So, this week has been...interesting. We've carted ourselves off near the jungle to white water raft on a tributary of the Amazon, we've visited a biodiverse, sustainable potato farm ran by self-determining indigenous communities, and now we're packing our things and preparing for our grand hike tomorrow---starting at 4:30 am sharp.
So, white water rafting. Alex enjoys such deadly adventures. I am quite reasonably horrified of water--especially fast moving water that slams into rocks and falls over small cliffs. But, Alex came horseback riding with me, so, I promised to go rafting. So we sought out a nice place that seemed legit, put on some sunscreen, and headed towards the river. The Urubamba River, to be precise, which is a head water of the Amazon! So, we arrive at the base camp, suit up in some sleek looking wet suits, put on some quite large and uncomfortable yellow jackets, life vests, helmets, etc, etc and head to our boats--erm, rafts.
So the two hour section of river that we rafted was apparently a level 3, though some parts were so incredibly dangerous (due to the large rocks and whirlpools) that we actually had to walk (or rather, climb) the coastal cliffs around the river to safer spots.
Anyway, it was actually quite fun. Despite the extreme upper body strength required and the amazingly freezing cold water that continually filled the bottom of the raft (causing us to lose all feeling in our extremities). Also, during intense sections of the rafting, because our raft had an uneven number of 5 people, I was placed in the middle of the front--sort of like a ship mast--where I faced the sloshing cold water head on (and, thus, ended up being incredibly soaked, under my wetsuit). Afterwards, we had lunch (which, of course, was a fried egg), and sat in a most wonderful sauna to warm up. Then Alex and two other people chose to zip line across the river, TWICE! It looked pretty exciting, but I had most definitely had my fill of adventure for the day.
After returning to Cusco we had planned to visit condors--which will probably never actually happen--but instead we finally found a day to head to Potato Park. This is a biodiversity reserve where six indigenous communities collaborate on sustainable farming (not just of potatoes, but of other Andean varieties of plants too). Anyway, Pablo has a friend who works with people in Potato Park, and so we received a pretty intimate tour. After stopping for lunch at a famous quinoa soup restaurant in Pisac, we headed on up to the park. There, our guide explained everything to us in as much detail as our Spanish would allow--about Andean medicinal plants, about the history and work of the campesinos, about the indigenous communities there, about discrimination, about medical clinics for the community, and so on and so forth. We stopped a couple of times along the way to meet with locals. Once we even got to go inside a construction zone where campesinos were communally building a new house out of adobe and Eucalyptus wood. Once at the potato museum and instruction school, our guide performed a sacred rite to the mother earth--showing us how to do so too. This was a pretty interesting and quite relative ceremony. Afterwards, we met some Quechua girls who were grinding hay/wheat with two burros walking around in a circle. We got to try, and were rather bad at it, but the girls were amused. Anyway, after that, some men came from a nearby mountain to show us the structure of the park, how the communities were arranged, and the gazillion different varieties of potatoes they grow there. They explained about how different communities grow different varieties, depending on altitude and taste desires. They physically showed us about 80 different types of potatoes, explaining the taste and cooking methods of each one, and what each one is used for culturally (for instance, some potatoes represent women and are given to husbands on wedding nights). Other potatoes are used as medicines, or for sacred rituals, and so on. It was quite amazing.
Tonight, however, we are facing the Peruvian stresses of preparing for Machu Picchu. Stress number 1: we were supposed to receive an orientation last night, but the hiking guides never showed up. Finally, tonight, they showed up an hour late. BUT at least they showed up. They showed us the map (the 36 mile long map), explained each day in detail, and answered all of our questions. So that was good. However, right before they arrived we were informed that we had to pack our stuff and leave our apartment because new students are coming tomorrow---SAY WHAT? So in a frenzy we harassed the owner of the apartment, asking sensible questions such as "where do we put our things, where do we stay when we get back?" etc. etc. His answers were along the lines of "I have somewhere to put your things, I don't know where you go when you get back." Of course. So, despite our extreme hunger, we called our program director after the hiking guides left and demanded answers (nicely demanded, that is...or maybe rather, asked what was up). We ate some curry, returned to our apartment, and were then informed (as we were trying to borrow an extra bag from the owner) that we actually get to keep our room and we can leave our things there. Huzzah! Huzzah! So, all the stress from today ended up not really being stressful at all. Now, though, we have to shower and prepare for our incredible journey that begins tomorrow, bright and early.
