Photo of the week – High altitude flamingos

Posted on December 12, 2009 by theblondewanderer

There are times when traveling that we learn random facts we otherwise never would have known.  For example, I always thought that flamingos were tropical birds found near the equator.  You can imagine my surprise on our journey through the high altitude, wild plains of Bolivia when – there they were.  Flamingos by the hundreds, feeding off micro-organisms in shallow, salty lakes in the most lonesome stretches of country I have ever seen.  These amazing, graceful birds seemed most of the time to be the only living thing on these shivering, windswept plains.  Southern Bolivia looks more like the surface of the moon than the surface of the earth.  Beauty sometimes shows up in the most unlikely places.

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Bolivia – Saving the souls of the….cars?

Posted on December 10, 2009 by theblondewanderer

After a surprisingly uneventful border crossing into Bolivia, we arrived at Copacabana anxious for our first taste of Bolivian culture.  A tourist town bordering Lake Titicaca, the real Bolivia was hidden behind pizza joints, tour companies and hostels.

A one sentence blurb in our guidebook brought us curiously to the town cathedral.  The building itself is impressive – a huge, white Moorish-style cathedral and large brick courtyard seem out of place in Copacabana against the brown mud-brick buildings and seedy drinking establishments surrounding it.

While the church itself is beautiful from the outside, it is very typically South American from the inside, crammed with gold and silver, the strange (at least I think so) Madonna figures whose dresses flair like a large, glowing insect, and the inevitable bloody Christ statue.  But what really drew us here was the Benediciones de Movilidades, or the “Blessing of the Cars” ceremony that takes place here twice daily.

It’s no exaggeration that South Americans have some interesting – some might call semi-fanatic – religious practices.  In the case of Bolivians, this fanaticism spills over into their car ownership as well.  Not that I blame them.  Bolivia has some of the most hair-raising roads in all of South America.  Most of them are dirt roads, prone to wash-outs in rainy season, while climbing over 15,000 ft mountains passes  I’d bless my car too.

The front of the church is lined with booth after booth selling bundles of fresh flowers, silver-framed images of patron saints and colorful plastic garlands in red, yellow, orange, pink and white.  Sad-faced women in what could be Montana square-dancing

That's one decked-out van

outfits minus the hats:  ruffles upon ruffles of brightly colored knee-length skirts and checkered aprons, felt boleros perched on their heads.  The supply of ornaments seems to far exceed the demand, but lends a festive atmosphere to the street.

I parked myself on the church steps and watched the car owners prepare for blessings of their cars. They quickly set about preparing their vehicles.  Bundles of flowers were lashed to mirrors.  More elaborate arrangements of red, yellow, pink and white tied to a miniature reed boat were fastened to the grill.   Garlands, ribbons and pompoms were painstakingly hand-picked, the family members chiding each other on where each should be placed.  Garlands of roses were strung across every hood and trunk, each flower painstakingly set into place by devotional hands.  A final and necessary touch, a sprinkling of rose petals.  I watched their painstaking preparation for almost an hour.

At the appointed time of 2:30, three priests appeared with large pails.  I watched one approach the first car in the line.  The

Holy pail, holy flower, holy blessing

family gathered reverently, heads bowed in prayer, in front of his matching white bucket and robe.  Muttering his blessings, he showered the family with holy water from his holy bucket with an equally festive plastic holy flower.  Next, he set to work on the car, working his way slowly around it, sprinkling each panel with the holy water.

Photographers appeared from nowhere and hovered nearby with ancient cameras hoping to be commissioned for this momentous event.  A few were, snapping pictures of the proud family with their newly baptized ride.  I was amazed at a booth near the entrance of the church selling rolls of film.  People still use film?  Then an elderly grandfather of one of the nearer (and more decked out) cars approached the stand to buy a roll of film for a camera I swear came from the 1960′s.  He didn’t even know how to load it – it was a family effort before the film was in place.

When the priest had completed his blessings and moved on down the line to the next vehicle in need of soul-saving, the occupants celebrated with champagne.  Not for themselves, but for the blessed car – it was doused with the finest, and only, cheap champagne offered for sale alongside the pom-poms and the madonna figures.

Wandering through the shiny hunks of consecrated metal, I spied a bus in the back of the pack.  In it’s window was a typical sign announcing it’s destination:  La Paz.  I hoped that whoever owned the bus I would take to La Paz believed in this ritual – we were headed there the next day in a local bus.  The cars here seem to need all the help they can get!

