South America 2

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Amigos, I must be honest. The first blog entry was quite a bit out of date. In fact, I’m starting this second entry before the first is even posted. The main issue was the pictures. Let’s face it; you’re not going to read these twice, and if I post an entry before the pictures are ready, well, then you’ll never see the pictures. And the pictures tell most of the story—to a large extent, literally, as I’ve put a lot into the captions. I figured out Picasa (if you hadn’t signed up with Google, sorry for making you, but at this point being wired into Google is a close 3rd to death and taxes) and I organized and sorted Daniel’s 1,500 pictures. A fun job, but a time-consuming one, and not an easy one to motivate for when you also need to study your Spanish and South America is right outside your door. I’ve tried to be a ruthless editor, so if you want to see more of the pics when I get back, just let me know. I’m sure I left out many photos that Daniel considers amongst his finest (sorry).

Getting back to our story…I took an overnight bus to Nasca to see the Nasca Lines. These are enormous designs in a desert plateau that are approximately 2,000 years old. What makes these truly amazing is that they are only visible from the air, and despite their many impressive technologies, the pre-Inca cultures never did develop the aeroplane. Therefore, the purpose of the Lines is a mystery. They were either for the gods or for aliens (there’s actually one that looks like an astronaut). In either case, they are huge. There are pictures of animals (up to 100 meters) as well as massive geometric designs (some greater than a kilometer). Despite some extremely involved efforts over the years, there is no consensus on what purpose the mess of lines, triangles, and spirals once served. I arrived in Nasca at 7AM and my flight over the Lines wasn’t until 9. In that brief time, I figured out that there really isn’t much else to do in Nasca. After taking the flight, which was awesome, I moved to an earlier bus. I had enough time to walk through the crumbling part of town to a museum with some cool mummies (is there any other kind?), and I was back in Arequipa 24 hours after I had left.

Some broad generalizations about Peruvians: >Almost none of them smoke. >Almost none of them wear sunglasses. >They are very sincere about their Catholicism. They kind of pimp out their cars with shiny rims and pinstriping, but instead of putting “2 Smooth 4 U” or “Low Rider” on the windows (OK, I’m dating myself), they put the names of saints and stuff about Jesus and Mary. >They haaaaaate giving change. Have you ever tried to pay for, say, a $6 New York cab ride with a hundred dollar bill? The look you get then is about the same as giving a 20 soles note for a 5 soles purchase (Yet! Yet! -their smallest coin is still larger than the American penny even after the 3:1 exchange rate. My God, we are a stubborn people. Dollar coins and no pennies people! Try it and you will like it.). >Also, Peruvians will not accept torn bills. And when I say a torn bill, I mean if it has an eighth of an inch tear, it might as well be a blank sheet of paper. This fact, combined with the fact that almost nobody accepts credit cards and, admittedly, my own poor planning, resulted in my using $200 of my $250 emergency stash on the third day of the trip. Impressive. >Traditional Peruvian music is nice, but their contemporary music is terrible. …or this may be an older guy is out of touch with modern music moment. I mean, I know that, for example, Nickelback’s music is bad, but this sh*t was unlistenable. I think a lot of it was reggaeton. Ugh. >They strike a good balance between Italian-style sit at your table for halfan hour between server visits and American “turn the table over” pressure. >They like Disney characters. >In the cities, their fashions are similar to Americans, until a certain age when the women all go back to the traditional dress. In rural areas, it’s all traditional. >They are poor. In addition to the handicapped, there especially seem to be many older women begging, presumably widows without a social safety net. Thankfully, begging children are rare, as families seem to almost always be together. Cusco is a very notable and very sad exception. >Futbol is their national passion but they are the worst team in South America this go-round. Given that, they got totally screwed on a missed off-sides call against Argentina and now American-hating pseudo-communist coach Diego Maradona is going to the World Cup instead of ending his career as a goat. >Their food, as you probably have heard, is unique and, although it is not quite my favorite, I have yet to have a meal that wasn’t at least good. >Their national drink, the pisco sour, is delicious, and deceptively strong. >Last, but most certainly not least, Peruvians are some of the friendliest people I have ever encountered. They’re kind of shy, but they’re really interested in other people. About every other day, a local with very limited English skills offers me some sort of unsolicited advice. Then we get into long, smile-filled conversations in broken Spanglish. It’s the same with all the people working in shops, hotels, train stations, locutorios, etc. They all smile and try to help. God bless ‘em.

