Peru and Beyond- finding my way around South America

Originally I had planned to visit Puno and LagoTitikaka en route to Bolivia later on in the year, however as plans always tend to do, this changed.  Spontaneously one of my friends in Calca called me and said he was at the terminal booking tickets for Puno and would I like to come. I had little time to decide but found myself saying yes. So suddenly I found myself on a night bus in the company three young men, French, Belgian/Italian and a Dane. An interesting, but fun, combination to say the least.

The boys had all never been on a night bus before, so I felt like quite the old hat with my seasoned hours of night busses through renowned dodgy drug jungle areas and all the rest. They began the trip by quoting from the lonely planet travel guide as follows:

‘overnight buses are best avoided has overnight buses have been hijacked, even by criminals posing as fellow passengers, and tourists can be robbed and raped. Military checkpoints can appear anywhere as can road blockades by terrorist groups’ I then proceeded to hear about the landmines and all the dangers Peru has to offer. Thank you lonely planet. The boys quickly decided that if anything happened it would be my fault, as I had suggested we take a night bus and give ourselves an extra day in Puno. After lots of whinging about a non functional TV (apparently they didn’t even want to watch some random Spanish film they always show on these buses, it was just a matter of PRINCIPLE that the promised TV wasn’t working) we finally got to sleep. Funniest image ever was seeing the three boys clutching onto their bags all night just in case the promised hijacking occurred. Seriously these Europeans have no taste for adventure!

We arrived in Puno in the early hours of the morning and I immediately felt the crispness, that particular thin quality the air has, at these high altitudes. A few scattered hours sleep in a hostel and we were ready to tackle breakfast and find a tour for the lake and islands the next day. Our little group of 4 quickly expanded to about 20 volunteers and ex volunteers, who all happened to be in Puno that weekend. Brilliant fun! The afternoon was spent walking through the black market of Puno, apparently according to the boys Puno was the prime location to buy a stolen iPhone. Lovely. We ended up finding everything stolen but the iphones… perhaps they were in a slightly less visible location than the open street markets we were wandering through. Nevertheless we now know where to head if anything was ever stolen. The stall holders shamelessly tried to sell us assortments of backpacks, hikingboots, jackets, mismatched clothing, basically just about everything that could be found in your average backpackers pack. Lunch was another affair with lots of whinging. Frederik having spent most of his life in Italy stupidly ordered a pizza. Now even to those unused to the brilliance of italian pizza, it is safe to say the peruvians really don’t manage. It’s a soggy affair of an imbalance of too much cheese, no sauce, crappy toppings and a doughy base. Poor Frederik could simply not cope.

That evening after a filling meal at a Chifa (Peruvian Chinese) we decided to test Lonely Planet’s recommendation by visiting the “the best watering hole in southern Peru”. It was indeed a lovely pub/bar. It is at these places where it is easy to be transported to a different place. One could be anywhere in the world, most definitely not in Peru. The soundtrack is that of nostalgia, those songs we all know and reminisce what they all meant to us at their times of popularity. It is sometimes hard when yourealize how no one has a shared memory, because no one knew each other back then. Or with some people even just a month ago. At these points you start to long for those people with whom you share a past… a memory… a story friends and family we all grew up with and know so well. Sentimental moments aside, as usual the night is great fun and we return to our hostels slightly apprehensive with our early morning start at the harbour to meet our boat. We quickly realize how impossible sleep is going to be, as our hostel is conveniently located right next to a major disco. Oops. Lots of salsa beats later we finally drift off to sleep, our feet probably all still tapping away to the rhythms flooding our rooms.

