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scottmwarren

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A few new photos

The liquor shop in Japan.



Copper Canyon

The Watson Numbers

11 countries
9 canyons
6 cell phone numbers
7 pairs of shoes or sandals
26 flights
24 airports
19,190 maximum elevation (feet)
628 kilometers cycling
0 fish caught
376 kilometers hiking
50 ATM trips
5 friends from UPS seen
25,000 dollars

Home

I have finally made it back to the US. I thought it fitting to enter the country in the state that George W. Bush calls home - the immigration officer even asked me what my country of citizenship was while scanning my US passport. I was temted to make up a name of a country just to see what he would say. Something with a "stan" in it.


On the bright side, I am starting a job at Taos Ski Valley after Labor Day. I am excited, though there are a lot of things you have to do to restart your life. In the mean time I head to North Carolina this weekend for the Watson Conference.

Here are some photos from my last canyon.

on a creel bound train

A conversation on the train to Creel today, translated from Spanish:

Setting: I am bending over with my head out the window between cars and a girl (Cristina) approaches me from behind. Attractive, and very flirty. Hand on my back. I don't know her. I'm looking out the window. The mohawk is flowing in the wind. God bless the mohawk.

Cristina: Hey look at that!
Me: What?
Cistina: Oh, nothing, nevermind.
Me: Oh, I was looking for a waterfall or something.
Cristina: Well, if you close your eyes and imagine a little it could be a waterfall (rests her head on my back).
Me: Hmmm...So, are you from Chihuahua or headed there on vacation?
Cristina: Vacation. I live in Los Mochis.
Me: That's great. How many times have you been on this train?
Cristina: First time.
Me: This is my first time going this direction. Pretty spectacular.
Cristina: So...how old are you?
Me: 23
Cristina: Hmph.
Me: What? How old are you?
Cristina: You won't believe me, but I'm 14.

At this point do I say:
a) Yes, but what is that in dog years?
b) Well, see you later.
c) Hey great, let's get together and watch TRL!
d) Please stop touching me.
e) Is that man with a mustache behind me a Federale? Do I hear police sirens?
f) Yes, but if I close my eyes and imagine a little....you would still be fourteen.

fuentes

"The Hispanic world did not come to the United States. The United States came to the Hispanic world. It is perhaps an act of poetic justice that now the Hispanic world should return."

-Carlos Fuentes

surfing.

In an attempt to restore my spirits, and mostly because I have always wanted to, I have spent the past few days trying to learn to surf. I like it. I normally go to a break that has less consistent waves because there are less surfers there and I don't have to worry about stealing someone's wave or falling off my board and mowing over some child. This, however, means that I spend a lot of time sitting on my board waiting for waves, at which point I discover that I am out of position when the waves finally come (crashing down on my head).

All this sitting on my board gives me plenty of time to enjoy the ocean and think. Mostly I think about sharks. And shipwrecks. How did little Pi, Robinson Crusoe, Luis Alejandro Velasco (Story of a Shipwrecked Sailor), William Adams (Samurai William) all make it back to land after their disasters at sea? How did they ever survive? I am tired, burnt, and very thirsty after a mere hour on my surf board. Plus they had those sharks to worry about.

Do you see what happens?

All day I have been thinking about the scene in The Big Lebowski when Walter destroys the corvette yelling, "Do you see what happens, Larry? Do you see what happens when you **** a stranger in the ***? This is what happens..."



Mostly I think this because a guest at the hostel last night slipped out at 4 in the morning taking with him a lap top from reception and a bag of mine that had my camera, iPod, and every photo I've taken since January 1. If I ever see him again I'd like to give him the same lesson that Walter gave young Larry.

Rankings

The 2006 World Street Food Rankings are in. The best of food from street stalls around the world:


Not Worth a Mention (I don't even remember seeing street foods here):
Ethiopia
Namibia
South Africa

Honorable Mention (in alphabetical order):
Canada: Putin. Need I say more.
Greece: Gyros, sausage pitas, fruit stands, sesame seed bread sticks.
Japan: Not really street food, but great samples of chewy sweet things.
Peru: Hot fresh pop-corn makes it a contender, good turkey sandwiches too (though hard to find) plus ice cream, whipped and sugared egg whites, and the famous and delicious queso helado.

