out of the jungle...into the mountains...

Since Tarapoto, I´ve been moving pretty quickly. I want to get to Bolivia sooner than later, and I was pretty far in the north of Peru, so I´ve made a couple big jumps. From Tarapoto, I got on a bus to Tingo Maria. It was supposed to arrive at midnight, after having left at nine in the morning. However, the road through the jungle is a dirt road that barely exists. The bus crept at a snail´s pace and often rocked back and forth when going through puddles or uneven ground. Sometimes it seemed to be on the verge of tipping over, and other times, the bus would stall out a good 4 or 5 times in a row just trying to get through a big puddle. I should have known when I saw the condition that the bus was in to begin with...it looked like it had gone to war. Unfortunately, there is only one company that makes the trip so I had no other option. At about 10 pm the bus stopped in its path, behind a couple of big trucks. Here, one of the big trucks had gotten stuck right on a curve and on the edge of a cliff. If they would have tried to push it out, it is likely that it would have gone over the edge of the cliff. So they had to wait for a truck to come in the opposite direction that could pull it out.

The bus driver told us all to use the bathroom so he could shut the door for the night, because that is where we were going to stay. Everyone got off the bus and found some place along the road to do their business and then got back on. People were a little upset, so the bus driver decided to play a cassette of romantic music to calm everyone down. It was pretty comical. So we slept, sitting up straight, until seven in the morning, when a big enough truck came to pull the stuck truck out of the ditch. We ended up arriving in Tingo Maria at two in the afternoon.

Tingo Maria is just as hot and humid as Tarapoto, maybe even more jungly. The first place that I went to ask about a room, I pulled back the sheets to find two big fleas, a stone and an obviously slept-in bed. So then I got to wander to the other side of town looking for another place. Finally I found a hotel with a very nice owner and clean rooms and bathrooms. After having gone out and walked around town, I was back in the room practicing and I saw two huge dengue mosquitos. It was too surreal. I decided to go back out and hang out on the street until as late as I could. I met a couple guys who are students in the universidad. They took me around town and then we hung out in the Plaza until about 11 pm. When I went back to the room to sleep, I first bathed in mosquito repellent and then slept with all of my clothes on and the blanket, sweating like a pig.

Needless to say, I left the next day for Huancayo, where I am now. In the seat next to me was a woman with her 5 yr old and 1 yr old baby. That means that between two regular bus seats were four people and a cello, aka uncomfortable. At 4:30 in the morning we arrived in Huancayo to freezing cold weather and an obvious change in altitude. Breathing is still a little weird (here is 3300 meters) and I feel that I have a good case of chapped lips coming my way. All the concrete and lack of vegetation is a shock too, I don´t really like it, but I´m sure that here are a lot of things that are lacking in the jungle...

The best hotel that I could find in Chachapoyas seemed more like an ice rink. It had wood stairs and cement floors and in order to ¨prevent termites¨ they dump a ton of ¨petroleo¨ on it all. I think petroleo must be diesel fuel by the smell. Regardless, its super slippery and I couldn´t walk anywhere but at a snail´s pace. Then the light bulb in the bathroom burned out. I asked the guy at the ¨desk¨ if he would change it, and he straight up refused. As some compensation, he asked if I would like to use his flashlight, as long as I returned it to him right away. When I thought my patience had run out, I went to take a shower in hot water (after hiking over 60 miles in 3 days, my muscles were crying for a hot shower), which was the only reason I stayed at this hotel to begin with. The catch was that you have to pay extra for them to turn on the hot water. I swallowed my pride and paid, and in the end, the water was barely warm. I tried to find a better hotel, but its a pretty sad situation in Chachapoyas. In the end, I didn´t even stay 24 hours.

I went to where the combis (vans) leave for Pedro Ruiz, the next little town along the road. I had to sit there for three hours waiting for there to be enough passengers. Finally, we left at about 5 pm, only to arrive halfway to a big road block. They recently started paving the road and close it down all day while they are working. We had to sit there until 7 pm, when the big dumptrucks and steamrollers started moving out. Finally, we arrived in Pedro Ruiz when it was already dark.

Pedro Ruiz is a funny little town. It is situated around a river and the only paved road is the highway which cuts along one side. The rest is dusty dirt streets. The town is small, a couple hundred people maybe, but everyone is out on the street all the time. The climate is very very hot, and there are tropical plants, palm trees and banana trees everywhere. Everything is also very cheap. No tourists come here, so people reacted a little funny when they saw me. The nine-year-old kid at the hotel would stand outside my door with his macaw anytime that I was practicing. He would try to get it to sing and talk until I opened the door. Then he would watch, without saying anything, and looking at my cello from every direction. Whenever I stopped, he would ask to pluck the strings. It was pretty comical, he´ll probably talk about it for a long time.

Saturday, I decided to go to Gocta, the third tallest waterfall in the world. It is fairly close to Pedro Ruiz, the only problem being the road block. I convinced a kid on a motorcycle to take me to Cocahuayco for five bucks. Cocahuayco is the village along the main road that is closest to Gocta. I figured that is anyone could make it through the road block, it would be a motorcycle. We had to sweet talk a couple of police officers and construction workers and they finally let us through. From Cocahuayco, I had to hike up a mountain trail to Cocachimba, another little village. In Cocachimba, I signed the visitor book and the woman asked if I wanted a guide to go to the falls. She told me that the trail was pretty easy to follow, as long as I always stayed to my left. I decided to be adventurous and go solo (or sola, better said).

