The last couple weeks here have been really beautiful and have challenged me-–physically, emotionally, and philosophically.
From the flyer for the play “Urpay Huachaq – Cantos de las aguas subterráneas”
I went to a really beautiful play that explored themes of relationship with the earth, the memory of water, impacts of extractivism, and fostering reciprocity. There were only two actors in this play, and very little dialogue, but so much was expressed. An older guy sat at an altar tending to his offerings and playing each instrument that sat before him. The other person spoke through dance, representing the spirit of the waters and dancing with the stars, the wind, the mountains, the rain, with buildings, with pain. So much was said and felt in her movements, and eventually her words. The projections and props also helped tell the story and shape the message. It was powerful to see these themes, the ones that so much of my learning has become centered around, being explored here through another culture and language in a tiny local theater that I just happened to stumble across.
I have also appreciated learning about the culture here. I have met many people who are excited to tell me about their mother language, Quechua, and their relationship with Pachamama, often without me even asking. There is pride in the lineage of language and culture that they carry forward, and it is beautiful to witness. It is interesting how these ancient beliefs and traditions persist alongside and intertwined with strong catholic religion. Spanish colonization has certainly shifted the dominant language and culture, but it did not erase or overpower what came before it. Buildings and temples built even before the Incas were demolished and covered up by colonizers, but they could not fully bury the past. There are still stones standing, instilled with the wisdom of time and memory. This place has deep roots and a resilient spirit that can be felt in the land and the people.
This city has also been impacted through the shift to an economy so reliant on tourism. I have enjoyed going on a couple tours as they’ve given me opportunities to see the variety of landscapes in this area and learn from local guides about the history and culture, but I didn’t want to solely put my energy towards experiences that are cultivated for my benefit as a traveler. I also was missing the variety of movement spaces I participate in at home, so I sought out lesser known spaces for dance and circus. Through this process I have noticed that most places here don’t have a website. There are sometimes instagram and facebook pages, but most information is communicated directly through whatsapp. This has been slightly annoying at times, but it also has given me more opportunity to practice my Spanish, and there is something nice about this way of always communicating person to person. This has also made me realize it is likely there are many opportunities that I would not have come across in my prior research, so I am curious what more I will find during my time here.
I took a contemporary dance class, and two aerial silks classes. The contemporary class was centered around the feeling of freedom, and I wish I had more time to take another class there. It felt really good to move my body in different ways, and it was helpful to practice my Spanish in these spaces. The first aerial class was very difficult but also very fun and satisfying. The second time I went to the aerial class, however, brought up a lot of emotions in me. After taking a month of Spanish classes (yay for completing 80 hours of classes!), my ability to understand and speak has improved significantly, but there is still so much to learn. I could understand a lot of the class through visual cues and the words I do know, but I was struggling to really comprehend the teachers directions. The physical challenge of the class was also very demanding. I really enjoyed the workouts of these classes, but damn aerial is hard! My body was still fatigued from experiencing two different sicknesses in the week before, so I was pushing myself to exert more energy than I really had. While trying the same movements again and again, not being able to fully understand the directions, and feeling the mental and physical exhaustion come over me, it all just hit me. The frustration. The loneliness. Feeling so tired. All of the moments where I am putting in so much effort to understand a conversation that is moving too fast for me to keep up with. The times where I can’t fully be myself because I don't know the words to express what I want to say. When I left the class, I let myself feel it all and cried. I called a friend to just hear a familiar voice. I know that this is part of being in a new place and learning a new language. Sometimes it all just gets to be too much, and that's okay.
These feelings hit me again in another situation where my body and mind were overworked. I went on a jungle trek to Machu Picchu (pictures below) that was filled with adventure and learning and fostered a sense of deep awe at the ecosystem and history around me. This experience was invigorating, and my first glimpse at a Peruvian jungle has me so excited to go to the Amazon. The other people in my group were really lovely, five Brazilians and a girl from Venezuela. Since I was the only person whose native language was English, for four days I was surrounded by so much Spanish (and some Portuguese). At first I really enjoyed this practice, and I am proud that I could understand most of what the guide told us throughout the trip without needing him to translate. The other travelers, however, spoke so fast and with a lot of words I didn’t know. I enjoyed getting to know them a bit through a mix of Spanish and English, but after three days of intense physical activity and so often feeling like an outsider to the conversations around me, I felt the frustration and loneliness again. The group was really great about including me in a lot of ways, but I could feel the connections forming around me, the jokes and constant chatting that I could barely get the gist of. I longed to feel like I was part of it, and I was so tired of feeling stuck on the outside. The experience was still incredible, and I’m grateful to have met all of these people, but I have missed feeling seen, feeling connected to the people around me.
I am noticing how loneliness has different levels at which it can be felt. On the everyday surface level, I have not been lonely here. I am constantly surrounded by people who are excited to chat and be in each others company. I enjoy getting to meet so many people, locals and other travelers, and learn about the journeys they are on. I can be a bit shy around new people, but there are so many opportunities to make friends. At this level, I have had an abundance of connection, and for that I am so grateful. There is another level of loneliness that I have been feeling, one characterized by a sense of emptiness and longing deep inside. I long for closeness, for people who I feel seen and understood by, people I can nourish with my love and care. This level of community and connection is so important to me, and is very central to my life back home, so I can feel the absence clearly, particularly in quiet moments. I have so much gratitude for the people I have in my life, but occasional messages and phone calls are so different from the feeling of being with those I love in person. I trust that I will find deeper connections throughout my time here, it just takes patience.
