Monday, February 23, 2015

Lessons In Humility (Arequipa)

As unplanned as our trip has ever been, we chose last-minute to go to Arequipa because someone there had answered us on couch surfing. As soon as we set out to explore the town, we discovered that it had the most beautiful Centro and Plaza de Armas of all the cities we'd been to in Peru. The beautiful cathedral in the back, the palm trees, plants, birds and fountains in the square and the bright colors and colonial style buildings surrounding it all are the most beautiful little combination. We had lunch on a terrace overlooking the plaza and spent a full day walking around with a new friend we'met a few days before on a tour of a different city.

She knew everything there was to know about her city and we learned that this was because Arequipeños are very proud of their land and even go so far as to consider themselves almost separate from Peru. They have their own ways of speaking, their own clothing and colors, their own music and traditions and their own special history. We walked through the artisan streets and finally bought our alpaca sweaters we'd been joking about buying since forever. This was after a lot of bargaining though (mostly done by Andrea, a master who had perfected her skills in China).

We (mostly they since health is limiting my food adventures for now) tried typical Arequipan foods and desserts and I checked out the Arequipeñan salsa scene...obviously. It's a beautiful little town with wonderful people and gorgeous warm, summery weather.

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It IS as amazing as it sounds but it's not all quite as glamorous as it sounds...let's face it--we're traveling around places we've never been, eating foods our bodies aren't used to, moving every few days to new cities, doing new taxing activities or walking for miles every day and switching back and forth between different altitudes like normal people change clothes. Illness is inevitable.

I could leave at that but what fun would that be? Let me back up and explain. 'Getting sick while traveling' stories are always entertaining, right? I'd been shockingly healthy the first few weeks but an 18-hour bus ride from Lima to Arequipa put a swift end to that

At the beginning of the ride, we were warned on the loud speaker that bathrooms were for #1 business only and that anything else was considered an emergency that the bus would have to be stopped for. We were to press the button to call the attendants over and make a request if we were in need of such a service. We laughed at the shenanigans of it all and set out enjoying our long bus ride. We watched a few movies, talked & laughed some and then fell asleep.

We'd paid the extra few bucks for the wider, more reclining, comfortable seats, thinking that such a purchase would lead to a comfortable night's sleep...but we were oh so wrong.

The roads for some reason were never straight--they curved sharply back and forth non-stop the entire way. Beyond that, we were heading upwards altitude-wise and who knows what food, water or anything else had effected me. Bottom line, after swaying back and forth for hours which allowed me very little sleep, I started to realize just how nauseated I was feeling. For a long time, I tried to deny it and go back to sleep, I tried to breathe through it and I tried to focus on other things. In the end though, I knew I was going to lose one way or the other. I finally pressed the call button to ask the attendant to stop the bus.

She came and informed me that we could do so but only after we were off the curvy part of the road because you can't stop in the middle; she said we had about 10-15 minutes to go. I'm sure I was looking at her like I wanted to cry because I had already waited until what was the last minute for me to admit defeat and ask the bus to stop. She'd said it wasn't possible though so what else could I do?

In the meantime, poor Andrea sitting next to me had apparently started scheming. As I leaned back, trying to sit still and not lose it, she was putting her shoes on and figuring out her plan of action. Sure enough, within five minutes my body decided it'd had enough and never had anyone so quickly whipped the contents out of a plastic bag as Andrea in that moment; as I started a fun puking session, she handed me the grocery bag I'd been carrying half of my carry-on luggage in...and just in time.

Good times. Once I'd regained my strength, we had a nice laugh and I went to dispose of my little souvenir. When I walked out of our little cabin to get to the bathroom, the attendant I'd talked to was standing there on the little landing. I held up the bag like it was a trophy and told her, "Vomité." She felt bad because she didn't realize it'd been that much of an emergency but I told her not to worry because I honestly hadn't either. We had a laugh too and then she reached out to take the bag for me. I obviously wasn't going to let her do that so I held it back and opened the bathroom door to do it myself. I was pulling out the trash can to put it in when she told me something along the lines of, nah--just throw it out the window. And she was serious. So that's what I did. I dropped that little bag of goodies out the window as we sped down the curvy highway and went back to my seat.

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A couple of minutes later when I was back in my seat and feeling much better, Andrea and I enjoyed front row seats of the Lizzy-Trying-To-Get-Out-Of-Her-Seat-Without-Waking-The-Guy-Between-Her-And-The-Aisle Show. It was a comedy and boy, was it good!