As I left, a skinny little dog stuck right behind me. The woman at the sign-in told me that the little dog would be my guide, that she knows the trail well. I laughed and started up the trail. I followed a couple of trails that were on my left, but obviously were not the correct trail, they led me into chakras (farms and plantations). After two good wrong turns, the little dog finally took the lead and I just followed him. We hiked along a mountainside above corn and sugar cane plantations and then quickly dropped into thick jungle. The trail descended with a bunch of switchbacks, crossed a valley, and then rose again. Occasionally I could get a better view of the waterfall in its entirety (771 meters- 2, 467 feet). It was more impressive from closer.

Finally we arrived at the base of the falls. From underneath, only the bigger, bottom part of the falls was visible. There wasn´t a ton of water falling, but since it came from so high up it seemed to fall in slow motion. There was a pond at the base and a mist was constantly coming up. All around the valley was bright bright green vegetation. Standing underneath was pretty intense, the immensity of it all. I gave the dog a few crackers to thank him for not leading me astray into some weird area of the jungle and then we started our hike back.

Halfway along the trail was a small house and store. I stopped to drink some guarapo. Guarapo is a drink made of boiled and fermented sugarcane juice. Its not very strong (in alcohol content), but it is good after hiking five hours!!! The couple who lived in the house stopped whatever they were doing to talk to me. They said that about half of the tourists arrive to their house and don´t continue to the falls, they get exhausted along the way. Soon however, they will widen the trail to make the falls accessible by horse, so that more tourists can come in. They told me about how they have found lots of human bones around the area and that they were from really tall people. They claim that the ancient inhabitants were over 2 meters tall and lived 200 to 300 years...who knows, I wouldn´t doubt it.

I arrived back in Cocahuayco at about 5 pm. I bought a bottle of water at a little store and sat out front, along the main road to wait for a car that would be going to Pedro Ruiz. At about 7, the van came by, just in time that we didn´t have to sit and wait for the road to open.

Now I am in Tarapoto, a big city in the jungle. There are no tourists here either, and it is even hotter than Pedro Ruiz. I have been sweating nonstop, and have been reminded of everything that I forgot about tropical climates...that you have to shower a million times a day to try to maintain any kind of normal body temperature, you can drink green coconuts whenever you want, wearing flipflops all the time, all of the transportation is via motorcycle (or mototricycle, they even have moto-colectivos, or motos that work like buses picking up and dropping off people!), the weird way it gets dark, the rains that come and go quickly, mosquitos, annoying ants, fruit juice...the regular stuff that you miss when you haven´t been in the jungle for a while...

Tomorrow I will arrive in Tingo Maria, 15 hours to the south, but still in the jungle.

hens, mud, trout and a milk truck...

Four days in Celendin. No one told me that buses only left twice a week, so I was stuck until Sunday. Celendin is pretty quiet, a small little town. The surrounding mountains and plantations are pretty, but don´t leave much to do. Saturday morning, I woke up at 5 o´clock and couldn´t fall back asleep. I laid in bed with my eyes closed until 6 and gave up. I got out of bed, brushed my teeth and went to the bakery across the street for breakfast. The owner of the hotel, Francisco (who is addicted to playing chess), had told me about some thermal baths that are in the valley below. The drive is about an hour and a half, but only because of all the switchbacks. In reality, he said, you could probably arrive walking pretty quickly. I decided to test his hypothesis, so I took off walking to the valley of Llanguat.

From the plaza, it is only about 5 blocks until the town ends and houses are scattered farther and farther apart along the road. For the early hour, there were a lot of people out, starting to work in the fields or walking to the market with their goods to sell. As I walked along, I occasionally asked someone just to make sure I was on the right road. Finally a woman told me that if I saw a little trail off the road, I should take it, otherwise it would take me a very long time. ¨Have a nice walk, gringita...¨ she said as I walked away (in these parts, people say gringo in a very nice way). With those vague directions, I continued and when I saw a little trail I took it. I figured that as long as it went downhill, I must be going in the right direction. The vegetation grew thicker and it was impossible to see where the trail was leading to on the mountainside. I have always felt very small when hiking in the mountains, but when you are by yourself and have some doubts as to if you are on the right trail...or that maybe some rabid dog is going to jump out of the woods and go crazy...well, then you feel really really small. At the worst though, I would just follow the same trail back up and out.

Just at that moment, after about an hour on the trail by myself, a old campesino suddenly appeared behind me. ¨Are you going to the Valle?¨ he asked. I said yes, and he said ¨Let´s go to the valley.¨ He had a mouthful of coca leaves and was almost impossible to understand. Occasionally, when he asked me something, I would have to ask him to repeat himself two or three times. After so many attempts and still not understanding his mumbling, I would just respond any little thing, like what the weather is like in the states or how many brothers and sisters I have. He seemed just as content with my nonrelated responses that the strange conversation continued.

The man was very old, and was going to work in the plantations down below in the valley. He flew down the mountain, making it very hard for me to keep up with him, but I was so glad to know that I was on the right path that I followed. He had a funny way of going down the mountain, stepping on just the large stones instead of in between on the dusty path. It was like crossing a creek stepping only on stones. I caught on after a little while and before I knew it, we were in the valley. We split paths and I went in the direction of the the baths, and he went towards the plantations of sugarcane.

