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Saturday, February 26, 2005
Friday, February 25, 2005
Getting in Touch With ... Shite
LOCATION: La Paz, Bolivia
DATE: 18/2/5
PARENTAL GUIDANCE: Longish with long words. Occasional use of "shite" and "poo".
If i were 5 again, i would have tugged at my mum's skirt & asked, loudly, "why do those people smell like poo?"
Mum would have shepherded me away, embarassed, blushing, apologising & telling me off for being rude.
Whether i was rude or not, the fact would still remain that the people smelled like poo.
....
My father is a doctor, & in my childhood i'd been exposed to many unusual things. I've seen (in detail) operations such as wart removals, or men being "sterilised". I also joined my dad on numerous trips to visit a dying patient, shrivelled, shrunken weird smelling, with cancer eating away part of their jaw. I used to sit & talk. Dad said it made them happier.
Yet even now, at 26yrs of age and after all that experience, I find the smell of poo (or shite, as i'll call it from now on) unbearable.
.....
I boarded the bus at the station in La Paz, excited that i'd been 2hours in the station with nothing yet stolen.
I had paid us$7 for a 7hour trip to the small mining town of Potosi. It was only us$3 more for the luxury line, but i am a cheap backpacker. The cheaper ticket also came with a mystery prize - humanity.
As i wandered up the aisle to my seat, there were families laden with gifts on their way to visit relatives, sisters with blankets across their knees, sharing a headphone each from their discman - lip-synching blissfully, little old ladies with all their goods wrapped in the multicolored blankets typical of this region, hoisted high up on their backs - the loose ends clung tightly underneath their chin.
One in particular, looked about 80 but was probably only 55 (women here seem to age really quickly) was fussing her two poorly dressed & snot-nosed young boys into the two seats opposite mine.
With unusual care, She untied her blanket-bundle & let it down on the seat next to the boys. It gurgled - yet another child. She then set about making herself comfortable in the middle of the aisle, as she had only enough money for two seats.
It was around this time that i began to smell shite. I checked the soles of both shoes, mentally noted that i'd had a shower that morning, then began looking elsewhere.
The little old lady in the aisle stood up to check something then sat down again, ...releasing a cloud of unmistakable shite-dust in my direction.
I gagged, not knowing what to do. I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. But no, the sisters were still singing and the family in front was still trying, unsuccessfully to put their bags in the overhead compartment
The bus hadn't yet left the station. I still had 10 hours of travelling ahead. I felt like screaming.
I took off my beanie and stuffed it over my nose. I even managed to swap to the window seat, enduring the near-freezing temperatures in a desperate struggle for fresh air. I looked out the window into the night, trying to think of something else.
......
The reason I had left Australia was that i was looking for experience; something raw, grounded in reality, a wake-up call.
And possibly at that moment, the man upstairs was trying to tell me that part of my experience was that i had to get in touch...with shite.
The shite of unusual situations, of unusual places. The shite of the lives of people who are immeasurably poorer than me, have no opportunities, and may even smell like shite, but who are still people.
.........
I'd like to close - in typical high school style - with an extraordinarily long quote that both increases my wordcount and has lots of long words that make me feel really important.
But bear with me. Im quoting it cos it actually is important, and i couldnt possibly say it better myself. (from one of my favourite books from one of my favourite authors)
"The objection to shit is a metaphysical [ooooh] one. The daily defecation session is daily proof of the unacceptability of creation."
"Either/Or: either shit is acceptable (in which case you dont lock yourself in the bathroom!) or we are created in an unacceptable manner."
"It follows, then, that [there exists an] aesthetic ideal of the categorical agreement with being in a world in which shit is denied and everyone acts as though it did not exist"
"This aesthetic ideal is called kitsch....."
breathe
"Repeated use [of this word - kitsch], however, has obliterated its original metaphysical meaning meaning"
"Kitsch is the absolute denial of shit, in both literal and figurative senses of the word;
"Kitsch excludes everything from its (pur)view which is essentially unacceptable in human existence"
....
The fundamental reason why im now travelling is that kitsch is exactly what im trying to avoid.
Amen
ps. promise, back to the fun stuff soon!
DATE: 18/2/5
PARENTAL GUIDANCE: Longish with long words. Occasional use of "shite" and "poo".
If i were 5 again, i would have tugged at my mum's skirt & asked, loudly, "why do those people smell like poo?"
Mum would have shepherded me away, embarassed, blushing, apologising & telling me off for being rude.
Whether i was rude or not, the fact would still remain that the people smelled like poo.
....
