The rest of Peru

(The following was actually written July 22, 2012, but I did not have the opportunity to post it until now.)

I find myself having gone from the jungles of Ecuador, to the beautiful sandy beaches of the desert coast of Peru, to the traffic congested and noise polluted city of Lima , only to have ended up in the mountain pueblo of Urubamba Peru. I am about a two hour train ride from the famous ruins of Machupicchu. Sadly, I found out that you must book days in advance if you hope to enter the ruins, at least during the busy season. Therefore I will not be visiting them since I do not have the time to waste here. I am anxious to get to my next project and feel useful again. I have been once as a child and do have some memories of the place, so I am not too heartbroken, not to mention it costs a minimum of $120 to go and I’d rather use that elsewhere. On a different note, I ate cuy (guinea pig) for the first time tonight and am praying that my childhood pet guinea pig, Tribble, will forgive me, but I had to try it. It is a common dish here in Peru, along with llama and alpaca, which I will be trying soon, if my stomach permits. It was a bit strange eating cuy since there is no disguising it, as the entire cuy lay on my plate staring up at me with its mouth wide open. The flavor is difficult for me to describe since the only thing I think of that came close was a squirrel that I once ate as a teenager. I will leave it with the mere comment that it will be the last time I choose to eat it. It was not entirely bad, but certainly not my first choice of meats.

Since my last entry I placed myself in communication with the family of Gaetana Glaleska, one of my friends back home. They were kind enough to put me up for a night during my stay in the Trujillo area. It was a nice little house around the corner from the ocean. I met one of her sisters, Gretta, who was very kind, but was sick and had classes so I only briefly met her. I met her little brother by the name of Benjamin, who without hesitation, gave up his bedroom for me with a smile on his face. I’m not sure of his age, but I think around 10 maybe. I didn’t get to see him much either since he was at school most of the time. The one I did get to meet and get to know a little more is Patricio, her father. This man is a character. You can’t help but love the guy from the start. He’s a sugar cane farmer and has the look of a man that loves to spend his time in the fields and outside. He loves to talk and is never at a loss for words, as colorful as they often are. He invited me to go run some errands with him the next morning. I had no idea what that would entail and gladly accepted the invite. We left fairly early in the morning for the city of Trujillo first and ended up at his mother’s house. It’s always funny to see people with their mothers. No matter what age they are, they become a child in the presence of mom. Here, a grown man, getting into a discussion with his mom about him getting rid of his warn out, favorite jeans. I thoroughly enjoyed being the virtually invisible bystander. Then, we boarded a bus and headed out to a farming community called Viru, all the while he was talking my ear off, though half the time I couldn’t understand a word he said. He speaks fast and not very clearly most of the time. It quickly became apparent he is a well-known man in the community as everywhere we went, one person or another was saying hi to him. After running a few more errands we ended up at a potentially gorgeous villa/ranch in the outskirts of the town. I say potentially because I’m sure it once was, but it has long since been abandoned and run down. The house is large and spacious with a guesthouse in the back, larger then most people’s only home. There is a complex for the ranch hands to live in and stables nearby. A swimming pool with an arched bridge crossing over it decorates the front lawn. A large corral along the side of the house, with fields surrounding the outskirts of the property complete the scene. The only inhabitants now are the rats and insects along with two dogs and the six horses he keeps tied up on the grounds. It made me sad to hear the story of how it came to be this way. I will not share the story as it only comes from one persons point of view and it defames some people. So I will leave the subject alone, with the addition that, aside from other things, the pueblo nearby has grown, and with it, the crime in the area. It is no longer a very safe place to live and it would be costly to upkeep. Patricio is passionate about his animals, most especially his horses. He and I spent several hours of the day taking care of the horses and dogs. Much of the rest of the day was spent driving to his different fields that he has scattered in the surrounding villages. I learned a bit about the cane business and unlike many farms in the states that grow other plants, it is a year round process just to grow the sugarcane. I did spend some time in the fields working as well, and that part is much the same as the other farms I have worked on. We finished the day with the horses again, but this time he saddled up one of them. We contemplated my getting on the horse, but it was not very broken and my experience on horses is limited. So we chose the wiser route and left it to the expert. After arriving back at the house at around 8 pm, I said goodbye to Patricio who almost seemed genuinely sad to see me go as he said, “You know where we live now and you are more than welcome to stay.” But then he said something else, “We’ve only spent the day together, but it feels like I’ve known you all my life.” I was very touched by that comment. Benjamin walked me to where the bus would take me into Trujillo. He put his hand on my shoulder and looked at me with the air of a grown man and very sincerely told me to be careful and to come back and visit sometime. I couldn’t help but laugh inside with a smile on the outside. I like Benjamin, he’s a good kid. Upon arrival at the bus station in Trujillo I was going to change, but found my clothes had mold on them from the jungle, days previous. They had never fully dried. So I decided to stay one more night.

The next morning I went north a bit to Huanchaco, a little surf town. While I waited for my clothes to be washed, I decided to actually take a surf lesson. I’ve surfed three times in my life, but never took a lesson. I must say it was worth it. The instructor was actually surprised at my ability to grasp it and by the end of our session was giving me the more advanced lessons that one doesn’t usually get on their first day. This by no means indicates I am good, only that I caught on quick. I have much practicing to do. I love the ocean and being in it. There has always been something that draws me to it. It is enchanting and relaxing. It’s power demands respect and its beauty is spellbinding. The sound can leave you in a trance while the smell, for me is nostalgic. Right now though, for me, it is a connection to familiarity and with that comes comfort and peace.

