SEE? THERE REALLY IS A LAKE TITICACA!

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Our room at the Pirwa Hostel in Puno was on a very busy and noisy street. In addition to the sounds of traffic, we had been serenaded Tuesday evening by a man who sounded like he was right outside our window. Apparently he worked for the local bus company, and every time a bus would approach he would shout out something that sounded like "YICKY! YICKY! YICKY!" This happened every few minutes up until 10:00 PM or so, and it really was quite annoying. Occasionally, I would hear a woman also calling out "YICKY! YICKY! YICKY!", but it almost sounded as if she were answering the man with a mocking call of her own, perhaps out of the same frustration I was feeling,  rather than

actually announcing the arrival of a bus. The shouting had stopped by the time we went to bed on Tuesday night (though it started up again early Wednesday morning), but there was still enough street noise to warrant wearing ear plugs, which helped me sleep soundly through most of the night.

When I first awoke on Wednesday morning, I initially could still feel the Soroche induced throbbing headache I had experienced the day before, but within a few minutes it seemed to subside substantially, much to my relief. The Doctor also felt some better, though no where near 100%. He had gotten up during the middle of the night and felt well enough to finish the rest of the meal from the vegetarian restaurant. He had eaten in the dark, and said he hoped no bugs had crawled into the food, as he couldn't see what he was eating. I had slept so soundly I never even heard him stirring, but was glad to hear he had taken some nourishment. We discussed whether he felt well enough for the boat tour of Lake Titicaca, and he said he thought he could manage it as long as he didn't have to do anything strenuous like running.

Our first major trauma of the day came when The Doctor discovered there was no hot water in the shower. He had really been looking forward to, a nice hot shower, especially after the rough night he had had. I am not sure how the shower worked exactly, but it had some sort of device attached directly to the shower head which controlled the heat, and this did not seem to be working properly.  Our showers that morning were cold and quick.

The van from the company conducting the Lake Titicaca tour arrived a little early. We were still eating the free "breakfast" provided downstairs at the hostel. This consisted mostly of small round loaves of bread, and some sort of yogurt beverage.  The Doctor was quite fond of the drink, but I refused to drink it. I think I suffer from some sort of Yogurt Phobia. In addition to the light fare offered at the hostel, we also had the loaves of bread we had purchased at the bakery the night before. 

We were the first ones on the van, but it made several stops at other hostels and hotels to pick up passengers and had soon filled up.   At one stop I noticed a woman who appeared to be a city employee going down the street with a broom and dust pan, sweeping the street. For the first time I realized that while Puno was poor and rather run down, its streets were surprisingly clean.

We drove through town and got off the van at a marina, and from there walked to the boat that would take us out onto Lake Titicaca for the day.

Our boat was the third one out from the pier, so we actually had to walk across two other boats to get to it. The boat held about 15 passengers, and had an upper deck also, which we were able to go up on. In the back of the boat was a little self service tea bar, where Coca Tea and some other flavors were available. As I have mentioned, Coca is the same plant Cocaine is derived from, but in tea form it is harmless, and has medicinal properties. It is highly recommended as a remedy for Soroche. The Doctor had been drinking it since his arrival in Peru the week before, as well as sucking on the hard Coca candy, and even chewing the leaves of the coca plant. None of this  seemed to help him when the sickness actually struck, but who knows how much worse it might have been without without these precautions.

The boat ride to the first of the Uros Floating Islands took about 45 minutes to an hour. We passed "fields" of reeds, which the island inhabitants depend on heavily for everything from medicine to the very construction of their islands. Lake Titicaca has 60 of these floating islands, and we visited two of them. The islands welcome tourists daily on a rotating basis, so that every day 30 or so islands are open to the public, and the other 30 are closed. There is some speculation that the islands have become nothing more than floating gift shops, and no one actually lives on them any more. I like to think this is untrue, but in any case they were fascinating and offered a glimpse of what life might have been like for those who did live on them in the past. (Below:  The Doctor captures the scenic beauty of Lake Titicaca with his camera.)

Our first stop was the floating island of Kollana.  Our guide told us that Peru has 3 official languages; Spanish of course is widely spoken, but on the islands they speak Quechua. Our guide taught us (or tried anyway) the Quechua phrases for the typical greeting and proper response, but I barely got through it then, and certainly don't remember it now. Several of the women greeted us warmly and shook our hands as we got off the boat, and we were introduced to the President of Kollana. Each island had its own President, who is voted into office through an election.

Our group sat on bundles of reeds in a semi-circle, and our guide interpreted as the President spoke. He gave a very interesting demonstration on the construction of the floating islands. The reeds roots are very buoyant, and are harvested in square bundles, which are bound together with rope to form the islands foundation.

