David Coveney | Page 24 | A personal blog transitioning into an exploration of the intersection of design, technology and ethics

Nowt like a failed stereotype to make you think – New York

Funny things stereotypes. They give you expectations. And then you find they often don’t match reality. New York is quiet… almost restful, after the jungle and Lima. There aren’t horns going off everywhere, people are polite and helpful (though they are in Peru also, I just can’t understand them so much) and the traffic isn’t even that bad.

I’ve heard a couple of people whining and complaining in a Woody Allen style. Other times a conversation can go like this:

“Hey bro! What’s up?!”
“Dude! What’s happenin’ what’s happenin’?”
“S’good man… catchya later!”

Not sure what’s wrong with the English style of muttering ‘morning’ at someone you only know a little. Or even just trying to pretend you’ve not seen them, and so avoiding the embarrasment of trying to find things to talk about with someone whose name you’re not even entirely sure of.

Oh, one more thing… after two months hanging around the southern tropics during their summer, turning up here is a damn cold shock to the system! It’s below freezing, windy, and I’ve had to buy a hat and scarf to keep myself from dying. Right now I don’t think I like the cold very much. I wanna sit in a swimming costume!

I’ll post stuff about Iquitos, Barranco and so on soon, or when I get home. Internet access in NYC is proving to be either incredibly expensive or just plain unavailable. If I can buy a cheap pda with WiFi that might turn out to be a reasonable proposition and then I can sell my old one when I get back to Blighty.

Home on Monday, by the way.

Can’t believe it’s all coming to an end. In a few days I’ll have to think about finding some work. Ick!

Ouch…

I thought a handy idea would be to carry some samplers of aftershave. Then if I wanted to smell nice I could just use that. Small and light.

These samples tend to come in small glass vials.

And in a rucksack, small glass vials aren’t so clever. They were safely inside my washbag, but sadly I didn’t notice they’d broken and several pieces fell out onto the bathroom floor. Eventually they found my foot. I just thought I’d stood on a stone.

Now, people have questioned my bringing a first aid kit, but it was damn handy for cleaning up the wound and disinfecting, so once the blood was stopped there was no further pain or infection.

Other blood letting, caused today, was when I patted a tree to say something about trees. I never knew palm trees sometimes came with sharp spines. I thought I’d slapped some fire ants or something, but no… it was the damn tree. Gonna be more careful what I pat from now on.

This is probably my last post until at least Sunday night, so don’t worry about the silence!

Oh, and in just a week’s time I’ll be in New York for a very different, and much colder, experience. Then a week Monday I get home. And I’ll be about ready I reckon….

La Cucaracha!

Sounds kinda sweet in the song.

But not when one of the b*stard things turns up on your neck. And talk about big… I’ve seen plenty in France and Spain, but this one looked capable of carrying off a small child.

Other wildlife I’ve met today includes a gian ant-eater. Comedy looks and big wet nose, but it used its claws on me so I’d get the hell out of its way. I’m just glad I was wearing jeans and not shorts. Then there was the tapir, a jaguar, assorted monkeys… all rescued by an animal sanctuary and all animals that people had tried and failed to keep as pets. Frankly, I can kind of understand the tapir – it’s funny and gentle. But the rest could easily be a liability.

And small monkeys… why do they always appear to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown?

The Motocarro (tuk-tuk)

Just a couple of days ago I was in Santiago, a city with a gleaming underground system purchased from the French. If you want to get a feel for the Santiago Metro, try travelling on line 1 in Paris. The trains are almost identical. The main difference is that the system is much much cleaner, and the stations smarter, in Chile.

And now in Iquitos I’m getting to enjoy using the motocarro which is the key form of transport around here so far as I can tell. Most are made by Honda, and you have to be impressed that a company as prestigious as they are doesn’t feel that such vehicles are beneath them. Could you imagine Mercedes or BMW making them? Or even the C50?

So, in the absence of Mercedes taxis I’m getting to live up to the advice in the Sunscreen Song, to do something that scares me every day.

