Monkeys, mosquitoes and machetes

I think I took every possible mode of transportation this weekend to reach my final destination: the village of an indigenous tribe deep in the Amazonian jungle. One taxi, one city bus, one 5-hour bus, one camioneta (complete with cramming six of us and the luggage of 13 people in the bed for a two hour ride on bumpy jungle roads), and finally one canoe brought us to a small Huaorani village on the banks of a river right in the middle of the jungle.

The Huaorani have a pretty violent history, and if you’ve seen the movie End of the Spear or heard of Jim Elliot then you are probably familiar with it. Today, however, as long as you have a contact and permission, you can usually enter their territory relatively safely. The professor of the class I went with knows the grandson of one of the tribe’s leaders (the grandson was actually a student of his at USFQ—the first Huaorani to graduate from the university) so he escorted us to the village and stayed with us the whole weekend to ensure our safety.

Monkey sighting! This one was kind of a pet of the village and even when it wasn't tied up it wouldn't wander very far.

The village was very small—only about 15 people, and had just been started about two months ago. The Huaorani are hunters/gatherers so they move around a lot in search of food and rarely settle in one place for more than 5 or 10 years. While there, we ate their food (lots of bananas, yucca and fresh caught fish), literally bushwhacked through the jungle to see some monkeys and birds, swam in their river, slept on wood boards, learned how to use a blow gun and most importantly talked with them.

Learning how to use a blow gun--which some of the men still use to hunt monkeys and birds.

Most of them spoke at least a little Spanish, but were pretty shy so we talked mostly with Fernando, our contact and semi-guide. Since he grew up Huaorani yet studied at USFQ and has even traveled to the states he had a really interesting perspective on the state of his tribe. Apparently there are only about 2,000 Huaorani left, yet they occupy a huge territory in eastern Ecuador. One of the biggest threats to their way of life now is oil companies. It’s so interesting to be down here and hear that oil exploitation, not deforestation, is one of the biggest threats to the Amazon right now. In the states I feel like all we ever talk about is how bad it is that we are cutting down the rainforest, when in reality the oil companies pose just as much, if not more, of a threat than the lumber companies.

Just as we were about to go to sleep on Saturday, Fernando also casually mentioned that some people in his tribe had seen FARC camps in the jungle pretty close to where we were sleeping. He said we probably weren’t really in any danger, but it was another worry to add to the list including snakes, malaria, yellow fever, rabid monkeys and spears. How about that for a little bedtime story?

Despite the danger, the experience was one in a million and completely worth the risk. Never again will I have such an opportunity, and I’m really glad I took it.

You've got the jungie!

I have to do a double take every time I look at the calendar and realize it is April. Almost mid-April actually. In a little more than a month I’ll be back in Wisconsin. Craziness. Part of me is excited to go back and see my family and friends, sleep in my own bed, and eat some good old American food (oh Culver’s, how I pine for thee…), but part of me is starting to get sad to leave. This has been one of the most difficult yet most amazing experiences of my life, and I can definitely say that I’m going to be heading back with a whole new perspective on the world. Not to mention the ability to curse in Spanish. Haha, just kidding. Ok, not really, but I would never use such foul language. :)

Since Semana Santa…Last weekend I went to Tena with a few friends. Tena is about 5 hours from Quito, sits on the edge of the jungle, and is known as the rafting capitol of Ecuador. It would obviously be a sin, therefore, to go there and not raft. So on Saturday we hired ourselves a company and took to the jungle rivers for a full day of battling the rapids. The trip included lots of paddling, a decent amount of screaming, and even a little bit of swimming. At one point, in the middle of some rapids, our guide had us all stand up on the edge of the raft and grab hands. Somehow, by the grace of God alone, nobody fell out. Not long after, however, as we bruised our way through another set of rapids we turned around to realize our guide had fallen out. An entire day of rafting and he was the only one who ended up in the water unintentionally. That is poetic justice my friends.

Our guide purposely would lead us into giant rocks like this...all in good fun.

After an intense day on the river we thought it would be nice to have a classy dinner, instead of paying the usually 2 bucks at some tiny random restaurant. After searching our travel Bible (Lonely Planet) we found a great restaurant on the banks of the river that runs through town. The setting was gorgeous, the food was great (best tilapia I have ever had, and I’m not a big fan of fish usually), and a bottle of wine shared among friends made for a great evening and the perfect way to wrap up a great day in Tena.

