Arequipa-Colca Valley & Canyon Part 2

Well it’s been awhile since I’ve turned to my neglected blog, so I’ll try to sum up some other “fun” (well at least interesting) facts from our Arequipa-Colca trip as best I can remember them. Been in Bolivia and numbed ourselves some more in Cuzco since then, so it’s difficult, but here goes…

Driving out of Arequipa through the slums our guide pointed out how people mark off their territory with rocks and that after they’ve occupied it for five years they legally have the right to the title of that land. They erect simple (e.g. very ugly) concrete houses that frequently have an unfinished second floor, which is left incomplete so they don’t have to pay higher taxes and so give future generations a head-start on a bigger house. The slums outside of Arequipa didn’t look nearly as bad as some of the shacks and sheds we saw outside of Lima, but still wouldn’t be anywhere I’d want to spend much time.

Coca leaves, which as I’ve mentioned before are a sacred part of Andean culture and are chewed to provide energy and kill appetite, also are high in calcium and help whiten teeth. “Kintu” is a term that refers to when three coca leaves are held together and represent the sky (heaven if you will), the earth, and the underground. They are exchanged during ceremonies like the one I described for Pachamama day, and the proper response when receiving them from someone is “Urpillay sonkollay” which is Quechua for something along the lines of “my heart is flying.”

The Colca Valley is a beautiful area of terraced hillsides where a wide variety of crops -- from the ubiquitous potatoes to the protein-packed quinoa -- are grown. The terraces predate Incan times and add tremendous definition and texture to the views. We lucked out by staying in Yanque instead of Chivay, the main town where all the tour groups usually bed down for a night, and were treated to an eco-lodge of sorts with the best bathroom and shower I’ve had of the whole trip (believe me, these things aren’t to be taken for granted in the developing world).

Before dinner we hiked down to some hot springs that were the antithesis of the Disneyland-type aguas termales of our Machu Picchu trek trip. These were four natural pools of varying temperature (one was too hot for any of us to brave) with rocks stained distinctive shades of orange, blue, and green from the minerals. We had a good soak in them before following a different path back to the lodge, which involved transversing a trepidatious swinging bridge high over the Urumbamba river.

The main two tribes of the Colca Valley used to practice cranial deformation to distinguish themselves, a practice that was banned when the Spanish conquered the land. But the custom of identifying oneself has continued through the different types of hats worn by the Andean women, often various types of bowlers that are perched jauntily (inexplicably without hat pins) on their heads with their long black plaits stretching down their backs and sometimes tied together or tassels tied on the ends. Another interesting custom from the people of the Colca Valley retained in traditional dances is that the men sometimes wear skirts, a carryover from the days when young lads had to dress up as women to be able to get close to the girls they were courting.

The final day of the tour we visited Cruz del Condor, a point in the Colca Canyon where Andean condors (a different, larger species that California condors) nest and swoop through the canyon at points close enough for the tourist hoards to snap pictures. Condors can live up to 40-50 years in the wild and up to 70 in captivity. They are the largest carrion birds (part of the vulture family) and are a real treat to see fly since they use the thermal air currents to carry them and rarely flap their wings. They are dark brown until they turn about 7 years old, when they turn black and white -- the males also have a white collar. The Colca Canyon, which reaches depths of more than 9,000 feet, was thought to be the deepest canyon in the world until one even deeper was discovered not too far away -- both are twice as deep as the Grand Canyon!

In other news of the animal kingdom, Peru has the world’s largest hummingbirds, which can get up to 20 centimeters (yes, folks, I’m fully immersed in the metric system now). The guide pointed some out but Niki and I failed to see them (we’re notoriously bad at spotting birds -- never did manage to see any that our Machu Picchu trek leader pointed out either) but we did see tiny hummingbirds that we thought were bees (due to their buzzing sound and the fact they darted around quickly) until we saw their pointy noses. The hummingbirds suck nectar from cacti blooms as well as Peru’s national flower, cantuta, an orange flower that is part of the fuschia family.

Trying to get back on the bus from Arequipa to Cuzco was a bit of an adventure. We were running late (per usual -- no kidding, we have been the last two passengers on the bus/van every single time we’ve traveled) but of course had to stop for dos cajas de Gato (cheap Chilean wine) to help knock ourselves out on the semi-cama (aka semi-comfortable) bus. (As a side note, I don’t know why it took me so long to remember the “magic little blue pill” that made traveling on long bus rides so much better in Southeast Asia -- Valium! Technically it’s not supposed to be sold without an Rx here in Peru, but I happened to ask at one farmacia a few weeks ago and lucked out…). So we get to the bus station and find the right bus line counter, where the lady takes the tear-off part of our tickets and grunts about which puerta to go to. We pass through it and go to where we think the bus should already be (since it’s departure time) but there’s no big, red Carhuamayo vehicle there. Puta madre. A man from another bus line helped us by getting a Carhuamayo rep, who rushed us over to a completely different terminal, where, we inevitably were the last ones aboard.

Being on Latin American time is muy peligroso for Niki and me since we’re two people who run late in the U.S., too. Our Peruvian friends tell us that Peru time is generally an hour past whenever the planned meeting time is supposed to be. We definitely don’t worry about being on time for pretty much anything here, as we know most anyone else will be late. As an example, Niki was supposed to meet the band she’s been playing out with in Cuzco at 5 p.m. for practice and it’s now 6:10 p.m. and she’s getting ready… The tardiness is similar to the “mañana” concept in Mexico, where anything and everything can (and usually does wait) until tomorrow.