So, see you later! In five days! (After which, we get to head back to the States!!!!! Tofu sandwiches! Veggie BBQ! Paneer Tikka Masala! Malai Kofta! mmmmmm)
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Island Adventurers
So, Saturday morning Alexander, our roommate Aqilah, and myself awoke early to meet Pablo so that we could visit the amazing condors before leaving for the rainforest. Pablo,surprisingly, arrives somewhat on time but informs us that snow has blocked most of the passes out of Cusco. So, he has booked us a trip to Puno for that night! Well, we didn't really have the option of saying no, and we were intrigued about Puno (as it has been closed for some time now), so we decided to do it.
So, at about 9:00 pm a woman in a van comes to pick us up, she takes us to the bus station, purchases our tickets, shows us how to pay the tax, and leaves in the care of the bus attendants. However, once on the bus, we realized that the woman had given us the wrong tickets for this departure...she had put our tax stamps on our RETURN tickets....sooooo, after essentially being called incompetent fools by the woman checking the bus tickets, we finally straightened out the ticket situation, retrieved our now torn and marked return tickets, found our correct seats, and settled in for the 7-8 hour long ride to Puno.
The bus was amazingly comfortable. You could lean the very fluffy seats ALL the way back if you wanted (which didn't exactly work out if the person behind you wasn't lying back also, but anyway). Also, there were fold out foot rests! So the ride was pretty nice. All I really remember about it is that we stopped at some point along the way and it was snowing heavily outside. So, anyway, we arrive at the Puno bus station at about 5 a.m. Supposedly, someone was going to retrieve us. However, two freezing, rainy cold hours later, still no person. So we had some hot chocolate, hung out, walked around, froze a little, and tried calling every local number we knew. Another hour later found us hopelessly sitting in some cold, plastic chairs, still waiting, when a man walked up to us and asked "Alex Munjal?" YES! we all three emphatically screamed and practically ran to his car. He took us to some hostel/hotel in the middle of the city, where we were instructed "to wait." Welll....okay.
Finally, about an hour or so later, the owners? of the hotel told us we had breakfast waiting for us. So we went along, ate some bread, toast, and hot tea while listening to the other hotel attendants party it up in the next room (yes, they were intoxicated at 7:30 in the morning). We returned to the main waiting room where we were told we would return at 4 p.m. that day and that we could leave our things safely with the hotel attendants. So Aqilah takes her bag to the counter, and we head off shortly later with another person who may or may not be our guide. But like everyone else, he knows our names and seems to know where we should be.
Another little bit later, we've picked up a whole van load full of tourists and are being dropped off at Lake Titicaca. We all meander our way down to a boat, settle in, and are informed of the plans. So, here's what we're told: we will return TOMORROW at 4 (not today) and we're going to visit 3 islands: two today and one tomorrow. This sounds pretty exciting, despite the freezing rain and cold. So we embark on our trip. The boat was remarkably comfortable, and the slight churning of the waves created a most relaxing atmosphere as they rocked the boat ever so gently. So, after an hour or so nap, we arrived at the islands known as Uros. These islands are renowned as the "floating islands" of the lake. They are made from shallow water reeds which the Uros people layer to create literal floating islands. The base of the island is formed out of the tangled roots and soil of the reeds, while the top layers are made from dried reeds that are layered in a cross-hatch sort of pattern, to create a solid base. The Uros people utilize these reeds not only for island-building, but also for house-building, and even for eating (though they aren't the tastiest things). Anyway, we visited one of these islands, where we met several locals and visited their houses and shopped their wares. Afterward, we got on one of their pretty amazing and colorful boats (also made of reeds) and sailed to another floating island, where we could visit a market and meet with more locals.