This weekend I opted to stay put in good old Quito, and spent some quality time with friends and my host family. On Thursday I went out with my host sister (finally) to her favorite discoteca, which is apparently one of the best in Quito. Thursday is ladies’ night, which means all girls get in for free before 10:30. It also means there is a line at least an hour long to get into the club. Lucky for me my host sister has some serious connections and we walked right in without waiting at all. Somehow we also managed to get wristbands for the VIP lounge, which meant avoiding the extremely crowded/hot/stinky main dance floor. I actually had a really good time, and it was nice to hang out and get to know my sister better. I am still amazed at how she goes out every single Thursday, Friday and Saturday, though. We didn’t get home until 4 in the morning (I was ready to leave the club by like 1:30, but going home that early is unheard of here apparently), and I was absolutely exhausted. My sister then proceeded to make some pasta, which meant we didn’t make it to bed until around 5. One hour later she was up and getting ready for school and 12 hours later she was home getting ready to go out again. Insanity. Just watching her put on her make-up to go out again on Friday made me tired.

I opted for a more low-key Friday and invited a few friends over to my place hang out and relax. We got ourselves some delicious hot dogs, made some chocolate chip cookies, and had a nice girls’ night chatting away. Just a side note on how great my host mom is—I hadn’t even asked her if I could have friends over, and when she got home from work I was a little nervous that she might be upset we had taken over the kitchen. I have no idea why I was worried. She comes in, hugs my friends, tells them they are her hijas (daughters) and should make themselves at home. I even had a friend spend the night (taxis are such a hassle and sometimes not safe to take alone when it gets to be late), and in the morning she had our maid make us both breakfast and said my friend is welcome over any time. From some of the stories I have heard about other host families I feel really blessed to have the one I do.

Saturday my friend and I hit up one of the malls in Quito in search of a dress for her sister’s wedding. No success, but fun nonetheless. We then made our way to the movie theater to see Gone Baby Gone. There were slim pickings for movies, so it was either that or School of Scoundrels. The movie was pretty good, but it was set in a rough neighborhood in Boston so there was so much slang I didn’t know I sometimes had to actually read the subtitles to understand.

Today was a total family day at my house. My host mom loved the cookies I had made with my friends (and Mariapilar and her friends had devoured them when they got home from the discoteca on Friday), so she wanted to make some more with me. The batch we made together turned out even better than the ones I had made with my friends, and it was really nice to talk to her for a while. After dragging my host sister out of bed we hit up the mall (again) to look for shoes for Mariapilar’s prom dress. I also tried some empanadas de morocho (morocho is some type of corn apparently) for the first time. Oh fried goodness—they were amazing. Considering they came from a street vendor and had more grease than a super-sized order of McDonald’s fries, however, I’m shocked my stomach hasn’t returned them yet.

Good weekend in Quito—a little dancing, a little baking, a little bonding; all of which will make it a little harder to go home in a month.

Is your mama a llama?

My mama is not a llama. A little loca, but not a llama. :)

Last week I saw, walked with, and smelled enough llamas to last me a lifetime. For Semana Santa I headed down to Peru for what turned out to be one of the best and most unique “vacations” I have ever been on.

We left Quito around 8 p.m. on Thursday (the 20th) for our ten-day journey in Peru. Our first flight brought us to Lima, Peru’s capital, around 10:30 p.m. Our flight to Cusco, however, didn’t leave until 6:50 the next morning. Give 5 poor college students the choice between spending at least $15 on a crappy hostel and taxi ride or sleeping for free and it’s not difficult to guess what we did. Yep, we stretched out on some chairs and spent the night in the Lima airport. There were actually a decent number of people who did the same thing as us, as most of the flights for Cusco leave early in the morning. I think we managed a couple hours of restless sleep before our morning flight took us to our final destination of Cusco, Peru, the capital of the Inca Empire and the gateway to Machu Picchu.

All of our bags made it to Cusco sin problemas as well (thank goodness) and a woman from our hostel was even there waiting to pick us up. The hostel turned out to be a good find—cheap (only $7 a night), free breakfast, internet, big screen TV with cable and movies, and we even managed to snag our own bunk room. We spent the rest of Friday catching up on sleep and exploring Cusco a bit.

Our little furry friend that followed us around the hostel all week.

