We're taking a couple of days' rest cure in Arequipa (at least, that's what it feels like).
Having been in Cusco long enough to marvel at what a beautiful place it is, and having done the trip to Machu Picchu, and been to see Lake Titicaca even higher up in the Andes, we needed a little break. Sadly we have been dogged by illness of one kind or another (not me so much, but it's not nice to have someone you care about unwell), and so we have skipped a bit from place to place without getting the full experience of each one. It's now quite questionable whether we will see the Nazca lines, too, but the first priority is health, obviously. Besides, our friends in Lima are waiting for our return, and going back there feels like going home. They are eager to see us again apparently!
But here in Arequipa we are also more comfortable than weve been since setting out on our travels. The city feels more sophisticated than most of the places we've visited, and the architecture is old ornate colonial, with a lot of white stone and bright paint glowing in the sun. We're in an old area, with cobbled streets so narrow that our taxi gave up trying to turn from one into another, and the house itself is built around a central courtyard so that you go outside every time you go from room to room, and the courtyard and roof terrace have exotic plants and cacti around the furniture. Our host here has real style. She has also looked after us extremely well, given us an extraordinary special rate, cooked us breakfast, and given us fascinating information. And our room is bigger and plusher than any we've seen yet.
So we've taken it easy while we're here, and it feels more like a genuine holiday than before. Most people who come to Arequipa take a journey out to the Colca Canyon, which is bigger and deeper than the Grand Canyon, but we've been sunning ourselves on the roof terrace and wandering gently down to the city centre and back. It's not such a Peruvian experience, but more of a holiday.
People everywhere here are really great. We've been taken care of wherever we've needed it.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Friends Away From Home
Any brethren who knew I was about to travel had one comment in common (besides the worry for my safety): that it wouldn't be like travel is for brethren, where they know they will be looked after in safe surroundings, by people they can rely on.
Well, we spent several days in Lima, staying with a family of three who didn't know us at all, only taking us in as a favour to a mutual friend. Yet they have been true friends from the first day, looking after us as thoroughly as it is possible to do. They have cooked for us, taken us out, taken days off work, travelled two three-hour bus journeys in one day, told us the things tourists need to know. I don't know how anyone could expect more just from belonging to the same sect as someone else.
Interestingly, as Peru is a religious country, they were both interested in and understanding of my situation. More of that another time maybe.
Now we are travelling around the country, but it feels as though when we go back to Lima we will be returning home. We are under instructions to phone them every day in the meantime to let them know how we are getting on, and they have already offered good advice at this distance - which, incidentally, is twenty-two hours of bus travel, and eleven thousand feet of altitude. I'm blogging from Cusco this time, and recommend it to everyone. It's beautiful.
Oh, and my hour of internet time downstairs from our (slightly shabby) room is costing me loose change. I just have to be able to navigate in Spanish and guess some keys where the markings have rubbed off.
Well, we spent several days in Lima, staying with a family of three who didn't know us at all, only taking us in as a favour to a mutual friend. Yet they have been true friends from the first day, looking after us as thoroughly as it is possible to do. They have cooked for us, taken us out, taken days off work, travelled two three-hour bus journeys in one day, told us the things tourists need to know. I don't know how anyone could expect more just from belonging to the same sect as someone else.
Interestingly, as Peru is a religious country, they were both interested in and understanding of my situation. More of that another time maybe.
Now we are travelling around the country, but it feels as though when we go back to Lima we will be returning home. We are under instructions to phone them every day in the meantime to let them know how we are getting on, and they have already offered good advice at this distance - which, incidentally, is twenty-two hours of bus travel, and eleven thousand feet of altitude. I'm blogging from Cusco this time, and recommend it to everyone. It's beautiful.
Oh, and my hour of internet time downstairs from our (slightly shabby) room is costing me loose change. I just have to be able to navigate in Spanish and guess some keys where the markings have rubbed off.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Blogging from Lima
Just a quick one this time, as I am on a borrowed computer.
We are staying with a kind and pleasant family in Lima for a few days. They are looking after us very well, and it is really nice to see how normal life is in another country. Plus, of course, we get told the good things and the bad things that are handy to know, such as how to spot fake currency, and where not to go. Already yesterday we had the local speciality cooked for us!
I´m guessing this is fairly firmly outside of brethren experience, but I´m enjoying myself so far. We have booked tickets to Cuzco for Saturday, and a man comes to the house later to drop them off! In some ways, it´s luxurious here, though not in every way ...