Several layers of reeds are spread out on the foundation creating the island's "ground".

Walking on the island is similar to walking on a mattress, but not at all difficult, and there is no danger (or so we were told!) of "falling through". The islands are anchored into position by stakes driven into the lake's bottom and connected to the islands by rope. If the island is located over an especially deep section of the lake, anchor ropes up to a mile long can run to stakes in shallower parts of the lake. Rocks are tied to the rope to weigh it down to prevent it from getting entangled in boats passing on the surface.

It takes approximately a year to build an island complete with huts and a fleet of small boats.

I asked the guide if they could move the islands once they were in place, and he said that yes, from time to time disputes with neighboring islands might result in an island pulling up anchor and moving on. This was interpreted for the chief, and to demonstrate he pulled up the anchor from the model island feigning disgust toward the imagined offensive neighbor.

After this we were split up into small groups of 3 and sent off with different residents of the island to tour their homes. Myself, The Doctor, and a third guy were taken by the President to his hut. The entire structure was about the size of an average American bedroom, and held one bed made out of reeds, which the President told us slept 4 people.

The President could speak a little English and he asked us a few questions such as where we were from and how long we were in Peru for.

And then he brought out the bags of souvenirs - woven wall hangings, alpaca rugs, and various other handcrafted items, which he tried to get us to buy. He was a little aggressive about it, and with him seated between us and the door, we were pretty much his captive audience. The whole thing felt very awkward. I couldn't help imagine President Obama inviting guests to the White House, taking them into the Lincoln Bedroom and then trying to coerce them into buying postcards and key chains.  None of us bought anything though, and finally he led us outside to another table where he tried to sell us more handmade items. I did buy a few little trinkets here, and then moved on to other tables that also had souvenirs for sale.

During the initial welcome we had been shown some of their handicrafts, including a colorful hanging mobile made from reeds depicting a traditional Peruvian wedding. I had thought one of those would make a great gift for Yolanda, who had been so helpful making calls to Peru for me to straighten out some of the confusion I had encountered with the people at Pirwa Hostels. Yoland had gotten married on the very day I was originally scheduled to fly out of Boston, and I had felt bad about missing her wedding, especially after I ended up not leaving anyway!   One of the women had several mobiles at her table, but I couldn't tell if they were the same style that had been shown to us earlier. She saw me studying them and finally said to me: "Matrimonial". So I did buy one, and she ran to a nearby hut to get a plastic bag to wrap it in.

While she was doing that they announced it was time for a boat ride in the President's elegantly styled reed boat, which he had referred to earlier as his "Mercedes Benz". There was an additional charge for this but it was a very small price, and I think everyone in our group did it. I finished purchasing Yolanda's wedding present and hurried over to the boat which at this point everyone else had already boarded.   As I stepped from the island to the boat, I slipped and came dangerously close to falling into the waters of Titicaca!

Once we were all aboard the women gathered around and sang some sort of traditional song in their native tongue, and then much to our delight sang "Row Row Row Your Boat"! This was also in Quechua, but of course we all recognized the tune.

The President himself and another man sat at the head of the boat and did the rowing.  They rowed us around for maybe 10 or 15 minutes, passing other reed boats with other tourists, and some of the other islands.

The Doctor stuck his hand in the water so he could say he had touched Lake Titicaca, and I did the same. (Below: "Don't Drink The Water" doesn't apply to Lake Titicaca . . . does it???)

Among our group was a family that had two sons, possibly twins, and probably in their early teens. At least I think they were both boys; I was a little uncertain about one of them and could never figure out exactly which gender he (or she) was. The other was definitely male, and I think probably had a diagnosis of ADHD. He couldn't sit still and even on the reed boat, he was up and down and all over the place. He even asked the President if he could row the boat, and surprisingly he consented and let the boy take his place with the oar. The boy seemed to take to it quite naturally, and he declared he was going to stay there and live on the island. His sibling made some wry comment indicating that his (or her) life would be better off without him . . .

Also on the boat was an adorable little girl from the island. She had a runny nose, but that didn't keep everyone from taking her picture. She was very shy and didn't say a word, but was very photogenic, and seemed naturally inclined to pose for the camera. The running joke of the day was that the children of the islands must start attending modeling school at a very early age, as it seemed to be second nature for most of them to strike a pose without even really trying.

