Canyon Colca, Peru, Three-day trekking, August, 2019:
Known as the second deepest canyon in the world (not the first since it skipped one too many lessons in Jewish philosophy), my tremendous arrogance becoming increasingly clear every step carrying the redundant 16 kilograms with each moment of descent and ascent (which were equally physical as well as spiritual), ultimately arriving at the canyon’s lowest point (which felt like a perfect metaphor for my sense of self at that moment). This was accompanied by complete devastation of my back, knees, and fake hiking shoes, which were cheaply bought in Israel’s most obscure trekking equipment store “Gali Odaphim”.
Two hours into the second day, I was surprised to discover the small black puppy I played with at the camp the night before. He appeared to be following every step energetically and enthusiastically. Concerned he’ll get lost on the track’s cliffs, I effortfully attempted to force him to return back to camp. Making the face of an angry parent scolding a son, with some soft physical violence on the side, I believed there to be no other choice. This was despite the inevitable sympathy I felt upon watching the non-proportional yet adorable combination between constant jolliness and size – he was after all, nothing but a skipping block of fur with a big nose.
So it was, in relentless persistent unjustified devotion, the dog kept marching, matching every step I made, freezing every time I looked back as a 5 year-old playing “green light, red light”. An hour passed playing this game I never agreed to participate in, until finally, with a conflicted heart, I allowed him to accompany me, as a fellow traveler by my side. Never having the capacity to show any sign of affection, no matter how I felt. Near the end, this love-hate relationship awarded him the name of “Donkey”, after Eddie Murphy’s memorable character who was similarly initially rejected, but soon later becoming the real star of all 4 films.
So I continued, walking through shaky bridges, also reminiscent of the first Shrek movie with their level of security, not to mention the narrow cliffs, whilst an excited puppy kept running between my feet. Soon I began whistling Monty python’s “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” with a heart as heavy as my mochila, picturing a little too seriously my funereal’s background playlist. Though knowing deep down such a thought was ridiculous. Because, after all, my satellite phone was not functioning, meaning the finding of my body would be delayed together with any song request. So surely my sister, Naomi, who was always so critical of my taste in music, would seize the opportunity to put some “All You Need is Love” resulting in the entire ceremony turning into an undercover pride parade (not that there’s anything wrong with that).
After 3 long strenuous days, I ascended back to the small Peruvian village, Cabanaconde, which marked the starting and finishing point of my circuit. There was no sense of satisfaction nor pride nor achievement that I was able to return thanks to some “determined soul” within, assisted only by two legs and a walking stick. Yet, there really was a difference upon returning: the soles of my shoes were torn in half and there was a beautifully formed shape of red dots on my upper back. These helped to reinforce the acceptance of a new sense of humility of a nature that was necessarily unfortunate yet comfortingly silent.
The simultaneously loved yet hated puppy, or rather Donkey remained fast asleep on the first break I took to rest in the village. Finally demonstrated just how utterly exhausted he was from the long walking and strong tiring sun. This I knew to be a rare opportunity of escape, so quickly and efficiently I disappeared before the poor faithful Donkey would discover my absence. This was undoubtedly a necessary consequence of the crashing set of circumstances, knowing myself to be too cheap to spend more Peruvian soles purchasing him a bus ticket back to Arequipa.
Attempting to console myself I began nostalgically remembering key moments of our short-lived love affair, together alone in the silence of the painful canyon. Now at least, I thought, after his thousands of meters journey out of the canyon and into civilization, he will find new freedom. That is, the freedom to follow any arrogant fool with an improvised walking stick he may find on the way.