Bolivia & Peru-Lost

March 11, 2006-?

We’re at a budget no-tell motel and we don’t know what town. David is looking for a phone book. We don’t even know what area code we’re in. We landed in Miami ahead of schedule so got pretty far down the road before we decided to stop for the night. What we didn’t realize was that it was spring break, there was a bike race on, the snowbirds were heading north, and spring training had begun. We pulled into several motels to find no rooms available. We even called the 800#s for chains and they couldn’t find us a room within an hour of where we were. We pulled off at a Holiday Express. They had no rooms but suggested the Check-In Motel next door. There they told David they only had a non-smoking room. They decided not to take any locals in tonight so it would be quiet. When we parked the car in our slot and opened the doors to get out we could smell the alcohol seeping through the cracks in the doors of the rooms. It could have been worse. In Perth, Australia we faced the same problem but the dark road we had to travel to the next town was full of kangaroos hopping into our path.

We had a few moments of panic when we went to use the sink in our room. It’s been three weeks since we’ve used anything but bottled water and it took a bit of courage to slosh our mouths after brushing and to take pills with water from the tap.

The trip in went smoothly except for the fact that Judi kept getting waylaid at security and customs. She set off the alarms even though she was careful to put her watch through the x-ray machine with her purse. It turned out to be her underwire bra that set off the bells. Then a customs agent asked her if she was traveling alone. She answered in the affirmative. He asked the purpose of her trip and she started to tell him the places she had been. At that point I said, “Tell him it was tourism.” For a moment I thought it might make matters worse since she said she was traveling alone. But he laughed and said he would like to hear about the details. Judi told him if he gave me his email address I’d send him my journal. He didn’t, and we scurried past him and on to get our luggage.

Aha! We are in the Melbourne area. How appropriate.

Toby

Bolivia & Peru-Lima Again

March 10, 2006- This and That

There was a 21-year old woman sitting next to us on the flight from Cusco to Lima. She was with a group of fourteen from Lynn College in Boca Raton, Florida. They’d all climbed the Inca Trail. It took four days and some of the men actually had to be carried part way on the backs of the porters. The porters wore sandals and moved uphill quickly. They also carried all the food, oxygen in case anyone needed it, fuel, tents, etc. The hikers didn’t shower for four days and when they finally emerged in Machu Picchu they burst into tears of relief.

Yvonne is our guide in Lima. She pointed out the orphanage on our way to the hotel. They have six hundred fifty children there. Across the street is the mental hospital. That’s probably where the staff spends its down time.

Yvonne filled us in on the upcoming presidential race in Peru. The three front-runners are a woman, a leftist, and a man who was president in the 1980’s when they had 800% inflation. He says he’s learned since then. The woman was slated to win in the last race but something happened and she didn’t. We suggested that they imported vote counters from Florida.

I had the worst lunch of the trip. The food, except for the guinea pig, has been fine to excellent but today was a bust for those who ordered fish. It came undercooked. We sent it back and it was passable but my plate had a hair on it. I sent it back again and the fish still didn’t taste right. I’ll be sure to mention this on the survey OAT will send.

We’re all so over the trip and ready to go home. Several didn’t go to the gold museum in the afternoon. We did. I slept on the way there. I missed the upscale neighborhoods and the American Embassy. I did see the pre-Incan step pyramid (circa 400-1300) made of sun-dried adobe bricks. That’s where most of the artifacts in the museum were found. The precious objects were sold to an individual collector who displayed them in what was his house and is now a museum. Pre-Incan gold was an alloy of gold, copper, and silver. Everything was gorgeous with the exception of the requisite mummies. There was no Inca gold to be seen. It had all been looted.

We made a last minute stop at the market to buy handicrafts. While Judi was negotiating Nina came up to us. She said that Phil was bargaining for t-shirts. David asked her if he was good at that. She said that he thinks he is but the last time he made a deal the vendor price was $5.00. Phil got him down to $4.00 and 1 sole. That works out to $5.50.

I didn’t think we were eating dinner as a group tonight. That would have been too bad. We lived with most of these people for three weeks and our good-byes were cursory as we went to our rooms after the museum tour. There was a final banquet on the Amazon cruise since it was a part of the tour that everyone went on. This last part was an add-on so it doesn’t merit a banquet. I don’t know if we’ll be in touch with any of them in the future but they were a remarkably compatible group. We were free to have dinner in the hotel dining room on our own schedule. As it turned out we all showed up at the same time and had an unscheduled farewell dinner.

We wake at 6:30AM to fly back to Miami. We should arrive there at 4:30PM. We hope to drive a few hours before stopping. Most of you will be reading the last emails after we’re home. Thank you for being so faithful.

Toby

Back in Cusco

March 9, 2006-Revelations
(Photos:Arrival at Sun Gate,
Aguas Calientes,
Guinea pig ranch)

When we arrived at Machu Picchu at 8:30AM it was hidden behind clouds. As we walked onto the path the curtain of fog rose as if a great performance was about to occur. The star was the Incan sacred village that only had a small permanent population. It wasn’t a living city but a holy city where pilgrims came.

Jesus gave us a breathing lesson before we chose which path we wanted to take: the one to the Sun Gate or the one to the Inca bridge. He reminded us to breathe in through our nose and out through the mouth and to go slowly, slowly. I always have to remember to relax my shoulders too. After the climb, a bit too late, Delores who hikes in Colorado, told us that placing hands on hips opens the chest so the lungs can work more efficiently. Only nine chose the harder climb to the Sun Gate. Judi, David, and I were among them. I decided I didn’t want to exhaust myself to the point of not being able to complete the climb so I went at a snails pace and rested frequently.
The first twenty minutes was straight up uneven steps and a rock-encrusted path. The rocks weren’t placed there but looked as if they fell randomly into their spots. Some carrying backpacks found they were at a disadvantage and were top heavy. The path eventually widened to about five feet. Of course there were no railings of the hand or guard variety. The colors of the granite fascinated me. The most striking were the teal green and those that were the color of lapis lazuli.

This was a 1½-mile climb to the top. Halfway there I decided that the Incas were loco. Buddhists did it right. Their temples are on mountaintops but tour buses can access them. Then the tourists are only faced with climbing a few less than three-hundred steps. Somewhere along the way I went ahead of Judi and David. At that point Judi gave me her camera. I thought they’d eventually turn around and return to the main site. I knew they wouldn’t get past a huge boulder that I had to scramble up. The only way down that boulder was sliding on my tusch.

Every once in a while the path leveled out. These were teasers to make hikers think the worst was over. I met a man coming down and asked him how much farther it was. He said, “Poquito.” I was relieved. That was the first time I thought I was near the top. The second was when I reached a terrace with stone columns. There was a group settled in and I thought I’d arrived. I let out a whoop of joy then realized none of my group was there. A husky dog was settled in for a nap and I felt sorry he had such a heavy coat. Another guide told me that was the halfway point.
That’s when I started to curse the Incas. After another half hour of scrambling I saw Wendy and French from our group. They were leaning on a wall and taking pictures. I called out to them and they waved me up. It was just a rest stop for them.

As I approached what I hoped was the final flight of steps I noticed llama poo on the ground. This is their home but I couldn’t figure out why they’d want to go that high. Then the husky lapped me. As he ran past his tongue wasn’t even hanging out.

Once I got to the sun gate the view was spectacular. It’s from that spot that all the poster shots are taken. The sun gate itself was so-so. It was rocks, pillars, windows, niches. The thrill was in the climb and view. I would climb the Sydney Harbour Bridge again any day compared to this.

David and Judi had stopped at the halfway point. David didn’t go any farther. Judi walked on ten-minutes more. They’d managed to get past that boulder. Now we had to go in reverse. Going down is faster but more dangerous. I paid attention to every placement of every step I made. It was easy to be distracted since there was no more labored breathing. We all even managed to scuttle down the boulder on our feet.

As we passed climbers going up my heart went out to them and I pitied them for they were ignorant of what was ahead. This was so much harder than any stress test I’ve ever taken. I love to climb on rocks and was in hog heaven even though I didn’t like the heavy breathing on the way up. I’m selective about when I want to do heavy breathing.

David had a good point about the entire site. He said that if Disney were running it there’d be a cable car to the top with a refreshment stand waiting at the scenic overlook and maybe a t-shirt kiosk. Even the Israelis have a cable car option at Massada.

The plan was for us to individually take the bus down and meet at a restaurant at noon. As we careened around the switchback curves we saw two little boys waving at us. The driver stopped to pick one up. A few curves later we saw the second boy again. He was running down the steps through the hillside and intercepting us. Each time we’d wave and shout, “Ola” and he would too. This happened several times until the driver let him on. He stood at the front of the bus as we continued down and he let out with a chant-like greeting in Quechua then proceeded down the aisle asking for money. Most people gave him a sole so that he made out with about thirty soles the equivalent of $10. He had a good thing going. He hopped the next bus going up and started over. I don’t think he made that much on each run, but it was a creative way to solicit and it was entertainment for tourists. When we got off the bus in Aguas Calientes I did a little victory dance. Mission accomplished!

