Peru Diary

Peru-February 4-28, 2011

February 5

Hola!
Just landed in Lima. Customs was a breeze, very pleasant clerks, and lots of counters, my luggage came with me, thank goodness. The last time I was in this part of the hemisphere, in Ecuador, my luggage went to Bogota and never got to me until I returned to Atlanta, with my new leather backpack, packed inside missing. Had to peel off my sweat shirt, it’s summer here. I have to recheck my luggage to Cuzco, and the first flight out is at 5:45 this morning, arrived here at 12:20 AM so I’m hanging out here at Starbucks. There’s no time difference, direct flight was under 7 hours. Cuzco is in the highlands, so it should be cooler there.
Metty

Feb 6

It hardly snows in Cuzco but the altitude feels like you’re on the ski slopes. Got a slight headache but acclimatizing shouldn’t be a problem. My host serves hot steeped dry coca leaves to cure any discomfort, I could easily become addicted. My host family is great, They don’t speak any English, and for the past 24 hours I’ve been having conversations only in Spanish, and though in broken grammar we’ve gotten acquainted and I’m sure I’d get better speaking it every day. That’s my reason for volunteering in this program. Did you think I’ve gone soft and gone into charitable goody goody work? I have to pay to volunteer in this program and they have sites all over the world and many in Latin america, so I figured if I like them I can continue my Spanish language program with them. From the airport Cuzco looks derelict, with rubble and trash on the streets and abandoned construction projects, but the historical city center, the hub of tourism, is quite charming, with hilly narrow cobblestone alleys, Spanish tile rooftops, and antique churches, framed by the sky and the mountains. The Indians come to the city from the highlands in their colorful costumes to make money off the tourists selling woven items, paintings, leather,etc. Llamas are strolling in car and bus traffic. I took a picture of this kid with his burro, after which he extended his hand for a propina. Oh well, the tourists have educated him already. Plaza de Armas is full of tourists. It was drizzling this afternoon, but as soon as the showers stopped, people streamed into the plaza and filled the benches. There are wonderful restaurants that I need to try very soon, for lomo saltado, and grilled guinea pig, llama, alpaca, goat, etc. The boutiques lining the plaza are stocked with beautifully designed silver and stone jewelry, alpaca apparel, leather goods that are to die for, except they are very expensive, in the high fashion designer price range, so I opted to stay alive. I did buy an alpaca sweater from the Indians for 40 Nuevo Sol, about $15.
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Feb 7

Rik, the Peru country coordinator, who is from Holland, took me out to dinner for orientation at Marcelo Batabata restaurant where I had grilled alpaca with Peruvian chili sauce, Alpaca meat is touted to have many health benefits, very lean with healthy fat and antioxidants. Where it was the staple for the highland Indians it has now become beyond the reach of ordinary folks, and only the tourists can afford to eat it. It is very lean, I ordered it medium, it has a bland taste, not gamey at all, forgettable. I’ve had lomo saltado and I’m back at home with the dish, it is exactly as we cook it back home, strips of beef sauteed in onions, jullienne carrots and potatoes and peas. I am awaiting recommendations for the best place to go for cuy, guinea pig. The young women here booked with the same familly with me have tried it. They are from the Netherlands, those dreamy, adventurous, idealistic sort, blonde, blue-eyed, tall and slim, they did not rave about it.
I am in a one-one intensive Spanish course, for 2 hours daily. My opening session with Jose Renzo, my instructor, left me with a headache. 2-hours non-stop conversation on a wide array of topics from food to politics, he corrected me as we went along, and paused to expand on some grammatical points, and that’s my class. I like the method, and I’m looking forward to my next session.
There’s a cafe here, the Meeting Place, run as a non-profit, to support some children and women’s shelter. One of the blondes will be volunteering in a program in Iquitos, in the Amazon, to work with children to encourage them to attend schools. It is run by 2 women from Holland. The San Blas School, where I’m taking my language class is co-owned by a Dutch who married a local woman, the daughter in fact of my host. There are also a lot of German youth in the volunteer corp. I’m wondering how these all came about. In the cafe, overheard conversations are about program funding and charity good works being launched by individuals. I’m getting curious about all these. Cuzco, outside of the historic center is poor, majority population is indigenous. My host family is considered wealthy by local standards, but there’s no running hot water except the shower, and it’s tepid at best. They hardly eat out and the premises is very basically furnished, they don’t go to theaters or have drinks in a bar. The children have some college but they’re not in a profession. Tourism is a major industry and my host’s children are working in it. I have ambivalent feelings about all the good people from foriegn countries doing non-sectarian missionary works here, not to exclude those who are here to proseletyze religion. They are all the same to me. It’s a premise in doing this kind of thing that one is disadvantaged and the other is superior. It reckons for me the colonial Philippines under 300 years of Spanish rule, and 50 years of American, albeit paternalistic, imperialism. Though we like to see ourselves as Americanized, it’s all surface veneer. Our post independence history and cultural identity have a lot more in common with the countries of Colonial Spain, we are family. BTW, one has to be sensitive here about how to use America. If asked where are you from, it’s offensive to say I’m American, for that’s coopting all the Americas, North and South and Center. You have to be specific, say I am from the United States.
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Feb 8