The baths were in the middle of a thick green forest, alongside a large river. There was one large bath with hot brown water that smelled a little weird, a col water pool that looked like it never got cleaned, and a bunch of people bathing in the river. At this point I realized that I was in the most conservative place ever. The women all bathed with all their clothes on...and unfortunatetly, I had on jeans and a long sleeved shirt...the clothing that takes the longest to dry. I didn´t feel like being the talk of the town, so I opted for a private bath. You pay 60 cents, and get big room with a little pool and a spicket that shoots out hot thermal water. It was a much better option, and I sat in the hot water for a good hour until my fingers were wrinkly.

Sunday was finally the day of the bus. At one of the other companies, I was told that buses left at 9 in the morning. I arrived at 8:30 so I could get a good seat for me and the cello. Unfortunatly the bus that I wanted doesn´t actually leave until 11, but there was a 8:30 bus going to a town close-by, seven hours in the direction of my destination. I decided to take that bus instead of sit around. The woman selling tickets insisted that I buy a window seat. I kept telling there that I needed an aisle seat because of the cello, but since I am a ¨tourist,¨ I needed a better view, and plus ¨the bus never goes full.¨ So I get my backpack up on top and go find my seat, leaving the cello in the seat next to me...and of course, a young guy comes up with the ticket next to mine. So I stick the cello on the empty seat behind me, which was the last seat on the bus. Next thing I know, two young guys get on with three live hens...two in a box and one in the guy´s arms. The had the seats next to the cello. So then I have to fight with this guy because he thinks his hen should get the seat next to him instead of my cello, afterall I hadn´t bought the seat for the cello and he had bought the seat next to the empty seat, which obviously made it more his that mine. I tried to convince him that both the cello and the hen could have the seat, but he didn´t want to hear anything of it. Finally a woman sitting next to him who was a little spastic, started to complain that the hen was going to poop all over and that it was already cock-a-doo-da-dooing and that he needed to get a box. And the guy next to me claimed that the cello was his big guitar and that it was very fragile and was going to ride there whether hen-man liked it or not. So the guy with the hen shut up, got a box and shoved the hen under his seat and the cello made it without any problems.

At about 4:30 pm, I arrived in Leymebamba. I got off the bus to find myself in an even tinier little town. There wasn´t even a bank or a market, mostly just houses and, of course, the Plaza de Armas. I found a hotel, dropped off my stuff and started to walk around town. It didn´t take me more than 2o minutes to see everything and I arrived in the Plaza. There I met Egdar, a tour guide from Chachapoyas. He told me that he was taking an American girl and a French guy to the Laguna de los Condores the next morning, and that I could tag along, as long as I threw in some money for food and paid for my stay at the refuge. Since I didn´t have any other plans, I agreed.

Monday morning, we met in the plaza at 7 am. It would be five of us (including another guide), plus a horse. The horse would carry the food and the girl from Wisconsin. After eating arroz a la cubana (rice with fried eggs and fried plantains), we started our walk out of town. As soon as we had arrived out of town we started walking along a smaller dirt trail. It took us on a long ascent up a mountain, through jungle with tons of amazing butterflies and colorful birds. The bird calls were the most amazing, all so distinct. The hike continued on and on, and when I started to feel exhausted (after having gone uphill for a good two hours at Peruvian pace...really fast without stopping), I asked how long of a walk it was to the refuge. Only eight hours, 25 miles, they responded. Of course they always neglect to tell you those little facts. The path then started to cross pampa, immense rolling grassy plains between the mountains. There were stone forests on either side of us and sometimes the grass was really spongey and made it difficult to walk. We stopped to eat lunch half-way there and continued our path.

The rest of the trail was more pampa and then a final descent back into the jungle and through a ton of mud until we arrived at Don Julio´s refuge. The guides had brought boots for themselves and Eric and Anna...the kind of rubber boots that comes up to your knees. However, they also neglected to tell me the little fact that we would be going through a ton of mud. I got to practice my art of jumping on stones and pieces of wood. Sometimes you get going fast and then end up balancing with one foot on a tiny little stone with no where to go, just teetering there trying not to fall over. It was pretty comical. Thankfully, over the 60 miles that we walked in three days, I only took one dive into the mud, just up to my elbows, and there was a river close after that I washed off in.

Don Julio´s refuge is in the middle of the jungle where he cleared a large area of all trees and vegetation for his cattle (yes, this is why I don´t eat meat). Not only did he destruct the land, but before, amongst the jungle were intact Pre-Incan ruins which his cattle have now destroyed almost completely. I quickly gained an intense hatred for Don Julio, but unfortunately, there was no where else to stay. He had built a log cabin with several rooms with bun beds and a rustic kitchen with a wood-burning stove and no chimney (aka, the black room). The floors in all the rooms were packed down dirt and there was no electricity. The only water shot out of a pipe from a spring in the mountainside and made a muddy mess next to the house. Regardless, after walking 25 miles, I was thrilled to arrive and take off my backpack. We made dinner and went to bed by 8 o´clock.

The next morning we slept in a little bit and woke up to have coffee and bread with jelly for breakfast. At about nine we left to hike to the Laguna de los Condores (Condor Lagoon). It was about a half hour walk along the cleared mountain ridge until we had a view of the Lake. The lake is huge and black and lining the other side were stone cliffs almostly entirely covered with thick forest. We hiked down the ridge and to the lakeshore. We crossed a skinny part of the lake on a log to find a trail on the other side. The trail took wound through the jungle (only passable with machete) to a little open area on the shore. Egdar had brought a fishing line and we dug up some worms and these other gross-looking grubs and we took turns fishing until we had caught 11 good-sized trout. We cleaned them, put them in a bag, and left the bag in a little pool in the river that was coming down the mountain.

