But.... Its alpaca!

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Arequipa

Walked around Arequipa all day with some friends that I met at the hostal, a couple from San Diego, Mike and Jackie. A English guy, Jeremy who is currently living in Ireland. And another lady, Penni, from England. They had all been volunteering in Pisco rebuilding homes and helping the communities.

The White city def. lives up to its name. Beautiful Spanish colonial arcitecture, with the most elaborate buildings made of the white volcanic stone from the area. The churches and government buildings are covered in carvings and molds, with huge columns.

We ended up checking out several markets and doing some souvenier shopping and pricing. Looking at everything from sweaters, hats, scarves, slippers, bags, everything you can think of as a Peruvian export. Asking the price at most the places, we would always say, ah, thats too much money, and everytime, without fail, they would reply " But, its alpaca" somehow suggesting that it was a rare and priceless thing in these parts of the world. It kind of became an inside joke for the remainder of our time together, pointing at any random thing and saying, oh buts its alpaca, dont worry...

Penni, Mike and Jackie all had spanish lessons that day, so Jeremy and I wandered into the local market area, where it was just nuts. The street was packed with the usual loco taxi drivers and hundreds of people, in one area it was booth after booth after booth of meat and fruits and veggies, then out into the streets tiny shops lined right next to each other containing the exact same thing for blocks. 50 or so music shops, just as many fabric shops and just as many selling nuts and various types of chips. Each store was less than 10X10 and you could not even walk into them. It was actually a little scary with the amount of people running around. At one Point, we saw a taxi stalled sideways in the middle of the road, with a couple of guys changing a tire, great place to pick I would say.

We made it back to the hostal for an early Carb loading dinner of Spagetti that Mike prepared for the group, for the hike ahead of us.

Colca Canyon and Malata

We had to wake up very early, 3am for our trip. Although the bus did not show up until quarter to 4. Go figure, this is S. America time. Most people were able to sleep on the bus, but the road was incredibly bumpy and I had a very hard time. Although I didnt mind, once the sun started coming out, the scenery was stunning. We started going up and up through wetlands and fields surrounded by snow-capped peaks. The drive was about 4 hours and we arrived in the small town of Chivay, where we stopped only for a bathroom break and then continued down the road to Condor del la Cruz. Which is a great viewpoint of the canyon, and susposed to be a good viewing point for the Andean Condors. Quechuan woman dressed in traditional wear were waiting trying to sell us the usual fair, Jackie bought some coca cookies and shared them with us. they were pretty good. After an hour of photo taking and no Condors, we climbed back in the bus and continued to the village of Cabanaconda. It was such a cute town with mostly dirt and cobblestone streets. Our guides prepared us breakfast and we were on our way.

The hike was steep and rough. We went down approx. 4000 ft. in about 3 miles. The path was full of loose rocks and at points very steep. When we would stop for a breather, my legs would shake, so I had to keep on moving. After about 2.5 hours, we arrived at "the Oasis" and it started to downpour. Mike and Jeremy decided to enjoy the pool regardless of the rain, and they looked freezing. We stayed under a thatched roof, (with a tarp too, Cheaters!) for a couple of hours and as the rain let up we made our way back up the other side of the canyon towards the small village of Malata. Going up the other side was not as steep, we only had to go up about 1500 ft, and it actually felt great after all the downhill, but the break had taken it out of me, and I was growing very tired. After an hour and a half, we arrived.

Malata is a very small village, consisting of 15 extended families, it sits on a large hillside, at 8752ft, surrounded by terraced farmland. Main street was a thin dirt road, more like a trail, no cars have access to the village, everything is brought in by mule. We had the honor of staying with a local family in a small outbuilding constructed of adobe bricks and tin roofing. They were very primative. The bed frames were constructed out of wood, rope and corn stalkes. Their houses are structured into several building, such as the kitchen in one, bedrooms in a few other buildings and the small outhouses, along with some guest houses. The bathroom was a little tin shack with a small, short wooden toilet. In order to flush things down, a large basin of water sat next to it and you used a bucket to add water where waste was shot down the pipes. The family prepared us a meal and brought it down to us along with tables and chairs. Every meal was served with medicinal tea, a minty lemon, coca, eucalyptus, and some others I didnt know. The squash soup was by the far the best soup I have had in my life. We all crashed pretty early.

The next day was by far the best of my vacation thus far. We awoke to a great homemade breakfast. Everything that is served is grown or collected locally. They have over 200 alpacas, chickens, quail, mules, guinea pigs, pigs and they grow everything from squash, cactus, corn, avacodos, fruit trees and more. Even the salt is harvested from rocks in the surrounding mountains. My vegan diet has most definatly been compromised, for some reason they seem to think that eggs are vegetarian. Due to the nature of where it came from, I feel ok about it. My stomache may not agree with me entirely on that point, and that is me putting it nicely for you.