I had a most amazing day! The clinic I’m supposed to work in doesn’t know what to do with me. I got the feeling I’m just a nuisance. There are tons of patients in the downstairs waiting hall, and Sister Paulina’s computer is acting up and she has an IT person there trouble shooting it. She has no time to orient me and to find a department for me to work in where my language limitation will not be a factor. She asked me if I wanted to accompany her to visit a clinic in the mountain. She has some parochial business to attend to in Zurite, with Sister Matilde and Father Nicanor. It is over an hour’s drive from Cusco. Just outside the city we stopped for a bag of coca leaves. I’m apprised that chewing them will help us adjust to the altitude. The indigenous people rely on it to give them energy while working the fields all day, and it also helps to curb hunger. When we arrived in Zurite, we stood in line in one of the cubby holes of the municipal building. I found out they were there to meet with the mayor but he’s not in. Sounds familiar? It’s very much like the Philippines here. People take their time for appointments, we’ll get there when we get there, and they just show up without giving advance notice, but they don’t mind when the person is not in. The mayor will be back in the afternoon, and in the meantime we went to see another person. We drove through very narrow dirt roads bordered by low shacks constructed of bricked straw and clay with Spanish tile roofs. Then we came to a better contructed house and knocked for a long time, without success. We went back to the municipal building and stood in line again, but this time only briefly, for the alcalde, Alberto Tuco, came out and received us. I found out my hosts are paying their respects to the new mayor, because they have a school there. This group is also going to the mountains and holding free medical clinics twice a month, the only medical care available. By this time it was almost 2 PM and I’ve already missed my lunch date with the girls, my Spanish class, and by how it’s going I’ll be also missing my appointment with the tour operator who’s preparing my itinerary after I complete my volunteer work. I’m also wondering if we’ll ever have lunch. The coca leaves sure was working with them but not with me. Along the way, we took a detour, and I found out it’s for my benefit. They want to show me a seldom visited site of impressive Inca ruins, the Tarawasi piedras. Then finally we stopped for lunch in this tiny roadside restaurant. There’s only one dish in the menu, whatever fixings were available from the farm that day. The meal was typical but surprisingly very sophisticated. They always have a primera and a segunda. The first was a corn soup thickened with potato and in the mix were Lima beans and carrots, the broth very nuanced in flavor. The second is braised beef shank with peas,potatoes,carrots and rice. I’m told there are 1300 plus varieties of potatoes in Peru, so it figures in every meal. A condiment accompanying every meal is the Peruvian chili sauce, Aji. It wakes up all the flavor. I offered to pay for lunch and I couldn’t believe the whole thing with chamomile tea with anise for beverage cost 16 soles, or $6.
But the surprise is not over yet. We took another detour and went up a steep hill on narrow dirt and washed out road, the vehicle was groaning, and I was wondering how we’re going to turn around to go down later, then we came up to another Inca ruin, the not yet opened to the tourist site of an amazing half moon carved into thick stone, the Killia Raymi. I don’t doubt it is aligned with some point in the heavens and had something to do with lunar rituals. I didn’t get back to Cusco until dark, and had to make apologies for my in absentia. On second thought, I didn’t miss my Spanish class after all for I had 7 hours of Spanish conversation today.
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Feb 10

