I may just have to wear a
sweater to bed tonight.
But I digress…
Ash Wednesday is celebrated
in town with a Mass, followed by the procession around town of a glass coffin
with a figure of martyred Jesus on display within. Accompanied by music it makes its rounds atop
the shoulders of the chosen faithful, and is followed by a group of worshipers
as it winds up and down the streets before returning to the Cathedral. Harkens back to a New Orleans funeral procession.
I was moseying around the
Hostal in the afternoon when Eduardos’ cousin dropped bye to pick up Eduardo
and survey the land he has for sale. An
invitation for a half hour of entertainment was issued, which I accepted, and
into his truck I did hop. Hello and
introductions to the other occupants of the truck and we were off on what
turned out to be 3 hours of wandering.
Land, developments, Eduardos’ house (yay!) and the hillside holdings of
the founder of the Santa Theresa neighbourhood.
We were invited in to view the construction of her new home… a lovely
big affair built around a massive inner courtyard.
I of course had arranged to
meet Lallie and Cliff for dinner at 6 pm, so the 30 minutes turning into 3
hours had me searching for a way to politely ask to be returned to town. This is tricky, because there is an etiquette
to these situations and it does not entail pressuring a host even if a deadline
has been missed.
Luckily someone else
mentioned it and I made it back with 5 minutes to spare.
Yesterday I put some eggs on
to boil for breakfast and went back to my room my while they cooked. When I returned to get them they were gone,
and just as I discovered this Eduardo came running in with fresh eggs and
profuse apologies. He was soooo
concerned I would be angry that he had eaten my breakfast. He ran all the way to the market and back,
which was sweet and silly at the same time.
The square was busy… a
combination of Valentines day, friendship day and a nod to the One Billion and
rising to end violence against women.
Music, kids sports, dancing… until the power went out across the city
and put an end to the celebrating.
Sent clothes out to the
laundry early. (then hoped the power
would come back on so I would get it back before leaving). Packed some things to store with Carlos and
Janet until next year. Started my
goodbyes.
Donna sat down to make me a
lovely knitted hat as a goodbye present.
She is a very talented knitter and I watched as she drew a design on
paper and whipped out her knitting needles and wool. We chatted while she clicked away. I excused myself to finish packing and have
dinner.
There were a couple of young
ratty looking Gringos blocking traffic as they juggled in the street for
change… like squeegee kids in Toronto. Dirty hair and clothes… such a lovely
representation of our kind, no? A small,
mean minded voice in my head was hoping someone would plough them down. Just call your family for money to get back
home and get a real job.
Upon my return to the Hostal
Donna had an almost completed hat in her hands.
I admit to being overtired
and found myself impatient while waiting as she finished. Not as in “hurry up already” but more of a
“give your head a shake” admonishment to myself. Both Sandra and Jose popped in and out of the
Hostal and young folk mingled around with questions. It was almost 10 pm when I wore my lovely hat
home after many goodbyes. I think Sandra
and I said goodbye about 10 times throughout the day! I will miss them.
This morning I was up before
my alarm rang and it took less than 10 minutes to be packed and ready. Janet and I grabbed a cab to drop my bag at
the terminal, then we met Eduardo and Maribelle for breakfast… Carlos gallantly
offered to stay behind and tend to the guests.
A meander back to the main
square, goodbye to Carlos et al. and I am Tarapoto bound.
Just like that my time in
Chachapoyas is done.
All squeezed into the people
moving sardine unit heads out of town, passing by my land and giving me a last
mental image to store. Seeing it from
farther away really puts the slopes in perspective and will be helpful with the
next planning stage.
Down, down, down to the
river. It didn’t take me too long to
realise that the wonderful cup of coffee I had at breakfast had worked it
diuretic magic and I became uncomfortably aware that I had to pee.
Perfect.
A quiet plea in mangled
spanish had the driver making an unplanned stop for me to nip into the market
in Pedro Ruiz for relief.
As usual our switchback
ascent into the high Sierra Alto Maya mountain range started just outside Pedro
Ruiz. As did the barfing in the
back. I actually had some queezies going
on myself, so it was a Gravol day.
Reserving a seat next to an opened window proved helpful until short
sleeved Mr Wonderful next to me asked me to close it because he was cold. I mean REALLY?? I am a gringa and yet even I know it gets
cold high in the mountains… which is why I wore a SWEATER!
Whatever. We played open window / closed window for a
couple of hours.
Lunch stop (for those that
were eating… ie. not me) was at a high pass, pretty mountain outlook. But man was it chilly. As I sat waiting I made the acquaintance of a
young woman from Ontario
and the 20 minutes passed pleasantly.
Not long after we started
out long, long descent downward. It
takes hours of switchbacks and braking.
It is at this point that our driver turned nutzoid… maintaining a speed
at double the limit and passing on curves.
Blew through the armed security checkpoints too. Entreaties were made to higher powers.
It got worse when we got to
straight, flat roads. What a
maniac. Seems he figures that leaning on
the horn should make oncoming traffic yield as if by magic.
Made it though,
thankfully. The sun peaked through the
overcast sky just as we got to the finish line.
Short ride to the hostal, meander to the market for water, tasty meal
and I am soon to bed. Friday night music
blasts, but I have no doubt I will sleep.
I am exhausted.
And cold. There is no swelter for me tonight as some
uncommon weather pattern has taken hold and there is a decided nip in the air. They don’t put blankets on the beds in the
tropics… and so, as mentioned, I may just have to wear a sweater to bed
tonight.
Tomorrow… Lamas and the
worlds’ best coffee!
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