I have had my negative opinion of the staff at US airports reconfirmed, but that´s another story, as is the tale of many brethren wanting to have words before I departed - I had several visitors while I was packing my bags, and returned by invitation to a family member´s house for the first time since last August. So far, in lots of ways this feels like it was a good thing to do.
We are staying with a kind and pleasant family in Lima for a few days. They are looking after us very well, and it is really nice to see how normal life is in another country. Plus, of course, we get told the good things and the bad things that are handy to know, such as how to spot fake currency, and where not to go. Already yesterday we had the local speciality cooked for us!
I´m guessing this is fairly firmly outside of brethren experience, but I´m enjoying myself so far. We have booked tickets to Cuzco for Saturday, and a man comes to the house later to drop them off! In some ways, it´s luxurious here, though not in every way ...
I have had my negative opinion of the staff at US airports reconfirmed, but that´s another story, as is the tale of many brethren wanting to have words before I departed - I had several visitors while I was packing my bags, and returned by invitation to a family member´s house for the first time since last August. So far, in lots of ways this feels like it was a good thing to do.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Holidays away from Safety
In recent weeks I have conducted an interesting experiment that was never intended to be one.
Next Tuesday we head off to Peru for three weeks. An invitation to a wedding in Lima has proved a good justification for a trip exploring some the world's great sights - fingers crossed. This has been booked for months now, and I've been looking forward to it all that time. Peru is a country that I've always found fascinating.
As the time approaches, I have been telling various people that the trip is on - obviously my employers, as they like to know why I won't be at work, but also my brethren visitors and my family. I may not have much contact these days, but I'd like them to know why it won't work in that time if they decide contact is what they want. To my surprise, the nearly universal reaction from brethren of any kind is worry. I had expected a mix of disapproval and envy, to the extent that I'd pondered it at all.
Thinking about it, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. The brethren attitude to life is based on "approved" and "non-approved" activities, things and places. A person who confines themselves to the approved can assume protection from on high (leaving aside the possibility of unpleasant events that occur to teach life lessons for one's own good and the edification of others). A non-approved visit to a non-approved place is asking for trouble, on those grounds. People are worried that my plane will disappear without trace, for a start, or that some unspecified disaster will happen while I'm out of the usual area of brethren life. This, in brethren logic, is exponentially more likely in this case even than if I was taking an unsanctioned trip to a country where brethren live. At least they could assume some heavenly interest in such a country, which would overspill onto me.
Actually, I'm kind of touched. Everybody who has learned of the trip has worried, which means at least that they do care. If that dreaded catastrophe does occur, they will mourn. And they are keen that I make a note of various telephone numbers in case of emergency, including some in Argentina, which is the nearest country with a brethren population. What that means for my status in brethren terms is unclear, but I am not a total outcast, it seems.
In reality, there are some dangers, of course. Our Peruvian friends and the guidebooks all agree that theft is a real problem, even if violence is not any more likely than at home. That is something that concerns me, as I like to document my travels in pictures, and my camera is not cheap. Awareness is the first step, though, so I am reckoning to make it back complete with photographic equipment. And of course, some pictures of stunning scenery and incredible experiences. I concluded it would be wiser to leave my laptop behind, as much because of weight as anything, but apparently Peru is very wired, so I can catch up at intervals. Outside of that, I have a journal, which has been good enough for millions of writers and sketchers before me.
There has also been a silver lining to the worry clouds: my family seem suddenly concerned that they may never see me again, and I have my first invitation back.
Next Tuesday we head off to Peru for three weeks. An invitation to a wedding in Lima has proved a good justification for a trip exploring some the world's great sights - fingers crossed. This has been booked for months now, and I've been looking forward to it all that time. Peru is a country that I've always found fascinating.
As the time approaches, I have been telling various people that the trip is on - obviously my employers, as they like to know why I won't be at work, but also my brethren visitors and my family. I may not have much contact these days, but I'd like them to know why it won't work in that time if they decide contact is what they want. To my surprise, the nearly universal reaction from brethren of any kind is worry. I had expected a mix of disapproval and envy, to the extent that I'd pondered it at all.
Thinking about it, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. The brethren attitude to life is based on "approved" and "non-approved" activities, things and places. A person who confines themselves to the approved can assume protection from on high (leaving aside the possibility of unpleasant events that occur to teach life lessons for one's own good and the edification of others). A non-approved visit to a non-approved place is asking for trouble, on those grounds. People are worried that my plane will disappear without trace, for a start, or that some unspecified disaster will happen while I'm out of the usual area of brethren life. This, in brethren logic, is exponentially more likely in this case even than if I was taking an unsanctioned trip to a country where brethren live. At least they could assume some heavenly interest in such a country, which would overspill onto me.