(Below: The Doctor explores the President's "Mercedes Benz" reed boat)

Our short boat ride concluded on the floating island of Q'anan Pacha. As far at the Uros Islands go, this island would have to be considered something of a Metropolitan center. Though no bigger than the other islands, it boasts a post office, a small 2 room hotel (where tourists can spend the night), a snack bar, and a cafeteria.  (Below: The Doctor climbs a look out tower on Q'anan Pacha.)

We spent a little while here looking around and of course buying more souvenirs.  We then returned to our tour boat and cruised to Taquile Island. I would describe Taquile as a mountain island. Our guide told us there was a very steep set of stairs running up one side of the island, and that we would be climbing down those at the end of our visit. Going up, he said, we would be taking an easier path on

the near side of the island. We docked and began our ascent, which was anything but easy.


Anyone from Worcester is familiar with George Street, the hill right across from the Courthouse on Main Street. This is a pretty steep incline, so steep that the Olympic bicyclist Major Taylor used to train by peddling up it. Almost everyday after work for the past 4 or 5 years I have walked up this hill to where I park my car. It probably takes no more than 5 minutes, but the climb still leaves me out of

breath. The incline up Taquile is just as steep as George St., but much, MUCH longer. It just seemed to keep on going and going and going. I think it took us a good 45 minutes to climb. Though the worst of our headaches had passed, we were still feeling the shortness of breath related to Soroche, and we were panting and gasping for air most of the time. I remembered the Doctor's comment that morning that he thought he would be ok as long as he didn't have to do anything exerting, like running.  This was not running, but it was a pretty good work out just the same.  Around the same time The Doctor had begun feeling the effects of Soroche, he had also started coming down with a head cold and was

also suffering from a lot of congestion, and between the two ailments, breathing was a really effort. Even so, he is about 50 lbs lighter than me, and in excellent physical condition, so in spite of his difficulties he had an easier time with the climb than I did. 


I actually thought I did pretty good. Several people fell by the wayside as they stopped to catch their breath, but I managed to keep up a steady, forward momentum, stopping now and then only to take pictures. The Doctor's version of the climb differs slightly, as he claims I complained a lot on the way up. I disagree; speculating aloud as to the number of tourists who must die on this trek is not

complaining, at least as far as I am concerned . . .

Along the way we passed many of the island's inhabitants, either going up and down themselves (some carrying heavy packs on their back), or taking care of their animals. We saw a lot of sheep and some cows.

I believe we also passed a few elderly people sitting on the path begging for coins. Houses were built into the mountainside all over the island, many with solar panels and even a few with satellite dishes! Small terraced fields could be seen here and there where some farming was being done. Occasionally we would pass little restaurants or bars, some not much bigger than storage units, but I guess they were sufficient to serve the island's 2,500 residents. (Below: View of Lake Titicaca through a stonewall on the path to the top of Taquile.)

Finally we stopped near the top of our climb at a little village plaza. Around the plaza were an old church with a quaint bell tower, a larger restaurant, some sort of government building, a couple shops, and a long two story building which our tour guide said was a textile museum, and strongly encouraged us to check out.   Apparently the words "museum" and "gift shop" are interchangeable terms here, as we soon discovered everything on "display" was for sale. Taquile is known for its weaving and knitting, and their work truly is beautiful. Women and men both walk around with balls of yarn attached to their waist and their hands busy knitting.


Handicrafts were being peddled outside in the plaza as well. One young girl was trying to sell little woven wrist bracelets which really were nice, and for only S/2.00 a piece were pretty cheap, but no one seemed interested. I finally went over and bought three from her, two with a lot of purple in them, and one with rainbow colors. She seemed quite pleased to get a customer and tied one of the purple ones around my right wrist for me.

I hunted down The Doctor who was in "The Museum" trying to figure out the price tag on an "exhibit" - one of the lovely wall hangings. The tag was a little cryptic, so he asked one of the women how much it was and she couldn't figure it out either. Between the confusion over the tag and language barriers, he soon had four people trying to help him sort it out. When he finally got the correct price, he decided to pass.

I had bought the other purple bracelet for The Doctor, and I gave it to him and we set off to find the girl who I had bought it from so she could tie it on his writst as well. Later he bought a few more from her.

We had been told on the boat that you can tell a lot about the people of Taquile by the hats they wear. Babies and children wear one style of hat, and then graduate to another when they turn 7. Married men wear red hats, while the hats of single men are red and white. Married women wear a black shawl around the head, similar to the headpieces worn by nuns, almost giving the impression they are in mouning.  We were a little confused by this, because the young girl who sold us the bracelets was wearing the black shawl, but didn't appear to be any older than 14 or 15. The Doctor asked our guide, and after he reiterated what he had said earlier about the black shawls indicating marriage, we pointed the young girl out to him. He kind of shrugged it off and said that the traditions were not always followed. We both thought this a little odd.

