cafe I´m in love

Back in Puno, we take a bicycle taxi to the Plaza. Though honestly, we could have walked faster. We buy bread and fruit for our night bus ride, and I find sunglasses to replace the ones I sat on. Though not large and round, these are super dark.

We go to the now-open Bistro/Crepeteria eat crepes (piña y chocolate), drink tea (manzanilla), and write in journals. It is here that I fall in love. With the cafe.

They are playing Achinoam Nini!! Noa!! An Israeli singer, who I love, whose album I own, who is rather famous in Israel and somwhat well-known amongst American Jews. THE PERUVIAN CAFE IS PLAYING NOA!!!

I am flipping my shit over this. I ask the waitress how they got the music, and she says the cook, who is French, has a large collection of music, and this is his CD. Small, connected world!

Noa is singing Boe Kalah, our Zimriyah song from last summer. I can´t stop smiling from the familiar. When you are in a foreign country, you immerse yourself in the food, the clothing, the history, the colors, the smells of the place. You try hard to understand the new way of life. You try to almost think like the Natives, to become more used to the enviroment. Anything familiar brings a sort of comfort. All of a sudden, you are jostled by your own memory. You remember that you come from a culture of your own. You, too, have a history. You, too, have your own food, your own clothing, your own colors and smells and sounds. For a few minutes, I feel like I am at home again, where I live a life of comfort and can pick out my own music.

Later, we Internet in some sketchy place. We take a night bus to Cuzco. We have to argue with Mr. Ticket Man for twenty minutes about bringing our packs on the bus. We absolutely do not want to put our stuff underneath the bus. Too many horror stories about missing or stolen luggage. MTM eventually sighs in surrender when we point to the bus next to us, in which a man is sitting with his suitcase at his feet.

Our Royal Class seats in the front of the balcony were everything they promised to be, and more. Fully reclining, full view of the road, quite cushy. The only notable event in the bus ride was when the bus hit a rock, and we had to stop for several minutes while the driver did who-knows-what. Also, it was FREEZING. Think of the coldest plane you have ever been on. This was probably not that cold, but still, it was at least CHILLY.

We arrive in Cuzco at dawn. After hostel jumping a few times, we find an OK one with amazing views of the plaza and the city. We get a triple for thirty sols. A triple!! Why settle for two beds when you can have three! I sleep, burrowed under several alpaca quilts, until eleven.