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Hitting the Trail

Posted on December 3, 2009 by theblondewanderer

The tourist trail, that is.  After 7 weeks in Cusco, 6 of which were simply being – or almost living – in Cusco, it was time to move on.  Our volunteer assignment finished, we headed for Lake Titicaca, on the border of Peru and Bolivia.  In fact, both sides say that the Titi is for their side and the caca – well, that’s about the OTHER side of the lake.  In actuality, Titicaca is usually translated Rock of the Puma.  No matter how the Peruvians and Bolivians poke fun at each other, Lake Titicaca is a site worth visiting.  I only wish I could say that for the city of Puno on the Peruvian side.  Puno was simply a means to an end, the launching point for our two-day trip around Lake Titicaca.  But they do make a mean roast chicken for Thanksgiving dinner.

For you fact-hunters out there, Lake Titicaca is the second largest lake in South America and one of the highest navigable lakes in the world at 3820 meters (that’s around 12,600 feet).  We had become acclimated to the elevation in Cusco, but could feel that extra 500m in every breath.

Islands and houses made entirely of reeds

Island and houses made entirely of reeds

Tours of Lake Titicaca can feel more than a bit overly touristy and in the worst sense exploitative of the local population.  Our first stop was the network of floating islands called Uros.  Here the islanders are dressed in their traditional dress, and explain how the floating islands and everything on them are constructed of native reeds harvested in the lake.  It is fascinating that people have been living this way on the lake for thousands of years.  But tourism is clearly now their one and only industry.  We chatted with the family who showed us their tiny hut where the parents, two children and the grandmother shared a single bed.  They explained that their livelihood depended solely on the tourist visits and the handicrafts that we buy (tough salesmanship).  Floating islands do exist that allow no tourists, and still live in traditional ways as fish farmers.  It was an interesting stop, and the construction of the buildings and boats held our attention.

After our uber-tourist stop, we were off to the island of Amantani for an overnight stay with a local family.  Two islands provide

Boats, also made entirely of reeds!

homestays with local families, and we were headed to the lesser-known of the two islands.  Our hosts, Amelia and Serafina (mother and daughter) were gracious hosts.  We ate three typical vegetarian meals with our family, cooked in their mud brick kitchen over a small wood-fired stove.  Serafina spoke very little Spanish, so all translation from Spanish to her native Quechua was done through the 17-year-old Amelia.

After a hike up to one of the two ceremonial sites at the top of the mountains on Amatani in the bitter cold and wind of sunset (but worth the views of the surrounding lake and mountains as seen at the beginning of the post), we warmed up with some traditional Peruvian dancing.  Teetering on the edge between another uber-touristy experience and good, clean island fun, Amelia dressed us in Amatani festival garb and we were taught traditional island dances accompanied by two sets of musicians.  We were breathing hard after each dance, wearing the heavy clothes and breathing the

Amelia helping me get dressed

thin air.  The clothes were very warm though – it was easy to see why they chose heavy woolen skirts and shawls for the cold, windy island nights.

We danced our fill and snuggled up in our warm beds piled with blankets – no such thing as central heating here!  The following day we were off to Taquile, the other main island that welcomed tourists.  Taquile was a disappointment after our stay on Amatani – it had been welcoming tourists for much longer and boasted restaurants and even a hotel.  Still, it was a beautiful stroll around the island and we had great quinoa soup and trout for lunch.

For a few moments we feared we might be staying on Taquile for longer than we expected, as the captain tried and failed to start the boat 2, then 3, then 4 times.  But perseverance won out and the engine finally kicked over, and we began the slow journey back to Puno.

Our homestay at Amatani made this trip for us, a day trip to the floating islands and then Taquile (standard 1-day trip) alone would have been disappointing.  The lake itself, with its beautiful vistas and ancient peoples and customs, draws people from all over the world and is worth a visit.  Plus it’s a great chance to perfect your Peruvian dance moves – and who doesn’t have the desire to do just that!

Aren't we handsome?

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Something to be thankful for

Posted on November 29, 2009 by theblondewanderer

It was the day before Thanksgiving in the US and our last day volunteering with Peru’s Challenge. We had spent an emotional morning at the school – teaching our last set of classes to the eager and enthusiastic kids and taking part in the ceremony for the volunteers that were leaving (including us), receiving countless hugs and goodbyes from kids and teachers alike.  But nothing I had done in those three weeks prepared me for our last afternoon.

It was my first and only home visit during our three short week assignment.  My Spanish skills had more or less relegated me to Tallerras for my afternoon visits – working with the women’s handicraft cooperative to keep track of the comings and goings of the materials.  I had asked to be included in the home visits that final day, and the volunteer coordinator cheerfully moved around the schedule so that I could participate.  Bill was along as well.

Happy with their new bed!

Our main purpose was to deliver and set up a bed at one home and a small two-burner propane stove at another.  We arrived at the first house where we were to set up the bed.   We climbed up on the precarious second floor balcony (only about two feet wide) on an uneven and tipsy ladder, hauling the parts of the bed frame up with us.  It was to be the bed for the two little girls who lived there – 4 and 6 years old.  We set up their bed alongside the only other bed in the room.  Presumably before adding a second bed, the mother and father as well as the two girls and their baby sister all shared the one bed in the tiny, drafty bedroom.