From the plaza we continued a ways further up the mountain to our final destination, a nice little restaurant where we were scheduled to have lunch. I told the guide we were both vegetarian, and he told me there was a vegetarian option available. We all sat at a long table, and while we waited for the meal to be served a musician entertained us by playing a Peruvian type guitar and a Pan Flute, sometimes simultaneously. I love Pan Flute music. One of the the songs he played was "El Condor

Pass", more familiarly known as "I'd Rather Be A Hammer Than A Nail" (I told The Doctor I am happy to switch . . . ).

I ordered an Inca Kola, my first encounter with Peru's popular soft drink. My step-brother Joe who visited Peru a few years ago had told me about it, and even asked me to bring him back some. Its taste has been compared to both bubble gum and cotton candy, and though it was very sweet, I can't say that it reminded me of either of those flavors.

We were brought a tray of bread with a tasty salsa made from fresh veggies, and later some Quinoa soup which was also quite good. The entree choices were a fish dish, or an omelette, which is what we got. It was made with egg and vegetables, but did not appear to have cheese in it, and was very tasty.

After our long climb, pretty much anything would have tasted good. Except maybe guinea pig . . .

Our meal was topped off with cup of local tea. I'm not sure what kind of tea it was (it wasn't Coca), but it had some kind of little sprig in it. As we finished, our guide told us a little more about the culture of Taquile Island. He said that it was a long standing custom for couples to live together for up to 5 years before marrying to make sure they were compatible, an idea which I think probably has some merit.   During this pre-nuptial co-habitation, they practice a natural form of birth control by drinking another local tea that prevents pregnancy. (We could certainly use something like that in America!)  He said most of the island's population is Catholic, and of course these pre-marital living arrangements and birth control practices do not bode well with the church, so most of the islander's are "Catholic in name only" (not terribly different from the US, as far as I can tell!)

After we ate, we had a few minutes to check out some of the souvenir vendors set up near the restaurant. I picked up a few things, including another bag of the hard Coca candy. We had taken the steep path up one side of the island, but for our descent we went down the steep and narrow 530 steps on the other side.

Shortly after we started, a cute little boy came up to me and started grabbing at my bag and studying the contents through the transparent plastic. He spotted the Coca candy, and it became obvious that he wanted me to give him some. I opened the package, and gave him a couple pieces. He seemed quite happy and went on his way.

The steps down looked daunting, but it was easier going down the mountain than it had been going up, and I am sure our ascent had been easier on the path (steep as it was) than it would have been climbing UP the steps.

I was still curious about the whole marriage thing, so I asked our guide what the average marrying age was on the island. He said between 18 - 25. Based on what he had told us earlier about their custom of living together prior to marriage, this in theory could mean that a sanctioned pre-marital relationship could start as early as 13. So I followed up by asking: "And they live together up to 5 years before that?" I think he saw where I was headed, and he quickly replied "Usually 2 to 5 years". I have the feeling the guide was not ready to easily admit they condoned "underage" relationships, especially to an outsider. The young girl wearing the marriage shawl in the plaza might after all have been in the pre-marital phase of a relationship. This is pure speculation on my part, but that's the picture I get

when I put the pieces together. Different cultures have different customs, and provided the relationships are based on mutual affection and are consensual, I don't have an issue with it.

When we reached the bottom of the steps, The Doctor pointed out a sign listing a "Code Of Practice" for visitors. The third item clearly stated: "Avoid giving candy to the children", something I had clearly violated by giving the little boy some of my Coca candy. There was probably a sign similar to this on the far side of the island where we had started out, but I hadn't noticed it. The boy was so endearing, I am not sure I would have had the heart to turn him down anyway. . . .

We made our way back to the boat, and once on board The Doctor showed me a stone pyramid he had bought on the island. He intended to take it with him to Machu Picchu, and find some sort of similarly shaped opening at the ruins into which he could insert the pyramid like a key and unlock some long hidden mystical power. Having seen enough horror movies, I told him it was more likely that his actions would unleash the apocalypse . . . .

At one point on our cruise, The Doctor asked our guide if there were any monsters in Lake Titicaca, such as the ones in Loch Ness, Lake Champlain, and other places.  Apparently the joke is that Nessie vacations in Titicaca, but the guide said there had been no sightings that he knew of. He did tell of some mythical half-man, half-donkey creature that lurks in the lake's waters, and disguises himself as a beautiful woman to lure drunken men to a watery grave. Because of this, men on the islands

never venture out alone after they have been drinking, but take someone with them to help recognize the disguised man-donkey for what it truly is.  (Below: The Doctor spots something of interest on Lake Titicaca.  Could it be the man-donkey?)