The next leg of the trip brought me to the big city of Lima. It is a massive city with millions of people. I found myself in the middle of downtown at 3am as I walked the streets looking for a place to stay for the night. The Sheraton Hotel looked awfully appealing, but I can’t afford such luxury. While the prostitutes were anxious to make me comfortable for the night, I quickly moved on to a location a good distance away from that district where I finally found a place to stay for the few hours left of the morning. The next day I met up with my dear friend Paola Lam. I met Paola a couple of years ago in the states through my old boss and friend Dawn Burgess. I spent one afternoon with her and we have been friends ever since. Here in Peru, I spent several days with her and her family/friends. They had a spare room for me so it was quite comfy. Much of the time I spent on my own while she was at work, but I didn’t mind since she too lives a couple of blocks from the beach. I found myself out there a lot, writing. One day we went out to a place called Lachay, which is a couple of hours north in the middle of the desert. As you drive literally through dunes and barren landscape for as far as the eye can see, you then take a detour on a dirt road and head to where the eyes cannot see,.. the clouds. As you enter the clouds you slowly begin to see growth on the ground. First, little grasses begin to show, then bushes, and even trees. With plants, come birds and other life. We hiked around for a couple of hours in this strange oasis. The moisture in the air was enough that by the time we were done, we were wet and somewhat cold. It was a wonderfully eerie hike through the clouds with all of the strangely shaped trees in the mist and the imposing granite boulders that seemed to appear out of nowhere in the fog. Truly an amazing sight to see in the middle of a desert. On a different day, Paola took me to one of the old catholic cathedrals/convents in downtown. She used to be a tour guide there, so they let us in for free and we got to be by ourselves as we wandered the catacombs. Supposedly there are 7 levels of burials below the one level that we got see. How many thousands of people were buried there? In just the level that I saw, there were representative bones for hundreds, if not thousands already. Catholic cathedrals are amazing structures, but there is a very obvious reason that they are a common centerpiece for horror movies, they are creepy!

On a different note, that same evening as Paola walked me through Lima’s little Chinatown, we found out her sister had been robbed and as far as we knew, no one had heard from her after a phone call ended in a scream and the phone number was disconnected shortly thereafter. You can imagine Paola’s panic and fear for her sister as she made call after call to different people trying to accomplish something. Imagine the frustration that comes with the feelings of helplessness and knowing that the police would be useless in a case like this down here. As we were driving back to her house, I said a prayer in my heart, that if something did happen, that there were only objects robbed and nothing else, and that we would find out soon that her sister was fine. No sooner had I closed my prayer in my mind, Paola received a call from her aunt saying that her sister was fine and that they had stolen her phone and some other things, but that, other than being a little shook up, nothing else had happened. What an incredible Father in Heaven we have, who answers prayers so immediately. God is there, and he is listening. Just talk to him. After having seen a few other sights around the city of Lima and its outskirts, I finished my stay with a visit to the Lima Temple of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. There I served my God and those who have gone before.

What better way to volunteer than to give your time to our Heavenly Father. I make a point of noting this because as I have roughly scheduled out my journey’s timetables, and it looks like if I want to get home by Nov. or Dec then I can only volunteer at maybe three more locations for two weeks each. Travel appears to be a lot more slow going than I had originally anticipated. So much of the service I will be doing on this trip will be done in the Temples of our God. Of course things can change quickly and I may not even get that, but that is what I hope.

I haven’t spoken much on the actual travel portion of my journeys. Perhaps mostly because it isn’t usually that interesting. For now I have used public transportation. It is not too costly, and the people here are not accustomed to giving free rides to hitchhikers. However, this does mean I share a double-decker bus with many kinds of people. I have seen all types, even drunks that have boarded. The conditions are not terribly uncomfortable for a few hours, but more than 6 becomes excessive and considerably uncomfortable. I tell you this because the bus ride from Lima to Cuzco was 23 hours nonstop up winding mountain roads. I made the mistake of eating the food they provided and by about 6 hours into the trip I was hit with food poisoning. From the sounds and smells on the bus and the sights seen in the bathroom with no toilet seat, I was not the only one who got sick, whether from motion or food. For those of you with weak stomachs, I apologize and you may not want to continue reading the rest of this paragraph. I describe the scene only to show that this trip is not all fun and games and it comes with its misery and pain. The bathroom on the bus was soon even more unsanitary than it was at the start and if you were lucky enough to not be sick from the food, the smells and sights of the excrements, both on the toilet and in the sink, would soon do the job. To make matters worse, in most public restrooms down here, you must provide your own toilet paper. This was no exception. Well, like an idiot American I left mine in my bag in the luggage compartment. Unused pages from my notebook were my saving grace. Crumpling and re-crumpling can do wonders for comfort. Pain and misery were my companions the entire rest of the trip. Needless to say, I did not sleep much. As icing on the cake, the change of altitudes was very apparent in my throat and head. What could have been a beautiful and picturesque ride was turned into a nightmare and will go down in the books as one of the worst rides of my life. Cuzco could not come soon enough.

