Leaving Peru seemed like a far-off dream... until I was sitting on the bus, and found myself staring fully into bold letters: ECUADOR. And then it hit me... a new country, and all that would entail. New money. New phrases. A new accent. New beers (which I don't anticipate can top Peruvian beers...). But as our bus wound through the Ecuadorian mountains, each of us stamped and affirmed by customs, the sun tucked itself behind the fog of the hills, and before me was strung one of the most amazing sunsets yet, golden rays diffusing through gentle fog, lazily washing over a serene valley. Huge trees lined the road, while a noticable darth of political ads gave a welcome respite from the overwhelming election atmosphere of Peru. I can honestly say that from the moment I entered Ecuador, this country captivated me with it's natural beauty. We'll see if this point I've awarded sticks :)
My last week in Peru was a journey of several hundred kilometers, with a lot of bussing, some ruins, waterfalls, sunsets, colonial towns, huge cities, my return to the coast, and a lot of mountains. From leaving Lagunas after our jungle trip, an uncomfortable, overly caffinated overnight boat ride brought us to Yurimaguas; the next day's trip brought us to Tarapoto, the place where the mountains meet the jungle. My heart skipped a beat as I witnessed the first foothills of the Andes, jungle plants slowly gaving way to the familiar sierra varieites. And in there, the first conniferous trees I've seen (oh, I miss them so much!).
Tarapoto struck me as a really beautiful place, and if I had been in the right mindset and financial state, I probably sound have spent a lot more time there. Surrounded by waterfalls and outdoor activities, there seems to be an overwhelming amount of stuff to do, from kayaking and rock climbing, to waterfalls and hiking. After an unsuccessful attempt to find a local natural food store (where I was told I could find seaweed... YUM!), our luck connected us to a local motocarro driver, who we hired to take us to some waterfalls. Bathing suits packed, we took to the sunscorched highway in a LOUD taxi, the noise of which paled in comparison to the awe I experienced looking out on the mountains, their verdant green radiating in the afternoon sun. A short hike later, amidst signs urging us to protect nature and not leave garbage, across roofed bridges and up stony walkways, we came to the falls. The water was cold, the falls loud, but the experience was incredibly cleansing, in many ways. It was one of those falls that you could go behind, and experience what it might be like for a yogi living in a cave, looking out on the world.
The next day, our 8 am bus brought us by afternoon back into the mountains, along windy, nausea-inducing hairpin turns, to the little colonial town of Chachapoyas. A sharp difference from the slightly manic, thoroughly modern towns I'd seen before, Chachas seemed to crawl along at times, while in the evening, the town bustled amidst pizza joints, small bars serving local liquor, the market (which stayed open late, great for cheap dinners), and restaurants on the square. Our hospedaje had a small courtyard (which was worth paying the extra money for!), with cats who visited us, along with a local man quite fanatic about romantic poetry. That evening, out of the blue, I ran into two good friends from BC, April and Mickey, who had been on a six-month journey all over south america. Over mate and dinner, we traded stories, and shared all the rediculous and amazing experiences on the road, while reminiscing about friends from home. Honestly, I'd been feeling kinda homesick, so a good dose of BC / coastal love was exactly my medicine. I don't know if you two are reading this, but thank you, April and Mickey!
While in Chachas, I spent two long days travelling to ruins (among my favorite things to do while travelling). The first is Kuelap, a huge fortress built by the pre-Inca Chachapoyan culture, notable for their unique round buildings (many replicas of which are built today). The trip involved a 3 1/2 hour drive along high mountain roads, to an altitude of 3100 meters, small towns dotting the way, while farmer´s fields clung to the sides of mountains like patch-work quilts thrown off the side of a bed. From the entrance, we hiked another 20 minutes, constantly saying hellow to the many orchid species present (I was told over 43 species live in the area!).
