[Above: Statues in the old colonial city wall of Cusco, where we were based while taking sponsor photos in the surrounding countrside.]

Journal by Justin Mounts

Do you ever spend time wondering about how you are perceived by others around you? If you’re like me, chances are you do. First impressions can often swing the balance of an encounter from being a good experience or a bad one. There are many times and situations on the expedition that make me sit back and wonder how the people we interact with feel about our presence in their country. While it is true that we are traveling the world for 9 months with a balance of altruism and exploration, at the end of the day we always have an equal potential to be perceived as an ugly 9-headed American monster rolling into town as we do a friendly group of volunteers that are trying to broaden our horizons and make new friends. It is a fulltime job balancing curiosity and exploration with intrusion and perceived mayhem.

Who are we in the eyes of the people we meet? This is always a good question, but one that doesn’t always have a good answer…

The last few days of the expedition have been spent in Cusco, Peru tending to our business responsibilities, including maintaining our sponsor relationships. Today we are loading up the team to scout out a photo shoot location to take advantage of the incredible scenery around Cusco and Machu Picchu. Our goals are simple—find a location and shoot as many photos as we can. As we drove out of Cusco, we came back to a long valley full of small buildings, farms, and lush green pastures. Quite simply, one of the most breathtaking sights we’ve seen so far. We found a small road leading toward a cluster of buildings on a local farm, and we pulled up to the main building to ask the farmer if it was all right for us to use a small section of his land for our photos. As he approached the lead car, he had an expression of curiosity mixed with confusion. By the time he walked far enough to see all four Land Rovers lined up, his expression changed to complete and utter bewilderment. Neil, our best Spanish speaker, leaned out of the rear window of his vehicle, introduced himself, and began to explain the situation to the man. The man, very polite and friendly, said he was pleased to meet us, but apologized that he didn’t feel his land would work for our purposes. Apparently, the short stretch of land we drove across to talk to him was about the only area accessible for photos. He recommended that we continue to the northeast to a road that would lead us further into the valley and to an area that he assured us was much more beautiful than his patch of land.

Excited by this suggestion, we headed back out to the road and continued on our way. While we never found the exact road the farmer mentioned, we did find another road that took us off toward a small village and a tiny plateau that was perfect for our needs. As we completed setting up the vehicles and gear for the photos, a few people approached us from the village, including a diminutive old man, who was very friendly and greeted us each with a hug and kind words. Our understanding was that this was his land, and he was happy to let us use it for photo purposes. As all this was going on, a small crowd of people from the village walked over and sat down on a ridge to witness the gringos locos (crazy gringos) who rolled into town. For the record, none of us really knew what the old man said or even what language he was speaking. We know it wasn’t Spanish or Quechan, and the other villagers laughed to themselves as he made the rounds hugging us. I think he was drunk. Regardless, as a village elder, we paid him the utmost respect. And I don’t want to give you the wrong impression—he was a hell of a nice man. He probably had no idea what we were saying to him and probably not much of an idea as to what we were doing on his land, but he welcomed us with open arms—literally.

As we began to take our photos, the crowd continued to grow, now including approximately a dozen adults and nearly twice as many kids—all sitting on the ridge, quietly observing us in their natural habitat. I noticed that there was one woman and a child who stood separate from the group of villagers. At no time did they approach us or the other group of people and at no time did the other group of people approach them. Given how friendly this group of villagers was, it seemed very odd to me that there was absolutely no interaction with this lone woman and her son. When we asked why she was more or less being avoided, the villages responded simply, “She’s from another village.” In not so many words, there is a clan mentality that exists among many villages in Latin America. So, while people from many clans or villages may be near each other, they do not interact with each other. Period.

As dusk rapidly closed in around us and the temperature began to drop, the villagers began to disperse. However, in exchange for coming into their village for our photos, we had supplied all, both young and old, with Red Bull drinks and miniature Hella keychain lights. Normally, I am not completely comfortable with brief interactions like this with the indiguenas (indigenous people) simply because it seems inappropriate under any context to roll into town, take photos of people, hand them a small gift, then load up and leave. Interactions like this bring me back to my original question, “Who are we?” As global travelers, “How audacious we are?” Do our interactions with people alienate them from future travelers with as much ease as this group of Peruvians alienate a woman and child from another village?

Living in the San Francisco area, I have interacted with more than my share of tourists. Some are good. Some are bad. On the flip side, when you are the visitor, you will always encounter people who hate tourists or who are begging for money, or who just do things that annoy you. These experiences can sour the overall joy you get from traveling if you let it get to you. But being conscious of how that first interaction goes is key. Most people that we meet are friendly and care about who we are and what we are doing. The same way we care about not intruding too much in their lives. The same way that we have no desire to cause problems anywhere we go, and that we are driven largely by curiosity. Not only are we curious about the towns we visit, but also we are genuinely interested in the people who live there. Through each interaction, I continue to make new friends.

So, where does that leave me—still searching for the answer to my question, I guess. I am finding that sometimes the more we ask a question, the less we have a chance to actually find the answer. But I do know when I watched the children of the village walk home arm in arm lighting the way with their key chain lights, they looked like fireflies disappearing into the night, and it was probably an encounter they will remember for the rest of their lives. Just like I will.

Logbook for January 10th, Day 71
Start: Cusco, Peru
N: 13* 31.017'
W: 71* 58.835''
Finish: Cusco, Peru
N: 13* 31.017'
W: 71* 58.835''
Mileage: 040
Notes: Today we had an evening photo shoot to get some good shots of our team for the companies who provided us with equipment, services, or monetary support. We drove out of town and found a nice grassy area near the dilapidated foundation of an old farmhouse. We set up the Hannibal Tents and pulled out all our equipment to simulate what it looks like when we are in camp. All the villagers came out to see what the crazy gringos were up to. Pretty soon, the entire village was there, including old men and very small children. We had a blast talking to them and showing them our stuff, and we even got several photos with them for sponsors such as Red Bull and Hella. Tomorrow we'll have one more photo shoot and then we'll take a trip to Machu Pichu! (N.O.)

Help support our cause: The LONGITUDE Expedition is the longest journey ever attempted with a focus on Parkinson's Disease. The Drive Around the World team aims to raise money for Parkinson’s Disease research by driving four certified pre-owned Land Rover Discoverys around the globe following lines of longitude. Readers are encouraged to pledge small amounts of money per expedition-kilometer via a pledge form that can be found on our Parkinson’s page by clicking here. 100% of donations received go directly to Parkinson's research and all who donate $10 or more will be entered into a raffle to win an expedition-equipped Land Rover Discovery.