El turismo tico tico

Post program I embarked on a week or so of travel with one of my closest friends from the program, Erin.  At this time (if its not too late) I thought a map of Peru might prove useful for those who want to orient themselves.  During the program I traveled to Ayacucho, the Cusco area, Paracas, Nasca, Ica, and Huaraz; all destinations in the southern half of the country.  After final exams I flew even further south in order to visit Arequipa, Puno, and Colca Canyon.  My friend and I had ganas to see a lot on a budget; we achieved both our goals and in doing so had many unplanned adventures.   

Arequipa, also know as the white city, is Peru's second largest and second most important city.  With a population of 3 million Arequipa is a sizable city by any standard; Peruvians like to joke that Arequipa is the Texas of Peru.  Arequipeños consider their city to have a distinct culture (distinct enough, some say, to be considered its own country).  The city has been the seat of several popular rebellions; as such, Arequipa is also known as "la heroica ciudad de los libros de Arequipa".  Arequipa is famous for its colonial center, constructed out of volcanic sillar; for such dishes as: adobo, cuy chactado, chupe de camarones, ocopa, and rocoto relleno; and for being the birth place of the author Mario Vargas Llosa.  Despite waves of recent immigrants from Puno the city has attempted to maintain its traditional European feel; in this, Arequipa has been mostly successful.  To me Arequipa felt like a different country.

I spent two days alone in Arequipa while Erin was traveling with her family.  It was a bit odd to be surrounded by tourists after months of just living, but I met a pretty chill, global crowd.  Here are some highlights of my time spent in the white city:     

Sunlight hitting the Cathedral in the Plaza de Armas.  

I spent quite a bit of time here watching pigeons and Peruvians go about their daily business.  

I felt like an urban Thoreau; sometimes you just have to while away the day watching ants.    

Snapshots from el Monasterio de Santa Catalina: "Una ciudad dentro de la ciudad".

The Monastery of Saint Catherine was built in 1579 and later enlarged.  At its peak it was home to about 450 people, the majority of these were Dominican nuns from upper class Spanish families.  Today about 20 nuns live in the monastery; the proceeds from the entrance fee support the nuns and help to maintain the monastery.

I met Erin in Puno; also known as the capital of Peruvian Folklore, Puno is located on the the Peruvian shore of Lake Titicaca.  Peruvians like to joke about the etymology of the word Titicaca; apparently, the Peruvian side of the lake is known "titi" and the Bolivian side is known as "caca" (although Bolivians will tell you the opposite).  However, the name is actually a combination of several words from both Quechua and Aymara (the local languages); it is often translated as "Rock Puma".  Puno itself is not considered to be a tourist destination; it is a relatively poor and grubby town, even by Peruvians standards, and is home to many rural Peruvian immigrants looking for ways to improve their quality of life.  Many foreign visitors use it as a "jumping off point" to explore the islands of Lake Titicaca.  However, I found Puno to be fascinating in a gritty sort of way.
 

I made a Canadian friend (Claire) in Arequipa who happened to be traveling to Puno around the same time.  We spent our first day together wandering through the Sunday farmer's market and unwittingly discovered an awesome park that included several playgrounds and a skate park.  We whiled away the afternoon on a giant slide with a group of local children.  The next day we boarded a collectivo in order to visit the Uros Islands and Taquile.

The Uros Islands are the famous made-made islands, constructed of reed, near the Peruvian shore of Lake Titicaca.  They are pretty touristy, but certainly well worth a visit.   

The three rubias: Clare, Erin, and I on the Uros Islands...and on the Island of Taquile.

Taquile is a beautiful island about 45k offshore of the city of Puno.  The inhabitants of Taquile speak Quechua.  The island is renowned for its textiles; knitting is a traditional activity performed exclusively by the men.  As well as its innovative, community-controlled tourism; after tourists started to visit the island in the 70s, the islanders worked hard to control tourism for their own benefit.    

Erin and I hamming it up on the way down to the harbor.

Sunset en route to Puno.  Erin and I spent the long journey conversing in Portuspanglish with our fellow passengers: a Brazilian family and a Peruvian anthropologist doing field work on the Island of Amantani.  We learned about Brazilian Politics: "There are more than thirty political parties, but really there are just two: los ladrones y los que no quieren más ladrones."  Lake Titicaca is one of those magical places where the moon and the sun appear in the sky at the same time.

The next day we hiked up to a Mirador (#urbanmountaineering) and drank in the view.  Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world and the largest lake by volume in South America, is truly an impressive site from above.  I felt like I was on top of the world.  Later, Erin and I took a mid-afternoon bus back to Arequipa.  We enjoyed nutritious "alimentación a bordo" aka oreos and peanut butter while watching such quality films as: What to expect when you are expecting, The green lantern, and So undercover (don't laugh-I thought this was a judgement-free zone-and it was a long bus ride, ok?).     