Early morning breakfast of the usual Pan y mantaquilla (literally bread and butter) and our cup of mate de coca to push away those lingering twinges of altitude sickness (or other causes of headaches also likely) was not a special affair. We scrambled aboard our boat and off we went, leaving the dirty and rather ugly city of Puno behind, the fresh air and blue skies and water offering a much more attractive alternative. The islands of Uros were our first stop. These islands are perhaps the most famous of lake titikaka, yet somehow I couldn’t quite connect to them. They are made out of layers and layers of reeds, as they rot away from the bottom they are replaced on top. Everything is made of these reeds. Boats, houses, archways, fences etc. Apparently the locals still live here as they have for all time, yet it is somehow hard to believe. It was very touristy and seemed staged. Maybe if we had visited different islands deeper into the community of floating islands we would have experienced something different. It was however still spectacularly beautiful, the yellow reeds contrasting brilliantly with the blue of the sky and reflecting water.

Back on the boat and onward for a few more hours to Isla Amantani, a larger and less touristic island of the lake. The weather is perfect, and it is hard to not simply sit on the deck of our boat with a massive content grin on my face as everything is simply so perfect and just the way it should be. I had forgotten how much I had missed water and the ocean. Although still landlocked, lake titikaka was big enough to bring back many beach time and water memory. I had missed the bright blue clear skies and radiant sunlight that was becoming more and more rare as the rainy season creeps into Cusco and the Andes.

We arrived in Amantani and were greeted by the locals. The captain of our boat divided us all up and sent us off to follow different locals. Sidsel (my jungle buddy from denmark) Laura (housemate in Cusco) and Stella (Volunteer from finland) ended up in a little house overlooking the endless blue of the lake. Lunch was simple but delicious. Our host mother, prepared the freshest trout, potato and rice on the simple wood fire stove that was our kitchen.  A dash of lime juice and some salt, it was impossible to not enjoy. Too tired to do much, we walked around the island a little and then returned to play many a round of cards. There are only so many sights you can take in a day, and it was time for a rest.

Nighttime came slowly and we enjoyed the sunset in clichéd style. Beer and good company. Life was good. As the sun disappeared the cold set in reminding us we really were at around 4000 metres. Lake titikaka brought back many memories of my time in Russia and lake Baikal, another lake of immense volume. I thought about how much things had changed since I was 16 and naively decided to follow my exchange class on a trip to Russia and a lake I never knew existed before. Now, a few years later, here I was, again at a lake, again an opposite side of the world, but this time a entirely a product of my own choices, decisions and actions. It was a nice feeling to have, sitting in silence and staring across the lake and setting sun, thinking just how happy I was to be where I was at exactly that moment in time.

After dinner we were given an assortment of Peruvian traditional dress and shown how to put them on. The next few hours were spent with the other volunteers and all the locals in a hall with live Peruvian music and muchascerveza. We all danced and laughed our time away and had a lot of fun. Highlight of the night was when Jimmi and Pierre ended up wearing the many layers of the quechuan skirts and floral shirts and then proceeded to dance as well. Classic.

Sleep that night was bliss. With only candle night, we hardly had many options for night time activities. An early night was just what was needed. Bundled up warmly in many layers of Alpaca blankets not even the coldest high altitude titikaken wind could get to us. I awoke early that morning and decided to climb up to the top of the island. With no one else keen I began the climb by myself. My heart was beating incredibly fast even after the first few metres up. I hate how the altitude has such an affect. It seriously feels as though every breath isn’t enough. My body takes a long time to adjust, and I think I am still slowly adjusting from when I returned from the jungle a few weeks back. Altitude aside, this walk was by far my favourite moment of the weekend trip. Over my whole time in Peru everything has always been about being around and with people, from working in the kindergarten to my family or spending so much time with other volunteers. This was again intensified when traveling in the jungle with a close group of friends. Walking up this mountain I felt as though I finally had a moment to myself, to think many things over.