My father is a doctor, & in my childhood i'd been exposed to many unusual things. I've seen (in detail) operations such as wart removals, or men being "sterilised". I also joined my dad on numerous trips to visit a dying patient, shrivelled, shrunken weird smelling, with cancer eating away part of their jaw. I used to sit & talk. Dad said it made them happier.
Yet even now, at 26yrs of age and after all that experience, I find the smell of poo (or shite, as i'll call it from now on) unbearable.
.....
I boarded the bus at the station in La Paz, excited that i'd been 2hours in the station with nothing yet stolen.
I had paid us$7 for a 7hour trip to the small mining town of Potosi. It was only us$3 more for the luxury line, but i am a cheap backpacker. The cheaper ticket also came with a mystery prize - humanity.
As i wandered up the aisle to my seat, there were families laden with gifts on their way to visit relatives, sisters with blankets across their knees, sharing a headphone each from their discman - lip-synching blissfully, little old ladies with all their goods wrapped in the multicolored blankets typical of this region, hoisted high up on their backs - the loose ends clung tightly underneath their chin.
One in particular, looked about 80 but was probably only 55 (women here seem to age really quickly) was fussing her two poorly dressed & snot-nosed young boys into the two seats opposite mine.
With unusual care, She untied her blanket-bundle & let it down on the seat next to the boys. It gurgled - yet another child. She then set about making herself comfortable in the middle of the aisle, as she had only enough money for two seats.
It was around this time that i began to smell shite. I checked the soles of both shoes, mentally noted that i'd had a shower that morning, then began looking elsewhere.
The little old lady in the aisle stood up to check something then sat down again, ...releasing a cloud of unmistakable shite-dust in my direction.
I gagged, not knowing what to do. I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. But no, the sisters were still singing and the family in front was still trying, unsuccessfully to put their bags in the overhead compartment
The bus hadn't yet left the station. I still had 10 hours of travelling ahead. I felt like screaming.
I took off my beanie and stuffed it over my nose. I even managed to swap to the window seat, enduring the near-freezing temperatures in a desperate struggle for fresh air. I looked out the window into the night, trying to think of something else.
......
The reason I had left Australia was that i was looking for experience; something raw, grounded in reality, a wake-up call.
And possibly at that moment, the man upstairs was trying to tell me that part of my experience was that i had to get in touch...with shite.
The shite of unusual situations, of unusual places. The shite of the lives of people who are immeasurably poorer than me, have no opportunities, and may even smell like shite, but who are still people.
.........
I'd like to close - in typical high school style - with an extraordinarily long quote that both increases my wordcount and has lots of long words that make me feel really important.
But bear with me. Im quoting it cos it actually is important, and i couldnt possibly say it better myself. (from one of my favourite books from one of my favourite authors)
"The objection to shit is a metaphysical [ooooh] one. The daily defecation session is daily proof of the unacceptability of creation."
"Either/Or: either shit is acceptable (in which case you dont lock yourself in the bathroom!) or we are created in an unacceptable manner."
"It follows, then, that [there exists an] aesthetic ideal of the categorical agreement with being in a world in which shit is denied and everyone acts as though it did not exist"
"This aesthetic ideal is called kitsch....."
breathe
"Repeated use [of this word - kitsch], however, has obliterated its original metaphysical meaning meaning"
"Kitsch is the absolute denial of shit, in both literal and figurative senses of the word;
"Kitsch excludes everything from its (pur)view which is essentially unacceptable in human existence"
....
The fundamental reason why im now travelling is that kitsch is exactly what im trying to avoid.
Amen
ps. promise, back to the fun stuff soon!
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Hokay
Hokay peoples
Just arrived back in Lima. Staying in the party suburb of Barranco this time. Got a few days to kill here before leaving or Brazil on the 27th.
Im just a LITTLE bit excited about Brazil. Cant wait.
Anyway, got a backlog of things to post. Ive just been travelling through some remote parts of Bolivia for the last few days, then 36hrs of bussing to get here. Excellent. But ive had a shower and feeling daisy-fresh after scrubbing parts of me that havent seen daylight or soap for....... you dont want to know
Lots of love
Just arrived back in Lima. Staying in the party suburb of Barranco this time. Got a few days to kill here before leaving or Brazil on the 27th.
Im just a LITTLE bit excited about Brazil. Cant wait.
Anyway, got a backlog of things to post. Ive just been travelling through some remote parts of Bolivia for the last few days, then 36hrs of bussing to get here. Excellent. But ive had a shower and feeling daisy-fresh after scrubbing parts of me that havent seen daylight or soap for....... you dont want to know
Lots of love
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Sorry for the Absence
Hola Peoples
Sorry for the absence. I've been trekking across Bolivia. No internet.