Saturday was spent exploring Cusco a bit more, including the local artisanal markets. There are also a number of Incan ruins within 10 km of Cusco, so we bought a tourist’s ticket to visit nearly 16 different historical and cultural sites in and around Cusco (for just $12!). In our wonderings we spotted a statue of Christ on one of the mountains surrounding the city, so we decided an afternoon hike to Jesus was a must. Once we finally reached him (after huffing and puffing up a bajillion stairs and literally scrambling on hands and knees up the side of a mountain), there was a gorgeous rainbow visible right behind the statue. Too cool.

Who said you couldn't find treasure at the end of a rainbow??

Jesus happened to be right next to one of the largest ruins sites near Cusco, so we took a little time to explore while we were there. The site is called Saqsayhuaman (pronounced like “sexy woman”—despite being 20 I still giggled at that like a 13-year-old), and when Cusco is viewed from above the ruins form the head of a puma, while the city of Cusco forms the body.

That night we randomly stumbled across a cute little restaurant that gave all of its profits to poor children in Cusco. It was decorated like a child’s playroom and featured live music the night we were there. We joked it must have been “lonelied” (in the Lonely Planet Peru book—every traveler’s favorite book for finding good places to stay, eat and things to do) because it was pretty hopping for 9 p.m. and was full of foreigners.

Cusco's biggest church on the main plaza

On Easter Sunday I experienced my first Latin American mass in one of Cusco’s many gorgeous churches. We then spent the rest of the day exploring three other ruins near Cusco. Without a guide it wasn’t as culturally enriching as it could have been, but we are all cheapskates and it was fun trying to imagine for ourselves what the Incans used the various buildings for.

I was under the impression the Incans were of the shorter variety, yet this doorway was over twice my height.

The trip back from the last ruin was certainly an interesting one. We had taken a taxi to the furthest ruin at the beginning of the day, and walked about an hour between the other two. The last one we visited, however, was still a decent distance from town and since it was getting late we decided to grab a “bus” back to our hostel. By bus I of course mean a 10 passenger van that at least 25 people miraculously managed to cram themselves into. Butts were in faces, feet were in stomachs, yet somehow we made it back to town in one piece. Ah, South American transportation. Never ceases to amaze me.

This is about the size of the van thirty people squeezed into. This one might actually be a bit larger than ours was.

Lares Llama Trek
Monday morning brought the beginning of our four day journey to Machu Picchu. Originally we had wanted to hike the Inca Trail, but because of its popularity you need to book months in advance. We didn’t even know for sure if we were going to Peru 2 months ago, much less if we would be hiking the Inca Trail, so we kind of missed that boat. No worries, though. The alternative trek we did was amazing, and our guide told us she actually preferred it to the Inca Trail because the scenery was more beautiful and it was so much less crowded.

Man was she right. I could go on for pages about the trek, but I’ll try and touch on the highlights to keep from boring you.

After getting picked up from our hostel at 6:30 a.m. by our guide (Cynthia) and our cook (Benigno) we made our way to the small village of Calca where we bought some Peruvian chocolate and coffee along with pencils and pens to give to kids we met along our trek. Another short stint in the van then brought us to Lares, where we soaked in some hot springs before beginning the hiking portion of the trek. A short 25 minute walk brought us to our lunch site, where the cook had an amazing meal waiting for us.

Each day we were fed breakfast, lunch, tea time, and dinner, and the food was better than what I can cook in the convenience of my home. Fresh fruit, vegetables, rice, chicken, soup, bread and even a cake are just some of the things we indulged in. I felt like we weren’t really camping, or like we were cheating or something. Then I found myself going to the bathroom behind a rock and decided the gourmet food was cancelled out by using nature as a bathroom.

Each meal was also followed by Peru’s specialty—Mate de Coca (coca tea). Yes, coca as in cocaine. No, what we drank was not a drug. The leaves we put in our tea are the same leaves used to make cocaine, but they are a far cry from the illegal substance. Chemicals are needed to make the drug, and the coca leaves themselves do little more than help with altitude sickness or cure a churning tummy.

Coca tea--with a bit of sugar it was the perfect way to wake up in the morning or finish a meal at night.

