Chivay

We have reached the land of the Inca. There surely were cultures under the Inca umbrella living in Arequipa before the conquest but they have been pretty much obliterated by the Plaza and Iglesias, and the shops, restaurants and nightclubs catering to wealthy Arequipeños and turistas.

Our planned 10-day foray into the Cañon del Colca turned into 2 weeks in Chivay alone, and we will return here for a month's stay starting in February [this was written a week ago—we are currently back in Arequipa getting luggage, cash, and snacks of choice before heading back to Chivay].

Why Chivay? It is nearly overlooked in the Lonely Planet, mentioned as a good spot to visit hot springs and start some small hikes into the canyon. And the two-three day tours trucking turistas from Arequipa may spend a night here, or may just stop for lunch and a dip in the hot springs before heading to Cabanaconde, where the real hiking is to be had.

But we got stuck in Chivay. Perhaps it's because a bit of altitude sickness made us slow down and take a breath. Perhaps it's the landscape of peaks and valleys, and the incredible terracing now verdant green with this year's crops. Or the friendliness of the people. Or the ancient path we discovered of carefully built and well-worn stones that, we later learned, was indeed built by the Incas and it—or perhaps only remnants—lead all the way to the Inca captitol of Cuzco. Or perhaps it was because we found in Chivay a community that accepted us with or without our wallets (okay; preferably with).

Chivay (Chee-beye) is a small town with narrow, ½-paved roads where construction on a building will block the street completely. The plaza, as in Arequipa, always has people in it (though considerably fewer!), and ladies in particularly clean traditional dress with particularly clean, bright white baby alpacas are at the ready for photo ops and the obligatory fee. (Quick aside: one afternoon we watched from a window as one larger alpaca nuzzled the child it was with, so strongly that the child was soon on his/her back and the alpaca lying on top. It would then roll over onto the pavement, they'd both get up, and start the process over again.)

The development is a mixture ranging from old adobe and thatch residences to three-story stucco buildings with large glass windows. It is in one such building, on the 2^nd floor with an excellent view of the plaza (and nuzzling alpacas) that you will find Carlos, Ingrid, their now nearly 1-month-old baby girl, and Danny—the team that makes up a restaurant serving inexpensive but good-quality food, and excellent cafecita con leche y chocolate caliente.

We came for the 5 sole (that's ~$1.75) menu del día, and lingered with the café and chocolate. And as we lingered, we got to talking with Carlos, and he came to like us; particularly "Esteban." And so our first friendships formed. Meanwhile, those people we pass regularly on the street respond with a smile when we greet them with a buenas días. Another craftsman and shop owner names Cusi, who we have visited a few times and passed on the street, has invited us up to his shop for some conversation.

For me, an inherently shy person who longs for community but has a hard time stepping out of my timid skin to start it, this is a revelation. Here, you just stick around for a while, show the locals you are interested, and the community comes to you (even gringos!). But I do have to admit that having Steve as my "better half" certainly helps. He is the more out-going of the two of us. His playful (sometimes clown-like) nature is welcomed here, even encouraged, and it helps warm up relationships. As Mario of Pensión Mesa said on our very first trip together to Guatemala, Steve is a good one to travel with.

And perhaps amazingly, after nearly four months of spending every single day together, we are doing pretty well! There is the occasional annoyance, sure, and unfortunately I keep beating him pretty badly at Gin Rummy (the only two-person card game we can thing of to play). But, hey, we've already gotten that "in sickness and in health" part down pretty good, as we trade days of ill-health or low energy like a relay race. No, so far, so good.

And so we'll see what this next month brings. We are grateful to Ingrid for helping us secure cheap (VERY cheap! $75/month cheap!) rent for February at her uncle's new hostel. This month we truly will explore more of the canyon—the extensive Inca and pre-Inca terracing that runs the length of the canyon, the Cruz del Condor viewpoint where thermal uplifts make condor-siting at close range a regular occurrence (the Andean Condor is the largest bird of prey in the world, with a wing-span of ~10 feet), and trek down into the canyon from Cabanaconde which takes you to the semi-tropical microclimates of Sangalle, and further in, Tapay.

And we will do our best to follow Ingrid's mother's advice. She told us today, holding her tiny granddaughter, to talk with the folks here. They are the descendents of ancient peoples and they have wonderful stories.

