When we left off, I had revealed our harrowing journey from La Paz to Copacabana. At the time, the Momma bear was feeling a little "off" and yet she soldiered on, displaying a brave face, even though it looked green. When we arrived at our hostel in Puno, Peru (yes we had to cross the border once again!) we put her straight to bed, hoping a good night's sleep would erase whatever was causing her ashen appearance.
Unfortunately plans rarely go the way we organize them. In fact during the middle of the night I awoke to find my body performing the jitterbug, my teeth chattering to set the tempo. I piled on every article of clothing I had and when the not-so-good vibrations refused to stop, I woke my bedroom buddy, Mags, our newly minted nurse in the family, and begged for help. She opened her bag of pharmaceuticals (it's a wonder she never got searched during all those border crossings), concocted a nice little potion and put me back to bed. In my drugged up stupor the last thing I remember was her saying her belly wasn't feeling great. And then came the welcomed coma I sank into for the remainder of the night.
The morning found Momma bear, head first in the toilet, a sure sign the good night's sleep prescription had failed. When she vacated her post, our little nursing darling, ran in to take up her position. Somewhere in the night her belly had contorted to bring out, ummm, everything.
Molly and I, being historically squeamish, left the bombing beauties to their commode lovin' and raced to the soundproof breakfast area. There we spoke of lovely things and ignored the predicament at hand completely. The predicament being how to get two spewing, backfiring bellas onto the bus without causing calamity. We also ignored the fact that neither of us was feeling good, instead using the tried and true technique of -- fake it 'til you make it. Which meant using only positive and affirming statements like "I feel amazing!"
Molly pretending everything & everyone was "amazing"
Luckily we only had one near disaster right before loading the bus, when Maggie stopped mid step and hunched over the gutter, bringing her face right close to a forgotten doggie dodo, bringing on even more gagging. I yelled at her to find a washroom immediately as I refused to be part of the canadian unloading her guts into the gutter along with the dog shit pile, a tact that scared her or inspired her to find a more private venue.
this might have been the only time Maggie left her bus cocoon.
However once we loaded the bus we all felt safe and secure in our little bus womb, with it's plush, wide seats and onboard facilities. If anyone disbelieved that heaven exists they need to get their bums on that bus. And we were not the worst of the bunch. No there was an older man attached to an air mask who looked far more ashen than the four of us combined.
she wasn't even wearing lipstick... a bad sign indeed.
Over the course of the day we stopped at "must-see" spots, including a little incan house with pet llamas, alpaca and guinea pig. Although I don't actually believe they were pets but merely edible animals, still it was nice to pet them. At the last stop outside of Cusco we entered an old church undergoing extensive repairs. Half the church had been renovated while the other half awaited it's makeover, an interesting paradox to see. Poor momma bear who is usually so filled with inquiry went to ask our guide about something but once she realized the amount of effort it would take to grab his attention and figure out the proper spanish wording, she shut her mouth and plopped down on the bench. "I don't even care," she said. Which made both Molly and I stare mouth agape, taking stock of this once in a lifetime moment. Our mother, keeping quiet and no burning questions of minute detail to ask... maybe this travel sickness wasn't so bad after all.
yes this is me singing to an Alpaca, it was part of my "positive" affirmations
PS have you seen waitress? I loved it so very much it's on my top ten.
No comments:
Post a Comment