The Descent

We’d thought the view from our hotel in Aguas Calientes was of a construction site. But today we saw that people were living in it. It was bare concrete block construction with no windows and building material strewn around. The lotus in the mud was a green and red parrot enjoying the cool morning breeze. I hope he gets along with the rooster who crowed at dawn.

We had a few minutes before lunch and decided to shop. As I turned around to go up two steps to the street I tripped. How ironic would that be if I got hurt after the climb?

As we boarded the train for Cusco after lunch it began to rain. It was perfect timing. Once again our luggage was piled in front of one of the doors. Fortunately it was not the door that kept opening. At one point the train stopped. It seemed ominous but it was only to let a piece of equipment clear the tracks. While we waited a little girl came out of the hills waving and posing for photos.

We met our bus at a village called Ollantaytambo. Before we got on we had a brief walking tour. The whole town is built on Incan foundations and original Incan aqueducts are still in use. As we walked a funeral procession passed. It turned out that Jesus knew the deceased. The mourners were dressed in brightly hued traditional garb and the women had real flowers perched on top of their flat-brimmed hats. A black casket was being carried aloft on the shoulders of six pallbearers and wobbled as they made their way along the stone walkway. With each tip and tilt the lid bounced open a fraction of an inch.

We arrived at the “typical local” stone house with thatched roof, dirt floor, loft, and niches. What was atypical to us although not to the village was that in the niches were the skulls of ancestors, dried meat hung from the beams, three llama fetuses were prominently displayed on the wall (remember they bring good luck to a new home), and two dozen guinea pigs were underfoot. The other dozen pregnant females were cordoned off in a wooden mini-guinea corral.

Sidelights

On the ride to our next stop Jesus decided we needed to know the “truth” about Incas and human sacrifice. He said that in 1991 scientists found a young girl buried high on a mountaintop. Her skull had been bashed in and they declared it to be evidence that she was sacrificed. The Andean view is that pre-Incans left information about human sacrifice in the way of pictures on their ceramics and weavings. The Spanish Chronicles mention Aztec and Mayan human sacrifice. Since human sacrifice was so alien to the Spanish why did they never mention Incan sacrifice? Why did the Incas never draw about it on their ceramic-ware and weave it into their tapestries? He theorizes that the young girl with the hole in her skull could have died of natural causes after a fall. She might have been from an important family and to honor her she was buried high on the mountain.

We pulled off the road to look at a cactus. I was unimpressed until Americo (yes he is back) brought white bugs on the bus from the cactus flowers. He squeezed them and red stuff came out. Jesus told us that the bug innards were used by Andean women for lipstick. As this was going on he called to an eight year old boy to come on board. He held the bus microphone up to the child and asked him questions. The boy had no compunctions about speaking to us. He pointed to the field where his parents were working and said that he goes to school in the morning but then comes home to help in the fields.

One of the advantages of going part way by bus is that we could make all these interesting side-trips. Our next stop was at a bar. There are no signs outside that say “bar.” Instead they use a long pole with a red plastic bag attached to the end as a marker. An old Incan custom I’m sure. We had a contest in the courtyard where we played the game called Frog. There was a stand with a metal frog in it. The goal was to toss a metal disk into the frogs mouth. There were other holes in the stand where the disk could go through and drop in a drawer. Each hole had a different number of points. It was men against women. We whomped them thanks to Judi who was our high scorer. We all retired to the barroom to taste chicha a corn beer. Those who tasted it described it as vile. One woman said she heard that women used to make it and chew the corn thinking their saliva made it tastier. She remarked that it couldn’t have hurt and might have been true.

We’re back at our hotel in Cusco and settling in for the night. We had to run the gauntlet of child-vendors outside our hotel when we went to dinner. They call out their names in hopes that we will remember them. When we say, “No gracias” they call out, “Maybe later.” What are their names? One calls himself Pablo Picasso. The other is Robert de Niro. They know we won’t forget those. We wake up at 5:15AM tomorrow to catch a flight back to Lima. I can hear you all laughing. You know how late we can sleep at home.

Toby

Machu Picchu

March 8, 2006-Peaks and Valleys
(Photos:Road to Urumbamba,
Macchu Pichu,
Trekkers,
Llama-eye view)

In case of fire or earthquake use stairs not elevators. Not every hotel room we have been in has that warning sign. A bigger issue for David is that he’s done with being treated like a second grader. Whenever we have a new driver or meet a new person Jesus has us say, “Buenos dias (or whatever the appropriate time of day), (fill in the name)” in unison.

I’ve been looking forward to this day for a long time. We left Cusco by bus and will ride halfway to Machu Picchu before we switch to the train. The train ride is famous but by using the bus we get up later and can stop along the way. We drove out of town in a new direction and through a shabbier neighborhood than we’d seen. Jesus pointed out that in our country it’s status to live up high. Here the poor live high on the mountainsides. There are no roads and endless flights of steps lead to their dwellings. From the distance the hillsides seem scattered with the vertical lines of the staircases. Someone wanted to know the #1 health problem in Cusco. It’s pregnancy: too many young mothers and too many babies. Since the increase in tourism, AIDS and prostitution are becoming an issue.

We passed an Association of Textiles that studies lost textile techniques and Jesus pointed it out as one of the schools Grand Circle and OAT built for the people from the money we spend on our tours.

We had to climb to 12,000 feet before we could begin our descent to Machu Picchu. The countryside was primarily corn and potato farmland. Purple and white flowers of potato plants added a welcome touch of color to the checkerboard green fields next to jagged peaks. We were looking down into the valleys through the clouds. We had several stops for photo ops. Our private photographer, Judi, is doing quite nicely. At one place people were taking pictures of a filthy but adorable baby crawling along on the red clay ground.

As we approached the Sacred Valley, the town of Urubamba, and the Urubamba River the mountain peaks looked like the back of a T-Rex covered with short grasses and bushes. Shadowy remnants of old Inca terraces were barely visible. A slight dusting of snow remained on the highest peaks as the walls of hills closed in on us and the valley narrowed. One reason this valley was sacred is because it has a microclimate and they can grow two crops a year. The river tumbled furiously by in what Jesus called class “D” rapids. “D” is for dead. Waterfalls rained down from the peaks forming white ribbons. We had reached the head waters of the Amazon. Amidst all this beauty we stopped for a lecture on ceramics and an opportunity to buy. What a mood killer, but we did buy.

Inca Trek

We were close to the start of the Inca Trail that was used to access Machu Picchu. It’s 27-miles long and takes four days and three nights to hike even with porters carrying the heavy gear. Only five hundred people a day are permitted to hike.

As our highway turned to cobblestone, the toll road began. It took us to our blue and yellow narrow gauge train sitting right next to the Urubamba River. One and a half cars were filled with OAT tours. Our overnight luggage was precariously piled by one of the doors. Americo was traded for Ra as our local guide. Americo went back to Cusco with the bus and will meet us at the train when we return tomorrow. Our trip back is split train and bus again.

The rock and roll hour and twenty minute trip was in relative comfort. The seats were padded and we had “vista” view cars with high windows like in observation cars. Two stewards pushed an airplane type serving cart down the aisle distributing drinks and ham and cheese sandwiches on lap trays. The drinks were served in cups and the stewards had trouble with the sway of the train. Not all the liquid got where it was supposed to.

We followed the river as it widened and poured frantically over polished green granite rocks in its way. Bromeliads (air plants) clung to the stones making yellow splotches on the granite. At km marker 82 the Inca Trail began. We watched hikers slogging along the arduous path and rolled past a bridge built on the original Inca foundation.
Aguas Calientes

Our arrival in the tourist town named for its hot springs, Aguas Calientes, was unremarkable until they started unloading our luggage from the train. Since it was piled in front of a door the passengers stayed on the train until the exit was cleared. I looked out of the window to see the guides, including ours, tossing the luggage to each other like they were playing a game of hot potato. I yelled from the window to tell them that there was a computer in one of those bags. They looked sheepish and settled down. David had his CPAP machine in another bag. I’ve never seen such irresponsible luggage handling and was surprised to see OAT guides participating.

We’re in a cloud forest/rain forest and it’s easy to see how the site could have been hidden all those years. Even the river water here is green. The amazing thing isn’t how it stayed hidden but that it was ever found.

Walking Into A Poster

Public buses are the only way up to Machu Picchu. They take a serpentine two-way dirt road that’s wide enough for 1 ½ buses. There were several instances when we had to back up to let another bus pass. I was concerned that in backing up we would back off the mountain. Jesus said that they’ve only lost two buses in all the years.

To tell the truth I was disappointed when we arrived at the site. The first thing I saw was what looked like a stone construction tourist rest stop on the interstate. It could only go uphill from there literally and figuratively. When David was a boy he got a book called Richard Halliburton’s Book of Marvels. It told of all the wondrous places to be visited in the world. Machu Picchu was not in it. It had not become a tourist destination and it wasn’t very well known outside academic communities.

