This is maybe the greatest thing I ever wrote, with the exception of my book about Eve, Noah and Abraham and how Yahweh screwed them over.
This is about my visit to Peru, a country that could certainly stand as a beacon of lost exoticism in anyone’s mind. I don’t want this piece lost to the depths of the internet, so here it is.
It was 2006 and I was 24, my first year in Bolivia. It was nice. For the first time I was getting out and about in life, forming opinions and colouring in the grey lines of who I was as a person.
That was for better and worse, as our opinions make us feel self-important but if you examine it all, opinions are just meaningless and divisive things. I was up and down on the humility vs. arrogance spectrum that year, but tended towards the latter. I was deservedly and necessarily knocked down a few pegs when I later found out that actual work that most people have to do to survive is very hard; much harder than any fortitude I ever had.