To end on a happier note, I arrived safe in Cuzco and found a hotel. In spite of the fever and chills I had for the first couple of hours in bed, I ended up sleeping quite well the rest of the night. The only good thing about food poisoning, is that it usually only lasts a day or so. I spent this morning walking around Cuzco a bit, seeing the various Catholic cathedrals and then caught a little van (combi) to Urubamba an hour away. So having just gotten over food poisoning yesterday, it may not have been a good night to try cuy.

The days here are quite warm and the nights can get quite cold. That’s the life of the adventurer. The mountains remind me a bit of the Wasatch Front mountains of Utah. I do mean the side that you can see from the cities and not so much the forest areas. I am in what the people here consider to be the Sacred Valley and it truly is gorgeous. I hiked up one of the mountains this afternoon and though I felt the altitude, the reward was worth it as I looked out over the valley. In front of me lay the valley filled with little houses and behind me were snowcapped mountains. It was breathtaking. As I sat and watched the sunset over the mountains I knew that this is the gift given to those who are willing to put forth just a little effort. I am always glad when I do. With that all being said, I leave you in God’s hands and will hopefully write again soon.

Photos added

I've made a small slideshow on the home page and additional pages with slide shows from the major areas Mike has visited. Mike has commented on a few photos on his Facebook page, The World Through My Eyes.

The slide shows may not be visible on devices that limit/restrict Flash, like a standard iPad.

Enjoy!

-Chris

Merazonia

I suppose I should begin this with an apology to any and all that may have been concerned due to my lack of updates for two or three weeks. I do have a valid excuse.

After leaving Ferrenafe, and those incredible people I was blessed to have been able to get to know and to work with, I caught a bus up to Guayaquil Ecuador, where I spent my first day hiking around a portion of the city searching out the LDS temple with only the vision of having seen it from the airplane as my map. As often happens with me, I managed to hike almost directly to it, only to find out it was closed due to the day being a Monday.
Oops. It’s hard to remember what day of the week it is. I guess I’m just lucky enough to still be able to recognize when it’s day or night. I then sought out a hostel.

After several hours of hiking I finally found one in the evening. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but it was apparently in a shady portion of the city. I only know this because I left that evening to find a supermarket, which happened to be only a couple of blocks away. About a half a block away from my hostel I saw two groups of youth and suddenly the group closest to me started screaming, “Run!” to each other. No sooner had they bolted, almost immediately about one to three feet behind my head, a boulder a little bigger than a softball smashed into the van window I had just barely passed, shattering it with ease and sending shards spraying onto my back and down my shirt. It had, apparently been hurled by the group that was further away from me. Just one second earlier and I may not have been able to be writing this or anything else, ever again. Shortly after the smash, a couple of cops came running down the street and everyone was scattering. In spite of being startled, I did not feel threatened and continued my casual pace around the corner and left it all for others to deal with. No harm done. Upon walking up to the store, the first thing I saw was a transvestite chased down and tackled by security as he was accused of shoplifting. I walked past and entered the store. I will admit that after I was done shopping, I walked a little more briskly back to the hostel.

The next day I made my way back to the temple and after serving there, I got into a conversation with a lovely missionary couple, Brother and Sister Christiansen, whom I think were excited to have someone to speak to in English. Funny thing is that I had entered there with the question on my mind as to whether or not I should head up to this animal refuge/rehab location over in the Amazon. As I was chatting with them, another gentleman who used to be a tour guide came and began talking with me and he then gave me all of the info I needed to know on how to get to the pueblo where I needed to go and when to catch the bus and what hostel to stay in. To me, it was a clear answer that I should head out there.

The bus I caught, took me to a very touristy location called Banos de Aguas Santos.

I arrived at night so could not see my surroundings, but knew there were mountains in every direction due to the floating lights, or else I had a mass UFO sighting. It is a small pueblo with a very peaceful feel to it. As I walked the cobblestone streets I felt very relaxed. Whether false or not I did have a very real sense of security. In the morning I had breakfast on the roof where I was presented with the spectacular scene of a volcano on one side and waterfalls on other sides and low clouds covering the mountaintops. Green in all directions. It was breathtaking. The village is old-fashioned, but well kept and clean. It is apparently a hub for those that have an adventurous side. Anything from river rafting, to relaxing in the hot pots. My purpose, though some may think otherwise, is not to be entirely on vacation. So I boarded the next bus that would take me to an even tinier town just exiting the mountains called Mera. I found myself asking the people how to get to Merazonia, which is the name of the rescue/rehab facility. It seemed most did not know of it and I began to wonder, but then I found someone who guided me to a taxi service called Transmera where I boarded a pickup and we took a dirt road straight into the jungle and on the mountain side. After five mins of driving, we came to a decent sized river with a bridge. The driver said, “Here it is. Just cross that bridge.” So I paid him and thanked him and found myself alone in the Amazon.

I crossed the bridge and found two paths, one to the left and one to the right. I guessed right by choosing left and hiked for a ways when I came to a hexagonally shaped two story cabin.

For some reason I had several different fairy tales going through my head about cabins in the woods. In spite of those anticipations I called out “hello” and was greeted by the barking of three dogs. Luckily there was a fence. I thought for sure the nonstop barking would get the attention of someone, but after ten mins of waiting I concluded I was wrong.

At this point my doubts about going there in the first place started to build on themselves and I turned around and crossed the bridge with the intent of giving up on the whole idea. However, God has a way of taking control when we’ve done our part because as I reached the other side, Frank, the manager of the place just happened to be walking back from catching fish for the otter. He had a stunned look on his face.