Actually, I'm kind of touched. Everybody who has learned of the trip has worried, which means at least that they do care. If that dreaded catastrophe does occur, they will mourn. And they are keen that I make a note of various telephone numbers in case of emergency, including some in Argentina, which is the nearest country with a brethren population. What that means for my status in brethren terms is unclear, but I am not a total outcast, it seems.
In reality, there are some dangers, of course. Our Peruvian friends and the guidebooks all agree that theft is a real problem, even if violence is not any more likely than at home. That is something that concerns me, as I like to document my travels in pictures, and my camera is not cheap. Awareness is the first step, though, so I am reckoning to make it back complete with photographic equipment. And of course, some pictures of stunning scenery and incredible experiences. I concluded it would be wiser to leave my laptop behind, as much because of weight as anything, but apparently Peru is very wired, so I can catch up at intervals. Outside of that, I have a journal, which has been good enough for millions of writers and sketchers before me.
There has also been a silver lining to the worry clouds: my family seem suddenly concerned that they may never see me again, and I have my first invitation back.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Spiritual to Material - more secularism
Another couple of snippets of thought from my current reading material: more historical changes of thought pattern that throw light (I think) on the brethren in the present, to do with the de-emphasis of special vocations and how daily life fits into the spiritual life.
The shift from thinking that some people had a "higher" calling to that which held that there was only one standard for a christian, and that being christian was a hundred percent or somehow insufficient, meant that normal everyday life, such as most people need to live to survive, became something that could, done rightly, be seen as sanctified. From that, it becomes a small step to seeing that everyday life as something good and sufficient in itself. The brethren are caught in the tension between these steps.
As the western world was making that shift, it also found justifications for economic development. Making money was seen as a "passion", or a natural drive, but one that was normally harmless and possible to harness for good ends. It was called (apparently) a "calm passion", one which served the interests of mankind. Anything which serves one's interests can be thought to hold more destructive passions in check, just as natural intelligence, though not moral as such, tends to act as a brake on animalistic drives. I can very clearly see that attitude at work among the brethren, too. It is often said that it is bad to be occupied with money and materialism, yet in practice it is felt to be a good thing to actually pursue, because of the practical benefits and the distraction from worse activities.
The shift from thinking that some people had a "higher" calling to that which held that there was only one standard for a christian, and that being christian was a hundred percent or somehow insufficient, meant that normal everyday life, such as most people need to live to survive, became something that could, done rightly, be seen as sanctified. From that, it becomes a small step to seeing that everyday life as something good and sufficient in itself. The brethren are caught in the tension between these steps.
As the western world was making that shift, it also found justifications for economic development. Making money was seen as a "passion", or a natural drive, but one that was normally harmless and possible to harness for good ends. It was called (apparently) a "calm passion", one which served the interests of mankind. Anything which serves one's interests can be thought to hold more destructive passions in check, just as natural intelligence, though not moral as such, tends to act as a brake on animalistic drives. I can very clearly see that attitude at work among the brethren, too. It is often said that it is bad to be occupied with money and materialism, yet in practice it is felt to be a good thing to actually pursue, because of the practical benefits and the distraction from worse activities.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Return from Glasgow
I didn't wish to suggest that I had any doubts about the wisdom of visiting Scotland, a part of the UK I had not ventured to before this last weekend. As I suspected beforehand, it quite suited me as a place. I hate heat and rather enjoy a slight edge in the air even when it's sunny, and I do like a good bit of rugged landscape. So no, no reservations about Scotland. Until late on, I didn't even detect the slightest hint of the chippiness towards the English that others have claimed exists, and everybody was extremely friendly, yellow-jacketed bus station staff and all.
My worry was more about the way this trip was actually happening. My previous existence among the brethren was, frankly, sheltered and middle-class, and I had doubts whether I could adapt to night buses and hostels. There's good and bad news about that.
Firstly though, isn't it great to be able to schedule a trip to somewhere several hundred miles away with no need to worry about approval or an imposed agenda? I had never been to Glasgow, and now I have, and all it took was a weekend and a couple of emails and phone calls. I wish I could report more on what the city is really like as a result, but being in holiday mode we opted for relaxation over thoroughness. However I am happy to add my voice to what seems to be a generally accepted approval for Kelvingrove Museum and Gallery. Besides the wide range of exhibits (why not hang a spitfire above an assortment of stuffed animals and include a fibreglass Elvis in the entrance to the same hall?) the Cafe serves a really good lunch with practically no waiting. I would happily go back there tomorrow and wander around some more.
