Cuzco

The last time I blogged about my trip in South America, I was turning the tables on a few bad men from Peruvian immigration. Finally able to relax after some stressful situations (read the previous 5 posts or so), I could now enjoy Cuzco for the rest of the day. My first priority was to make my way down to the train station to buy my tickets for the next day's trip to Machu Picchu. I had some great Peruvian empanadas, got my tickets, and walked around town for the rest of the day. I even talked to my mom from a phone booth and exchanged the last 100,000 Colombian pesos that I had been carrying around for over two months. And get this...this lady selling souvenirs said that she would lower the price on some sweet stuff, but just for me! Things were starting to look up for me, and probably for anyone else who talked to the same souvenir lady.

By the way, I know that you were hoping for some music to listen to while you read, so here is a good one for you. I would open this link, and any other links, in a new window or tab. It's better this way, in my humble opinion, so as to listen to the music while you read.

Cuzco, the capital of the Incas, is incredible. The mountains, the narrow and steep streets, and the combination of new (Spanish) and old (Incan) architecture make the place spectacular. I walked up and down as many streets as I could find, and here are a few pictures.








The only negative thing that I heard about Cuzco was that it was too commercial. I heard a young woman say this while on the bus ride from La Paz to Copacabana, Bolivia. I had a hard time believing it because I had idealized Cuzco so much that flaws seemed beyond reason. But when I arrived, I knew what she meant. When my Bolivian friend and I had arrived at the Plaza de Armas (the last picture above is from this plaza), we had people coming up to talk to us within 5 minutes of sitting down. They wanted to get us to buy their tours around the city or Machu Picchu, stay in their hostel or hotel, and so forth.

This was not even the beginning. I ran into people all over town with something to sell, such as a hand-crafted item, sunglasses, or a pose so you could take a picture of them and their llama. One girl even listed every U.S. president starting with Obama all the way back to Franklin D. Roosevelt. I knew she was right because once I memorized all the presidents and knew them all from first to last and in reverse too. When I did it at the work talent show, I went back from Lincoln to Washington, and then forward from Lincoln to Bush. But I forgot Truman and so it didn't go as well as planned. In any case, this girl had learned all of this information to tell people hoping that they would pay her. These people are persistent. You give them an inch, and they take 20 miles.

I was walking by some kids who wanted me to buy these small paintings they said they had done. I was talking to them and then this older kid, a teenager or so, came over and told me to give them some money so they could get a soccer ball. Once this kid came in, I was out because it bothered me that he was so intrusive of our nice little conversation! I walked away and the kids came up to me again, and so I bought these two paintings from them. But as soon as I did, a flood of kids ran to me to get me to buy their stuff, which was followed by the girl who knows all the American presidents.

One group of girls posed for a picture with a little llama. They were cute, so I gave in and took a picture. I gave one of the girls some money intended for the two of them, but the other got mad because I had only given money to one. Other girls would tell me that I had promised earlier to come back and get one, etc. etc. Here are some other pictures, including of Coricancha, the Temple of the Sun, where the Spaniards tore down much of the original Incan temple and put their cathedral on top. Pretty symbolic of the whole relationship between the invaders and invaded. In these and the above pictures, the Incan stones are usually the bigger ones without mortar.









P.S. If you ever wondered what Inca Garcilaso de la Vega's house in Cuzco looked like, look no further. Oh, and if you want to see a copy of his "Comentarios reales de los incas" (Royal Commentaries of the Incas) 1) in the original language (Spanish) and 2) purchased in Cuzco, talk to me. I got it and another together for like 30 soles. And you say they give these deals to everyone!

The Quest for 52

I'm taking a break from talking about my experiences this summer in South America to tell you about one of my two 2009 resolutions. Don't worry, I have plenty of stories to keep putting on here. I haven't written in a while due to final exams, but over my break I should be able to catch up. Things to look forward to: Cuzco, Machu Picchu, Philadelphia, the world's best milkshakes, the naked waiter, and much more.