Lizzy, in her quiet way, said nothing as she half-stood up and eyed her challenge. Her face said everything. It was clear where she wanted to go but not how she would get there (unless she just woke the guy up and asked him to let her by). We saw the puzzled look on her face but she stayed calm and she prepared her body for the challenge. She ended up standing somewhat on her own seat, leaning over the sleeping beauty and reaching across the aisle to somehow stabilize herself with a pole or something from the seat across the aisle. She got ready to move and started to shift her weight toward the aisle.

Now, had we been in, perhaps, a movie theater, this would've worked. But we were on a bus...that was moving...fast...on crazy, curvy roads. As soon as she'd started to shift her weight, the bus lurched just enough to send her crashing into the seat across the aisle. I don't know if it was the noise or if/where there was contact but both the guy she climbed over and the guy whose seat she was stabilizing herself with woke up from the events and seemed somewhat amused, though not nearly as much as Lizzy, Andrea and I. Between me tossing my cookies and Lizzy's graceless fall into the aisle, we'd given new meaning to the term "hot mess." Just a few more hours though and we were finally in Arequipa.

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While there, we decided to do a two-day trek through Colca Canyon, apparently the second deepest canyon in the world. It used to be a volcano but now is a beautiful landscape of mountains with natural plants and lagoons and even a few very tiny towns inside.

To get there, we had to leave home at 3 am to catch to our 4:00 bus ride. Needless to say, we didn't really sleep that night. Unfortunately I couldn't sleep on the bus either but it turned out to be a pretty great issue to have because I got to watch the sun rise over the most beautiful Peruvian landscape as we drove. We made a stop on the way to look for Andean Condors, the second largest birds in the world. Our guide taught us a bit about them and we saw a couple but from very far away. After that, Andrea, Lizzy & I(who had booked a separate tour than the rest of the people on our bus)  were ushered back into our bus and driven another 15 or so minutes away. Suddenly our van slowed down and the guides told us to go ahead and get out. We were on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere and the only signs of life we saw around were two old guys selling water out of a tiny little cart. The guides said our guide for the trek would be along within the next 20 minutes and to stay right where we were. They drove off and the three of us decided to find a bathroom....which meant a big slab of wood we could stand behind so the old guys couldn't see us. That's not usually my style but hey, that's what life's all about, right? Stepping out of our comfort zones!

Before we were even finished, the next van did come along but it only dropped off a group of travelers just like us. Four or so more vans came and did the same thing after that. It looked like it was turning into a guide-less tourist dump there for a minute but eventually the guides all showed up and split us off into our groups so we could begin the trek.

We had about 12 or so people in our group and they were all AWESOME! We had people from Spain, France, Belgium, Holland, Mexico and Peru. I had the best time getting to know all these awesome people who were all from such different places and doing such different but wonderful things with their lives. Day One's trek was 18 km and the scenery was absolutely beautiful! There's nothing like exploring the world, staring in awe at such natural beauty, speaking and listening to beautiful languages and sharing these amazing experience with people you've just met yet feel like they've been your friends for years.

The trek was tiring, of course, but it was amazing! We finally made it to our beautiful hostel just before the sun went down but we were (pleasantly?) surprised that our hostel had no electricity and no hot water. We rushed to get our cold showers before it got any darker or colder and then went to have dinner together. By the time we'd come down the mountain, I'started to feel like crap again and it was starting to feel like more than just stomach issues.

It seemed to be altitude issues again and, let me tell you, that crap is no joke. Our guide brought this weird oil thing and put it on my wrists and forehead and rubbed it in his hands and made me inhale it. I think it did help a little but I don't even know what it was.

I shared a room with a lovely girl from Lima and had a great time talking with her before we went to bed. We also stayed outside to look at the stars for a while and it was impressive. Never have I been able to see that many stars in my life. There are no words to describe the view of the universe from inside a canyon with no electricity. I only stayed out for a total of maybe three minutes (still wasn't feeling well) but in that short time, I saw the only shooting star I've ever seen in my life (made me think of you, Erin).

The next morning I woke up feeling even worse than the night before and I knew I had three choices: trek the 5k straight up and out of the canyon like I was supposed to, get lazy and pay $25 to ride a mule up, or try to convince my friends to spend another day in the hostel so I could recuperate and kick the canyon's butt the next day. I decided to go with the first (which was probably also the worst) idea.

