Huacachina..

I am now in Huacachina, Peru (close to Ica on the western coast), the king pueblito of sandboarding. It seems pretty interesting. White water rafting was a bust (long story that I won't get into). I spent one night in Camana, Peru, which was a pretty dirty little town that gringos obviously don't pass through. Miss you all - after this I'm heading into Lima, then up the coast to buy a surfboard, and I've been thinking about attempting to just camp on the beach somewhere by Trujillo for a good long time alone and out of civilization. We'll see. I've been keeping a journal, and instead of writing on the blog about all the stuff I've been doing, I'm putting this excerpt from an entry in Camana, instead.

"...The streetlights are in need of repair: those that are not out are either weakly flickering or so yellow in color that the light is disorienting and not helpful while passing through its buttery glow. I keep my pace brisk, creating my own breeze over the inconsistent patches of dirty sidewalks, interspersed with cobblestone (laid primitively; someone didn't know what they were doing) and earthy, dry patches of dust. I keep my head down and covered with a hood. My eyes dart back and forth, and every minute or two I check my back to be certain I'm not being followed in these dark, yellow streets. With my pace, my heart rate quickens and my adrenaline rises to abnormal levels. This is the process I must partake in for the sole purpose of a quick stop at a street shop. Before pulling out my wallet to pay, I first look around. I stand with my back guarded against the wall so my pack is not accessible to passersby.

This is what South America has degraded me and so many others to. Poverty, greed, and petty opportunity have melted together to produce two new gangs: those that have (defense) and those that don't (offense). Society is broken here, and those that have must precaution themselves against those that will take every opportunity afforded them. This, as I play this game with all the other night owls on the prowl, is what South American society has brought on me. New nerves, new senses, new cautions, new fears. They will never be reconciled as long as life continues under the societal dirt and grime of the flickering yellow light. This is a case where some of the animals have shit upstream from where they drink. The streets covered in trash, mangy dogs, bums, and dilapidated buildings will never clean themselves up alone... South America must help itself, and to have widespread understanding and concurrence with such a broad goal is a dream that has long burned out in the hearts of these lonely souls, these people who live for themselves and a strong faith in Catholicism, but it is only Jesus, Mary, and Dio (God), three characters in a book but not physically present here, in these streets, except for a picture on a dirty restaurant wall, or a crucifix hanging on a neck; it is not a faith or belief in Mother Earth, or Mama Coca, or Pacha Camac, the Earth Maker. This is an unattainable future solely because it is predetermined in their minds to be so, and thus the trash continues to multiply, along with the bums and breeding packs of dogs and broken street lights; this is the dilemma of the third world: unless everyone can see and participate in the brighter, progressive future, it will always be unattainable and even regressive, plummeting itself into a black hole of poverty, crime, and disorder, constantly reinstating itself as the gutter of society, the ones that were kicked to the curb and never arose.

It is here I walk with lowered head, and my hood is to cover my identity as much as it is to cover my shame for knowing a better life based on the pure luck of the country I was born in."

-Brian