Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Lima

I am still enjoying Lima. It's colder and friskier now than when I was here four months ago. I am roaming the city by buses, small and big, different colors and makes. I went to the Turkish baths and the Museo del Arte and the many churches I haven't visited before.

I am not going to come to NY for Emese's and Kura's wedding. The ticket prices are very expensive and it seems it's impossible to get any last minute tickets in this part of the world. My thoughts and my heart will be with the novios and all the guests on that day but my body will have to remain in South America. I decided that I will go north in a few days. It would be better to stay in one place during the high season but I think north of Peru is not as popular with tourists as the south so it should be fine. The raugh plan is to travel north and then west as far as Mexico and then to California and from there maybe to India as I first planned. The plan is a rough plan - things may pop up along the way that will change the course.

Yesterday I watched Michael Moore's Bowling for Columbine. What a really good movie that is. I totally agree with MM that it all comes down to politicians and how they can effect the general atmosphere of a country. I know all the places MM went to - Detroit, Flynt and Troy in Michigan and Windsor in Canada - I feel I can really relate to what he wants to say in the movie. I like how he exposes the narowmindedness of politicians and people like Charlton Heston (who in the end leave the interview because they cannot defend their silly and selfish point of view). During my travels I have been thinking a lot about politics and how it really affects mankind. More on this when I come back to the internet place.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Colca Canyon

I spent two days in the Colca Valley and got a glimpse of the Colca Canyon. The canyon is twice as deep as the Grand Canyon. I was thinking whether to go down to the canyon but I barely recovered from that virus which stuck to me and didn't feel the strength to go on such a strenous hike... I got a two-day tour to see the valley, the villages along it, the canyon from the top and the condors. We set out early in the morning on Monday and were basically on the bus most of the day. The scenery resembled that of the Atacama desert: dry mountainous land with vicunas and llamas roaming around. We reached the town of Chivay at 5 pm and had dinner there. Later we went to hot springs and enjoyed it very much. I met really nice people on that trip, I especially enjoyed talking to the middle-aged couple from Italy Wanda and Pierro. We shared a lot of laughs. It's amazing that even though they didn't speak Spanish and I don't speak Italian we understood each other, i.e. I understood when they spoke Italian to me. I also can understand Portuguese if a person speaks slowly. The langauges are indeed similar in some way. We stayed in the pool and sauna for a long time and afterwards had supper at a restaurant with wonderful folk singing and dancing. I got the CD of the folk group to remember Chivay. We were also dancing and it left me breathless as in other places at the altitude of above 3,000 meters above the sea level. While I was walking around the main square getting some more hand-knitted socks I noticed many donkeys coming with wood and sticks on their backs. It turned out that many campesinos - farmers - came to the town for a yearly fiesta and brought sticks as the offering. All night long different people performed on the stage in front of the muncipial building. The whole town and people from villages around were celebrating the fiesta. There were tiny stands selling juices, food, mate de coca and home-made alcoholic drink chicha. The wood was burning in a few campfires and people were standing close to them to warm up - it's very cold at night on the desert. To see the condors next morning we woke up at 5:30 and collected at the main square from different hostals we were assigned to at 6:00 and we saw the last campfires being extiguished and people going home to rest. It took us another two hours to get to the Condor Cross - the place from which condors can be seen. Before we reached it we passed through a few little villages. Some of them were badly destroyed by eruptions of volcanoes or earthquakes and consisted of the old rumbled part and the new. The Aymarans and Quechuans who live there cultivate land and get some extra money from tourism. We learned that a month ago they went on strike as they don't get any cut from the fee collected by the government to view the national park around the canyon - it all goes to Arequipa and Lima. Similar protests where held in the Sacred Vally. When we got to the Condor Cross we could immediately see the condors flying over the canyon. We were standing at a point above 3,000 meters above sea level. I was amazed by condors and understand why they are considered sacred birds. They are very big, they stand over 1 meter tall and the spread of their wings is over 3 meters. Some were just gliding below us in the canyon and some were coming close to where we were standing and looked at us very curiously. It's amazing with what clarity they look at people, how they turn their heads towards every movement. One of them glided above me and hung right above my head for what seemed like eternity but what really was probably 5 or 7 seconds. I couldn't believe it... There was a silent contact established between us... Looking into certain animals' eyes is like looking into a different dimension, beyond the one we experience every day. The sea lions and the condors looked at me they way the Shaman looked at me. It's communication beyond words... We were later walking along the canyon (and seeing the condors flying at about half-height of the canyon - tiny specks from where we were standing - gave me an idea of how deep the canyon really is) and the condors followed us. I loved seeing them so free, flying over this vast vast land. The guide told us that they live to the age of about 60-70 years and they reach maturity at about 7-8 years of age. They pair up for life and each couple has one baby condor every two years.

