2 Israelis, 1 Argentinean, 1 American, and 1 “Jungle Boy” walk into a bar...

Written on Sunday, May 2nd

________________________

Whew! Finally I am over the altitude sickness! Well, mostly... the headache is still lingering, but it’s nothing compared to what it had been. What to do, what to do?

I ventured outside of the hostel to get some dieta de pollo -- basically chicken soup -- because it was recommen

ded that this was virtually the only thing I should eat after the altitude issues. Generously, the same guy who brought me the mata de coca the night before brought me to the restaurant where he swore I would get the best soup in all of Cusco. Yum! The soup was fantastic, though it did take about 30 minutes to get it. (As an aside, I’m starting to realize that my minute-by-minute planning does not fly in South America. You get what you ordered when they’re ready to give it to you, dammit.)

Afterwards, I wanted to explore Cusco a little bit. It really is an amazing city. Incan architecture is abundant, the vibrant colors of the native Andean dress juxtaposed against the stone, and all of the shops selling this and that make for an awesome wandering around experience. Oh, and the fact that you’re huffing and puffing, your heart is pounding, and you feel like you’ve just run a 10K the whole time, thanks again to that fantastic altitude.

But when I got home and I picked up my laptop to blog and email some friends, I realized something was really missing from my experience in Cusco thus far. Yes, it was time to go out to a bar.

So, in classic hostel tradition, whoever was around ended up making a group and deciding to go to a bar downtown. Our group ended up being 2 good looking guys from Israel, their beautiful Argentinean friend who was spending her last night in Cusco, me, and the same guy from the hostel who had taken care of me for the past 36 hours - a self-proclaimed “jungle boy” because he grew up in the Amazon region of Peru (and he proudly pulls his shirt up to show you where he has been bitten by both an anaconda and a monkey.)

Who knew Cusco, an ancient Incan city, was such a party town?? Jungle Boy apparently knows everyone at every bar and thus we have been given about 15 free drink tickets, the other 3 have been out meeting people all week and know half of the people out, and I know nobody and know I shouldn’t be out drinking but at this point I really couldn’t give a crap. 5 drinks later, we’re all dancing at our second club/bar, and a bartender is standing on the bar pouring liquor from the bottle straight into my mouth. Classy, right? Sorry, folks, I’m not here to paint a pretty picture - it’s the raw truth. In good news though, even I recognized this as insane and decided to send myself home in a cab.

Back at the hostel 30 minutes later, I was on the couch with another hostel employee, watching The Hangover in Spanish, rocking myself back and forth, head splitting, stomach aching. Way to come full circle...