My favorite Peruvians were the ones I met at Llama Spanish School. It’s probably not a coincidence that these were the five Peruvians I got to know best. Carlos was a damn good teacher. He went about teaching in a deliberate but flexible fashion (if that’s possible). You could tell that he wanted you to learn; mostly, I think, because he took pride in being good at his job. At 26, he had been teaching there for three years. “There” was a ragged by U.S. standards / pleasant by Peruvian standards townhouse that Maria, the school owner lived in with her two girls. He walked about 20 minutes to the central district to avoid getting a second bus charge (US$0.18 each fare) on his daily commute. An American with any sense of perspective had to be thankful for their birthplace after spending some time with Carlos. He would run circles around most of us given the chance.

Because my digestive system finally called for reinforcement (i.e. rest), I pushed my last Spanish class back one day. My usual teachers get Sunday off, so my teacher for one day was Maria, the owner of the school. Language school teacher is an interesting career choice for Maria as she hardly speaks any English (maybe she knows French or German or Dutch; there seem to be a lot of Dutch folk in Peru for some reason). If it had been the first or second day of lessons, it may have been a waste of time; however, we ended up being one of my favorite days of the trip. After an agreeable four hours of broken conversation (which is what most my conversations here are like anyway), we had Chinese food for lunch with her two exceptionally pretty little girls. Then they escorted me to the bus station. It was so sweet that I almost wanted to stay for another week of lessons! However, I made my way to Puno, on the shores of Lake Titicaca, the highest large lake in the entire world.

Puno was a relatively short visit: one day exploring the city, which has no outstanding highlights, but I found fascinating nonetheless, and one day in Uros, the collection of 45 floating islands, built entirely of reeds. ] In addition to Uros, there are natural islands near Puno, which are popular, but the undisputed highlight of Lago Titicaca is Isla del Sol, on the Bolivian side. With that knowledge in mind, as well as a “sure, why not another country?” attitude, I took a bus to Copacabana, Bolivia. Do you remember the scene in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid when they arrive in Bolivia? A few roosters and a sheep troll around, but most of the movement is in the wind. This is a little like Copacabana. Outside of the biggest cities, South America is famously and pleasantly slow. Bolivia must be the slowest country. Even in the main thoroughfare, a car or a bus may come through every ten minutes. On the side roads, seemingly never. There is no Wifi in the entire town (yet another delay to my first posting) nor are there ATMs (which caused issues for me as well as pretty much everyone else I met. By God, we do get used to our conveniences.). The town is not empty, though. There are a lot of coffee shops and the best selection of English language books I’ve found to date. There is an impressive cathedral and a few short hikes rising around the town. So the slowness is nice. It becomes truly idyllic, though, when you stay at the small paradise that is Hotel Cúpula. Cúpula is up on the mountainside overlooking the town and the bay. There are four courtyards with hammocks and stone tables, a solar-powered hot tub ($2.15 extra), and what my guidebook describes as the best restaurant in town ($6-7 for a meal, including a glass of wine). Much as when I wrapped up my first entry, I am laying in a hammock as I type. The sea is to my left, and a hummingbird is feeding on the flowers to my right. In two hours, I depart for Isla del Sol, birthplace of the Sun and the first two people in the world.

Suerte,
Gregorio

PS. More pics at:

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Comments

[Da]

no ATMs
My bad, it never occurred to tell you that there are no ATMs. Still, on my adventures no solar powered hot tub. Yin-Yang ypung grasshopper. To save you additional time, there are no cocoa leaves or Piso alcohol sold in Pinellas. Get over both before you return. I too love the third world for their appreciation of small things.