Dumbing Us Down

When we met up with the group this morning at school, Hannah greeted us by telling us about her new glasses:

“They’re super ugly, but I can see everything in HD now.”

Everything in HD? Sounds pretty rad to me. Even better that the Misti Volcano peeked out of the clouds when we walked way up the hill to the Mirador de Yanahuara plaza.


We sat down on a freshly manicured patch of grass in the shade underneath palm trees, and were promptly told to move by one of the guards monitoring the plaza. So, we hopped over to the other side of the plaza, to the un-manicured grass and had a stimulating, colorful conversation that I will title: Gettin after Gatto. Talking about school versus not school for about an hour was thoroughly enlightening and awesome.


We strolled around and hung out on the park benches. Because it was so hot, we stuck to the shade and devoured cold cheesy-like ice cream.


When we split up for lunch, Blake improvised a silverware holder when the waitress cleared his salad plate.


Thanks to Claire, Ingmar and I scoped out the local rock gym. A bouldering gym, located in a basement, with checkered tile floors, old mattresses and linen sacks stuffed with old clothes for crash pads, and a bar as the front desk, The Mono Blanco rocked. (Apparently, the space was a strip club before it was converted into a rock gym). Ingmar and I had a solid bouldering sesh with the handful of dudes who run the gym. And when we returned to the gym later in the evening, after our group meeting and dinner, Ingmar initiated a dyno (big jumping from hold to hold) competition and people were flinging themselves all over the place. It was a sight to see. The guys who run the gym: Leonardo, Hester, and Martin, turned on the film 127 Hours and we watched it, while sitting on the bar, in Spanish of course.

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