Photos:

• Terracing in the village of Yanque, 15 min. drive from Chivay
• The old and the new
• The old road to Cusco
• Through the window: woman in indigenous dress with baby alpaca/llama
• Carlito's Chorritos a la Chalaca (mussels with a salad of chopped pepper, hot pepper and tomato with choclo and yucca); cafecita con leche y chocolate caliente
• Choclo (corn with exceptionally large kernels; slightly sweet and very starchy)
• Cactus flower
• Woman in indigenous dress (including hat from Chivay—there are other hats from other parts of the canyon), on the busiest corner in Chivay.

Traffic and Plastic

Traffic and Plastic

Mobility and preservation

Congestion and litter
How civilization brings about

Its own demise by virtue

Of its own development

Traffic
Take Arequipa and Chivay: a city of 750,000 people versus the main town of the Colca Canyon (almost directly north of Arequipa, as the Condor flies, and about a four hour bus trip), which at its deepest is twice that of the Grand Canyon.

In Arequipa there are some street corners where signals or cops regulate the flow, but most intersections present a version of "chicken": who arrives first, who is the most aggressive, who is the biggest . . .

Cars making turns are not necessarily in the appropriate lane and may cut off another vehicle in that lane and/or threaten to run down pedestrians crossing the street. Turn signals on or off do not necessarily indicate the intention of the driver who may be talking on a cell, involved with a passenger, listening to the radio, or just out of it. This may provide for the "Peruvian Uncertainty Principle"—when in doubt, honk. Years ago a Mexican friend of mine said, "Mexicans check the operation of the horn before that of the engine." It was a joke, but the same may be said of the Peruaños love of their horns.

Without horns of their own pedestrians had better watch their step, they are the least likely to win in any traffic battle.

In Chivay the traffic is not much faster than the movement of bicycles, or motorized tricycles—which are the most common taxis. People walk in the streets surrounding the main square without much worry of being run down. But yes, you do hear the occasional horn.

Plastic

Plastic is one of the most widely used substances in the world. Grocery bags, bottles, packing for just about everything, construction materials, moldings, coverings, shoes, automotive components, body frames for electronic gadgets, and on and on—one of the byproducts of petroleum. Apparently there is a country-sized collection of discarded plastic floating in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It is in need of a chancellor so that someone could take responsibility for the tens of thousands of birds that die from ingesting plastic yearly. Besides contributing to climate change in its production phase, it also is like radioactive material in that it takes thousands of years to break down.

In Chivay the organic wall guards, that are customarily seen as barbed wire or glass bottle shards, are cactus plants growing into the top of walls with well formed needles to discourage any wall jumper. As an added benefit the cacti seem to be pretty good at catching any airborne plastic bag that happens their way. Not only does this provide a visual cue as to the amount of plastic making its way about the world, but it also gives folks a chance to collect it.

There are an abundant number of street cleaners in Arequipa and Chivay who do a really good job of keeping up appearances. In Chivay most of those involved are indigenous women, who not too long ago did not use much plastic themselves. They were accustomed to wrapping things in fabric or paper, which of course over time would decompose. But as "development" takes hold, so does the plastic.

But there is hope! Just yesterday we were at Plaza Vea in Arequipa, a Peruaño department store, where they use biodegradable bags. We were impressed!

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year from Arequipa!!

Peru is ahead of the marketing game for New Years...in the span of a week Santa's suit fades to yellow, but the photo ops keep coming!

Woven From the Past

2 enero 2010, Arequipa

A few days ago, we visited a wonderful little, two room museum which shares a building with the community offices of Yanahuara on the opposite side of the plaza from Iglesia San Juan Batista. The museum features artifacts from the Pre-Inca Chiribaya culture which flourished between 800-1250 AD, in the Ilo Valley of Southern Peru. At its height it may have covered an area of 25-30 thousand square kilometers (10-12 thousand square miles). They were the most significant grouping in the south coastal region of Peru and had settlements as far inland as present-day Arequipa, about 80 kilometers (50 miles).

The Chiribaya emerged as the Tiahuanaco culture, 200BC-1200AD, centered in the southern shores of Lago Titicaca, was dissolving and the Huari (Wari) concentrated in the central highlands of Peru—southeast of Lima and west of Cuzco—was withdrawing.

