"Peruano" not Peruvian (jonathan)
South America, August 2005. Lula is melting in Brazil, Toledo is losing ground in Peru, and Oscar Chavez is robbing Venezuela. Or is he? We are in Peru, my favorite place so far. On August 1 we landed in Cuzco, the old center of the Inca Empire. Cuzco has a touristic feel, expensive and a bit jaded but beautiful. Part of its beauty is the elevation, right around 3400 meters or 10,000 feet. Since we flew to Cuzco from Lima (elevation 43 feet) there was a period of adjustment for our bodies...damn we were sick! Trying to walk up the little hills in town left us gasping for air. Each night our sinuses filled with dryness and our heads with pain. It sucked, but on the fourth day we began to acclimatize and feel better, less dizzy. We tried a less prescribed drug for altitude sickness called ยจ"Gravergol", a mixture of analgesics and Ergot, the fungus of St Elmos Fire fame (I think)...also chewing Coca leaves and drinking its tea helped enormously. Amazing light here at 10,000 feet. Things get bigger up here, bodies take up more space. The locals are small people, dark hair, indio eyes. Country people wear bowler hats at a jaunty angle or Abraham Lincoln style stovepipes in fanciful colors with buckles. Skirts of thick wool spread wide around short thighs. There is a strange attitude to the cold. Heat does not exist anywhere (we are after all at -10 deg latitude) but it gets cold! It is midwinter here in Cuzco and the temp bottoms out at 30F, still no heat, no fireplace, just coats and lots of alpaca wool blankets. Walls are thick and cold, only heat up after hours of sun. Lots of the building foundations are built on old Inca ruins, the contrast is striking. Perfectly fit stones of a polygonal shape that was obviously not natural (stone workers cut them that way 1000 years ago) sit below shabby modern masonry. Some of the Inca work has more than 10 angles and they fit perfectly together, no mortar. Shannon and I had a nice stretch on the grass of Coricancha in the center of Cuzco. When the spaniards found Coricancha, a vast sun temple almost completely gilded in solid gold, they smelted it. Makes me sick to think of the waste, the pain the Incas must have gone through to watch their painstaking work demolished. Damn spaniards. We find ourselves looking at Christian churches built on top of old ruins, searching for the ruins rather than the church.
On our fifth day in Cuzco we began to climb the mountains. We chose a trek called Salkantay, an alternative to the Inca Trail which was booked solid. On August 5 we were sitting in Mollepata, Peru eating bread and Coca, thinking that such a bracing meal would be illegal in USA. Here little old ladies sell big bags of dried coca for about 1 sole (0.35 USD). It is good for you, helps with altitude sickness and makes a good tea. 40 of us have been bussed here to walk Salkantay, our group is from Belgium, Spain, Israel and Brazil. Macchu Picchu is the ultimate destination, crawling over a 4800 meter pass (about 16,000 feet) on the 2nd day, higher than we have ever been.
6 August 2005
After a long not so steep slog from 2900 m to 3900 m we settled in to popcorn, crackers, hot drinks and "asparagus" soup. Dinner was "with Chicken". A civil discussion of politics and the humanity of economics in a free market (driven by "me") ensued. It was a Very Cold Night but we are warm in our 40F bags with silk liners and clothes piled on top of us.
We wake beneath a glacier so close I can smell it. The wind is cold and the skies are iffy. Today is the hardest part of the trail and there are some in our group who have been promised a horse. However, there will be no horse. We camp in a damp hollow with carved out sites of potential mud. Almost dark we wait for tents to be set, dinner cooked.
Morning breaks dark and cool, rain taps us awake and back to sleep. Dante, our guide, lets us sleep and we do. Breakfast creaks us into life and again the track slides under us. The going is easy but too long.
This place is vast. No small communities, only individuals perched in the middle of the grassy plains or pampas. The Andes stretch out long and make Peru seem endless. Clouds stick to the trees above 10,000 foot rivers that rush from cataracts which feed it making it begger, changing its name. Huge cataracts foaming out of the side of a mountain--man made this time--diverted water from Macchu Picchu forcing a screw that makes electricity. Here in this valley near the sacred city we wait for a train.