I made a full circle and came back to Lima. I am going to think what to do next and where to go. Maybe I will stay in Lima for a while. I will rest here and then I will decide... If I can get a cheap cheap flight to NY I will come for a few days for Emese's and Kura's wedding in July. I will look around for a ticket today. But then I would like to come back here. I think I would like to go the Central America but I don't have any definite plan yet.

I enjoyed all the countries and all the places I visited. There was not one place not worth the visit. Every place has it's own story and its own atmosphere. I will write more about my general impressions and also what I learned about the indigenous people soon.

Saturday, June 18, 2005

Cuerpos Pintados

www.cuerpospintados.com

Here's the website of the amazing exhibition I saw in Arica.

Arequipa

Earlier today I wrote a lot about Santa Catalina Convent but I am afraid all is lost because the internet connection was lost before I ended the session. So I will recreate what I wrote in case the earlier text will never appear.

I got to Arequipa yesterday evening and there was some kind of student festival and there were many groups of young people singing, dancing, and playing music. The group of doctores to be was amazing. I stayed on the main plaza until midnight. Today I woke up early and decided to head straight to Santa Catalina Convent as it was advertised in the guidebook as the most remarkable place to visit in Arequipa. Here's the website: www.santacatalina.org.pe I stayed there most of the day. It is a city within a city, full of cobblestoned streets, plazas, nuns' apartments, steps leading to tarrases. All the buildings are made of silla - a white porous volcanic rock - which is mostly painted ochra and bright blue. Judging from the "apartments", the kitchens, bathrooms and the indoor pool, the sisters lived a very comfortable life there. At one point there were 450 of them (now there are 30 living in part of the convent closed to visitors). One of the archbishops of Arequipa called the convent the "Women's Tower of Babel." They were declaring chastity, poverty and obedience. Maybe they lived a chaste (they lived in total seclusion, their only connection with the outside world being through small revolving windows close to the entrance) and obedient life but definitely not a poor life. They all brought to the convent hefty dowries. They were also renting out the properties they possessed. They owned servants and slave girls. When the times were raugh, during wars or natural diseasters, and they couldn't collect the rent, they would sell or barter their slaves. I read all the history in the little museum. Very interesting... I also read the statement written by the present 30 nuns in which they say they pray for the salvation of the world. They spent most of the time praying and meditating, and some baking cakes for the cafe in the monastery and making souvenirs for sale (they also get a cut from the visitor's fee) , totally cut off from the outside world, its mysery, poverty and suffering. I would say that this is exactly what people in San Pedro de Atacama do except the Atacamenans don't claim they are saving the world. Architecturally the convent is exquisitely beautiful but spiritually it's a very fake place, as fake as San Marcos on Lake Atitlan in Guatemala. San Pedro is very much alive; it's very down to earth. I love down to earth places, places where forced fake social rules don't exist, where people laugh loudly and when they do they snort, spit saliva and klap their hands, they are laughing so heartily... that's life, life in the purest form. Kids run around, grandpas sit in front of their houses reliving the past and getting ready to depart, young people kiss and hug whenever they feel like kissing and hugging, dogs play and fight and chase the fleas and everybody celebrates the Saturday fiesta until dawn. Everything is as it should be, natural. There's time to be young, to be mothers and fathers, to be old, to get wrinkles and rheumatism, and to die. Really, no big deal. Maybe the world needs convents and nuns to be saved but I would say it needs more small communites like St. Pedro the Atacama.

