Espinosa Footprints: Found: Adventures!

In Spanish, you might say (in a literal translation) "Gigi is pegging Dominic with erasers while he tries to do his schoolwork." But sometimes another person may say, "The Gigi is pegging Dominic with erasers while he tries to do his schoolwork." Or "The Gigi is eating a tub of white sugar behind the kitchen door." Or "The Gigi is using the flower vase as a drinking glass." I'm not sure why the definite article is sometimes used for personal names, but it makes it seem as if the individual being referenced is that much larger in life. Not just any 6 year old girl named Gigi, no, she's THE Gigi. And perhaps there's something to that thought as Gigi has the distinction of having the definite article attached to her name more than any of the others.

The day she was caught drinking out of a flower vase, she was also caught straddling her bedroom window on the second floor. She scared our neighbor half to death. When the housekeeper was vacuuming and Gigi wanted to shout something across the house, she'd yank the cord from the wall so she could be heard. My patient housekeeper kept her cool, even when Gigi put her feet on her head as she tried to vacuum under the couch Gigi was sitting on. That same day, Gigi switched the power buttons on all our computer hardware and then punched her brother in a fit of rage when he pulled her away. But that was an unusually bad day. She just seems to have a lot of them these days. Which is why it has been a welcome relief to have two extra sets of eyes around for the past couple weeks.

My parents made it! After a rocky start, they found their bearings and are now practically Paceños (native La Paz-ians), taking the taxis solo to dinner at the Hotel Europa and picking up bread at the French bakery at the end of the neighborhood. They've been here for two weeks but it still doesn't seem real that they are here. My parents are globe trotters- Seattle, New York, Ireland, Russia, Spain, Austria, Chile... fine wine, river cruise, symphonic performance, necktie and pearls kind of travel. Seeing them huffing and puffing their way through Inca ruins is just not... them.

Sometimes, it's not me either. I always talk about adventures as if it's something I crave. But I forget that I'm not really good at adventures. For one, I hate being in a car for long periods of time. In the early years of my marriage, I made a deal with Danny that whenever we traveled, our stay at any destination would be equal to at least one day for every 3 hours of drive time. Therefore, if it takes 3 hours to get to Orlando, and 3 hours back (6 total hours drive time), then we had to spend a minimum of 48 hours in Orlando. This proportion has worked well for me and I'm really glad that I happened upon that stroke of genius. Another thing that makes me a bad adventurer, is that I get motion sickness very easily. I have countless stories of travel plans ruined by nausea - in planes, in boats, in youth group buses, in motorpool vans... So our highlight trip to Titicaca had all the makings of an adventure fail.

We spent about 11 hours total in travel to be there for just two days. I broke my rule.

And further, that travel included stop-and-go torture through El Alto, followed by literally the rockingest boatride ever across the Strait of Tiquina, and ending with a dizzying path through the hills into Copacabana.

I asked Toby to be photographer because I was not well.

By the time we arrived at the hotel, I could barely stand on two feet, much less climb up the hillside to our little cabin. I was set in a chair in the middle of the lawn in the middle of the property where I sat with my eyes closed, listening to the shrieks of the kids being mowed down by feisty alpacas.

It was a sad moment. We cancelled the Isla del Sol tour for the day as I tried to regain control of my lower esophageal sphincter.

Our hotel "cabin" was the best part of the trip - a conical, one-bedroom suite that looked like a snail-shell fairy house, with large flower-shaped stained-glass windows overlooking Lake Titicaca. Lake Titicaca is immense. You can not see one side from the other. The next morning, we did take a private boat charter out to Isla del Sol (which is also immense) where we saw the Pilko Kaina Incan ruins.

Pilko Kaina was a place of worship and meditation for the Incan emperor, built in the 1400s. Incan mythology holds that the Lake birthed the two children of the sun god who were sent to earth to teach humanity how to live decent, respectable lives. In the distance, one can see Isla de la Luna where privileged native community virgins were cast away to live a lonely life of devotion to the gods.

After touring the temple, we cruised to other stops around the east side of the island, including a fountain of youth of dubious report, and a small restaurant (two tables) where we had Aptapi, a traditional Andean fare served in the traditional al fresco, lay-it-all-out-and-get-what-you-want manner.

The tiny fried fishies are called Ispis. Gigi kept trying to pluck out their itty bitty eyes before eating them.

We headed straight home from the island - 6 excruciating hours of travel. But, we got to see the Andes. I love the Andes Mountains. After living in La Paz for a while, you get to know the individual mountains like friends: Huayna Potosi, Chacaltaya, Cerro Mururata (the headless one), and my favorite, Illimani. Incan mythology explains how Illimani decapitated his brother, Mururata.

Isn't he handsome?

My parents enjoyed a flamenco show put on by the girls' dance studio, walks to the Achumani market, and lots of trips to see the boys practice tennis. We also toured the Flor de Leche dairy.