The poor is the same all over the world, and for that matter, the rich too. The big difference is between the rich and the poor. Charity, volunteer and missionary work is an industry here. I suppose it’s a win win situation, the haves get their gratification of whatever motives they have in working with the poor and the poor get bread, shelter, shoes, and indebtedness. For an exceptional few, they get opportunity for a different life. Whether they’re better off or not is the question for Solomon.

Anyway, there’s nothing useful for me to do in the clinic. I missed my Spanish classes while taking these all day trips to the mountains so I renegotiated my assignment. Donating money rather than my time would help the clinic more, which is in dire need of basic medical supplies. So all agreed that I will conclude my clinic assignment after 1 week so I can make up my missed Spanish classes in the 2nd week. In exchange for my volunteer work, I gave a donation of supplies to the clinic.

In the meantime Sister Matilde, who practices alternative medicine and who compounds the clinic’s repertoire of herbal treatments gave me a primer on native medicinal plants and how they are used to treat a myriad of ailments. Most fascinating and priceless. Then she let me help in her laboratory, mixing dried herbs, bagging them and labeling and shelving them. Meanwhile, patients come in for consultation and she dispenses the treatment, she also fills prescription from outside doctors. I will do bagging for one more day then I’m done with volunteering. We’ve become friends however, and I have an open invitation to stay in their community house if I return to Cuzco, and to stay with her family in Ariquipa since I’m visiting there. We are also going to the theater tonight to see a performance of Peruvian folk dances. Sister Paulina, who is the director of the clinic invited me to their staff lunch tomorrow. I’m happy, they’re happy.

February 13

Raining in Cusco at midnight when I got back from Machupicchu, and the taxi driver charged me double to get home from the bus stop, mierda!

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February 14


Hola!
I've been cut off from the rest of the world without cellular reception and WiFi in the Amazon jungle and Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world.While the Arab World is in the throes of cataclysmic change, in these 2 places, life goes on pretty much the same every day, only concerned with the basics of living. In Lake Titicaca, the pre-Incan indigenous tribes in the 3 Islands we visited, still keep their centuries old traditions in spite of 300 years of Spanish colonial rule. I've been extremely short of breath trekking in the mountains and climbing hills and my lingering cough does not help. Puno's elevation where Lake Titicaca is is 12,421 ft compared to Aspen's 7950 ft. It will be a breeze skiing in Snowmass and Aspen in March. In Amantani, where we had a home stay overnight, we dressed in traditional costumes, which the natives wear everyday and attended their community dance.The Amazon jungle is immense and teeming with life, but unlike my African safari, the animals are not visible. We woke up at 4 AM just to catch a glimpse of them.
We were lucky to spot 2 species of monkeys, a family of otters, a few birds of prey, and a spectacular clay lick of macaws, parakeets, tucans, parrots. We hooked for piranhas, and they were biting, but I didn't catch any. It rained everyday, a light drizzle for the most part with occasional brief downpours but it was warm so we just ignored the rain and didn't interrupt our program. The Amazon lodge is open to the jungle and there was a red howler monkey outside my room. There is strict ecotourism in the Amazon, and it's not allowed to feed or disturb the animals, so they don't bother the people. The visit to a local shaman was interesting. Naturally, I was the first to try para-para, an aphrodisiac, but it had no effect.

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