So im going to do some backtracking for you.
watch this space
Sorry for the absence. I've been trekking across Bolivia. No internet.
So im going to do some backtracking for you.
watch this space
Monday, February 14, 2005
Down in .....Copacabana!
Time is ticking away. I have much to see and not much time in which to do it. Further complicated by the fact that i decided to do my washing in a small Bolivian town that does have electricity (a good start!), but seriously lacking in machines of the washing or drying variety.
I gave my new friend "Rocky" my washing at midday yesterday and he promised (smiling with all four teeth) that i would have it back at 10am today, weather permitting. Obviously, the weather didn´t permit and im still here.
It´s not such a bad thing because soon i will have clean clothes (!), and the little Bolivian city with no washing machines (a.k.a. Copàcabana) is actually fun.
Copacabana is situated on the west coast of Titicaca, south-east of Puno. Unlike Puno however, Copacabana is interesting, it´s moderately warm, and there are plenty of other gringos to meet and hang out with.
Actually, there are hordes of gringos here - some have taken to living here and selling handicrafts, growing dreadlocks and wearing incredibly innovative combinations of leg warmers, Jesus sandals and striped "happy" pants.
For the most part they seem happy, whether it be with the help of illicit substances or not, as they sit beside their mats of crafts and stare a little too intently at the wall across the street.
The locals however were preoccupied with substances of their own - alcohol. All this week is their annual festival, and the sound of out-of-tune trumpets can be heard for miles around.
By the time we went to investigate, in the mid-afternoon, it seemed that the entire town had gathered in the central plaza and was slowly going through the early stages of paralysis.
Those who still could, danced behind the band on a small circuit around the plaza. The women wore their typical "sunday best" white camisole, wide skirts and little hats, and the men in garish costumes studded with mirrors, and masks.
As we walked around, people were falling over themselves, lying asleep in the park and gutters. Children played in between the melee, making the most of the opportunity to laugh at their drunken parents.
We found a quiet corner and sat watching the commotion, and sharing a bottle of La Paz "bitter", until we were set upon by a local who introduced himself every 10minutes as "Mark" and spent the rest of the night practicing his English, loudly, in my left ear.
Soon I lost Maaike in a crowd of incredibly tall Bolivian musicians, who spoke very good English, and were spellbound by her Nordic charms.
Like anywhere around the world (e.g. Melbourne Cup Racing Carnival, Oktoberfest), a day´s drinking in the sun means brawling on the streets all night. Although it could have been interesting, I didnt really want to try my luck, so i rescued Maaike from her throng of admirers and headed to a quiet gringo bar for a beer.
Later on I walked home, and for lack of anything else to do, went to bed at 10pm. I decided that i was far more entertained than i ever had been in Puno. But still, i wondered how the gringos that lived here kept themselves amused day after day.
I concluded, just before drifting off to sleep, that the drugs here in Copacabana, must be good AND cheap.
I gave my new friend "Rocky" my washing at midday yesterday and he promised (smiling with all four teeth) that i would have it back at 10am today, weather permitting. Obviously, the weather didn´t permit and im still here.
It´s not such a bad thing because soon i will have clean clothes (!), and the little Bolivian city with no washing machines (a.k.a. Copàcabana) is actually fun.
Copacabana is situated on the west coast of Titicaca, south-east of Puno. Unlike Puno however, Copacabana is interesting, it´s moderately warm, and there are plenty of other gringos to meet and hang out with.
Actually, there are hordes of gringos here - some have taken to living here and selling handicrafts, growing dreadlocks and wearing incredibly innovative combinations of leg warmers, Jesus sandals and striped "happy" pants.
For the most part they seem happy, whether it be with the help of illicit substances or not, as they sit beside their mats of crafts and stare a little too intently at the wall across the street.
The locals however were preoccupied with substances of their own - alcohol. All this week is their annual festival, and the sound of out-of-tune trumpets can be heard for miles around.
By the time we went to investigate, in the mid-afternoon, it seemed that the entire town had gathered in the central plaza and was slowly going through the early stages of paralysis.
Those who still could, danced behind the band on a small circuit around the plaza. The women wore their typical "sunday best" white camisole, wide skirts and little hats, and the men in garish costumes studded with mirrors, and masks.
As we walked around, people were falling over themselves, lying asleep in the park and gutters. Children played in between the melee, making the most of the opportunity to laugh at their drunken parents.
We found a quiet corner and sat watching the commotion, and sharing a bottle of La Paz "bitter", until we were set upon by a local who introduced himself every 10minutes as "Mark" and spent the rest of the night practicing his English, loudly, in my left ear.