From there we followed a trail even farther up the mountainside and deeper into the jungle. There were several parts of the trail with rustic wooden ladders and ropes to pull yourself up. We also arrived to a couple places where we had to cross under waterfalls and across logs. The final part was the scariest, scooting across a wet cliff with water falling on you. We finally arrived to the ruins. They are under a rock overhang and included several small stone buildings with windows. There were paintings on the buildings and on the stone cliff and several skulls laying around. Most of the skulls still had hair and teeth. There were also pieces of woven fabric and random ceramic pieces scattered about. This was a burial ground of the Chachapoyas (Pre-Incan) culture. It is intense to be in a place like this knowing that only a handful of people will ever arrive there due to the difficulty in arriving.

That night we had trout soup with noodles. The next morning we woke up at 6, ate breakfast and were hiking by 6:40. The plan was to arrive in Leymebamba as early as possible. The hike back was exhausting, especially since our ¨guides¨ had badly planned the food, and there was nothing to eat along the way. Eight hours and 25 miles of hiking with just coca leaves and water (I remembered why I never go on guided tours). We arrived in Leymebamba exhausted and hungry and went straight to eat a big lunch.

After, we asked around about transportation. The only buses that go to Chachapoyas leave at 4 in the morning and a taxi wanted to charge an absurd amount. We sat in the plaza, exasperated, until a large truck pulled up. In the back it had a gigantic steel cylinder. Egder asked if the guy would give us a ride to Chachapoyas. He agreed for a small fee. Eric and Anna rode in the cabin, and Egder and I rode the three hours in the back of the open truck with a huge cylinder of milk blocking most of our view. It was a long bumpy ride to Chachapoyas, and very very dusty.

I will stay here until my legs stop feeling like rubber.

Back and showered in Huaraz

The following blog is composed of my journal entries from the last four days, written on my trekking trip in the Cordillera Blanca. Dave, my new Australian ´´mate´´ and I made the trip without a guide or burros, just a couple good maps and a good sense of adventure. I feel so fortunate to have been able to experience this amazing place while the glaciers still exist...

June 20, 2007

I´m sitted here listening to the sound of a rumbling creek. Occasionally a small bird chirps. My hands are pretty cold. The sun has already hid behind a mountain, but looking down the valley, I find one mountain still illuminated, its rocky peaks dodging the passing clouds. In the other direction the clouds have formed a crown around the glaciered peak of another mountain. I imagine that it is snowing there. Above there is still blue sky, crisp and pure, the kind of sky that you can only find in places like this, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Where I am sitting is an open area with some kind of short grass that grows almost stuck to the ground. There are rocks dotting the landscape and shrubby little plants. All of them seem to grow in little bunches as if they needed each other to survive the conditions. The mountains cut in and out of the valley, almost completely green! The air is thin, but I finally feel like I can breath deeply.

I am at the Paria campsite of the Santa Cruz trail in the Cordillera Blanca. I have my cup of mate de coca and my little campiong chair to finally give a rest to my sore back. Today was a ´´four´´ hour hike, but we did it in about three with a little break here and there for water. The hike was a ascent of 150 meters (480 feet)...nothing really considering that tomorrow´s is 900 meters (2,880 feet).

We left the hotel in Huaraz at about quarter of six this morning, waited by the bus for a little while only to find out it was full. Then we walked a couple of blocks down the road where we took a combi (VW van) to a town called Yungay. It made a lot of stops, picking up and dropping off people and after an hour we arrived in Yungay, but hungry. We went to a bakery to have yogurt, bread and cheese. When we went to catch the next combi to a town called Vaqueria, they told us that it too was full. We sat down on our backpacks, a little discouraged and after a few minutes, they miraculously made room. The combi went full. Dave had to ride on the fake seat behind the driver (fake because it is really more inclined than reclined, and I rode on a bucket in the middle of two rows. There was a little boy sitting on his mother´s lap next to me and occasionally his head would fall into my lap. I didn´t mind but once when I fell asleep too and our heads both collided, rudely awakening us from out dreams.

The combi went for three hours along endless switchbacks on the typical one-lane dirt and stone road. We passed Llanganuco lake about halfway through. The lake has emerald water and the wind formed miniature waves with tiny white crests. In the foreground, slate gray cliffs fell into the lake and rose far above to green peaks. Along the shore were these mysterious trees with reddish brown bark that peeled off in layers and sheets like an old abandoned house that has been painted over hundreds of times only to be ignored and dealt a good hand of humidity and sun over many years. Even the tiny leaves and braches seemed like spider webs in the sun, and still covered with moss and some other parasitic plants. The whole scene was unreal, the colors more caried than any palate, nature´s way of showing off to the handful of people who actually see this remote place.

The combi finally arrived to Vaqueria, which was nothing more than a few houses on the side of a mountain, and from there we started our hike up the valley. First we passed by several small houses, all mud brick and mostly thatch roofs. The majority of the people were our working their land, but all of the little children greeted us. The kids here get so dirty playing...all covered in mud and dust.

There was a long uphill bout to begin with. Dave ended up a bit in front of me, but I was breathing as hard as I could and tried to just maintain my pace. Occasionally we pased though a more open grassy area, dotted with the reguarl gray stones and other times we passed closer to the river, through forests of eucalyptus and the mysterious peeling bark trees (quenoa). Finally, right before arriving to the campground, we passed through a thicker forest of the mysterious trees with moss lining either side of the trail and up the mountainside. The scenery is just amazing, the hiking challenging, but I just keep a mouthful of coca leaves and try to maintain a steady pace. I look forward to a good night´s sleet and taking a good beating tomorrow. In the end, its gratifying to carry all my own weight when I look at the other hiker who carry nothing and have everything set up and food cooked when they arrive to camp. Its well worth the effort.