As we cleared the turnstile and walked to the approach we had to navigate a narrow ledge leading to a precarious path. All but three of us opted to use walking sticks. I was a non-user. I concentrated on keeping my footing and when I got to a wide enough area I looked up into the real life picture I’d only seen on posters of Machu Picchu. We were standing on Inca terraces facing llamas and the roofless shells of stone buildings stacked on rises like a pueblo village. The mountains shot up into the cloud cover. It looked like a Sugar Loaf Mt. Convention.

On July 24,1911, Hiram Bingham, a Yale scholar “discovered” the site. He’d been looking for Vilcabamba the Last City and stronghold where the Incas retreated before their fall. The Spanish mentioned that in their Inca Chronicles written in 1537. Vilcabamba is ten miles from here. Bingham stumbled over it earlier and didn’t realize what he’d found. Ironically, a farmer told him about Machu Picchu, which means Old Mountain. Because he was working with the National Geographic Society he got permission to go back in 1912, and begin excavation of the Lost City. He finished in 1917, and promised to return all the artifacts he took to the U.S. in ten years. The Peruvians are still waiting.

Why is the site sacred? The Urubamba river and many water sources are near; mountain tops are near the heavens; many temples were built here; mountains offered protection; it’s in the last mountains in the Andes mountain bridge; it’s hard to see from the valley; the Spanish never found it to destroy it.

Theories abound as to why it was abandoned. Some said there wasn’t enough water, but there are underground springs; natural infection may have killed off the residents, but a strong leader could have quarantined it until things stabilized. It cannot be checked since there were few remains of residents. The vegetation took over within three months of its abandonment and after a few generations no one remembered where it was or that it existed for sure.

After our history lesson we continued walking and climbing like mountain goats (or llamas). Tourists are permitted to climb anywhere and I’m concerned for the preservation of the site. The steps are uneven due to those that were restored. Inca steps are quite high and we learned that the ancient Incas were taller than the Indians today. They were probably 5’8”-10”. A gentle rain began to fall as we gazed out at the two sections of the ancient town. We were able to see the original drainage system at work as water was shunted to the stone conduits and down the hills. Like European towns, one part of the village was devoted to housing and one to agriculture. As the rain stopped we looked back to thatched roofed two-story restorations of some houses with outside staircases leading to the second floor and saw that a rainbow had appeared. It spanned the valley below and hovered over the town.

There are too many temples to recount and I ran out of steam with all the scaling of terraces and steps. There’s no evidence that these buildings were covered with gold. I’ll mention the Temple of the Sun. Round in shape, it was built upon a naturally occurring crack in a rock. It has the requisite altar and the double doors (inner and outer) that mark it as an important place. The two windows marked the solstices (winter-June 21 and summer Dec. 21) and the equinoxes (Sept. 23 and March 21). Remember, it’s south of the equator. More sacrifices took place on Dec. 21, since they thought the sun was disappearing and had to be coaxed to return.

The sundial with its flat-topped altar at the astronomical observatory was impressive but its placement and the placement of a diamond-shaped rock representing the Southern Cross was astounding. Jesus borrowed a compass and showed us that their corners lined up perfectly with North, South, East, and West. Then to drive home his point of the Incas brilliance he had us all stand in a large roofless room with lots of niches. We put our heads into the niches and hummed. The entire place vibrated. Our energy was distributed and grew as our humming got louder. I could have stayed there much longer enjoying the throbbing sensation. And then Jesus cell phone rang. It was so jarring and out of place I wanted to throw him over the side. After all, Ra could lead us back to the bus.

The Incas had it pretty easy here. They found the granite on site and didn’t have to transport it like they did for many other constructions. As we were leaving it occurred to me that Machu Picchu might be contemporaneous with the Taj Mahal. I looked it up and the best guess as to when Machu Picchu was built is mid-1400’s. The Taj Mahal was completed in the mid-1600’s. Two hundred years is a long time but the Taj is light years ahead of Machu Picchu. Although it’s architecturally impressive, the sophistication of Europe and Asia outstripped North and South America and made it that much easier for them to be vanquished.

The day ended on a humorous note. We missed our siesta and are exhausted. We had a quick dinner at a restaurant way downhill from us, of course. On the way back I was so intent on watching a baby take her first steps on the steep incline that I missed the turn-off for our hotel. Fortunately someone called to me or I would still be walking. I don’t know the name of where we’re spending the night.

Our room is very basic but clean. We have shelves and our closet is hooks and hangers on the back of the door. The bathroom fixtures seem newer. Of course there’s no heat. I shivered as I got ready to shower but there was plenty of hot water. Once I was under the wool blanket and comforter I was toasty warm. Hopefully the goat that has been serenading us will sleep well so that we may too.

Tomorrow we tackle the climb to the Sun Gate. It’s 11/2 miles long and uphill all the way. Jesus says that we’ll take it slowly, slowly. It will take three hours. At home we walk a twenty-minute mile. I’d say that we’ll be walking extremely slowly tomorrow.

Toby

Mas Cusco

March 7, 2006-To Market Again
(Photos:Dwarfed by stone at Saqsayhuaman,
Shaman healing,
Roast guinea pig,
Pig paw)

Yesterday Jesus read the riot act to Phil for talking while Jesus was talking and then asking questions that had just been answered. It was well deserved since Phil has a pattern of asking inappropriate and foolish questions, but many in the group thought it should have been done in private.

We had a healer on the bus today. He was part of the program for later in the morning but hung out with us until then. Our first stop was another market, but this was all under roof and didn’t smell. It was the cleanest one we’d seen. It was their answer to Super K-Mart. Everything was available from innersoles to fish roe. The women there were filleting and chopping at a furious pace. Most were chatting with their neighbors and not even looking at what they were doing. They made Emeril look like he was all thumbs. Jesus bought food for us to taste as we went. They had the most yummy breads and cheese. I got braver and tasted some fruit he peeled. We then started buying for the people who were hosting our lunch. Several people had forgotten to bring a gift from home so they bought cheese, chocolate, and bread for our host family. That’s when I figured out what the healer was for. He became our porter and carried all the purchases.

(As I’m writing this, the lights just went out in the hotel or in the town. I don’t know which. I unplugged the computer and am running on batteries. I don’t want to risk a power surge if or when the electricity comes on.)

We did a quick drive through town to our next stop passing stunning squares and parks. This is a picture-book town. It reminds me of Rome. When you’re in the town the stucco and red tiles create a fairy-tale world of its own. But when you look up you see the ancient Inca ruins much like the Coliseum looms over Rome.

Sexy Woman?

We went to Saqsayhuaman (loosely pronounced-sexy woman) where the Temple of Lightning was built. Wild violets grew among the ruins along with Scottish broom and barley grass. The temple was built in the shape of a lightning bolt. It was a part of the original Incan layout for the city of Cusco. The city was platted in the shape of a puma. This temple was at its head and represented the teeth. The Temple of the Sun we saw yesterday represented the loins of the puma. If you recall, the condor stands for the heavens and afterlife and the snake is for wisdom much like it symbolized the knowledge of good and evil in the Garden of Eden tale. The intertwining of myths from culture to culture is fascinating.

The temple is built of limestone complete with fossils. Limestone comes from areas that used to be under the sea. At one time the Amazonian inland sea reached all the way to Cusco. We saw the largest stone that Jesus said is estimated to weigh 120 tons although Fodor’s said there’s one that weighs 361 tons. Every June there’s a Festival of the Sun on that site. It’s combined with a saint’s day and the celebration of the solstice as only the Andeans can do. One alpaca is sacrificed. They’re more restrained than the Bolivians. It may be winter but they never have snow in Cusco. It’s way below the snow line. The snow line is at 17, 500 feet because they’re so close to the equator. If El Nino occurs snow is possible.

Sham or Shaman?

After a short ride, Pedrito, the healer, welcomed us to his “medical office.” This was a lot less moving than the ceremony with the shaman. We were asked if we wanted tea and as the healer began the ceremony tea was passed and then the sugar bowl made its rounds. Jesus’ cell phone rang and he moved off to the side to take the call. Pedrito chewed on coca leaves as he assembled the offering. Then he blew on some coca leaves (not the ones he had been chewing) and gave each one of us three to hold. On a piece of paper he assembled incense, rice, sugar, garbanzos, peanuts, a rainbow hued ribbon, raisins, a condor feather, candy, coca seed, maize, sea shells, animal crackers (I kid you not), candles, wayruro seed, gold and silver foil, something to represent a book, magnetic stones, moss, a cotton wad, yarn, and white and red dried carnations. He took a bottle of wine and poured it on the ground three times to give to mother earth then he poured some on the offering. We stood and blew three times on our coca leaves facing in different directions kind of like we do with the lulav on Sukkot minus one direction. We presented our leaves to the healer and placed them on his pile. Now, suspend your disbelief. He poured alphabet soup noodle letters on top of it all so our names would be written into the offering. He wrapped the whole kit and caboodle in a cloth and the cleansing ceremony began. One by one we stood in front of him and told him our name and where we had pain in our body. He repeated the name and began chanting and rubbing the packet of offerings all over our bodies paying special attention to what ailed us. It was amazing how many had sick stomachs. When that was done he unwrapped the cloth and put the paper packet with the offerings on a fire. He poured the remainder of the wine on the ground and on the fire and it was done. I had one question. Why did he not heal himself? He had the worst case of toenail fungus I’d ever seen. People who go to him for healings pay him in goods. We gave him a cash contribution. I must note it for IRS next year.