Soon I lost Maaike in a crowd of incredibly tall Bolivian musicians, who spoke very good English, and were spellbound by her Nordic charms.
Like anywhere around the world (e.g. Melbourne Cup Racing Carnival, Oktoberfest), a day´s drinking in the sun means brawling on the streets all night. Although it could have been interesting, I didnt really want to try my luck, so i rescued Maaike from her throng of admirers and headed to a quiet gringo bar for a beer.
Later on I walked home, and for lack of anything else to do, went to bed at 10pm. I decided that i was far more entertained than i ever had been in Puno. But still, i wondered how the gringos that lived here kept themselves amused day after day.
I concluded, just before drifting off to sleep, that the drugs here in Copacabana, must be good AND cheap.
Hello Bolivia
Today is valentines day. Excellent. A day that many of my friends unanimously agree is undoubtedly commercial, yet somehow it never fails to put the female half of my friends in a spin.
For example Maaike. After insisting, all day, that she wasnt part of the Valentine´s day hype, she decided to tease me for not having received any Valentine´s cards.
Do i care? No, not really. Im tough, honest.
****
I left Puno today, finally.
I was getting so tired of the monotony. Its particularly difficult to meet people, other backpackers, most of the travellers are old, or hard-to-meet couples.
So yes, it was an exhilarating feeling to finally be on that bus to Copacabana. It lasted about half an hour...until my right buttock began to go numb and i had to switch to my left.
Soon both legs had gone dead, and i was beginning to feel warm, but couldnt take off my jumper because i was squeezed in with the window on one side and my friend Maaike on the other, who was squashed up against one of the shortest, and widest Peruvian women i have yet seen.. and her bag of chickens.
The scenery, however, was something else.
Where the town of Puno was grey and dreary, the landscape just outside of Puno was suddenly infused with color. There were farming communities with simple houses on grassy plains, shepherds tending sheep and pigs, with a backdrop of mountains, clear blue skies and the crystalline shores of lake Titicaca.
After 2 1/2 hours, we finally reached the border town of Yunguyo. I cracked my back and looked around for some transport to the migration office at the Bolivia-Peru border, 2km away.
We were about to jump in a taxi when two pedal-tricycle owners offered to take Me, Maaike and our two new friends, and our backpacks to "la frontera" for a total of us$0.70. We clarified the price again - no mistake - then set down the quiet country-Peruvian road, in the front of our little pedal-tricycle, feet up on the front bar and the wind whistling in our hair....
However, there are few experiences that have made me feel more like a disgustingly wealthy foreigner intent on exploiting the cheap local labour, than having an uneducated, unprivileged and underpaid local man sweating away years of his life behind me while i sit back and enjoy the view. From now on, i´ll only use motors.
We turned a corner and a hill opened up before us, the Peru-Bolivia border visible at the summit. Our cyclist garbled something to his mate (who was cycling with our other two friends), who didnt hear and was already making his way up the hill.
We kept on, but as the hill steepened, we jumped out and helped to push.
Finally arriving at the top, everybody sweating and panting, we paid our cyclists the $0.70 we agreed upon, and watched their faces drop. We quadrupled their price as a goodwill, but still they werent happy.
I tried to explain to them that they shouldnt have told us a different price in the beginning, but of course they didnt understand... and thought that we were more westerners trying to exploit cheap local labour.
It was the first time it had happened in Peru and i was relieved that it would also be the last, as i happily crossed the border into Bolivia.
For example Maaike. After insisting, all day, that she wasnt part of the Valentine´s day hype, she decided to tease me for not having received any Valentine´s cards.
Do i care? No, not really. Im tough, honest.
****
I left Puno today, finally.
I was getting so tired of the monotony. Its particularly difficult to meet people, other backpackers, most of the travellers are old, or hard-to-meet couples.
So yes, it was an exhilarating feeling to finally be on that bus to Copacabana. It lasted about half an hour...until my right buttock began to go numb and i had to switch to my left.
Soon both legs had gone dead, and i was beginning to feel warm, but couldnt take off my jumper because i was squeezed in with the window on one side and my friend Maaike on the other, who was squashed up against one of the shortest, and widest Peruvian women i have yet seen.. and her bag of chickens.
The scenery, however, was something else.
Where the town of Puno was grey and dreary, the landscape just outside of Puno was suddenly infused with color. There were farming communities with simple houses on grassy plains, shepherds tending sheep and pigs, with a backdrop of mountains, clear blue skies and the crystalline shores of lake Titicaca.