Surprisingly I was very content with this solitude, and I sat on the top of the mountain overlooking the lake from every angle as the sun intensified. One direction there were mountain ranges smouldering into the distance. Ancient giants simply resting and waiting. Another angle, by far my favourite, offered a view across the lake to a smudge of Bolivia in the distance. Snow capped mountains lined another edge of the lake. I sat there and simply breathed in the beauty and the tranquility. I thought a lot about my traveling plans and some important choices  I have to make, the main on being whether I should travel alone or not. I came to the conclusion that while I will try to have a base, a contact in every country or place, I will try and make the trips from one to another by myself. So far my plans are slowly shaping up to start by going south again to Bolivia, from there fly up to Colombia to spend Christmas with my dear Colombian chicka Laura, fly to Brazil for some beach and summer fun and after that make my way by bus through to Argentina where I eventually fly out of back home. I like the thought of traveling by myself for some time, meeting who I meet but most importantly just going exactly where I want to go and doing as I feel.

We then all boarded the boat again to visit another nearby island, Isla Taquille. More steps and a steep climb greeted us, and we huffed and puffed all the way up. Blaming the altitude of course!!! Isla Taquille was delightful. Very mediterranean, the deep blue water stretching out in all directions, paved little streets and so many stone archways. We sat up the top and took the obligatory group shots and then had to dash back down for out boat back to Puno, so we could then get the long night bus back to Cusco. The boat trip back was a lovely affair of falling asleep on the decks and waking up delightfully sunburnt….  All in all a wonderful weekend with wonderful people, could not have had a better time!

The weeks are flying past me again, and it feels as though every day could contain an entire post or blog itself. Anyway here is a rough recap of what has happened since leaving the north and settling back into Calca, yet then finding myself moving on 4 days later to Cusco to begin work in the hospital….

The last few days in Calca were a bit of a whirlwind, getting to know a whole new group of volunteers only to find that I had to leave them again. Seriously hate saying goodbye!! My last week in the kindy was lots of fun. We made paper boats and then floated (or sank depending on launching techniques) them down the little river near by. The kids had so much fun, at first rolling  their pants up and very shyly putting their feet in the freeeeeezing water, then after a few minutes all running around naked, swimming, chasing the boats and of course so much splashing. No permission notes no need for bathers from head to toe, such a different experience of an excursion to the procedures we all have back home.  For my last day I invited all the kids down the hill to the Plaza in Calca for an icecream. I told them to all dress up nicely, and the next day they all arrived with combed hair, little shirts and trousers and dresses and all such special things. We walked/basically ran down the hill and shared a messy icecream or two. Needless to say the clean clothes were quite the oposite by the end. The teacher gave me a goodbye present of a beanie and scarf she had knitted for me and off the kids all went after one last sticky, smelly hug. I paid for them to get a lift back up the hill in a mini truck and it really hit me that something was ending as they all waved and yelled gracias as they disappeared up the hill.

Much to my dismay, I was told I had to move to my new placement that friday night, which I was really upset about as I had planned to have the weekend to thank my family together with my housemate and also bring something to more of a close with a place that had so become my home. But no, not possible, so very sulkingly I packed my bags and headed up over the mountains to Cusco city. I shouldnt have worried, because my family here is wonderful, the house has a computer and free internet (hence my ability to catch up on all this)  and I have a great housemate. It just happened to be Ollenka, my little sister´s, 10th birthday, so we celebrated by roasting marshmellows on a little fire and eating Pizza. Oh how peruvian!! I felt right at home, the house was full of family and laughter and just lots of fun!

I finished off the weekend by returning to Calca to bake a cake I had promised for them long ago. Afte spending many an hour trying to find fresh cream for my lemon pie, I resorted to cream in a can (I didnt know that was even possible). They also didnt have a cake tin so I used a frying pan and I also quickly discovered that baking at a high altitude is very different in terms of temperatures and how the cake will turn out. Oops. I thought the cake was vile, but my family loved it and even had it for breakfast the next day. I hope for their sake they really did like it and weren´t just being polite.  I said goodbye to my family, promising to return and visit during the last month that I´m here. Marcio, my host dad gave me a lovely speech, and it felt so good to actually be able to understand most of it. Oh how far things have come! After many a group shot and having my last piece of THE chocolate cake at the Plaza with my dear volleys I took the bus back to Cusco and was ready to start work the next day at the health clinic.