It turns out my email had been placed in a strange folder and he had just barely found it and had no clue when it had been written or even by whom. Nonetheless, he was grateful I was there since they had just lost a few volunteers that couldn’t hack the “roughing it” lifestyle. Well, after all the confusion had settled, I met the current crew whom I will not really introduce you to in any detail, but merely tell you that each one of them are incredible persons with hearts as big as the oceans and a love and passion for life that is second to none. They are all true examples of selfless love and in the two weeks I was with them I learned tons about myself. They helped me to become aware of how I would like to improve and become more like them in so many ways. I will mention names, but without permission I will be discrete in any other info I release.

From England there was Marcus and Jenni who are volunteer coordinators, Colette who is one of the short-term volunteers, and Luisa who helps manage and takes care of the veterinary needs of the animals. Frank is from Holland and as I mentioned manages the place. Dee is from Ireland and is likewise one of the volunteer coordinators, Freddy from Germany and Manu from France are both short-term volunteers, Tanja from Switzerland, and Anthony and Tif from Louisiana are likewise short-term volunteers as was I. It was truly a pleasure getting to know and working with them.

For any of you who might be looking for an opportunity to work with wild animals, this is the opportunity of a lifetime to work with an organization that does what it’s supposed to according to its title.

Any facility that claims the title of refuge/rehab center should do just that, unfortunately all too many of them enjoy the money too much and design their centers as tourist attractions to bring in money, which is okay if they still do what they are supposed to, but unfortunately many will hang onto many of their big attractions with no real intent of releasing them back into the wild. This is a real problem throughout the world. Especially since most of these centers don’t have the facilities to make the enclosures spacious and beneficial to the animal’s health and comfort as you might find in a zoo. Rehab center enclosures are often somewhat smaller for better access and observation in order to prepare for release, which is the ultimate desire. I will tell you now Merazonia does exactly what it is supposed to and you will not see tourists. In fact they try to keep a minimal human contact for those animals nearing release.

So if you are wanting someplace where you can handle the animals all the time, look elsewhere. The work days are just that, work. We do the first rounds of cleaning cages and feeding at 7:30a.m., then we do chores to keep the place in healthy conditions for the people living there. For whatever hours we have left when we are done with that until 2p.m. we do projects which for me mostly consisted of building up several enclosures and making them safe for the animals and then we also built a new otter enclosure. At 3p.m. we do rounds again and are usually done by around 5 or 5:30p.m. This happens six days a week and on Sundays it’s the same minus the project hours. There is no electricity nor plumbing for toilets. So if you have a problem with that or with strange potentially dangerous insects and animals then go work at a zoo.

My experience was incredible. I came to truly love all of the animals, even when they didn’t seem to love me. Funny thing is that previous to going there, I had told myself I would never want to work with monkeys or birds and yet those are the primary animals you will find at this and other refuges. It was perfect because you never grow more, than when you have to deal with things you may not like. Who knows, your opinion may even change, as mine did. Not to mention even though I have never changed a diaper in my life, I’m pretty confident I’ve cleaned up more than enough excrements to consider myself ready for the mess. My heart goes out to all the CNAs and orderlies out there.

I got to work with capuchins, tamarins, woolly monkeys, and a howler. The birds consisted of orange wings, black headed parrots, blue headed parrots, parakeets, blue and gold macaws, and the green ones as well. Other animals consisted of a baby coati, an otter, kinkajous, a guatin, and there is a puma as well, but he is strictly only dealt with by a couple of people, so I never saw him. Almost all are native to the area and I even saw a troop of tamarins a couple of times as they tried to steal food. Other wild animals seen there consisted of a south American coral snake (yes it is potentially deadly), an equis which is another deadly viper, three other unidentified snakes, a 2 to 3 foot long bluish earthworm, and two of the others saw a jaguarundi, which is a wild cat. In addition to all of that, I saw at the very least, 2 new species of insects and spiders each day. All shapes, sizes, and colors including some that seem to be a chimera of creatures. I often wondered how often I walked right past creatures both deadly and nonlethal alike, without even knowing it.

The rainforest is an amazing place and I never tired of just sitting and staring into it. It’s much like staring into the eyes of one you love, the beauty is mesmerizing and I’d find myself lost in it with no desires to be found. The rain was frequent and as long as you are indoors it was soothing and relaxing, but it does have its drawbacks since it makes it 100% humidity and it is impossible to keep things dry. I washed my clothes on a Tues and by the following Sunday they were still not dry. Rubber boots are worn everywhere and even still I often found myself sinking thigh deep into mud thus eliminating the usefulness of the boots. Quicksand is a very real thing though I never saw any deep enough to swallow me. Sometimes the rain is hard enough that it doesn’t matter what rain gear you have, you will get wet.

One of the greatest accomplishments made during my time there was the completion of a new otter enclosure funded by the university in Quito. Sunday they brought the tv crew out there and filmed us moving Adam the otter to his new place. I wish you could have seen how happy he was. Adam is my favorite.


Otters are like the perfect mix of a dog, a cat, and a fish. So, it appears I will be on Ecuadoran television.

I left on Sunday evening and two days later, I find myself in Peru again. I am in the city of Trujillo for a couple of nights before I head down to Lima. I miss the jungle already. The only thing I do love about the desert here though is the sunsets, which is something you miss out on in the rainforest. I miss the peace. I miss how relaxed I always felt. Give me the dangers of the jungle and I will sleep more peacefully than ever.