We began walking but it didn't take long for me to feel really awful. Everyone else was stripping down to tank tops and getting faster while I was shivering, hiding in my coat and four layers of shirts and getting slower by the minute. I knew the trek was way shorter than the day before so I assumed it'd be over before I knew it. That wasn't exactly the case.

What did happen before I knew it was that I started feel really sick and Andrea was the only reason I was able to move at all. Everyone except a girl who'd been sick the day before and Andrea had disappeared. Andrea (who felt perfectly healthy and could've been up with the rest of the group, socializing and having fun with all our new friends) had stayed back without ever considering going ahead without me.

The trek, although the level of difficulty wasn't actually increasing, was getting tougher for me with every step because my body was extremely low on energy. I hadn't really been able to eat much since that fun bus ride to Arequipa and I seemed to have gotten a cold or something as well. I doubt any of that would've been too big of a deal had I not attempted to trek a canyon but it was too late to go back.

Andrea, who was carrying her own bag, offered to carry mine for me which was ridiculous because obviously I should be carrying my own. I was never going to give it to her no matter how sick I felt but she took the initiative to snap the clasps off and take it without my consent, just to make it a little easier for me.

I know it made her load a lot heavier because it made it much easier for me to walk. Beyond that, every time I got really dizzy, she was right there, literally holding me up. She was nothing but encouraging and positive the entire time, even though I was walking about 1/4 the pace she would've otherwise been walking.

As shitty as felt and as many times as I wondered how I was going to make it, it was one of the most beautiful things I've ever experienced. The times that I needed to stop and sit to regain breath and energy, Andrea would wait with me patiently and I'd finally be able to look around (not an option when you feel dizzy and are walking along the cliff of a canyon). I was in one of the most beautiful places I'd ever been and blessed to be with one of the most beautiful souls I've ever met. As sick as I felt, it was an experience that I wouldn't trade for anything. It was a testament to the raw beauty of both people and nature.

When we finally made it to the top, I felt the weakest I had all day and, as much as I hate crying, especially when other people are around, tears came out...tears of weakness, relief and gratitude. I sat a rock and didn't move again until they made me but everyone in the group came to make sure I was alright. Some gave me hugs, some offered me food and water, some took my bags to carry the rest of the way, some talked to me, some congratulated me and they all supported me. Such beautiful people.

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As much of an appreciation I'd gained that day for life, beauty and friendship, an even more tangible lesson was on its way. Andrea and I were telling this story two days later in our hostel to our new friends (an awesome couple from Croatia and Bosnia who are traveling the world together) and Andrea started to talk about how I had made her feel bad while we were climbing up the mountain.

That day, as I struggled up the mountain like a hung-over turtle, Andrea would every once in a while yell out loud something along the lines of "Come on, Shannon! You can do it! Woooooo hoo!" and I would laugh a little and muster up the breath to say something along the lines of "Omg shut up. You're making me feel even more pathetic!"

I intended it to be in a joking manner but I don't think I had enough air or energy to convey that sort of attitude. At the same time, though, I meant it. I don't know about other people but I assume most others are the same as me in that I'd rather be the first person or the one hanging back helping someone than the last person or the person needing help. If I'm coming in last in a race or failing in something, the last thing I want is attention for it.

Hilariously enough, as Andrea stared telling this story, our friends looked at each other and burst out laughing because they'd gone through the same thing that morning. They'd been on a bike trip and, at the toughest part, she started to struggle a bit. He had already made it through the tough part and yelled something back to cheer her on to which she replied that he should shut up.

We all sat there laughing, she and I completely agreeing while he and Andrea did the same. "I guess humans don't like to feel weak," someone said. And it's true. I know it's true for me. That's the same reason I don't like crying in front of people or being the worst at something. But that's not what was important there. We're all weak sometimes...sometimes we need help and, when we don't, we're there to help others. On Day One of the trek, Lizzy was having knee problems so I stayed back to walk with her while the others went ahead. The very next day, I was the one that needed help.

It's our turn to be the strongest and the weakest at different points in our lives and we don't need to be embarrassed about it. I told Andrea to be quiet because I was embarrassed. Whether I was joking or not, Andrea was only acting out of love and I had no reason to say anything other than thank you.

Thank you, Colca Canyon, for slapping me upside the head with a lesson in humility because I needed it. Thank you, Andrea, for keeping me from falling off a cliff in the second-deepest canyon in the world. I doubt I can pay either one of you back but I'll try to pay it all forward.

