The HEA Cafe

As we all know, a writer’s job is to challenge her characters, put them in impossible situations, and really make them suffer.  That’s how we force them to change and grow.  Well, little did I know when I took a recent research trip to Peru that my experience would challenge me as much as any character in my book.

I went to Peru to do research for the second book of my upcoming miniseries for Silhouette Romantic Suspense (To Protect a Princess, coming Fall 2008).  I didn’t want to stick to the usual tourist routes; I wanted to get off the beaten track and into the remote mountain villages just as my characters do.  So I got the bright idea to spend a week with a medical missionary group working around Ayaviri, a town at nearly 13,000 feet in the Andes Mountains.

Of course, I prepared for the trip.  I read everything I could about Peru, spent weeks planning, packing, gathering supplies.  I got a slew of shots, started taking Diamox, which is a medicine that helps your body acclimate to high altitude.  Unfortunately, none of this helped.

First off, I got sunburned.  Ayaviri is a dusty, treeless place with freezing winds and brutal sun.  And I mean brutal.  My 65 SPF sunblock was useless.  Luckily, someone in our group lent me a hat to wear (I had planned to buy one there, but it turns out that Ayaviri is not exactly the place to shop, unless you are in the market for potatoes and coca leaves).  And October is “springtime” in Ayaviri, which means dressing in several sweaters, a jacket, a wool scarf, hat and gloves.  Night and day.  I froze.  I’ve never worn so many clothes to bed in my life.

And despite the medication, I immediately came down with altitude sickness.  My head throbbed constantly.  My blood oxygen level dipped to a dangerous 71%.  Walking across a room left me gasping and heaving for breath.  One of the doctors in our group had to be hospitalized and put on steroids because the fluids in his brain swelled. I escaped that fate, but the entire week I was there I felt dreadfully weak.

It didn’t help that we were “roughing it” on this trip.  We stayed in a hotel with no heat, no hot water, no towels, soap, toilet paper or mirror.  Electricity was sporadic.  Toward the end of the week, even the water completely shut off.

But like a true heroine, none of this kept me from doing my research.  Each day I staggered around with the group as we went to different villages to set up our medical clinic.  And I got lots of authentic details for my book.  The people in that area are mostly Quechua, descendants of the Inca.  Many don’t speak Spanish.  They grow potatoes and beans, sheep, cattle, alpaca, and pigs.  They live in mud-brick huts with thatched roofs and no running water, electricity, or heat.  Bathrooms consist of holes in the ground.  Women herd animals and hoe potatoes with their babies strapped in blankets on their backs.

The poverty is overwhelming.  Disease (especially caused by parasites) is rampant.  Health care is nonexistent.  Dental care consists of pulling rotten teeth.  Even the children’s cute “rosy” cheeks are thick calluses caused by the damaging sun.

So, obviously, after seeing how they live, I could hardly complain about my temporary deprivations.  So what if I had to do without heat or hot water for a week?  So what if the electricity occasionally went out?  These people went without such necessities their entire lives.

At the end of the week, my husband and I left the medical group and traveled by bus to Cuzco.  My plan was to wrap up my research by touring Machu Picchu, which I have always wanted to see.  We booked a room in a beautiful hotel which felt sinfully luxurious after our week roughing it in Ayaviri.

Unfortunately, fate had further punishments in store for me.  Not only didn’t the altitude sickness subside at the slightly lower elevation, but I came down with a violent case of traveler’s diarrhea — so bad, in fact, that I missed the tour of Machu Picchu.  I spent the entire day sitting by the baño while my husband enjoyed the tour.  I came home ten pounds lighter, and with the depressing knowledge that I lead a spoiled and pampered life.

I’m sad to conclude that I’m probably not heroine material.  If I had to face any of the disasters my characters face in my book, I would not prevail.

But despite everything, the journey really did make me grow and change.  I certainly appreciate such amenities as safe food, hot, clean water, and heat.

Will I do it again?  Maybe.  I’d like to think so.  A real heroine would.  But me?  Hmm… I’ll have to think about that for awhile…

If you’d like to see photos from my adventurous trip, you’ll find them on the EXTRAS page on my website: www.gailbarrett.com.  I hope you’ll take a look!

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