Sufficiently Soaked

A short story written by Brad Van Wert and I (mostly Brad :) about our recent adventure trekking through the Cordillera Blanca. I'll post it chapter by chapter throughout the week. Enjoy!!

5,000 Years Old

According to Wikipedia...

     "Caral was inhabited between roughly 2600 BCE and 2000 BCE, enclosing an area of more than 60 hectares. Caral was described by its excavators as the oldest urban center in the Americas. Accommodating more than 3,000 inhabitants, it is the best studied and one of the largest Norte Chico sites known."

Brad and I so happened to stumble upon this 5,000 year old site in the middle of the Peruvian dessert...

We went to the town of Huacho to spend New Years on the beach and enjoy the sun because we were chilled by the rain in the mountains during our Christmas trek (story soon to come). We spent the New Year's Eve eating fresh ceviche by the port, sitting on the shore while the waves crashed and watching the fireworks simultaneously explode as the clock struck midnight.  

The next day we hired a taxi to drive us out into the desert to this so-called Caral place and walked through the pyramids and ruins of a civilization that lived there almost 5,000 years prior. The history was incredible but even more intriguing was the location; in the middle of a hot, dry, sandy desert. We couldn't help but wonder the reason behind the location and how a society functioned in such harsh conditions. This was one of the first societies in America and its inhabitants established a societal structure and way of urban planning that was followed by many civilizations to come. By far the richest history either of us had ever experienced, we were shocked that this was the first time we had ever even heard of the site. Not only were the pyramids an impressive historical feat, but the entire society was operating around the same time as the pyramids of Egypt. It was absolutely fascinating, to say the least.

Familiar Faces in Foreign Places

Meeting Brad in Lima was such a wonderful feeling. To see a familiar face in a foreign country is a wonderful slice of home when traveling abroad.

We spend two days wondering around Lima and exploring the huge, chaotic, diverse, and bustling city. According to some critics, the food of Lima has "surpassed the cuisine of Paris." 

We had fun trying some different restaurants in the city and stumbled upon very delicious ceviche and gourmet creations. We walked to the beach and watched the surfers in the break. The smooth black stones rolled and made a wonderful sound every time the water crashed on the shore, stumbling and rolling when the water receded.

Exploring the urban area was neat but in the end we decided it was very similar to any other metropolis and we had had our fill. 

We were ready to surround ourselves in some of the world's largest and most beautiful mountains, the Andes.

Islas Urcos

The floating Islands of Lake Titicaca. 75 floating islands made of totora reeds floating in the worlds highest lake where hundreds of people live and have been living for thousands of years. How could a tourist not want to see such a thing? 

I now know the answer to that question.

Everything about our tour made me feel uncomfortable. 

For starters, it was all very artificial. Our boat pulled up to the first floating island and handed some money out the window to the islanders as they all simultaneously greeted us in their native tongue. We disembarked on the island of reeds and sat in a circle as we were taught how the islands were made. Undeniably, this was very fascinating but our guide was just barking commands at the islanders and making them speak their native tongue though they were very obviously fluent in Spanish.

The next thing that bothered me was the societal structure that I curiously inquired about. I was talking with the 20 year old president of the small community, Johnathan. He informed us that they usually get married around 14 or 15 years old and those who do not have enough money to go to school stay on the island. I asked his wife who was sitting in the doorstep how old she was and she shyly looked away as her husband spoke for her. She was 18. I asked if he likes tourism and if he thinks it has a positive impact on the island and his response was as if he were programmed to say yes. Of course, without tourism these islands would have no source of income. 

We then were supposed to walk into their houses (also made of totora reeds) and try on their clothes. This felt extremely uncomfortable because it seemed invasive. It all seemed artificial as well because when my friend asked what they do when it rains, they informed us that they just drape some plastic over their roof.

Later, we were asked if we wanted to take the "traditional reed boat" (the pontoons were stuffed with tarps and plastic bottles) to another island. Little did we know, we had to pay and board the boat even if we didn't want to. As we were being towed across the water, the little children all sang songs to us. Our guide, once again, was treating them as though they were monkeys. Raising his arms in the air, conducting them. "Look!" He said, "They can sing in English too! Ladies! Sing! Louder!" 

I had had enough at this point but when the kids finished singing they swarmed us and asked for coins, fighting over each other. In one minute, the cute little children had completely changed and it was terrifying to see such greed in such little beings. To look into the small girl's eyes was heart breaking. The innocence in her pupils stared at my sad eyes; I was completely aware of this little girl's future.

The whole tour was disturbing and I'm still not exactly sure how to feel about it all. On one hand, everything I saw- the exploitative nature of the tour guides and companies, the poverty, the insincere "act", the apparent patriarchy- it all contradicted my personal beliefs and opinions. On the other hand, I feel confused because I am in no position to judge a culture. Who am I to say what is right and what is wrong? 

(This is a photo of a photo but I think it captures the mood well)

Navidad Abroad

Last week we celebrated Christmas in our school. It is always strange to celebrate holidays like this in places without snow and or pine trees however, the sparkly plastic singing tree that we set up in the school was pretty special to say the least. We decorated it´s synthetic branches with llama ornaments and flashing lights.
Each spanish class prepared a different dish and at the end of the night we had a multi-cultural feast, making a toast with a glass of pisco sour or chicha morada, classic peruvian drinks.
Being my first Christmas away from home, it made me feel a bit nostalgic but I was very grateful to have some celebration and to be surrounded by so many new friends from all over the world. 

El Camino a Urquillos

My friend Lotte and I woke up early this morning to go on a proper adventure for our day off of school. 

