does anyone remember those small squishy plastic cylinders filled with gel and little stars or marine creatures that you could slide on and off of your fingers and were fun just because they slipped around untrollably? was that just my family? well that's what my entire abdomen has been reduced to. ana covered pretty well our experiment with hiking with altitude sickness and while we are much recovered from that point, i'm a little afraid of the noises my insides make. still, we had a really nice time in huaraz after our graceful retreat off the mountain and are excited to get back there in a couple of days, after we get cured tomorrow by a woman rubbing us with live guinea pigs. i say it in a ridiculous way, but actually it's a tradition that stretches back ages--i'll find out how long tomorrow ;)--so i'm going to suspend my own incredulity as much as possible and see what sorts of wisdom may have slipped through the cracks of spanish conquest.

mostly i wanted to share a quick story about the trip back to chavin last night:
after lounging in yuppee goodness in the california cafe, we hopped in a shared taxi and prepared ourselves for the terror of latin american driving. we sat four in a row in the back seat and luckily the guys next to us were really nice, keeping the taxi driver in line and encouraging him to drive slowly and take the pot-holes easy (avoiding them is not an option, the road is like a hunk of swiss cheese). he kept saying, "we want them to take away good memories of peru" and taught us some words in quechua, the language the inca left in their wake. with minimal clutching of my seat and bracing against the car frame, i spent the carride singing and looking out the window deep into the milky way.

getting sick is no fun, but the gifts of adventuring sure make it seem worth it.

much love to all of you,
Justine