A little bit later we returned to our original boat and set sail in the ever-darkening sky to the island that we would be staying at that night. Braving the fierce cold and freezing dribble of rain, Alex and I climbed to the top of the boat, where we had an amazing view of the beautiful lake, the surrounding mountains, and the snowy peaks of Bolivia in the distance. When we could stand the cold no longer, we returned to our warm seats inside the boat and drifted off to sleep until we arrived at the island Amantani. Once there, we climbed up a narrow trail up the face of a cliff and met with our Quechua families, whom we would be staying the night with. Alex, Aqilah, and I were assigned to a woman named Gladys, who was younger, wore a bright smile, and had endless energy. She dashed up the incredibly steep, slippery, wet trail that led through farms, houses, and the town, to her family home. There we were taken to a surprisingly large room that housed four beds, each with about 6 layers of sheets, blankets, and quilts (thankfully). We immediately passed out from the exhaustion that had been slowly overcoming us throughout the duration of the trip. We had a cold hour or so nap, when Gladys came to wake us up. She led us to their beautiful, rustic kitchen. There was a clay, wood-fired stove with cast iron pots bubbling on top. She was using a Eucalyptus type wood to keep the fire going, so the whole kitchen had this wonderful smoky sage-Eucalyptus smell. Not to mention, the fire was keeping us warm. Anyway, her sister came to join us, and they explained that their parents had went to Puno for a couple of days to buy supplies, so it would just be them with us for tonight. So we had our lunch, which consisted of quinoa and vegetable soup, fried egg with vegetables, rice, and muna tea. Muna is a local herb found throughout the Andes that is similar to mint and is said to be good for stomach problems. Anyway, we had freshly picked muna for our tea, which added to the amazingess of our nice, toasty lunch. After lunch we washed dishes, with Aqilah scrubbing them in freshly boiled water, me rinsing them in cold water, and Alex drying and putting them away.
We were supposed to meet our tourist group at 4:00 pm, but we slightly overslept. After waking up we literally RAN up the side of the mountain, to the top, where our group was still going about its tour of the farms and Incan ruins of the island. We made it all the way to the temple of the father Earth (the mother Earth temple was closed), which overlooked the rest of the island, where we could see the other communities nestled away near the coast lines. At dusk we meandered our way back down, using Alex's medical pen-light as guidance, and returned to our beds. We didn't really fall asleep, but rather huddled for warmth until we couldn't take it any longer. So we stumbled down to the kitchen, where the fire for dinner was already going, and asked if we could help in any way. The sisters shared a glance that pretty much relayed their lack of faith in our abilities, but regardless, they gave us a clay bowl full of small, purple potatoes, a very large knife, and asked us to peel. It took us an incredibly long time, and I'm pretty sure we ended up with more peel than potato, but they thanked us and sent us on our way. A little bit later we had dinner, which consisted of more quinoa soup and rice with mixed vegetables.
We were going to explore the town after this, but it was so incredibly dark, even with Alex's pen-light, that we made it all of 10 feet before retreating back to our lighted dorm (thanks to solar power!). There we, of course, returned to our blankets and drifted off to sleep. During this time the power went out (due the overwhelming amount of rain and incredible lack of sun), and Gladys rushed us a candle, explaining the solar power situation and apologizing for the rain. At about 8:30, she returned, with typical clothes, which she instructed us to put on (or rather, she put mine on for me: two layers of heavy wool skirts, a heavy wool shirt, and a very stiff, thick woven belt that wrapped around me several times and probably could have served as a bullet proof vest). Alex wore a poncho and a chullo (a cap of sorts). Then we headed off to the town hall, where other tourists were dressed up and dancing to traditional music with locals. We danced a round of dancing, Alex had a Cusquena, then we decided we absolutely had to retire for a real full night of rest. While brushing our teeth and preparing for bed, Alex and I were entranced by the amazingly brilliant night sky. There were no lights on Amantani so you could see the stars as big as if they were lamps hanging from nearby villagers' roofs. The light trail of the Milky Way flowed through them, lighting up the black even more. It was one of the most beautiful nights I have ever experienced.
Bright and early at 6:30 the next morning, Gladys woke us up, fed us pancakes with jam, and sent us on our way. We met our tourist group at the shore, thanked our families in Quechua, and headed back to the boat to visit the final island: Taquile. Thankfully the sun was out today and everything...I mean EVERYTHING was crystal blue. The lake, the sky, the mountains--it was amazing. We could see the snowy peaks of Bolivia shining in the distance, the few clouds stood out stark white against the sky, and the sun shimmered on the perfectly clear water. This was our view for the two hours as we rode to Taquile.