On Fri, Nov 28, 2014 at 5:15 AM, Shannon O'Brien <shannonobrien4@gmail.com> wrote:
D

A Lesson In Humility

As unplanned as our trip has ever been, we chose last-minute to go to Arequipa because someone there had answered us on couch surfing. As soon as we set out to explore the town, we discovered that it had the most beautiful Centro and Plaza de Armas of all the cities we'd been to in Peru. The beautiful cathedral in the back, the palm trees, plants, birds and fountains in the square and the bright colors and colonial style buildings surrounding it all are the most beautiful little combination. We had lunch on a terrace overlooking the plaza and spent a full day walking around with a new friend we'd met a few days before on a tour of a different city.

She knew everything there was to know about her city and we learned that this was because Arequipeños are very proud of their land and even go so far as to consider themselves almost separate from Peru. They have their own ways of speaking, their own clothing and colors, their own music and traditions and their own special history. We walked through the artisan streets and finally bought our alpaca sweaters we'd been joking about buying since forever. This was after a lot of bargaining though (mostly done by Andrea, a master who perfected her skills in China).

We (mostly they since health is limiting my food adventures for now) tried typical Arequipan foods and desserts and I checked out the Arequipan salsa scene...obviously. It's a beautiful little town with wonderful people and gorgeous warm, summery weather.

It IS as amazing as it sounds but it's not all quite as glamorous as it sounds...let's face it--we're traveling around places we've never been, eating foods our bodies aren't used to, moving every few days to new cities, doing new taxing activities or walking for miles every day and switching back and forth between different altitudes like normal people change clothes. Illness is inevitable.

I could leave at that but what fun would that be? Let me back up and explain that. Sick traveling stories are always entertaining, right? I'd been shockingly healthy the first few weeks but an 18 hour bus ride from Lima to Arequipa put a swift end to that.

At the beginning of the ride, we were warned on the loud speaker that bathrooms were for #1 business only and that anything else was considered an emergency and that the bus would have to be stopped for it. We were to press the button to call the attendants over and make a request if we were in need of such a service. We laughed at the shenanigans of it all and set out enjoying our long bus ride. We watched a few movies, talked & laughed some and then fell asleep.

We'd paid the extra few bucks for the wider, more reclining, comfortable seats, thinking that such a purchase would lead to a comfortable night's sleep...but we were oh so wrong.

The roads for some reason were never straight--they curved sharply back and forth non-stop the entire way. Beyond that, we were heading upwards altitude-wise and who knows what food, water or anything else had effected me. Bottom line, after swaying back and forth for hours which allowed me very little sleep, I started to realize just how nauseated I was feeling. For a long time, I tried to deny it and go back to sleep, I tried to breathe through it and I tried to focus on other things. In the end though, I knew I was going to lose one way or the other. I finally pressed the call button to ask the attendant to stop the bus.

She came and informed me that we could do so but only after we were off the curvy part of the road because you can't stop in the middle; she said we had about 10-15 minutes to go. I know I was looking at her like I wanted to cry because I had already waited until what was the minute to admit defeat and ask the bus to stop. She'd said it wasn't possible though so what else could I do?

In the meantime, poor Andrea sitting next to me had apparently started scheming. As I laid there trying not to die, she was putting her shoes on and figuring out her plan of action. Sure enough, within five minutes my body decided it'd had enough and never had anyone so quickly whipped the contents out of a plastic bag as Andrea when she handed me the grocery bag I'd been carrying half of my carry-on luggage in.

Good times. Once I'd regained my strength, we had a nice laugh and I went to dispose of my little souvenir. When I walked out of our little cabin to get to the bathroom, the attendant I'd talked to was standing there on the little landing. I held up the bag like it was a trophy and told her, "Vomité." She felt bad because she didn't realize it'd been that much of an emergency but I told her not to worry because I honestly hadn't either. We had a laugh too and then she reached out to take the bag for me. I obviously wasn't going to let her do that so I held it back and opened the bathroom door to do it myself. I was pulling out the trash can to put it in when she told me something along the lines of, nah--just throw it out the window. And she was serious...so that's what I did. I dropped that little bag of goodies out the window as we sped down the curvy highway and went back to my seat.

