I promised myself I would write every week, but this is coming a month after my latest newsletter — and honestly, I leaned into it, because what’s the point of unemployment if you’re not fighting your internalized capitalism? This update is coming at you from Huanchaco, Peru, a small surf town outside the bustling city of Trujillo. Tomorrow, I’ll head to Lima.
The past month, I’ve thought a lot about how to make this trip “meaningful.” I never really found an answer. It probably ties back to my ayahuasca journey; do I really need that answer? So instead, I’ve decided to just do things as I felt like it. It’s a process that I don’t think many of us are used to; I can’t think of the last time that I made a decision purely because I “felt like it.” Even hopping on a plane to Colombia came from a place of logic — I’m burned out, taking this time off will make me a more valuable asset to capitalism in the long run, it’s cheaper to exist in South America anyways.
As I started experimenting with what I’m actually doing out here, I started posting more to Instagram. It’s been a wonderful way for me to process my daily experiences (and emotions), as well as build a consistent community as I struggle with the exhaustion of making new friends every 3-4 days. If you want to hear from me more often, say hi over there at @zefanonthego.
Otherwise, here’s what I’ve been up to the past month.
Leaving Ecuador
After spending a full month in Cuenca, I finally exited Ecuador. The city of Cuenca is a UNESCO World Heritage Site that I highly recommend to any type of traveler — clean streets, drinkable water, beautiful architecture, cheap taxis, and all the modern conveniences.
There’s also a sizable expat community in Cuenca, pretty much exclusively made up of retired Americans. While I found a few backpackers under 50, I also enjoyed getting to know all the people who had left their entire lives — near the end of it — to move to a tiny city on top of the Equator. Most were working class men or couples that just couldn’t afford the US on a pension anymore. Many were recently divorced and wanted a new start (read: an Ecuadorian girlfriend 30 years their junior). For whatever reason they ended up in Cuenca, they had built a fostering, supportive, expat community that couldn’t be found in the United States, either. It was almost a second chance to built the co-reliant community that we were all supposed to have in the States, but had at some point lost. For that reason, my time in Cuenca — albeit a bit boring — was also quite special.
After my month in Cuenca, I took a night bus to Peru — specifically, Chiclayo. The city was nothing special; I actually spent all day in my $15 hotel room (Chiclayo doesn’t even have hostels), but it was a transport hub to the rest of the country.
Chachapoyas, Peru
Chachapoyas, nestled in the Amazon cloud forest, is pretty off the standard backpacker path (when I ran into another westerner on an organized tour, he commented with, “You’re a long way from Lima!”), but it brought the magic. Most known the ancient ruins of Kuelap, which were supposed to be the “Machu Picchu of Northern Peru,” but have been closed for damage since last year, it also wasn’t too far from Gocta Falls, the 3rd highest waterfall in the world.
Overall, Chachapoyas — or Chacha, as the locals call it — has been my favorite destination in South America thus far.
Huanchaco, Peru
Currently, I’m perched in a coffee shop in Huanchaco, a surfer town outside of one of Peru’s larger coastal cities, Trujillo. It’s not my favorite. Food is expensive, the town is overrun by European surfers, and it’s very easy to forget that I’m in Peru. It’s always a difficult experience for me to visit an over-touristed place. While I understand that I, myself, am a tourist, it’s also underwhelming to find an experience that mirrors exactly what I could find in the United States — something I didn’t come for. I also squirm at the thought of contributing to the over-tourism that destroys local communities.
For the next week or so, though, this will be unavoidable. Once I arrive in Lima, I’ll be starting the “gringo trail,” or a tourist path used by most western tourists as they make their way from Lima to Cusco. I’m intentionally rushing through it, and during my month in Cusco I’m excited to work with a local tourism agency on marketing and digital media — because then I’ll be able to give back to the community, if even for a little bit.