Doris and Modesto, the family we stayed with, run the museam in town, a room about 10 X 8 or so. Doris gave us a quick in depth tour and showed us the various way they used to grind corn and other grains into flour. Mostly using various rocks to slide or roll against other rocks. The grains that had to be first separated from their sheaths were placed in a wicker basket and then danced on by the women for an entire day before being transfered to the rock grinders. We were also shown the ropes for hunting which could be made of Alpaca or a palm and weaved into a rope with a wide center, and then swung around with a rock to hit animals. There was a shelf full of the local animal and the various tools for working the field which we were going to use later. Doris also explained the differences in the traditional clothing for Amuraya and Quechan woman of the Andes.

After the museam, we were fit with traditional cloth backpacks, which only take Doris 3 days to weave ( it would have taken me years) and given tools to work the field. The boys a curved wooden pole with a dull machete like aparatus and foot peg for plowing. The woman were given a flat, double pointed board. We carried them down into the terraces and stopped under a large tree.

In February, The family gives back to Mother Earth, so we first prepared an offering before working the field. Modesto presented each item on a piece of paper. A base of an aromatic herb, known as Konuka, which looked similar to rosemary. On top he placed 6 pieces of alpaca fat each representative of the mountain peaks surrounding Malata, Apacheta, Shulloka, Chiamarka, Cipringia, Jhakohena, and Cochaorko. Next 3 coca leaves and seeds of the coca plant were added. Then one piece of gold and one piece of silver. Finally 12 pieces of the 3 varieties of corn, to represent the 12 months of the year. We were given the traditional drink, made of corn, Chicha, first pouring a small amount out for Pachomama (mother earth) and then drinking. Our necks were decorated with a rainbow of ribbon and then Modesto brought the offering to each of us and we gave three breaths to it in turn. He chanted over the offering and then placed it in the fire. When the kernals popped, we would be granted with good luck for the season.

We moved on to the field, weeding a small area. The boys used their plows, counting 1 2 3, in different languages for fun, and pressed the soil into the air. Then we went behind them with our sticks and broke up the clumps. We did not work very long as it was muddy and Modesto was just giving a demonstration. So we returned to the tree and were fed the fruit of the local cactus, Tuna, yeah its called Tuna, but I promise you, sooo much better. It tastes like a mix between a pomegranate and a mango. It was extremely satiable.

Mike and Jeremy were sent down to the corn field to collect a bundle of stalks each to carry on their backs up to the main housing area. Then we removed all the corn from the husks, feeding the remainder to the Cui, or guinea pigs. We were then moved to a pile of corn which had been drying for 6 months, to begin the process of making Chicha. We husked the corn first, then removed and separated kernals, being careful to pick each and every kernal off the ground for use. Then we moved into the kitchen.

The wood fire stove was created from local soils mixed with some alpaca fat to prevent its deterioration. Doris demonstrated how to roast the kernals in a black pot with a large stick, stirring rapidly for several minutes. Each of us were given a turn, and out of the group, I did get the best review (fewest burnt kernals). The rest of the goup was given either a mas y menos, or no bueno with a discusted look and chuckle from Doris. Then we layed out the roasted kernals on some fabric and carefully separated the burnt ones (which we chowed down on because it tasted like popcorn, much to the dismay of Doris). We then each took a turn milling the roasted kernals into flour. Another type of corn was added, unroasted to the mill. They presented us with an alternative type of corn which was roasted and salted as a snack, and it was quite delicious.

To make the Chicha, A large pot of water was boiled with sugar and the milled corn mixture. It had to sit for several hours and then it is fermented for at least two days. While the mixture was boiling, we were sent outside, to learn yet another aspect of their everyday living.

On the ground was a large pile of alpaca wool, dirty and clumpy. As the boys cleaned the spools of the good yarn, we started to clean every little speck of wool out of the wool. Doris then demonstrated with ease and perfection how to tie a small knot at the top of the spool, which looks like a top with a dowl stuck in it, and then spin spin spin. Magically the wool turns to an even perfect thread, which can then be used for weavings. We each got a lesson, wrapping the large chunk of wool several times around our wrists, and in between our fingers. We had to pull the wool thin, then spin and spin, unting the knot, wrapping it up, and then repeating the process again. I spent quite a while and never got anything close to what Doris could do. Mine was clumpy and uneven, but it would have made a nice funky scarf, in my opinion.

During another part of the day, we caught Modesto slicing meat out back, and he informed us that it was alpaca, his slicing skills were amazing, and he was hanging them to dry with salt to make jerky. There was also a small pile of what looked like cat litter, and upon further investigation, we discovered it was very soft. I picked a little up and squished it between my fingers. The most beautiful blood red color stained my hands and I was estatic, squishing and rubbing it around. I later found out that the mystery substance was basically bug poop from insects that live in the Tuna Cactus. Go figure. They used it for dying thread, and if they want an orange color, they just add some lemon.