A couple of minutes later when I was back in my seat and feeling much better, Andrea and I enjoyed front row seats of the Lizzy-Trying-To-Get-Out-Of-Her-Seat-Without-Waking-The-Guy-Between-Her-And-The-Aisle Show. It was a comedy and boy, was it good!

Lizzy, in her quiet way, said nothing as she half-stood up and eyed her challenge. Her face said everything. It was clear where she wanted to go but not how she would get there unless she just woke the guy up and asked him to let her by. We saw the puzzled look on her face but she stayed calm and she prepared her body for the challenge. She ended up standing somewhat on her own seat, leaning over the sleeping beauty and reaching across the aisle to somehow stabilize herself with a pole or something from the seat across the aisle. She got ready to move and started to shift her weight toward the aisle.

Now, had we been in, perhaps, a movie theater, this would've worked. But we were on a bus...that was moving...fast...on crazy, curvy roads. As soon as she'd started to shift her weight, the bus lurched just enough to send her crashing into the seat across the aisle. I don't know if it was the noise or if/where there was contact but both the guy she climbed over and the guy whose seat she was stabilizing herself with woke up from the events and seemed somewhat amused, though not nearly as much as Lizzy, Andrea and I. Between me tossing my cookies and Lizzy's graceless fall into the aisle, we'd given new meaning to the term "hot mess." Just a few more hours though and we were finally in Arequipa.

While there, we decided to do a two-day trek through Colca Canyon, apparently the second deepest canyon in the world. It used to be a volcano but now is a beautiful landscape of mountains with natural plants and lagoons and even a few very tiny towns inside.

To get there, we had to leave home at 3 am to get to our 4:00 bus ride. Needless to say, we didn't really sleep that night. Unfortunately I couldn't sleep on the bus either but it turned out to be a pretty great issue to have because I got to watch the sun rise over the most beautiful Peruvian landscape as we drove. We made a stop on the way to look for Andrean Condors, the second largest birds in the world. Our guide taught us all about them and we saw a couple but from very far away. After that, Andrea, Lizzy & I were ushered back into our bus and driven another 15 or so minutes away. Suddenly our van slowed down and the guides told us to go ahead and get out. We were on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere and the only signs of life we saw around were two old guys selling water out of a tiny little cart. The guides said our guide for the trek would be along within the next 20 minutes and to stay right where we were. They drove off and the three of us decided to find a bathroom....which meant a big slab of wood we could stand behind so the old guys couldn't see us. That's not usually my style but hey that's what life's all about, right? Stepping out of our comfort zones!

Before we were even finished, the next van did come along but it only dropped off a group of travelers just like us. Four or so more vans came and did the same thing after that. It looked like it was turning into a guide-less tourist dump there for a minute but eventually the guides all showed up and split us off into our groups so we could begin the trek.

We had about 12 or so people in our group and they were all AWESOME! We had people from Spain, France, Belgium, Holland, Mexico and Peru. I had the best time getting to know all these awesome people who were all from such different places and doing such different but wonderful things with their lives. Day one's trek was 18 km and the scenery was absolutely beautiful! There's nothing like exploring the world, staring in awe at such natural beauty, speaking and listening to beautiful languages and sharing these amazing experience with people you've just met yet feel like they've been your friends for years.

The trek was tiring, of course, but it was amazing! We finally made it to our beautiful hostel just before the sun went down but we were (pleasantly?) surprised that our hostel had no electricity and no hot water. We rushed to get our cold showers before it got any darker or colder and then went to have dinner together. By the time we'd come down the mountain, I'd started to feel like crap again and it was started to feel like more than just stomach issues.

We assumed it was altitude issues again and-let me tel you-that crap is no joke. Our guide brought this weird oil thing and put it on my wrists and forehead and rubbed it in his hands and made me inhale it. I think it did help a little but I don't even know what it was.

I shared a room with a lovely girl from Lima and had a great time talking with her before we went to bed. We also stayed outside to look at the stars for a while and it was impressive. Never have I been able to see that many stars in my life. Being inside a canyon with no electricity really does and there are no words to describe how amazing it was. I didn't feel good so I only stayed out for a total of maybe three minutes but in that time I saw the only shooting star I've ever seen in my life (made me think of you, Erin).

The next morning I woke up feeling even worse than the night before and I knew I had three choices: trek the 5k straight up and out of the canyon like I was supposed to, get lazy and pay $25 to ride a mule up, or try to convince my friends to spend another day in the hostel so I could recuperate and kick the canyon's butt the next day. I decided to go with the first, which was probably also the worst, idea.