I have also met another type of challenge during my time here. Part of travel is never knowing who you will meet, and adapting to the people you are around. This is something I am used to in a lot of ways, but I was not anticipating coming across so many Israeli people here. Often this is just in passing, but for a couple days two guys from Israel came to stay at the same host family as me. This stirred up some conflicting feelings in me. Should I avoid the topic of politics and just engage in surface level conversation, or use this as an opportunity to hear their experience and perspective? They were kind and if I didn’t know where they were from, I would have no problem with them. And I didn’t have a problem per se, but I could feel some hesitation and tension in myself. I am someone who is very liberation-oriented and strongly in solidarity with the Palestinian people. I have felt grief and anger and sadness at the actions of Israel and the US towards Palestine. I am also a person who is very aware of nuance and complexity.
It is easy to villainize people that are associated with a government that is so violent, especially knowing how much propaganda that government instills in its citizens. But living in the US, I also know that most people are not our government, and there is so much out of our control. So it would be hypocritical of me to write off another person based on where they are from.
Sitting at the table for meals and on the walks to school, we would chat about a variety of topics, and for the first couple days it stayed pretty surface level, but I could feel my curiosity building. On the last day, it was just me and one of the guys walking together to school. We talked about why we chose the fields we were studying. I decided to ask why he chose to move to Israel, by then knowing that he spent much of his childhood in Alaska. He told me about the culture of family and community that he felt during his time in Israel. He told me how quickly people would invite him to join them for dinner when they found out he was there alone. I asked him about Palestine and he told me he felt it was complex, and that he served in the IDF for seven years and never killed anyone. He is a paramedic and cares deeply about helping people. He loves his country and feels a sense of home there. I still don’t quite know how hearing all of this makes me feel. He asked me for my thoughts on Palestine in return, and listened with openness. My response was cut off when we arrived at the school, and unfortunately we never had the chance to finish this conversation.
It is easy to make people into villains, to call them monsters or evil. I hear others do it all the time, and I know I’ve done it too, although for a couple years it's been an intention of mine to avoid doing this. It is true that there are so many people in this world doing truly horrible things. It is true that Israel is built on decades of illegal occupation and settler colonialism and genocide. It is true that land has been stolen and Palestinians have been treated as inhuman. It is easy to see people doing bad things as villains. It is easy to see countries that do bad things as evil. It is harder to accept that those we see as villains are still people.
These two guys aren't villains. They aren’t okay with much of what their country is doing, and I’m not okay with the actions of mine. There are beliefs of theirs I don’t agree with, and I still hope to see a free Palestine. Maybe their kindness and openness was an outlier, several locals here have told me about common rude tendencies they’ve experienced with Israeli tourists, but every person is different. I think this experience reminded me of the importance of being open to hearing the perspectives of people I may not agree with. It is easier to stay in our bubbles and avoid those that do not share our beliefs. Of course these conversations are not always productive or worth the energy, especially if the intention is just to fight or debate, but I think there is something important in learning how to meet someone we may call an enemy with openness, curiosity, and compassion. The inability to do this is so often the cause of hate and violence, so perhaps it is worth the practice.
I am now tucked away in a small village in the Sacred Valley, about an hour from Cusco. As much as I have enjoyed my time in Cusco, being in a city is also so draining for me. The cars and loud sounds and constant chaotic energy are not my preferred environment. After completing my first month of Spanish classes and going on a physically demanding adventure through the jungle, I decided I needed some time to recharge and ground myself before I make my way to another city.
I found a place to stay that is centered around fostering community and wellbeing (+ has the bonus of 19 sweet cats!). Upon first arriving here, I felt some hesitancy and was unsure if I was ethically aligned with this place and the people here. The city closest to here has a large population of expats, many of whom are appropriating and commercializing Indigenous cultures and traditions, so I was nervous that this community may also be participating in this form of extractivism (although I chose this place intentionally to avoid that type of environment). After more conversations, I have seen values and intentions that are aligned with mine. The people here, currently a mix of Peruvians and travelers (mostly Germans for some interesting coincidence) are centered around love, respect, reciprocity, and sacred connection with the Earth. I’m sure this place is not perfect (as nowhere is) but I tend to overthink the ethics of things, and I have not had red flags come up, so I am trying to just be present and enjoy my time here. It has been really nice to slow down and nourish my spirit. The cat cuddles have been so sweet, particularly with one cat that seems to feel especially drawn to me.
Yesterday, a group of us went way up to the top of the hill where we met with some locals to plant hundreds of potatoes. This family has offered some of their land for us to grow food. They will sometimes come to the gatherings at the place I am staying to offer their textiles. I offered my time and labor to plant seeds to nourish those who will stay here long after I have left.
When our planting was complete, we hung out at the local family’s house for several hours. We ate lunch and then the women brought out their intricately woven weavings, each design instilled with meaning, for us to admire and purchase if we desired. One of them showed us the different materials used to make and dye the plant fibers. Together we all laid in the grass, resting and chatting. The man showed us his garden and gifted us a harvest of chard and lettuce. I was given hugs hello and goodbye from people I had only just met. These kind of moments make it all seem so simple, how to be in relationship with people. To meet each other with kindness and care, to offer what we can and take only what we need. I am grateful to have had this opportunity to get my hands in the dirt (a feeling I have missed ), meet some really kind people, and be in a space where rest is central to life. I am looking forward to seeing what the next couple days here bring.
There is still more I could write, but this is where I will say goodbye for now. This reflection was a bit long and moved between several different topics, so if you read all the way through I love you. If you didn’t read it all I also love you just for being here.
I hope you all are finding a lot of beauty in the autumn days, and I offer you a reminder to rest.
With much gratitude,
Syd <3