Third Place:
China: Steamed dumplings, barbecued meat on sticks, noodles, and all very very cheap. Most street food is cheap, but China is super cheap. Best feature: pointing and picking out ingredients for your noodles. Good fresh fruit options and gains points for things like fresh pineapple and Washington apples far from tropical areas, and from Washington, for that matter. Loses points for lack of good sweet options.

Runner Up (and a very hard decision):
Thailand: Great variety, fresh, very easy to order, even easier to find. Ordering is unintimidating. Also you can find good and spicy options. Added bonus: excellent banana, chocolate, and sugared crepes. Warm climate also helps make eating at street stands an even more attractive option.

World Champion:
Mexico: Spicy, everywhere, and great variety. Roast Chickens, hotdogs, hamburgers, tortas, tacos of all types, great fruit, roast corn with chile. Extra points for the abundant use of lime and the fact that even well-heeled business-people eat from street food stalls (slight deduction for mayonnaise obsession). There could be better dessert options but paletas offer decent variety.

los estadod unidos mexicanos.

In the words of Katherine Ketter, "Mexico. Be excited."

ollantaytambo

Nick White happened to be passing through Peru on his way to Bolivia where he will be working on a study of the social effects of micro-finance as it becomes more common in commercial banking.

Luckily he was able to break from this rigorous research to spend a couple of days exploring around the Sacred Valley, which, in my opinion, is as much of a canyon as Colca.

We went all over Cusco, then to Pisac, and finally to Ollantaytambo where it happened to be a festival week celebrating the patron saint of one of the churches there. There were fifteen groups of dancers all in costume and all with masks covering their faces. We were told that the groups were formed based on occupation or unions - like all the bakers were in one group. While there were both male and female dancers, I don't think that any of the groups were mixed. By and large, the dances weren't incredible or terribly compelling, much like the Matachines dance at the Taos Pueblo struggles to hold my attention. Furthermore, every few hours there seemed to be a procession from one church to the other for mass and then back.

There were, however, two very interesting events.

There was one group of dancers whose main job is to entertain the crowd, and they did this quite well - largely by whipping each other in the ankles. They would pair up, hold hands and whip each other's ankles to the point that I heard one exclaim, "ay, mamacita." Even the small boys in the dance did this, though they struggled to give the whip much momentum. Then, all the dancers dog-piled, but in a fashion like Jenga - three on the base then three on top at a 90 degree angle then more until the last few just jumped on top. Finally the man dressed as a woman climbed on top, jumped off, and peeled apart the dog pile while the other dancers acted dead. In order to revive the dancers the man dressed as a woman lifted his skirts and knelt with his crotch over each dancer's head until they were revived. That was pretty much the conclusion of the dance, but it was one that they did multiple times while we were in Ollantaytambo.

The other awesome thing was the fireworks show the night that we got there. There were spinning shooting things built on bamboo and it was all pretty fantastic. The most surprising part was when they re-enacted the Chile Peru War with a plane and boat that shot fire and sparks - into the crowd. I was protected primarily because either Nick or I spilled a protective layer of beer all over my jacket, but a monster spark burned through the neck of Nick's jacket. It was pretty funny that the whole goal seemed to be to shoot fireworks at people. At one point the Peruvian man behind me had to pat out my mohawk when a spark fell on it.

better

Nick White (photos later) told me that my last post was depressing. Perhaps it was, though brownies are like heaven.

On the assumption that it was, I thought I should say that things are in fact much better - Nick and I are off in the Sacred Valley, inspecting Inca walls, and getting close enough to tour groups to gather free information.

I am also eating again, and though I am tempted to sample Ollantaytambo's chicha that move may be a bit premature.

heaven

I've been pretty sick recently - able to only eat about a piece of bread a day - and that got me thinking that to be able to be home would be like heaven. I don't want to go home and stay (despite what I may have said on the phone to my parents the other night), but it would be nice to have my own clean bathroom and warm bed for a few days while beating this stomach bug.

