I become a lab rat...

A while back my friend Lenny (she who invited me to the wedding in Ilo) told me about the project she was doing for her thesis in pharmacology. She had a mysterious-looking vial of cream which she said was an experimental skin care product with a base of tuna (an indigenous cactus which grows wild here and has an edible bulb). With visions of possible miraculous rejuvenating properties, I begged to be picked as an experimental subject.

When recently she took me up on the offer, I found the reality was rather different. The cream developed by Lenny and her friend Anyi was to be tested for its sun-filtering ability, along with a gel developed by their pharmacological colleague Cristian. I had to go to the lab at the Católica University and sit on a stool with my shirt off while they shone a focused sunlamp onto my back and measured the time for my skin to turn red when protected by the various products. The reason they were so keen to have me involved was that the whole process is quicker and easier with someone who has pale skin.

For people who've studied an applied science for four years, though, they didn't seem to have learnt much about the rigurous preparation of an experiment. On neither of the two days that I went did they manage to make any successful measurements. The first time they discovered that the stand which supported the sunlamp was too tall, and I had to sit on a pile of textbooks on top of the stool so the light fell in the right place - which got pretty painful after 10 minutes or so. In addition, the holes cut in the boards placed across the lampshade to direct the beam of the lamp were too far apart, meaning that the light fell on different parts of my back, at different distances. The thing that most impressed me, however, was that nobody had brought a tape measure...

The next day I went back, to find that the helpful technician had lowered the stand and changed the position of the holes in the boards, and there was now an available tape measure. We readied for the experiment, focusing the lamp on my back while Lenny tried to draw circles around where the light was falling in order to mark the area to apply each cream. Unfortunately, none of the (biro) pens in the lab made an impression on my skin, and while Lenny was trying to draw the lamp started to get pretty hot. "Don't you guys have, like, a vivid marker?" I asked. "You know, the kind you normally find in a classrooom". All and sundry admitted that such a pen would have been a useful instrument.

As I was leaving the next day for Cuzco, I told Lenny that she'd have to find another subject. The semi-amusing epilogue to the story is that today when showering I caught a glimpse of something on my back as walking away from the mirror. Closer inspection revealed two perfectly circular burn marks, rather bright red, about halfway up my back.

And arrive in Cuzco again...

Without too many hassles, either, despite the 4:30 am arrival time from Arequipa. I spent the morning meeting and greeting people from two tour agencies here who had emailed us at Incaventura saying that many of their customers were interested in doing trips to the Colca Canyon. Hugo has been working with one of them for ages with his German tour groups, but rather surprisingly had never suggested a formal endorsement relationship with his own business...
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The afternoon I ended up doing some translations for a guy who has an exhibition of pre-Incan musical instruments (copies and originals) starting up in Cuzco and wanted to have captions in Quechua, Spanish, English and French. I overheard him asking the guy in the internet cafe how to use the automated translator, and with horror informed him that I couldn't allow that. He was most grateful in the end and although I refused payment, did accpet his offer to come and see his exhibition for free and try some of the instruments when I get back to Cuzco - not sure if I'll have time though.

And tomorrow I'm off on the Inca Trail!! - am most excited. It's been overcast with spots of drizzle in Cuzco, and they say it's raining hard on the trail, but I'm not bothered. Would you believe that in six months I've seen half an hour of rain? That was in Arequipa in July, and it made headlines...

Anyway, I am *so* prepared. This evening I obtained six large plastic bags to wrap my clothes and sleeping bag in - yes, this is me we're talking about... I also have insect repellent, suncream, cap, woolly hat, rain jacket, thermal t-shirts and underwear, torch with spare American-made batteries, gloves and over-gloves, two spare rolls of film - you name it. PPPP, Dad.

It's even possible that the cloudy weather will make for better photographs - it's always difficult in Arequipa struggling with the fierce light contrasts. I'm looking on the bright side - no doubt will update when I get back here wet, bedraggled and tired.