After a full day of insiting from the boys, the family gave in and decided to let them assist in a killing and preparation of Cui, guinea pig, for dinner. Penni and Jackie did not want to watch so they went on tour of the village and the next one just down the path. I decided that this was a once in a lifetime experience that I was not going to miss. Plus they needed someone to take photographs.

Judy, the eleven year old daughter, who also sold us beer from the "store", assisted her father in selecting the proper Cui. They chased them around their small enclosure while the guinea pigs scattered. Upon getting the one he wanted, Modesto flipped them upside down, showing us the private parts, proclaiming "Macho!". The death was quicker than I could have imagined, a rapid downward pull and the poor guy went completely limp. The process was repeated with a second. We named the two that gave themselves to us Bill and Bob.

In order to de-fur the cui, they were dropped in boiling water for 4 seconds and then placed in an open bowl, which strangly resembled the lid to a large rubbermaid garbage can. The fur was pulled out rapidly until it became tough, and then the cui was dipped again. You are going to be suprised, but I actually assisted with this task. I know, I am sure branching out. But I did want to participate, and I thought this was the best stage in which to be involved. Next they were brought outside and placed into another container. This was the same container which our dishes were washed in... ok a little gross. Modesto demonstrated using the blade of a knife at an angle to finish cleaning and de-furing the cui, which were starting to look much more like rodents at this point.

At one point, Modesto had to remove and thoroughly clean the genital and butt of the animals. He glanced up at us with his finger innovativly placed and laughed a gremlin, creepy laugh... smiling away. I dont know why but it was so funny we all busted up, it almost brought me to tears. We all laughed for a few minutes and then the cleaning resumed. Who knew slaughter could be funny? The knife cleaning was continued with intermitten rinses and water changes several times, until the animal was ready to be gutted. Modesto slid a knife through the stomach, carefully to not damage any organs, and then removed everything inside, keeping the liver for himself for a meal or something. Then the chin was cut open, and all the blood that had stayed in the head was rinsed out. The cui were then given to Doris, who boiled them in a sauce for dinner.

While dinner was cooking, we all recieved coca-readings from modesto, in turn from eldest to youngest (I was last in line). It was kind of like tarot reading or something, but Modesto just had a huge back of coca and used a coat or shirt of ours and threw them about and read the patterns. Apparently if you saw the right side of the coca it was good and the bottom side was, not so good. Everyone asked about pretty much the same thing and got, more or less, good news. I asked about Brian, and he said that he was far away and thinks about me, but there are other women! Uh oh, Brian is in big trouble. 😊 haha. I also asked about permanate work and he showed me a good path with had a few troublesome leaves in the way. So some day I will get there. Then I asked about my parents and if they would ever get out of their money troubles. He explained that there were a few small problems but nothing to worry about. He showed a leaf representing me that was missing a part near my representative head and said I was not good in the head about it, basically meaning, I worry too much.

It was entertaining, and we were finally served dinner. It was spagetti and cui on the side. And, dont gasp, I did try a few bites of the Cui. I know I know, such a suprise, but I know this would be a once in a lifetime opportunity and once I didnt taste the Royal Rat in the Cayo Jungle, Belize when it was presented to us and I actually kind of regret that. It was actually good, but a bit fatty tasting.

The group sat around a shared a couple beers, bought from the 11 year old. We eventually made it to bed, because the next morning would be another early start for hiking. 5 am.

The next morning, we woke up and got all of our gear together, and said our goodbyes. Jackie and I decided to rent mules to take us up the other side of the mountain. Not because we couldnt or didnt want to hike, but it was only about $15 and when would we get the chance to ride mules in Peru again? We eached named our mules, mine "Chocolate thunder", hers "Caramello" and another girl who had stayed the previous night called hers "Happy Ending".

We tried to get them to race, but they were almost as slow going as our hiking partners. Taking breaks every few minutes. Penni surprised us and kicked butt up the hill, we didnt catch her until almost the top, and she made it in a record 2 hours. I tip my hat to that lady, she is amazing. She beat the guys and our guides by at least 30 minutes.

On the way home, we stopped in Chivay for a break and lunch. Then continued the 4 hour bus ride back to the hostal. The trip was so foggy and dense that I have no clue how the driver even saw the road. So good thing we got all those good views on the way there. We arrived back at the hostal, worn out and we all showered and talked. I went to bed feeling fullfilled and ready for my next leg of the trip, a long bus ride that started at 7am the next morning. I would be leaving Peru, and heading South. Into Chile.

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Comments

[Eric]

Hey Lacy, I really enjoyed reading your Peru post. It reminded me of my time there. My blog is looking for travel photos to post. If you have time, email us some at [e-mail] or check us out at dirty-hippies.blogspot.com Continued fun on your travels, Eric