I hoped that today I’d be able to leave for a lodge in the jungle, but sadly I’ll have to wait another day due to booking requirements. No problem, really. I can chill in Iquitos, read another book, and enjoy the vibe. I’ll also take the opportunity to charge up all my electronics, as electricity has yet to make it to the places I’m going. I daresay the mobile phone won’t work either. It’s kind of been fun answering calls from agents and saying that I didn’t want to talk too long because I was in the Amazon and it was kind of expensive… about 1.50GBP per minute so far as I can see, just to receive a call. Gits! It’s pure profiteering and next time I come here I’m going to buy local SIM cards and start using a non-geographic number in order to receive calls.

In the Amazon Jungle

I’ve just realised, in reading back through the various postings that I’ve missed out on fair chunks of the history of South America that I want to post.

But I’m not going to do it here. Stuff like that takes a little more preparation because otherwise you can be exceptionally misleading. But I’m dying to do some research on the one eyed, one legged, one armed bloke who helped to defend Cartagena (yes, I know I’ve not been there, but I’ve been reading a lot) because frankly I’d like to know how he managed it!

Then there’s all the background of the pre-Columbian times, the different cultures and tribes that ruled the Andes, and so on. It’s pretty fascinating, but without checking references all I can tell you is that they made a hell of a lot of pots. Lots and lots. I mean, the museums here have so many pots that I guess you pretty much can’t dig a hole in the Andes without unearthing several pots. And a bit of fabric. And maybe the odd skull or two.

So now I’m in the Amazon basin. Hopefully I’ll be spending the next few days in a lodge somewhere, probably being bitten to death by mosquitoes and sandflies but maybe also seeing some cool wildlife like pink dolphins (yes really!) and, erm, butterflies and stuff. Then it’ll be back to Lima, with a couple of days leeway in case of delays and whatever, and on to New York for the final leg of my jaunt.

After that I will actually be happy to get home. Whilst I’ve had a fantastic time I know it’ll be so nice to sleep in own bed again, to be able to listen to my own music, see my friends again, watch English TV… all those things really. The familiar and the straightforward stuff we can all take for granted. Oh, and nice cups of tea!

Sanhattan! Capital of Chile

If I’d woken up and been told that, due to a bout of amnesia I’d been flown to Madrid, then I could easily believe that’s where I’d landed. Seriously – Santiago is a smart, modern city with efficient public transport, occassional traffic jams, and lots of foreigners trying to make a buck. It feels like the most European city I’ve yet visited outside of Europe. Of course, there are parts of Lima and Cuzco that can pull the trick off too, but only in parts.

The only problem and downside really is that Marcela, whose place I’m staying at, has had to fly back to Madrid at short notice. She’s very kindly allowed me to use her apartment and said “treat it like your own home.” Silly girl. But lucky for her, there are no car parts handy for me to strip in the kitchen, so the damage is likely to be limited.

Exploring Santiago

I’ve yet to explore Santiago fully – that’s tomorrow’s job. I tried to find the centre of nightlife in Bellavista, and it seemed ok enough, but not especially attractive to a guy on his own (although there are ruder bars I could try, I decided not to) and so I got a touch bored trying to get drunk alone. Instead I went back to the Metro station and discovered that it’s closed by midnight! Modern public transport yes, but don’t expect it to be open at all hours. This presented me with a tricky problem – the taxi driver had never heard of where the apartment was, nor could I actually tell him about anything nearby. Eventually I remembered the names of a couple of hotels and he dutifully dropped me off outside Hooters.

Well, I had to didn’t I? I’ve heard of this place. Americans talk about these bars all the time. I assumed it was a quasi-religious place, given the reverence some held for it. It’s actually a bar where you are served by busty girls in hotpants, flesh coloured tights (which hide any cellulite – I’ve dated dancers, I know their tricks) and tight, slightly skimpy tops. That really is their only USP – the beer, food and atmosphere is about average. The girls are, I think, trained to look at you and bat their eyelids in such a way as to make guys think they fancy them. But anyone with half a brain will realise it’s an act. But I suppose the regulars are the ones that enjoy this game, and that’s presumably how the firm makes its money. Still, having heard so much about the place it was nice to get it out of my system.