I have never slept so well as I did the past two weeks, and my bed wasn’t even that comfortable. Some may be disturbed by the sounds in the rainforest at night, but to me they were a lullaby.

On a different note, I would say that I miss home, but I’m not sure where that is. I do miss my country and the luxuries that come from staying in one place.

While I was in Ferrenafe, I was flipping through the channels and saw a familiar dance performance and realized it was BYUTV and the piece was one my friend Lori performed in. Feelings certainly stirred inside me and I missed those I love. Then, two days ago in Ecuador while waiting for my bus I was watching tv in a little shop and the lady was watching some movie that was clearly made by locals in UT since it was cheaply made and was all in Provo and finished with a temple marriage… Seeing those mountains didn’t help either.

Well, my next target is Bolivia with a few stops along the way. I hope to be there by the latest, the last week of this month, but we’ll see.

Bioarchaeology

It has certainly been an interesting and extremely educational couple of weeks since the last time that I wrote. First of all, I made it to Chiclayo Peru safely. Unfortunately, my luggage did not follow me. In Guayaquil Ecuador, where I switched flights to fly down to Lima, my one piece of luggage was not transferred, most likely because I was the only person to switch flights, so my bag continued on to Quito Ecuador while I flew south.

Upon arrival in Lima I was held up in baggage claim for a couple of hours filing a lost luggage claim. Due to the fact that I had no permanent address or phone number to give them, things were not sorted as easily as they might otherwise have been. The claim people left me with a number to call when I found a hotel to stay in upon my arrival in Chiclayo. They advised that I call as soon as I had an address and phone number that I could give them. So I boarded my flight and flew back up north again to the city of Chiclayo.

I soon found a nice little hotel and I booked 3 nights with them in hopes that it would be sufficient time to have my bag returned to me. As soon as I checked in, I called the airline company. They told me what had happened with the bag and said it would be delivered the next day to my hotel. That was a bit of a relief, though I would not relax until my bag was in hand. I don’t know what I would have done had I not got it back.

The next day came and I called again. They told me the next fight that it could arrive on would be at 8 pm. The time came and went. Nothing. I decided to leave it until morning. In the morning my backpack was still missing.

By midday I decided to take things into my own hands and walked to the airport where I found everyone sitting on their backsides doing nothing. When I presented my problem, they casually walked off to another room and brought the bag out to me. I was rather distraught knowing that it had arrived the previous day and that they were far from being busy, yet appeared to care little about the fact that I was living without my stuff. Nonetheless, I truly was grateful to have my stuff in hand and to be able to get cleaned up and into different clothes. I had been in the same everything since Sat and it was now Tues afternoon. What good is a shower if you just put on dirt. What a bother.

Now let me describe my arrival to Chiclayo. Upon approach you could see that everything for miles in all directions was dry forest and desert. The city was as brown as the sand around the outskirts. As the plane stopped, I noticed that it was the only plane in the entire little airport. I also noticed that half of the airport seemed to be some sort of military airbase that shared the runways. There were hangers everywhere with nothing in them, and as I mentioned before, no other planes or jets or even military personnel. I assumed maybe the base was no longer in service. I found out later that it is an active airbase and there are apparently a couple of migs stationed there.

Anyway, they rolled the stairs up to the 737 and as I walked down them and across the tarmac I had my camera out and was filming. The next thing I knew I was getting yelled at to turn off the camera. Oops J. I guess they don’t like people filming their awesome military power.

The city of Chiclayo is fairly clean as cities in South America go. There is still a lot of trash and pollution, but not too bad. My first couple of experiences with the public seemed rather unfriendly. As I walked up on a crowd along a sidewalk and asked a guy what was going on, he looked at me like I was crazy and then mumbled something as he quickly moved away from me. Hmmm, strange.

I continued walking the streets and came to the Plaza de las Armas where I found a much larger crowd and saw that there was a flag ceremony going on with all of the military and police being all official. So I naturally wondered if this was a special day or if they did this every night? Well, I asked a guy, and once again I got the same look of disgust, but this guy didn’t even give me the satisfaction of a grunt. He just looked at me with this scowl on his face. I asked again, but rather then answer, he too turned and walked away. I was beginning to wonder if everyone here was rude to foreigners or if I was just the lucky one.

I have come to realize since then that it truly was dumb luck and the people are good and kind people for the most part.

One thing I do find interesting here is the huge lack of dogs. You will understand what I mean if you have been to any of these types of countries.

Anyway, on Tues., after my luggage arrived, I took a trip out to the Ferrenafe where the National Museum of Sican is located. There I met with Dr. Haagen Klaus, a bioarchaeologist and professor of anthropology and biology at Utah Valley University. After discussing a few things, he put me right to work for the next several hours at a desk freeing a human skull from the dirt and clay matrix that encased it. It is a delicate job and should only be done with a small stick and a brush. Strangely, I actually really enjoyed it.
It’s like a small discovery as you dig through the encasement and a human skull slowly comes into shape. I love detail work. I guess it’s the artist in me.

The next morning I showed up at 8 a.m. as I have every morning since and often earlier and worked primarily as a personal assistant to Dr. Klaus. We mostly examined boxes of unidentified bones and identified them as human or nonhuman along with what bone the piece pertained to. We would then analyze if there were any abnormalities or pathology that could be derived from what we saw.
It’s really quite fascinating and amazing the things you can decipher from human remains, even when they are hundreds of years old.

