First of all, Im disappointed in you all. Youre all fine people whom I love dearly, but your cultural literacy leaves a lot to be desired. Last emails subject line came from an episode of the Simpsons where Bart sells his soul for five dollars. After doing so, he can no longer venture the breath to write something obscene on the ice cream cooler door at the kwik-e-mart. The line comes from a comment by Jimbo upon observing Bar{s efforts. Honorable emntion goes to Rob Miller for at least venturing a guess.
Anyway, we managed to get safely out of Arequipa to Puno, on the Peru side of the worlds most hilariously named place, Lake Titicaca. There were no miner strikes or roadblocks, so other than a folk musician playing his guitar-ukele hybrid and pan pipes on the bus shilling for change, the ride was fairly uneventful.
Puno was terrible. Dirty, touristy, expensive, loud, full of half-finished brick buildings where construction seems to have been abandoned, smelly, depressing. However, it is the main town on the Peruvian side of the lake, and therefore has a monopoly on any sort of excursions you might want to undergo. We booked a tour to the Uros floating islands, and then Taquile island further out in the lake.
Uros Floating Islands- The Uros are a fascinating story. They are Aymara speaking and predate the Inca in Lake Titicaca. Once the Inca came to power, they fled to the lake to avoid being enslaved. For the last 1000 years they have lived on literally floating islands that they make out of reeds that grow in the lake. Today, there are over 40 islands, each housing anywhere between a single family to an entire community depending on the size. The bottom layer of reeds is constantly rotting, so a new layer needs to be added on top every 15 days. There lifestyle today seems to be a shell of itself. Literally everyday boatloads of tourists come out to visit and take pictures. The Uros all go along with it because theyve become dependent on tourist money. The whole thing was awkward and off-putting, it felt very long. If you ever visit Lake Titicaca I don't recomend the Uros, no matter how interesting the idea of an artificial floating island may be.
Taquile- Next was Taquile, an actual island farther out into the lake. We arrived by 10 in the morning to see a group of people whose lifestyle, unlike the Uros, seemed largely unchanged from the time of the Inca. The islanders are also Aymara speakers who learned Quechua to bargain with the Inca. Like the Colca Valley, they too are still farming using the same terraces theyve used for the last 1000 years. Since the island operates largely under self-sustaining agriculture, it seemed much more idealic, and nowhere near as dirty or depressing as other poor agrarian communities Ive had occasion to observe in Latin America. Plus the walk from the top of the island back down to the boats is like something out of the Aegean, or at least what Ive always imagined the Greek islands to look like. Highly reccomended, especially for washing the ickiness of the Uros out of your psyche.
Next we pushed on to Bolivia, hoping to get more off the beaten path and away from all the other backpackers we kept seeing everywhere (Im well aware that me disdaining western backpackers is the pot calling the kettle black, but what are you going to do?), but unfortunately our bus from Puno to Copacabana on the Bolivian side of Titicaca was literally filled with nothing but backpacking hippies. The border crossing was smooth as can be. I was actually expecting a lot of hassle given Morales' obvious disdain for Americans. Copacabana is a charming little lakeside town, everything we wanted Puno to be. The weather did turn on us, even though it is not the rainy season, so we werent able to get out much. Played some scrabble in a little cafe to wait out the storm, and then climbed the local mirador (lookout) in the late afternoon. After about 200,000 (a rough estimate based upon how my calves felt at the top) stone steps we reached the top and were rewarded with stunning views of the lake at sunset, although it was still a little cloudy, so I imagine they could be even stunninger on a clear day. Copa has avery interesting Moorish style Cathedral that the Vatican commanded the locals to build to commemorate some miracle or another. Kind of strange to see cuppolas on a cathedral, but we did get to see some SUVs decked out in flowers and ribbons, the result of having been "blessed" in the cathedral. Awesome. Other than that, Copa didn{t have much to offer, but we enjoyed a relaxing day after several hectic travel days. The weather still looked a little cloudy, so we elected to push on to La Paz, rather than visiting Isla del Sol, the place where the Incas believe the first humans were born. Hopefully well get there as we loop back into Peru.
La Paz- The bus ride here was mind blowing, along the lake for the first third or so. At one point we stopped at a small town and got off the bus. The bus had to cross the lake on a vehicle ferry that you had to see to believe (it looked like it was made of scrap wood) while the passengers would cross on seperate ferries. Even though we werent leaving Bolivia they asked to see our passports. Unfortunately, mine was underneath the bus which at this point was about halfway across. I showed the guard my photocopy, but he said it was no good and had me come back to the office with him. I was quite excited to try and offer him a bribe (sort of a right of passage for Latin American travelers), and I asked him something to the effect of "isnt there some sort of fine I can pay here? Now? To you?" He said yes, that it was 150 Bolivianos, (about 20 dollars) but then showed me the official notice stating specifically that people without their passports would have to pay a 150 Boliviano fine. alas it would not be a bribe I would be paying (although rest assured, it was a bribe that I offered to pay in the first place), but rather an officcially sanctioned government fine. It all worked out in the end, however, and he then did an about face and said that photocopy was fine and sent me on my way.
La Paz takes up an entire valley below the towering Huyanapotisi mountain. As you begin to descend it stretches out into the smog past where they eye can see. Unlike most western cities, the nicer areas are farther down the valley, and the slummier areas are closer to the top. We got to our hotel all right and set out to explore the city. Saw a manafestacion (demonstration) a couple of blocks away and went down to check it out. There were plenty of riot police decked out in helmets, shields, and teargas guns, but we couldn{t really see any demonstrators, only a few young men shooting bottle rockets into the air. I tried to talk to one of the riot policemen, but he seemed very less than interested in speaking to me, and after a couple of blank stares as responses to my questions, I took the hint and we got the hell out of there. Wandered back to our hotel through the witches market and the cocoa museum. Market had lots of awesome things like dried lama fetuses (apparently bury one under the cornerstone of a new house youre building for good luck) and fake fossils for sale. Cocoa museum did a lot to dispell myths about cocoa leaves (which are chewed by about everyone around here, they help with the altitude) and how their use differs from cocaine. For instance, when the Spanish first came, they considered the leaves to be diabolic due to their religous signifigance to the native people, however once it was found out that chewing the leaves could allow slave labor to work gold and silver mines longer and with less rest, then they were suddenly in favor of it. I could go on and on but...
it seems that Ive written a lot again. For those of you still reading, thank you. Tomorrow were going to mountain bike on "the world's most dangerous road," and after that I think we are a mere 14 hour bus ride from Bolivias other capital, Sucre, from where we will begin our conquest of the southern portion of the country.
Where I've Been
12 years ago
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