And they played damn Beatles music. Everywhere I go in the world, The Beatles. I mean, good group and all, but it’s like I can never get away from Liverpool at times. I was standing on top of a mountain and got chatting to a guy from Concepcion. And what were his parting words? “You’ll never walk alone.”

Worms!

For a panicked moment I thought maybe I’d picked up worms. Perhaps from a cat, dog or llama I’d been playing with.

Then I remembered, I’d earlier eaten spaghetti. And I’ve not long had a nasty bout of food poisoning. And it takes a while for the digestive system to work properly after being thoroughly purged.

Panic over.

Another high altitude desert – San Pedro de Atacama

I must like them, because I think this is about my third. No more deserts from now, however. My tan is suitably well developed (at least on exposed skin – need to work on my back now) and I think I now understand what dry empty places are about.

The Village of San Pedro de Atacama

San Pedro de Atacama seems to be a hugely popular and successful village. I’ve not seen such a high ratio of tourists to locals anywhere else. Even Cuzco is busy with Peruvians, not just furriners. But it’s a pleasant village, and the international influence means that the food is good (at last!) and the facilities great. On the way up (yet another overnight bus) I’d got talking to a young Brazilian couple after she’d slammed the bus window into my head. Maybe this is the Brazilian way to introduce yourself to others? We ended up sticking together and this helped in finding affordable accomodation in San Pedro, where at this time of year it can be a touch tricky. After searching we got a decent deal in a clean and charming Slovenian run hostel. Though somebody told us off for making too much noise when we rolled in a bit tipsy in the middle of the night.

A trip to the Valle de la Luna showed us a landscape that really did feel lunar. And very dead. There are no plants, animals or water in this part of the desert and it’s said to be a very dangerous place to get lost in. The sunset was a typically beautiful desert sunset, but nothing too amazing. Sometimes the weather just doesn’t play the game.

I’m now at the airport, waiting for my plane to Santiago. I have a business lounge pass and it works here! Free Internet! Free Biscuits! Free Beer! I think I’ll go and enjoy myself now. Ciao!

Sick boy – Arica, Lluta Valley, Lauca National Park

So in Arica, looking for something to do, I found the offices of Raices Andinas (or something like that, maybe the other way round – I don’t have my notes on me) and booked myself on a four day expedition of the local national parks. And this was a fascinating trip indeed, although in the end for some of the wrong reasons. But it was great too and I’d recommend it to anyone.
The tour guide, the tour, and the facilities laid on were great. I have to say that now. We started with a market trip to buy provisions for the journey, before a museum visit to give us some background on the indigenous culture. The one real highlight of this museum was seeing the very oldest mummies in the world, dating back 8000 years. They were tiny, and with the clay plates over the faces, mysterious and eerie.

Continue reading “Sick boy – Arica, Lluta Valley, Lauca National Park”

Tacna-Arica

These two border towns are found on either side of the Peru/Chile border. Reasonably pleasant, they’re popular for their shopping and in the case of Arica the beach. There’s not a huge else to say about them really and my main reason for coming here has been because they provide the highest density of addresses from my father.

Tacna was a disappointment. At one hotel the lady believed she may have seen him in the past, but a check of her records showed nothing. People were, however, sympathetic to my search and have been very helpful – including some new ideas to pursue such as asking the airlines to check their passenger lists (I’ve no idea how keen they’ll be to do this, but maybe I have contacts….) and to also put notices in the newspapers. I’ve also had some ideas of my own. In a year’s time my father’s passport will be due for renewal. I will now send a letter to all embassies and consulates in South America, leaving a message for him. With a little luck one of these may get through. It gives me an opening to try.

For the rest of today I’ll go around the addresses I have in Arica. Who knows – I may get lucky, I may not. But at least I can feel secure in having tried to do something.