OAT (Overseas Adventure Travel) never used to take its people to tourist factories but there must be a new trend. We went to a place to learn about alpaca yarn and although I was not interested in the sweaters I did find my rug/wall-hanging. We then went to a silver and gold place to see how it was hand-made.

We had enough time before lunch to see Tenko, an Incan labyrinth. The footing was uneven and downhill and I was happy to have an orthopedic surgeon among the group. It was a natural crack in the stone that the Incas widened to access an underground sacrificial altar honoring the snake god of wisdom. They only sacrificed animals there but Jesus promised to fill us in on human sacrifice on the bus tomorrow.

(The electricity just came on. That was not too bad.)
Trick or Treat?

Efrain and Diana were our hosts for lunch. We started with quinhua soup and black corn juice. So good so far. Individual plates were passed to each person with a corn and vegetable fritter, bean and potato cream concoction, and cooked vegetables. Then Diana proudly brought in the main course. It was whole guinea pig on a platter. This is a delicacy for special occasions and was made in our honor. She took it into the kitchen to dismember. It reappeared on the table in all its little pieces and parts. The one that stands out is the little piggy claw curled into a little piggy fist as if waving hello (or good-bye) every time it went past. Several people tried it. David, Judi, and I were not among them. We consoled ourselves with the delicious dessert of sweet tomato that is sour. It’s a tomato stewed with spices. It tasted more like spiced peach.

After siesta we had free time to go to the handicraft markets on our own. There were hundreds of stalls most of which had little TVs blaring. Children were everywhere. Some were underfoot but many babies were being carried in the rainbow colored all-purpose serapes on their mothers backs.

At dinner I asked Jesus why OAT provided one bottle of water per person in Bolivia and Lake Titicaca and we got all we could use without limit on the cruise and in Cusco. He said that the OAT policy is one bottle a day but he and Eric believe that more is needed and pay for it out of their own pockets.

I have written to you about French who cut his finger off to avoid the draft. He claims now that he’s retired going to be a Unitarian missionary. He figures that it will be an easy job since Unitarians include all traditions He can tell them they’re all doing just fine.

We leave for Machu Picchu tomorrow at the civilized hour of 7:30AM. We drive half way then switch to a train. The altitude where our hotel will be is “only” 6,800 feet. That is 4,000 feet down from here. The site of the ruins is about 7,900 feet. Piece of cake!

Toby

Cusco, Peru

March 6, 2006-Jesus
(Photos:Jesus at Inca wall,
Temple of the Sun)

Jesus, our guide had wake-up calls for us at 4AM. We were eating mini-muffins at 4:30 and loaded on the bus for the airport at 5AM. This is getting to be a habit. I’m afraid I’ll be waking up at 4AM even after we’re home. It’s now 9:15AM and I feel as if I’ve put in a whole day.

Jesus isn’t as easy to understand as our other guides, but he repeats things enough so we eventually get it. The good thing is that you’ll have less to read. He has an assistant, Americo, whose only function as I see it is to be our crossing guard, take us to the potty, provide Kleenex for said potty, and be another person for us to tip.

Jesus told us to sit on the left side of the plane to Cusco. That’s where most of the passengers sat. The pilot must have been used to flying so unbalanced. It was worth it. As we came down through cotton puff clouds the rooftops of Cusco, population 300,000, shimmered like so many sequins. At first I thought they were metal roofs but as we got closer they turned out to be rooftop solar water heaters. We descended into the valley and left behind velvety green mountains with razor sharp ridges jutting out as if to shake hands with our wing tip. Welcome to Inca Central.

Inca Central

We made our way to our bus through a gauntlet of photographers. They’ll eventually show up with finished photos of us for sale. They’re very entrepreneurial here. Women surrounded our bus and peered into the windows offering handicrafts and trying to get our attention. I thought I was back in China.

We’re at the lovely and I think newer Hotel Jose Antonio. It’s yellow stucco with a red tile roof and flowers cascading from balconies. We tried to get a queen bed but there were none available. Jesus offered us his room but we declined. We told him he’s single and might get lucky. That he understood.

We’re so used to being on a bus that when Jesus called for taxis to take us to lunch we were surprised. It must be because the streets are very narrow here and buses could be a liability. He’s like a little mother. He asked if we washed our hands before we ate and then told us he had hand-sanitizer for us if we did not. He does’t want us to get sick.

We were entertained at lunch by a local band. The music was in the same Andean style but several songs were sung in Quechuan, the Incan language. Of course they had a CD for sale.

After lunch we took a walking tour of Incan walls. Since we’ve been here so long a lot of the information is familiar. The pre-trip to Bolivia was invaluable. We have a basis of knowledge that those who joined us later do not. These walls, as all Incan walls, were built leaning inward to be earthquake proof. No mortar was used. The stones have a greenish cast with pink and salmon tones. They’re most remarkable. The restoration walls were put back together with mortar, but not because they fell down. When the Spanish arrived in Peru in 1532 and in Cusco in 1533 they used the stones for their buildings and built their buildings on the Incan temples some of which had been here since the 11th century. Unfortunately for the Incas they were in the midst of a civil war when the Spaniards came. Two royal brothers were fighting for dominance and one killed the other. Of course, the little boys we saw playing soccer and using the walls to bounce the ball off of were unimpressed.

Church Central

We came to the main plaza where the Spanish influence was apparent. Two churches loomed over the manicured park. I thought the lovely fountain in the park had a statue on top until it moved and I realized it was being fastidiously cleaned. The Peruvian and Inca flags waved proudly over the government buildings. I never knew that the rainbow flag decal (symbolizing the Gay, Lesbian, Bi-sexual, Transgender community) on our cars could double as an Inca flag. Jesus was familiar with the rainbow flag as a GLBT symbol and told me there were some parades from time to time.

Jesuits had run one church until they went back to Spain to help with the Inquisition. A negative remark was made by Phil about the Inquisition and a Catholic member of the group, Kathy, retorted saying that no religion is exempt from doing bad things sometime in its history. We decided that Buddhism might fill that description and perhaps Bahai.

Mercy Church and Convent housed the Sisters of Mercy who seem to be doing very well financially. Jesus said they owned the entire block of land including the buildings housing the gift shops. Seventeenth century gold leaf ceilings and picture frames were in good repair and the Spanish style detail was impeccable. One particular gold sculpture that had thousands of diamonds and pearls was exquisite until you thought of the number of Indians who died mining the gold. The oil paintings displayed around the cloister were pristine, but exposed to the weather. Jesus said it was hard to keep them well restored and they were worked on constantly. Weather be damned; we weren’t allowed to take pictures of them for fear of flashes damaging the surfaces. We saw lots of what they call Andean Catholicism. There’s a painting of the crucifixion with a dark-skinned Jesus wearing an Incan skirt. The Madonna is wearing an Incan sun god headdress and the shape of her gown echoes the shape of the mountains.

The Convent of Santo Domingo and Church of St. Dominic sits atop the terraced gardens of the Incas. It’s a perfect example of how the Spanish used the Incan temple walls on which to build. In 1950 there was an enormous earthquake. The church collapsed but the walls on which it was built did not. The offset block construction, trapezoidal doors, windows, and niches, and the inward leaning walls survived. A deal was struck between the church and the government. The government would help re-build the church on the same sight if the church would be open to the public and would restore the Incan walls it had destroyed. What was hidden all those years was the Temple of the Sun. When conquered by Spain the gold that had covered all the temple walls was melted down and shipped back home. It wasn’t until 1969 that a law was passed forbidding the destruction of Incan sights.

A discussion began of who built the temples. Jesus insisted they weren’t slaves but common people who worked for the love of their gods. That’s what they told us about how the pyramids were built in Egypt only it was the farmers who loved the pharaohs so much that they donated their time when they were not busy with their crops. We also debated whether or not Andean construction happened in a vacuum. Jesus disagreed that previous civilizations had contact with Egypt but there are too many similarities to discount that theory.

Recovery

Jesus paces our walks very slowly. That’s the word of the day. Pedro in La Paz did us a great disservice taking us on a fast walking tour shortly after we got there. We flew all night to La Paz and had little time to rest. The group never recovered comfortable breathing. We had about three-hours to rest at the hotel in Cusco before lunch. We walked a lot today and no one was out of breath.

Dinner was at a folkloric restaurant that had traditional music along with Incan and Peruvian costumed dancers. Americo was waiting for us with a bottle of hand sanitizer as we got in line for the buffet. Next there will be a fingernail check. I don’t know what the Japanese tourists thought of us. The buffet included alpaca and guinea pig. Nina tried the guinea pig. She reported that it was full of bones and tasteless. She cannot wait to tell her grandchildren what she ate. She got sick yesterday but I’m sure that under Jesus’ watchful eye she will recover. I wonder what guinea pig does to a bad stomach. I didn’t eat it, but it turns mine.

Tomorrow we don’t have to assemble until 8:30AM. I finally feel like I’m on vacation.

