Newsletter #26: A Coastal Break

Desert Dune Sandboarding

A few hours south of Lima lies the desert oasis of Huacachina. It’s tiny. You can walk around the whole oasis in 20 minutes or less. However, tons of tourists still visit to explore the sand dunes surrounding the oasis. There are dune buggy tours, and you can opt to include body boarding, sand boarding, or sand skiing. I decided to give the sandboarding a go, even though I’m much more familiar with being on skis in the snow.

We spent the afternoon taking the buggies out to three different dunes where we got two runs down each. After a brief explanation of mechanics (which I thought I was relatively familiar with from a conceptual perspective), I set down on my first run. 20 seconds later, as soon as I attempted to make my first turn, I got a face full of sand and tumbled down several feet. After falling once, sand covered the board almost completely. This made it incredibly heavy and sticky, meaning it was even more difficult to turn.

I proceeded to faceplant the rest of the way down my next few runs. Slowly throughout each, I got closer and closer to being able to make a full turn, and by my fourth run I was able to make a whole turn before continuing with my faceplanting. By this point my teeth were gritty with sand, no matter how much water I tried to wash it out with.

The last two runs of the day, I finally figured out the balance and how to move in the sand. After falling once each time near the top of the run, I was able to board all the way down the dune at a good clip with no more falls. I felt a sense of satisfaction figuring it out just in the knick of time, but I wish I had more runs to really dial things in with my newfound breakthrough.

We ended by racing over to see the sunset over the dunes with the ocean far in the distance. It was a fun way to spend a few hours in the warm desert, and the sunset was a nice opportunity to chat with some folks more than the few moments between each of our runs.

Paracas Natural Reserve

An hour north of Huacachina is Paracas, a small beach town with a large natural reserve nearby. A friend recommended I rent a bike and ride around it, and his description was that it looked like another planet. Put together unique scenery and the chance to be on a bike again, and I didn’t need much convincing.

As soon as I entered the park, my friend’s description made complete sense. There was a slight haze in the air, and my visibility far into the distance was limited. I looked around and could see nothing but dry desert wasteland and ocean surrounding the lonely road I was riding. The rocks and the sand composing the desert hills were speckled with reds, browns and blacks. There were no plants to be seen, and few signs of life outside of the occasional bird passing overhead.

Later on I arrived at several beaches. One I had all to myself, where I passed time watching the Inca terns perched upon the rocks and a gecko attempt to eat a potato chip that I had dropped on the beach. I’ve never seen an Inca tern before, and it’s one of the most distinct featured birds I’ve seen. Its red beak, yellow cheeks and white moustache (yes, it’s a bird with a moustache) create a stark contrast with its black body.

Other wildlife included pelicans and vultures, the latter of which emphasized the atmosphere of the abandoned wasteland.

The ride was well worth it. Many moments throughout I was in awe of how wild the landscape felt. It’s difficult to describe the perceived expansiveness in words, so hopefully the pictures aid in that department.

Ballestas Islands Boat Tour

The Ballestas Islands are sometimes referred to as the Galapagos of Peru. Given I have never been to the Galapagos, I cannot confirm or deny whether that statement is true or not. A boat trip out to see these islands is a popular activity in Paracas that promises sea lions, penguins, and hosts of other wildlife among the rocky outcrops.

The Ballestas Islands are significantly smaller than the Galapagos, that’s for sure. They are a collection of only three tiny islands. Despite their small size, the wildlife was abundant. We did in fact see both penguins and sea lions, as well as heaps of different birds that live on the islands. It was a very straightforward and short tour, so there isn’t really much else to say. If you’re anything like me, you just want to see the penguins. They were a ways away, so this is the best my camera could do, but here you go. Additional pictures included as well.

Surfing

I’ve always wanted to learn how to surf. I’ve only tried it once before, and it wasn’t nearly enough time to figure out the mechanics. I had five days in Huanchaco, and I was hopeful that I’d be able to at least get the basics down in that time.

I took a lesson my first day to try to expedite my learning process. Unfortunately, my instructors english was very minimal, and my Spanish vocabulary around surfing was equally so. This meant I couldn’t ask many questions, and it was purely a learn by doing lesson. Even so, with the help of some pushes from my instructor, I was able to stand up on several waves. My hopes of figuring the rest out on my own were strengthened. If I could stand up, the only part I had to learn was the timing of paddling into the wave and catching it.

I may or may not have had a tad of hubris in my own abilities. If I had to choose one word to describe the next four days of practice, it would be humbling.

I spent close to eight hours in the water, and at least one or two more watching YouTube videos trying to figure out proper technique. I paddled and paddled, and kept either missing the waves or immediately falling. As I looked around me, others made it looks so smooth and easy. Each day I felt a little closer to having it click, but it never did. Over my four days I was able to stand up maybe a total of 5-10 times. Most of those times, I only lasted a few seconds before I was back in the water.

It was frustrating. I’ve always been able to pick up new skills relatively quickly, and this is the first activity in a long time where I felt like I was barely making any progress. It’s probably a good thing for my ego to have an experience like this every once in a while, but it was still annoying. It gave me far more respect for how talented strong surfers are, and how much time they’ve put into their craft.

All that said, spending a few hours in the water everyday wasn’t too bad a way to pass time. I’m happy I went for it, and my stubbornness already has me itching to find my next opportunity to give it another go (where I will prioritize many more lessons).

