This final post comes to you from the LA airport. We left our hotel in Lima at 11 am on Friday and we'll all arrive at our respective homes around 12:30 am on Sunday. Yep, that's over 36 hours. Just sayin'....
So, lots of catching up to do. On Monday, we took an extraordinary train ride on the Andean Explorer, from Cucso to the crumbly, higgledy-piggledy, even-higher-altitude city of Puno. This tourist train evokes travel in the1920s, with fine wood and brass interiors. We were treated to two sets of live music and a demonstration on making Pisco sours.
The next day, Tuesday, we went on a tour of Lake Titicaca, the highest-altitude navigable lake in the world. When we were on the boat, it felt at times more like being on the ocean, with the Bolivian shore only vaguely visible. To put it in context, Titicaca is 25 times the area of Okanagan Lake. On the other hand, it's only one tenth the size of Lake Superior!
We visited two amazing sites that day. The first was the floating reed islands of the Uros people. In the 1300s and 1400s, the Uros, who had previously lived on the shores of the lake, moved onto their reed boats to escape domination (and taxation) by the Incan ruling class. Their boats evolved into floating islands -- more like large reed barges to my eyes. There are only about 1500 Uros people still living on about 80 islands now, and the projection is that their communal, island-based lifestyle will end in another 15 or 20 years. The "presidente" of the island we visited (18 residents) explained that, although everyone works together to maintain the island and their huts, if a family isn't pulling their weight, the other families will simply cut the island apart, effectively setting them adrift!
Although they still barter with other local people for food, tourism is one of the Uros' main sources of cash and it was clear that having 20 or so Gringos on their tiny island was a polished strategy. Much pressure to buy handicrafts, which worked on Frank.
The second stop of the day was Taquile Island, 2-1/2 hours by boat from Puno. This is a very traditional, communally-based agrarian community of about 2500 people. It was fascinating to learn from our very intelligent young guide about the cultural practices on the island, many of them pre-Columbian.
Interestingly, it's the men who knit beautiful hats and other textiles. The women are expert weavers. UNESCO has recognized the extraordinary skill of this community.
So, lots of catching up to do. On Monday, we took an extraordinary train ride on the Andean Explorer, from Cucso to the crumbly, higgledy-piggledy, even-higher-altitude city of Puno. This tourist train evokes travel in the1920s, with fine wood and brass interiors. We were treated to two sets of live music and a demonstration on making Pisco sours.
The next day, Tuesday, we went on a tour of Lake Titicaca, the highest-altitude navigable lake in the world. When we were on the boat, it felt at times more like being on the ocean, with the Bolivian shore only vaguely visible. To put it in context, Titicaca is 25 times the area of Okanagan Lake. On the other hand, it's only one tenth the size of Lake Superior!
We visited two amazing sites that day. The first was the floating reed islands of the Uros people. In the 1300s and 1400s, the Uros, who had previously lived on the shores of the lake, moved onto their reed boats to escape domination (and taxation) by the Incan ruling class. Their boats evolved into floating islands -- more like large reed barges to my eyes. There are only about 1500 Uros people still living on about 80 islands now, and the projection is that their communal, island-based lifestyle will end in another 15 or 20 years. The "presidente" of the island we visited (18 residents) explained that, although everyone works together to maintain the island and their huts, if a family isn't pulling their weight, the other families will simply cut the island apart, effectively setting them adrift!
Although they still barter with other local people for food, tourism is one of the Uros' main sources of cash and it was clear that having 20 or so Gringos on their tiny island was a polished strategy. Much pressure to buy handicrafts, which worked on Frank.
The second stop of the day was Taquile Island, 2-1/2 hours by boat from Puno. This is a very traditional, communally-based agrarian community of about 2500 people. It was fascinating to learn from our very intelligent young guide about the cultural practices on the island, many of them pre-Columbian.
Interestingly, it's the men who knit beautiful hats and other textiles. The women are expert weavers. UNESCO has recognized the extraordinary skill of this community.
We had a simple, delicious lunch on the island. It turns out it was the first time the family had served lunch in their brand new "restaurant", and Dawn, who had lingered behind a bit, got to see a brief ceremony where the patriarch of the family offered beer to Pachamama (earth goddess) as thanks for a successful opening day.
It was a long day on a slow boat, but I doubt any of the three of us will ever forget it. What a privilege, especially visiting Taquile Island, where people felt genuinely welcoming. Our young guide offered a most astute summary of Peru's recent history on the long ride back, including the 80s era of guerrilla activity (remember the Shining Path?) and rampant political corruption that continues today.
By Wednesday, we were all glad to leave poor old Puno for a flight to Lima. The mid-afternoon traffic was terrifying. Frank and I agreed the taxi ride to our hotel was the most hair-raising one we've ever experienced. It's not often we're in a city of almost 9 million!
Not only is Lima really big, and congested with traffic, it's pretty gritty. Still, it had its charms. The area we were staying in was safe and had a lovely malecon and string of parks, crammed full of Limenos enjoying life.
Dinner that night was at a little street-front counter. Frank's and my bill for more food than we could eat came to $12!
On Thursday, Frank and I parted company from Dawn for the day. Frank and I explored the rather-decrepit historic downtown: charm, decay and disorder side by side.
Frank and I watched the sun go down in what we thought was the downtown's prettiest (but still noisy and gritty) square, sipping pisco sours.
On our final day (was it really only yesterday??) Dawn explored an artsy, bohemian neighbourhood while Frank and I toured a 1500 year-old (pre-Incan) temple honouring the goddess of the sea, viewed by the Lima people as more powerful than the male sun god, because each night the sea consumes the sun, then gives birth to it each morning. How's that for an early feminist world view?
And now, we're at the end of our adventure: tired, full of half-processed thoughts and observations, even more aware of our privilege, I think (I hope we can hold on to that attitude), and still great amigos! Six more hours and we should all be home in our own beds...
Wendy, Frank and Dawn
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