As I would to the Burrell collection, actually. Maybe it's my ever-distractable state of mind, but I found both places to be exactly to my taste by being remarkably non-specific.
I must also return (probably unaccompanied) to Loch Lomond or similar, as there are spectacular photographs to be captured, I'm sure. Photos and company don't mix very well, I've found, so company always comes first. Being specific about people is the firmest self-set taboo on this blog so I won't say too much, but one of these days I'll write a non-specific entry about hospitality and this last weekend will be very much in my mind. Good company enhances great experiences and makes up for bad ones.
Which leads me to the fact that I was very pleasantly surprised by the hostel. It was in a beautiful location and a very nice building, although a little shabby inside. We didn't get quite the room we were promised, either. But in general, I thoroughly enjoyed the easy-come easy-go attitude, and the way it was possible to go and cook a meal when it felt like the right time. I'm a self-service sort of person, and I suspect a hotel would feel stifling by comparison.
Sadly I didn't enjoy the bus, though. I have never been good at sleeping while travelling, so I was slightly apprehensive about using the journey as a sleep time. Sure enough, the journey up was cold and marred by being shoehorned next to the loo and the emergency exit (with the only light which couldn't be switched off). The people were fine, so we had hopes that if we turned up early enough to get a good seat for the journey back, all would be well. However, we hadn't reckoned on a troop of infantile football supporters, including one with the unfortunate combination of the most abrasive voice I've encountered for a long time and a need for constant attention and peer approval. So I didn't sleep, but did enjoy some soothing classical music delivered through noise-eliminating earphones.
Still, two hits out of three is pretty good. Scotland - tick. Hostels - tick. Night Buses - jury still out, but so far I've experienced two ways in which they can be bad.
My worry was more about the way this trip was actually happening. My previous existence among the brethren was, frankly, sheltered and middle-class, and I had doubts whether I could adapt to night buses and hostels. There's good and bad news about that.
Firstly though, isn't it great to be able to schedule a trip to somewhere several hundred miles away with no need to worry about approval or an imposed agenda? I had never been to Glasgow, and now I have, and all it took was a weekend and a couple of emails and phone calls. I wish I could report more on what the city is really like as a result, but being in holiday mode we opted for relaxation over thoroughness. However I am happy to add my voice to what seems to be a generally accepted approval for Kelvingrove Museum and Gallery. Besides the wide range of exhibits (why not hang a spitfire above an assortment of stuffed animals and include a fibreglass Elvis in the entrance to the same hall?) the Cafe serves a really good lunch with practically no waiting. I would happily go back there tomorrow and wander around some more.
As I would to the Burrell collection, actually. Maybe it's my ever-distractable state of mind, but I found both places to be exactly to my taste by being remarkably non-specific.
I must also return (probably unaccompanied) to Loch Lomond or similar, as there are spectacular photographs to be captured, I'm sure. Photos and company don't mix very well, I've found, so company always comes first. Being specific about people is the firmest self-set taboo on this blog so I won't say too much, but one of these days I'll write a non-specific entry about hospitality and this last weekend will be very much in my mind. Good company enhances great experiences and makes up for bad ones.
Which leads me to the fact that I was very pleasantly surprised by the hostel. It was in a beautiful location and a very nice building, although a little shabby inside. We didn't get quite the room we were promised, either. But in general, I thoroughly enjoyed the easy-come easy-go attitude, and the way it was possible to go and cook a meal when it felt like the right time. I'm a self-service sort of person, and I suspect a hotel would feel stifling by comparison.
Sadly I didn't enjoy the bus, though. I have never been good at sleeping while travelling, so I was slightly apprehensive about using the journey as a sleep time. Sure enough, the journey up was cold and marred by being shoehorned next to the loo and the emergency exit (with the only light which couldn't be switched off). The people were fine, so we had hopes that if we turned up early enough to get a good seat for the journey back, all would be well. However, we hadn't reckoned on a troop of infantile football supporters, including one with the unfortunate combination of the most abrasive voice I've encountered for a long time and a need for constant attention and peer approval. So I didn't sleep, but did enjoy some soothing classical music delivered through noise-eliminating earphones.
Still, two hits out of three is pretty good. Scotland - tick. Hostels - tick. Night Buses - jury still out, but so far I've experienced two ways in which they can be bad.
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