Welcome to YQtravelling’s FoodFriday. The day of the week when I show off some of the lovely eats I had while travelling.
Today we’re having a cuppa in Peru.
From top to left: Anis (Anise), anise, herba luisa (lemon verbena), te puro (black tea), manzanilla (chamomile)
While in Arequipa, Peru, I studied Spanish at a language school for two weeks. I stumbled upon EDEAQ through Google. It’s a great place to learn Spanish since they have 1-on-1 lessons that are much cheaper than the group lessons I had in Buenos Aires.
At EDEAQ, there is one tea break between the morning classes. After the tea break, you switch to another teacher.
During the tea break, I discovered that Peruvians drink a lot more types of tea than other places I’ve been to. (Even in China, I don’t think they bring out such choices of tea.)
These tea taste weird for my palate. I feel that anise should only belong in cooking but they drink it in Peru (and probably other places around the world!) Hierba luisa reminds me of lemongrass while manzanilla tastes like regular chamomile.
There was another very exciting tea that I had in Peru. That is coca tea (mate de coca). This tea is very useful for altitude sickness and motion sickness (not that it helped when I was on the bus to Nasca since I threw up as soon as the liquid hit my stomach.)
What makes this tea exciting is that it is made from coca leaves which is the same ingredient used in making cocaine. But this does not mean that every traveller sipping from coca tea bags are on drugs.
A cup of coca tea prepared from one gram of coca leaves (the typical contents of a tea bag) contains approximately 4.2 mg of organic coca alkaloid. (In comparison, a line of cocaine contains between 20 and 30 milligrams.)
When I was growing up, I loved video games. I was envious of boys whose parents bought them game consoles. My dad didn’t believe in letting girls play video games.
To work my way around this, I played video games on the PC. My dad still complained but at least I had something to play with.
After I started work, I played a lot more video games on the PC thanks to my colleagues introducing me to Steam.
Playing for the story
Most of the time, the games I play don’t require a lot of skills. I usually cheat by checkout play-throughs. For me, the best part about video games is the story.
I mindlessly leveled up as I immersed myself in the virtual environment. It is really great being the hero and accomplishing all those feats without leaving my chair.
I didn’t realize how video games helped with travelling until some years ago. I discovered that video games had given me an indispensible skill for travelling:
I became good at reading maps and visualizing directions.
How video games helped build my sense of direction
For me, the video games I played usually need my character to explore different locations. Sometimes there are maps for reference, such as this map system in Bioshock Infinite which is a favorite game of mine because of the storyline Other times, there would be fan-made maps for n00bs like me to use.
What is great about video games is that only only do you get to explore a location in-game, you can sometimes zoom out to see where you are in the bigger picture.
Through these virtual environment, I’ve also started visualizing space better. For example, if you ask me for directions to my house, my brain brings up a mental map (like in video games) and I can retrace my steps in this map and give good directions.
Of course, this skill doesn’t really work when I’m plonked down into a new city. Since there is no compass hanging on the upper right hand side of my vision (like in video games), I often end up in exactly the opposite direction of where I should go.
These days, I haven’t been playing video games much since my PC isn’t really made for the more advanced games. But still, I miss the days when I helped my in-game character fulfill his/her/its destiny and finish the story.
While in El Salvador’s supermarket looking for souvenirs, I found these interesting chocolate cubes (cylinder?). It was pretty cheap, about 50 cents each.
I bought four of them, imagining that I would have hot mugs of warm cocoa when I get back.
When I did make a batch at home, it turned out disgusting. I dissolved one cylinder in a mug of hot water. The liquid was pale brown like mud and smelled like burnt rubber.
[Hi, before you continue, I have to warn you that this is is a rather TMI (too much information) post. It has the most concentration of the word “naked” out of all my posts. In case you are curious, I’ve used the world “naked” before.
You are welcomed to imagine whichever person you want to see naked while reading the post, if that makes you feel better. You have been warned.]
One of the things you need to do in Turkey is to get a Turkish bath at a Turkish bath (hammam). For those aren’t sure what a Turkish bath is, it’s a bath where someone–hopefully Turkish for an authentic experience–scrubs you really hard with a loofah and let you lie for a short period of time on warm tiles.
Yes, you pay someone to scrub you in the nude.
The last time I let anyone bathe me was when I was a kid and didn’t have full control over my limbs.
I’m not usually a shy person when it comes to bathing matters. After spending a bit of time in Japan, I am comfortable with walking around naked in Japanese and Taiwanese onsens. But getting someone to rub my body with a loofah is probably a test of my limits.
Even though I have Turkish bath on my to-do list, my mom who was travelling with me in Turkey wasn’t keen at all. She’s the type who get squeamish in onsens so I understand that. In the end, I have to visit the baths on my own.
