Peru: Spanish Intensive and Cultural Immersion

And so it began.  On Monday morning I made my way to the dock in Puno, scouting for any boat that would take me to the islands in the world´s highest navigable lake.  I jumped on board with a mix of tourists and locals, and we started our journey towards the horizon.   Lake Titikaka has recently been named to the ¨New 7 Natural Wonders of the World, a fact that was promenaded throughout posters on our boat.  The first island on our tour was Isla Flotante, literally meaning: The Floating Island.  Which is exactly what it is.The houses are made of the same thing the island is: incredibly buoyant reeds called turturo, which have been laid down in the lake to make the island float.  The reeds on the bottom continuously rot, so new reeds are applied often.  My fascination with alternative architecture (remember the yurt) was peaked at the innovation from these island dwellers.  From boats to houses to kindling to toys, the turturo reeds are utilized  for everything.We continued on for the three hour journey to Isla Amantani, where we would all be spending the night.  As we neared the harbor, The Captain of our humble ship came and sat down next to me, inquiring if I had a family to stay with for the night.  I replied I did not, and The Captain invited me to stay with his family, all meals included, for around $8.  Honored, I obliged.Three other travelers were staying with The Captain as well, all of us almost exactly the same age.  A  couple (Chilean and French), a German girl, and me.  Once off the boat we all loaded our packs and followed The Captain´s wife through the cobblestone paths to her house.  Isla Amantani is a giant garden dotted with homes.  There are no cars, only well constructed cobblestone paths throughout the entire island.  Most, if not all, the food is grown on the island, and it makes for quite the landscape.When we settled into the house, we were served a delicous lunch of soup, fresh fish, potatoes, and rice.  Shortly after we began our hike to the ruins.The cobblestone was easily followed as it meandered up the hill out of the center of town.  Esteban (from Chile) continuously asked locals for directions in any case just to make conversation.  An incredibly nice guy, he even helped a woman carry a large bag full of clothes that she was walking to sell at the ruins.  (Picture below)We marveled at the view at the top of the hill for about an hour, and then the afternoon air began to get very cold.  A series of vendors had lined up along the path by then, and in my frenzied state of cold, I bought a ridiculous Alpaca sweater.  A bit flashy, it kept me incredibly warm, and afforded me multiple compliments from passing tourists.  Sadly, I do not have a picture.  The view from the top of the ruins: (one view, at least)

After the hike was another delicious dinner, and shortly after dinner was a party in town.  All the other tourists´came dressed up in local attire, and the four of us had the only family who didn´t insist we come to the party dressed up.  I was a bit relieved, most of them were out of costume by the end of the night.  The clothes did seem a bit difficult to dance in.

It was raining heavily once the party wrapped up, and the four of us walked a hurried pace back to The Captain´s house, getting lost a few times on the way (most of the houses didn´t have electricity, and the path was incredibly dark).

The next day included a trip to another island, Isla Taquile.  The Island did not look like much from the dock, but alas, it was even more beautiful than Amantani, which was hard to beat.  Unfortunately, do to this fact, I did not bring my camera, but imagine the pictures above with better weather and a more vibrant shade of blue from Lake Titikaka.  I encourage you to scout the internet for photos of this island, it is incredibly beautiful.

In any case, I am back on the mainland, in the port city of Puno.  My bus back to Cuzco leaves at 6am tomorrow, and tomorrow evening I have my third Clase de Cocinar at Fairplay, which is always a blast, something I cannot miss.  John has told me this specific class is special, where the teachers each cook a three course meal, competing against one another.

Thursday and Friday shall be my last days of spanish classes at Fairplay.  I do plan to play volleyball on Saturday as a kind of last hurrah, it is very sad and hard to leave the community at the school.

Monday I plan to fly to Lima and then explore the North of Peru, all the while compiling my portfolio for this course.

All is very well, more to come! Ciao!

 

Sunday marked Hermando´s birthday, who turned 61.  He was joined by his wife, three daughters, four grandchildren, Dutch-Belgian son-in-law, and two foreigners.  All of whom live in the same compound, and happily supported him on his big day.

In Peru, the birthday cake is served for breakfast, and in this case also some of the most delicious hot chocolate that I have ever tasted.  Around a dozen people sat around the dining room table for the sweet meal, but since most people in attendance had to go to work, the celebratory meal only lasted around fifteen minutes.  The big meal was to come for lunch.

At one o´clock, the same party crowd re-assembled, but this time for a proper feast.  Hermando´s wife had cooked what I believe was an entire pig in the communal oven on the street, and everyone in attendance received a sizeable hunk that took up a majority of the plate.  As well as the swine, potato, corn and roasted Cuy sat waiting to be eaten.  Cuy  is Spanish for guinea pig, and is considered a delicacy in Peru.  It is only brought out for the most special of occasions.

At first glance the guinea pig looked like a potato, but on flipping the ¨potato¨ upside down it revealed what appeared to be claws, what was most certainly a rib cage, and  a few internal organs that were black in color and incredibly un-appetizing. 

The Peruvians dug right in.  Peeling off the skin and digging deep with their hands.  Cuy had been described to me as ¨a lot of bones, and very little meat,¨which is exactly what it was. 

My first step was to peel the skin off the beast, which required me to cradle the rib cage and still-intact organs in my palm, and violently tear the leathery skin from the remaining part of the animal.  This was perhaps the most unsettling part, having bare guinea pig bones graze my hand, and being ever-so-careful to stay as far away from the exposed organ as I could.  Once the skin was off, it was possible to see what I was searching for: tiny strings of meat that lay just under the skin.

The meat is actually very tasty.  It resembles chicken in color and texture, but is chewier, and from an uglier animal.  The process of  getting through tough skin and internal organs was really the most disturbing and difficult part of the whole endeavor.  The Peruvians at the table devoured the entire thing, skin and all, but left the bones.

While those who were on their lunch break returned to work, those of us with nothing else to do sat in the kitchen through the rain, and drank too sweet Peruvian wine amid conversation.  For his birthday, I gave Hermando a Rite in the Rain notebook, which with a pencil you can actually write in the rain.  I thought it might come in handy when he surveys his fields during the wet season, which it shall be for at least a few more months.  More to come, Ciao!

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