Chess

I’m always looking for good coffee wherever I go. It’s always a toss up whether I find a cafe I like. If I do find one, then the dilemma becomes whether I return to the same cafe day after day, or continue to try different ones.

My first day in Huanchaco, I was walking along the beachfront and saw a hole in the wall cafe across the road. Five small tables with one or two chairs each in a space no more than 8 feet wide and 20 feet deep. Being sleep deprived after a night bus, it was a good enough place to start for me.

The flat white I ordered was one of the top 3-5 cups of coffee I’ve had in South America (and I’ve had a lot of coffee). As soon as I took my first few sips I knew I didn’t need to go anywhere else the rest of my time there.

How does this have anything to do with chess?

The second day I walked back, and the owner Dan was sitting down with another local playing a game of chess. He made my coffee, and went back to playing. I watched them as I enjoyed my drink. I could tell the two games were unevenly matched with Dan being the stronger player. After they finished their second game, Dan asked if I wanted to play.

I sat down and we spent the next hour or so playing two games. Every once in a while a customer would walk in, Dan would make their coffee, and return. He would wave and whistle as people he knew walked by outside. During the second game, his partner walked in and asked how the game was going. She let out an audible gasp as she learned that I had beat Dan in the first game. A fun sign that he doesn’t have a close match very often.

“Rematch tomorrow.” he said as I left to grab some lunch.

The next morning, same story. We split our games 1-1. Both my coffees were consistently decadent.

I returned my final day to play one more game.

It was a fun surprise getting to play some good chess for a few days, but that wasn’t my favorite part about the whole experience. My favorite part was watching Dan interact with those who came in. It’s clear that in the three years his cafe has been open, he’s built a community of regulars. Every time I walked by and peeked inside, he was chatting with someone else, whether a tourist or a local. He’ll chat coffee. He’ll play chess with anyone that wants to play, and teach them if they don’t know how. He’ll give recommendations on Huanchaco and Peru. I don’t own a coffee shop, or any kind of brick and mortar business, but if I did, I’d want to be like Dan.

The Temporal Nature of Emotions

He turned around to leave the cafe right as I walked in the door. We laughed as we saw each other. Much to my surprise, it happened to be Boy, one of my friends from my Huayana Potosi group a month ago. We caught up for a bit, his girlfriend Mijanne joined, and the three of ended up taking a taxi to Paracas the next day together and had more time to chat.

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I was riding a wave during my surf lesson and saw two girls out of the corner of my eye. The wave took me nearer to them, and as I fell off my board I recognized their faces as two more friends from my Huayana Potosi group. Suffice to say, we were even more surprised to see each other in this particular circumstance. We ended up having several meals together and relaxing by the beach during our time in Huanchaco.

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Just a few days ago, I returned to my hostel in Huaraz. Sitting on the couch, once again, were Boy and Mijanne. We shared another laugh and grabbed dinner one last time before they left Peru.

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All these chance encounters happened the week immediately after sharing I was feeling burnt out, one of the reasons specifically being due to not finding as many connections with people. I can’t help but chuckle at the timing of it all. Seeing these friends that I made over a month ago was re-energizing, and my mood dramatically shifted being able to spend time with people I knew I got along with.

It’s reminded me of the temporal nature of emotions. Sometimes they change quickly, and sometimes they last much longer than we would like them to, but they are not permanent. There is a decent chance that the underlying emotion is pointing to something (like a desire to be around familiar faces), that, if addressed, might change your internal disposition.

Many months ago, I wrote a longer post on emotions, tears, and the beauty of experiencing these rather than trying to control them or fix them. It’s a slightly different angle on emotions than this reflection is, but they do have some common underlying ideas. Given there are some new faces (well, emails) on this list, now seems like a reasonable time to re-share it. You can find it here – The Joy of Tears.

Identity

This is a bit of an applied extension of my surfing experience. As I mentioned, I’m quite used to picking things up very quickly. This has been the case most of my life, and has garnered more than a few sarcastic comments from friends over the years. I often don’t have much of a response beyond a laugh, as I can’t really help the fact that things generally click for me.

At times, this has crept its way into becoming a large part of my identity. I’m a guy who is “always good at things”. This has several implications, one of which being that exceptions to this rule can have a much deeper impact on my self-image and worth than they should. I can be hesitant to participate in activities with others if it’s an activity I know I’m bad at. There can be a fear that this says something about me as a person, as it goes against the identity that’s been built up over time. If people see me perform terribly at something, will that change the way they view me? Does that make me less valuable to them?

One of my favorite aspects about writing feelings like this down is it externalizes them, which typically results in exposing how silly the internal thought processes are. Of course not being good at something doesn’t say anything about me as a person. No one is good at everything. Whether or not you excel in an area says nothing about your character.

Maybe you relate to this on some level. You might not be the person who is “good at everything”. But maybe you’re the person who can have a conversation with anyone. Maybe you’re the person who can always come up with creative solutions to problems. Maybe you’re the person who always lightens the mood in the room.

These traits may be true most of the time, but they become limiting when they are boxes that we feel we must fit in. How do we react to experiences that place us outside these boxes?

If you’re always cheery, how do you respond in a group when you’re deeply sad? If you’re a great cook, how do you respond when someone doesn’t like your food? If you’re the comedian amongst your friends, how do you respond when your joke doesn’t land?

Your value as an individual shouldn’t be tied to any of these characteristics. Don’t let any one thing define you. Give others the same respect. If you’re a person (which I assume you are if you’re reading this), you have inherent value simply from that.