When Words Collide: Peru and life, in so many words ...

Some things are best left to themselves than summed-up. There's no way I could describe to you how it feels to be on an island in the middle of lake as the tin roof of my bedroom claps against its walls; or how the juices of a perfectly-ripe pineapple taste when confronted by a sunset that's uninteruppted by noise or building (but I'll try - they both explode. And, like wine and cheese, go better together); or how the stones of centuries-old buildings feel after they've been turned to rubble and used to build a new empire ... and the sediment left on your fingers when you brush against them, trying to imbue yourself with their power or wisdom or history ... as if by some metaphysical osmosis you could understand each stone's journey.

I could try. Through adjectives and similes, but you could only be there if you had been. Many times during my trip to Peru, I uttered to my travel companion, "No matter how many pictures we take, we'll never be able capture this." Not with disappointment and

not with regret, however. But, in revery. Like many times before (and hopefully many more in the future), I knew the best picture would be the one that would fade away in my head. And not just picture, but the more ineffable senses of experience - sound, smell, feel. All I have is a window.

I realize now, as I did then, there was something special about those moments we can't capture or describe. And be thankful that we can't. Otherwise we could just read travelogues and flip through stacks of pictures and be there. But these moments, they require our participation. They require that we GO. Otherwise, you would only know this about the little girl on Amantani - her name was Lucy and she chomped on an absurdly large carrot that reminded me of the exaggerated-action of Shoot 'Em Up and her bites made a crunching sound like when you step on an insect with an exoskeleton. Even more, she liked it when I drew on her hand with a blue colored pencil and her sun-kissed skin felt like the hide of an animal; she was fascinated with my camera and took THIS picture; lastly, her curiosity was only exceeded by her smile that looked like that of a rough charcol sketch I once saw in a Degas collection.

But, that's just me and my frames of reference. You would have to meet her for yourself to know how delightful she was.

Of my trip, though, I can tell you these ten things ...

1) Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches can sustain one for only so long.

2) When in doubt, buy the poncho.

3) Escupir is the Spanish verb "to spit". An alpaca taught me that.

4) In Peru, soft serve ice cream dispensers are the new phonebooths.

5) When you travel, you'll often be more amazed by yourself than your destination.

6) While thin, the air at 10,000+ feet is manna for the lungs.

7) My definition of "hot water" is much more flexible than it once was.

8) Guinea pigs (cuy) are cuter than they are tasty.

9) Going sin guia (no guide) is so much more exciting (or, at least, eventful).

10) The crucifix can be depicted a startling number of ways.