Peru: A Few Observations

More than anywhere else I've been, Peru wears to past and present cultures up front for all to see. They blend well. I would like to present some of my observations.

A Spanish-style church seems to be the central figure and monument in so many towns though there are exceptions. The huge, ornate cathedrals of the big cities are included in prior posts so I present here some of the village churches we stopped to see. So many of them are incredibly ornate on the inside which bothers me when I look at the modest lifestyle of the people who live nearby.

In Ollantaytambo I noticed that several buildings around the square had little bulls on the peaks of their roofs. Mostly there were two bulls, some decorated with what appeared to be weeds but could have been wheat or quinoa. Some of them had their very own beer bottle.  Some were just the bottle with no bull. I was informed that these were to protect the house. Later I was told about the old custom of pouring the local brew on the ground before planting, even before meals, an old, old custom of honoring a god that was the earth.

I loved the colorful costumes of Peru's indigenous peoples. In the cities people dress as they do in cities all over the world but in small towns tradition is worn proudly. The shawls and skirts  vary a little from region to region. The hats were what caught my interest. My favorite is the one that looks like an ornate bowl with an embroidered strap around the chin. This hat is a work of art by itself but some went a step further by filling them with flowers, especially when they want to attract photographers with a little cash.

Right away I noticed so many walls we passed were painted with a name or logo. Bridges were painted; rocks were painted; printouts were pasted in some pretty strange places. Parades of trucks and motorcycles loaded with flag-waving revelers drove around squares and remote stretches of road, tooting their horns, a noisy yet almost musical event.  So I asked and was told of an upcoming election. The candidates gave out little boxes of matches with their names which is a service to so many who still cook with wood. But paint must surely be a candidate's biggest expense.Voting took place on a Sunday and every Peruvian between the ages of 18 and 65 is required to vote, but for those over 65 it is optional. Failure to vote results in a fine the size of which is determined by the economics of the area.

Short Hops

Pisac is a day trip from Cuzco, a small city with a lively street market and an Inca ruin a short hop away. The ruins of Pisac have tombs I hadn't seen before. The locals cross a tiny wooden bridge below the ruins to graze their sheep and send their children to solicit pay for photos or sell macrame bracelets.

The road from Puno to Chivay passed through more desolate high altitude terrain, this time much closer to those snowy peaks. Our bus made a lunch stop in a tiy settlement, more a  square to serve some distant homesteads. The next stop was the high point of the journey, a scenic pullover with a sign anouncing the altitude which was roughly 15,000 feet. for a mile or two ahead and behind it I noticed people had been rock-stacking, creating little or not-so-little pinaclaes to commemorate their presence.

Chivay, with an entry fee of 70 soles, is the gateway to Colca Canyon. It has a market just off the square where I bought frozen yougurt  from one vendor, bread from another and thins slices of meat on a stick with a little potato stuck on the end. A taxi was hired to take us along the canyon rim, such as it is here, and to visit the small towns along it. At one, Cadi, we stopped at a small church and a very drunk man treated us to quite a bell-ringing performance. I was unable go to the town where the 'real' Colca Canyon offers hikes down, donkey rides back up, and condor sightings. I was so disappointed.

Twenty four hours in Arequipa did not offer me much more than a walk around the tourist district, the plaza with its huge cathedral and a museum or two. I did venture the other direction for short walk where small shops dominated. On one stretch, men sat in entryways, repairing shoes with solid, old sewing machines. Another bloack was mostly hardware, yet another offered fabrics, yarns, clothing. I stopped to buy chocolate covered grapes from one vendor but did not buy what looked like boiled quail eggs from her friend.

After an overnight bus trip I spent less than a day in Lima. I wanted to visit a monestary in the old-town tourist district. There is some amazing architecture in that area which is bordered by the business district and, not much further out, very poor neighborhoods such as only big cities have. No wonder people kept warning us about being out after dark with our suitcases. No matter, the airport awaits. Homeward bound.

Lake Titicaca, Peru

Puno, the jumping off place for the island tours, is another block and adobe city with yet another square and yet another cathedral. I saw a lot of them and didn't feel this one was destinctive. A less classical and more colorful cathedra was almost hidden by the blue plastic wrapped around the square in front of it. Restoration is in progress. I got sick in Puno and didn't really have the energy to explore.

I first ventured out for a tour to Sullistani with its chullpas, funerary towers built of large stone blocks with only a small opening facing east. These housed the remains and whatever the deceased needed for life in the other realm. This trip included a stop at a traditional homestead which I found more interesting than the towers.

The next day we were off on a boat in the waters of Lake Titicaca, the largest lake in South America and at the altitude of roughly 12,000 feet, the world's highest navigatable waters. Acccording to Andean belief, it is the birthplace of the sun.  With a resume like that, I couldn't possibly not go, sick or not.

Our boat wound its way through channels between the totora reeds that were used to create our next stop, Isla Uros. These islands are built entirely of reeds. One man demonstrated their construction by lashing  together blocks of the root systems that support them, then layering the reeds on top in a criss-cross pattern until they were thick enough and strong enough to support a community. Walking on them feels a little weird, as does the very slight motion of the water beneath them. Almost everything is made of these reeds: houses, boats, arches, even a large fish sculpture. The islands we visited were strictly for tourism. The real settlements are tucked back and those who live there in the old way do not welcome gawkers and their cameras.

Next was Isla Amantani where ladies dressed in layers of colorful skirts sat on a wall awaiting us. We were divided into small groups and assigned to one who took us home, cooked traditional meals and bedded us down for the night. Lunch was a bowl of delicious soup, a slice of cheese browned in a skillet, topped with tomato, and the usual little potato. I could barely eat and did not partake in an evening meal. Our hostess, Josephina, served yerba teas for my ailment with herbs that she would pick along the paths on the island. While others hiked to the top of the island to view the sunset, I sat with my host and her friends and watched people bringing home their herds of sheep. I asked why I didn't see any dogs, goats or pigs on the island and Josephina replied that they didn't have them; theirs is a clean island.

Isla Taquille was the most interesting of the islands my group visited. It is fairly steep and terraced, its homes built mostly of adobe, almost all sporting tin roofing of the same color. Everywhere else I've been the women were always spinning yarn or knitting but here the men knit. There is a tradition of them knitting the appropriate hat to indicate marital status. Long, pointed, falling to the side like a nightcap, if the top is white, he is single; if he's married, its red. A man and his intended spouse create two pieces of a waiste band he will wear as a married man, the joining of these pieces is part of the traditional wedding ceremony. Her portion is of an intricate design, one he can show off to let the world know of his wife's talents. Forget cooking, this is much more important!