Peru

Atravesando Fronteras

by Ekua on October 6, 2009 · 4 comments in Bolivia,Peru

July 30, 2009

Overland border crossing is all about formalities and symbolism. Real border crossing happens when you dive into a country’s customs, food, or any other aspect of a culture that pushes you to do something you haven’t done before. Nevertheless, I’m always intrigued by borders. Years of imperialism led up to lines in the middle of  nowhere; lines that can be very significant, but often seem trivial when you cross them.

Leaving Peru, entering Bolivia

The drive to Copacabana was scenic as promised. There were wonderful views of the sparkling blue Lake Titicaca the entire way. When we arrived at the border, I hurried ahead knowing that I would take longer than most because I had to get a visa. I didn’t want to be left behind.

Getting stamped out of Peru was fairly easy. The only person who had trouble was a guy from Columbia. They eventually let him through, and he explained later that they wanted a copy of his criminal records, just because he had a Columbian passport. He said it was not the first time he had issues like that at customs.

I walked across the border. The only noticeable difference were the red and white flags replaced with red, yellow, and green ones. The process for U.S. citizens to get a Bolivian visa is pretty detailed. It’s all about reciprocity. But the governmental issues don’t seem to trickle down to the ground level. The Bolivian border officials were friendly and laid back. They asked me where I was from and responded with an “Ah, Americana!” and a smile. Their one request was that I make copies of everything– my visa application, yellow fever certification, passport pictures, and passport. There was a cheap place to do it next door.

Car blessing in Copacabana

As I was finishing up with the visa and getting stamped into Bolivia, I bumped into the one other American in the group. He and his friend from England had forgotten to get stamped out of Peru and had to go back across the border.

We all got back on the bus. The driver assumed everyone was there and began to drive.  Suddenly there were shouts from the back, “Americano! Americano!” We almost left the American guy behind. A few days later I heard similar story from another traveler. I think it’s not uncommon for buses to leave people behind at the border. The man ran on to the bus, very frazzled but clearly happy to have made it on.

When we arrived in Copacabana, I was ripped off by a taxi driver. I asked to be taken to a hostel I’d found in my guidebook. It took under a minute to drive there and the taxi driver charged me way too much. But it was a trivial amount by American standards so I let it go. The hostel turned out to be really shoddy and looked like a place where I’d freeze at night. Realizing that Copacabana wasn’t very large, I decided to walk through town where I found a hostel that was recommended by two English girls.

Parade Rehearsal

It wasn’t very nice either, but it wasn’t as bad and it was right on Copacabana’s main street. I spent the rest of the day wandering through Copacabana. I passed by a gleaming white church where I saw people getting their cars blessed for safe travels. Bolivia is notorious for its bad roads, including the most infamous, “The World’s Most Dangerous Road.” Car blessing includes washing your car, decorating it with flowers, spraying it with champagne, pagan and Christian blessings, and firecrackers. I kept walking and came across a parade rehearsal, the first of many parades and rehearsals I would see in the days leading up to Bolivian Independence Day.

Puno turned out to be drab, so I was happy find that Copacabana had an aesthetic sense. It’s a charming little town with colorfully painted buildings and flowery courtyards. But of course, this doesn’t compare to the natural beauty of Lake Titicaca. Before heading to a dinner of wonderful Lake Titicaca trout, I watched the sun drop down behind the seemingly never ending lake. I enjoyed the quiet and solitude. I was content– I’d made it to Bolivia and sensed that my adventure was just beginning.

Lake TiticacaLake Titicaca

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The Road to Puno

by Ekua on October 4, 2009 · 2 comments in Peru

July 29, 2009

It was time to move on from Cusco. Once again, I was up and running while my hostel remained silent. A lot of collective rest was needed after the wild and crazy Independence Day celebrations the night before. As I was heading out of Loki for the last time, I bumped into O.G. as he was exiting the bathroom. He was still wearing the same shirt he had on the night before, and on his bottom half was nothing but red briefs. The look on his face showed me that it was going to take awhile for him to recover from the previous night.

I caught a cab to bus terminal and found the company I’d purchased my ticket from a few days before. There was a problem. The date was July 29th and my ticket was for the 27th. I felt like such an idiot for not looking my ticket over after I bought it. I panicked. The people working at the counter brushed it off and said I’d be fine but did not explain how I could get a seat. They were too caught up with re-ticketing and refunding the entire bus.

They said the bus we were supposed to take had something wrong with it so they had to switch everyone from the nice tourist bus they’d paid for to a cheaper but junky one. One Canadian guy tried to insist on the nice bus, saying that it was what he paid for and what he wanted. But the only option was to take that bus or stay behind in Cusco. I nervously paced around until they finished the re-ticketing process. At the end, there was one seat available for me. Hallelujah!

Scenery along the road to PunoAlong the road to Puno

I was excited for my first real bus ride. Even though they can be long and uncomfortable, they are often a great way to see a country. I often find the space between major destinations more fascinating than the destinations themselves. Popular tourist cities tend to seem familiar because you’ve seen them on TV and in movies and pictures. They are also usually greatly influenced by the foreigners who frequent them. I love the rawness and realness of the simple everyday towns you pass through on the countryside.