Upon arriving we hiked another steep trail, winding around the face of a cliff, until we arrived at a central plaza where the view was even better and clearer than before. We explored this plaza, took pictures, learned about the traditional dress and laws of the people of Taquile, and then headed off to lunch. Lunch was a not-so-wonderful but extremely expensive fried egg with rice. Afterward, we hiked down over 500 steps, straight down the mountain, to the harbor that our boat was waiting in. By this time it was incredibly windy and the waves tossed the boat around as we made our way back to Puno. Even though the boat was thrust back and forth and side to side, it was actually incredibly relaxing. If you closed your eyes it was like sitting in a rocking chair (which, granted, was rocking pretty hard). Anyway, we slept pretty well until we arrived to Puno. Once there we followed our group and boarded a bus, where we were taken back to our hotels. Luckily, Alex remember the name of our "hotel" once the guide said it, and we safely made it back. Afterwards, we wandered around the main tourist strip of Puno, looking for things to eat and things to do until our bus left at 9 p.m. We ate some interesting Mediterranean food (I had bruschetta with figs and red wine sauce), had some hot chocolate, had some ice cream, walked around the plaza, visited several tiendas, and finally made our way to the bus station. From there we had an uneventful, but comfortable, ride back to Cusco.
At about 4 am we arrived in Cusco--super excited about a hot shower (or the closest thing you can get to a hot shower here) and our beds. But, alas, nothing in Peru is so easy. So, we arrive at the apartment and find that it has been bolted from the inside. So, we proceed to knock, bang, yell, and tap for an hour or so--successfully waking up the entire neighborhood, who all came out to ask if we were okay. However, we did not succeed in waking up the person inside. So, at 5:30 in the morning, defeated, cold, and tired, we left the apartment and wandered around Cusco looking for a cheap hostel to sleep in. We finally found one, up some rickety stairs from an artisan market. Two beds crammed incredibly close together with some shady looking sheets, peeling walls, and a very musty smell. It was, however, two beds with lots of blankets. So Aqilah, Alex, and I promptly slipped under our sheets and passed out for 4 hours. Twenty dollars and four hours later, though, we were back in our apartment, showered, and cozied up under our own warm, comfortable (ish) beds.
All in all it was quite an interesting trip that was well, well worth it.
So, at about 9:00 pm a woman in a van comes to pick us up, she takes us to the bus station, purchases our tickets, shows us how to pay the tax, and leaves in the care of the bus attendants. However, once on the bus, we realized that the woman had given us the wrong tickets for this departure...she had put our tax stamps on our RETURN tickets....sooooo, after essentially being called incompetent fools by the woman checking the bus tickets, we finally straightened out the ticket situation, retrieved our now torn and marked return tickets, found our correct seats, and settled in for the 7-8 hour long ride to Puno.
The bus was amazingly comfortable. You could lean the very fluffy seats ALL the way back if you wanted (which didn't exactly work out if the person behind you wasn't lying back also, but anyway). Also, there were fold out foot rests! So the ride was pretty nice. All I really remember about it is that we stopped at some point along the way and it was snowing heavily outside. So, anyway, we arrive at the Puno bus station at about 5 a.m. Supposedly, someone was going to retrieve us. However, two freezing, rainy cold hours later, still no person. So we had some hot chocolate, hung out, walked around, froze a little, and tried calling every local number we knew. Another hour later found us hopelessly sitting in some cold, plastic chairs, still waiting, when a man walked up to us and asked "Alex Munjal?" YES! we all three emphatically screamed and practically ran to his car. He took us to some hostel/hotel in the middle of the city, where we were instructed "to wait." Welll....okay.
Finally, about an hour or so later, the owners? of the hotel told us we had breakfast waiting for us. So we went along, ate some bread, toast, and hot tea while listening to the other hotel attendants party it up in the next room (yes, they were intoxicated at 7:30 in the morning). We returned to the main waiting room where we were told we would return at 4 p.m. that day and that we could leave our things safely with the hotel attendants. So Aqilah takes her bag to the counter, and we head off shortly later with another person who may or may not be our guide. But like everyone else, he knows our names and seems to know where we should be.
Another little bit later, we've picked up a whole van load full of tourists and are being dropped off at Lake Titicaca. We all meander our way down to a boat, settle in, and are informed of the plans. So, here's what we're told: we will return TOMORROW at 4 (not today) and we're going to visit 3 islands: two today and one tomorrow. This sounds pretty exciting, despite the freezing rain and cold. So we embark on our trip. The boat was remarkably comfortable, and the slight churning of the waves created a most relaxing atmosphere as they rocked the boat ever so gently. So, after an hour or so nap, we arrived at the islands known as Uros. These islands are renowned as the "floating islands" of the lake. They are made from shallow water reeds which the Uros people layer to create literal floating islands. The base of the island is formed out of the tangled roots and soil of the reeds, while the top layers are made from dried reeds that are layered in a cross-hatch sort of pattern, to create a solid base. The Uros people utilize these reeds not only for island-building, but also for house-building, and even for eating (though they aren't the tastiest things). Anyway, we visited one of these islands, where we met several locals and visited their houses and shopped their wares. Afterward, we got on one of their pretty amazing and colorful boats (also made of reeds) and sailed to another floating island, where we could visit a market and meet with more locals.