The following morning Erin and I got creative on our way to Chivay (the largest and most important town in the Colca Valley).  We arrived at the bus station around 7:30 am but the 8:00 am local bus was already full; there wasn't another bus until 11:00 am.  So I marched over to the tourism office and inquired "si hay otra opción".  Well, we ended up traveing with El Turismo Tico Tico.  Now, don't let the name trick you into thinking that this is a transportation option designed for tourists because I can provide evidence to the contrary.


Erin and I traveled from Arequipa to Chivay in an overstuffed white van (with our backpacks strapped to the roof with a net) in the company of a bunch of locals.  We actually stopped a couple of times before we left Arequipa in order to ensure that we were at max capacity.  But hey, we got there and in what I am sure was record time.

The struggles continued in Chivay.  The town is literally 9 blocks by 9 blocks.  But somehow, no one seemed to have heard of our hostel; we had booked a double in Los Dos Lunas with "el servicio básico" before leaving Arequipa.  Well, when we arrived at what we thought was the address (and by address I mean street name s/n-sin numero-that is) it appeared as if the ENTIRE street was under construction.  After asking a few more villagers for directions we finally found the place; a full two blocks up from the original location.  CLASSIC!

Afterwards Erin and I needed some serious relaxation.  We took a collectivo to la Calera; a series of natural hot springs in the canyon that smell only vaguely of sulfur.         

Just down the hill from the hot springs there is a bridge to the other side of the canyon.  Erin and I fooled around on the bridge until we were asked to leave.

Left: Every pasaje of the market in Chivay is a reference to another location in Peru.  Highlights include: Pasaje Polvos Azules (above) and Pasaje Gamarra (the clothing manufacturing neighborhood of La Victoria).  

Right: The next day we discovered that "el servicio básico" included breakfast in bed.

Lunch (aka whatever was on hand): pancito, tuna verde (cactus fruit), gold fish, peanut butter, and peanuts.  Accompanied by a read aloud from The Simarillion.

The next day we traveled with Turismo Milagro (again don't let the name fool you-the bus was essentially a mountain combi) to the famous Mirador del Cruz del Condor.  Erin and I had lunch at the Mirador where we were fortunate enough to see 4 condors.  After lunch we had to hike to Cabanaconde, the next town in the Valley, to catch a 2 pm bus.  I noticed on the map that Cabanaconde appeared to be 12-14 km from the Mirador, but everyone we talked to said it was only about a 2 hr hike.  Putting aside out trepidations we set out because, let's be honest, we really didn't have another option (save hitch hiking)...

  

Me and my churraniña-a doll that I bought to support the shelter we visited in Pampamarca.

After about an 1.5  hike we arrived at this sign (a tribute to Juanita, an Inca child sacrificed and buried near Cabanaconde, who I visited in el Mueso de los Santuarios Andinos in Arequipa) and we realized that we were only half way to Cabanaconde.  Well after that, Erin and I hauled ass, ran through a several farmer's fields, and arrived in Cabanconde just in time to catch our bus (facturing in la hora peruana that is). 

Erin and I spent our last day in Arequipa (her last day in Peru) straight chilling.  We visited the San Camilo market (one of the cleanest and best organized markets I've seen in Peru), and shopped 'til we dropped in a used book store.  We enjoyed a last supper at Chicha, Gastón Acurio's restaurant in Arequipa.  The portions were enormous, the food amazing, and the company good.  Below is a picture of my friend Catherine (la Morinita), who just happened to be in Arequipa at the same time, with a steaming portion of chupe de camorrones.

Despedidas on Despedidas on Despedidas

My last month in Peru was a lesson on how to say goodbye.  Starting with a peace out at the PUCP.

Painting our hands on the walls of the oficinita in la Cato.
                  
I paid homage to my Latina alter-ego: the incredibly sassy Susanna Villán who comes out to play every time a taxi drive asks me if I am single.  (No, I am engaged to an engineer named Christopher.  He is very jealous.)




And continuing with the IFSA despedida...which was a blur of sanguichitas and group photos (con flash, sin flash, con cámara, sin cámara).  But hey, we're a pretty good looking group.

Here is a picture of the incomparable Pochy and I.  My host mom and I stopped by a memorial mass en route to the goodbye party (and by that I mean we went to mass at the time the despedida was supposed to start).  Gotta love la hora peruana...



The patas, IFSA semester and year long students, and Lali, our Resident director.

And below the large and occasionally dysfunctional  family...IFSA students, staff, and host families.  As any true limeña would say...somos un grupasso.  When I signed up for IFSA I didn't expect or necessarily want to be adopted by a new family, but that's kind of what it was like.  And to be honest, I couldn't have asked for a more quirky and caring group of people.  Here's to one hell of a semester!