We arrived in Puno in the late evening as the sun was about to set. Puno is the main jumping off point for exploring the Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca. When I was planning my trip before I left, I tried to figure out whether I’d explore the Peruvian side, the Bolivian side or both. I opted for the Bolivian side. On the Peruvian side, most people go to Floating Islands and do homestays where they dress up in local clothing. Most people I’d come across either loved it because it was silly fun or hated it because it was too touristy. In the end, the determining factor was that I was itching to get to Bolivia. For me, this trip was more about Bolivia than Peru. You always have to pick and choose in travel and hope that you’re making the right decisions. And if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world– there will always be amazing things to see further down the line.

Welcome to PunoWelcome to Puno

Since I was already at the bus terminal, I decided to booked a ticket to Copacabana, Bolivia for the following day. There were two main Lake Titicaca border crossings mentioned in my guidebook. The Desaguadero crossing was more direct but known for being shady. The Yunguyo crossing was less direct, but more scenic and not shady. It was an easy choice. I booked a ticket with the bus company recommended in my guidebook for Yunguyo crossing. Since I was by myself, I wasn’t interesting in taking a risk when it came to crossing borders.

When that I was all settled, I caught a bus to a hotel. The general consensus I’d gotten from travelers who had already been to Puno was that it was really cold at night and worth splurging for hotel. I forked over $20 which is still cheaper than most budget hostels in North America or Europe. When I was using the hotel’s free computer in the lobby, I struck up a conversation with a girl who had been hanging out there and reading a book.

We made plans to meet up later to go dinner at a pizza place across the street. It had a wood burning stove, a nice bonus that provided extra warmth in the heater-deprived Andes. The girl was a science teacher from England and turned out to be very interesting. She was traveling with a guy friend, but he had gotten really sick and was bed-ridden for days. She told me she usually traveled by herself on a bicycle! She had done this in Cuba and India among other places. When she finished university, she was looking for a research job but went into teaching because that’s what was available at the time. But then she fell in love with the teacher’s lifestyle (breaks and summers off to allow her to travel the world) and never looked back!

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Viva el Peru

by Ekua on September 30, 2009 · 1 comment in Peru

July 28, 2009

On the morning of Peruvian Independence Day, I woke up to a few surprises. The previous night I’d gone to bed early by Loki Hostel standards and found that my ten bed dorm room was full of people who were already sleeping. I thought it was strange, but awesome that I wouldn’t be woken up in the middle of the night by people stumbling in. When I got out of bed, I saw that the bulk of my dorm mates were a group of senior citizens. They weren’t aware of Loki’s reputation until they arrived. I heartily believe that getting older doesn’t mean you should stop having fun or stop hostelling, but it was very clear that Loki wasn’t the right match for them. They were already packing and looking for a new place to stay. One of them grumpily and groggily asked, “What is this place where people go to bed so late and wake up early?”

DSCN0283

The other surprise slowly emerged from the bed below me. First, a familiar mess of blonde hair, and then a face that I couldn’t place but I was sure I’d seen before. We struck up a conversation and he began to talk about a guy from his Machu Picchu trek group who talked loudly and incessantly. O.G.! (See the Machu Picchu entry if you don’t know who I’m talking about.) I asked him if he was in my tour group and he confirmed that he was. His two friends and O.G. were also staying at the Loki in another room. He told me O.G. was from Israel and promised that despite his shortcomings, he had a really good heart.

During the day I wandered around Cusco, trying to find something interesting going on for Peruvian Independence Day besides super loud and excessive gunfire. The children’s parades were canceled because of swine flu so there weren’t as many festivities that day. The first thing I came across was a protests of sorts. A guy was putting up a big banner that read, “¿Somos Libres?” which can be translated as,  “Are we free?” Artwork and articles were posted along the wall and many people went up to take a closer look.

Plaza de Armas

In Plaza de Armas, many people were gathered for a military band performance. I took a seat under a fountain to people watch and listen to the music. Little kids were splashing about in the fountain and people were filling up their water bottles with fountain water. I wondered about the purpose and usefulness of canceling the children’s parades because of swine flu if the public wasn’t educated on basic sanitation.

When the Andean sun became a little too bright, I headed back to the Loki where I found the three American guys and their Israeli friend. O.G. also promised that he was a good guy even if he was a bit obnoxious. I appreciated his self-awareness and audacity to be himself. I felt bad for automatically writing off both the American guys and O.G. at the beginning of the Machu Picchu tour when I first encountered them. They turned out to be nice people and a lot of fun.

I’d signed up for the hostel dinner and the American guys had as well. When the time rolled around, we got our plates of traditional Peruvian food, a special dinner for Independence Day. I didn’t finish my food and one of the guys took my plate and happily ate the rest. Funny how quickly normal boundaries get torn down when you’re on the road. Of course, the hostel was having an Independence Day party in addition to the dinner. Many people were already dressed in red and white, the colors of the Peruvian flag.

O.G. getting the Peru Indepence Day party started

After dinner, I changed into Peruvian colors as well and joined the festivities. It was by far the most fun night at the Loki and everyone was really pumped to celebrate Peruvian Independence. After awhile I took off to a club with the American guys and Brit we picked up along the way. They’d met a woman who was the lead singer of a reggae band that had a show in Cusco that night. Being a huge fan of reggae music, I was happy to go along.

When we got there, the band was just setting up and the show was no where near starting. But it was okay because there was a DJ spinning Top 40 hits so we hit the dance floor and worked it. We all had a blast, except for the British guy. He had a hipster indie thing going on and wasn’t into it at all. When it became clear that the band wasn’t going to perform until the wee hours of the morning, I decided to head back to the Loki. I had a bus to catch early the next morning. I can’t say much for Independence Day, but Independence Night was a raging good time.

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