After lunch we hiked for about 2.5 hours to our first campsite—right next to a waterfall. Our guide said that hike normally takes over 3 hours, and was really impressed with us since only one out of the five of us had ever seriously trekked before. At our first campsite we also came across our first group of kids. As they saw us approaching the village they came racing out to meet us, in search of goodies. Cynthia told us a lot of trekkers like to give them candy, so they have come to expect it. She advices her groups not to give sweets out, however, since the kids don’t brush their teeth and the candy isn’t good for them. We were therefore ready with pens and pencils—much more practical gifts and still kindly received. We came across kids throughout our trek, and they usually came running down the mountain sides to greet us, all dressed up in their adorable colorful skirts and hats. Sometimes we would be hiking literally in the middle of nowhere—not even a house or llama in site—and they would pop up in front of us with those big brown eyes and rosy cheeks. Too cute and impossible to say no to.

Little kids looking for some presents met us on the way to our first campsite.

Speaking of llamas, I suppose I should mention why it is called the Lares Llama Trek. Llamas actually carried our bags for the majority of the trek. As we hiked we also came across countless numbers of llamas and alpacas roaming the mountainsides.
The crew with our llamas--they are really shy and spit when they are angry or nervous, so we didn't dare get any closer than this.

Day two was the most difficult of the trek. We hiked for about 3.5 hours in the morning, pretty much uphill most of the way. The first half of the day culminated at a 4,480 meter pass. Hard, but the views were indescribable. Trying to show you pictures of it is like trying to describe one of Motzart’s symphonies to a deaf person. You just have to experience it to fully understand.
The second half of the day was a nice 3 hour downhill hike to our second campsite, just outside a small community, between two mountains and on the banks of a quiet river. Another perfect day of weather meant a perfect night for stargazing. After sharing a bottle of wine our guide Cynthia surprised us with, we spent a while looking at the brightest stars I have ever seen in my life. The night sky was gorgeous. I wish I could have captured a picture of them, but I think God wants everyone to see his work for themselves and none of our cameras could capture their beauty.

Pondering life--and how the heck I made it up that mountain--in the Peruvian wilderness.

Our final day of hiking was for only about an hour, to a local village where we were able to see the Quechua way of life. To a globalised westerner their lives may seem simple and even backward, and might even draw the occasional “Oh, I feel so bad for them, they are so poor.” In reality, however, the people seemed more happy than most with their lives. They wore bright colored clothing, had food to eat, and of course had a soccer field that probably received more care than all of their houses and farms combined. Our guide also told us that they don’t really use money—if someone is in need, a neighbor helps them out under the assumption the same would be done for them. Crime simply doesn’t exist, and laughter far outnumbers yelling. I’m pretty sure that’s how God intended us to live, and I think we could all learn a thing or two from the Quechua.

We explored the Incan ruins of Ollantaytambo on Wednesday as well, and tried a little Cusqueña beer before catching the last train to Aguas Calientes, the small town the sits just below Machu Picchu. We spent the night in one of the nicest hostels I have stayed in in South America, and enjoyed a glorious shower to wash off four days of accumulated filth.

Thursday was D-day. Or MP-Day. The one and only Machu Picchu. We caught an early bus up and found the ruins nearly invisible—completely covered in morning clouds. Within an hour, however, the clouds had mostly cleared and revealed the Incan marvel. Perched among various Andean peaks, the Lost City of the Incas is everything it’s made out to be. Gorgeous scenery, history, and hiking. Our guide did crush my dreams a bit, however, when she mentioned that about 40% of the ruins are reconstructed, and insisted on pointing out the errors the archeologists had made in rebuilding the city. Nevertheless, it was awesome to explore the ruins and hear their history. After a couple hours of touring we decided we weren’t tired enough from three days of hiking and decided to make our way up Waynapicchu (Quechua for “Young Mountain”; Macchu Picchu is Quechua for “Old Mountain”). Waynapicchu is the tall pointy mountain you always see in pictures of Machu Picchu. Yep, we hiked up that bad boy. It was pretty much rocky stairs all the way up, and the views from the top were spectacular.

Finally made it to Machu Picchu! Post card-worthy picture right there. The tall mountain in the background is Waynapicchu. It only took us about 45 minutes to climb to the top.


The view of Machu Picchu from the top of Waynapicchu.

After finishing our hike and tour of Machu Picchu, we hung out in Aguas Calientes until our 5 p.m. train back to Cusco. In Cusco we said goodbye to our guide and hit our bunks for some much needed and well-deserved rest.

The last few days in Cusco were pretty uneventful—mostly shopping (spending way too much money), eating (tried some alpaca), and seeing some museums. All-in-all it was an amazing Semana Santa full of fun and challenging experiences and many, many memories made with some great friends.