Lake Titikaka

After taking our classes early on Friday, we got on a bus and took a seven-hour ride to the small town of Puno on the shore of Lake Titikaka, the highest (3,812 meters) navigable lake in the world. We spent the night in a local hotel (arranged by the tour operator) in which we were probably the only guests due to the fact that it is winter and the off season here. The next day, after we ate breakfast wearing gloves (most places here do not have heating), we embarked in a tour boat for the Uros Floating Islands. There are about 50 of these manmade reed structures in the lake. As we left the boat and stepped onto one of the islands (there are quite a few of islands, each about the size of a large backyard), we were greeted by islanders in traditional clothing. They were singing a song of welcome in Quechua, their native language. As our group walked across the reeds that had been placed together in thick layers to form a surface that was soft and mildly squishy, we took a seat on a semi-circular bench woven out of reeds. We were given a brief lecture on the lake and its people, a small-scale example of how the islands are made and maintained, as well as an example of how the natives used to barter with other natives. Then the islanders dressed us up in native clothing and marketed their handicrafts to us, such as embroidery and small toy boats woven from reeds. Next, we took a ride on a fancy reed boat with two-leveled patio for sitting. We were taken to another nearby island this way. The new island was very touristy and sported several gift shops. We also learned that only 30% of the people who work on the islands giving tours and selling things live on the islands. 70% just play the part and actually live on land in Puno. It is sad to see that the Uros Islands have been so commercialized. Regardless, it was an experience that is only to be found in Peru.

Next, we took the motorboat to the island of Amantani, home to about 5,000 people, most of whom are natives and speak Quechua. Due to some mildly rough conditions, we were unable to dock in the normal port, and needed to dock on the opposite side of the island. We trekked uphill in some rather intense winds (difficult in the altitude) until we reached the village of our host families. While doing so, we were able to observe the many ancient farming terraces around the island. A number of native women in traditional clothing came to collect us and walk us to their homes. Our “host mother´s” name was Cecilia. She spoke Quechua and a little Spanish. She walked us to her family´s home, a mud brick house around a small dirt courtyard. Staying with a local family is the only lodging available in Amantani, and the family (prearranged by the tour operator) was warm and welcoming. Cecilia introduced us to her husband, eldest daughter (who lives nearby and has a young child), middle daughter (who lives at home and has two young children), and her youngest daughter, Celia, who is fourteen and was very excited to meet someone her age. Their resources were few (no electricity, running water, or heating) but Cecilia prepared a delicious and nutritious lunch that is common on the island: quinoa soup, fried salty cheese, many types of potatoes, and muña tea (muña is a native herb that tastes similar to mint and has medicinal value). Next it was off to the highest point on the island (as well the main temple for natives) to watch the sunset over the huge lake. The hike up was strenuous and the air was chilling, but the untouched beauty of the sunset was unmatched. As darkness surrounded the island, we walked back to our home stay. Despite the remote nature of the island as well as the level of poverty on the island, they had an old foosball table, and Celia and I played in the dark with a flashlight illuminating the game. She seemed thrilled to have someone of her same age with whom to play.

Dinner consisted of a delicious vegetable soup as well as chopped potatoes with vegetables, eggs, and rice with more muña tea. At the house, we ate all of our meals in the small kitchen with mud walls and floor in which there was only room for three people to sit at the table as well as a fire on which to cook. Afterwards, Celia dressed us up in some native dress clothes and walked us (with her father) to a small dance that was put on for the foreigners in a community building. Under a single light bulb, host families and tourists alike danced to the music of locals playing traditional instruments, such a drums, pan flutes, flutes, and small stringed instruments (called churango). We all held hands and moved around quickly in circles for songs that would go on for long periods of time. On occasion, one of the tourists (we met a couple from Ireland, and couple from Denmark with a 13 year-old daughter, and group of four from Indiana, among others) would change the direction, speed, or shape of the circle. Exhausted, we returned to our homestay and slept on a bed. We wondered how someone got all of the objects in the room (beds, chairs, closet) to such a remote island and up such a steep hill. The mattress was quite interesting; it was consisted of a foam pad on top of a bundle of dried reeds.

In the morning, we awoke and ate breakfast: a form of pancakes with jam, fried bread, and muña tea. We were given red flower necklaces by our houst family. There was a small ceremony at the local library in which the tourists who had brought books, toys, and other school supplies gave the gifts to the children in the kindergarden. Having brought it along to practice my Spanish, I gave a copy of The Little Prince in Spanish to the library. [Also, the host families received money (from the tour company) for hosting us as well as some gifts in food and other objects that we brought for them.]

We left the island and continued on by motorboat to Taquile, another small island nearby. Another hearty hike was required to enter the town. Claimed by UNESCO to have the finest handicrafts in the world, making items (such as hats, blankets, and belts) is a way of life on the island for almost everyone. By the age of five girls AND boys know how to knit, and we even saw an old man sitting outside of a shop knitting what seemed to be a hat. The people of the island are very shy, and girls (selling woven bracelets) would approach us and whisper to us in order to sell their items. It was quite unusual. For lunch, we enjoyed a traditional meal of trout during which the guide explained the meaning of all of the traditional clothes on the island. For example, one can tell if a man is married depending on his hat.

Afterwards, we departed by boat for Puno, the port from which we began the journey. After waiting there with a new friend we met who had been on the same tour, eating dinner and dessert, as well as riding a motorcycle rickshaw (quite common in Puno), we boarded our bus to Cusco. It was a luxury bus, but there was only one problem: the air conditioner was on for almost all seven hours and no one could override it. It was about 48 Degrees Fahrenheit. Other than the bus ride back, the trip was an amazing experience that we are still processing.

Here´s a link to the photos: http://m.flickr.com/#/photos/wanderingkayaks/