The Doctor spent most of the boat ride back to Puno on the upper deck. I stayed below for part of the trip writing postcards, then went up and joined him for the rest of the ride. In spite of our brush with Soroche the previous day, we had both felt pretty good on the Lake Titicaca cruise, but now as we neared Puno I started to feel a little congestion. The Doctor had developed this the day before around the same time his Soroche symptoms were beginning to show. Cold symptoms don't seem to be

consistent with Soroche, but considering they are both related to respiration I wouldn't be surprised if there is some sort of link.

When we arrived back in Puno we had the tour van drop us off near Lima Street, where the pedestrian mall with all the shops and restaurants is. The Doctor wanted to check out a few places that had been closed the day before, and I needed to buy more postcard stamps. I returned to the travel agent where I had bought the stamps with the HIV/AIDS awareness message the day before and bought more. Again there was a language barrier, but as I was curious, I pointed at the stamps and asked if HIV was a big problem in Peru. Both the people working at the shop denied that it was a major concern, and said only a few people had it. I find it hard to believe they would issue a stamp promoting prevention if it is really a non-issue, and I had the feeling they were trying to avoid anything that might present their country in a negative light.

The previous day we had gone into a bank on Lima Street as I wanted to get change for some of my larger Nuevos Soles. I went in and started to get in line, but an armed security guard motioned me over and took me to a machine I had assumed was an ATM. He pushed a few buttons on it, and it produced a numbered ticket, sort of like you would get at a deli counter. I sat and waited until my number was called and was able to get the change with no problem, in spite of the usual language barrier.  On Wednesday, I went back again, this time to get some American currency exchanged. I had no idea how to get a ticket out of the machine, but The Doctor had obviously been paying closer attention on the previous day, and knew which buttons to push, and sure enough a ticket popped out. While we waited The Doctor became quite mesmerized with a ridiculously silly Candid Camera type show in Spanish. I made my exchange, and got him out of there just in the nick of time.   (Below: Waiting for my ticket to be called at the bank on Lima St. in Puno.)

After we did a little more shopping and I mailed some postcards, we headed back to Vida Natural, the vegetarian restaurant I had gotten the take out from the night before. The food had been good, and we wanted to try it at a table in the restaurant as opposed to eating it off the floor of our room at the hostel. I was also eager for The Doctor to meet the owner, who had been so friendly to me the night before.

When we walked in the owner was again sitting at his table, this time wiping off plates. For a restaurant that didn't seem to have a lot of business, the man seemed obssessed with with wiping down the dishes and cutlery. He looked up and saw us, but didn't act like he remembered me at all. In fact he seemed rather cool to both of us. He did visit a little from time to time, and was interested to learn that The Doctor was a member of the SDA church, but his overall mood seemed less welcoming

than the night before. He did not even offer to help us through the Spanish menu, which he had been eager to do with me the previous night. Who knows what the reason was, but the only explanation that I could come up with was that when he saw us together he was able to figure out that we were gay, and perhaps had a problem with that.

We were the only ones there when we arrived, but shortly after another party came in and sat at a table. After that, perhaps 2 or 3 other couples came in, but he seemed to turn them away; from what we could understand he seemed to tell them they could order take out, but couldn't eat there. I think all of them left without placing orders, and again I was puzzled as to why he would turn customers away, when he had told me the night before how slow business was. Maybe he didn't want to soil his recently cleaned dishes . . .

Again, it took a long time for the food to be prepared; while we waited he brought us each a complementary bowl of soup similar to the Quinoa soup we had had at lunch on Taquile. Our entrees were good when the finally arrived. Mine was vegetable kabob with a few slices of some kind of gluten meat on it. It was good, but only the gluten was warm, the vegetables were cold. It was quite filling, and I couldn't finish mine.

When we were done and The Doctor was paying, the man's wife called something out to him in Spanish. He told us she wanted to know if we knew of the 3ABN. 3ABN, or Three Angels Broadcasting Network, is the Seventh Day Adventist television channel. We told him we were both familiar with it, and I told him my mother watches it a lot. He said his wife watches it all day long. She seemed quite pleased that we knew of it. He gave The Doctor the restaurant's business card, and told him to send his friends, as he needed the business . . .

We went back to our hostel and got ready for our trip to Cusco the next day. My cold symptoms were still with me, as were The Doctor's, but we had had a good day considering the condition we had been in the night before.