Taquile Island

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As my bus from Cuzco rolled into the town of Puno on the shores of Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in all the world, I met Alina, a fellow traveler from Canada fluent in Spanish. As we compared notes on lodging, we agreed to share a taxi, and then a hostel room, and she later ended up rearranging her calender to spend an extra day with me on an overnight homestay to Taquile Island, the nearby weaving and knitting community.

I was really glad, because until then, I was the only one scheduled to go on this non-touristy trip where I would stay overnight with a family that lives in a more remote side of the island, not as well traveled by outsiders. Although nearby Amantani Island had 25 people signed up for a homestay, I didn't want big tours and large groups of people. I wanted scenery and hiking, and interacting and talking with people in Peru, and I wanted Taquile because that is where the knitting and weaving is done. But I also didn't want to be the only one going overnight either, so joining forces with Alina was perfect.

So after finalizing plans with Soledad at the tour operator office, we found a clean hostel around the corner and near the main square, where we are promised hot showers with five minutes notice. Perfect. Soledad recommended a restaurant, where we split a tough and chewy local Alpaca dish and drank Pisco Sours.

After dinner, we strolled through an open air market, buying something from every single stall down the line, lulled by the cheaper prices than in Cuzco and encouraged by the vendors, until we get to the end of the stalls. By this time, we're exhausted, and can´t find our way back to the hostel, and instead jump into a tricycle taxi by the side of the street, agree on a fare, and hand him the card the hostel gave us with the address. Surprisingly, it is a motorized trike, sort of, and we sputter along the crowded roads, driving a bit aimlessly, causing us to yell from the back "no es lejos! no es lejos!" it's not far, it's not far! The driver stops to ask a police officer for directions (he has to stop anyway, the motor conks out), and we turn around, making our way back to more familiar territory. Finally we stop, and our driver jumps out to find us rolling around the floor laughing hysterically, because here we realize we are a half a block from where we started, and almost directly in front of our hostel. I can't believe it! Either he scammed us, which it didn't seem like it, or he was just as clueless as us. We shower (hot showers!) and pack and get ready for the next day.

We are picked up for a tour the next day on a very nice fast boat to first the Uros Islands, which are artificial islands made entirely of reeds, stacked on top of each other as the bottom wears out. Pretty touristy, but kind of interetsting walking around the squishy island, tasting the reed (pretty good) and taking a little ride in a boat also made out of these reeds.

Then we went to Taquile, where Quechua is their first language, Spanish second, where the men knit since the age of 5, make all their own clothes, and wear white and red hats if single, red with intricate patterns if married, along with vests like Spanish bullfighters, and where the girls wear bouncy layers of bright red skirts, and where there is no electricity and no cars.

After the day tour trippers leave, it is just Alina and I and our adorable and very sweet local guide and host, Delfine, who takes us on a hike around the island, to the little square, the weaving workshop, and out walking again. We pass older men knitting as they walk down the path! Then we come across a five year old knitting on a rock and passing the afternoon. I can´t believe it!

Back at Delfine's little house we will stay at for the night, Alina and I sit in the grass with the terraces leading down to the lake below us, and across to the snowy mountains of Bolivia as our view. Not long, children come by, a blanket is put down, and I ask each of them write their names and ages in my notebook as they arrive and introduce themselves (Natalia, Delia Inez, Juana Luz, Jorge, little two year old Clever, Alicia, Inez, little Edeth...) They are so enchanting! We want to just eat them up! We especially want to bounce baby Clever on our knee, but he is too afraid of us, and prefers his relatives, who pass him around.

They all speak Spanish very well, even though it is not their first language. Each time I introduce myself as Jennifer, they smile. It turns out there is another Jennifer on the island, although I never get a chance to meet her.

As dark comes in, they get up and dance, and we can see the girls' flouncy skirts are made for this! I jump up and dance too, and although it keeps me warm, I don´t last very long in the altitude. Puno and the islands are even higher than Cuzco, and my body knows it.

Dinner is by candlelight, with Eufrasia, Delfine and Natalia's mother, and Delfine, and another young man Wiliam, and various other children and relatives. Alina, fresh out of a 6 month internship with Unesco, and a future with a career involving human rights, and with the ability to communicate in a language they understand (Spanish), quizes Eufrasia and Delfine extensively on whether having tourists coming to their quiet world is a good thing or not... and it appears it is, as we learn the father has passed away, and they seem happy to have the work and the money it provides. They seem so busy though, and it sometimes appears the tour company that brought us here acts condescending (which we know especially since Alina can translate for me what they are saying to them).