Toby

Back in Lima, Peru

March 5, 2006-Re-grouping
(Photos:Tai Chi,
Bikeathon,
Buying street art)

We’re still taking malarone for malaria prevention and have to take it for a week after leaving the Amazon. We added diamox today for altitude in Cusco (11,000 feet). All of us have mosquito bites from the cruise. Some are really covered. Judi, David, and I don’t have many (I have three) but David has an interesting cluster on his elbow and ankle.

We took off from Iquitos this morning with Irish music playing on the PA system of the plane. Go figure.

When we got to the hotel in Lima we found twin beds in our hotel room. We had a mini-apartment but that didn’t matter. We wanted one bed after six days in singles. Judi Cope offered to switch and we went to the front desk to work it out. As it turned out hers was just a hotel room with a king bed. Only apartment suites had an Ethernet connection. We needed the Ethernet so it was back to the drawing board. They found us a king bed in a suite with Internet access. Yeah!
Exploration

We set out for lunch and to find an art show in a nearby park. The show wasn’t set up yet but there were people doing Tai Chi in the park. I tried to join in but they were doing forms from a different school of Tai Chi. I stood behind them and did my own thing. It has been three weeks since I’ve practiced and I was rustier than I thought I’d be.

We then stumbled upon a bikeathon. We didn’t know if it was a marathon or for charity. When the pack of hundreds of bikers slowed down someone explained that they were demonstrating in favor of bicycle riding in Lima instead of motorized vehicles. I agree that there’s a pollution problem. We kept waiting for it to rain all day and then realized it was smog that made the sky so angry looking.

We happened upon the Haiti Café and enjoyed the food as well as the find. David ordered a cheeseburger and what came was a delicious surprise. There was a burger and fried egg between two thick slices of bread. It was all wrapped in melted mozzarella cheese. Yum!

After lunch the art show was open. It was quite small but Judi and I found some watercolors we liked. We were bargaining for them in soles (the Peruvian dollar) when a local came up and tried to help. He switched the bargaining to U.S. dollars and I was ready to clobber him. He thought he was helping but I told the artist I wanted to talk only soles. We got as good a deal as we could. The frames will be thirty times what we paid for the pictures, but that’s the way it always is.

Judi went back to the hotel and David and I went to Vivanda, a large upscale grocery store. David wanted to buy Ahi, a salsa he loves, and we needed an ATM. The one in the store rejected our card four times even with the help of one of the bank staff. The sign on the ATM clearly said it accepted our kind of card. That happened in Costa Rica so we weren’t upset yet. We went to another bank and, voila, we got cash. I don’t know why those things happen.

Tomorrow is another 4 AM wake-up. We’re taking the earlier flight to Cusco in case of bad weather and delays. This is the rainy season. Most tourists take the later flight. Our guide and fearless leader ironically named, Jesus, told us that tomorrow we cease being tourists and become explorers.

Toby

Nauta, The Amazon

March 4, 2006-Shopping

(Photos:Native dancers,

Tuk tuk ride,

Ship’s band)

We woke up at the luxurious hour of 7AM and saw the shadow through the curtains of someone washing our window. They work very hard to keep the boat clean and manage to do a good job. It’s cleaner than I thought it would be at first glance, but something is still going on that is making people sick. Another one of us bit the dust last night. I think it’s a food handler in the kitchen who’s careless. It’s the luck of the draw as to who gets what he’s touched. All it takes is for him to pick up a glass with his thumb inside the rim.

We took our trusty skiff over to Nauta to explore the big town. As we landed we walked by a small complex that was under construction. It might be a new entertainment center on the waterfront. I realized there’s no way anything can be well maintained here. Even new buildings become hot, sticky, and slimy from the extreme humidity. Air conditioning just makes the interior cold and wet instead of hot and wet.

Eric led us through the area of shops and stopped to show us some of the more interesting items. Any one of us could have purchased a live rhinoceros beetle. They dip the horns in gold and use it for jewelry. There were toilet seats (two of them) displayed in one store. I asked out loud what they’d use them for and French suggested they would make nice picture frames. At the produce market Eric explained some of the fruit and asked if we would like a taste. He then did what I thought was very nice. He bought a lot of the fruit for the boat. OAT brings 100,000 tourists to the area each year. The economics of tourism has also increased the cultural pride the Indians are showing. They can preserve their heritage and make a living at it too.

We were turned loose to wander on our own and were to reassemble at the plaza in half an hour. Eric didn’t give us directions. He told us we could figure it out. It was easy. We asked in Spanish and the kid answered, “Over there.” We picked up an escort of children who wanted to be hangers on and some who were selling things. They weren’t aggressive and would take a “no gracias” for an answer but then another child would replace the one who just went packing. Their “handler” followed at a distance. He was an adult to whom they brought the money and went to for re-stocking their wares. He was less than a pimp and better than Fagan I didn’t get the feeling that pick pocketing was an issue here. When the vendors needed to make change they were scrupulous even if they had to go to several co-workers for the accurate amount.

Music blared over it all. It was as loud and unappealing as the markets in the Arab countries we’ve visited. We moved away from the town center to a sad little lagoon and park area where we stood under a pavilion to watch students put on a show of native dances. Some of us were invited to join in. I had found a seat on the only bench in the pavilion and was not getting up. Even the babies here are lethargic from the heat.

Dennis, one of the crew, was celebrating an anniversary today. His wife, Isabella met him in Nauta last night and was with us today. They live in Iquitos. She teaches English, German, and French at the University. We were all offering them our rooms to use for an hour.

Eric had organized twelve tuk-tuks to take us on a wild ride around the outer regions of Nauta. It was an amusing parade and we attracted attention at every turn. Even naked toddlers joined in greeting us. The breeze felt good but it was a loud, un-narrated, exhaust filled excursion. I thought they should sell hearing aids at the end point. Our driver proudly pointed out a new gas station that was being built. I suggested that the horse in the yard next door was more reliable. That bubble was burst as the horse walked away from its plot and headed for the main road. OAT paid the drivers but we tipped a dollar per tuk-tuk. We’ve experienced this in other places but the people here absolutely will not take any bills that aren’t clean. They can’t have tears or writing on them or else they ask for replacements. We had a fair amount of trading going on among us after the ride.

Winding Up

Our pre-lunch lesson was in towel origami. That is so cliché cruise ship. The crew folded our bath towels in a different configuration every day and they shared their talents with us. We learned to make boots, butterflies, dogs, flowers, and a shirt complete with collar. I forgot how to do one as soon as they moved onto another.

David is trying to figure out the tips in two currencies and then we will tackle the questionnaires and evaluation forms. One of my beefs is that they ran out of diet Coke the second day.

We had a review of what we saw and went over a list of the birds and critters we’d supposedly seen. It was more a list of what Eric had seen. We tip the crew and Eric tonight. I wonder if this was a reminder of how much material we covered?

We segued into a Q and A that turned out to be fascinating. We learned lots of snippets of info: Ours is the only flat-bottomed cruise boat. They can contact a seaplane in case there’s a need for medical evacuation. The bad part is that the sick person is evacuated to Iquitos. The stomach problems we have been experiencing is probably due to a reaction to the malaria medication (I do not believe it all is).

He spoke of the missionaries that came in the 1960’s and 1970’s. They emphasized social work first and evangelism second. The missionaries today are just the reverse. They evangelize and do little social good and have been less successful.

Then we started asking personal questions. Eric was very willing to answer and added a lot to what we knew. He’s of the huitoto tribe. His father abused his mother (read raped) when she was thirteen. The village sentenced him to jail if he didn’t marry her. She left when Eric was three months old and his grandparents raised him. His grandfather was an alcoholic as was his uncle. Everyone in the village smoked tobacco (there was no pot) to keep the bugs away at night or out of boredom. There was a lot of arguing. He always had dreams during which he spoke to the dead and tried apprenticing as a shaman. He thought it was too hard a life and wanted more. At seven years old he decided that he didn’t want that kind of life and became an excellent student. No one encouraged him but he decided to always strive to be #1. He recognizes that he’s now a role model and encourages children, including his own, to be leaders and strive for success.
Eric reviewed the schedule for tomorrow and he confirmed what we’d already figured out. We have to wake up at 4 AM for a 7:30 flight from Iquitos to Lima. It’s hard to believe that this portion is almost over but we still have Cusco and Machu Pichu ahead of us.

Last Night

A storm came up as night approached. We pulled ashore but for some reason the captain decided to head out again. It feels as if there are whitecaps out there. We just hit a huge wake or log and the engines stopped. Fortunately we’re now heading downstream and the lights of Iquitos are visible.

After dinner there was a musical presentation by the crew who was all spiffed up in their uniforms. We gave them envelopes with their tips and they gave us certificates of appreciation for sailing with them. Then Nick and Louise sang an original song about the cruise. Everyone was mentioned by name. They sang about how I’d become a Coke Light dipso while David stuck to Cipro (an anti-biotic for diarrhea). Afterwards I told them that I imagine it was lots of fun coming up with rhymes they couldn’t use. They said it was amazing how many unusable words rhyme with Delores.

