Peru, February 3, 2009 | No Comments
By jpd
We took the train. Pretty easy, actually.
As much as I think we wanted to, we just couldn’t get really geeked about Machu Picchu. It’s an incredible place, in a spectacular setting, but it wasn’t the grand experience that we were half expecting. Maybe it’s because we’re not all that big on archaeology, or perhaps it’s because we decided to do the tour without a guide (against somebody’s objections) and most of the time didn’t clearly understand just what it was we were looking at. In any case, I think we were struck more by the mountains and the surrounding area than we were by, say, the unparalled Inca stonework. I was personally most in awe of the fact that the place was discovered and selected as a building site in the first place. I mean, it’s at the top of a mountain, nestled among a bunch of other mountains, in the jungle, in the middle of nowhere. I just wonder how people got there in the first place.
It’s the low season at Machu Picchu, just before it closes for the month of February. It was raining, plus it was late in the day so there weren’t really that many people around. Like I said, we didn´t have a guide, so we just wandered around. We took photos, we rested, we ate Doritos in the Sacred Plaza. It was a nice day, in a beautiful place, and I think I’m going to read more about it on Wikipedia so I can be be more stoked about having visited.
Peru, January 29, 2009 | 4 Comments
By Kari
Lake Titicaca spans the border between Bolivia and Peru and it is the perfect way to enter into either country. Leaving Copa, we headed to Puno, the Peruvian coastal town and point of embarcation for the other two islands most often visited by tourists: Uroys and Tanquile. In traditional fashion, JP and I visited the islands in a nontraditional manner. The first day, we headed down to the docks early in the morning and signed up for a last minute tour with people from several different parts of South America. We boarded a rickety boat headed for Uros and spent the majority of the ride watching our captain bail out the bow. None of our companions or guide spoke English, but we managed and enjoyed a very nice tour.
The second day, we went to the docks early in the morning, were once again bombarded by several tour coordinators, and signed up for a tour that was guaranteed to only go to Tanquile. We boarded a beautiful boat with leather seats, a wood-paneled cabin, and hot coca tea service. This trip was designed for the tourists from other parts of the world. Although wewere guaranteed a direct trip to Tanquile, the ship set its course directly for Uros.
Fortunately for us, Uros is comprised ofseveral different islands (currently 45) and we visited islands different than the ones from the day before. It was very interesting to compare the varying styles in tours, but we consider ourselves fortunate to have been a part of them both.
Uros
The islands of Uros are best known for being completely man-made and for “floating” in the water. Although no once is certain of their origins, many suspect that the original tribe was fleeing another violent tribe on the mainland. The “islands” consist of 1.5m of floating root-dirt blocks that are staked and tied together to create the mass of the islands. The island residents than lay several layers (1m deep) of the lake reeds over the blocks in opposing directions. Locations for homes and cooking receive additional layers of reeds to protect the islands. Everything on the island is made from the reeds- houses, crafts, boats, watchtowers, etc.
Exploring the islands brings out your inner child with the squishy ground and Neverland treehouse atmosphere. More than anything, I was amazed and impressed by the number of solar panels the residents used (for cooking on cloudy days, to light their homes with a single bulb, and for the occasional radio). Since I am aware of the cost of solar panels, I was surprised to see them throughout Bolivia, but as my guide explained, the government subsidized many of the panels in the early 90s. Today, the islanders rely on tourists dolars to pay for the panels (and everything else).
Typical habitation
This photo gives an idea of how the islands are made. Notice the solar panel in the background.
Part of our tour’s diarama depicting islander, hut, boat, and cooking pots.
A typical boat used between islands. Today, the islanders place used plastic bottles on the inside of the reeds to help the craft float.
Our island boat captain.
Fun on Uros.
Typical textile woven by the island women. The local men also make crafts to sell to the tourists, but only with the reeds.
Taquile
From Uros, we headed to Taquile. The people of Taquile are Quechuan, direct descendants of the Incans. They are primarily farmers and vegetarians, and only eat meat during festivals and special occasions.
Taquile is best known for its textiles and knitting and was named an UNESCO World Heritage Site because of this. The textiles have great significance in the Taquile culture. Only men are allowed to knit and begin to learn at age five. The men will knit hats that denote their marital and social standing. The women of the island make textiles including belts, which depict the events of the past year, and bolsas (bags) worn by their husbands. The bolsas are especially important because the men carry their coca leaves in them. It is customary for the men of Taquile to exchange coca leaves rather than shake hands as a form of greeting.
View of the lake from the island. Note the quinua field in the foreground.
Two of the girls from the family we had lunch with spinning yarn. Women and girls typically wear a black shawl over their heads.
The town square
Old man knitting
Traditional hats and black vests worn by important men of office. Only men can hold office, but they must be married. The belt signifies that the man on the right is married. A couple must live together for two years before getting married.
JP, me, and the three kids I bribed with sugar-free gum to take this picture with us.