My first week of work was really really fun. I am now working in a public health clinic about 30 minutes walk away. The clinic covers just about everything from emergency to dentistry to gynacology. Serious cases of course go straight to the main hospital, but we still get to see our fair share of fun (?) things. I spent the first week assisting a doctor in Ecografia, basically just doing ultrasounds. I got to prep the patients while the doctor did the paper work. As I got more confident I began to set the machine up, typing in their details and then beginning the ultrasound. Usually they are preganant women coming in for check ups, so I had many a magical moment showing the mother her baby´s heart beat for the first time, its face, its little fingers and so forth…. Of course also a few awkward moments such as when I falsy identified a babys rear end as its head. Oops.

The magic of seeing babies at all different stages of development also brings with it sadness. There are many who simply did not look pleased at all when we told them they were pregnant. I mean who would be at the age of 17. I asked the doctor about abortions in Peru, finding out that they are illigal here like in many catholic countries, but of course with the knowledge that they are performed illigally all over the country. The doctor tells me just how many times he has seen horribly damaged women who would do anything to not bring another child in the world they could not support. The peruvian culture is very twisted in that sense. It is expected that the girls all remain “pure” until married, yet the male culture is quite the opposite. The more women they have slept with the better for their ego and reputation. How can something like that be logical? The end result is that the girls marry young, or if they do get pregnant they are forced to marry the father. This becomes shocking when you hear just how frequent rape is here, and how often the girls are even forced to marry those that raped them, just to keep their reputation of purity. Its not all grim and horrible though. I gave an ultrasound to a beautiful young couple, aged 18 and 19. The father was overjoyed when he looked at his baby, he was almost crying. He hugged and kissed his partners stomach and spoke to the child with such love. It was gorgeous!!! By the end of the week the doctor had much more trust in me and allowed to me do “transvaginal ultrasounds and examinations”. Yes, that is very much what it sounds like. However, with my white coat and feeling very doctor like, I had a completely different relationship with these people, as I suppose they did with me, so it really wasnt as confronting as I thought it was at the beginning. I did have this thought at one point, as I was sticking an interesting shaped instrument covered in a pink, and supposedly strawberry flavoured condom (the patients have to provide their own) up an old quechuan ladies skirts, of how the hell did I end up in a clinic in Peru doing something like this??? A year ago  I would never have pictured it, but here I am. This week (my second) has been much less eventful. I swapped with Laura, the girl I am living and working with, so now I am stuck in Triaje. Basically just weighing, measuring and taking blood pressure of everyone who comes into the clinic before they are sent to different areas. Booooooooring. But I suppose if I am to carry out these ideas of becoming and doctor back home I will have many hours of such work. You have to start at the bottom at some point!

In the afternoons three times a week Laura and I also organised to work in a home for severly mentally and physically disabled children. We spoon feed them dinner and then clean them up ready for bed. It is a very well equipped place, but even then it is very sad. These children do usually have parents somewhere, but often they are from the highlands and simply cannot support them. They look up at you with the most beautiful dark brown black eyes, the only real connection you can have as their twisted and frozen bodies offer none, and it is just so hard to not fall in love with all of them. I picked up one little baby and cuddled him for a while, yet once I tried to put him back he would not let go, clawing onto me, pulling my hair and screaming. They crave physical attention other than what they are given when cared for by the nurses. I carried little Nickolas around for quite some time!