After 2 1/2 hours, we finally reached the border town of Yunguyo. I cracked my back and looked around for some transport to the migration office at the Bolivia-Peru border, 2km away.
We were about to jump in a taxi when two pedal-tricycle owners offered to take Me, Maaike and our two new friends, and our backpacks to "la frontera" for a total of us$0.70. We clarified the price again - no mistake - then set down the quiet country-Peruvian road, in the front of our little pedal-tricycle, feet up on the front bar and the wind whistling in our hair....
However, there are few experiences that have made me feel more like a disgustingly wealthy foreigner intent on exploiting the cheap local labour, than having an uneducated, unprivileged and underpaid local man sweating away years of his life behind me while i sit back and enjoy the view. From now on, i´ll only use motors.
We turned a corner and a hill opened up before us, the Peru-Bolivia border visible at the summit. Our cyclist garbled something to his mate (who was cycling with our other two friends), who didnt hear and was already making his way up the hill.
We kept on, but as the hill steepened, we jumped out and helped to push.
Finally arriving at the top, everybody sweating and panting, we paid our cyclists the $0.70 we agreed upon, and watched their faces drop. We quadrupled their price as a goodwill, but still they werent happy.
I tried to explain to them that they shouldnt have told us a different price in the beginning, but of course they didnt understand... and thought that we were more westerners trying to exploit cheap local labour.
It was the first time it had happened in Peru and i was relieved that it would also be the last, as i happily crossed the border into Bolivia.
How to get out of a CRAP PLACE
If there were prizes for being indecisive, i think i would take top position.
I am now in Copacabana, Bolivia, the place i said i wasnt going to go to. Im on a whirlwind tour of Bolivia that´s going to include all of Copacabana, La Paz, Uyuni (beautiful salt plains) then into Chile for a bus ride back to Peru.
The great thing about Bolivia is that its hell cheap. Just had the most amazing lunch. Going to my ridiculously cheap hostel for a sleep.
Will try and wake up before sunset cos it looks like its going to be a good one!
What changed my mind? Well Maaike arrived from Cuzco and managed to talk some sense into me & successfully rescued me from the crap place that is Puno. I mean, even the name sounds like shite.
Will post on Machu Picchu soon. Really in need of sleep.
love to all
I am now in Copacabana, Bolivia, the place i said i wasnt going to go to. Im on a whirlwind tour of Bolivia that´s going to include all of Copacabana, La Paz, Uyuni (beautiful salt plains) then into Chile for a bus ride back to Peru.
The great thing about Bolivia is that its hell cheap. Just had the most amazing lunch. Going to my ridiculously cheap hostel for a sleep.
Will try and wake up before sunset cos it looks like its going to be a good one!
What changed my mind? Well Maaike arrived from Cuzco and managed to talk some sense into me & successfully rescued me from the crap place that is Puno. I mean, even the name sounds like shite.
Will post on Machu Picchu soon. Really in need of sleep.
love to all
Sunday, February 13, 2005
PUNO.......again
Yes, after a particularly unspectacular chain of events, im still in Puno.
Its kind of amusing that i´ve spent so much time dissing this town & im finding it so hard to leave.
I went to the bus station this morning to try to go to Copacabana - this town on the Bolivian side of Lake Titicaca. But its Sunday. And there are no buses.
So i went back to my hostel and explained, embarrasingly, why i needed to have my room again for one more night.... hooray.
Its probably been a good thing though, because i´ve been ignoring my budget for the last few days - playing the "what you dont know cant hurt you" game. So i finally sat down & checked out my finances. ouch. Its not that im dirt poor, its just that i like to have cash in reserve, just in case..
But if you do want to send donations... haha
Bolivia is cancelled, and instead i´ll be heading back up the coast of Peru; Arequipa, Nazca.. It´ll be good fun.
I do like peru a lot, but today i was watching a post-rio-carnaval report on tv today and im getting very very excited about Brazil. I cant wait for sun and warmth - all the places ive been so far in south america are unbelievably cold becuase of the altitude.
mmmmmmmmmbrazil.
take care all
Its kind of amusing that i´ve spent so much time dissing this town & im finding it so hard to leave.
I went to the bus station this morning to try to go to Copacabana - this town on the Bolivian side of Lake Titicaca. But its Sunday. And there are no buses.
So i went back to my hostel and explained, embarrasingly, why i needed to have my room again for one more night.... hooray.
Its probably been a good thing though, because i´ve been ignoring my budget for the last few days - playing the "what you dont know cant hurt you" game. So i finally sat down & checked out my finances. ouch. Its not that im dirt poor, its just that i like to have cash in reserve, just in case..
