Ica Day Trip Pt 2

Allinllachu! You'll have to forgive me for not posting sooner! The minute we returned from Ica, we moved hotels, met the rest of our Fulbright group, and started orientation, so it's been a hectic week and a half. But I promised a part 2 of the PeruHop tour, and I wanted to share my experience in Huacachina with you all, since it was definitely the highlight of the trip.

When we left off, we had just finished our boat tour of the Islas Ballestas in Paracas, and were headed to the bus for an hour long ride to Huacachina.

Huacachina is an oasis in the middle of the Ica Desert in Peru: it's a tiny city that centers around a large green lake, and surrounded by steep, sandy dunes. We arrived around 4, and as soon as we stepped off the bus the heat hit us in full force. I've never considered Peru a very hot country, but I know better now!! Parts of it can reach up to 34 degrees Celsius, or over 90 degrees Fahrenheit! It makes summer in NC seem like child's play.

The guides split us up into groups for dune-buggying; so all 10 of us (fulbrighters and family members) were able to ride one huge buggy together. Our driver's name was Moises--he said very little to us, but seemed to be the most experienced driver of the bunch. Every time we pulled up to a vista, he would make sure our buggy came in with the flashiest, most thrilling entrance. We trusted Moises unconditionally, and Moises trusted the vehicle, even when we didn't.

To get to the dune buggies, we had to hike up a short dune, which is no easy task when your shoes are filling with sand and each step feels like gravity is weighing you down tenfold. But we made it! Breathing hard and sweating, but we made it to the top, and from there it was smooth sailing. Well, bumpy sailing actually, considering how the buggy rattled my brain straight out of my head, but worth it!

Riding with Moises was definitely thrilling, and speeding across the sandy flats in between dunes was an amazing experience. We all looked kind of funny with our face masks and our sunglasses, but with the wind in our hair and the excitement of the ride it was otherworldly. We stopped several times to see the views of the dunes, of the city and the mountains beyond them, and of the sky. It was such an incredible experience! Moises would whip the buggy around at terrifying speeds, and then drive us all the way to the top of a dune only to have us teeter over the edge, leaning almost vertically down,

before racing us down the mountains of sand while we screamed with terror and delight. It was just like a rollercoaster ride, which normally I hate, but Peru has imbued me with a crazy amount of self confidence, and I even took a turn riding at the front next to Moises, so that it felt like I could tumble into the sand at any moment!

But the ride wasn't the highlight of the trip–the sand boarding was. After 15-20 minutes of racing across the dunes, Moises and the other buggies in our group stopped at the top of an incline. It was a dune with two tiers: one a gradual slope leading to another ledge that dropped off into nothing that we could see, and then the flat expanse far, far below, at the bottom. As we clambered down from the vehicles, Moises and the other drivers started pulling boards from the trunks: flat white boards with 2 straps on one end, which looked like skateboards without the wheels, or snowboards. I knew we were sandboarding, but I had pictured more of a sled than the slim boards I saw in front of me. There was no way that could fit an adult person, I thought. But I was wrong! The drivers waxed the boards, gathered us by the precipice, and explained how to lie belly-down on the board, longways, hands holding onto the straps and elbows tucked in, a little bit like a plank stance or a sunrise salutation. Our legs were splayed out behind us, about shoulders width apart, and the drivers instructed us to lift our feet up above the sand. The more you lifted your feet, the faster you would go, and vice versa.

If you know me, you know that I am very scared of heights and free-falls. But when I studied abroad in Ecuador, I started to engage in some exposure therapy to cure my fears: I went zip lining, bungee jumping, parasailing, etc. So I knew I had to sandboard, and I also knew I had to be one of the first, so I could get it over with and not have the anxiety build up in my stomach. I was the second person to go. I was full of apprehension and nerves as I sat there, elbows tucked in, waiting for the driver to push me over the edge. And then he did! And I flew down the slope, trying to remember all of the instructions at once, and lifting my feet to go faster as I leaped over the second tier. It was actually incredibly exhilarating, and it ended faster than I thought it would. By the time I reached the bottom, I was laughing instead of screaming.

