Out of Gas
The next day I popped my head back into my favorite Inka Farma to buy some soap from my favorite Inka Farmacist. She recognized me and greeted me with a question right off the bat.
“Hola Juan. Necesitas mas condoms?”
Hi Juan. Do you need more condoms?
The ensuing conversation went something like this:
“Actually no, I bought a pack of 4.”
Blink. Blink.
“That was yesterday.”
Blink. Blink.
“It´s only been one night.”
Blink. Blink.
“I´m not 21 anymore. You know?”
Blink. Blink.
Try as I may, the concept of limited endurance just did not compute with her. She regarded me with utter bewilderment, as if 4 love-making sessions in a single evening were not only squarely within the realm of the possible for most men, but as easy as walking upright. I was dumbfounded, but then I remembered who I was dealing with.
This Andean gene pool is responsible for siring porters who hike 10 miles a day with 60 kilos on their back (this was before 2002 when a law was introduced limiting the portage to 30 kilos including personal effects). Every year a race is held that the porters compete in. They run the same 32 kilometer stretch of Inca Trail that takes the tourists 4 days and 20 hours to complete. The fastest time according to one guide I spoke with was set in 1997 at 3 hours and 44 minutes. Before you shrug please consider that these are not professionally trained, corporate sponsored athletes running on flat, paved surfaces with throngs of cheering supporters handing them cups of water. These are working men - many who have just returned from completing the trail the day before - running in ratty, open-toe sandals over rocky and uneven terrain three thousand meters above sea level where the air is thin.
The simple fact is that the Quechua people are bred for this kind of endurance. They sport a compact build which is low to the ground, energy efficient and circulatory-friendly. No spindly limbs or elongated torso to chew up oxygen here. Their condensed frame is a battery specifically-designed for firing their little leg pistons (as well as apparently all their little pistons) for hours without end.
I am also realzing that people who live at or close to sea level will never fully acclimatise to the elevation in Cusco. The headaches and nausea will pass in a matter of days, but you will never completely regain the respiratory vigor you once enjoyed. Even after a month here the simple act of walking up stairs makes me pant for air like I have a 3 pack a day habit.
I left the Inka Farma a little demoralized and a little out of breath from the effort of carrying my bar of soap up the gentle incline of the Avenida Del Sol. Looks like romance with a local is out of the question - I am never going to be able to measure up with the expectations of these gals. There are only so many evenings where you can say, “Not tonight honey, I have altitude sickness,” before frustration sets in. Not that I´m making excuses or anything, but aside from the idiot grin and the injured frame, this is what the cute nurse likely saw tattooed right across my forehead when she looked at me:
previous post: Lost in Translation
next post: War. Huh. Yeah. What is it good for? Absolutely nothing. Say it again, y’all.
on March 2nd, 2008 at 6:41 pm
I’ll place a wager [on your nuevos soles] that you can conquer the Incan Trail in 3:43:03 wearing your slippery slippers . . . who says you’re running on empty? Pshaw!
on March 3rd, 2008 at 9:34 pm
dude. that’s why they’ll love you. your lack of sexual prowess will be a novelty. less times she has to beat you off with a stick. says here (in my handy european guide to incan women pamphlet) that incan women hate sex. the less love you can make, the better. now, be a good soldier and put a picture of your wares* in your wallet and go impress some ladies. (*the peanut butter, of course.)
on March 4th, 2008 at 9:34 am
Well you always have the citizenship carrot to hang in the air if nothing else works.
on March 4th, 2008 at 12:53 pm
Dan el Man, I took the liberty of adding the words “with a stick” to your sentence “less time she has to beat you off.” I will remind you, good sir, that this is a family-oriented blog and there is simply no place for your brand of filth.
Natalie, thanks for the vote of confidence.
on March 4th, 2008 at 10:10 pm
don’t forget the tongue is mightier than the sword!!! will my brand of filth make the cut?
on March 5th, 2008 at 7:03 pm
Sonoko,
If your sexual inudendo is vague enough to slip through FCC censoring, and I believe that it is, then it is vague enough to mystify the likely readers of this blog. Your comment will remain - in keeping with the theme of your post - unspoiled.
on September 10th, 2009 at 2:02 pm
Hi! I was surfing and found your blog post… nice! I love your blog.
Cheers! Sandra. R.