In addition to some goals that I set for every new year, I had two resolutions for 2009. One was to run from the top of the island of Manhattan to the bottom in one shot. It didn't happen, and you could know this just by looking at my gut: I'm pushing two bills now (200 pounds)! I'm not there yet, but getting close. I started on my goal a few times but suffered a few setbacks: bruised ribs (which made it painful to run across the street when a car was coming), a nasty cold, and lots of homework. A similar goal will carry over into 2010: the chest should come out farther than the stomach, and that is what needs to happen this new year!

Goal number 2 was to read 12 non-law school books. I had read an article about a competition that George W. Bush and Karl Rove have each year to see who can read more books. I wanted something to do to help me relax while dealing the stresses of law school and figured that this would also help me become more well rounded. I figured that a book a month would be perfect. Things went well, and I read 9 between January and the middle of May. It really helped my studies, mind, and psyche in general because it became a release from school.

When I left for South America, I took 3 books with me. Within a few weeks, I had read them and so I purchased and read a few more and read some more in bookstores all over Brazil. My main blog entries that deal with books in New York, Brazil, and elsewhere are here and here. When I came to the end of the summer, I had read 29 books total. I thought about the possibility of reading 52, one for each week, but figured that a busy semester would prevent me from reading 23 books. I kept reading on the subway every day, when I had free time here and there, and before going to bed. I started to realize that 52 was a realistic goal and kept working toward it.

Today, with a few days to spare, I am happy to report that I finished my 52nd book of 2009. Some of you who I have told about this goal have requested a list of the books. Here's your list, along with my general rankings of the books and a few cool little experiences with some of the books. Enjoy.

The Best
1. Les Misérables by Victor Hugo (incredible)
2. Notre-Dame of Paris by Victor Hugo
3. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson
4. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

The Great
5. The Accidental President of Brazil by Fernando Henrique Cardoso (read this in Brazil)

6. Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne

7. The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux

8. The 39 Steps by John Buchan

9. The Lost City of Z: A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon by David Grann

10. Bourne Supremacy by Robert Ludlum

11. 1808 by Laurentino Gomes (history of the Portuguese royalty's exile to Rio de Janeiro, read this while in Rio!)

12. Dracula by Bram Stoker

13. 20,000 Leagues under the Sea by Jules Verne

14. Rip Van Winkle, the Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Other Stories by Washington Irving (read this while on the train going out to Sleepy Hollow, NY!)

The Very Good
15. A Death in Brazil: A Book of Omissions by Peter Robb
16. Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

17. The General in His Labyrinth by Gabriel García Márquez

18. Bourne Ultimatum by Robert Ludlum

19. An Ordinary Man: An Autobiography by Paul Rusesabagina

20. The Valley of Fear by Arthur Conan Doyle

21. Chronicle of a Death Foretold by Gabriel García Márquez

22. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle

23. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

24. His Last Bow by Arthur Conan Doyle

25. Chief of Station, Congo: Fighting the Cold War in a Hot Zone by Larry Devlin

26. Killing Pablo: The Hunt for the World's Greatest Outlaw by Mark Bowden

27. Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson

28. Greenmantle by John Buchan

The Good

29. Political Order in Changing Societies by Samuel P. Huntington

30. Journal of Christopher Columbus by Christopher Columbus

31. The Search for El Dorado by John Hemming (read this in Colombia and Brazil, potential sites of El Dorado if it exists or existed)

32. Capitalism and Freedom by Milton Friedman
33. Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

34. Born in Blood and Fire: A Concise History of Latin America by John Charles Chasteen

35. The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli

36. Polyarchy by Robert A. Dahl

37. Francisco de Miranda: A Transatlantic Life in the Age of Revolution by Karen Racine

38. King Leopold's Ghost: A Story of Greed, Terror, and Heroism in Colonial Africa by Adam Hochschild
39. No One Writes to the Colonel by Gabriel García Márquez

