It is the rainy season here, so every day sees rain, the sun coming out for short periods of time.
I was invited to spend the day on Good Friday with the family who live in Cuellaje which is on top of the mountain. The road is dirt and gravel, pretty much single lane the whole way and of course has many twists and turns. It is a beautiful drive, very scenic, but for me a little scary with my fear of heights. I was happy to accept the invitation because I really enjoy spending time with this family (they manage the hostel where I am staying). They are very down to earth, good people, who have treated me with respect and a great deal of kindness.
What I did not expect was that we would be making the trip on a motorcycle, not in the truck as I thought. I have watched many people drive by on their motorcycles (the preferred mode of transportation here) with sometimes the whole family piled on. Wife, husband and 2-3 kids, seemingly unaware of how dangerous this is. But they are making the best of their situation, the bike the means of transportation that they can best afford. Knowing how difficult walking is here, I can fully appreciate their desire to be on the bike, in whatever capacity they feel works. Living here has opened my eyes to concepts and ways of thinking that just do not work in North America. One must look at life differently here, finding solutions that are not normal for those of us not from here. But I am from here, so perhaps this is why I am finding it easy to make the transition. Patrick is not quite as flexible in his way of thinking from what I have observed.
So off we went, me on one bike, Maria and Javier on the other. I forgot to ask the name of my driver, but he was related to Javier, a young man in his twenties I was guessing. There has been a lot of rain, so there were many puddles and the ruts can be severe. Mali, Scrappy and Chiripa all felt they should be able to follow us, which posed a bit of a problem as we tried to leave. My driver just kept on, my efforts to get Mali to stay failed. So Maria and Javier had to go back to secure them at home before joining us. We went quite slow at first waiting for them to join us. I was thinking, this isn’t so bad, I’ll be ok. We did not have helmets, and I felt like a giant compared to my driver, but I felt brave all the same.
We saw several sections of the road where the rocks and dirt covered most of the road – the rain causing landslides. I don’t believe a car would have been able to make it through some sections as we were forced to travel rather close to the edge several times to maneuver around the rocks and dirt. You could see where the water created ruts as it flowed down the mountain and across the road. I wasn’t as afraid as I thought I would be, but it was hard not to be a bit concerned as we swerved and bounced along. But when Javier caught up to us, we began to go faster and there was a few times when I caught myself saying a quick prayer for a safe arrival.
I could not help but think of the movie “The Motorcycle Diaries” in which Che Guevara and his friend travelled through much of South America on their motorcycle. As my hair whipped around behind me and I felt the breeze on my face, I marvelled at the idea that I was here travelling on a motorcycle through the Andes. Who knew….. Certainly not me, this is not something I would have ever believed I would do in my life. It is truly a beautiful thing to find yourself in a situation such as this – one you never dreamed you would have the courage to be in.
Coming home was a little more frightening for me as we travelled fast and it was downhill for a good part of the way. He shut off the engine as we began our decent to the valley, the road was steep and there was no need for the motor, just really good brakes!!! As we got to the bottom of the mountain, the rain began, lightly at first, but soon becoming a good downpour. We arrived at the driveway of the hostel just as the worst of it began and once again I marvelled at the beauty of timing. I returned to my room with a smile on my face, grateful for an experience I did not think I had the courage to be part of. I had a lovely day, a great visit mostly with all the children and I am happy. I was reminded of my youth when I spent my time at family dinners and get together with the children, not the adults. In the company of animals and children, this is where I have always found comfort.
We played tag, running up and down the mountain road, searched for Scooby (one of the puppies that went on his own adventure) and walked down the mountain path to the river. Tarzan, the older dog was just like Mali with his love of chasing rocks in the river, splashing about as he searched for the one just thrown. Mali would have loved this adventure, and I was sorry she was not able to come with us.
The one girl told me she liked my eyes, and in that moment I was reminded of my differences. One pair of blue eyes in a sea of brown ones. I forget sometimes how unusual I must look, with my white hair, my height and my pale blue eyes.
Patrick did not join us on this outing as he has been gone for a week now. I am not sure where he went – he left without saying good-bye. Our paths have diverted and he is on his way, I hope to finding some happiness. I wish him well on his journey, I do not think your paths will cross again.
We were meant to go back to this lovely place the following day, but it had rained long and hard through most of the night. I admit I was a bit relieved because after seeing the damage on the road the previous day, I believed the roads would be a bit scary. I have enjoyed my Easter weekend here watching the hummingbirds and butterflies. Estoy feliz aqui……
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