When we read history, we only read the victors history. This is the other side of the coin, the real story of what my companion Joshua neglected to mention. Our fun times in Lima were the result not of a gold medal accomplished over three years of academic study, or the publication of absolutely academic and useless directed research studies, but rather the byproduct of a cunning wit, an outrageously lax social filter and my street smarts. Street smarts, which have been continuously undervalued on this trip by the Dean and Dreadlocks.

For example, my travelling partners had insisted on exchanging money at the bank. I knew that a better exchange rate was to be had by the men with vests in Chinatown. Alas, another missed opportunity to have fun was snatched away from me by the academic bourgeousie. My travel partners epitomize naivity. They innocently explained to me that they had played a fair game of battleship on the screens in front of their neighbouring seats on the flight down to Lima. As I patiently later explained to them and with reference to the analogy of a urinal, they both likely stole glances at each others ¨battleship¨. 

Our excellent time in Lima was the direct result of the street smarts that only I bring to the table (Editors note: Peter has misplaced his debit card and an expensive multi entry archaeological ticket).  Our time in Lima was spent with the family of the boyfriend of an american girl who knew the polish girl that I had introduced myself to after blaming her Polish government for expropriating my German grandparents house. Old rivalries die hard. 

Our arrival into Cusco was uneventful, with the family from Peru sending a cousin of theirs to pick us up. Notably however, Alastair´s name recognition at U of C has evaporated in the thin andean air. Peruvian´s have struggled with the pronounciation of his scottish name and even the recognition of his existence. While Josh´s and my name have been pronounced without difficulty, Peruvian´s attempting to pronounce his name have only gotten as far as ¨oww¨, or have even stopped trying to acknowledge his presence. This was made particularly clear when we were met at the airport with a sign reading only ¨Joshua and Peter¨. While his name is on the dean´s list, more importantly it´s not in the Spanish vocabulary.

Our days of travelling through a variety of Incan ruins and learning about agricultural techniques, the general Incan history and their fascinating ruins has been punctuated with imprompto photo shoots directed by Josh. Apparently ¨ omg such a cute view¨ ¨eek get a pic of me with this silly stone¨, ¨pose you two¨ and ¨Incan Duckface SELFIE¨ are all more important than listening to the guide discuss this important world civilization. 

Our next entry will introduce the reader to more vapid instances of Joshua´s picture obsession in Machu Picchu where I am sure we will spend hours choreopographing his pictures and selecting filters for his instagrams. 

OMG, Peter out. 

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