The Tiahuanaco is renowned for the agricultural practices at high altitude. Their primary city was at 3850 meters (12,600 feet). They created raised fields, 10 meters wide, with canals running along side. During the day the sun heated the water in the canals, and at night the water radiated its warmth protecting the crops from frost. Experiments revealed that the crops grown, potatoes, Andean tubers and grains, produced seven times higher than the average yield.

The Chiribaya copied this technique in its areas of settlement, and especially in river valleys on an extremely dry coast. Along with their highly productive agriculture they were well advanced in the technology they used for fishing. They crafted copper fishing hooks and harpoons, had arrowheads of quartz, and stone fishing weights. They also crafted rafts for ocean fishing.

Their beautiful ceramics usually had a geometric motif and can usually be recognized by the use of white dots to delineate borders between colors.

Chiribaya textiles are made of vegetable fibers, cotton, and wool from llamas, alpacas, and vicuñas. They used the natural colors of the fibers and variety of pigments from stone, soil, and plants to create the colors in the textiles. The designs, geometric, anthropomorphic, and zoomorphic are brilliant, and the quality of the weave rivals any textiles I have seen.

The Eye of the Beholder

13 diciembre 2009

Today in the Sunday paper, El Pueblo, there is an article about the Plaza de Armas de Arequipa being voted the second most beautiful central square in Latin America. (The first being La Plaza Monumental Virgen Chinita in Maracaribo, Venezuela.)

The article is based on internet comments from a video of unknown origin---there were only 194 comments. It would be interesting to know the source of the video. The third most beautiful was El Zócalo in Mexico City---which I would rate over the Plaza de Armas given the majesty of the Cathedral and the murals painted by Diego Rivera within the courtyard of the National Palace.

Yet, the fortitude of the Arequipeños to maintain the plaza is impressive. The daily upkeep of cleaning up litter, watering the flowers and grass, and the washing of the fountain and plaza stone, from pigeon deposits, is one thing. But, serious earthquakes have hit the city in 1600, 1687, 1868, 1958, 1960, and 2001. The latest quake toppled one of the tall bell towers and severely damaged the other—they were rebuilt the following year.

The plaza is a favorite spot for Arequipeños to take their children to feed the pigeons. They buy small bags of seed from a vendor for 50 centimos, then the fun begins. First the kids, some toddlers, need to figure out how to open the bag without spilling the entire contents onto the ground, then come up with a strategy of feeding the birds: holding seed in their hands; dumping some onto the ground; throwing it up into the air; and variations thereof. Of course, you have those you try to catch the birds---a few are successful at this. Then there are those, mostly boys, who spend their time chasing them around the plaza. Anyway, quite amusing.

In the center of the plaza is the fountain topped by a statue of a 16^th century Spanish soldier blowing a horn---perhaps, to round up the troops before assaulting the locals. I find it a bit strange. It always amazes me how there are all the triumphant symbols of conquest in town squares, crossroads, above religious and government doorways, while the descendents of the conquered still live their poor workaday lives below.

(The photo of the bell tower in repair was taken from a magazine we found from 2001, when the quake hit. And the name of the guy atop the fountain in the Plaza is Tuturutu.)

My Passion

..Ironically this post was delayed a week due to a nice bout with la turista...

We've been at this hostel for 3 weeks now and know the surrounding neighborhood pretty well. Just around the corner is a panadaria we visit daily for our 6 buns of pan (bread)—usually some mixture of wheat rolls, ciabatta rolls, and slightly eggy rolls they like to fashion as though they were croissants. Right out of the oven this last variety are quite good (they may have a bit of butter in there as well—though they are a far cry from an actual croissant!). None of them are the real hearty bread you'd get in the states—those heavy, hearty wheat and grain breads, or AnnaBread from Ashfield with its incredible crust (Anna, I miss your bread! You know I will gorge on it when we return!). These are squish-down-and-melt-in-your-mouth kinds of breads, and they have become a small staple in our gastronomic lives here.

