Pretty intense jump from chilly mountains to warm beach…
This is half-baked, but it’s fresh. Something compels me to get this down before it fades into memory.
Perú is a fantastic place, and I intend to return there as a dedicated tourist. My current situation is hybrid; I have a day job which I take seriously, but this job allows me a certain amount of bandwidth to explore the world (and escape miserable NYC winters) so I might as well take advantage of it.
Perú, a country bigger than Alaska and California combined and even more geologically diverse, impressed me and challenged me. I only saw a tiny little bit of it, just a few days in Lima and a couple weeks in Cuzco. Either place deserves a full-spectrum experience. Cuzco (aka “Cusco”), was especially other-worldly, though Lima was a highly enticing tease since it’s such a massive city with so much happening. The little bit I tasted, I liked a lot. Felt like a place worth spending a year or more. Lima felt comfortable, like a place where I could easily make friends and music.
Cuzco was a totally different story. Like most places in the world that survive on tourism, a cold distance, a cultural void spanning galaxies , made me feel welcome-not-welcome. Oddly, I did connect with a few locals and even met a friend who makes me want to go back. But I could never live there; too damn cold, too far away from “home,” wherever that is.
Even with a constant sense of not belonging, lingering discomfort from the altitude and cold, I developed a deep respect for the culture and power of the place. The “fashion scene” absolutely blew me away. Baby alpaca wool is the finest fabric in the world, and the clothing produced from it is exquisite. By accident, I ended up learning something about how they produce it. A quechua woman demonstrated with her own hands how they color it with natural plants that grow, impossibly, at 3000+ meters above sea level. Those colors are sublime and unique and muy hermoso.
The experience of “seeing how it’s done” drove home what I was talking about in the very first post of this version of this blog: No Logo. Quality speaks for itself. The beautiful clothing of Cuzco, with its unique, inimitable style, locally designed and sourced, locally produced, locally sold (at premium prices), is as fine as any apparel in the world. As a matter of fact, I would say that Cuzco is a fashion capital as much as Paris, New York, or Milan… more so, in fact.
A Gucci label doesn’t say “quality” to me; it says “Insecure sucker who will overpay for mediocrity.” What says “quality” to me is something else. Is it beautiful? Is it natural? Does it serve its purpose (making the wearer both lovely and warm)? Is it unique? Does the soul of its creator live on through the work?
Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes? OK, it’s cool. It’s stylish. It’s quality.
Cuzco was full of that, and I haven’t even gotten started on the ruins and other-worldly sense of civilization. In fact, I’m only going to touch on that; you can visibly see civilization being built on top of civilization for millennia in that place, in real time, in real life. The Inca told the Spanish (and this is documented) that they had built on top of an older, more advanced civilization, just as the Spanish eventually did to the Inca. To this day, nobody knows how the original stone work was done, upon which the cathedrals and elegant, non-corporate-chain hotels (and even the less classy corporate ones, the JW Marriott and whatever) were built. You can still see that stone work right in the center of town. You don’t even need to follow the tourist hordes to Machu Picchu.
If you want to ride a horse or hike a bit, you can even see what Machu Picchu looked like before it was excavated. It’s mind-blowing. One gets the sense that once upon a time, a much bigger city existed there in the uninhabited heights.
Even with this sense of wonder, every second I spent in Cuzco, I felt a bit out of place, a bit uncomfortable, except in bed where I slept wonderfully in the cool of night, soothed by the warm embrace of heavy natural bedding.
Let’s skip to the chase, returning to El Salvador…
It was a stressful journey. I won’t bore you with the details. I traveled off the beaten path a bit, making a direct beeline from the mountainous chill and light air to the hottest place I’ve ever been, right at sea level: El Salvador.
As I write this, I’m about 10 feet above the crashing waves, in a bungalow on a cliff rooted in the beach, a cliff that will eventually succumb to the waves and become beach. It’s warm. It was hot this afternoon.
And, goddamn, it feels good!