But if you do want to send donations... haha
Bolivia is cancelled, and instead i´ll be heading back up the coast of Peru; Arequipa, Nazca.. It´ll be good fun.
I do like peru a lot, but today i was watching a post-rio-carnaval report on tv today and im getting very very excited about Brazil. I cant wait for sun and warmth - all the places ive been so far in south america are unbelievably cold becuase of the altitude.
mmmmmmmmmbrazil.
take care all
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Puno and Lake Titicaca
Ive just returned from a tour of Lake Titicaca and its island; Amantani, Taquile - rich with pre-inca ruins, and the floating island of Uros.
It was ok. i guess. Great for the over-50s travellers.... Maybe it was just the cold - it always seems to dampen my excitement.....
It was freezing. We left the cove in Puno and it didnt stop raining for the rest of the day, making it hard to see sites across lake Titicaca.
After 4hrs we arrived on the island of Amantani. Its an amazing little island of around 8000 inhabitants, none of whom are over 5 1/2 feet. The entire town looks like a "lord of the rings" styled hobbit village, with tiny stone walkways, tiny houses with adjoining farming plots.
Our homestay was with a guy who declared himself to be the "tourism minister" for the island. I think somehow it was lost in translation from his native Quecha to Spanish to English.
He led us to this quaint adobe house, where he lived with his wife and four children. I had to bend double to get in any of the doorways. Fortunately the beds were normal size, and i took a short nap before lunch.
Lunch was a meagre affair; 1 egg, 3small potatos and a bowl of soup. I had to remind myself that i was "experiencing" and resisted the temptation to ask for more.
Later, our host insisted on showing us his new pants and tracksuit jacket and watch that he had been given by previous travellers who had stayed with him.... and tactfully wrote down his address "in case we wanted to get in touch".
Dinner was again small, potatos and rice affair, supplemented with slivers of fish for flavor. There was meant to be a party but it was rained out, and instead we sat inside and tried to teach the host´s son a bit of english - hard work, i think he was kind of simple.
I went to bed at 930 for lack of anything to do. These people led such simple lives. I felt bad for being bored, but soon forgot.
TAQUILE
Taquile was far more interesting, but for all the wrong reasons. We arrived at port, walked up a hill. saw some ruins. Ate lunch in a central plaza and had an unusually insightful lecture on the sexual politics of Taquile island, and Uros - the next island we were to visit.
He explained to us that both islands had a tradition of incest. On Taquile, he said, it was generally fathers with daughters, but on Uros, it was brothers with sisters. I felt sick. I and wanted to doubt him, but his explanation was quite similar in both Spanish and English.
ive done a google search but found nothing. i cant verify these claims, the people dont look particularly in-bred....
Anyway, with that in mind, i was more than happy to leave Taquile and be on the way back to Puno.
UROS
Uros was cool. Reeds grow 10m from the ocean floor. The islanders take these reeds and pile them in a criss-cross fashion to a thickness of around 1.5m. The people fish and sell it at the market for rice and potatos. They drink the water directly from titicaca and apparently dont suffer cholera becuase after every meal, they eat the lower part of the reed plant. Again cant verify.
After taking lots of photos, then being asked to pay 1sole (50cents) for each one, we motored back to puno´s port.
PUNO
back in puno. I found a wicked little bar last night with a dj who has an amazing soulful house collection. sat and drank baileys with my new friends Carmen and Alex. excellent.
going to the bolivian town of copacabana tomorrow. Im going to make an effor to get to the solar de uyuni,.. these massive salt plains in the south of bolivia. expecting more excitement. let you know how it goes.
cal
It was ok. i guess. Great for the over-50s travellers.... Maybe it was just the cold - it always seems to dampen my excitement.....
It was freezing. We left the cove in Puno and it didnt stop raining for the rest of the day, making it hard to see sites across lake Titicaca.
After 4hrs we arrived on the island of Amantani. Its an amazing little island of around 8000 inhabitants, none of whom are over 5 1/2 feet. The entire town looks like a "lord of the rings" styled hobbit village, with tiny stone walkways, tiny houses with adjoining farming plots.
Our homestay was with a guy who declared himself to be the "tourism minister" for the island. I think somehow it was lost in translation from his native Quecha to Spanish to English.
He led us to this quaint adobe house, where he lived with his wife and four children. I had to bend double to get in any of the doorways. Fortunately the beds were normal size, and i took a short nap before lunch.
Lunch was a meagre affair; 1 egg, 3small potatos and a bowl of soup. I had to remind myself that i was "experiencing" and resisted the temptation to ask for more.