As I considered this, I looked back in my notes at all the things that I have described as "like heaven" without thinking about it:

Nachos - Windhoek (Nam.)
Hot Shower - Ai-Ais (Nam.), Micro Papigo (Greece), Deqin (China)
Down Booties - Yubeng (China)
Christmas Eve Dinner - Rhodes (Greece)
Coconut Shake - Ko Mook (Thailand)
Brownie and Ice Cream - Sabie (S. Africa), Kunming (China)
Swim in Fish River - Fish River (Nam.)
Hot Chocolate - Deqin (China)
Hot Springs - Chivay (Peru)
Steak Dinner - Yanque (Peru), Arequipa (Peru)

peru, continued

I had thought that my knee was feeling good enough to do some hiking, so I gathered some camping food and was ready to head out, but a night at a discoteca set me back, and the knee pain has returned (I guess I really am that bad of a dancer). As I was tired of hanging out in Arequipa, I decided to head to Cusco to let the knee rest, while seeing some interesting things. I hope that in a few days it will feel good enough to go back to Colca and do a five to ten day hike, though progress on the knee is slow.

Cusco has brought back a flood of memories from the trip that our family made here in 1991. I can't believe that I was here when I was 8, and it is pretty amazing to see some of the same things and bring back old memories.


The hotel we stayed in and the room that Sarah, Katie and I shared. I have distinct memories sitting looking out the window down at Cusco drawing pictures of all the red roofs.

Charo in the Cross Keys Pub.

Saqsaywaman

The slides at Saqsaywaman- I think it was Katie or Sarah and not me who cut their hand here in 1991, though I do remember being quite excited about an Inca slide. I had fun watching a third grade field trip as the teachers instructed the class that there would be no sliding for them.


Haircut number three of the trip, called the "gallo" here in Peru.

my kneesie

Things are looking up. Somewhat.

I talked on the phone today with my orthopoedic surgeon from home and he was able to give me a pretty good idea of what I may have done to my knee. Although my Spanish isn't bad, it was great to talk to an expert in English. Plus, my doctor is amazing.

He suggested that the problem was my plica. A plica is, in his words, a functionless piece of gristle, which he promised to draw me a picture of when I get home. Sweet.

Plica problems.

I also thought this article was interesting. And a little funny.

injured reserve

Here's an email I wrote to the Watson Office, explaining my current situation, should one be interested. I am, however, enjoying the symphony version of Queen's greatest hits in the internet cafe.


Watson Office,

I am not sure why I am writing you all this, I guess because I am frustrated. I have been having a great time in Peru, in large part because I bought a bike and have had fun using it to explore the Colca Canyon (as I wrote in my quarterly report). I have, since the beginning of the year, been having the best time imaginable.

Now, however, I have done something to my right knee, and whenever I ride my bike over 15km (sometimes even less) it starts to really hurt me, with the pain lasting for three or four days after.

As such, I have retreated to Arequipa to see a doctor, who told me, basically to try to take it easy for about a week, and take some arthritis medicine. I don't do well taking it easy, and I have tried this before. My knee hurt right before I went to Chile for a new visa, and I rested it for about a week, thinking it would improve. It hasn't.

I am frustrated by communicating the importance of being able to cycle to the doctor, the fine details of the injury, and the fact that it seems like nothing can be done. I don't know whether it is something genetic, my position on the bike, the angle of my feet on the pedals, the result of past crashes, or some muscular imbalance. The doctor isn't sure either. Perhaps this would be the same conclusion if I went to the doctor I know in the US from another knee injury (strangely, the other knee). Perhaps not. It is hard when you can't quite communicate what you want or feel and you have no idea about the skills and expertise of the doctor.

Whatever the case may be, I am feeling really little lost. I went from everything just right to being stuck in some sort of holding pattern. Any injury or illness would be hard, but especially an injury that keeps me from biking, which I love. This is a low spot.

I know that I can think of new things to do, and I can see some things in Peru without hiking and biking around. Peru is an amazingly rich country. That said, I want to be on my bike and in my boots in the Colca Canyon.

Where to go from here? To meet with the doctor and review my x-rays.

Thanks for listening as I figure all of this out. Perhaps a trip to Lima to see someone specializing in sports injuries is in order.

Hope all is well with you all,
Scott

photos of late

Altiplano, Chile.


Church, Sibayo.


"Mummy Juanito," not to be confused with the more famous mummy Juanita.


Cave art, outside Callalli.


Crossroads.