Kuelap is huge. Over 600 m long, and about 100 m wide, it's one of the largest sites in South America, and widely considered the second most impressive set of ruins, after, of course, Machu Picchu. The structures have the distinctive round shape, as do the fortress walls (this is believed to be protection from sismic damage). It's unknown exactly what the site was for: it may have been a fortress/defensive structure, or perhaps a central government structure, from which the locals brought grain and tribute n exchange for protection. Or, due to the large number of bodies found in the walls and floors of the site, there may have been a funerary element to the site, as it's noted that the Chachapoyan culture was rather fond of elaborate funerary rites, often involving burial or a corpse for 2 years, before the body was exhumed, and the bones wrapped in linen and 'mummified'. Check out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuelap for more info.
This obsession with funerary rites is noted in several other sites throughout the region, with sites such as el pueblo de los muertes (the village of the dead), the lagoon of corpses, and, one I visited, Karajia, where anthropomorphic stone sarcophagus' stand high along a cliff face. Another daytrip, I went to see these sarcophagi for myself - and found so much more. The trip was, again, about 3 hours, along bumpy dirt roads, up high mountain roads, to the tiny village of Cruzpata, where I paid about $1 and started my walk. Passing local fields filled with golden maize, flowers of all descriptions, and many types of vegetables, I came upon a mirador, from where the path went along a cliff face (don't worry, there was a railing!). Up above, watching the whole valley, stood six human-sized stone statues. Skulls sat upon two of their heads, while painted images of animals, or some sort of line, swooped across each. Nearby, a small waterfall spilt water from above, to a lagoon below. Passing underneath, I was presented with a huge assortment of human bones, presumably found in the region, and neatly stacked on rocks. Among them: many femur and tibia, skull fragments, foot bones, fingers, jaws, and a small mummified hand, skin still preserved. Many of the bones came from juveniles, as evidenced by the cartilaginous areas of unfused bone. No one could tell me much about the site itself... but there was enough there to tell me that it is indeed special, and a place I'm happy to have visited.
I left Chachapoyas on another long bus, this time overnight, arriving in the coastal city of Chiclayo, from where I left for Piura, then finally, Ecuador. Neither of those cities were particularly interesting, save from the glimpses of extreme wealth and poverty side-by-side. My bus trip to Piura, however, gave me my first glimpses of the coast in over 2 months, bathed in the light of sunset, which fit remarkably well with the music I had on: 'Sol', by Solar Fields.
My final thoughts on Peru:
This land is one of the most incredibly special places I've been. I know I've said this a bunch of times, but it's the truth. I can't believe how at-home I feel. Peruvians are a friendly, generous, and seemingly happy people, who, I can see, are able to overcome the indignities and difficulties of the past (corrupt politics, war, the Shining Path insurgency, poverty), and shine. Two examples of kindness stand out among the others: one, in a bus terminal, a local woman looked at me with a kindly smile, and reached over, passing me a huge bundle of grapes, barely saying a word (althougnh her smile said volumes). Second, and most profoundly, was in Piura, where, literally, I was down to my last handfull of soles (Peruvian money), since my US cash had molded in the jungle, and the bank wouldn't take them. I walked into this veggie restaurant, and as I looked at the menu (which I couldn't afford at the time), a man and two little girls at a table shared a whisper, and then called me over. As one of the girls really didn't like the bowl of sweet fruit and yogurt she had, the three asked if I wanted it. The sense of gratitude was overwleming, the sheer kindness of these three clear. I thanked them, and went for it. I felt in that moment perhaps what a monk might experience, seeking alms, and living with deep humility off the generosity of others. I certainly don't live the life of a monk, but that experience really hit home, and reminded me so clearly of all the generosity and kindness I seen here. A little later that night, while eating a 65-cent meal of soup from a street vendor, a girl there was listening to 'where's the love?' by the Black Eyed Peas. Such a perfect reminder in those words, almost like a little moment of verbal reinforcement of all the lessons learned.
New vistas, new experiences. Ecuador is already starting out welcoming, warm, and fun. Today, after I finish (and get some lunch!), I plan to catch a bus to Vilcabamba, for some quiet hangout in hammocks, in what Lonely Planet calls a 'gringo paradise'. That sounds nice for a few days :) Lydia, my friend from Germany and often-time travel companion, is in Lima right now, and will be coming to meet me in Cuenca in a few days, for another round of adventures.
Lots of love, my friends and family... until the next time!
Paz, luz, y amor,
Chris / Nagdeo / Gnome