The six-year-old was thrilled with her new bed, and helped us set it up by bringing the heavy support boards over to us one by one.  When we were finished the two girls jumped on their new bed, exclaiming “mi cama, mi cama” (my bed, my bed) and giving us huge smiles as we snapped a picture.  At the same time though, the state of the house was concerning.  Piles of dirty clothes lined the walls of the small room, and there was no other furniture to speak of.

The local social worker, Iris, (employed by Peru’s Challenge) was with us and started to talk to the mother in the dirt backyard downstairs.  At first she admonished her for not feeding her kids properly or washing their clothes.  But slowly the mother’s story started to fall out of her mouth, and it was a devastating one.  The woman herself, who was carrying her 18 month old daughter slung across her back, explained that she had tumors on her stomach that caused her constant pain.  Most days she wasn’t able to eat.  Every activity, including cooking and taking care of her daughters, caused her pain.  The doctors said she needed an operation to remove the tumors, but there was no one to watch here three children while she was in the hospital.  She didn’t know where to turn.

A week's supply of food

A week's supply of food

As she kept explaining her situation, tears streamed down her face.  She hadn’t fed her children because her husband had left a week before to look for work.  He left her with only 5 soles (less than $2) for twelve days.   She had no money to buy food for her children.  The baby hadn’t started walking yet at 18 months – the root cause was anemia and malnutrition.  The happy moment we had felt from delivering a much-needed bed to this house was suddenly and  overshadowed by the plight of this woman and her three beautiful daughters.  The budding photojournalist in me wanted to capture this woman’s pain and suffering in hopes that others could see it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to lift my camera.  Instead I walked outside onto the muddy road, unable to hold back my own tears.

Lauren, who works for Peru’s challenge, took the woman’s hand and said “Podemos ayudarte” (We will help you).  We went along with Lauren and Iris to buy her supplies from the tiny tienda next door.  For 25 soles ($9) we left with 10 eggs, two kilos of rice, one of sugar, two cans of tuna, several packages of noodles, and cooking oil.  This was meant to last her and her family for a week until her husband returned, hopefully with money.  I felt a huge pang of sorrow or guilt – I’m not sure which – when I realized that even with our “tight” travel budget, we wouldn’t hesitate to spend 25 soles for a single meal in Cusco and then pat ourselves on the back for being so thrifty.

The most troubling part is that this woman’s story isn’t unique.  Other volunteers had come back from home visits with equal or more terrifying stories of long-term domestic violence, kids responsible for cooking the family’s single meal over the open kitchen fire, and on and on.  I knew Peru’s Challenge would keep helping this family long after we left, and for that I was thankful.

This visit happened only one day before Thanksgiving.  Here we were, able to visit the other side of the world, and interact with people who have never been more than 50 miles from their home.  I miss being home for Thanksgiving.  I miss cooking pumpkin pies and the smell of turkey just out of the oven.  I miss being with family and friends around a warm table where laughter fills the air.  But this Thanksgiving, I didn’t take any of it for granted – even if we were relegated to substituting roasted chicken and fries from a local polleria for our less-than-complete Thanksgiving dinner.

It’s easy during the holidays to say things like “think of those less fortunate than yourself”.  But when a person is looking at you with pain, hunger and sorrow written on their face, that is when you truly realize how thankful you should be for every day of your life.  For the food you can afford to put on the table.  For your friends and family that would go out of their way to help you when you need it most.

You don’t have to go halfway around the world to discover what you should be thankful for.  But I encourage you – listen to someone in need.  Do what you can to help them.  And don’t forget to count your blessings  – they are plentiful!

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

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Photo of the week – Pumamarca kids

Posted on November 25, 2009 by theblondewanderer

Bill and I have been spending the last three weeks volunteering in an indigenous community outside of Cusco.  I think that writer’s block has overcome me when writing about our volunteer assignment.  Some of my favorite blog posts are often my photo of the week.  No, not because I’m too lazy to write – OK, sometimes.  But more often because pictures tell a story much better than I can. (Isn’t there a saying about this? hmmm).

Yesterday we spent the morning administering quarterly parasite medication at the Peru’s Challenge Pumamarca school.  This is necessary since the only source of water in the village outside of the school is a parasite-ridden ditch running through the town.  That coupled with the children going barefoot or only in sandals most of the year leaves them susceptible to parasites.   Peru’s Challenge donates the medication for quarterly treatments, keeping the kids healthy throughout the year.

Kids as young as seven need to swallow the two icky tasting parasite pills – not their favorite activity.  After lots of “Por favor”s and “Pasa, pasa” (swallow, swallow), each of the kids was rewarded with a lollypop before being weighed and measured to track their growth progress.  Obviously the bribes worked!

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