June 21, 2007

My hands are very cold. I am writing with gloves. It sounds like the cows are cold too. They are making lots of noise. Today´s campsite is at 4,250 meters (13,600 feet). Today was a very hard hike. We didn´t leave until all the other people had left the campsite, no rush really. We had a breakfast of oatmeal with cinnamon, maca and honey and coca tea with more maca...just can´t get enough when you are backpacking! The beginning of the hike passed through more of the quenoa forests, but they were a bit farther from the trail.

We gradually rose out of the valley and up along a mountain ridge. The slate mountains opposite us seemed to glisten, even with the sun hidden behind the clouds. As we rose along the ridge, the vegetation grew thinner and thinner and it started to drizzle. The rain was scarce and was actually pretty refreshing. As we heared a curce on the ridge, I was sure we would follow it to the left to cross the closest-by mountain. Dave, looking at the imposing stone ridge opposite us said, ´´Wouldn´t it be crazy to have to cross that ridge?´´ I couldn´t even imagine. As we neared it, the drizzle turned into snowflakes and we were finally able to visually follow the trail up and over the ridge that Dave had commented about. The was the Punta de Union pass (or the back way into Mordor, as we decided upon reaching the other side).

The first four hours of our day ended up being pure ascent, but crossing my several turqoise ponds and all with the lightly falling snow. The last bit of the trail before the pass, nearing the 4,750 meter (15,200 feet) mark was the most challenging. I constantly chewed my coca leaves and everytime I sucked in the juice it was like a big burst of energy. I crept along at a slow pace. Every time that I stopped, my legs felt like rubber. The switchbacks continued. Occasionally a group of people or donkeys passed us going downhill. Dave decided he would stop to rest every ten minutes. I just wanted to get to the top. It was so gratifying to end up beating him to the top. The last part of the trail leading up to the pass was the most sinuous, a stone staircase crossing back and forth, steep and with tall steps.

I arrived to the pass, threw down my bag and looked at the views on either side, first down over the valley that I had just hiked up...the lakes and glacierous mountains looming over all. I turned to see more glaciers, also crowned with clouds, but in parts glistening in the sun. As I looked closer, I could follow the little melting paths that led down into another jaded turquoiselake, Towards the left, more valleys with mountain ridges cutting in from either side and yet another turquoise lake far in the distance. Above it rose another mountain with glaciers, even taller and more majestic than the others. In the distance was blue sky with several puff of white clouds.

Dave arrived about ten minutes later and taught me all the words for ``exhausted`` in Australian. The only one I remember is ´´buggered.``

The hike down was surprisingly hard, as all my muscles were already tired and my back sore from the load of the backpack. When the campsite finally appearred, it seemed tiny in the distance. We went down 500 meters in one hour after having gone up 900 meters in four hours. The scenery was just as amazing in the arrival to the campsite...new horizons constantly opened with views that streched even father towards the infinite. A man on a horse lead his cattle down the valley, greeting me as he passed. I continued over a river and wherever the water did not form rapids, it sat in emerald pools.

Now we are camped next to a river, surrounded by five peaks all with glaciers and snow. It is beyond impressive. I am drinking hot maca with powdered milk and sugar, in a feeble attempt to recharge. The sky behind the mountains is gradually changing colors, an orange in the lowest spots fading to purple and indigo above the peaks. The clouds are still reflecting some sun underneath, but their tops are already in the shadows. There is a crisp wind. I am dressed to the max- pants, jeans, leg warmers, a long and short sleeve shirt, a fleece, a wool sweater, my trusty vest, hat, scarf and gloves. I look forward to being warm in my sleeping bag tonight.

I moon is half full and directly above me. I can already see the first star in the indigo part of the sky whose colors are become more intense by the second. The light is quickly fading and I must close.

June 22, 2007

Here I am at camp at 3,700 meters when I thought that I would be at 5,000. Today we woke up at 7:00 to try to be hiking by 9:00. We were planning on a very long and difficult day. Upon leaving camp, it was drizzling and cloudy. None of the peaks that we saw last night under the moon and stars were visible anymore. We started hiking and when we arrived at the junction of another valley we saw what looked like a shortcut to the Alpamayo base camp, one that cut straight across the mountain instead of descending down into the valley only to return ascending. The shortcut trail was still uphill, but at least was a gentle path. Soon we were able to see the lowest glaciers of Alpamayo, the rest being covered by the clouds. As we hiked closer, the valley opened up and there were bunches of quenoa trees on one side. We saw a camp not far in the distance. I asked a guide who was sitting with two hikers next to a large rock. He said that I was looking at the Alpamay base camp and that the next camp beyond it is only accessible with full gear including crampons and ice axes. So what we had thought would take us six hours only ended up taking us an hour and a half and it was still early!

to be continued...

Arrival in Huaraz!