We ate breakfast and set out in city, looking for a street called Pavitos. Once we found the street, we also found the cars and buses and vans that take people anywhere and everywhere in the surrounding area. We asked our driver to take us to Chincheros, and once he dropped us off on the side of the road in this foreign village, all we knew was that we needed to somehow find el camino a Urquillos (the trail to Urquillos) a town which, surprisingly, we also knew nothing about. We stopped every few minutes to ask various shopkeepers and pedestrians the way and eventually we found the grassy green trail, el camino a Urquillos.

The trail starts at the base of the plaza of Incan ruins in the city of Chincheros. From there, it winds through farms, forests, mountain passes, herding pastures and villages.

The trail was grassy at first. The entire hillside above was carved out by terraces  of stone; once farming land for the Incans. We climbed up a big rock and admired all the perfectly cut squares missing from the Boulder. Sitting in what looked to be a chair, we pondered if this is a place where they used to make sacrifices to Pacha Mama, Mother Nature. 

We continued down the trail and passed a few people working on their farm, and a few women carefully watching over their goats, pigs, and donkeys as they grazed on the vibrant vegetation.

For a while we saw no one and appreciated the beautiful silence and occasional bird song. It was a stark contrast to the constant city buzz and bumble.

We continued descending the mountain, sometimes walking down stone steps, until we eventually rounded a corner and our eyes immediately met the jagged, snowy-covered peaks across the valley. It was stunning.

At the base of the mountains we spotted a town, quite possibly the one we were going to.

As we finished our descent of the steep mountain, we arrived at the valley floor and met the river below. There, we made a picnic in the grass, where we ate our avocados, bananas and peanut butter. We walked through dozens of small little farms, constantly guessing which type of vegetable was growing. Once, we came to an intersection so we asked a family traveling with their child and donkey the correct way. They kindly pointed down the valley, "el Camino a Urquillos" they said "está por alla."

We continued to follow the river. We walked through a beautiful Eucalyptus forest. With each inhalation, our nostrils were filled with a wonderful aroma and our air-deprived lungs thanked us. 

Eventually we started to enter a village of mud and straw brick houses perched on the side of a mountain. There was a stone canal in the middle of the trail that directed the water to the various 

farms. We walked further until we were around people again and Lotte and I took turns saying "hola" and "buenas Dias" to everyone we passed. We walked through the town, on the dirt road and eventually across a bridge to another town named Huayllabamba. There, we miraculously found a bus back to Quito and gave each other a high-5 to celebrate our victory in navigation. 

Watching out of the bus window, we passed dozens of small farms and villages in the Sacred Valley. There are reasons it is called the Sacred Valley and those reasons become immediately understood upon visiting. 

It was a wonderful adventure in nature. It was as if today, we went back in time.

A Day In The Life

I wake up and take as deep of a breath as my lungs will allow me at this altitude. The air is chilled but refreshing, this mountain air reminds me of home. I finally untuck myself from the heavy stack of alpaca blankets that are piled on top of me. I walk down the open hallway to the kitchen and eat some fruit and a piece of fresh baked bread. After chatting with some of my friends who go to school here, I make some tea, grab my notebook and pen, and seat myself in the small classroom filled with natural light from the ceiling window above. For the next several hours, we have discussions with our teachers and learn about the future perfect tense in Spanish. To keep the lessons interesting, every once in a while our teacher will do a magic trick with his cards or show us a funny video in Spanish. We take a break half way through to drink some mate de coca, a traditional tea made with coca leaves that gives you energy and helps with adjusting to the altitude.

After class is done we disperse to various places until lunch. We eat warm soup, vegetables, pastas, or meats, finishing our meal with more hot tea.

At this point, it is pouring rain outside and beginning to hail. I watch as the rain falls from the different levels of the roof, eventually tumbling off the edge. 

Once the rain has subsided, some friends and I walk down to the plaza and stop at the various shops looking at the beautiful crafts. We stop at a coffee shop then walk up the steep sidewalk to the San Blas district of the city. 

We walk home on the narrow cobblestone streets. Glancing across the way, the women dressed in bright, tradition clothing ask if we want a picture with them and their llama or their baby goat.

For dinner I go out with a different group of friends and a teacher from the school. We walk to a fancy restaurant and stare with wide eyes as they bring out our beautiful plates of Peruvian cusine. We sit and talk about the country with our teacher, practicing our Spanish as we go. 

Later we walk around the Plaza. It's getting late but the park is bustling with life. The lights of the houses stacked in the surrounding hills morph into a painting of blurred, colorful dots.

We walk to a bar and try pisco sours as a band begins to play. It's a famous group from the area and their music is so lively it's impossible not to move your body. The lead singer has long black hair and a big tattoo on his forehead. 

Eventually we wander to a different club and continue dancing until about three in the morning, at which point we decide we should get some rest so we're not too tired for classes later that day. We walk home under the street lights and ring the bell of our school. Raul let's us in and we make our way back to our room. Pulling the heavy alpaca blankets back over my head, I fall into a deep and wonderful sleep. 

Content in Cusco

From the moment I saw the Andes out of the airplane window, I knew this is exactly the place I wanted to be. For some reason, I have always wanted to go to Peru. It was the country I wanted to see the most when I started to plan my gap year so as I watched the huge snowy mountains out of my window, I was struck with disbelief that I was actually here. I felt nostalgic because the mountains reminded me of home but simultaneously I was overwhelmingly happy and excited. I couldn't stop smiling.

It was a wonderful feeling; the feeing that this is exactly where I want to be right now, this is exactly what I want to be doing. It is one of the best feelings and it has been happening more and more frequently lately. 

My eyes were fixed on the landscape the entire plane ride. We landed in Cusco and the energy of the city just got better and better. Granted I haven't spent much time here yet, I know it's a special place and I am very excited to explore the city throughout the coming weeks.