The island is also known for the 500 Incan steps that lead to the top. Luckily, our guide was benevolent and only made us walk down them.
Bolivia, | No Comments
By Kari
A few years ago, I watched a Globetrekkers episode which included a piece on Lake Titicaca and its islands. That episode fueled my desire to visit South America, but particularly these islands which seemed so rich in culture. Escaping the heat and humidity of Rurrenabaque, JP and I bordered a small collectivo at 6.00am with the other weekend warriors and headed from La Paz to Copacabana. Copa was pretty unremarkable; another tourist town with the standard artesenal goods and overpriced hostals. Therefore, it was so nice to escape the mainland and head for Isla del Sol, purported to be the birthplace of the Incans and creation site of the sun.
After an excruciatingly slow boat ride, we arrived at Yumani and were instantly greeted by a ten year-old boy determined to guide us to our hostel (and earn his tip). Following weeks of being solicited for money and wary of scams, I was really frustrated with this kid, but then I realized that this is the custom of the island and he led us to a fantastic hostal- Hostal Hutosa Cumunitoria run by Indalicio Mamani Callisaya and his family. Also as JP noted, there are not many job opportunities available on this tiny island and the residents are kind enough to host hoards of tourist every day (ah, my better half).
We met a few people through our travels that suggested spending the night on the island and hiking the Incan stone road that circumferences the island. We set off from Yumani and headed north to the ruins and site of the Incan creation myth. Isla del Sol is actually divided into two different territories, and we had to pay a small fee, but it was a lovely hike with beautiful views of the lake. We crossed the paths of several island residents, mainly shepherds and children. Every child we passed asked for a small gift of caramelos, centamos, or payment for their photo; for anyone traveling to the island, I saw one woman brought a handful of drawings for the kids- brilliant!
We reached the Chincana ruins a couple of hours into the hike. According to the legend, the first Incans, Manco Capac and his sister/wife Mama Huaca, sprung forth from a rock at this site. Although there were several impressive rocks around, JP and I were unable to distinguish which was the origin of the Incans. Fortunately, there was also a sacrificial table which several backpackers were picnicking at - pretend the rock in the background is the sacred rock. We did.
We continued on our journey and came to the small town of Cha’llapampa. Although a large number of tourists stay in this town, the residents seemed completely oblivious to our presence. Wandering along that road has been one of my favorite experiences on this trip so far. Finally I felt as though I was experiencing a genuine side of South America and not one established for the turistas. There’s something enchanting about watching a group of small boys kick a soccer ball around while a pig, donkey, and cow are grazing at your legs and several women wearing the traditional Bolivian garb are whispering to one another in the shade of an adobe wall.
As we continued to meet the shepherds and island residents on the path, each person gave us a friendly greeting of ”Hola, Buenos Dias/Tardes/Noches”. In an odd way, it reminded me of driving along the country roads in Wisconsin and having every farmer raise three or four fingers off the steering wheel as a friendly hello, whether you knew one another or not. The total length of the trek is about 8km/5mi and even the locals were breathless at certain points. By the time we reached the edge of town, we were ready for a few beers and a traditional three-course cena. Lucky for us, we found a beautiful restaurant with panoramic views of the lake and a group of young Argentinians playing cards at an adjacent table. Perfect.
Bolivia, January 19, 2009 | 4 Comments
By jpd
We take the bus everywhere down here. Ride the bus from city to city, country to country. Sometimes we’re only on them for a couple of hours, other times we’re on ‘em for around 30 hours or so.
Every country has their own unique bus system and the quality and style of the ride depends greatly upon the wealth of the country you’re travelling in. Bolivia’s buses have so far been the worst in terms of comfort, but they’re tops in terms of style.
- JP
The first bus I saw was the best. He-Man astride BattleCat, doing battle with fire-breathing dinosaurs. Alas, no photo. This one’s a close second.
Rey Mysterio. “He has come for those for whom you weep.” Or something like that.
Jesus is huge here.
It’s said that the reason there are so many fatal bus accidents around here is because of the drivers’ faith in god. They paint a Jesus on their bus and go full-throttle down the road, believing that they’re protected by the Lord. The cab drivers even paint their cabs, and name them stuff like “Little Miracle”.
Napoleon Dynamite-esque
This is slowly but surely becoming my favorite. The horse with the little legs looks so happy. Anybody know if this is a reproduction of famous artwork?
“Without Rival”. I can’t quite figure this one out.
At first I thought this was like, “Up the terrorists, down the US”, but the big eagle and the sentimental spectre of the twin towers throws me off. A special prize to whoever comes up with the best interpretation of this one.
Bolivia, January 17, 2009 | 3 Comments
By Kari
Hola Amigos! First, thank you everyone for reading the blog. We apologize for not updating it as often as we should, but like many travel bloggers we have fallen victims to our trip. Honestly, I didn´t expect anyone but our moms to read this. Hi Mom! Hi Joyce!