On the Friday of the last week of finals a small group made the trip out to la Punta, a district of Callao, to visit a professor.  La Punta es otro mundo.  Pero en serio...

Callao is Peru's oldest and most important port city.  Founded by the Spanish two years after Lima in 1537, Callao was absorbed into the Lima Metropolitan Area as the city expanded; although Callao has never been considered part of the department of Lima.  The city of Callao has six districts; one of which is la Punta-a middle and upper class neighborhood located on a peninsula and historically populated by Italian immigrants.

Getting to la Punta from Miraflores is quite the trek; you have to cross the districts of San Isidro, Magdalena del Mar, San Miguel, and La Perla on the way, and it takes nearly two hours in combi (but it only costs S/ 2.50).  However, its more than worth the effort.  La Punta has nothing to do with the Lima Metropolitan area.  Picture the glorious love child of Madrid and Northeastham.

Estefanie, Angelica, Erin, and Kaitlynn relaxing in la Plaza Central...

La Punta is beautiful and relaxed (super tranki); it also has its own microclimate-the weather is colder and clearer.  Its the kind of neighborhood where everyone knows everyone; when faced with the statement "I've never seen you before" I ended up telling a bodega owner my life story.


Home to many fishermen, it is one of the best and cheapest places to eat ceviche in Lima (that is, if you where the locals eat).  Here is a group shot in Don Guiseppi's, a small restaurant near the Central Plaza.  Where we "crushed" plates of ceviche, arroz con mariscos, and chicharron.  A highlight of the day was receiving a home made copy of Los olvidados (no los de Buñuel, los míos) from my professor, Rossana Díaz Costa (la Rocca); apparently her book was out of print, but when she heard that I wanted a copy she made me one at the fotocopiadora in la Cato.

Other memorable moments include: teaching la Rocca the phrase "kill it" while watching Erin demolish a plate of ceviche.  Oh and I almost forgot, we had a star siting outside of Don Guiseppi's.  We bumped into the young actress who plays Anita in La Rocca's movie.  I have to admit that we were all a little star struck when we met the poised and charismatic young actress.

Below: a shot of the IFSA gang enjoying the Malecón of la Punta.
             

On a clear day you can see the entire coast of Lima, straight to el Morro Solar in Chorrillos, but those days are rare during el invierno limeño.  One last image of a break in the neblina over la Playa Cantolao.

I celebrated my first bilingual birthday over the weekend; like me, the composition of reunión was about 30% Peruvian, 60% gringo.  Not going to lie, I got chills hearing Happy Birthday in two different languages.  It was a huge success.  Adrienne, Sara, Pablo, and I made a VAT of guacamole, and Carter bought the cake to end all cakes (a brick of chocolate moose).  The evening ended at 4 o'clock on the Malecón.  It was picture perfect.

The majority of the IFSA gringada flew back to the states on Monday, the 15th.  However, I hung around Lima for two more days before embarking on a week long adventure in and around Arequipa (details to come).

During my last two days in Lima I said goodbye in my own way (I like to think of it as urban mountaineering); I walked from one end of the city to the other.  On Tuesday I walked from my house to Avenida Arequipa above Parque Kennedy and walked all forty or so blocks to the beginning of Arequipa in the Center of Lima (almost 10k).  I watched the city change from the glamour of Miraflores to the grubby, bustle of Lima's colonial heart.
On Wednesday I wandered South to Chorrillos and hiked el Morro Solar, a system of hills with monuments dedicated to the casualties of the most bloody battles of la Guerra del Pacífico (the war between Peru and Chili).  Since my arrival in Lima I had been intrigued by the giant neon cross of Chorrillos; on my last full day in Lima I finally made it to this omnipresent monument.  I didn't take this picture, but you can probably get an idea of how enticing el Morro Solar looks looming over the Fisherman's Wharf on the southern fringe of Lima.

Puedo usar los servicios del bosque?

Huaraz (population 200,000) is the capital of the Ancash region, and one of the most important cities of the Peruvian Andes.  Settlement in area began with the Inca Empire, but the Spanish city wasn't founded until 1574.  An earthquake in the 70's practically obliterated (destroyed 95% of) the city, but Huaraz was supported by a massive international relief effort; as such, it was named capital of International Friendship.  

But what Huaraz is really known for is its proximity to the Cordillera Blanca, a section of the Peruvian Andes that includes 33 peaks over 5,500 m.  The Ancash region is reputed to be the second most beautiful place to trek in the world.

So yeah, Huaraz is pretty dam cool, or so I had heard, which is why a couple of friends decided to head north for a mid finals vacation.  Perhaps we should have done a little more research before departing Lima, but let's get real, who actually has time for that?  And besides the over prepared tend to have less adventures...     