If you’ve been following this blog, you know that my travel in Perú — wonderful and worthwhile as it was — was fraught with stress and peril. El Salvador is a totally different experience. They don’t fingerprint me on my way in (and OUT ?!?) of the country. My accommodations were graciously prepared (and I haven’t even paid for them yet, though I will, of course). The locals are warm and welcoming. I don’t have to put on shoes and socks, let alone a coat and hat.
It feels so good to be barefoot again, roasting in the sun, calmed by the rolling waves. I feel so clean, having spent some time frolicking in the salty sea. My neighbors are friendly. Oh, and I can breathe. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if I’ve already lost weight; exercise at 3100m above sea level is… burdensome.
Yeah, I’m more of a beach bum than a mountain boy, for sure. Just 24 hours ago I was gasping for breath, chasing down my ride to the airport. Now I’m chillin’ like Bob Dylan, enjoying the mating calls of geckos as a percussive enhancement to the infinite melody of waves, warm and happy as a clam. Another day, another timeline jump…
It’s not just the warmth and thick, oxygenated air that I like about El Salvador; it’s the sense of participating in history.
Not sure if I’ve mentioned that one of the more uncomfortable moments in Perú was having a cajero gobble up — for no apparent reason — my suitably funded Fidelity debit card. By the way, if you’re traveling internationally, I recommend getting that card as it waives all ATM fees and foreign transaction charges. Of course I had a backup debit card from my shitty (hint) bank. The magnetic strip on that old card had given out. It worked as tap-to-pay but wouldn’t give me cash. That kind of sucked, not having access to cash.
Since I’ll be here for the next several weeks, I thought, “Well, I’ll have Fidelity send me a replacement card.”
Then I went to the supermarket, and the moment of epiphany hit. A big, modern supermarket had a sign on the checkout line, “Aquí puede pargar con Bitcoin.”
As it turns out, I have a bit of Bitcoin dust in a wallet on my phone. I put a couple hundred bucks worth there a few years ago as an emergency measure. Turns out, it’s… uh… more than a couple hundred bucks now. I thought, “What the heck, let’s see how this works.”
It was so easy. It was so quick. It didn’t involve any bank or intermediary, just me paying the store directly, as if with cash.
At some point I realized that they have Bitcoin ATMs here. I can just get some cash with my phone, directly, without need for a bank. Suffice to say, I will wait until I return to ‘Mairka to get a replacement for the inexplicably devoured Fidelity debit card. Bitcoin works here, and I have a bit, as it turns out.
That got me thinking about Bukele and El Salvador (“The Savior”). It wouldn’t surprise me if El Salvador ended up being the Singapore of the Americas. It’s a very similar situation.
If you look at Singapore today, you would never believe that just 75 years ago it was a poor, crime-ridden backwater. Now it is a clean, modern, multi-cultural powerhouse, a great innovator in finance, a beacon of prosperity.
Why? Lee Kwon Yoo. He cleaned up the crime, made bold moves in terms of commercial/financial innovation, and turned Singapore into what it is today. He was called a despot and a dictator by The New York Slimes and all the usual suspects, but the proof’s in the puddin’, darlin’. Results speak for themselves, not unlike quality.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not talking about cosmetics, here. I hope that El Salvador doesn’t go so far as making chewing gum illegal.
There is a lot of hope here, and if Bukele plays his cards right, El Salvador could become a small-but-mighty beacon of prosperity in the Americas, as is Singapore to our eastern counterparts.
I know that el Presidente has more important things to do than read this blog, but if I were to advise Bukele, I would say the key is in education and continued innovation. Of course the bankers will apply pressure to kill Bitcoin and other substantial financial evolution. Play their game a little bit but not too much. Most importantly, invest in education. A small country’s greatest resource is its people.
There are plenty of folks like me who share a vision of peace and prosperity, a lot more of us than there are of “them,” the criminal parasites who once had their boots on the neck of the little nation in which I currently find myself.
OK. That’s enough. I’m tired of staring at this screen. Time to watch the full moon rise and enjoy the splendor of nature.
I really love El Salvador and wish the greatest success upon her and the world, and I hope to return to Perú one day as a full-time tourist.
Peace,
Chuck