The Boring

40. Lost City of the Incas by Hiram Bingham (read this while in Cuzco and Machu Picchu)

41. Doing Comparative Politics: An Introduction to Approaches and Issues

42. Comparative Politics: Rationality, Structure and Culture by Mark Irving Lichbach

43. Nail Your Law Job Interview by Natalie Prescott

44. Issues and Methods in Comparative Politics by Todd Landman

45. Modernization, Cultural Change, and Democracy by Ronald Inglehart

46. Democracy and the Market: Political and Economic Reforms in Eastern Europe and Latin America by Adam Przeworski

47. Area Studies and Social Science: Strategies for Understanding Middle East Politics by Mark Tessler

The Disappointing

48. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

49. Che's Afterlife: The Legacy of an Image by Michael Casey

50. Reminiscences of the Cuban Revolutionary War by Che Guevara

51. Back on the Road by Che Guevara

52. Guerilla Warfare by Che Guevara

When I am able to force myself through The Last of the Mohicans, that will also appear in the disappointing list. Maybe for 2010. It's funny that I had to read three books by Che Guevara to realize that they never met my expectations. Fool me thrice, shame shame shame on me. They're good, but just not as exciting as I think they will be. Motorcycle Diaries was good, but these others did not meet my expectations. Well, here is the list, reading these books has been great, have a great finish to 2009.

Clint vs. Peruvian Immigration, Part III (of III)

It was around 11:30 or so when the immigration officer told us that we had to be back by noon in order to get my passport stamped. The consul told him not to go anywhere and we literally ran outside. We had to get up the street to the bank and get back as soon as we could because, if you remember correctly, this guy basically told us that--while the office would be open--he wouldn't be there in the afternoon. It was Friday and if I didn't get this entry fee paid at the bank before this dude left, I would be out of luck.

Here is a map of the street in Cuzco where all of this was taking place. El Sol is the street where both the immigration office and bank are. You can see the immigration office in the lower right part of the picture ("Oficina de Inmigraciones"). I am not exactly sure where the bank is on El Sol, but I think it is probably near the street called "Afligidos" on the top of the picture. It wasn't that far, but things were complicated by the fact that we had less than 30 minutes to get to the bank, pay the fee, get back to the office, and get this guy to put the stamp in the passport.

Oh, and maybe you'd like to listen to some music while you read. If so, listen to this song by a Brazilian group called Skank.

We ran outside and flagged down a taxi. There are signs all over Cuzco telling you how to distinguish between legal taxis and illegal taxis. I don't think this one was legit, but it didn't matter! We jumped in and headed up the street. On the way, the consul was telling me that sometimes this bank is packed while other times it is not so bad. When people say that a bank is packed in a Latin American country, they mean it. I'm not sure what it is exactly that causes these banks to be so full of people, but I've never seen anything in the U.S. like it. These banks are often bigger, in terms of physical space and tellers, and there are tons of people.

We arrived at the bank, went inside, and saw lines of people. These were not your 5-pm-Friday-get-your-paychecks-in-before-the-bank-closes lines. These were Disneyland lines. At this point we were beyond being knee deep in trouble . . . we were neck deep! She told me to get in line and she would look for some way to get to a teller. I waited a minute or two, moving along with the line. Then I saw the consul motioning to me. She had found her way to the front of some line. After a brief encounter with a security guard, we got the fee paid and got the proof of payment to take back to the office.

We ran outside, hopped in another cab, and hurried back to the office. On the way, she told me a little about Coricancha/Qorikancha, which is on the same street as the bank and immigration office. See the map above. It was kind of funny because we were in the middle of this stressful situation, but she started telling me about this Incan temple (Temple of the Sun, pretty big deal) and how the Spaniards tore parts of it down and built their own church on top.

Shortly after we passed Coricancha, we were back at the immigration office. We ran upstairs, showed the dirtbag everything we had, and he looked over everything with a level of scrutiny that I am sure he had not used in years. He silently and slowly looked over my documents and the receipt from the bank. Finally, he unlocked the drawer underneath his desk and pulled out the stamp. It was under his desk the whole time! All that talk from the other guy about not being able to and then this guy saying he couldn't do it and it was right there in the same desk across which I had told him my story hours before! The consul told me in English that he was just trying to save himself in case any problems came up when I left the country a few days later. With the email from the national immigration office telling him to do it and all that, he would be guiltless. But if he had given me the stamp without all this brew-ha-ha, he would have been on the hook.

He took out the stamp, carefully put it in the ink pad, and then slowly put it on the passport. Though his face was trying not to tell it, it seemed as if every move required overcoming the anger stemming from the realization that he was doing for free what he wanted to get paid for. He put the stamp in the passport, wrote the date, and signed it. It was done!