9 August
All the lies you have heard about Peru are true. Peru is vast and illegal. Peru is not ready. Peru is not cheap. The rivers run high up in the Andes choked only by glaciers and pointed summits. There is stamina here, forces at work beyond comprehension. Energy is both required and available for your use. Locals (and gringos) chew leaf coca to make it easier to let happiness in despite the difficulty of the terrain. Coca warms you, cleans your mind, stops hunger, kills pain. Coca helps you thrive in the mountains.
Macchu Picchu sits in the Andes like a pearl in an oyster. Our guide is Miguel, probably a mystic himself, obviously of Andean lineage. He talks about evolved plants and getting information from the sun, from the heavens. He talks about balance and health (as his cell phone rings during his talk). He explains about the use of symbols, especially the cross. His english is difficult to understand but one is able to get the gist of each sermon, delivered with knowing smiles and beautiful flare. It is an unexpected and welcome introduction to this site, and Shannon and I wander through it, exhausted and amazed. Clouds drift over the stones and the peaks surrounding us. We are in the thick of Peru and loving it.
Next, the Jungle...
On our fifth day in Cuzco we began to climb the mountains. We chose a trek called Salkantay, an alternative to the Inca Trail which was booked solid. On August 5 we were sitting in Mollepata, Peru eating bread and Coca, thinking that such a bracing meal would be illegal in USA. Here little old ladies sell big bags of dried coca for about 1 sole (0.35 USD). It is good for you, helps with altitude sickness and makes a good tea. 40 of us have been bussed here to walk Salkantay, our group is from Belgium, Spain, Israel and Brazil. Macchu Picchu is the ultimate destination, crawling over a 4800 meter pass (about 16,000 feet) on the 2nd day, higher than we have ever been.
6 August 2005
After a long not so steep slog from 2900 m to 3900 m we settled in to popcorn, crackers, hot drinks and "asparagus" soup. Dinner was "with Chicken". A civil discussion of politics and the humanity of economics in a free market (driven by "me") ensued. It was a Very Cold Night but we are warm in our 40F bags with silk liners and clothes piled on top of us.
We wake beneath a glacier so close I can smell it. The wind is cold and the skies are iffy. Today is the hardest part of the trail and there are some in our group who have been promised a horse. However, there will be no horse. We camp in a damp hollow with carved out sites of potential mud. Almost dark we wait for tents to be set, dinner cooked.
Morning breaks dark and cool, rain taps us awake and back to sleep. Dante, our guide, lets us sleep and we do. Breakfast creaks us into life and again the track slides under us. The going is easy but too long.
This place is vast. No small communities, only individuals perched in the middle of the grassy plains or pampas. The Andes stretch out long and make Peru seem endless. Clouds stick to the trees above 10,000 foot rivers that rush from cataracts which feed it making it begger, changing its name. Huge cataracts foaming out of the side of a mountain--man made this time--diverted water from Macchu Picchu forcing a screw that makes electricity. Here in this valley near the sacred city we wait for a train.
9 August
All the lies you have heard about Peru are true. Peru is vast and illegal. Peru is not ready. Peru is not cheap. The rivers run high up in the Andes choked only by glaciers and pointed summits. There is stamina here, forces at work beyond comprehension. Energy is both required and available for your use. Locals (and gringos) chew leaf coca to make it easier to let happiness in despite the difficulty of the terrain. Coca warms you, cleans your mind, stops hunger, kills pain. Coca helps you thrive in the mountains.
Macchu Picchu sits in the Andes like a pearl in an oyster. Our guide is Miguel, probably a mystic himself, obviously of Andean lineage. He talks about evolved plants and getting information from the sun, from the heavens. He talks about balance and health (as his cell phone rings during his talk). He explains about the use of symbols, especially the cross. His english is difficult to understand but one is able to get the gist of each sermon, delivered with knowing smiles and beautiful flare. It is an unexpected and welcome introduction to this site, and Shannon and I wander through it, exhausted and amazed. Clouds drift over the stones and the peaks surrounding us. We are in the thick of Peru and loving it.
Next, the Jungle...
posted by squid | 5:35 PM
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