JOIN US ON THE AQUAMARINA by Louise MacLellan-Ruf & Nicolas Ruf

Refrain: Come join us on the Aquamarina
We’ll feed you iguana, caiman, farina
Don’t you worry that you might sicken
‘cause everything tastes just like chicken

Verses:

June’s hanging out with a howling monkey
Now something’s wrong – Ron’s smelling funky;
Rebecca’s gone to see the anaconda
Which Jerry’s grown to be very fonda.

John’s shooting videos and fishing for trout
While Cathy’s capsized in the dugout;
Toby’s turned into a Diet Coke dipso,
David’s been living on nothing but Cipro.

We could all learn a lesson from Barbara and Jack:
They wear the same clothes so it’s easy to pack;
Rooming alone were Judi and Ellen;
What went on in their rooms nobody’s tellin’

Nina learned how in the jungle they talk

Phil keeps on asking, “Are we going to have to walk?”

For their honeymoon along came

John and Cheryl Who had to sleep stacked up ‘cause their bed was so narrow.

Stefanie and Delores came up to Iquitos

Where they ate some bad food and fed the mosquitoes;

French must make a caliente hot date ‘cause Wendy shows up for breakfast so late.

Eric and Freddy took good care of us:

They didn’t sink the skiff; they didn’t wreck the bus;

Dennis and Edgar and Ameliar

Played pipes, charango, and Spanish guitar.

Last but not least to the Captain and crew:

What a GREAT TRIP we’ll never forget Peru;

So gracias mi amigos y hasta luego

We’ll carry you with us wherever we go.

Eventually our engines were up and running and we pulled into Iquitos.

Toby

Yet the Amazon

March 3, 2006-Yet More Discoveries
(Photos:Breakfast al fresco,
Dugout jam)

We were awakened at 5:30AM. It keeps getting earlier. The jeans I put on for the 5th day in a row are staying here. They have fashionable holes around the rear pockets through which you can see my underwear. Some people pay lots of money for that touch, but at my age I’ll take a pass.

Our “treat” today was yet another skiff ride in search of ….birds. I fell asleep twice for fairly long periods during the two-hour ride. But, I wouldn’t have missed our picnic breakfast for the world. The skiff tied up to a tree and the crew passed out trays lined with cloth placemats on which were china plates laden with sandwiches, a roll, juice box, and a banana. They had urns of coffee, marmalade, butter, and best of all, peanut butter. Where have they been hiding it? We Purelled en masse and tucked in. We sat in rows on either side of the skiff and ate like we dined al fresco on the water every day. There was enough swapping going on to rival a grade school lunchroom. People traded ham for chicken and Phil cornered the market on the fresh tomatoes. There was a brief dolphin show interlude where the pink ones breached higher than I’d seen before. River dolphins don’t jump like fresh water ones. The black water was so dense and impenetrable it was impossible to see anything but reflections in its ebony surface. The staff collected our trays and offered to take us to the jungle “rest stop.” The boat was a half hour away so we all crossed our legs and held on.

We barely had time to do our toilette before we re-boarded the skiff to be taken across the tributary for our dugout canoe ride. I thought they’d replaced it with the catamarans but I was wrong. I really didn’t want to go into that water and the dugouts are as wobbly as they look. We were given life jackets to wear (not a good sign) and lowered onto splinter-laden seats. The challenge was what to do with my legs. I sat spread-eagle until I realized that my knees were vulnerable then I gingerly stretched them out in front of me ever so careful not to overbalance. My paddler was a very strong woman. I had an oar and tried to keep up but when we entered the dense mangrove area I put the paddle between my legs and tried not to interfere. We were gone half an hour and it was a trip into the bowels of the wetlands. The water was up to the treetops. That meant that we were too. We cruised silently under the tops of giant trees and weaved in and out of fallen trunks and jungle debris. Every once in a while my paddler bailed. I didn’t realize until we were back that all the canoes leaked. Arches of aerial roots reached out their woody tendrils to enmesh the unwary in a deadly embrace. It looked as if we’d found the forest that tried to swallow Snow White when she was fleeing the wicked queen. We circled around the perimeter of an isolated lake before heading back. I claimed the most unique sighting of all. I was the only one to glimpse the blue and yellow microwave popcorn box hanging on a limb. I forgot about my notoriety when David asked if I noticed how the paddler kept looking up into the trees trying to spot snakes. Thankfully, I had not.

During lunch a wild storm moved in. It lashed the boat to the point where I thought it would blow doors open. Plastic deck chairs skittered down walkways as the crew ran to retrieve them. Rain pounded the roof and wind gusts drove sheets of water from roof to one deck then the other in a cascade. Eric said it would only last a half hour and it did.

Yet More Learning

Our siesta ended in time for a lecture on the Amazon. The origin of the name Amazon was interesting. When the Spanish encountered what looked like blond women with no breasts they went home and reported they’d seen Amazonas. In Spanish “A” means without and “mas” means breasts. What they had really seen were native warriors wearing dried palm tree fiber on their heads and palm tree fiber skirts. The yellow of the dried raffia appeared to be blond hair. For those of you not interested in statistics you may stop reading now. Eric was the lecturer and he told us that there has been a debate as to which river is longer, the Nile or the Amazon. The latest wisdom says it’s the Amazon.

In 1984, Jacques Cousteau investigated the river. He found that the mouth was 200 miles wide on the Atlantic side. It’s been called the Rio Mar (River Sea) and it’s up to 450 feet deep at that point. The source is 4,500 miles away high up in the mountains of Araquipa at 18,200 feet. When the water of the Amazon enters the Atlantic it pushes the seawater back 120 miles before fresh and salt-water start to mix. It flows at the rate of 7,100,000 cubic feet per second. If Lake Superior was emptied the water from the Amazon could re-fill it in an hour. The Amazon has 1,100 tributaries and 2,500 species of fish. It holds 75% of all the fresh water in the world. Every three years on March 21, and September 22 or 23, there’s a riptide lasting six hours. At that time the ocean pushes the river back fifty miles. People come from around the world to surf it. The river only drops two inches every mile and is too wide to build a dam so there are no hydroelectric plants. There’s talk about building one along a tributary.

There’s no regulation of logging. The government owns all the rain forests and taxes have to be paid but logging isn’t controlled. Anyone can present a project to the government for anything, e.g. research, and proceed to strip the trees and no one will bother them. Natives can live anywhere they want and may hunt only to feed their family. The only limit on natives hunting endangered species is that it has to be an amount used to feed their family alone.

When all the continents were joined the source of the Amazon was in Africa where there is only desert now. Tectonic plates are moving the continents closer together again. Asia and South America will be joined one day and North America is on its way towards the equator. So much for trying to fix global warming. This might happen in 250 million years but there’s a bigger concern. There will be an ice age first that will last fifty million years. Poor David didn’t know whether to sell our house now or wait until it was in a more moderate climate.

Playing Hooky

There was an excursion up Nauta Creek this afternoon. I skipped it. David went. I was sure they’ll spot the only jaguar left in the jungle. I enjoyed the solitude of the boat and stayed on deck with another couple and read. When they came back they hadn’t seen a jaguar but there was an amusing moment. Eric asked them to sit quietly and listen to the sounds of the jungle. At that moment a jet flew over.

Tonight was Shabbat. We asked the other Jewish couple, Phil and Nina, to join us as well as Judi. John and Kathy, Catholics, asked to come to our room out of curiosity. I like being able to stop and welcome Shabbat even when we’re busy traveling.

We’re tied up outside Nauta, a metropolis of about 13,000 or 30,000 ( I couldn’t understand Freddy). After almost six days of having the only lights on the river when we tied up it was curious to see the flickering of the big city on the shore.

The Mute/Dolphin Band became the Screaming Band tonight. Lots of laughs. Surprise! They have a CD for sale. We were ready to buy one but they need a business manager. They had none here on the boat. They said they’d take our addresses and mail them to us.

Tomorrow we go into Nauta for our last chance to buy Amazonia. At least the wake-up knock is at the relatively civilized hour of 7AM.

Toby

Still the Amazon

March 2, 2006-Wows
(Photos:Rhinoceros beetle,
Host family)

I must say that my skin hasn’t looked this good in a long time. It’s hot, humid, and there’s no central heat; the perfect recipe for plump skin and fewer wrinkles. I’m sure I’ll be all shrunken again by the time we get home.

It rained hard last night but stopped before breakfast. That meant that critters would be about for our early morning walk along the path we took last night. This time we continued around the entire 1.5-mile loop. It took us three hours. We stopped for everything green and anything that moved. I must say that we saw a lot more in rainforests in Australia and Costa Rica. I think this is our last rain forest tour.

At the beginning of the walk we gathered around a tiny plot of earth. Tiny shovels were placed next to tiny saplings. We were told that we could plant the little mahogany trees ourselves. It reminded me of our experience planting trees in Israel. My dad was a farmer (grew oranges) and I’ve always had an affinity for what survives us and what we do for future generations. Trees are the ultimate gift to the earth and the future. Eric led us in a blessing to protect the rain forest for the children of our children.