Later, our host insisted on showing us his new pants and tracksuit jacket and watch that he had been given by previous travellers who had stayed with him.... and tactfully wrote down his address "in case we wanted to get in touch".
Dinner was again small, potatos and rice affair, supplemented with slivers of fish for flavor. There was meant to be a party but it was rained out, and instead we sat inside and tried to teach the host´s son a bit of english - hard work, i think he was kind of simple.
I went to bed at 930 for lack of anything to do. These people led such simple lives. I felt bad for being bored, but soon forgot.
TAQUILE
Taquile was far more interesting, but for all the wrong reasons. We arrived at port, walked up a hill. saw some ruins. Ate lunch in a central plaza and had an unusually insightful lecture on the sexual politics of Taquile island, and Uros - the next island we were to visit.
He explained to us that both islands had a tradition of incest. On Taquile, he said, it was generally fathers with daughters, but on Uros, it was brothers with sisters. I felt sick. I and wanted to doubt him, but his explanation was quite similar in both Spanish and English.
ive done a google search but found nothing. i cant verify these claims, the people dont look particularly in-bred....
Anyway, with that in mind, i was more than happy to leave Taquile and be on the way back to Puno.
UROS
Uros was cool. Reeds grow 10m from the ocean floor. The islanders take these reeds and pile them in a criss-cross fashion to a thickness of around 1.5m. The people fish and sell it at the market for rice and potatos. They drink the water directly from titicaca and apparently dont suffer cholera becuase after every meal, they eat the lower part of the reed plant. Again cant verify.
After taking lots of photos, then being asked to pay 1sole (50cents) for each one, we motored back to puno´s port.
PUNO
back in puno. I found a wicked little bar last night with a dj who has an amazing soulful house collection. sat and drank baileys with my new friends Carmen and Alex. excellent.
going to the bolivian town of copacabana tomorrow. Im going to make an effor to get to the solar de uyuni,.. these massive salt plains in the south of bolivia. expecting more excitement. let you know how it goes.
cal
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
You only Live Once
Sometimes things just come together.
I´m in Puno, chilling on the internet
AND
New Kids On The Block´s "Step By Step" is playing on the radio.
I think im going to cry.
I´m in Puno, chilling on the internet
AND
New Kids On The Block´s "Step By Step" is playing on the radio.
I think im going to cry.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Puno is WEST of Titicaca
Hi gang!
Just arrived in Puno. Im already realizing that its remarkably cheaper than Cuzco... Ive hooked up a hostel single room with ensuite bathroom with HOT water, walking distance from the city for only $us4 per night. Rad.
Sad to leave Cuzco because i met some really beautiful people there. But as always, time to move on.
Its carnival time outside (no naked dancing girls like in Brazil), but the music is kind of nice and out the window of my internet cafe i can see 4 westerners in "North Face" jackets and big cameras slung around their necks. Its always good, security-wise, to know that somebody here looks much much richer than me!
By the way, Puno is on the WEST coast of Titicaca. Ive been telling everybody for the last week that its east. Some kids cant do left and right. I have trouble with east and west. Its hereditary.
Im hoping to spend a couple of days on an island in Titicaca, then my next major destination will be Uyuni for the salt plains (thanks to Evelyn for the recommendation). At present i have no f%$**n idea how im going to get there, so anybody with any ideas, feel free to contact me :)
Got to get something to eat.
love and happiness to all
Monday, February 07, 2005
I got Photos
4 hours of hard labour.
Check the photos.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/calinbrasil/
p.s. if ur wondering... Junglistposse is my (stage name)
Check the photos.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/calinbrasil/
p.s. if ur wondering... Junglistposse is my (stage name)
Inca Trail is Not So Bad
Hello there all.
Sorry for the vitriol from a couple of days ago.
To be honest, the inca trail was awesome. I really shouldnt complain. Got some great photos, met some fantastic people, am now amazingly fit. Ill write on it in a bit.
In addition, after 5 hours of debate yesterday, we managed to make our tour operator see that they were at fault and they refunded us some money - $us18 each. Its not the money its the principle! :)
(Many thanks to Sophie for being master interpreter)
We came, we saw, & we educated. How very imperialist.
Anyway, feeling very chilled right now. Im in my internet den - away from the water-bomb throwing fiends, (Its water-carnival time in cuzco right now), and Roxette is playing on the stereo.
Oh yeah, and ive finally recovered from a really annoying bout of diahorrhea. Many thanks to my dad for the array of drugs he sent with me!
Its going to be a short one again, cos im trying to upload the bulk of my photos to some internet share site. Will let youse know how that goes.
