Lengua

There are 14 tenses in Spanish. At this point I know (to varying degrees!) seven of them, and I think I will leave it at that! For now anyway.

The process of learning a language, something I have never done before, has been an up and down experience. Three months ago, when I arrived in Buenos Aires, I was constantly frustrated by my lack of understanding and inability to communicate. This was a main motivation in hotfooting it to Peru, where I knew I wanted to study.

Now, after two months living in a Spanish speaking house with very patient friends, I finally feel that I can, to some degree, speak Spanish. It is immensly rewarding to be able to have chats with my juice lady in the market, make jokes and have conversations that stretch beyond name, work and nationality.

Undoubtedly it is an exhausting experience. Since Emily left two weeks ago I have spoken basically only Spanish. There comes a point in the evening where my brain can no longer formulate thoughts and my mouth can´t negotiate the acrobatics of Spanish language. But ultimately I am thrilled. I have a long way to go before I am fluent, but I can make myself understood.

There are of course hilarious moments of miscommunication. Just yesterday I asked my friend what ingredient makes a sweet rice dessert brown, a fruit or something else? He replied "Chancaca" which is a type of unrefined sugar, but I heard "Kaka", which is poo. My look of dismay ensued much laughter and a more thorough explanation.

The photo is the view from my street in San Blas.

Feliz Cumpleanos

No one can tell me why whilst feliz cumpleaños is happy birthday, the song in Spanish goes cumpleaños feliz...

Yesterday was my birthday - I am now a ripe old 23. Its custom here to celebrate the night before your birthday so that when midnight hits the fiesta starts (and doesn´t stop for the whole 24 hours!)

My wonderful friends here in Cusco took me out dancing all night and at 6am we went up the mountain to enjoy a frosty sunrise. At 7.30am I fell into bed and awoke at 11 to find some alpaca wool leg warmers and earrings, gifts from Emily. Perfect!

Thanks to everyone for your birthday wishes. I wonder where I will be this time next year....

Santa Teresa - a trip from hell to a place of paradise

Life in South america has been easy; little sickness, only minor theft of belongings, generally good times and great people. Transport had been cheap and reliable, the weather clear.

So when we decided on a weekend vist to the thermal springs at Santa Teresa we were in high spirits. I had had a cold for 4 weeks and hoped that the cleansing natural springs might help me clear it.Off we set at 6pm, for an hour and a half collectivo ride to Ollantaytambo. Easy. Change onto the 8.30pm train with only three more hours travel before our destination. Easy.

¿Por favor, que hora es el tran a Santa Teresa?

No hay, solo para Peruanas, no para extranjeros!

Que!? Turns out that the only train was only for Peruvians. Ok, a bus then.

¿Que hora es la proxima bus a Santa Teresa?

Only two hours to wait. Good. We have hot pancho and chat with the stall lady. One hour later we are sprinting after our bus that has arrive early and not stopped. Sprinting at 3500 metres is a challenge, believe me. We make it to the other side of town (it´s a small town) to grab the bus as it is pulling away. Excellent!

Hmm, only one seat left for me. My chivalrous friends take the aisle. Four bone jarringly bumpy hours later we arrive, at 1.30 am at the town where we would connect to Santa Teresa. We find a collectivo but the driver insists on waiting for more buses to fill up his van with customers.

Luckily after just one hour we are full. At 2.30am we set off for a hours drive to the springs.

Forty minutes of bumpy and bendy road later we hit a problem. Water has washed away the mountain road ahead of us. We have to turn back and use the higher road. Forty minutes back to town. The next road is also unpaved, and higher up the mountain. We dont ask the driver how long it will be, we just want to be at the springs. It takes another hour and a half. At 5.30 in the morning, exhausted, dusty, wobbled to within an inch of our sanity, we pull in to Santa Teresa town. Finally.

Now just twenty minutes walk to the springs. ¡Bien! Five minutes later the shoe of a friend breaks, leaving him to hobble on pebbly ground for a walk which now takes thirty minutes.

Twelve hours after starting our apparently 4 hours journey we are soaking in blissfull, crystalline, naturally hot water, watching the sunrise over misty green mountains and feeling completely rejuventated.