According to my research (reading loads of mixed reviews on Tripadvisor), there were a few baths around my hotel area. I eyed two and started looking for them.
I found Cagaloglu Bath’s side door after a long walk up and down Istanbul’s slopes. Fortunately, it was also the ladies’ side door. Entering the entrance, I passed by a poster of Kate Moss posing on some tiles before the screen that divided the bath and the outer world.
1,000 Places to See Before You Die
A long poster hanging on the second floor told me that it was one of the “1000 Places To See Before You Die”. That probably means that I’ll be paying for a lot of ambience too.
The little court had a few marble tables and stools. There were a lot of ladies sitting around looking bored. They wore the uniform white polo t-shirt and some brown pants.
I asked the lady at the counter for the price. Looking at the chart, I did a quick calculation and realized that it was quite out of my budget. But I already had my feet in the compound and I feel compelled to sign up for a session even though it would mean less lunch for me. I chose the cheapest package that included a scrubbing session.
Counter Lady said I could pay later and shouted to one of the ladies. The woman who answered reminded me of Rebel Wilson.
I was shown to a room and told to change. The room had a sleazy look to it. A bed with a plastic-like dark green fabric was pushed against the wall. A small dresser with a feedback form was next to the bed.
The room had a glass window which was frosted on the bottom half to protect the modesty of whoever was inside. Not that we need any modesty since we would be buck naked in the sauna room anyway.
So I changed out of my clothes and wrapped a towel around myself. Since I was paying a night’s worth of a hostel stay, I wore my glasses so that I could admire the marble hammam. But as I closed the door, Rebel pointed to my glasses and mimed taking them off. So much for getting my eye worth of the hammam.
I was told to wear clogs and I shuffled like some Ch’ing dynasty lady with lotus feet. Rebel helped by grabbing my arm and steadying me.
I walked with blurred vision, passing an empty chamber before going into the hammam itself. Rebel brought me to the round stage-like marble place and slapped the surface. I interpreted that as asking me to lie down.
So I lied down on the warm marble and tried to relax. It was a bit difficult because the marble is hard. Being half blind without glasses didn’t help with my experience. Everything on the ceiling looked like a blurry bouquet of lights as the sun streamed through some of the circles on the roof.
Roof of a hammam. It was prettier inside the bath.
After a while, I flipped myself over like a piece of steak to warm the front of my body (while covering my backside with my towel). My neck twisted uncomfortably as I rested my cheek on the marble. I didn’t know I have cheekbones until the marble pressed against them.
I tried counting how long I was told to grill myself. It didn’t seem very long before Rebel appeared. She was armed with a loofah mitten and a bucket.
She flipped me around so I was facing the ceiling again. With a bit of warm water sloshed on me, she began her car polishing moves. Every inch of my skin was scrubbed.
Halfway during the scrub, Rebel grabbed my hand so I could feel the bunch of dirt that she had scrapped off me. There seemed to be a crazy amount of dead skin on me. I thought back the times that I had showered and wondered why there weren’t as much dead skin.
Then I was flipped over like a burger patty. My back, backside and legs were scrubbed. When all was done, Rebel patted my shoulder and escorted me to the shower area.
The shower area is basically a corner of the hammam. The bath lady waits for the pail to fill with warm water before giving you a good shampoo.
When I was lying down on the tiles, it was OK for me to close my eyes and not look at what Rebel the Bath Lady was doing to my body. But now that we were standing up, I awkwardly looked at the top of her head.
As Rebel finished my shampoo, I saw her give my body a look and give a nod. I felt it was an approving nod, or wasn’t it. I wasn’t sure what to do so I awkwardly smiled at Rebel instead. Then I was wrapped in a towel and shooed back into the room.
Back in the brothel-like room (where no one gave me a “happy ending”), I counted my coins for Rebel’s tip. My notes were too large and luckily my coins were just enough for tip.
I shuffled out of the “1000 Places To See Before You Die”, feeling sparkling clean but strangely molested.
I later discovered that the ladies’ entrance I went into was a dwarf compared to the real entrance which was very beautiful. I felt cheated that I wasn’t asked to leave from the main entrance.
Read more about other people paying to get scrubbed by strangers:
Among reasons that people do not want to travel alone is that they are afraid that they will be lonely.
However, as an introvert hovering between being an ISFP and INFP, “loneliness” isn’t something that I’m afraid of while on the road. In fact, I do my very best to stay away from people which doesn’t make me a very sociable person.
Despite my lack of thought about being lonely while on the road, there were some occasions when I did feel lonely during my trip last year. Oddly, in those situations I wasn’t alone but the sense of loneliness was there.
YQtravelling 