I left Lima at 10 o´clock last night on a bus (it was called Z Buss, hahaha) to Huaraz. I lucked out, the only empty seat on the bus was next to mine, so the cello had plenty of room. The ride was pretty cold, but I slept almost the whole way...other than when the baby in the seat behind me cried incessantly for a good hour. When I was still at the bus station, I met an Australian guy who was also heading to Huaraz. He happened to have the seat across the aisle from me. When we arrived in Huaraz, we sat in the bus terminal until the sun came out and then a guy came up to us offering us a hotel room for a good price with hot water, so we followed him. The hotel was close to the plaza and clean, and we were plenty tired so we decided to stay. At the bus terminal we made plans to take a 6 day backpacking trip in the mountains around here. There is a hiking circuit in the Huascaran National Park. I am pretty excited. From the city itself you can see the snow'capped peaks in all directions!

After I slept for a few hours, I started walking towards the market to find some breakfast. I ended up drinking an emoliente. Emoliente is a hot drink that involves a couple things. First they cook down linhasa seeds for a long time until it makes a slimy substance and then they filter out the seeds. Then they boil a huge thing of water with pieces of pineapple, red and green apples. Then they mix those two together with whatever combination of extracts that you ask for...alfalfa, cat´s claw, mint, lime, sangre de grado...I usually get a good shot of alfalfa so mine ends up really green. I´ve had a cough the past two days so I asked them to make me one for my symptoms. The woman pulled out a couple of little bottles and put some mysterious liquids in it. The only thing I could identify was eucalyptus, but the overall drink seemed to help a lot. That costs all of 30 cents. Then I walked towards the market and there was a woman selling tortilla sandwiches. Tortillas in Peru are kind of like thin omelettes with just one egg and lots of veggies. The sandwich costs 15 cents.

With that, I continued my mission to find coca leaves. I found coca leaves, but the people didn´t have the little ball of gypsum that you need to get the real effect. In Cuzco, they sell you a little ball that looks like hash and you break off a little piece with your nail and stick it in the middle of the leaves. I asked the people in the store and they told me where to find it. When I went where they told me, all I found was a store that looked like it sold cement. I asked if they had gypsum anyways and the woman pulled out a bag of white powder called cal. I think it is lime. She said that you take a toothpick, stick it into the wad of coca leaves that you have in your mouth, to get it wet, then stick it into the bag of cal to get a little bit, and then wipe it on your tongue. For some reason, I think that this whole cal process might leave holes in your mouth. When I asked her if it was bad for you, she told me that the gypsum is way worse. Finally, she told me that people also put cal around their plants to keep the bugs away. Something tells me that this can´t be a good idea!!! I am going to continue to ask around with the natives. I will write again after my trip in the mountains!

Yo-Yo Ma in Lima

Yesterday was the big day. I came to Lima with the goal of getting into the Yo-Yo Ma recital. Unfortunately, tickets were 80 dollars and sold out!!! I went to San Isidro (the neighborhood where the recital was going to be) in the afternoon with Guille and Jose. The area looked like an expensive neighborhood in the United States, with big apartment buildings and fancy houses. We waited outside hoping for someone who had an extra ticket, but there were no extras. The recital started and Guille and Jose left. I decided to stick around with another five people, including the french hornist of the Sinfonica Nacional and a documentary film producer, with hopes that they might let us in at intermission. At intermission, the producer came out and let us all in, two people with seats and the other four standing up. Since I had been waiting the longest, I got one of the tickets. It was in the 20th row, but I was thrilled. Yo-Yo Ma was playing with the pianist Kathryn Stott. The first piece was by a Brazilian composer, Carneiro, and was called Bodas de Prata e Quatro Canto. After, they played a sonata by Cesar Franck that was originally for violin and piano. The sonata was a lot more impressive than the Brazilian piece. That was the end of the second half of the recital, but in the end they played two encores. I didn´t recognize either of them, but the second seemed to be Brazilian. In the end, it was a great recital and worth the trip to Lima and the wait outside.

More adventures around Cajamarca

After waking up yesterday, I went to the market for my usual green soup (yes, that is what they call it) and aloe extract. The mamacha makes the green soup by boiling potatoes and whole eggs in a huge pot of water. Then she gets a bowl, puts a big spoonful of blended herbs (parsley, basil, some other green herbs), a big slice of fresh cheese and then the broth with a bunch of potatoes. After I have my bowl of soup, I go out on the street where another mamacha prepares the aloe extract. She scrapes the inside of the aloe into a pitcher and mixes it with an herbal tea, honey and something similar to maple syrup that comes from a tree around here. Before I drink it, she always gives me a shot of this mysterious ´´medecine.´´Supposedly, it is good for your stomach. The best part about the aloe drink is that it is very slimy and if you try to take a sip and then pull the cup away from your mouth, there is a big slimy thing connecting your mouth to the cup. So, really, you just have to drink it all at once.

At 9:30 I met my friends Ever and Juan in the Plaza de Armas. We took a combi (a van) to the village of Otuzco, about half an hour away. The big attraction of Otuzco is the Ventanillas of Otuzco, which is supposedly an Incan cementary carved into a huge stone cliff. In order to not have to pay, we walked down the road for a while until we saw a trail that went up the mountain. We hiked up the trail and around a few houses until we arrived to the top of the ventanillas. There were a few women there selling fossils that they found in the surrounding mountains. We each bought some fossils and then found a place with less cacti to be able to jump the stone wall around the park. The ventanillas are pretty cool, it didn´t take very long to see them all and then we sat down to eat some fruit. Not more than five minutes later, a guard showed up who asked us for our tickets. It was all very comical; he kept getting so upset that he wouldn´t stop talking. Finally, we just picked up our bags and walked out.