There are 5 other students in the lab and they have been out here in the field working with Dr. Klaus for the past month and a half. They are all great people and easy to get along with. They are also incredibly hard workers and much further along in this field than myself. This should not come as a surprise since this is what they are all pursuing as careers. My only saving grace is my knowledge of anatomy (which has increased immensely since working here), and my willingness to work hard, long days.

After dinner each night, Dr. Klaus and I would return to the lab and work an additional 2 or 3 hours longer. Thanks to my father, I have a very solid work ethic and am used to working long hours. One of the other main things I do with Dr. Klaus if measure dental biodistance, from which information we can derive a fairly accurate assessment of relation amongst the different burials. After getting done with all of the comingled remains we moved onto boxes containing mostly complete skeletal remains found in specific burials and analyzed them.

On my first Fri., Dr. Daniel Fairbanks, an Associate Dean in the science dept. at UVU, a book author, published geneticist, and a well-known artist arrived. His purpose in coming down was considerably different than ours. With the use of a device designed by, I believe he said Leonardo De Vinci, he was able to sculpt, with exactness, replicas of several of the skulls that have been excavated. Then, back in the States, he can sculpt muscles and skin onto them and thus recreate a likeness of what the person may have looked like when they were alive. This process is often used in forensics. I have seen some of his work and it is stunning what he can do. There are many museums in the area of northern Peru and I was blessed with the opportunity to accompany him and Dr. Klaus to several of them. He did skull replications for 4 of them. One of the replications will be indicative of one of the Lords of Sipan. It will be fascinating to see the results. The chance to rub shoulders and work side by side with these well known experts in their fields, along with several other well known archaeologists here in Peru is truly unprecedented and an opportunity that few will ever have. A blessing above and beyond my expectations.

For those of you who do not know, which I suspect is most of you, the Sican are a more ancient people than the Inkas by several hundreds of years. The Sican were first established sometime around 700 or 800 AD and were stronk until around 1100 or 1200 AD. The Inkas came a couple of hundred years later.

In the past two and a half weeks I have been to many museum backrooms and labs. I have seen artifacts that have been seen by few eyes and will most likely never be displayed for public viewing. I have had my own personal archaeologist as my tour guide through many museums and at many archaeological sites (An experience that I wish I could duplicate at all museums).

I have explored several massive pyramids in the area and have excavated human remains from burials at the bases of them. I participated in the excavation of the largest mass burial site of its kind, containing over 170 human skeletons so far, with the final count expected to be much higher. I have dug in 30 ft deep pits with scorpions and spiders along side me. I have been bitten by countless mosquitoes in very hot and humid weather. I have seen and experienced things that few will ever have or take the opportunity to live, but most importantly, I have fulfilled a childhood dream of being Indiana Jones.

Some videos

This is Mike's brother posting. These are some short videos Mike took on his trip to Iguazu falls, and a little bit of tango. We're still curious about the full story of finding the tango dancers and then "performing." I'm posting most of the videos and photos on Mike's blog, and the videos I've been converting from the full 1080 HD to a small mobile format for quicker uploads and viewing. The HD is much more impressive, especially of the falls.

-Chris

Mision Buenos Aires Oeste

I find myself typing this in an interesting location. I’m sitting in an airport in Guayaquil Ecuador because of a layover. I flew out of Buenos Aires this afternoon (Sat 2nd), and ended up here at 9:30 this evening. My flight at 7 a.m. will then take me back down to southern Peru where I will have a 5 hour layover in Lima from which I will catch my final flight back up to Northern Peru and arrive in Chiclayo tomorrow evening. I will have flown over my destination twice before finally landing on the third pass. Ridiculous.

So, the mission was incredible! Nearly three weeks of physically exhausting, frequently uncomfortable, and often mentally draining hard, hard work. I wouldn’t trade it for the world and in fact, I traded the world for it. If I were to share all of the spiritually saturated experiences I had in that short time, I would fill a good twenty pages. Instead, I will tickle your taste buds with a handful of special spiritually uplifting experiences to show a little about the life of a servant of the Lord. Before I do that, I will share a little about the incredible spiritual giants I was blessed with the privilege of serving alongside. First off, as you may know, my fulltime mission was in Guatemala years ago. So, I ask you, was it a coincidence that one of the two elders in the other companionship in our apt just happened to be the only Guatemalan in the mission? I think God knew I needed someone to translate the Argentine castellano into Guatemalan Spanish for me so I wouldn’t offend anyone ha ha. Elder Ponce is one of the most bold, courageous and faithful missionaries I’ve met, with a passion for the work and a smile that lights up a room. Elder Streadbeck, his companion, is only surpassed in physical height by his spirit and a heart big enough that the whole world could feel his love for them and he’d still have love to spare. He’s been in the field only a couple of months and already speaks Spanish better than many missionaries do after an entire mission! Now last, but most certainly not the least, is my own companion Elder Lopez. Elder Lopez is a half Mexican that didn’t speak any Spanish until the mission. No worries, he speaks it now, and quite well I might add. What can I say about the man who trained me? Elder Lopez was the District Leader and was an incredible example of not only obedience (which we all know I need. J), but he was the perfect example of a leader who demands no more than he himself is willing and capable of giving. A leader whom I saw on many occasion share a greater love for those elders under his stewardship than many people in places of higher authority. The care and concern he felt for those elders might only be surpassed by his faith in the promises God has made through His servants such as President Carter, the mission president. The man showed me everyday, unintentionally, how close he is to the Spirit by sharing scriptures perfect for each individual we spoke with. Truly, these are men of God and I found myself humbled in many instances to be in the presence of these and other soldiers of our Father in Heaven. Indeed, in a Zone Conference, the Spirit overwhelmed this body and I was left with only the ability to allow the tears to flow as they sang their title hymn of “Called To Serve”. What a blessing I was granted. Truly it was an unprecedented and a once in a lifetime opportunity.