Last weekend was mainly a family affair apart from a Halloween social with the other volunteers in Urubamba in the Sacred Valley.  Saturday Laura and I were too tired to do a whole lot and the thought of halloween really wasnt that enticing. The city was packed with locals and tourists alike, all dressed up and trick or treating. Instead of saying trick or treat though the kids just say HALOWEEN and shove their bag in front of them wanting candy. We decided to be lame and give it a miss, instead watching many an episode of Greys Anatomy in bed. (YES, even in peru!!) Sunday we went for a drive through the country with the whole family and grandma in tow, to a town famous for its pigs. This weekend was a special “Fiesta de Lechon” so we were greated with a Plaza full of stands proudly displaying whole roast pigs. The old peruvian ladies didn´t stop bringing them in, literally by the wheelbarrow. We shopped around for quite some time, Grandma obviously had the perfect piece in mind. We ended up with a good half a pig and plenty of tamales (delicious mixture of maize and either something sweet or savoury), beer and of course to go peruvian style, coca-cola to mix with it. (gross). while listening to live peruvian music we ate and ate and ate. No plates no knives, just literally pigging out. So much fun! We also walked around the town for a little while and visited a nice church, but really all we had in mind was a nice afternoon nap to digest it all. My dear danish friends returned from their travels so that night we all went out. I think most of the afternoon´s binge session of eating was worked off that night with all the dancing that we did, and trust me, its hard work at high altitude!! Monday was a public holiday as it was the day of the dead. True to peruvian style this includes much food, music, laughter and of course beer. Where better to celebrate this than where your loved ones lie. Hence, party at the cemetery. Such a different vibe to the cemeteries I have ever been to. Brilliant!

Off to the south of Peru for the weekend, visiting Puno and Lake Titicaca, the lake which spans across both Peru and Bolivia. Its conveniently Puno week, so muchas fiesta to be had. Looking forward to it very much!

So to round up yet another update which ended up a lot longer than planned, I´m loving my time here, exploring a different area of work and of course a different way of life- life in the big city. Looking forward to many new adventures and experiences and I´ll do my best to keep you all updated.

Love to you all wherever you may be…. xxxxxxxxxxxG

Like with everything in Peru, finding a jungle tour requires a lot of shopping around, bargaining and in the end just a lot of luck, because really it is impossible to work out if you can trust that you will get what they promise and of course what you have paid for. For the past few days in Iquitos we had already been followed around and offered many a jungle tour by the usual street touts working for a commission but we chose to ignore these. The night before we wanted to go on our tour we took the plunge and walked around from one office to another, all essentially offering the same thing. In the end we just went for one or the other and crossed our fingers. Camilla, Sidsel, Chris, our french buddies and I were off to the real hardcore Amazon jungle!

We began our trip early in the morning with an hour drive to a little river port I cant recall the name of. Here we loaded all our supplies for three days onto a little boat and off we went for over 2 hours, back down the Amazon river and then later a smaller river. Here we saw dolphins (apparently they were the special pink  amazon dolphins, but much to my disapointment this wasn´t very evident, meaning I couldnt prove a point which I had been arguing about with Chris for the last two weeks. Grrrrr). After staring out at the river for some time our attention span wavered and soon we were all snoozing as peacefully as you can with the rather loud motor at the back of the boat.

We arrived at a small jungle village and again had to carry all our supplies to an even smaller boat. We soon discovered just how much these boats leaked!!! We wound around smaller and smaller rivers, deeper and deeper in the jungle. The air was even richer than the heavy air of Iquitos, laden with moisture, insects and jungle noises. The river was also a different colour. You could tell it wasn´t disturbed as much. High trees and dense scrub lined the river, entwined with all those perfect cliches of tarzan jungle vines.

We arrived at our lodge, a group of very basic buildings made of mozzie netting and roofs thatched with banana palms. They were high up on stilts because the water rises dramatically in the wet season. It is hard to imagine the river swelling many metres higher than it was now. It seemed as though the river was snoozing, lying dormant, waiting for the turmoil of the rain that would disturb its peace. After lunch we went on another boat trip deeper into the jungle and also went for a walk with Ricardo, our machete weilding guide.

After settling into our little coffins (beds completely incased in mozzie netting that was essentially just white cotton, so you couldn´t see in or more importantly out. Not much fun for those with claustrophobic tendancies) we went for a night walk, where we saw tarantulas, frogs and of course all variaties of insects possible. The biting variety of course all ultimatly ended up on my body, attacking me beyond comprehension, even though I was covered with enough DEET repellant to probably deform me or cause all sorts of health problems for the rest of my life. Jungle at night is fabulous, as our ability to see decreases, every other sense heightens. The sounds and smells especially. With total faith in our guide we trudged through the swampy forest, luckily well equipped with knee high gumboots as we often found ourselves deep in mud.