We began walking but it didn't take long for me to feel really awful. Everyone else was stripping down to tank tops and getting faster while I was shivering, hiding in my coat and four layers of shirts and getting slower by the minute. I knew the trek was way shorter than the day before so I assumed it'd be over before I knew it. That wasn't exactly the case.

What did happen before I knew it was that I was feeling really sick and that Andrea was the only reason I was able to move at all. Everyone else except a girl who'd been sick the day before and Andrea had disappeared. Andrea who felt perfectly healthy and could've been up with the rest of the group, socializing and having fun with all our new friends had stayed back with me without ever considering going ahead without me.

The trek, although the level wasn't actually changing, was getting tougher for me as we went because my body was extremely low on energy. I hadn't really been able to eat much since that fun bus ride to Arequipa and I seemed to have gotten a cold or something as well. None of that probably wouldn't been a big deal had I not attempted to trek a canyon but that's what was happening.

Andrea, who was carrying her own bag, offered to carry mine for me which was ridiculous because obviously I should be carrying my own. I was never going to give it to her no matter how bad I felt but she took the initiative to snap the clasps off and take it without my consent, just to make it a little easier for me.

I know it made her load a lot heavier because it made it much easier for me to walk. Beyond that, every time I got really dizzy, she was right there, literally holding me up. She was nothing but encouraging and positive the entire time, even though I was walking about 1/4 the pace she would've otherwise been walking.

As shitty as felt and as many times as I wondered how I was going to make it, it was one of the most beautiful things I've ever experienced. The times that I needed to stop and sit to regain breath and energy, Andrea would wait with me patiently and I'd finally be able to look around (not an option when you feel dizzy and are walking along the cliff of a canyon). I was in one of the most beautiful places I'd ever been and blessed to be with one of the most beautiful souls I've ever met. As sick as I felt, it was an experience that I wouldn't trade for anything. It was a testament to the natural beauty of both people and nature.

When we finally made it to the top, I felt the weakest I had all day and, as much as I hate crying, especially when other people are around, tears came out...tears of weakness, relief and gratitude. I sat a rock and didn't move again until they made me but everyone in the group came to make sure I was alright. Some gave me hugs, some offered me food and water, some took my bags to carry the rest of the way, some talked to me, some congratulated me and they all supported me. Such beautiful people.

As much of an appreciation I'd gained that day for life, beauty and friendship, an even more tangible lesson was on its way. Andrea and I were telling this story two days later in our hostel to our new friends-an awesome couple from Croatia and Bosnia who are traveling the world together-and Andrea started to talk about how I had made her feel bad while we were climbing up the mountain.

As I struggled up the mountain like a hung-over turtle, Andrea would every once in a while yell out loud something along the lines of "Come on, Shannon! You can do it! Woooooo hoo!" and I would laugh a little and muster up the breath to say something along the lines of "Omg shut up. You're making me feel even more pathetic!"

I intended it to be in a joking manner but I don't think I had enough air or energy to convey that sort of attitude. I did mean it, though. I don't know about other people but I assume most others are the same as me in that I'd rather be the first person or the one hanging back helping someone than the last person and the person needed help. Coming in last in a race or failing in something, the last thing I want is attention for it.

Hilariously enough, as Andrea stared telling this story, our friends looked at each other and burst out laughing because they'd gone through the same thing that morning. They'd been on a bike trip and when part of it got tough, she struggled a bit. He had made it through the tough part and yelled something to cheer her up to which she replied that he should shut up.

We all sat there laughing, she and I completely agreeing while he and Andrea did the same. "I guess humans don't like to feel weak," someone said. And it's true. I know it's the for me. That's the same reason I don't like crying in front of people or being the worst at something. But that's not what was important there. We're all weak sometimes...sometimes we need help and sometimes we're the strong one being there for others as I had been on Day One of the trek when Lizzy's knees were hurting and I stayed back with her while the others went ahead.

It's our turn to be the strongest and the weakest at different points in our lives and we don't need to be embarrassed about it. I told Andrea to be quiet and it didn't matter if I was joking or not because Andrea was only doing what she was out of love and I had no reason to say anything other than thank you.

Thank you, Colca Canyon, for slapping me upside the head with a lesson in humility because I needed it. Thank you, Andrea, for keeping me from falling off a cliff in the second-deepest canyon in the world. I doubt I can pay either one of you back but I'll try to pay it all forward.

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