COUNTRY: Peru
PROGRAM: GapBreak
PROJECT: Teaching & Building
WRITTEN BY: Ollie Lotz
Do you ever get the feeling that you`re just talking to yourself? Excuse me, this isn`t therapy. You`re here for the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help us all. Pity there`s never just one. Failing that, maybe you`re just here for the giggles. Well, I can`t help you. There was nothing amusing about our most recent fortnight...
Chaz did not utter the immortal line, ` I hate principles,` during a particularly stressful discussion over the price of promised guide services in Uyuni. Furthermore, Myles did not ponder out loud what it would be like to be a desert shrub, sparking a good 20 minutes of placing ourselves in the positions of inanimate objects that do not have shoes. Turns out water gets the best ride. Finally, Hector, our construction partner, does not wear an Ikea shirt that says `we`re not just good in beds...`
Because I like to see you squirm, the cliffhanger continues. At school we`re needing to get more creative, as we`ve gone through the art and sport plans that were immediately obvious and, while the kids may not be sick of them, there`s only so much drawing and bullrush we can take. Jane`s sent us a sports curriculum with plenty of example ideas which should prove useful, and we`re scouring the web and supplies stores for the new. We`ll see how it goes. In case you were wondering, the wall is nearly finished. We just need a few more layers of mud brick and the tiles. Fingers crossed, this week we`ll be seeing what`s in store for us next.
Amoebas were the offending ´cooties´ this fortnight, as both Myles and Penny fell ill somewhere in Bolivia and thought they`d keep Dr. Vic company when they returned. I`m sure it was appreciated. The time has come to mention Clemens, our German volunteer dj. Yes, I`m touched by his generosity too, helping the world one dance floor at a time. Maybe Peru´s solution is just a few groovy beats away. But seriously, he`s facilitated many a night out, become almost a fully fledged member of the group, and will join us for Machu Picchu, despite the original fears that he was a creeper. I`ll tell you how the initiation goes.
Where are my fun facts you ask? Well, as we all know black cat´s can cause you a bit of misfortune without much effort, but in Peru they´ve discovered the trick. If you eat a black cat you don´t have to worry about your luck AND you get healthier. This has made my spanish teacher, who happens to be the proud owner of such a cat, somewhat defensive. Secondly, South Americans have a mythological bird with feathers of silver and that eats gold. Because they are nocturnal, it´s said that full moons are prime hunting time, because of the reflections. Poachers follow them to find gold and try to kill them for what they´ve already eaten, as mobility is reduced somewhat by a belly full of metal. However, it´s not all high-fives and cocktails. These birds are smart, and even though they can´t always fly, they´re quite good at making human pancakes with cliffs.
Alright, alright, back to Bolivia. I´ll continue with the story of those who went to the salt flats straight away. The second day we were still together, and saw marshan terrain made of cooled lava, the Arbol de Piedra, which is a stone conveniently eroded to look quite convincingly like a tree, and flamingoes doing whatever it is that flamingoes do. Myles, being a linguistic genius, cracked the code and realised that the key to their language is using the word pink and a handful of gibberish in every sentence. We should have known. Our luxury suit was housed in a disheveled mud building by the Laguna Colorada. This is worth seeing for two attractions, the red colour of the water, and the salt formations on one part of the shore that´s officially been dubbed ´meringue.´
Our separation was a forced one at 2am. We, the seven committed to climbing a volcano, needed to leave in order to catch our guide. No show. Mild frustration. So we drove to the base of the volcano to confirm that he wasn´t there. There was, however, another group halfway up. In the manner that only Octavio, our driver, could muster, we were told to try and catch them. Nup. There was an asthma attack, quite a nice sunrise, spoiled only by the wonders we´d seen in the previous two days, and varying degrees of success with the ol´ blower. Building frustration. Myles, putting long legs and magic shoes to good use, got to the top incredibly quickly. Maybe 2 or 3 hours, hard to tell. We´d been told the peak hit 5800m, not bad for a birthday challenge. Jasper also made it with only mild hallucinations.
After the recovery phase they were both pretty happy with themselves, as you would be. Next up was a dip in thermal springs after a late breakfast by the Laguna Blanco (we saw a few unnaturally coloured lakes on that trip). The day was capped off by a quick look at some geysers spewing from bubbling pools of mud. Interesting, the photos are worth a look. Back to Laguna Colorada...
I´m not exactly sure what we did that next day. There was the drive back to Uyuni, I got that much, and the Valle de Rocas, which consisted of giant slabs of stone and small shrubs looking like wild west imitations, but there was something missing, something in the distorted shape of the Desierto De Salvador Dali. Ah well. We then followed the same itinerary as the six amigas that didn´t attempt the volcano, which was to La Paz. Except, that I slipped in a horse ride round Tupiza´s countryside, reknowned for canyons and dust that´d get Clint Eastwood all tingly.