We began to distinguish between a “wow” and a “wow-wow.” The guides feign enthusiasm for each sighting but I cannot imagine that after all this time it’s genuine. We saw monkeys again, a rhinoceros beetle, a convention of raucous parrots, a blue morpho butterfly, and a walking palm. The palm roots are above ground and reach out towards the sun to send new shoots. They can travel 8”-2 feet in a year.

We traversed the usual paths and tackled the eight suspension bridges and nine platforms. Only six of us could be on a bridge at one time and the bridges were extremely frisky. They reminded me of when our granddaughter Talia and I go on the little suspension bridge at the park. We always call out, “Wobble, wobble.” Just when I thought we crossed the last bridge and were near the lodge we began an interminable walk. The mud was slippery and I wanted it to be over. I took off moving quickly not realizing I was leaving Judi and David far behind. Darwin, one of the young escorts plucked a leaf from a tree when I said it was hot and he followed me and fanned me all the way back. By the time I missed David and Judi it was too late to turn around. They stuck together with their group and eventually showed up at the lodge swimming pool where we were offered banana muffins and ice cream. We were permitted to swim in the pool but even though several brought suits only one took advantage of it. The thought of having to put on our sweaty muddy clothes after swimming was too much to handle. One of our grouped a muffin to the wild monkeys with the permission of Eric. I was surprised at that. One monkey became very aggressive. They do put food out to lure the animals for the tourists to see but I don’t think it’s wise for the animals to learn that tourists can be a food source.

Village Vittles

We sailed a few yards downriver to a small village where a native family was preparing lunch for us. After placing the gangplank down our trusty crew erected a portable handrail tied with rope. I hadn’t noticed before but they must do it at every stop. At least they look out for us.

It was at that point that our camera died. There was a pop and David thought we needed a new battery. When he took the old one out it was fiery hot. He put the new one in and it too popped. We’ve commissioned Judi to be our photographer for the remainder of the trip. We always swap pictures anyway.

The village house where lunch was to be was the usual palm construction but this one was larger than expected. It had a family meeting room that easily accommodated almost thirty people. There were sleeping rooms, a loft, and a kitchen, which I was told was immaculate. The lodge where we’d walked this morning let the village tap into its electricity between 6 PM and midnight.

Our host family was introduced to us. They were freshly scrubbed and in newly laundered clothing. The mother was thirty-three years old. There were five children with the youngest being one year and four months. The mom appeared to be pregnant. The father was nineteen years old when they married and the mother was fifteen. They’d prefer if their children did not follow in their footsteps. They want them to go to school and become professionals. The thirteen year old girl wants to be a tour guide and the fifteen year old boy wants to study forest engineering.

They asked for help from strong men to bring the table in. It consisted of three huge palm leaves that were placed on the floor. The food was placed on the leaves and the mother demonstrated how to assemble and eat it. There were plates and cups but no utensils. They served a delicious fish with tomato and onions wrapped in a large leaf of some sort, grilled bananas in the skin, fish pond fruit and the juice made from it, (the fruit was dry and I drank my own bottled water), monkey brain (which is a nut), bread fruit, manioc root, mashed plantain, farina, and a yellow tomato salsa. We sat on benches along a wall and ate with our fingers. It was Purell all around.

The family and crew from our boat sat on the floor to eat. The mother and baby sat on the floor a little bit away from the group. She fed the baby then ate herself. When we gave them the gifts we brought from home they were presented in a ceremonial manner. We lined up opposite the family and each of us took turns walking up to them. We told them where we were from and gave them the gift. Freddy translated. Then we climbed the hill to their village gift shop.

Entertaining the Troops

Our late afternoon lesson on board the Aquamarina was learning how to cook a native dish called juane. It’s eaten during June celebrations. Chef Edwin provided the ingredients and we took turns assembling it. Two marantha leaves were held in the hand. Cooked rice was mixed with raw egg and piled on the leaves. Cooked chicken that had been marinated in garlic, bay leaf, turmeric, and ginger was added. To that was added olives, a hard-boiled egg, and more rice. It was wrapped in a bundle like a beggars pouch you see in Chinese restaurants and tied with string made from balsa wood. It was then boiled for a half hour and was part of our dinner. It was blander than I thought it would be. Since we seem to have run out of Coke Light on the boat I tried Inca Kola Light. It’s the national drink and tastes like cotton candy.

What do you do with the kids when you have down time? You show a video. We watched the National Geographic film called Land of the Flooded Forest. Since that’s what we’re seeing it was perfect. We’d tied up to a tree for the night and it was eerie to look out the window and see what was on the TV. At the end of the video the sun was setting on film as well as outside our picture windows. To make us feel more at home they passed around popcorn. It really was a nice touch.

When the continents split apart and South American drifted southwest seawater was trapped inland. That accounts for the dolphin and stingrays that got stuck here and had to adapt. The Amazon was a huge inland sea until the Andes rose forcing it to flow to the Atlantic and Pacific. During rainy season the water can reach up to thirty miles inland. I didn’t know that sloths were proficient swimmers. It looks like they’re doing underwater tai chi. Flooding allows them to move around more than they can above ground. Eric spotted a pod of dolphin cavorting off the stern so we paused the video about the Amazon to actually watch what was going on in the real Amazon.

There was a fried manioc appetizer with mayo/mustard dip before dinner. Yum! The Mute Band transformed itself into the Freshwater Dolphin Band and provided another joyous hour of entertainment. OAT hired the group of men as a band to play once a week on their cruises and then trained them as crew so that they were available every night. It was a good decision. They’re all very personable, good musicians, and good at their shipboard jobs. One man in particular is multi-talented. At one point during the evening he was holding a rondador under his arm and playing it while strumming a ukulele. They were going to teach us the Macarena but we knew it with a new twist for them. They don’t change direction during the dance. We taught them how to hop and turn. We didn’t realize it but we’d attracted an audience from a nearby village. The tree to which our boat was tied was loaded with kids watching our show.

Perhaps there’s such a thing as over-scheduling. There’s little down time to just sit and watch the world go by. We get about two hour siestas in the afternoon but little other time to loaf. Lots of the excursions are the same-old-same-old. There’s little to see here in any season except for birds, monkeys, and sloths. I thought it was because it was the rainy season but Eric said that the land animals aren’t easily visible at any time. On the skiff trip tonight we caught quick glimpses of night birds and one baby boa. I felt sorry for it. Freddy tried to grab it to help us see it better and it slithered away. I’m surprised they’re even permitted to interfere with the animals. We traveled at high speed in the skiff without running lights. I was sure we’d hit a log.
The best part of the trip was that we could see lots of stars. There’s nothing like jungle darkness. Well, maybe desert dark.

Tomorrow we have an early wake-up to see what? More birds.

Toby

Amazonian Time

March 1, 2006- Sick Time
(photos:Villagers with boom box & electric clock,
David pressing sugar cane,
School children,
Shamans,
Ready for night hike)

We had a wake-up knock on our door at 6AM to get ready for a skiff ride into the jungle to see early morning activity. Unfortunately, it was raining and animals and birds have more sense than we do and take shelter. We postponed the activity for another day.

We’ve stopped locking our cabin door. If anything is missing we have a limited number of culprits. Besides, the steward is in and out of the room all the time. We do keep the desk drawer where we store the computer and documents locked and that key stays with us.

Since our schedule is so flexible some of us decided to list an alternative schedule next to the one that Eric put up. We included a parasite check with a notation to bring a stool sample; we planned a key exchange after the Mute Band concert; and skinny-dipping after dinner.

Two of the three couples joining us in Lima are now sick. Dolores who is traveling with a female friend is suffering from both ends. If nothing else there’s a good supply of Pepto, Imodium, lomotil, and Cipro on this boat. Supposedly the water on the boat for drinking and ice-cubes is purified. We’re all taking malaria meds and that can cause slight diarrhea but not what has been going around. David is convinced that the food and drink on the boat are safe. I think the source of contamination is somewhere in the kitchen.

Visiting Time

We moved up our village visit to fill the morning and boarded our skiff to float approximately twenty feet to shore. I guess the river was too shallow to get the big boat closer. We walked up newly cut mud steps into La Palma, a close-knit communal gathering of fifty people. The government owns the land but the village leaders parcel it out for the use of the inhabitants. Overseas Adventure Travel, the company that organized our tour, doesn’t pay a fee for each visit. Instead, they built a school. The government provides the teacher and the supplies needed to teach. Students have to provide their own supplies. That’s why we collected money last night and one of the crew went into Nauta to stock up. We left two bagsful of crayon, pencils, etc. People in our group who have traveled with OAT before brought gifts from home.

The palm thatch roofed houses were spread over a large area with a well-maintained soccer field as a centerpiece. They keep the grass cut by using machetes. Machetes are also the basic kitchen tools. We watched women nimbly peeling manioc without a thought to losing a digit. The same machetes are used to cut down the manioc tree so we knew it was sharp. The first open-walled stilt-house we stopped at was a handicraft workshop. It tickled me that they had a boom box and working clock on a shelf. That goes along with the teen-aged girl wearing low-slung hip-hugging jeans. There was a little disconnect for me there.

