Our final night at Sach’a Munay, we had a traditional pachamanca dinner. Having never been to Peru before, I didn’t know what to expect, but we were told if we wanted to find out, that we should show up in an open space between the guest rooms and the office at the base of the […]
Tomorrow we leave Sach’a Munay and I’m sad to leave this sacred stunningly beautiful place that has been our group’s home for a week—and Karyn and I even longer. I’m really not ready to leave even though our next stop is Machu Picchu. After yoga class and writing class this morning, we had a free
Last Day at Sach’a Munay Read More »
Last chance to relax before class. Looking out the door of our writing room into the rain. Bonding over head scarves #1. Kim is sitting; Juliana is standing. Bonding over head scarves #2. Kim is sitting; Juliana is standing. Bonding over head scarves #3. Kim is sitting; Juliana is standing. Bonding over head scarves #4.
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After our visit to the Sillacancha School the other day, we made a second stop—at the market in Calca. As we bounced along the road between one destination and the other, Funky Town blasted out of the radio up front. We passed cows and small shops. Corn fields rimmed the road, the mountains looming over
This morning we visited the children of Sillacancha School. There school has 120 students, from first grade through sixth. School runs from 8:30 to 1:30 each weekly. Many of these children started school late. Most live in high mountain communities, two to three hours from the school. Some board with family members who live close
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At the opening orientation for our group, I gave people permission to skip an activity—to pace themselves, their energy, their body’s response to the altitude, and their need for down time and solitude—by sitting out a scheduled activity on an as needed basis. I asked that everyone come to writing class if at all possible
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On our bus trip yesterday, late afternoon stop was just outside the town of Maras. When the bus stopped it was cold. We all put on layers and windbreakers and piled off the bus. Down below us was a vast interlocking series of white pools. It is where salt has been farmed since the time
When I posted the picture of myself with oxygen and told you about my headaches, a lot of you wrote back worried I’d have a blood clot in my brain or that I had terrible altitude sickness. Even my son Eli wrote me and said, “Take the fucking medicine.” Some of you told me I
When we started this retreat, I asked everyone to take a risk today and last night at dinner, I watched Michelle, who was sitting beside me take her risk. She picked up this strange-looking unfamiliar fruit, cut it open and scooped some of it out to taste it. It looked kind of like a lemon,
After writing class today, we took an afternoon field trip to Moray, the ancient archeological site built by the Incas. A local guide from Urubamba, the next province over, joined us on our excursion today. Valentin grew up high in the mountains, the son of farmers. “The soil is very fertile with the good weather,”
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On almost all of my travel trips, we spend one morning of writing class doing an exercise in deep observation. Paying attention is one the most important qualities a writer can foster, so this morning I read my students a story about deep observation in a scientific setting, and then sent them out, dressed in
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I was up this morning at 3:30 AM with a headache. I’ve had a headache for some part of every day I’ve been here and the day we went up to Cusco to pick up our students, at 11,000 feet, I felt like my head was in a vise the whole day. As soon as
I’ve always loved string figure games. I grew up doing Jacob’s Ladder and playing Cat’s Cradle. String games are kind of like riding a bicycle—once you learn how to make them, you never forget. It’s muscle memory—cellular intelligence. When our kids, Eli and Lizzy were in elementary school, they went to an alternative elementary school
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