The other, more alluring offerings at the panadaria are the pastries (postres). Daily options include any number of fillo dough concoctions with or without dulce de leche (my favorite being a puffy fillo square with custard baked into the center and a prune on top); rich but not too sweet slices of chocolate cake; fruit tartlets and meringue pie-lets. Steve's favorites are on the savory end…a version of chard pie, or a calzone-like baked pastry with queso andino inside. The prices in the panadarias are remarkable: 6 fresh-baked rolls go for about 40 cents and each dessert pastry is about 45 cents or so. Needless to say, I find absolutely no reason not to visit the shop on a daily basis.

Across the way on the corner there is a small tienda selling all manner of household items from verduras (vegetables) and raw meats (carne, pollo, etc—all in questionable refrigeration) to toilet paper and matches. Halfway down our block on Calle Puente Grau is a shop selling miel (honey) and bee-keeping equipment (who'd have thought, in the city!). Further down the block is a haircut place, a couple of schools, a few second-hand book and magazine stores (all in Spanish), a few other hostels, and a fairly large indoor crafts market. Often outside the market is a woman selling queso helado, the delicious ice cream/sorbet. In general there are vendors on the streets with covered carts selling gum, cigarettes and snacks. Also on the streets are women and men selling a type of cactus fruit called tuna, newspaper stands, and tons of pre-packaged ice creams, frozen yogurts and frozen juices, which the locals seem to eat a lot of. As you get closer to the main market (9 blocks away) the sidewalks are packed with folks selling shoe laces, batteries, cds, etc, etc, etc. The sidewalks are often narrow, so when you come upon a vendor or even a couple taking up the entire width, you need to step down into the street if you want to pass—making sure you know where the taxis are and they see you, too. This dance goes on—up and down and around and up and down—until you reach your destination.

One other note on the vendors here…walking around other parts of the city, you get a taste of a whole other world of shopping. Here, in the historic (a.k.a tourist) district, all shops have their own neat little space as they do in the US. But elsewhere, the shops are more like the open-air food market. For one, everything is open to the street. No doors need separate potential customers from catching a glimpse of something they'd like to buy. Everything from food stands to furniture, dolls, windows, lumber, sneakers, underwear….spills out into the sidewalk to entice passersby. And if you didn't happen to see exactly what you wanted right there, the shoe vendor at the entrance takes up only a little booth. If you're looking for another type of shoe, just continue into what becomes a labyrinth of a building to look at 50 other shoe vendors, because they're there, each one next to the other and selling what seems to be all the same stuff. And beyond the shoe vendors are the toy vendors, and the lingerie vendors, and the…all taking up what turns out to be a huge warehouse separated into tiny little booths and a maze of walkways connecting them all with the outside world.

But back to our neighborhood….

Around the corner on Calle Jerusalen is a café which we will likely start patronizing, as their coffee may actually be the real thing (99% of the coffee here is instant. None of that smooth, rich Peruvian Roast here, no sir. The export market is very important, you know!) Steve has been subsisting on instant coffee made at home, bless his soul. Café from the café costs as much as it would in the States, but I think he's ready for a treat once in a while.

A few doors down from the café is a vegetarian restaurant called Lakshmivan that we have visited a good handful of times for their menu del dia—a large lunch of 4 courses for about $2.30 each, including tip. Their entrées have generally not impressed me (Steve thinks they're fine though…this is where I get picky), but one of our favorite first courses consists of potatoes with an almost curry-like cream sauce, over lettuce and tomato. It's fantastic.

Our other haunt is on Calle San Francisco, a place called Fez that serves up really good falafel and grilled chicken sandwiches. We've been there more than we'd like to admit, but the food is scrumptious, they wash the raw veggies they serve with purified water, and the two women who work as the waitstaff are wonderful. It's usually full of gringos, if it's full at all, but I guess we shouldn't try to pretend we're not gringos too. Still, before we leave this town I'd like to try out some of the more local eats. Alpaca, for instance, and of course ceviche. We're a couple hours from the ocean (though plenty of fish comes from the rivers), but Arequipa is trying to become one of the gastronomic destinations of South America (and the world?), so the ceviche should still be good. Cuy (guinea pig) is another culinary specialty…but we might not go for that one. We'll have to see.

(Those colorful photos of dancers were taken at a March for Peace and Nonviolence on Christmas Eve, in the Plaza.)