Friday, June 17, 2005

Arica and Tacna

Yesterday I spend the day in Arica still on the Chilean side. It's a small town - another town on the desert between the coast and sand dunes. In the center there's a church designed by Eiffel and it does resemble the Eiffel tower in Paris. I first went to the Fisherman's Wharf and saw more fish markets and more sea lions. This group of sea lions was a very playful one. They constantly played like dogs. The water was boiling with their turns and dives. And they were bigger than the ones I saw in Quitambo near La Serena. There was also a little tiny kitten there and I left him with a broken heart, he was so little and with no mom around. But the fishermen told me they would take care of him. He did look fat so there's a big chance he will survive. I walked around the center and there was also a very good art exhibition on the main street of photographs of painted bodies. I think it was called pintadas cuerpos or something like that. There was a website ending in .com so I will look for it. In the evening I got a collectivo taxi to get me to the border. When I got there it turned out Peruvians "closed" 5 km of the Pan American highway in protest of closing a dock at the Chilean port which was used for direct commerce between Peru and Chile. There were big stones and wire on the highway. Together with all other people on the border I walked toward the Peruvian side and right after the border control I got a taxi which for a steep price agreed to take me to Tacna. Otherwise I would have to walk 30 km. It wouldn't be so bad if my backpack was not so heavy - I carry now all the summer, spring, fall and Patagonian winter clothing. The taxi driver got five more people and extremally squeezed we set off on a very bumpy desert road - other route. When we got back to the highway there was a huge line of trucks and buses waiting for the end of the protest. There are also many roadblocks in Bolivia right now - I met many people who were stuck in La Paz for over a week. It seems it's a time of political, and earthly, turmoil. More on political turmoil soon. I have to run to catch a bus to Arequipa. Hugs to everyone.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Iquique

Iquique is a nice city on the coast. It has beautiful beaches and the old part of the city is very nice, old-port looking. People are recovering from the shock of the earthquake. The water was restored today morning but not enough to shower, just to brush teeth and use the bathroom. I could feel the earth moving lying on the beach in the morning so it probably is not over yet. If the connection to Arica is restored (the bridge got damaged and the buses were not permitted on it) I will go there tonight.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Calama

I am waiting for the bus to Iquique in Calama - a city two hours away from St. Pedro de Atacama and four hours from Iquique. It's much bigger than St. Pedro. I already miss that village. During the three days spent there I feel that I made friends with half of the people and started feeling part of the family. One of the agencies needed a person for guiding the cabalgadas - horseback riding in the mountains - and I would accept that position for a few months if the climate was not so dry. I have experience and I feel the horses are happy here, walking most of the day untied to anything and enjoying themselves doing that and walking in the mountains with people as well. I think they see it as their job. But the dryness makes my skin itch and peel. I talked to Atacamenans about it and it seems the texture of their skin is so much better adjusted to coping with the dry climate. Mine is just not fit to it. I really regret. The longer I travel the more I feel I would like to live in a very tiny town. I wonder if I will progress into that direction... if in the end I will be happy to settle in a place as small as St. Pedro or if I will need a city with theaters etc. I am waiting for what I really want to cristalize. I asked people in St. Pedro if they really like the fact that they know everybody who lives there and they said yes, very much. It's because there's no gossip, people are not jelous of each other's businesses, they don't have to "advance" into anything, they don't need more than what they already have. The people who own the little restaurant shacks on the outskirts and the people who own "touristy" restaurants in the center of the village live in the same type of adobe houses. It must sound idyllic and I think it really is. Some of the newcomers told me they came to live there for a short time and they just stayed and made it their home. Some came for vacation and just stayed...

