We pulled into Trujillo. I swerved through traffic still buzzing from the trickery we had inflected on an unexpecting gas station attendent. Over the last three weeks, we have lamented over the fact that we were quickly running out of Ecuadorian propane. We sent the girls out, demanding they kept a straight face. The confused Peruvian propane expert scratched his head examining the Ecuadorian fuel lodge. On the bus the gentelmen struggled to keep our doubts in order. We watched as he opened the steel gate and traded the empty Ecuadorian tank, which no other Peruvian propane expert would take, for a full Peruvian tank. The girls ran back to the bus, I dropped the clutch, hit the gas and crawled forward. With our recently aquired Peruvian propane canister and a 20 liter water we scrermed out of the gas station.
As I dodged the kamakaze mototaxies, we pulled into an unexpecting magical corner. It was adorn with panaderias, bicicletas, ferreterias and most perdominantly a car audio shop.
Matthais and I casually strolled over the black and white square titles. All I really needed was six meters of wire, to be used to rewire the bus so I could install the stereo. We were quickly accomodated by the english speaking proprietor Miguel. As his technician ran over our bus with his amp meter, we discussed where we were from and what we were doing in South America.
Matthais and I began to salivate like childern in an ice cream parlor. Speakers, amps, subs, lights, decks and every car accessory known to man sat shimmering behind the glass. Curiosity soon got the best of us and we began to ask about prices. Price quoting soon led to comparison of watts and sound quality. My stomach fluttered as we speculated what it would be like to actually have music on the G-Train.
The technician came back to us with alarming news. The bus was wired for 24 amps, our stereo is only 12 amps. As we bent over the battery examining the options Miguel told us with the cost of the wire he would include installation. We gratefully accepted and went back into the shop to ponder what it would take to make the Gypsy Train sing.
Meanwhile the seemingly ordinary corner began to produce miracles.
Zach appeared from around the corner sipping a ginger ale and jingling a new set of keys. Alaena knelt down next to the stove maestro twisting and turning the fuel regulator gracefully applying tape until it stopped leaking. Marta played with different letterings in preperation to tattoo the Gypsy Train with our motto "Werdafukawi". Excitement buzzed through the air, Matthais and I grew drunk with it. We looked at each other knowing exactly what we needed to do. Without deliberation, we decided on a set of four mid-grade Pioneer speakers.
Miguel assured us the process would take only an hour, but we knew better. Over the course of our travels, we have learned not to waste any opportunity to charge our electronics. To the average Peruvians it must have looked like we were millionaires. My I-pod dangled from Alaena's laptop. Martas camera dangled from her neck like a rappers prized diamond necklace, not only did we own a bus but it was getting a new sound system and the Gypsies walked around, downing cold drinks, icecream, pastries just to kill the time. We generally always draw a crowd and this ordeal was no exception.
Before the speakers were out of their plastic wrap, two technicians were unscrewing the bus. They yelled back and forth while checking wire currents, the two front 6's were screwed in and soon we were listening to the technician's Outlaw Country cd. After some deliberation they decided that it was necessary to rewire the rear 6x9s. Miguel checked with us to make sure that 3 extra dollars for wire was okay and soon after our 6x9s were comforty home under the back seats.
The Gypsies grew overly excited and felt we needed to party. Kate, a Gypsy we picked up in Mancora, was leaving the Train in the morning. We now had music. Bottles of rum have been swilled around a warm campfire with far less to celebrate. Mike appeared carrying a crate of beer. Soon after, Marta and Alaena skipped up smilling, holding a bag filled with rum. We had all the ingredients for a party.
Overall it could have been one of the most productive days the Gypsies have had. We aquired a new water tank, now have spare keys, a Peruvian propane tank to power of now operating stove, the Train got a Tattoo and we now can listen to music as we cruise through South America.
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