Off to Puno tomorrow. Will be hanging out on Lake Titicaca for a while, and hopefully onto Uyuni, which is some massive salt flat in Bolivia.
Love to you all
dont get diahorrhea cos it sucks. ass.
cal
Sorry for the vitriol from a couple of days ago.
To be honest, the inca trail was awesome. I really shouldnt complain. Got some great photos, met some fantastic people, am now amazingly fit. Ill write on it in a bit.
In addition, after 5 hours of debate yesterday, we managed to make our tour operator see that they were at fault and they refunded us some money - $us18 each. Its not the money its the principle! :)
(Many thanks to Sophie for being master interpreter)
We came, we saw, & we educated. How very imperialist.
Anyway, feeling very chilled right now. Im in my internet den - away from the water-bomb throwing fiends, (Its water-carnival time in cuzco right now), and Roxette is playing on the stereo.
Oh yeah, and ive finally recovered from a really annoying bout of diahorrhea. Many thanks to my dad for the array of drugs he sent with me!
Its going to be a short one again, cos im trying to upload the bulk of my photos to some internet share site. Will let youse know how that goes.
Off to Puno tomorrow. Will be hanging out on Lake Titicaca for a while, and hopefully onto Uyuni, which is some massive salt flat in Bolivia.
Love to you all
dont get diahorrhea cos it sucks. ass.
cal
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Fuckin Inca Trail
Fuck
Im Aussie. i can use fuck ... liberally.
Ive just returned from the Inca Trail and im fuckin pissed off.
The big picture is that im amazed that i have finally visited Machu Picchu, one of my childhood dreams. That ive been spellbound by the architectural elegance and the sheer intellect of the inca people.
The finer detail reveals, however, that im using dialup in an expensive little town at the base of Machu Picchu, instead of cable internet & hot showers & celebratory beers in my hostel in Cuzco (3.5 hrs away).
What happened?
My tour company didnt book us for the train back to cuzco. It left 2hrs ago. My tour guide is extremely intent on passing the buck. Id called the tourist agency and they have been less than helpful.
Yes, we have argued ourselves into a position where we have dinner, hostel overnight & breakfast tomorrow. But weve (cant find apostrophe key) had to fight for every last thing.
People here in Peru seem not to have heard of the principle of Bad Press. I, along with my unlucky compatriots, will educate them when return... Lonely Planet,.. Internet...
The whole trip actually, has been a comedy of errors, including the "gringos" in our tour group (us) being charged $60us extra, and the supposedly waterproof tents leaking miserably last night.
Yes. Education is the key.
Im looking forward to yelling. The only problem is that my carefully crafted argument in English will be lost on them, and my Spanish ability entitles me an intelligence quotient slightly higher than a 4-year-old.
Ill write more when ive calmed down a bit, fill you in on the aftermath, try and post some of the amazing photos ive taken & tell you about the GOOD THINGS that happened on my Inca Trail.
Lots of love to you all. Especially to those of you in melbourne experiencing all that crap weather!
Im Aussie. i can use fuck ... liberally.
Ive just returned from the Inca Trail and im fuckin pissed off.
The big picture is that im amazed that i have finally visited Machu Picchu, one of my childhood dreams. That ive been spellbound by the architectural elegance and the sheer intellect of the inca people.
The finer detail reveals, however, that im using dialup in an expensive little town at the base of Machu Picchu, instead of cable internet & hot showers & celebratory beers in my hostel in Cuzco (3.5 hrs away).
What happened?
My tour company didnt book us for the train back to cuzco. It left 2hrs ago. My tour guide is extremely intent on passing the buck. Id called the tourist agency and they have been less than helpful.
Yes, we have argued ourselves into a position where we have dinner, hostel overnight & breakfast tomorrow. But weve (cant find apostrophe key) had to fight for every last thing.
People here in Peru seem not to have heard of the principle of Bad Press. I, along with my unlucky compatriots, will educate them when return... Lonely Planet,.. Internet...
The whole trip actually, has been a comedy of errors, including the "gringos" in our tour group (us) being charged $60us extra, and the supposedly waterproof tents leaking miserably last night.
Yes. Education is the key.
Im looking forward to yelling. The only problem is that my carefully crafted argument in English will be lost on them, and my Spanish ability entitles me an intelligence quotient slightly higher than a 4-year-old.
Ill write more when ive calmed down a bit, fill you in on the aftermath, try and post some of the amazing photos ive taken & tell you about the GOOD THINGS that happened on my Inca Trail.
Lots of love to you all. Especially to those of you in melbourne experiencing all that crap weather!
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