Yesterday there was a rather strong earthquake in Iquique and it caused the death of 8 people but the busses are running to Iquique so I am going there because there's really no other way to go to Peru from here. I will write from Iquique.

Monday, June 13, 2005

San Pedro de Atacama

It is a small village in the middle of the Atacama desert. The bus left me and the rest of the tourist in the middle of a dusty road (there's no bus station here). At first it looked like a very hostile environment to live in: dry, hot and dusty, not many trees or other vegetation. All houses are made of adobe bricks. It is the seat of the Atacama culture and most of the people who live here are Atacamenans. Others are the people who wanted to run from it all and established galleries, cafes and travel agencies. The village lives mainly off tourism: there are volcanoes here, gasers, salt flats and the desert - Valley of the Moon. It's possible to do mountain biking and sandboarding. It is a very peaceful place. I went to the gaysers the first day of my stay and to the Moon Vally the second day. To see the gaysers in full beauty we left the hostal Florida at 4 am. There's a kitten in the hostal who looks like the King so I named him Elvis (but it turned out it is a she so she is Elvisa). Elvisa still misses her mom, she is so young, and was crying in the night so I took her with me to my bed, zipped us up in my sleeping bag and we slept until 3:45 am. She was sleeping so soundly that I left her in the room and hoped she would meow to be let out if she wanted to pee. We got to the volcano (above 4,000 meters) at dawn and could see the clouds of steam coming from the ground. There were also pools of boiling water. It was minus 12 degrees Celsius but it was so amazing that we walked and walked among the gasers until our noses were ready to drop off. After that we went to a natural termal outside pool but I only dipped my feet since the virus is not gone entirely. We came back at noon and I was opening the door to my room thinking whether I will find it shredded to pieces and Elvisa swinging violently on the lamp due to separation anxiety... But when I came in she just woke up with an expression on her face saying "Where am I?" She yawned, streached out her legs, did a cat pose, a cobra pose, and other yoga poses and was ready for breakfast. We had yogurt. The Valley of the Moon is desert, rock formations and dunes. Very nice. We stayed on top of one of the hills to see the sunset and the changing colors on the dunes and rocks. I met nice people at the hostal and also took part of the Saturday fiesta of one indigenous family. These people and their peaceful way of life is unbelievable... Today I went to the little market on the outskirts of the village with lots of new and used things on sale and tiny kitchens where women cook delicious local food. I like the markets because markets represent Life. Everything happens there. People sell things but at the same time they eat their dinner, breastfeed their babies, sing, dance, dogs wait patiently for remainings and sit at tables of the tiny shacks-restaurants. There are clouds of dust swirling around, covering everything including the food. Yesterday evening there was a violent desert storm. Frightened dogs were hiding in stores and cafes and people were hiding inside homes, hostals and cafes. I was enchented with the atmosphere of the village fogged with sand and walked the deserted streets.The sand got everywhere: inside my clothes and into my eyes and ears.

I am going to Iquique in the evening. There are not many places with internet in St. Pedro and the connection is very slow. I will respond to individual e-mails when I get to a bigger place.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