With the dishes gone, Alina and I teach Delfin and Wiliam a bit of English words and phrases, writing them down, and having them practice pronounciation. Any word with 'th' is very difficult for them to say, and they just giggle with the effort. It is pretty cute! We ask them what words they want to know, and they are all tourist related, "Do you want more.." "Are you tired?"

Finally we go to bed, and it is freezing cold! I have a down sleeping bag, but Alina piles about 15 wool blankets above her, and Delfin comes in bringing more. No heat here!

We wake up for the sunrise, and take pictures, and Alina heads back for bed. I find 9 year old Natalia in the courtyard, and she takes me a for an early morning walk down by the water, pointing out what she sees along the way to me.. the fisherman in the water, the birds, the field "where the cows play", all whispered to me in Spanish. She is so cute! We pass "Abuelita", grandmother, carrying two big buckets of water up to the house. Everyone works hard here.

The morning passes by, a few more travelers stop by, bringing with them a guide who brings books in Spanish for the children, saying they need to learn Spanish, so they can learn English, so they can have tourists. They speak well, but not so much reading, I guess. Little shy 5 year old Jorge finally warms up to me and sits in my lap while I read him his new pirate book! Alina took a picture. He looks up at me and not at the pictures though, giggling, I'm sure because of my silly accent speaking Spanish!

Then we have to leave! Abruptly! We have a boat to catch all the way on the other side of the mountain, and Alina has a bus to catch directly after that in Puno that very afternoon. 13 year old Delia Luz is enlisted to show us the way, and she takes us on a steep agonizing path up the island, and then across and down 500 steps to the dock on the other side, while we are huffing and puffing, trying to keep up with her in the altitude.

Then we can't find our boat! Not there. We do find another boat, and the captain is grumpy but he lets us jump on. This is not a fast boat like the first one, and we have a 3 hour trip to look forward to....I have a pleasant enough trip though, knitting and chatting with the crew on the top deck while Alina takes a nap below.

A half an hour before we start to get to Puno, the crew starts handing out life jackets. This is strange?? Maybe it is to show authorities on land?? Anyway, I put it on when I notice all the crew wearing one! Not everyone gets one though, maybe because they don't have enough? I'm not sure. But everything seems fine.....until about 10 mintues later when the engine conks out! They are out of gas, it appears. Wonderful, you would think they would have figured out how much gas it takes for this trip. One of the crewmembers milks it, working the engine until we get a bit closer, and then takes out a huge stick and literally pulls us to shore with it. We are freaking out of course, since Alina has that bus to catch. Willy from the tour agency is waiting at the dock (he had bought the bus ticket for Alina) and we have to run again for the taxi. But she makes it to the bus! Happy travels Alina!

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Photos

Taquile Island and Lake Titicaca
With Bolivia off into the distance.

Hats for Sale
This is the island of knitters and weavers.

Here is the house we stayed at
It consisted of a separate rooms around a little courtyard, a kitchen, a dining room, our bedroom, and a two story little house where I guess everyone else lives.

Natalia Dancing
Notice all the layers of her skirts.

Natalia and I
Beautiful and friendly Natalia, Delfine's sister.

Alina and Delfine, our guide and host
Although Delfine's first language is Quechua, he speaks Spanish.. Both Alina and I enjoy talking to him as we take a walk around the island. He is so patient and so nice! He has a white hat showing he is single.

Alina bundled up in bed with a thousand layers of wool blankets
It's really cold here at night!

Uros Island Heron
The island and it's houses all made out of reed.

The men do the knitting here
They don't seem to follow a pattern. How do they do it? I tried asking, and it seems the family passes down the knowledge.

Natalia and I again
Playing cards in the afternoon.

Lovely Edeth!
5 year old Edeth. I think she is Natalia and Delfine's cousin.

Jorge has a dance of his own
5 year old Jorge

Natalia and I in the morning
I had just woken up to see the sunrise (why I look sleepy) and Natalia is up and wants to take a walk.

Comments

[Kim]

Amazing
Jenn: You are an amazing writer. I feel like I'm there. Thank you so much for such great stories and beautiful pictures. Those children warm my heart. Miss you. See you soon.