one percent.

The medicine man kept walking in silence. He let Gary think. The only thing that could be heard were footsteps and labored breathing. Then a few minutes later he spoke again.
'Thing is, your people have finally come as far as they can with machines. Yet it solved nothing. So now, more people then ever are coming for the resources that lie in two places.' He put his right hand over his heart, and then covered his head with his left. 'You can have all the money in the world, but if you haven't learned the ways of the heart, the ways of the mind, you are more poor then the poorest beggar in lima.'
Gary nodded his head in agreement. 'I hear what you are saying. I apologize for the ignorance of my people. But I can only apologize so much.'
Juan continued. 'I learned the ways of the world. Your people put me through their schools. Some considered me a techno shaman. Because I am adept at both worlds. The ancient and the modern. Both have not eluded me. There are things I may choose to show you that will make you stronger. But I do not trust you yet. I had a friend from the west who taught me the phrase, 'respect is earned.' He did not earn it from me. Nor have you. I will teach you somethings. But I will pull away if I feel integrity waning.'
Gary felt a knot of dissapointment churning in his stomach. 'Did we not have the agreement to complete initiation? The mimosahuasca ritual? Did you forget your promise?'
Juan stomped a foot into the ground. 'I said in good faith. This is what I told your masters. You do not want this experience without working for it first. It is up to you whether you will count the cost, and finish what you've started.'
Gary was livid internally but was not about to argue with Juan. He would save his anger for a telephone call to his superiors. He was beginning to hate this so called medicine man. What had he done to earn his derision? He had already renounced his old ways of materialism. Now he was risking his life to go out into the jungle with whom he was now beginning to consider a half wit. He was not about to apologize for being reared in a callous culture- he had worked too hard to overcome the mistakes of his own people.
'Don't be a hypocrite. If you want me to respect where you came from you should respect what I've gone through to understand you, and to make reparations-'
'No more talking.'
'Excuse me?'
With that, Juan pointed the opposite direction from where they were walking, to where the sun was beginning to set. 'GO BaCK NOW,' he firmly said.
'What?'
'Go back to your land. This was a big misdeed on my part. I thought we had a better comprensivo. I thought you were further advanced on the true path.'
Gary crossed his arms. They both stood their ground for a moment, staring into each other's weather beaten faces. The fierce eye contact these men made with each other was strong, neither one giving over to yielding. Without breaking focus, Juan touched his shoulder, and said, 'if you come, no more speaking until morning.'
Gary was even more livid but kept his composure. He had no choice at this point.

Coming down the mountain.

The medicine man didn't speak for a while. Neither did Gary Friday. He was entranced by the beauty of this region. He felt bitter about the progressive americanization of a country he had once loved escaping to. It was more convenient now. There were trains up to tourist sights that used to be attainable by hard core trekking or uneasy bus trips. He even noticed that his old favorite Cafe in Cusco, ayullo de cusco, had been replaced by starbucks. Was it selfish of him to want a place to escape to? He wondered what the medicine man thought about it.
Several minutes went by and there was a silent hush between Gary and the medicine man. Then the medicine man stopped in front of a small patch nicandra physalodes, or 'apple of peru' flowers. He sniffed one of them. Then he looked up at Gary.
'Your people have created a lot of change for us,' he said, as if reading Gary's mind. Gary nodded silently. He had nothing to add. He just wanted to listen to this man. 'When I was a young man, your people began to come here looking for wisdom. Some of them found what they were looking for, and some of them didn't.' He paused for a second, and gazed across the mountains. 'There has been damage done. But only a certain amount of damage. Our people will persevere. These mountains, too, will survive.'

Too much of nothin'

'Too much of nothin' just makes a fella mean-' Bob Dylan.
'Too much stuff makes a person confused.'- Robert James.

He loaded the rest of the boxes inside of his small apartment. Then he sat on his bed
and thought a minute. He realized he didn't need most of his stuff. all of the journals in one box had already been transferred into his online blog. He got up and opened one of the boxes, pulled out his passport, birth certificate, and hard drive for his computer. He opened up another box, pulled out a few toiletries, pens, books, underwear and socks, and one towel, and threw it into a pile near his bed.
He had previously seen a thrift store donation spot about a block from his new dwelling. He needed a little bit of exercise anyways. He had about 3 containers of stuff that could be donated, the rest could be trashed. So after a short walk and a visit to his trash chute down the hall, he returned to his room, casually smiling. The cowbell had been removed from his neck.

a room at the heartbreak hotel- downtown.