My mission was filled with moments where in spite of my not knowing these people, the Lord used me as a mouthpiece to share just the right experiences with the people at just the right time and in many instances I was privileged to see the Spirit touch their hearts deeply, bringing many to tears. I can testify that the spirit of forgiveness worked in many hearts as we preached the gospel of repentance. I was granted the opportunity to witness young Fidel as he begins the lineage of the true followers of Christ in his immediate family by being baptized by his 17 year old cousin Alvaro who is the first in his immediate family to do the same! Awesome! We got Mary to come back to church after many years of inactivity and because of that, her daughters Mariana and Leila will soon be baptized! Incredible! Estela, a widow with her two daughters has committed to baptism in two weeks after having read the Book of Mormon faithfully and recognizing its divine nature! How cool is that?! Then we have Veronica who is only waiting to be married in order to be baptized! She already considers herself a member! The field is white my dear friends, just thrust in that sickle already!

I served in an area called Moreno. It primarily covered a very poor area with mostly dirt or rather muddy roads, since it either rained or was cloudy nearly every day I was there. We worked nonstop everyday, walking quickly to each house so as to help the greatest amount of people we could. Weekly we would speak to over 150 people in the streets and on the buses and trains. Fear of speaking to strangers is a luxury a missionary must live without. On more than one occasion we would speak to entire buses both cumulatively and then individually. My first week in the field I had a cold and my feet were covered in blisters that I kept finding for the next two weeks since my shoes didn’t fit nor were they designed for that. They, along with all of my missionary clothing were borrowed. This last week I also had stomach flu, but with all of these things, the work must always go on. When you know you have something so special that everyone needs, these are just petty annoyances.

Everyday a missionary wakes up at 6:30 am and begins his day with exercise until 7 and then food and getting cleaned up until 8.
Then he studies the scriptures, both modern and old to increase the Spirit’s ability to use him/her as a tool. From 9-10am the companionship studies together from the inspired manual Preach My Gospel so they can better understand how to deliver the messages properly and effectively to the anxiously awaiting ears. For the last half hour before hittin the dirt they study the language in order to make sure nothing will stand in the way of a clear communication of the Spirit to the hearts of those willing to accept. The faithful missionary then steps out into the field and speaks to every man, woman, and child of the truths that will bring salvation and pure happiness. He does this for the next 11 hours or so when they finally return home only to sit down for 30 minutes and plan how to be most efficient and effective in the following day and what the needs of each individual investigator are so that they can meet them and prepare them for the waters of baptism. Then, if you are like my comp, and have the task of being a District or Zone Leader, you spend whatever precious little time you have left til lights out, calling every missionary under your stewardship and making sure all is in order. Personal time…what’s that?

The chance to step into the field again with the experiences I’ve had, allowed me to hopefully reach some people who may have been more difficult to reach. At the very least, I pray I was more than just a companion. If no one else was changed or affected by my service, I certainly was and I thank my God frequently that I was able to meet and interact with such incredible members like Vanesa who helped us out day in and day out. She has only been a member for months, but the fire is so powerful inside her it is nearly impossible to avoid ignition. I thank her and many others for the example of what we all should be.

Well, I have written enough for now and must attempt to sleep in this airport. “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” John 14:27

Iguazu

It's been a crazy busy week and a half. The day after I arrived here in Buenos Aires, my parents were asked by the mission president to go out to the areas in the campo (country) and take a few things to the missionaries out there, as well as observe a new branch president out in one of the areas. So, the morning after my arrival we began our three-day trip into the campo. The first day was pretty incredible as we were able to stop at a zoo in the city of Lujan, which provides visitors with an opportunity to fulfill dreams, or at the very least, to fulfill some of my lifelong dreams! They said they were one of three (or five, I can't remember) zoos in the world that allow you to enter into the cages with, not just lion and tiger cubs, but with actual fully grown lions, tigers, and yes, even bears, oh my! As I entered the cages and walked up to those giant cats with their massive paws and huge heads, it was easy to understand why these are the masters of their domains. Then, as I was handed a bottle of milk and instructed to squirt the milk into my hand as the course tongue completely engulfed my hand when they lapped it up, it became all too easy to want to give into the temptation to wrap your arms around the beasts and just love'em to pieces! Unfortunately, if you were to give in to that temptation, you would probably be the one that ended up in pieces. One of the younger cubs was growling while I was petting him because they had just given him a piece of meat and he was a bit protective. I must admit, even for a little guy, it was intimidating, considering their paws are bigger than my hands. I was given the opportunity to feed some howler monkeys and was amazed at how soft the skin on their hands is. I would have guessed it might have been rough and callused from climbing around, but I apparently not. As awesome of an experience as it was, I couldn't help but wish that they all could've had more room since the enclosures were smaller than you might see at a typical zoo in the states, not that any of the animals know any better since they were all born and bread in captivity, but still.