A little bit later we returned to our original boat and set sail in the ever-darkening sky to the island that we would be staying at that night. Braving the fierce cold and freezing dribble of rain, Alex and I climbed to the top of the boat, where we had an amazing view of the beautiful lake, the surrounding mountains, and the snowy peaks of Bolivia in the distance. When we could stand the cold no longer, we returned to our warm seats inside the boat and drifted off to sleep until we arrived at the island Amantani. Once there, we climbed up a narrow trail up the face of a cliff and met with our Quechua families, whom we would be staying the night with. Alex, Aqilah, and I were assigned to a woman named Gladys, who was younger, wore a bright smile, and had endless energy. She dashed up the incredibly steep, slippery, wet trail that led through farms, houses, and the town, to her family home. There we were taken to a surprisingly large room that housed four beds, each with about 6 layers of sheets, blankets, and quilts (thankfully). We immediately passed out from the exhaustion that had been slowly overcoming us throughout the duration of the trip. We had a cold hour or so nap, when Gladys came to wake us up. She led us to their beautiful, rustic kitchen. There was a clay, wood-fired stove with cast iron pots bubbling on top. She was using a Eucalyptus type wood to keep the fire going, so the whole kitchen had this wonderful smoky sage-Eucalyptus smell. Not to mention, the fire was keeping us warm. Anyway, her sister came to join us, and they explained that their parents had went to Puno for a couple of days to buy supplies, so it would just be them with us for tonight. So we had our lunch, which consisted of quinoa and vegetable soup, fried egg with vegetables, rice, and muna tea. Muna is a local herb found throughout the Andes that is similar to mint and is said to be good for stomach problems. Anyway, we had freshly picked muna for our tea, which added to the amazingess of our nice, toasty lunch. After lunch we washed dishes, with Aqilah scrubbing them in freshly boiled water, me rinsing them in cold water, and Alex drying and putting them away.
We were supposed to meet our tourist group at 4:00 pm, but we slightly overslept. After waking up we literally RAN up the side of the mountain, to the top, where our group was still going about its tour of the farms and Incan ruins of the island. We made it all the way to the temple of the father Earth (the mother Earth temple was closed), which overlooked the rest of the island, where we could see the other communities nestled away near the coast lines. At dusk we meandered our way back down, using Alex's medical pen-light as guidance, and returned to our beds. We didn't really fall asleep, but rather huddled for warmth until we couldn't take it any longer. So we stumbled down to the kitchen, where the fire for dinner was already going, and asked if we could help in any way. The sisters shared a glance that pretty much relayed their lack of faith in our abilities, but regardless, they gave us a clay bowl full of small, purple potatoes, a very large knife, and asked us to peel. It took us an incredibly long time, and I'm pretty sure we ended up with more peel than potato, but they thanked us and sent us on our way. A little bit later we had dinner, which consisted of more quinoa soup and rice with mixed vegetables.
We were going to explore the town after this, but it was so incredibly dark, even with Alex's pen-light, that we made it all of 10 feet before retreating back to our lighted dorm (thanks to solar power!). There we, of course, returned to our blankets and drifted off to sleep. During this time the power went out (due the overwhelming amount of rain and incredible lack of sun), and Gladys rushed us a candle, explaining the solar power situation and apologizing for the rain. At about 8:30, she returned, with typical clothes, which she instructed us to put on (or rather, she put mine on for me: two layers of heavy wool skirts, a heavy wool shirt, and a very stiff, thick woven belt that wrapped around me several times and probably could have served as a bullet proof vest). Alex wore a poncho and a chullo (a cap of sorts). Then we headed off to the town hall, where other tourists were dressed up and dancing to traditional music with locals. We danced a round of dancing, Alex had a Cusquena, then we decided we absolutely had to retire for a real full night of rest. While brushing our teeth and preparing for bed, Alex and I were entranced by the amazingly brilliant night sky. There were no lights on Amantani so you could see the stars as big as if they were lamps hanging from nearby villagers' roofs. The light trail of the Milky Way flowed through them, lighting up the black even more. It was one of the most beautiful nights I have ever experienced.
