My Last Adventure Begins....Kind of Shaky!

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My last adventure began with a near death experience. Amie and I went to the airport in Ayacucho to catch a flight to Lima, and then from Lima to Cuzco. The women were praying (Dios Mio!) and asking us if we have ridden in small airplanes before. I acted super confident and smiled, and simply said that small airplanes didn’t bother me….maybe I’m going to change my mind about that statement. First the plane was two hours late (by this point, I’m used to Peruvian time). Then the pilot asked us how much we weigh in kilos. I have no idea I’m trying to do some odd calculations in my head, but before I even finish the pilot throws Amie and I into the plane and piles pieces of luggage on us to balance out the airplane. Now is a good time to mention that the airplane was so small that it held seven passengers, and we couldn’t even sit facing the same way. You can only imagine how “smooth” the ride was! Half way through the trip, the pilot starts kneeing the steering wheel to hold it in place as he reaches into a little cupboard to start pouring us drinks and handing us snacks. I quickly jumped and asked if I could help him, so I, with the help of my willing friend Amie, became the stewardess of the airplane. Everyone was so tense that I started cracking jokes and imitated the stewardess’ speech at the start of the flight saying things like, “The ONLY exit is right beside you.” It was actually kind of fun. When we landed, all of the other elderly women (and me) started thanking God.
Now, Amie and I had a new problem - only ten minutes to make our next flight from Lima to Cuzco. We raced through the airport and found someone to help us. He checked our bags, got our boarding passes, and raced us through the back ways of the airport in Lima (we skipped security!). He radioed ahead to let them know we were coming, and a airport worker that wanted to practice his English kept yelling, “You better run!” We made it and we loved that it was a HUGE plane😉
When we arrived at Cuzco, it is a beautiful, historic city, but had a much different feeling that Ayacucho. People would come up to us and ask us questions in English, and sometimes we would accidentally answer in Spanish because we weren’t used to that. It didn’t feel as charming, or maybe it was because we had to share it with so many tourists. I think that volunteering for Ayacucho made me a part of the city, and not just a visitor.
That night Amie and I went out for a fabulous dinner of trout and we tried the jugo especial (the drink made with cervesa negra, leche, huevos, plantanos, papayas, naranjas, y pinas - which is black beer, milk, eggs, bananas, papayas, oranges, and pineapple). It was actually pretty good. After such an emotional day, it was relaxing

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