La Serena

Yesterday I came to La Serena. I stayed in a colonial house of someone who offered me a room at the bus station. I think it's the usual practice here. The family was very nice, the house was old and musky... with lot's of antigues and a grand dining room. After breakfast I cought a bus going to a neighboring port town. It's one of these places which are not in guidebooks and I only went there because the family recommended it. I loved it. I went to the fish market and immediately everyone started coming to me and saying in a conspirational whisper "loco." Loco... LOco... LOCO... Necessito loco? shhhh... At first I thought they were telling me they were all crazy (loco means crazy) (Don't worry, dear. I am crazy myself. It's not such a very terrible thing.) or that the city was crazy (Oh, really? I haven't noticed... not more than any other place...) or that I was crazy (You think so? That is hightly possible...) until I got the courage and asked "Que es loco?" and one of the fisherman showed me something that was a marine creature but it would be hard to tell of what kind. I said no thank you, I have no place to cook it. There must be some ban on fishing it, otherwise why the conspiracy? I will ask the family when I get back to their house. I got to the end of the market and saw some people feeding the sea lions! There is a colony of sea lions on some rocks near the beach and since they are not harmed by humans in any way they come to the port for easy breakast. There were seven of them. They were swimming around, looking at us, getting the scraps of fish and when they got full they gracefully left, without any hurry, swimming together, having fun (sometimes they were swimming on their backs, exposing their yellow teeth as if they were smilling). They are unbelievable creatures. When they were gone the pelicanos came for their share of the remainings. The fish market feeds many creatures. Cats are also waiting for their lunch in big numbers but they are picky - they know what they like best and wait only for that. After I tore myself from the port and wished the fishermen good day, I went to explore the city, got a delicious fish lunch, and went to La Serena to explore the town, the museum of archeology and then I walked to the beach where I met friendly dogs who ate my leftover lunch which I scrupulously always have with me in case a hungry dog shows up. I also took a nap on the beach - there's nothing better than falling asleep to the tune of the waves coming to the shore... I am going to run now to catch a bus to San Pedro. 18 hours non-stop. I will respond to all wonderful individual e-mails from San Pedro. Much love to all.

Monday, June 06, 2005

Valparaiso

The road from Mendoza to Santiago was very beautiful. It went along the Aconcagua valley. The bus was going through snowed mountains, very slowly. At one point we were going down the hill in a zig-zag fashion. The view of the zig-zag was amazing. The famous zig-zag in San Francisco is nothing in comparison to that one.