After weeks of deliberating which country to start our jungle visit in, JP and I opted to enter the Amazonian Base from Bolivia. We set off from La Paz on an 18 hour bus ride down ¨the world´s most dangerous¨ road to Rurrenabaque - an experience in itself. Fortunately for us, chewing coca leaves is legal in Bolivia and our bus drivers had a great sense of humor- as was exhibited by the movie they showed during the trip; ¨The Ruins¨ consists of four American tourists being devoured by carnivorous plants in the jungle during their spring break (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0963794/). Oh, those crazy Bolivians and their love for turistas!
Upon arriving in Rurre we were told that there was more wildlife to be seen in the pampas than in the jungle, so we nixed the original plan with hopes of a future jungle visit in Peru or Ecuador. Based on several recommendations and their ¨eco-friendly¨ promotional images, we signed up with Indigena Tours and loaded into the familiar Toyota 4×4 the following morning.
After a four hour jaunt down the western hemisphere´s muddiest and bumpiest road, we joined our traveling companions, la familia Delgatto from Cochabamb and a Canadian/New Zealand couple, in a 20´ canoe and headed up the river Beni. The trip was beautiful with thick vegetation on either side of the river and a sunny sky above. It didn´t take long before we began spotting wildlife: tortoises, Serre birds, storks, capibara, and even caiman. About halfway up the river we pulled under a tree, unsure of our guide´s intentions until fifteen adorable monkeys came out to explore their new visitors. Although I was not too keen on our guide using a banana to lure the monkeys closer to our boat (not very eco-friendly; one guy from another group even fed them a Milky Way bar), even I was enchanted when they started crawling over our seats.
We continued our journey up the second half of the river until we spotted a sign for a bar. On the river. In the pampas. Buenisimo! Time for a well-deserved beer after such a strenuous day of work. To our delight, we learned that we were actually staying at the bar and that all of the other tour groups came to visit at the end of every day to watch the sunset and share their stories of caiman survival. JP and I immediately purchased a couple of beers (to help the local economy) and joined in on the nightly volleyball game with the guides.
After some of the best food we had in Bolivia and a choppy conversation of Spanish/English/French, it was bedtime….for everyone but JP and I. We decided to stay up and were fortunate enough to be serenaded by several of the guides playing guitar, spoons, a styrofoam cooler, and a caiman skull. The music was fun and lively and everyone was in good spirits, still celebrating the New Year. A couple of other gringos made their way over from a neighboring camp and we began dancing. It was quite the jungle party.
Early the next morning, Jaime, our guide, woke us to walk through suffocating heat, clouds of mosquitoes and sulfurous swampland to hunt for cobras and anacondas. Fortunately, Jaime took the lead and found a cobra before any of us had the good luck to step on it. We rushed over to him to find that he had the cobra ¨tamed¨ with its fangs clinging to the front of his t-shirt. Although we were unable to track down an anaconda, we unanimously agreed to return to base camp and protect ourselves from the moskies.
As exciting as the morning was, the afternoon proved to be even more adventurous with a quick dip in the river. Did I mention that there are caiman and piranhas in that there river? And pink river dolphins. In reality, the dolphins were the only creatures interested in us; as one of the guides/musicians explained to us the night before, only black caiman attack humans and they were farther up the river. Cruising the boat back to camp, our guide steered us towards one of the neighboring camps where he and another guide proceeded to lure an eight foot caiman out of the water with chicken. It may have been the crocodile tears, but at that moment I completely shed my fear of caiman/crocs/alligators and felt pity for this 80 year-old creature.
After a restless skeeter-filled night, I awoke for our final day´s tour activity- piranha fishing. Unfortunately, JP developed a case of Amazonian fever and swears that the bat in our room repeatedly bit his feet throughout the night. Only one person in our group actually caught a piranha, but we were all entertained (?) when another guide brought an anaconda they found during that morning´s search back to our camp. After another delicious lunch, it was back to base camp and another bumpy trek back to Rurre. Luckily for us, the trip was broken up by a short break in Reyes, a small town en route to Rurre. Reyes was celebrating the inauguration of the city which allowed JP and I to enjoy a South American beer and cotton candy while watching a rodeo through the stands. It was the perfect ending to our trip.
Note to Fellow Travelers: Although it was unnerving to see several practices that we considered environmentally unethical, it was apparent throughout the trip that everyone has a different tolerance level when it comes to this subject. We definitely did not want to be the tourists from the US preaching to our Bolivian allies about their country and practices (who knows what´s happening on some of the tours in the Florida Everglades). We spoke to the bartender at our hostel and he told us that Indigena is one of the better companies. There are others, like Flecha, who actually kill the animals so tourists can take photographs with them. If we were to book the trip over, we would have insisted at the beginning that the guides not feed or touch the animals. We would have seen fewer critters up close, but it would be worth it to ensure that they are still inhabiting the pampas five years from now. Please learn from our mistake….and beware the mosquitoes!