On Friday we partook of the Peru vs Bolivia soccer match, with fickle Nyles going the wrong way. If you like soccer, and fans with some patriotism to vent, you would have fit right in. The two police officers for every step separating the rival fans didn´t. On Saturday we had the kind of adventure that´s best told to parents in hindsight with the precaution of a seated position. We mountain biked down the North San Yungas Road, affectionately known as ´Death Road´ for it´s gold medal among the world´s most dangerous. The bypass built five years ago has cut most traffic. The important detail is width. Our petite modes of transport are not nearly as subject to a long drop.
Still, they lose a few every now and then to unstable parts and speeding, well, more accurately, landing. Our Kiwi guide Mike´s favourite mortality is dubbed ´E.T. girl.´ This unfortunate Japanese tourist froze up, left firm ground, then resumed peddling until she came to an abrupt stop a few hundred metres closer to sea level. Apparently, we rode through 13 climate zones and some truly spectacular scenery before finishing in the semi-jungle town of Yolosa. We did the optional extra of three zip lines across the valleys for $25. I think we might be getting hard to please.
Sunday ran by local time, so it was relaxed, but we missed the Cholitas wrestling back in la Paz and found out that a night bus home was considerably hampered by a closed border. So be it, another night at Loki. The splinter cell used Monday to go to Copacabana, most having missed out on La Isla Del Sol, while we did some shopping and the appropriately named ´Urban Rush.´ This offers willing tourists, having signed their life away, to walk and jump perpendicularly down the side of a hotel from the 17th floor to I believe the 3rd. Think of an abseil gone wrong. Bolivia, you did it again. Amazing.
Now, let´s tie up some loose ends. Our splinter cell experienced Titicaca in much the same way as was related previously, minus the reed islands. The other 4 that went to Bolivia, but not the salt flats, visited La Paz first off, did Death Road, Tree house, back to La Paz, but got given bad directions and ended up in Arequipa. Funny. I´ll save the description of this city for next blog, as we´re visiting this weekend.
Finally, the three wild cards, Rachel, Ella, and Devika, spent their week in Ecuador. Rain was the feature to highlight. Their trip to the beach involved many more crepes than it may have otherwise. Next up was Quito, the capital. Sources described it as ´Massive,´ ´Sleazy,´ and ´Dangerous.´ But it can´t be that bad. I hear it has a McDonald´s.
Devika and Rachel took the opportunity to go to Banos for canyoning and ziplining. There´s photographic evidence that they abseiled through a waterfall. I´ve also been ordered to mention the Frenchman they saw in his natural habitat, note le suite du anniversaire. Ella was barred from this cultural experience by one of a traveller´s greatest dilemmas, budgeting.
For Ella´s birthday they visited Otavalo markets, renowned across South America. Rain. These three also tried to climb a volcano, but managed the 300 metre ascent to 4820m unanimously, then rode bikes down. Suspiciously similar. They also visited the equator, yes there was a line on the ground, but apparently falsely marked. Finally, the last thing to mention is the power of crying. Having been refused Brazilian visas twice for a lunch break and similar excuses, they decided to step it up a notch. Rachel brought out the waterworks and unnerved the official enough to get him to do his job. 4th time lucky.
What more is there? As you may expect, slight tension cracks emerge now and then from extended exposure to each other. A small group went to the Sunday markets at Pisaq again to sort out the remaining gifts. This is the part where you folks in Aus get excited. There really are some cool things here.
But what have we really achieved with our two months in Cusco? Well, by popular demand I´m unveiling the work to date of some pioneers among us in classifying the subtle differences within a specific type of traveller´s ailment. Fair warning, it´s going to get messy. A chank is a vomit, plain and simple. A ´Tac Yac´ is a tactical vomit that is usually unnoticed by companions, perhaps in a bush or the bathroom, and allows you to continue with the night. Chunder is heavy and thick, like a waterfall. It has been noted that Lima is chunder territory. A hurl is a projectile and just goes everywhere.
A Wanchaq is a type of vomit that you don´t even notice you´ve done, and will often get you kicked out of wherever you are. You didn´t even feel sick. A vaso is when the closest receptacle to present itself in your moment of need is a glass. A Heinz looks like your last meal, chunky and steaming. A boot is predictable, and usually badly timed, like on a plane or in a crowd. It is common courtesy to make the announcement, ´I´m gonna boot,´ if there´s no available alternatives. A spit-burp is a technique that gradually helps you feel better, usually performed over a toilet. A certain degree of disgust at these terms is merited, apologies, but this is part of the debilitating reality South America has introduced us to. I thought you wanted to know how we were doing.
With a quick reference to the aforementioned belief that sometimes you just have to be there, I end on this note,
´Pole!!!´
No comments:
Post a Comment