Peru

After our non-stop, photo-till-you-drop tour of the Cuzco area - Pilar and I were quite exhausted. We took a couple days off in Cuzco bumming around and haggling for clothes, jewelry, etc. We met up and had a BBQ with my friends, Joel, Eileen, Lucas, and Mariano from Bolivia. Joel and Eileen are renting for $200/month a fantastic apartment in the upper part of Cuzco. We bought a whole bunch of meat and veggies and sat down for an afternoon of cooking that was relaxing and delicious - although a Canadian guy lectured me for the better part of an hour on American politics. Some French travellers stopped by and I tried, and failed (quite comically), to have a conversation about Mali.
We hopped on a bus that night to Arequipa,

a large city in Southern Peru that is known for its' whitewashed, volcanic-rock building facades and its' nearness to the deepest canyon in the world - Cañon del Colca.
We found a wonderful hostel and strolled around the town's parks.

Next day, we visited a nunnery where Dominican sisters lived in complete seclusion from the outside world. Beautiful old place.





We head to the cañon tommorow.

Lovin' time in Pukapukara

Food protest

Traditional Garb

Incan Salt Pans

Waiting....

Pisac

Lovin' the cheap food

Pisac

Pukapukara

Tiempo del Asado

Oh my goodness

Mi guia

Local Delicacy

After our whirlwind Incan tour we caught word of the Virgen de Carmen festival in the nearby town of Paucartambo. So we hopped a bus there understanding that because of the festival we might not be able to find a place to stay and might have to sleep outside. Luckily, Pilar befriended a couple from Lima who knew of some clandestine places to stay. When we arrived the town was already in a state of pandemonium. The streets were crowded with 18 different groups of parading dancers and musicians, each representing different aspects of the complicated religious proceedings.

We searched for some places and finally found a beautiful hacienda that had been converted into hostel by the wild-eyed, now-drunk owner. We were thankful to have a bed.

We went back into the streets and watched the proceedings for the next few hours.

Wild-costumes, crowd interference, dancing, and drunk spectators - a real festival.


We went back to the hostel where the owner and his kooky friends were getting shitfaced. The friends knew no bounds of personal space and were pressing us for interaction. Things continued to get stranger as they got more drunk. We left again for the square where an old couple invited us to dance with them - Pilar, of course, quickly picked up the correct steps I just did my "dance-in-circle" routine. Really genuine, fun people. Dangerous fireworks and LOTS of drinking.
We bumped into the crazy friends again who didn't want to let us leave, they explained how nice the hostel was because it was not only a hostel, it was, apparently, an informal sanitorium for the owner and his friends. That explained alot about the awkward happenings.

We returned to Cuzco the next day.

Cuzco is like the disneyland of South America - more tourists than natives. But the place deserves the visitors - it is absolutely beautiful. The city is set within beautiful hills with a dozen old churches and cathedrals. This was the premier city of the Incan empire for many years that, at its' peak, stretched from Quito, Ecuador to northern, Argentina/Chile. When the Spanish arrived here in the early 1500's they, of course, killed the Incan Emperor (not before demanding a ransom of gold) and tried to assume power of the empire. It took awhile, but they succeeded, even though the Quechua language of the Incas survives with some 5 million speakers. Cuzco reflects the struggle of the empires. Spanish churches are built on the foundations of Incan sites and colonial buildings are set within the confines of the narrow streets that Incans only made large enough for load-bearing llamas.
I bumped into the Argentineans and Brit/Aussie I met in Argentina - they all succeeded in getting jobs here in various restaurants. I was to catch up with them at some bars but, evidently, my food poisoning was actually a parasite. Apparently, while the amoeba is chowing down on my hard-earned food (within my gut) it emits a gas. So my abdomen swelled just a bit. But I eliminated that little fucker with some strong anti-parasitics. I blame the trout in Copacabana.
After some recovery time, it was the day of Pilar´s arrival. It was ill-timed because the entire country of Peru was on strike for various economic reasons. When I exited the hostel to go to the airport the streets were COMPLETELY blocked with crowds and there were no cars, taxis, colectivos - nothing. I asked a police officer how I could get to the airport and he flagged down his friend on a motorscooter. He agreed to take me there for free. As I clutched to his midriff, the crowd threw a few rocks at us because it was disrespectful to be driving during the protests.
Pilar arrived and we were both completely shocked to see one another after nearly 4 months. We didn't know how to greet one another, but we quickly caught up.

The next day we visited the ruins of the Incan fortress saqsaywaman (yes, it sounds like 'sexy woman' if you can't, like me, pronounce quechua). Unbelievable place, we just mulled about the massive rock walls for a few hours and remarked at the unbelievable masonry skills of the Incas. They had only bronze tools and had nothing stronger than a llama to move 200 ton blocks that fit together without any bonding-agent.
We head to some smaller towns in the next few days to soak in some hot springs and visit more ruins including Macchu Picchu.