He gave me some advice as to what to do if anyone in the airport in Lima (didn't happen) asked about my special stamp (not from an airport or a border town). Ahh, more altruism from he who just wanted to help me. What a guy. Throughout the time in the office with the consul and the immigration officer, I frequently smiled knowing that I was turning the tables on the guys who tried to pull a fast one on me. I wanted to say a lot of things to them. One that almost slipped off my tongue more than once was "She (the consul) works well, doesn't she? Yeah, and I don't even have to pay her!" I figured that I shouldn't rock the boat and just let things work out with the consul making the calls. Really, though, what a great lady the consul was! Now I left the office as a legal visitor in Peru and had the rest of the day to enjoy Cuzco.

Clint vs. Peruvian Immigration, Part II

So these two immigration dirtbags have just told me that unless I want to go all the way back to the border and get a passport stamp, I'll need to show up after hours to illegally acquire my special stamp. This, as you can imagine, was slightly disconcerting.

By the way, while you're reading, you should listen to this song by Milton Nascimento. Saw him live recently here in NYC and he has some great stuff. He's Brazilian and Paula e Bebeto is the name of the song. And after that, have a listen to Jorge Ben's Quem cochicha o rabo espicha. Never seen Jorge Ben live, but he has great music. No pictures in this post, just music.

I left the immigration office feeling a little worried. I didn't know what to do, but I knew that I wasn't going to pay these dudes anything. On my way in to the office, I had seen a piece of paper with information for all of the embassies in Lima. After leaving the office, I remembered that information and decided to take advantage of my American citizenship! I had also noticed that there was a U.S. consulate in Cuzco. I wrote down the information for both offices and went to make a phone call. I told the guy at the phone place that I needed to make a local call. We called, no one answered, and then he told me that the consulate was just a few blocks away. I made my way over there, met the security guard out front, explained everything to him, and was happy to hear that the consul was on her way over as we were speaking.

The consul arrived and I quickly realized that I had made a very good decision. She is Peruvian, but lived in the U.S. for a while. Great lady. She rolled her eyes at what the immigration officers told me and immediately called the national immigration office to get authorization to give me my passport stamp. She talked to someone, got the authorization, wrote a letter for me, and took me back to the office where I had just left. I was so relieved that things were going well.

It was great getting back to the office and seeing the looks on the faces of the guys who wanted to cheat me out of my money but were now realizing that they wouldn't get a dime! The consul went to talk to someone, the person in charge of the office, but we found out that she was out sick. The dude who kept telling me he wanted to help me was the guy in charge. His assistant was next in line. They acted like they were cooperating but were actually giving us a lot of hassle. At first, the guy in charge was out of the office deporting some South African for dealing drugs. Meanwhile, the other guy said he couldn't do anything because the other guy had the stamp.

The guy in charge came back and seemed happy to help. In reality, he just wanted me to pay him a little money, and now was being a real annoyance while acting as if he was helping. He said he would give me the stamp, but he needed a verification from the national immigration office. Fair enough, that made sense. He said that a phone call would not be ok because it could anybody on the phone. Only fax. Well, idiot, it could also be anyone on the other end of the fax line, but whatever. We called and the office said they would fax. Something weird happened, which seems to be the axiom of faxing, and instead they emailed the office.

All of this took a while because we were waiting for the fax, and then the email, and then there were also other people coming in and out with their own issues. The consul told me that if the boss had not been sick, we would have been in and out. So this guy finally got the email, sat down to read it, and said that it was enough for him to give me the stamp. However, I would have to pay the entry fee at the bank. This was legit; I wouldn't be paying them, it was at the national bank and everyone who enters has to pay. It may have been a good thing that the bus left the border without me getting out because I had no money and wouldn't have been able to pay there.

All of this took us up to about 11:30 am. I had been working on this stuff for over 2 hours. The dirtbag officer told us to go to the bank and then bring back the receipt for the payment of the fee, and then he would give me the stamp. He then said that he was going somewhere at noon. The consul asked if he would be there in the afternoon. I can still remember the tone he used to say "A veces atendemos, a veces no." Dirty! Basically he was saying "Maybe we will, maybe we won't." So the consul told him not to go anywhere and we ran out of the office to head up the street to the national bank, hoping to pay the fee and get back to the office before he left.