Sleeping that night was easier than I thought, all claustrophobic thoughts disappearing upon the realisation that the nets were not at all my enemy, instead saving me from even more itching than I was already needing to do from previous insect attacks. We awoke early for a birdwatching boat trip, slowly creeping up the river and just absorbing the collective noise the jungle seems to cultivate. The river was absolutely still and for a change the temperature was almost cool. Mist hung over the river, again adding to the atmosphere of absolute tranquility. On this trip we saw monkeys, countless birds and even a sloth high up in the trees doing what sloths do so well- SLEEPING.

Later that day after breakfast we went Piraña fishing, which was a heap of fun. You can´t really eat them or anything as they are small and boney, but somehow all our hunting instincts kicked in and it felt mighty good ebing on top of the food chain and catching the little fish that are so well known for fleecing anything with meat on their bones in minutes. Back from a successful fishing trip we had lunch and then packed for our camping night out in the jungle.

I always love camping, but doing it in the Amazon jungle was one step more special. We went further into the jungle and arrived at a little site just overlooking the river. We were given  hammocks and a mozzie net and told to find suitable looking trees to tie them to. Surprisingly comfortable, thats how we slept that night. You really couldn´t be any closer to the jungle than we were. That night it was Matt´s (french) birthday. Sidsel and I had bought some candles at a little supermarket, so at dinner time we glued these onto his plate of food and all sang happy birthday. What a brilliant place to celebrate your birthday!

The next morning called for an early start, packing up and then heading back to the lodge, packing up the rest of our gear and slowly heading back up river to civilisation. Tired and rather overwhelmed I suppose, we all slept most of the way back on several boats and finally the car. Occasionally opening our eyes at the shout of ¨dolphin¨from our guide, but quickly fell asleep again.

We arrived back in Iquitos late that night, and the taxi driver handed out all our bags. He told me mine had opened but he had put all my stuff back in. Only later that night did I realise I did not have my camera in my bag. As one could imagine, I was not very pleasant to be around that night. All my photos, and memories of the Iquitos trip were on that stupid camera. I went back to the tour office and with the help of Chris explained that basically I needed to have my camera back and they should sort it out. They promised to contact the driver and search all the taxis, but I was hardly optimistic. I mean its Peru we are talking about! The next morning I moped around in our room and felt very sorry for myself. This soon changed when Chris returned with my camera. SOOOOOOOOOOO happy.

That night we all slept marvelously in our beds… (no trippy swinging hammocks this time!)  I surveyed the damage my legs had sustained (the ongoing joke was that no one needed repellant when they were around me, because the mozzies would only go for me and leave everyone else alone. NOT fair.)

The next day, my last full day with my buddies and in Iquitos we sorted out how we were all going to get to where we needed to go next and  so forth. I needed to be home in Calca sunday night, in time for work on Monday, so I had no option but to fly back home via Lima. Flight booked, a lot less money in my account and all in all I was not happy to be leaving. That night we had a lovely last dinner together at a steak/grill place, craving for some non Peruvian meal. For about 5 dollars we got: A steak each (beef and lamb), lamb kebab, sausage, chicken, potatoes and salad. Needless to say we were well fed that night.  The last night in Iquitos came to a close at some club which had the worst, no exageration, DJ I have ever experienced. Hissignature sound was some high pitched waily screechy noise which drowned out just about everything else. We walked out of that club feeling as though we had just come out of a heavy metal concert. I savoured the walk back to the hostel, enjoying the last humid, balmy hot night before my return to the the freeeeeezing Andes.  Couldn´t really believe it was my last night with my travel buddies and it was rather hard saying goodbye the next morning….

I flew back home via Lima, arriving in Calca late that night. A strange mix of feelings, of being home but away from those I had become close to and that had made Calca home… still trying to figure it out now! Anyway, a trip full of memories, places, experiences and people I will never forget!!!