Adventure number 1: Arriving at our hostel.  I had made the hostel arrangements, but somehow I had conveniently forgotten to write down the address (in my defense addresses in Peru are sometimes less useful than you might think).  But through some weird combination of circumstances we bumped into the owner of the Alpes Huaraz on the street; he directed us up the hill by the church of San Fransisco to our new home. 

The first day was all about napping off the over night bus ride.  Although, Adrienne and I did manage to take an evening walk; we stumbled upon the "Polvos Azules" of Huaraz (a buzzing labyrinth of market streets) and watched the sun set between the wings of an angel, illuminating the Cordillera Blanca with golden afterglow as it made its rapid descent.  No jokes or exaggerations.  

The next day we went horseback riding in the Cordillera Negra.  The goal: sit on horseback for four hours and get bad ass views.  The unexpected bonus: I found my soul mate (Canyoncito-a stallion with: bad gas, a need to be in the lead, and who as yet, has not proved himself able to walk in a straight line).  Yeah I know, sounds like love, but trust me-it was.  I now count my noble steed as Peruvian lover number four; he had to get in line behind: Wong, la S, and la 7 litro del San Mateo.     

We also learned some important lessons:

Bananas from breakfast don't have the structural integrity to survive a serious day.

Never go on vacation with pants that are already ripped.  For some reason I thought that it would be ok if I went to Huaraz with a pair of jeans that were already starting to show some serious wear.  Here is the thing-the situation isn't magically going to improve; in fact it is only going to get a lot worse.  But all I can say is...5 months, 2 pairs of pants-what else do you expect?  

Day 3-day hike to Laguna 69 in Huascarán National Park; I think my friends and I were hoping and expecting a casual and beautiful day trip, but when I heard the distance, elevation change, and altitude I had my suspicions that they were going to get a lot more than we had bargained for.  Which turned out to be the case.  But luckily we responded to the challenges of the hike with humor and good spirits-it was definitely an experience that makes friends, friends for life.  The day was a beautiful comedy of errors.  

The thing about Peru is its a very casual country; waivers just don't exist because its a take you life in your own hands sort of place.  Also, the fitness base and preperation of the average Huaraz trekker is pretty high (some might say world class); so when people say day hike, what they actually mean is: a 10 mile hike that climbs from 3,950 m to 4,600 m that you must complete in 6 hours so you can be off the unpaved roads before dark.  Which, and I can say this as a very experienced outdoorswoman, is probably not something a group of college students who have been living at sea level in Lima and exercising moderately, if at all, should attempt on their second full day at altitude.  But hey, you live and you learn...some of us didn't make it to the top, but that's ok, its really about the journey anyway.  But for those that did, the destination vale la pena: 

An unnamed lake about 4 kilometers from the final destination, and Laguna 69, 

a pristine glacial lake with views of Chacraraju.  

The Summit Crew: Erin, Adrienne, Sara, and I feeling tired but accomplished in the extreme.  We made it to the top for one reason and one reason alone: a king sized Milky Way shared four ways.  Notice the IFSA backpacks and lack of real trekking equipment.  Clearly we were slightly less than prepared for the journey. 

Funny aside: Adrienne hiked the entire way in jeans, fashion sun glasses, ugly ass white tennis shoes, and a scarf.  When I teased her about her attire she replied: "I don't hike mountains."  Guess there's a first for everything.

We descended back to the bus in a hail storm, and practically had to run to make sure we didn't get let behind.  I felt ok until we were about half way down the dirt road from the park to the town of Yungay.  And then a combination of terrible pavement, dehydration, altitude sickness, and rude Israeli's (Israeli tourists are kind of a huge thing in Latin America-they complete their year of mandatory military service and spend a year traveling) joined forces to create the worse migraine I have ever suffered.  The only thing that saved me was knowing my friends were suffering the same or worse.  Once we got back to Huaraz we did our best to revive ourself with seven personal Fantas split between four people, but the only really answer to explosive altitude headaches is sleep.  And that's what we did... 

Team seroche sipping maté de coca in hopes of recovering from the previous days exertions.

We spent the final day of our mini vacation at Chavín de Huantar, a pre-Inca archaeological site occupied at least as early as 1200 BC and as late as 400-500 BC.  Chavín de Huantar was a ceremonial site for the Chavín culture; major take away point: aggressive ritual drug use (Ayahuasca, San Pedro Cactus, etc).  It lacks the grandeur of Machu Picchu, but the labyrinths beneath the site are off the chain!  Also, I can say that if for some reason in your travels you find your way onto a Peruvian tour you've probably done something right.  Our tour guide provided the perfect mix of information, dirty jokes, and social commentary.  It was legit!

Two images of Erin and I finding our way through the underworld of Chavín de Huantar.