I stayed in Santiago only one day. The city resembles Buenos Aires in architecture but has none of its charm and liveliness. Santiago seemed to me rather gloomy and sad. It looked neglected and dirty. Chile is the richest country in South America but this doesn't show in the standard of living. There are no cozy cafes, only fast food places and lots of McDonald's. I walked around the center and took a few buses to go around the city. I visited the cathedral which I didn't find impressive and the museum of precolumbian art which was very nice. It housed a temporary exibition entitled "The gold of Columbia" and the artefacts were very interesting. And so was the text accompanying the artefacts. It mostly had to do with shamanism of the tribes which lived (and some still live) in the present day Columbia. It talked about the tribal believes that man, animals, plants and spirits create the world in equal parts and pass from one being to another. The masks of pumas and other animals the shamans wear mark their temporary "change of skin" and transformation into another being. The change of skin represents a change, one of the many changes a being goes through during its lifetime (and lifetime means many lifes). I talked about the exhibition with the owner of the hostal in Valparaiso and he told me that in Yamana language there is no such thing as one word representing a certain object. For example "a tree" is represented by many words depending on a person's relationship to it such as a person's standing far from or near to the tree, underneath it, or if a person has climbed it, or sees it with leaves or not. In English I think we would have to say "aneartree" or "afartree", "atreeinsummer", "atreeinwinter", "atreeihaveclimed", etc. Isn't it amazing? They are the people who lived in caves and their only dress was the skin of vacuna in winter but they developed such amazing language which takes into consideration not only objects but also the relationship to it, the feeling one gets when experiencing it. I find more and more interesting what I learn about the indigenous cultures of South America. The exhibit included many details concerning shamanic rituals and indigeous cultures in general. It was the best part of Santiago. Otherwise it was gloomy... Chile is very expensive. The prices are NY prices. Coffee is $2. I think this makes Chileans gloomy - NY prices but low salaries. The hostal I stayed in in Santiago was $6 (the cheapest according to the guidebook) and it was very disgusting. The only reason I spent there the night was that I got sick again - some virus which totally knocked me out - and didn't have the strength to look for something else. It was by far the worst hostal I have ever seen. I like exposed brick and peeling paint but exposed cardboard and peeling wallpaper is ugly. Maggie if you think your bathroom is ugly you should see that one. You not only need flip-flops to get into the shower, you need an airproof suit like the one used by astronauts and Gene, I am sure you haven't seen such concentration of fungi as I saw in that bathroom. Fuj! It was a kind of place you wouldn't want to touch anything for fear you would get glued to it. A bus took me to Valparaiso. I asked a policeman how to get to Concepcion where hostal Luna Serena is. The policeman looked at me and asked "Are you travelling alone!? (Are you out of your mind??) This a very dangerous city, even in daylight." Hmmmm... But he told me where the bus was (I feel safer taking a bus than a taxi) and I strapped my backpack tightly to my body and got on the bus. The driver didn't know where the street was at which I wanted to get off. He left me at the top of the hill, in the center of the Concepcion district. I looked into the guidebook and didn't find on the map the street at which he dropped me. It was Sunday, there was nobody on the street, no cars, and no taxis... For the first time during my trip I missed my bed, delirious with fever I wanted to sit and cry. But that lasted a minute. I decided there were worst things in life than being lost in Valparaiso, even if it was "a very dangerous city". I decided to walk downhill and taking one random turn and another random turn down the narrow streets I found myself at the door of the hostal Luna Serena. When I was pressing the doorbell I thought that my guardian angel is a mighty angel. The hostal is in a beautiful old house and has beautiful aristic interior. I drank hectolitres of steaming tea and slept away the virus. I woke up in a much better shape today and went to tour the city. It is one of the most amazing cities I have ever seen. It is a functioning port (I saw the cranes skilfully moving the huge containers from cargo ships onto the trucks) so it must have the modern port equipment but the rest of the city looks as if time stopped in it 150 years ago. I read Isabel Allende's "Daugher of Fortune" in which she described the city. She described it as it looked over 100 years ago and it looks today excatly as she described it. The city is located on the hills surrounding the port. Down by the docks there's an area of banks and restaurants, up on the hills there are houses. The house area looks like one big shanty town. Little houses are built of brick, wood and tin. They are very poor looking but are all painted in most amazing bright colors. There are narrow winding streets and a few lifts going down to the port. Some streets are very clean, some have an amazing amount of garbage on them. Many houses are falling apart. There's loundry drying in all windows. The houses are right next to each other - there are no gardens of any type. It is a city where many artists live so among all this neglect and garbage there are beautiful grafitti on walls and other signs of artistic creativeness of the inhabitants. There's also an incredible amount of cats here. They are everywhere, sleeping in groups on windowsills, on tin roofs, in the parks, in the stores... They are all fat and happy looking. I walked around and rode on the buses around the city and my eyes were round as saucers with amazement. So far the two cities which are so amazingly different from all other cities are La Paz and Valparaiso. I don't even know how to properly describe them...

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Heading toward Santiago

I didn't go to the mountains because of the unaccesible roads. I don't want to stay here for the weather to get better because it is rather unpredictable. I hope to return one day during November-March season when it's possible to go to the high mountains every day. I spent the last few days with a very nice group of people I met at the hostal: Leslie and Caleb from Australia, Ilan from Israel, Femke and Jan from Holland and Jacob from Germany. We went to visit a beautiful and huge park in Mendoza and yesterday we just spent all day in the hot springs. Jacob asked me if there were any bikinis there when I went before and I said no, not really, it's out of season and very quiet. But just as we got there a group of about 30 girls who are on a school trip from Santa Fe came to the spring so there were in fact lots of bikins there! Jacob was in heaven, sitting in he sauna surrounded by a group of girls. The girls where really nice. They were all 17 years old and told us about their college plans and asked us about our travels. At the end we were all sitting in a small jacuzzi - it was crowded to the limits. Femke took a picture because it was unbelievable how many people could fit into that jacuzzi - it was like these competitions of who can fit more people into a Fiat 126p. I think we stayed in the jacuzzi for about 2 hours. We returned to the hostal pleasantly tired and enjoyed an evening of beer, wine, snacks and movies.

In an hour I am going to Santiago in Chile. I will be in touch from there. Besos.