We spent the next 15 minutes watching the rest of the group come down: some very elegantly, and others not so much. Some went over the second tier and caught air; others slowed down too much and had to restart. By the time everyone who wanted to had come down, we were all excited and full of anticipation for the next slope, which was a short walk to the right of us. I was so bolstered by my successful run that I volunteered to go first on the next dune; I was already grabbing the straps and lying down before most of the group had even walked up to the ledge! I adjusted my mask, tucked in my elbows, lifted my feet, and the driver gave me the push over. I flew. It was incredible, and I was laughing and lifting my feet higher, and higher, until suddenly my board began to turn, and instead of going down headfirst, I was now sideways. I felt it happen as if in slow motion, and tried to slow myself down somehow, but there was no stopping. As I turned fully horizontal, perpendicular to the path, the board flipped....and I flipped with it! I somersaulted and rolled over about five or six times, the momentum carrying me down the hill, sand flying into my mouth, my eyes, my back, while my left shoulder crashed into the ground over and over again, until finally, I rolled to a stop. I laid flat on the ground for a moment, trying to catch my breath, feeling incredibly dizzy and incredibly embarrassed. So pride actually does come before a fall! But then I remembered everyone at the top watching me, and I scrambled to get to my feet to show them I was okay--a little dazed and confused, but unhurt. I stood up too fast, though, and took several stumbling steps in all sorts of directions, still dizzy from the fall, but I eventually managed a thumbs up for the people above.

The selfie I took post-fall: I was covered in sand!! My friend Britney told me she thought I had grown a beard.

I'm fine now, and really nothing was bruised except my ego and my shoulder, and I laughed about it pretty quickly once everyone had come down. All the tourists were so sweet, asking me if I was OK, if I was hurt, and how I felt. Several of the older ones even decided not to sandboard the second slope after seeing me fall, because they were so scared! But really all that happened was that I lifted my feet too high and my momentum spun me out of control. Oops!

We all climbed back into the buggies to drive to our final destination: the third slope. The sun was beginning to set, and the air was cooling down, and inside I was panicking. The third slope was the steepest of all: so sheer a drop that you could barely see the bottom, much less the path we were supposed to take. After my flip fiasco, I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted a repeat experience, especially on a hill as large as this one. I had been lucky enough not to get hurt the first time, but this hill looked like it could do me some serious damage. But when we got out of the buggy and unloaded the boards again, there was really only one option for me: I had to do it. I couldn't chicken out now! I had to go 3 for 3, and redeem my experience not just because the others were watching, but for myself! What did it say about me if I couldn't put aside my discomfort for the sake of a once in a lifetime experiment? Would I do the same in my placement towns or with my students? I couldn't let this be the tone I set for the rest of the trip. So I let a few people go down ahead of me to ensure it was feasible, and then I got right back on that board. I won't lie, I was terrified as hell. But I was excited too, and very competitive, especially with myself, and that part won out. I'll try to link the video of the third slope below; it's not as exciting as it felt but I'll give you a sense of what it was like for me. And spoiler alert: I made it down in one piece! It was the swoopiest feeling in my stomach going down that basically-vertical slope, but it was incredible, and I'd do it again no questions asked.

Ok side note I will not be linking the video because I have tried my best for 3 days to upload it to this website and I no longer have the patience or the tech savviness to do it. But if anyone wants to see the video I will happily send it to you. Enjoy these pictures instead!

We ended the day on a high: watching the sun go down behind clouds and dunes, and taking many, many photos together. Moises, in his own, quiet way, just laid down on the sand and stared at his phone until it was time for us all to go back. He's perfect to me. By the time we got back to the oasis town, it was almost completely dark, so that the lights of the buildings looked like twinkling stars from a distance and warm glows up close, and the dunes turned into hulking dark shadows that loomed protectively over the town. They were really so close you could touch them. We grabbed a quick dinner and then we were on our way back, covered in sand, sunburnt, exhausted, but happy. We made it back to Lima around midnight, and immediately collapsed into bed. Orientation would start in 2 days, and we needed to get ready!

I'm in Oxapampa now, finally starting teaching and settling into the life here. I'll try and post later this week with all the pictures I have--this place is gorgeous!! I can't wait to share it with you all.

Much love! Tupananchiskaman!