Saturday
The next morning we woke up and got ready for the boat tour. The hostel still smelled like…well, like shit. It was a pungent, sharp smell. We walked down to the “lake”, which is actually quite an expansive body of water, and climbed aboard with 18 other travelers. The seats were very similar to those of a charter bus. Our guide, Walter, was very friendly and chipper. He explained that Lake Titicaca is actually owned 60% by Peru and 40% by Bolivia. He also explained that the first part of the name of the lake, “titi”, comes from Peru because of their history. The last half of the name belongs to Bolivia *chuckles* (the Peruvians are quite the jokesters). Walter then went on to describe exactly how to pronounce “Titicaca”. According to Walter, one does not pronounce “Titicaca” like “Titikahkah”, but rather with a softer, throatier “caca”.
We first stopped on the floating islands of Uros. There we learned that a whole community lives on one floating island. Each floating island is made of bamboo root mud blocks with layers of bamboo piled on top of the mud blocks. They replace the bamboo layers every month. Also, they use solar panels for electricity! They used to use candles, but the bamboo houses and floors tended to catch on fire too easily, often fatally. With solar panels, they can have actual light and radio, and there are now fewer deaths on the islands. The people of these floating islands spoke Quechua and Castellano (that damn ‘vosotros’…). Their biggest source of income is….you guessed it, tourism. Also, interesting tidbit, many years ago, the United States gave Peru a gift.This gift was a gift of trout for this great lake (because trout is so delicious….?). Now the trout have taken over the lake and eat the smaller, native fish in El Lago Titicaca. They are now trying to revive the native fish population.
We arrived at Amantani Island a full two and a half hours of motor boating later. This wasn’t a tiny little floating island, but was an island with mountains! We got off the boat and paired off by twos for our homestay. Jill and I went with a girl named Aleja and followed her to her home. Aleja lived in a compound of about four buildings. We climbed the very steep stairs to the second floor where our room was. We took care not to collide with the low doorway. Well, ok. The doorway was fine for me, but just barely. Most people indigenous to this area are about my height, or shorter. The room had two small windows and two beds with fancy satin bedcovers trimmed with lace. Aleja said she would come get us once lunch was ready.
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When we first arrived at Aleja’s house, she showed us where the toilet was. We each used it later, but ran into some trouble. The toilet would not flush! After some himming and hahing, I had to resort to asking Aleja what to do. I couldn’t quite find the words to ask how to flush the toilet so the translation of the question I asked ended up being “does the toilet function”. Aleja was startled and confused, I was a little embarrassed and all Jill and I could do was laugh. As it turned out, yes the toilet functions, you just have to pour a bucket of water down it to “flush” it. That was a pretty awkward situation.
When she returned to get us for lunch, we descended the steep stair case to the mud brick kitchen. Aleja explained that they had eaten two hours before so it would be just us for lunch. Aleja’s mother had prepared a quinoa and vegetable soup along with a vegetable plate including potato, tomato, cucumber, and an unknown vegetable that tasted like a carrot and a potato mixed together. I asked what it was called, and was told it was “ocra”, but was not the English equivalent okra. We also drank tea with an herb called “muña”. They don’t often use coca leaves on Amantani because the plants don't grow there well. However, Aleja’s family insisted that muña tea is better for altitude, stomach aches and headaches than coca leaves are. Also, you can rub the herb in your hands and inhale the minty scent to help with breathing and calmness. The food was delicious and we found out, lucky for Jill, that all the people of the island are vegetarian! They only eat fish on special occasions.
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In the corner of the mud brick kitchen sat Aleja’s sister Megan and her two month old daughter, Alexis. Alexis was swaddled tight. Megan's oldest daughter came in, Mildred, who was a year and a half. On this island, it is common to fall in love young, have babies around 18, and marry when you are around 21. However, there is no promiscuity like “in the States”. Megan’s boyfriend lived and worked with Megan’s family, just as if they were married. Aleja said she has five brothers and sisters, but only two are still living in her community. Some had moved to other communities on the island, others had moved to Puno. Walter, our tour guide, told us a secret about how they fall in love in Amantani Island. He said that, in Puno, girls fall in love with boys with really cool motorcycles. But here on the island, girls fall in love with boys with big radios.
After lunch, we rested, and then Aleja walked us up a steep pathway to meet our tour group. From there we planned walk up to Panchapapa to see the sunset. Our guide said it would be about a 25 minute walk. During this “walk” (more like hike) up the mountain, we reached an altitude of about 13,200 feet. On the way up, I began to wheeze, Jill kept asking me if I was ok but my lungs hurt! I felt like I was going to die, I couldn’t breathe! A couple of times I even felt like I might pass out. I suppose the altitude got to me. Of perhaps I should have gotten a few more cardio sessions in before the trip, haha. Finally (finally!), we made it to the top and the view was unbelievable. From atop Pachapapa, we could see all the lake surrounding Amantani, several communities dotting the countryside, and surrounding islands. In a way, it reminded me of looking at the San Juan Islands. The sunset from this view was exceptional after I was able to refill my lungs with air.
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After Pachapapa and the sunset, we hiked back down to our individual houses and rested before dinner. We had dinner with all the family, minus Aleja (she had slipped away somewhere). We had met the father earlier in the day while he was making mud bricks. Mud bricks take about 15 days of sun to dry. These particular bricks were being made to build a new kitchen. The father told us the kitchen they had now trapped smoke inside and wind slammed against the outside. They were building a new, sturdier kitchen with better ventilation. To make the bricks, Papi’s helpers would first dig up a bunch of dirt and make it into mud. Then they carried the mud over to the Papi, who had a mud brick mold. The helpers poured the mud into the mold and went to get more while Papi stepped and squished the mud into the mold with his bare feet. Then he took off the mold and moved it a few inches away to begin the next brick. Soon he had rows and rows of mud bricks.
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Anyway, dinner. For dinner, we had quinoa soup, white rice, and macaroni and potatoes. We also had muña tea again. We sat and talked to Papi and Megan’s boyfriend for a long time. They wanted to know all about what the United States was like, what customs we have and what the people are like. This was very difficult to convey since Papi, boyfriend and I were all communicating through a second language and I was trying to translate as best as I could to Jill. I have a feeling she might not have gotten as much out of the conversation as I did. But, we tried. Papi said he has always lived on the island and his kids who had moved to Puno only visit once or twice a year. He said they cannot grow sugar, rice, or noodles on the island, so they take monthly trips to Puno to get what they can’t grow or make on the island. I asked Papi about crime on the island and he and boyfriend said there is no crime. Everyone works together and does their share; everyone treats others like the family. There are about 5,000 people on the island. Papi asked me about our president (Bush) and when elections are. He asked if we knew who would be the next president or if we had a preference. The boyfriend knew who the candidates were. It was a strange conversation to have in a place where U.S. political drama seemed like worlds away.
Later that night we were dressed by Aleja in typical Amantani clothes, all very bright colors. We walked up to a dance hall and went to a party put on by the local people for their guests. There was a band, and our host families showed us how to dance a typical Amantani dance. The locals also performed several dances for us, each telling a story, or joking about different customs. It was a night of jubilation! As the night went on, our eyelids began to droop and the length of the day began to catch up with us. We left the party and went back to the compound for a night’s sleep on lace and satin beds.
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