I'm in the mountains. And I can't breathe. And it's worth it.

Written Sunday, 5 July, 2009, on a computer that doesn't like blogger.com.

I'm in the mountains. And I can't breathe. And it's worth it. Every single second is beauty personified, I'm buying more alpaca sweaters than any one person (or 4-5, to be more accurate) could sweat through in their life, the views are breathtaking, and I woke up this morning to a gorgeous sunrise. The altitude is severely impairing my movement skills, since what little fitness I had has gone out the "we're 10,000 feet in the air" window. Still, the hike we did today was awe-inspiring, and riding in the back of produce trucks as they bounce down cracked dirt roads was an experience in and of itself. Considering the whole of my trip over the last, oh, 17 days, is it already?, I have decided to give all who read this a little insight into my experiences by way of personalized notes. Enjoy :]

To Mamaw,

My gorgeous tree of life/tomorrow has not left my neck once since you bought it for me, save for during the two minutes I ran through security at SeaTac Airport...none of the Ecuadorian metal detectors even notice.

To Gramma Joan,

On that same note, I did in fact beep and get pulled over going through security at SeaTac, so I think we can say for sure that their security is irrationally tight. More seriously, I certainly inherited your travel bug, and the incredible experiences you've had constantly inspire me to seek more out of my time here, and make me more and more excited for the adventures I have yet to experience. I also thank you truly and profoundly for the gear you bought me - it's serving me extremely well, and certainly easing my way as I travel.

To Gramma Yvette,

I have made sure to spit from every relevant height I come to, including off the edge of a beach into white water rapids (into which I had earlier fallen), off the top of a massive Amazonian hardwood tree, off more than one clunky Ecuadorian transport, and from the top of the Andes Mountains onto the most beautiful view I have ever witnessed.

To Gramma-Gramma,

Every haggling skill you ever taught me was put to best use in the Zumbahua marketplace yesterday, dragging the price of lovely handknit alpaca sweaters down from $20 to $12, for example...now, if only you'd taught me Spanish, too, I'd not need to drag Michi along as translator!

To Tutu,

I walked through an Andean market yesterday. Eddie asked for help finding a reasonably-priced shawl for his grandmother, and knowing how well you could have sewn the garments there gave me incentive to view the quality with a more critical eye.

To Papa,

Every moment I was in the Galapagos, I was thinking of you and how much the incredible atmosphere of the islands reminded me of Hawai'i, and also of how much I can't wait to go there with you. To that end, I'd love to come back here to the Andes with you - we could hike slowly together, luxuriating in the intense views and sitting in the hot tub to chat. (Gramma can't come - she'd hate the cold :] )

To Momma,

I have missed you CONSTANTLY, and never moreso than when I was goofing off and just enjoying life, whether it be trying to not fall out of our canoes in the Amazon or finding every flimsy excuse to pick up and pet the tortoises at the Darwin Research Station in the Galapagos. My mommy-sickness was particularly acute, too, when I got sick, and longed for you to pet my head and bring me Gatorade. I made a playlist on my iPod to listen to while I slept that reminded me of you, and I can't wait to come home and see you.

To Daddy,

With the friends I have made, I've had conversations about everything from physics to Bioshock, and every conversation reminds me of you, and how much delight I can find just by being around you and spending time with you, whether it be by video games, chatting, or just periodically sneaking a glance at your computer screen over your back in the office. I've bought you every interesting turtle and tortoise I can find, and I can promise you that I tried very hard to smuggle out a baby for you to raise, but they're distressingly organized at the research center...but you still scored :]

To Grampa Steve,

I must be honest - I have not yet cracked either of the two books from you that I brought on this trip, but more than anything else, that's a testament to how interesting everything has been. Besides, since I'm constantly trying to find to sneak in some reading, I am always thinking of you and how much you'd appreciate the amazing things I'm seeing. There are also more than a few people in my group who could use some banging over the head with the Scepter of Truth, but I'm trying to hold my temper, and laugh at them silently like I know you'd tell me.

Ahhhh right...also, since you collect knives...well, it's not really a knife...I bought you a machete in the Amazon.

To Grampa Dan,

As I trek through this magical land and consider the ways my horizons have been broadened and my perspectives are shifting, I hope beyond hope that I can one day emulate the magnificence of the life you have lead, and I hope that perhaps I can find something in myself worth writing down, as you do so well.

Much love to all, and I'm absolutely delighted to be home now, where I can FINALLY post this in the comfort of my own squishy desk chair - the flights home were agonizingly long, and I almost missed my connection from LAX to Seattle, but all is well, and I've slept so well the last few nights that you might call it blessed.

Signing off, and most likely staying that way until I finish solidifying the rest of my year,

Egg