A relaxing first day back at work, Thai food for lunch, a stroll up Museum Mile tonight with four beautiful women, my trip photos online, and an email to the travels list…

Hola,

I’m back in New York, with a rediscovered appreciation for hot showers, good plumbing, and other conveniences my privileged butt generally takes for granted. Before these wonderful muggy streets displace the images of ancient Incan ruins from my mind, I want to write more about my trip. And so, two quick stories from Bolivia…

-Luke

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Snake Vodka in La Paz

One night in La Paz, we walked to a touristy restaurant (huffing and puffing unsatisfyingly shallow high-altitude breaths) that live music and traditional dancing. We only caught the tail end of the performance, but it was nice, and the food was overpriced but fine.

After we finished eating, our waiter came by. He was an stoic, wrinkled, stocky Bolivian man in his fifties, and I got the feeling that bringing by the after-dinner liqueurs was his favorite part of the job. He put three bottles on the table. Anise. Mint. And inside the third bottle, which was twice as large as the other two, a huge green-black snake wound its way through a clear liquid.

I pointed to the large bottle. “Que esta?” I asked.

He looked back and broke his stoic expression with a grin. “Finlandia.”

My mom wanted the thing as far away from her as possible. My brother and sister’s mouths hung slightly agape at the sight before them, their eyes big.

Having braved cobra whiskey with Elbert just a few months back in Bangkok, I felt prepared for our toothy host’s generous challenge. “A shot?” I asked my brother and sister. It’s proof that my dad’s blood runs through our veins that they agreed without another moment of hesitation.

Old Toothy poured us three shots of the snake vodka and we toasted to a lifetime of adventures together as brothers and sister. And we drank up.

[pic] The bus on the boat