Ever remembered going to a tunnel somewhere in the mountains around the ventanillas three years ago so we set off on an adventure to find the tunnel. We started hiking through farms, fields and on little trails asking people around the way. It was a very rural area, with the houses being pretty spread apart. There are a lot of different kinds of cactus including one that grows a fruit called tuna. The fruit has needles too so we used leaves or pieces of cane to grab them and then rolled them in the grass to get the needles off. Then you break them open in the middle and eat the fruit and seeds. We also picked these little purple berries that were growing all over the place. There were a ton of colorful flowers everywhere, including some that they call elf´s slippers. One of the flowers has a bunch of little pokers in the middle and if you throw them at someone, they stick on their clothes or in their hair. We had wars with them the whole time.

It took us a long time to find the tunnel since we didn´t really have much of an idea where it was. The best part was just wandering around, especially when we walked through the wheat fields. With the sun and wind hitting them, it looked like a scene from a movie. The tunnel was on the side of a mountain and was just big enough to enter crouched over. We didn´t have a flashlight or candle, just a lighter, so we tried to guide ourselves mostly using the walls of the tunnel. After about 20 feet it was tall enough to stand up and we continued another 80 feet until we finally reached the end. It was a little creepy the farther back we got. You just don´t know what might be back there, or when you will find the end, or if there is going to be a huge drop-off. In the area around the tunnel there were tons of pieces of broken pottery, probably Incan, that were left after people had dug holes looking for something else. I think that this was the part where the cementary really way, and that the ventanillas are really more decorative, but that is just my theory.

On our way back, we decided to test the theory about rubbing a pig´s belly, which is supposed to make them fall asleep. It was hilarious, they lay down right away and start snoring. We also stopped to get fresh cornstalks that a campesino was cutting down. You can bite and pull off the outside part and chew on the inside stalk just like sugar cane. It is really sweeet and then you just spit out the chewed up stalk. All this time growing up in Ohio with all the corn we have, I should have known!

We hiked back down to the village of Otuzco, where we tried to find a place to drink chicha. Unfortunately, no one in the village makes chicha anymore, so we bought a few beers and went to the riverside to drink them. There is a suspension bridge to cross the river and it was full of a bunch of kids who were making it swing back and forth. We had to burn dry eucalyptus leaves to keep the mosquitos away and sat there until the sun set. Back in Cajamarca we ate dinner at "luka-china." Luka is slang for one sol and china for fifty cents of a sol. One and a half sols is equal to about 50 cents, and thats how much dinner costs- soup, main course and tea.

This morning I woke up early and went back to the village of Banos del Inca, to actually go into the thermal baths. This is the place where the Inca Atahuallpa supposedly bathed. There are a lot of hot springs that come up, and the Incans constructed pools that the water fed into. These baths are actually too hot to even touch and you can see the steam rising from them from far away. Since those days, they have contructed pools and bath houses (little rooms with bathtubs where you can open spickets with different temperatures of spring water). The idea of sitting in a bathtub kind of weirded me out, so I opted for the big pool. It ended up being a lap pool with hot spring water!! I was there early in the morning and there were probably 10 people swimming laps lengthwise in what we would consider 4 lanes, and then 3 or 4 who were swimming laps in the opposite direction when the space opened up. It was hilarious, no one swam in straight lines; they were all over the place! I swam for about an hour until the reflection of the sun on the water started to get really annoying and when I got out, I was super relaxed.

In the evening, I hung out with some friends drinking vino de sauco, wine made of the sauco fruit. We drank on the staircase that goes to Santa Apolonia church. It is one of the most unique staircases that I have ever seen and has lots of trees and plants lining it. Curiously, after hanging out a few hours, we realized we were sitting under a sauco tree. Funny the way things work out sometimes!

Up to the mountains

After a couple cloudy weeks on the coast, I decided to head up to the mountains, where there is always sun. I travelled on a bus by night to a city called Cajamarca. This was another important city for the Incas and looks a lot like Cuzco, without the swarms of tourists. There is a huge Plaza de Armas with two big churches, a lot of really old colonial architecture and cobblestone streets. There are also some really cool pedestrian walkways lined with colorful gardens and really different staircases. I arrived at 5 in the morning and had a hard time finding a hotel because it was the beginning of the Corpus Christi festivities. After I slept for a while, I walked around the town and met some new friends in the plaza. I met a couple artists, some locals and a french guy who is travelling the route of the chasquis (the Incan message runners) from Columbia to Chile entirely by foot, accompanied by a llama. We partied in the evening, going to a video bar until they started playing bad karaoke.

Friday, my friend Roy and I walked up the mountain to Cumbe Mayo. It took us 2 and a half hours to make it to the top, including a couple of rides that we hitched in a station wagon and in a big truck that was carrying bricks to the next village. On the way we also visited the ruins of Layzon, which tourists would never be able to find because they are in the middle of no where. There were not very well taken care of, but there were a few walls and tunnels. Where we got out of the truck, there were amazing views of these huge rock formations that they call Friars. We hiked up and around them and had lunch up on top with an amazing view of all of the surrounding mountains.

We then hiked around to the Cumbe Mayo itself (Cumbe Mayo means thin river in Quechua), except we took the opposite route that most tourists take. The place is called Cumbe Mayo because of the Incan canals that are cut through the stone and are all around the valley. There are also a couple places where there are geometrical inscriptions on the stones. We spent the whole day hiking around and then came left from the place where most people go in. There was a guard there, who told us we had to pay for the entrace fee. We told him that we did not have any money and gave him some apples and mandarines that were left over from our picnic. That seemed to appease him, thankfully!