They salt the excess meat and fish for the future and several people tasted BBQ cayman meat and the many fruits and drinks prepared for us. David thinks that OAT knows what it’s doing but I will watch to see who gets sick. Eric said the food is high in carbs but low in vitamins, protein, and calcium. Villagers don’t have good teeth at all, but the carbs provide the energy they need for all the physical labor they perform. They showed us a nail file/buffer made from the scales of the arapaima fish. It was attractive and worked very well.

Some of us took turns shooting a bow and arrow at a papaya. The papaya gets to live another day. No one, including the villager who demonstrated for us, hit it. By comparison the cane press we saw yesterday at the still is light-years head of what they had in the village today. They used an ironwood press to manually squeeze every ounce of juice out of the cane. The sweetness is appreciated there. Native fruits are mostly sour due to the soil. Eric explained that several are used as medicine. Papaya seeds are a purge and the juice can be sprayed as a fungicide. Yellow tomatoes are used to treat diabetes. It is a barter economy. Cash is only needed for what they cannot grow like sugar and salt.

We walked across the field to the school and were seated at desks. The building is elevated as is everything and has a metal roof. Small dried animals hung from the beams; three blackboards were scattered around the large space; and maps, posters, and childrens’ drawings hung on the walls. The little girls were especially cute and had a noticeable Asian look. Since they’re on break now and the teacher is gone, Eric took over. He knew the drill having grown up in a similar village. The children lined up and spaced themselves by putting their hands on the shoulders of the one in front. Then we introduced ourselves. After each of us said our name the children repeated it back. Then they said the name again as they clapped out to the number of syllables in the name. They sang a song that required us to join in and then it was our turn. French was our leader since he was a teacher. He chose “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes” as our song. We all stood up and sang using the motions. It was a perfect choice since the next thing the kids did was to teach us body parts in Spanish. We presented our gifts and the president of the mother’s club stepped forward to thank us. She will be the one to distribute them. The children all came to say good-bye to us and to shake hands. Freddy, Eric’s assistant, is a tour-guide-wannabee. He stood by with wet towels for us to clean up. As with all “touristic” experiences there was a stop at the gift shop. Some shopped. I went to jail. The two narrow cells hold one person each. They were barely wider than my shoulders. Most of the prisoners are there as the result of family feuds and abusive behavior.

When we got back on the boat we were glad we’d bought rubber Totes boots to use over our shoes. We left them outside the door as instructed and they were cleaned and returned to us within half an hour.

Shaman Time

In the afternoon, after a 2-hour siesta, we visited a village shaman. We walked along a path fashioned from tree stumps to a large round open-air building with a conical palm frond roof. The first thing I noticed were mannequins of how the tribe’s people dressed before the missionaries made them put on clothes. It was a bit too much Disney for my taste. This is a tribe that takes heads as war trophies. The most recent were from Ecuadorian natives. The enemy heads are shrunken as a way to absorb the strength and knowledge of their foes.

Smoke wafted from an aromatic fire to ward off mosquitoes and we settled in and tried to breath the heavy air. We sat on tall stumps and were introduced to the head shaman, his assistant, and his apprentice. As Eric introduced the shamans he told us that he’d been an apprentice and had taken hallucinogens called aya huasca while studying. Behind the seated shamans was what looked like a bar with bottles of liquor lined up. Over the bar hung a cross. The head shaman started studying at age sixteen. He became a full-fledged shaman at twenty-one. He is now sixty-seven years old, has one wife, and nine children. He takes hallucinogens three times a week in order to contact the spirits. That compound of plants contains atropine and scopolamine among other goodies. It’s important to learn to control the drug-induced visions in order to help his patients. Sometimes the patients are given aya huasca as well. It means dead vine and is considered to be a way into the spirit world. It induces a ceremonial death where no one dies. It cannot be taken by anyone with high blood pressure. Since there is no blood-pressure cuff available the shaman feels the pulse and can tell if it’s safe. His assistant came from one month away by river to study with the other shaman and decided to stay. He ‘s fifty-four years old, has one wife and nine children. There was a twenty-three year old woman apprentice who had one child. Female shamans take the hallucinogen while pregnant. It makes the baby stronger. It ‘s thought that women make the best shamans. They’re stronger physically and spiritually. The head shaman said that they’re dedicated to finding new plants and cures.

Shamans don’t work with animal spirits and will pray to God when the meds don’t work. They believe that God works through them and the medication and doesn’t perform miracles. Since the Spanish arrived they only believe in one God. The cross over the bar protects their bodies and spirits through Jesus Christ who gives God’s blessing. They assist in childbirth and try to cure the problems caused by black magic done by witch doctors who practice the evil arts. They’re paid in food and other goods. Shamans are born not made. When a baby cries before it is born and still in the mother it’s a sign it will become a shaman. Shamans don’t do surgery but refer to modern medical professionals. There aren’t many shamans now. The Spanish brought diseases shamans couldn’t heal; their people were disillusioned and cast the holy men out or killed them.

What looked like liquor bottles at a bar were liquor bottles filled with potions. Rum is used to marinate tree bark in some instances. They passed around samples for us to smell or taste depending on our courage. We smelled. The aya huasca smelled like a Bloody Mary. Eric said it tasted like chicken. The dragon blood concoction was used to heal wounds. It stops bleeding and regenerates cells. Many rubbed it on their mosquito bites. Cats claw has been proven by science to improve the immune system. A German company is making it into pills to help with cancer. It’s also used to treat AIDS. It smells like rum. Then there was STWS. It’s to help with impotence and is what the locals call Seven Times Without Stopping. It’s good for men and women. In the 1970’s botanists began to study Amazonian plants and their medicinal qualities in earnest. Most have been found to be efficacious.

They started a ceremony to bring us good fortune. They knelt and chanted and made the sign of the cross over their own foreheads. We were all given dried berries (beads) to hold in our cupped hands. One by one the shaman blew smoke from a large cigarette that smelled like a cigar into our hands. His assistant followed around the circle with a fan and waved it over our hands. The next step was for each of us to have smoke blown onto the back of our heads and into our hair. We are now a great smelling group but bug-proof. The woman shaman then did the same for the head shaman as he knelt before her. Her chanting was different and the assistant shaman accompanied her with rain sticks.

I realized that it was Ash Wednesday and we had Catholics in our midst. They said they’d remember it as the most unique Ash Wednesday they’d ever spent. I found it very moving. It spoke to me more than the ritual to which I am accustomed. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar and primitive that I was caught up in. Maybe it was the utter belief and sincerity with which they shared their tradition. Through it all I identified with their struggle against oppression to save this precious part of their history, culture, and identity.

At the end of the ceremony the mood broke when we were invited outside for a photo op. We posed, shook hands, and hauled out our Purell. They must think that foreigners practice an odd hand-shaking ritual.

We walked down a path to a man-made lake and got to canoe in catamarans. They used to use single canoes but too many tourists went overboard. The lake was formed for the study of dolphins and a few breached as we paddled by. We were able to see scarlet macaws, capybaras, and otters. River lettuce was being grown hydroponicly in log-rimmed enclosures. I became really excited when I spotted what looked like a long “something” swimming under water. I thought it might be a snake, a dolphin, or the Loch Ness Monster, but it was John’s fishing lure. Once again he came up empty.

Night Time

Meals have been pleasant socially. People mix it up with different dinner partners at every meal. The pre-dinner concert tonight was Nick and Louise singing original songs and accompanying themselves on guitars. They’re quite creative and talented. They’re working on a CD. You heard it here first.

We debated whether or not to go on the night walk and decided we didn’t want to miss anything. We were told to outfit ourselves in the gaiters and to wear long sleeves and long pants. Longs and longs have been standard for most daytime treks as well. We put our Totes over our shoes and wore fly nets over our hats. We were supposed to wear hats in case anything fell from the trees. That wasn’t heartening. In this heat and humidity we became walking human saunas. We stepped gingerly navigating by flashlight along the path made of sunken tree rounds and I noticed they had wire mesh nailed to the surface to prevent slipping. Everything in the jungle is wet, slimy, and waiting for a misstep. We had Eric up front and Freddy at our rear. Along the sides of the path we were escorted by four native youths also wearing gaiters. I guess they take the snakes seriously. Halfway through the walk I realized that no self-respecting snake would venture onto the path with sixteen tourists clomping along. I did realize my goal of not seeing a single snake along our route. We saw spiders, a scorpion, a sloth, a beetle, a kinkajou, and monkeys. The beetle was as big as my palm. It got me to wondering why bugs are huge in the rain forest and people are so small. At the midpoint of the hike we came to a clearing and were asked to sit down on benches. We were told to turn our flashlights off and be quiet. The darkness was complete. There was no difference in my vision whether my eyes were open or not. The dense canopy kept out any ambient light from stars and we stood in silence for a good five minutes. The squeaks, chirps, and howls were intensified and our isolation was magnified.

Tomorrow we get to do it all in the daytime. It will probably look much the same. My focus was on where I was stepping. We asked one of the waiters what we would see in the trees at night. He said that we would see leaves. He was basically right.

Toby