Yesterday we finished the Choro trail. We set off around 9am or a bit after and were set on finishing by that evening (friday). I was worried that our pace would not allow us to meet our goal of arriving in Coroico the night before class starts but as a team we pulled it off. We exited our campsite, "Buena vista" and rounded a couple of hillsides, traveling straight downward or upward via switchbacks the entire time. The views were unreal and I loved how unpredictable the terrain was. At one point there was an uphill section that was rather long and strenuous, I felt strong and that strength has motivated me since the feeling initally hit me mid-day yesterday. I loved the way my body felt all the way to the end of the trek. It hurt but I had control and nothing beats self-inspiration.
I loved resting at each checkpoint, but the Japenese man's property was probably my favorite. I drank a cocacola, and we got to catch a glimpse of the Japanese man briefly. The story is fascinating. He took refuge in Bolivia during WWII and has stayed up in the hills along the Choro trail every since. He only presented himself for a quick moment. He limped down his stone path that ran next to his garden and placed a book for us to register in on the picknick table we were sitting at in the shade. We all sat contently, eating some quinoa offered to us by some Chilean hikers and signed our names, country of origin, age and occupation.
I still can't believe how much that trail transformed over the course of 3 days. From cold, rugged, andean tundra littered with pre-incan structures, rocks, llamas, sheep and little vegetation to thin trails drapped with vines and leaves and plants. Crazy growths that looked like yucca plants that had flowers blooming from their center that resembled fat indian pant brush.Trees with leaves that had veins that were shaped like smaller leaves. Every shade of green you could imagine. Rounding every corner after corner, not kowing if you are about to trudge uphill for 40 minutes of downhill for an hour. Or, maybe, come across another checkpoint that is the home of an Aymara family that speaks little to no spanish (mostly only Aymara, the native indigenous tongue). They would sit on their front stoop waiting to sell you soda, candy or even a beer. Their homes were such simple structures with little amenities and usually chickens, donkeys, cats or dogs lingering in the front. One house I remember had a blue tarp with a sheet of tin as roofing. The animals interested me because as we lower in elevation and away from the Andean tundra (16-14,000 ft) down to the lush areas (12-8,000 ft), we saw less and less llamas and sheep and more cows, donkeys, mules, cats, dogs and chickens.
Getting into Coroico was so relieving and everyone was so sore. We all sat at the hostel and at warm meals and caught up with Carol. Mid-dinner Carol came in with her computer and read us the news about the shooting in Aurora. We all lost our smiles and say quietly for a bit. We talk about how insane it was that while that tragic event was taking place in coloraod, our home, we had all been asleep in our tents in the Andes. Life is truly short and as unpredictable as the choro trail.
I am so glad to be here and I cannot wait to spend the next 2 weeks in this town, researching and learning. So much to see and so much to do. We will all have a welcome dinner tonight and then regular class will start tomorrow. We will go on day trips, have guest speakers, do readings and learn as much as we can. it is already feeling like home and I am ready for what is to come.
Jessi
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