Yesterday, Roy and I went a village called Llacanora where there is a river with three cool waterfalls. The first one was the tallest, probably 80 feet tall. The second one was small, but the sin was hitting it which made it nice. The third one was about 30 feet tall, but was really cool because the part where the waterfalls is like a stone room, almost entirely closed in. We went swimming in all three of the ponds and put our heads under the falling water, but it was FREEZING!!! It took a while to warm back up in the sun and then we started walking again through the mountains.

After about an hour of walking we made it to a cave called Callacpuma (mouth of the puma). The cave itself is huge, with a couple of passage ways that are probably pretty deep but we did not have any flashlights or a lighter to explore. There was a group of local people there who were trying to catch live bats. When I asked them why, they said they needed two live bats to use their blood to make a medecine for a heart problem of someone in their family. In the end, they ended up catching two bats, a mother and its baby, who was nursing. In the process of catching them, the mother died, and the baby still held on. It was pretty interesting to watch the whole scene. They were using blankets and were all covered in bat guano from the walls of the cave.

After we made it back to the road, we were in a town called Banos del Inca, where there are thermal springs. There was an Incan head carved out of stone that shoots out really really hot water. We washed our hands and ate ceviche with frito (seasoned and cooked potatoes).

Soon I will be leaving here and heading into the Amazon province. I am going to try to keep posting on a more regular basis so check back soon for updates!!

Back to the other side of the equator

It has been a little over two weeks now that I have been back in Peru and things are as crazy as usual. When I arrived at the airport, I was expecting a couple of my friends to be there waiting for me, but I couldn´t find any of them. I walked around a while, and then started to make phone calls. First I called Mauricio, my buddy who I hadn´t seen in six years. He was home in bed, sick. Then I tried to call Guille, another friend from six years ago...no answer. Meanwhile, this Israeli guy, Alon, comes up to me and asks if I am going to take a taxi somewhere and if he can go in the same taxi. Here, his bags were lost, his friends were on a flight that was delayed until the next day, and he had no where to go. I said sure, but that I wanted to wait a little longer for my friends to show up. Twenty minutes or so went by, and there appears Jose (a friend from last year), Guille and Angela (Guille´s girlfriend from Belgium). They invited Alon to stay at their house, since Guille´s mom, sister and nieces all moved out and there was lots of space. We all jumped in a taxi, went back to the house and sat around talking, eating canchita, and drinking a bottle of whiskey. I think it was a pretty crazy first night in South America for Alon!!!

I stayed in Lima for a week, visiting some friends in the neighborhood and hanging out with Mauricio. We celebrated Angela´s birthday with a huge amount of ceviche and beer. Ceviche is one of the best Peruvian plates- raw fish, onions, garlic, hot peppers, lots of lime, cilantro and parsley. Then we decided to go to the beach to get some sun. Jose, Guille, Angela and I took a bus 8 hours to the north to Trujillo, a big city and then a taxi to Huanchaco.

Huanchaco is a little fishing village where surf originated. The people since the times of the Mochica Indians...something B.C., made reed rafts the have really pointy fronts and that they kneel on the back of. The boats break through the waves or surf on them, and the fishermen use a huge bamboo oar. Needless to say we ate a lot of seafood during the week there!! It was really cloudy most of the time and cold, so we only went swimming once and it wasn´t for very long! It was nice to relax and be somewhere quiet. The hotel we stayed at was beachfront and had some really nice gardens and trees, as well as a kitchen that we could use (only because we were the only people there!).

One day we walked along the beach to sneak into Chan Chan the back ways. It was an hour and a half walk and really windy. Before we made it to the ruins, crossing the desert, we crossed a group of workers and archeologists. There we recontructing fish farms that the Incans had used. Some of them would have fish, others, lobsters, shrimp, etc. The Incans had created a system that carried the water out from under the Chan Chan temples and into the fish farms and their surround crops. This is the water that was filling the stone ponds. In the process of recontructing, they came across more ruins, of the actual canals that carried the water (within the last two weeks). They were really excited to tell us about their work, and then took us to one of the temples where more archeologists are working. In the end we got a guided tour of all of the parts of Chan Chan that are not open to the public.

Chan Chan was constructed by the Chimu culture entirely of adobe. There are a lot of temples, plazas, and really amazing relief designs. There are walls surrounding all of the temples that are between 12 and 16 feet wide. The Chimu were eventually conquered by the Incans in the 1400s.

Another day we went to the ruins Huaca de la Luna and Huaca del Sol. There were a bit farther away and belong to a different culture, that of the Moche people. The Huaca de Sol is closed off because of raiders, but we got to walk around in the Huaca de la Luna. It served mainly as a ceremonial site, where the people would prepare and make offerings. Every 80 or 100 years they would fill in the existing contruction with adobe bricks and build a new construction on top. It was possible to see 5 different layers, walking around. The Moche people also used a lot of mineral paints to decorate the Huaca. Mostly, there were animal and geometrical designs. It was in remarkably good shape considering its location in the desert.

Afterwards we stoped in the village called Moche to drink Chica. Chicha is a fermented corn drink that has been passed down since the days of the Incas. Chicha is a lot different in the north than the chicha that I have drank in Cuzco and in the south. It is a little sweeter and not so heavy. We drank two pitchers (with cost all of 50 cents a piece) and all felt fine until we stood up and realized we were all pretty trashed. It was funny. The chicharia was at a womans house who had the usual chickens and hens running around and the newest batch of chicha boiling in a 50 gallon drum over a wood fire.