The trip into the campo continued about 500km out to the outskirts of the mission. It was a beautiful ride.
The campo reminds me of driving through the central states of the US. Farmlands as far as the eye could see. No variance in elevation. The vast landscape was also riddled at times with marshes and wetlands with all sorts of different species of birds, the most exotic of which were the flamingos. It was a bit different to see them in the wild.

It's strange being surrounded by a language that is so familiar to me and yet so foreign at the same time. I find the words entering my ear almost like English, but as I attempt to formulate them, they seem to get lost somewhere between my mind and my tongue. It's coming back, but it is frustrating at times.

On Tues I took my first solo adventure into the big city by train and subway. I spent the afternoon wandering the city in hopes of finding the famed tango dancers. I wandered miles, and found some beautiful sights including the cemetery where Evita Peron is buried and a beautiful catholic cathedral along with a couple of basilicas. The port was gorgeous, filled with old-fashioned frigates and modern hydrofoils. The city, full of high-rises and skyscrapers was every bit as modern and civilized as any you might find in the US. The people are kind, for the most part, and while I enjoy being greeted with kisses and a huge from the lovely ladies, I must confess I was taken a little off guard the first time a guy did it to me. I'm pretty confident I will never get used to seeing or receiving that particular salutation from the guys. As I continued to wander, I saw their Casa Rosada (Pink House) and various other famous landmarks, but no tango dancers. So, before I gave up and headed back to the train I decided to walk down Avenida Florida one last time and see the beautiful shops. This time as I meandered I found various street performers including a band that was quite good, a couple of statue guys (people pretending to be statues), and some jugglers. Then, on my way back, I saw them! Tango dancers! The tango has always been one of my favorite dances and as I watched them perform, it was magical. I'm not sure if it was the music, or the dancing, or the combination this time that really got to me, but I truly felt the power of the emotions behind the movements as they danced...For a few moments...I really missed it all. Her...in my arms. Holding her close, body to body. Swaying and swirling the two become one. The intensity as I look into her eyes. The emotions of love, desire, and passion, if only for that brief moment, are as real as she is when she melts into my arms and lays her head on my chest. Now that, my friends, is dance. The ability to create emotions where none existed. The capability of igniting feelings that might have forever remained buried in ones heart. I felt the power that night and it stuck with me as I returned to the apt fulfilled. I got to see my tango and I wasn't disappointed.

On Wed. evening of this week, my parents and I boarded a nice double-decker bus and spent the next 18 hrs on it as we drove overnight up to Puerto Iguazu, a city on the border of Paraguay and Brazil. The landscape changed drastically from a somewhat temperate climate to being one of a subtropical nature. I began to feel a little more like I felt when I served my mission in Guatemala. We visited the national park of Iguazu Falls and it was indescribably incredible! We rode a boat right up underneath one of the falls and got soaked, but the highlights definitely included seeing some of the wildlife and walking through the rainforests.

The Garganta del Diablo was awe-inspiring at 50 meters taller than Niagra and the falls spanned such a vast length it was amazing and so beautiful. As I stood near the Garganta I felt the power of this, God's creation, and it was humbling. An interesting thing to note as we were crossing the river on a boat over to an island, there was a young lady we met, by the name of Mara. She is from Peru, but studied in Canada and is currently doing almost exactly what I'm doing. She has been out for 5 months already and expects the rest of her journey to take another 3 months or so. As much as I would never recommend for any female to do a trek like that alone, I commend her for living her dream and letting nothing stand in her way.

In closing, I leave you with a note that I will be beginning a mini mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the Buenos Aires West mission, Argentina, starting tomorrow and going for the next three weeks. I will still be logging my adventures. I don't know if I will have the opportunity to post them during that time, but I will do my best. I am a bit nervous about the whole thing. Things have changed a bit since I served my mission. I know that God will be with me. With Him by my side, I know I am up to the task, but it still has some interesting potentialities. As of tomorrow I will be Elder Cox...again.

I would like to share something to think about. Years ago when I first was called to serve a mission, the call was to serve in Buenos Aires, Argentina, not to Guatemala. Things happened, and choices were made that required me to wait many months before leaving on my mission. Due to the length of time of the wait, the call to Buenos Aires was changed and I was then called to Guatemala. Years have past since then. When I first returned from my mission, I had frequent dreams of being back on the mission and I would wake up in a panic only to find relief in the fact that it was only a dream. Slowly over the years the dreams remained similar, but my response to them upon awakening changed from a feeling of panic, to one of longing. This had persisted up until about three or four months ago when the dream came, but something was different. It didn’t feel right. In the dream it wasn’t my place. It was my mission, but it I felt like I didn’t belong there. In the dream I spoke with the mission president, who then told me that my mission lay elsewhere. When I awoke I laid in bed thinking about the meaning and my mind turned to this trip that I had been planning. I felt stronger than ever that I needed to come to these foreign lands and serve the people in whatever ways I could. I knew then, as I know now. I am where God needs me. I had no idea that when I would arrive here I would find the mission to be more than 30 missionaries short due to inability to obtain visas. Areas in this mission have been shut down. The president has tried to keep them open with mini missionaries, but some have to leave and he found himself short by one, and here I am. God’s hand in all things. That’s what it boils down to. I am here now, to fulfill my mission to Buenos Aires that I was called to those many years ago.

For pictures visit my Facebook page at: https://www.facebook.com/media/albums/?id=104255429694798