Bright and early at 6:30 the next morning, Gladys woke us up, fed us pancakes with jam, and sent us on our way. We met our tourist group at the shore, thanked our families in Quechua, and headed back to the boat to visit the final island: Taquile. Thankfully the sun was out today and everything...I mean EVERYTHING was crystal blue. The lake, the sky, the mountains--it was amazing. We could see the snowy peaks of Bolivia shining in the distance, the few clouds stood out stark white against the sky, and the sun shimmered on the perfectly clear water. This was our view for the two hours as we rode to Taquile.
Upon arriving we hiked another steep trail, winding around the face of a cliff, until we arrived at a central plaza where the view was even better and clearer than before. We explored this plaza, took pictures, learned about the traditional dress and laws of the people of Taquile, and then headed off to lunch. Lunch was a not-so-wonderful but extremely expensive fried egg with rice. Afterward, we hiked down over 500 steps, straight down the mountain, to the harbor that our boat was waiting in. By this time it was incredibly windy and the waves tossed the boat around as we made our way back to Puno. Even though the boat was thrust back and forth and side to side, it was actually incredibly relaxing. If you closed your eyes it was like sitting in a rocking chair (which, granted, was rocking pretty hard). Anyway, we slept pretty well until we arrived to Puno. Once there we followed our group and boarded a bus, where we were taken back to our hotels. Luckily, Alex remember the name of our "hotel" once the guide said it, and we safely made it back. Afterwards, we wandered around the main tourist strip of Puno, looking for things to eat and things to do until our bus left at 9 p.m. We ate some interesting Mediterranean food (I had bruschetta with figs and red wine sauce), had some hot chocolate, had some ice cream, walked around the plaza, visited several tiendas, and finally made our way to the bus station. From there we had an uneventful, but comfortable, ride back to Cusco.
At about 4 am we arrived in Cusco--super excited about a hot shower (or the closest thing you can get to a hot shower here) and our beds. But, alas, nothing in Peru is so easy. So, we arrive at the apartment and find that it has been bolted from the inside. So, we proceed to knock, bang, yell, and tap for an hour or so--successfully waking up the entire neighborhood, who all came out to ask if we were okay. However, we did not succeed in waking up the person inside. So, at 5:30 in the morning, defeated, cold, and tired, we left the apartment and wandered around Cusco looking for a cheap hostel to sleep in. We finally found one, up some rickety stairs from an artisan market. Two beds crammed incredibly close together with some shady looking sheets, peeling walls, and a very musty smell. It was, however, two beds with lots of blankets. So Aqilah, Alex, and I promptly slipped under our sheets and passed out for 4 hours. Twenty dollars and four hours later, though, we were back in our apartment, showered, and cozied up under our own warm, comfortable (ish) beds.
All in all it was quite an interesting trip that was well, well worth it.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Horses: Perhaps not so dangerous after all
So, after the week of festivals, Cusco has been pretty quiet. The only festival this week was a follow-up to the Corpus Christi saint-n-virgin parade. Where the images had been on display for the week, they are now returned to their resting places in the great variety of churches and other religious institutions in the city. I don't know if I mentioned earlier that this is an adaptation of a previous Inca custom. The Inca preserved the mummies of their kings, and treated them as though they were still alive, parading them about and feeding them the richest feasts. Indeed, according to Veronica's research, the Inca habit of feeding their dead was one of the reasons they were so vulnerable to the invasion led by Francisco Pizarro, an intriguing example of a maladaptive meme. A key point to the success of the Spanish conquest of much of the New World depended on taking advantage of the relationships of the native people. Pizarro only had 168 men, 27 horses, and a cannon with which he was given a charter to conquer the Inca in 1529. In 1532, they arrived at the Inca Empire in the midst of a struggle between the brothers Huascar and Atahualpa (sons of Huayna Capac), tenuous loyalty especially among newly conquered territories, and chaos resulting from a smallpox epidemic. The Spaniards were not only able to talk their way out of trouble, but acquired the help of tens of thousands of other natives in the process. Atahualpa succeeded in becoming the leader of the Inca, but was tricked into being captured by the Spanish, and executed in 1533. Huascar was also assasinated, and the conquistadores blamed it on Atahualpa. Manco Inca, another brother of Atahualpa, was installed by the Spanish as Inca. He cooperated with the Spanish until he realized he could take advantage of an internal feud among them, and recaptured Cusco in 1536. He was nearly successful, but a last ditch effort by Spanish cavalry led to his defeat at Sacsayhuaman. He retreated to Vilcabamba in the jungle, the famous last city of the Inca, where they waged a war of resistance until 1572, when the last Inca Tupac Amaru (whom with Tupac Shakur claimed ancestry...dunno about that) was captured and brutally executed in Plaza de Armas in Cusco. He said, "Mother Earth, witness how my enemies shed my blood," and that was that for the Inca Empire. The following years included brutal suppression of Inca culture, though many practices survive to today.