Robert made his way up to the 7th story of an old building downtown. His new room was very small. 300 square feet to be exact. Room 707 was smaller then the room he grew up in, smaller then most of the hotel rooms he experienced on tour. But he didn't mind. He had his futon and computer, and a 5 gallon jug of filtered water. He couldn't have felt happier with anything more.
He opened his laptop and wrote, "I feel as if i'm in a zen monastery. absolute freedom, the sky is the limit for me." Then he closed it and sprawled out on his futon. Gazing at the ceiling, he realized he had enough entertainment in his own mind to last a while. He wouldn't be needing a television. He drifted off into a catnap only to be startled an hour later by the doorbell.
Looking through, his keyhole, he saw the movers had arrived. He opened the door.
"Hey, how's it going? I almost forgot all about my stuff." He grinned and shook the mover's hand, who had a badge that read Rodger. The man shook his hand back but didn't make eye contact. "
"We only got about twelve boxes, it shouldn't take too long," he said.
Rodger began to load boxes into the room with a dolly.
"Need help with that?" Robert kindly asked. Rodger hesitated a second and looked up surprised. He was about to say no thanks but shrugged and affirmatively shook his head.
"Th-that would be nice," he stammered.
Robert went out into the hall and saw his boxes piled one on top of the other. His large television sat separate from the boxes. He was about to stoop down and pick it up. Then a moment of inspiration struck him.
"Rodger, do you need a t.v.?" He asked.
"W-well, we're not supposed to do that," he stammered politely.
Robert winked at him. "I ain't gonna tell noone."
Rodger shrugged again. "My wife would like that, i'll bet."
"It's yours." There was three storage containers with his vintage clothes. "Hey Rodger, you got any kids?"
"Yeah, my youngest, he's graduating from high school."
"Might he like some cool duds?"
"Duds?"
"Clothes."
Rodger looked down at his shoes. He really hit the jackpot this time. "W-well, he might really like that, I reckon."
"I'll help you carry that stuff back to your truck. This-" he pointed at the rest of the boxes. 'I'll get that. Don't worry about it."
"Th-thanks, man." Robert scooped up the 3 boxes of clothes and the t.v. and walked Rodger down to his truck. Rodger did his best to look him in the eye for a couple of seconds. "I really appreciate that. I'm not used to people being so nice to me."
Robert whipped out a twenty dollar bill and gave it to him for a tip. Rodger hesitated.
"I won't tell nobody," said Robert with a wink. Rodger accepted the tip and was on his way.

One more cup of coffee before i go.

He knew that drinking the coffee wasn't the wisest idea.It probably would have been more advantageous for him to skip the caffeine and sleep on the short flight. But the caffeine had become part of his ritual. Not an addiction as much as a comfort. He leaned back into his chair and thought about his children. They weren't children any more. His youngest was in his 20s, already a force in the rock and roll world to be reckoned with. It was surreal the heights to which he had achieved so at so young an age. He was proud of his son but they maintained an ambivalent relationship. There was respect, but too much pride on both sides to really bond. and where was the time? 'Maybe after I retire,' he thought,' I'll see them more.'

What exactly did they want him to find out about this old man?

That's what confused him. Try as he may he had a hard time coming to terms with the ambiguity of the duty set before him. He would be recording every nuance, all conversation, and going over it with a fine tooth comb. He made a vow to himself that after retirement, he would go back on to this land without any electrical devices on his person. But for now, he had a job to do. Finishing the thick tar like coffee that he had bought on the side of the road 30 minutes earlier, he tossed the cup into the small trashcan and boarded the plane.

Because

he possessed virtues that nobody else on the team had. Well, at least not in the amounts that he did. Namely, integrity.
Gary believed that without integrity life couldn't work. He had experimented on himself in his own life. Breaking his own moral codes periodically just to see what would happen, as if he could measure hypothesis after hypothesis through witnessing what worked and what didn't.