Wednesday, March 25, 2009

La Hoja De Coca...No Es Droga

Tuesday the 17th, cont´d.

INT. FILTHY CHINCHEROS HOTEL - DUSK

JAN SITS ON THE SIDE OF THE BED, BREATHING HARD FROM THE MOLD SMELL. RED BLOTCHES COVER HIS FACE. HE´S ITCHING HIS ARMS AND LEGS. HE HASN´T SHOWERED BECAUSE THE SHOWER LOOKS AS IF IT HASN´T TURNED ON IN A FEW DECADES. ANNA IS AT THE TABLE USING A POCKET KNIFE TO CUT BREAD BOUGHT THAT MORNING IN ANDAHUAYLAS. SHE PUTS IN BROWNING AVACADO AND SOME CHEESE AND HADS IT TO JAN, WHO SCARFS IT DOWN RAVENOUSLY. AFTER THE SANDWICH, ANNA PULLS OUT SOME WEED SHE GOT FROM AREQUIPA. IT LOOKS LIKE BEEF JERKEY THAT´S BEEN SPIT BACK UP BY BABY BIGFOOT. SHE PRODUCES A PIPE MADE OF BONE WITH A NUT SHELL ON THE END. AND PACKS THE BROWNED GOOP INTO IT.


Wednesday the 18th.

I didn´t think I would actually wake up. Anna said I was breathing really hard. The mildew smell was horrid and there were blood clots in my nose. Crap. We were still in some small town lost in the Andes with no food, water, gas or money. There was no bank at the town up the hill so we had to just press on. No showers. Only hunger. And the iPhone never made it out of that town either. Must have dropped somewhere? I could only imagine the people there holding it...then turning it on. Like the apes jumping around the giant rectangular stone. HAWHAWHAW.

We had no choice but to press on with fresh directions on how to get outta there towards Ayacucho. We were to go to a bridge, but waited for 1/2hr as there was road work being done every now and then. We follwed the river till we found the bridge and crossed it after waiting from some cows to make a path for us. Then we drove backa and forth through the dust and heat.

We had instruction that when we were given a choice, go left. That never came into play. We just headed up to the top of a mountain. It was great to be up there because the road straightened out more or less. There was a small town where we put 10soles of gas in the tank and prayed it would take us all the way. We rationed what bread and water we had. Real survival stuff. Chewed the coca leaves...no es droga!

There was a split in the road on top of the mountain. We stopped when we saw a mountain man digging a hole for some reason.

2 comments:

  1. Just ask yourself what bryan boitano would do?

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hey, it´s better than Central America, foo!

    ReplyDelete