So, as noted, one of the slightly annoying things about Cusco is something called the "boleto turistico", which is a ticket that includes entry over a 10-day period to a variety of impressive to hole-in-the-wall destinations in and around Cusco. We purchased them during our tour of the Sacred Valley, but we were determined to make the most of them, so spent a few days looking in the museums that were listed. They weren't the most exciting, one of them had some archaeological artifacts of past cultures (probably the most interesting out of them), a popular art museum, and a native art museum that turned out to be more of a market for handicrafts. There was also a really cool dance presentation that we went to one evening in which traditional live music was played while dances from the surrounding area were performed.
Last Tuesday we checked out some of the ruins above Cusco on horseback. The horses were pretty chill, so there weren't any near death experiences. We clambered through the hills surrounding Cusco, with some really epic landscapes. Our guide followed us by foot, playing his flute periodically, which lent a sort of mystical quality to the venture. The first stop was near a couple of ruins, Pukapukara and Tambomachay. We had to leave the horses momentarily as it was down the major highway, hence not a good place for horses. Pukapukara is a really cool Inca station that reminds me of Amon Sul, where Frodo gets stabbed by the Witch King (+10 nerd points). But really, its a kind of ruined tower on a small hilltop overlooking the surrounding countryside, with all of the impressive Inca stonework intact. Tambomachay was interesting, being most notable for its fountains, although we had to quench our thirst with a bottle of water purchased from una mujer since the fountains were blocked off. Returning to our horses, we continued along the hills to the Temple of the Moon, which seemed to be carved straight out of a huge boulder. We finished our riding tour shortly thereafter near a field of potatoes, and continued on foot to the ruins of Q'enko. Also carved into a boulder, this was apparently the site of some manner of sacrifice. Our last stop was actually a return to Sacsayhuaman, to take a look at the grand Inca structure, which was the site of the battle that was the last significant chance the Inca had at resisting the Spanish invasion. The stonework there is incredible. Many of the stones were pillaged by the Spaniards for the construction of their own houses, but many were so large that they could not be moved.
Otherwise we have been continuing to practice our Spanish. I think the Spanish I do know is becoming more intuitive, but I've been having some trouble with vocab building. Poco a poco, I guess. It's been fun shopping at all the various markets, stores, blankets-at-the-side-of-the-road, etc. I even have been able to use enough Spanish to do some bartering. Of course, things probably still cost too much, but its a fun game with neat prizes. The souvenir-sellers in Cusco are the most aggressive element of Peru that I have encountered. Starving artists will follow you for several blocks, all the while trying their best to guilt trip you into purchasing one of their paintings. Overall though, the pace of Peru is so laidback that one really can't do anything but go with the flow, and mostly everything turns out all right.
So, as noted, one of the slightly annoying things about Cusco is something called the "boleto turistico", which is a ticket that includes entry over a 10-day period to a variety of impressive to hole-in-the-wall destinations in and around Cusco. We purchased them during our tour of the Sacred Valley, but we were determined to make the most of them, so spent a few days looking in the museums that were listed. They weren't the most exciting, one of them had some archaeological artifacts of past cultures (probably the most interesting out of them), a popular art museum, and a native art museum that turned out to be more of a market for handicrafts. There was also a really cool dance presentation that we went to one evening in which traditional live music was played while dances from the surrounding area were performed.
Last Tuesday we checked out some of the ruins above Cusco on horseback. The horses were pretty chill, so there weren't any near death experiences. We clambered through the hills surrounding Cusco, with some really epic landscapes. Our guide followed us by foot, playing his flute periodically, which lent a sort of mystical quality to the venture. The first stop was near a couple of ruins, Pukapukara and Tambomachay. We had to leave the horses momentarily as it was down the major highway, hence not a good place for horses. Pukapukara is a really cool Inca station that reminds me of Amon Sul, where Frodo gets stabbed by the Witch King (+10 nerd points). But really, its a kind of ruined tower on a small hilltop overlooking the surrounding countryside, with all of the impressive Inca stonework intact. Tambomachay was interesting, being most notable for its fountains, although we had to quench our thirst with a bottle of water purchased from una mujer since the fountains were blocked off. Returning to our horses, we continued along the hills to the Temple of the Moon, which seemed to be carved straight out of a huge boulder. We finished our riding tour shortly thereafter near a field of potatoes, and continued on foot to the ruins of Q'enko. Also carved into a boulder, this was apparently the site of some manner of sacrifice. Our last stop was actually a return to Sacsayhuaman, to take a look at the grand Inca structure, which was the site of the battle that was the last significant chance the Inca had at resisting the Spanish invasion. The stonework there is incredible. Many of the stones were pillaged by the Spaniards for the construction of their own houses, but many were so large that they could not be moved.
Otherwise we have been continuing to practice our Spanish. I think the Spanish I do know is becoming more intuitive, but I've been having some trouble with vocab building. Poco a poco, I guess. It's been fun shopping at all the various markets, stores, blankets-at-the-side-of-the-road, etc. I even have been able to use enough Spanish to do some bartering. Of course, things probably still cost too much, but its a fun game with neat prizes. The souvenir-sellers in Cusco are the most aggressive element of Peru that I have encountered. Starving artists will follow you for several blocks, all the while trying their best to guilt trip you into purchasing one of their paintings. Overall though, the pace of Peru is so laidback that one really can't do anything but go with the flow, and mostly everything turns out all right.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Chocolate
I forgot to mention something particularly splendid. At the beginning of last week (aka la semana de las fiestas), we signed ourselves up for a Tuesday afternoon workshop at the Choco-museo, a small museum/kitchen/cafe dedicated to chocolate. Now, there's apparently no evidence that indigenous peoples of Peru (including the Inca) cultivated chocolate, and it was more the fare of Central American cultures such as the Maya and Inca. However, in recent times, given the problems with coca cultivation for the purposes of making cocaine, there has been an effort to shift towards cacao instead.Peruvian cacao is on the increase. Cacao trees are pretty short, and grow best in the shade of other trees. If I recall correctly, they can only be grown 20 degrees north and south of the equator. The cacao beans actually come from the center of a colorful fruit. Wildlife, such as monkeys (New World Monkeys, distinguished by their prehensile tails) consume the fruit, but leave the horridly bitter seeds. Indeed, there is a rather complex process that allows cacao to become delicious chocolate. First, the beans must be fermented in boxes lined with banana leaves. Though fermented, the husks can not even be separated from the useful chocolate material in the medullary aspect of the bean. So, the next step is to dry, and then roast the beans. This slightly mellows out the flavor, but the beans still taste extremely bitter and astringent, which lingers in your mouth. The roasting also allows for winnowing, the separation of the husks from the 'nibs'. The husks can be used to make a nice tea, with a light but noticeably chocolate flavor. Once you've got your nibs, you can grind them up into a chocolatey paste. Doing it the old fashioned way, a la mortar and pestle, is an energy intensive process due to having to apply sufficient friction to produce the paste rather than the more easily achievable powder. Once we got to this step in the workshop, we tried making some Mayan-style hot chocolate. This includes the paste, chili, and no sugar. To make it a little bit frothy (a somewhat difficult process, because it is water-based rather than the European milk-based formula), we poured the mix from one jug to another with increasing vertical distance, only spilling a little. It is a bitter but tasty beverage that the Maya held in high religious esteem. The next experiment we tried was with milk, sugar, cinnamon, and cloves. It was rich and tasty, a more fruity flavor than I'm used to. The next step is more mechanical, involving grinding , mixing, and refining. We didn't do that during the workshop, and only discussed it briefly. After that, some serious wizardry occurs via the tempering process. Again, we discussed rather that did, because it takes a while. Basically, chocolate has to be cooled down in a particular way and at a particular rate in order for it to have a shiny appearance, rather than a white, powdery marble color. You might have seen this in a chocolate bar you left in your hot car, for example, and then opened up later. We received pre-tempered dark chocolate to make our own chocolates out of, utilizing other ingredients such as Oreos, espresso beans, chili, nuts, and many other spices to make a wide palate of flavors. All in all, an extremely fun couple of hours.
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