May 30, 2007
Soul of Athens
I'm in Athens today at Ohio University, so it seems appropriate to give props to Soul of Athens, a new site spawned (I think) for the OU VisCom Department. But what I like most about it is the mix of folks involved. It's good to see academia slipping out of its silos and spreading its wings. And the content is very cool.
The site is Flash-driven and sucks some bandwidth. The wireless connections I've been viewing it on are barely enough to render it, but it does work. And it errs a tad on the side of being too image driven. But given the abundance of text centric sites out there, I think I'd sooner err on the side of photos and video, most of which are beautiful on Soul of Athens.
I particularly liked the Die Donkey Skull piece. Dawn2Dusk also is a nice look at Athens from sunrise to sunset.
For interactivity, they've made it very easy to share each piece, and they have a blog and a Flickr group featuring user-submitted images of Athens.
All in all, great stuff. I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes from here ...
Posted by Bob Benz at 9:27 AM | Comments (0)
May 19, 2007
Hijos de Peru
These kids followed us around at the lake In Peru like a pack of puppies, and unlike the children in Cuzco, they never asked for anything. They were just out having fun on a Saturday afternoon when the stumbled upon a pair of giant Gringos and decided to make the most of it. They really made the day special.
I've pulled together some of the better shots of kids that I took while I was in Peru, and you can see them here
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:04 PM | Comments (0)
May 18, 2007
LBJ at Machu Picchu
America's littlest president, LBJ, also made the trip to Machu Picchu with me and Wes, where we wreaked a little havoc and shared tales of tequila, Texas and the American way.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:46 PM | Comments (3)
May 12, 2007
Cloud Forest Flower
I'm not certain what the name of this flower is. Might be some sort of orchid. There were a lot of them in the cloud forest that surrounds the Machu Picchu Pueblo Hotel in Aguas Calientes.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:23 PM | Comments (0)
The Crop Circles of Moray
This is an HDR shot of Moray, a series of circular terraces that archeologists believe the Incans used as some sort of agricultural test center, growing various crops in the microclimates that each terrace provides. This is an unrestored site. There is another site here that has been restored and gives a clearer idea of what it must have looked like in Incan times. Those are the Urubamba and Vilcabamba mountain ranges in the distance. We arrived early and had the place to ourselves, providing some of the most spectacular vistas of the trip.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:22 PM | Comments (0)
Sunset over Miraflores
This is an HDR shot of the Pacific Ocean shot from the Miraflores section of Lima around sunset. This was taken from LarcoMar, a mall built into the cliffs above the ocean. It's not only a great mall, but they also have a great cigar store packed with Cubans.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:13 PM | Comments (0)
Corn Fields and a Lake
This is an HDR photo of a lake where we ate lunch one afternoon in Peru. Corn fields ran down to the water's edge, and the mountains loomed in the distance. Toss in brooding skies and you have a pretty phenomenal HDR image.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:13 PM | Comments (0)
The Salt Mines
This HDR photo was taken at the Salineras, vast salt mines near Tarabamba. There are about 3,000 squares terraced into the valley, and families can own up to 9 squares. People have been mining salt here since Incan times.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:13 PM | Comments (0)
Las Montanas
Drama, pure and simple. The clouds and mountains combine for a great HDR shot at Moray, an ancient Incan agricultural test ground. These are the Urubamba and Vilcabamba mountain ranges.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:12 PM | Comments (1)
A Peruvian Cemetery
This is a cemetery in the hills above the Urubamba River Valley. Hernan and I went hiking after lunch one afternoon and stumbled across this. I had to shoot it through the gate, which was locked.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:12 PM | Comments (0)
The Urubamba River Valley
The Urubamba River snakes through the valley with the town clearly visible on the opposite bank. I think that's a bullfighting rink down there near the water, and somewhere down there is Hernan's aunt's house. This is another HDR shot that I took during my trip to Peru.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:11 PM | Comments (0)
Ollantaytambo views
This is somewhere near Ollantaytambo, I think. HDR provides a neat contrast between the mountains in the distance and the wildflowers in the forground.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:11 PM | Comments (0)
Cloud Forest Waterfall
This is an HDR shot of a waterfall in the cloud forest that surrounds the Machu Picchu Pueblo Hotel in Aguas Calientes, a short bus ride from Machu Picchu.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:10 PM | Comments (0)
Cloud Forest River
An HDR photo of the river in the cloud forest that surrounds the Machu Picchu Pueblo Hotel in Aguas Calientes, a short bus ride from Machu Picchu.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:09 PM | Comments (0)
Perros de Peru
While I was traveling in Peru, I was astounded by the number of dogs I saw. Perhaps even more astounded by the fact that most of them were in pretty good shape, even the ones that obviously were strays. Peruvians apparently love their dogs, and that's just another reason to love Peruvians. Here are a few pictures I took of dogs I encountered during my travels, including the hairless dog of Peru in this photo, which was taken at the pre-Incan pyramid of Huaca Huallamarca in the San Isidro section of Lima. Apparently, this forlorn creature is Peru's national pooch.
Posted by Bob Benz at 6:50 PM | Comments (0)
May 9, 2007
Machu Picchu in HDR
Here's an HDR shot of Machu Picchu. Hernan and I hiked up into the hills, which left me panting and sweating. But it was worth it to get this view of the Incan ruins. Once I caught my breath, I took this shot and a few others from the same vantage. With more distance, it's easier to see how well the stone work melds into the surrounding landscape. This was taken at around sunset, right after a light rain had abated.
Posted by Bob Benz at 5:45 PM | Comments (2)
Sexy woman ...
Here's an HDR shot of the Incan ruins of Saqsaywaman (pronounced Sexy Woman). This is where Manco Inca almost defeated the Spaniards, but a last ditch attempt run allowed the Spaniards to break through the Incan lines. From there, they chased the Incans all the way to the jungle. I really love the way the HDR technique made the clouds pop in this photo.
Posted by Bob Benz at 5:40 PM | Comments (0)
Cusco viewed from Saqsaywaman
This HDR photo of the Incan ruins Saqsaywaman (pronounced Sexy Woman) was taken while I was in Peru. That's Cuzco sprawling out in the valley below. Saqsaywaman is Quechua for "satisfied falcon." The lights and darks in Peru's mountains completely lend themselves to HDR photography.
Posted by Bob Benz at 5:36 PM | Comments (0)
Salt of the earth
Nowhere is the line from Incans to modern Andeans more clear than here at the Salineras, vast salt mines near Tarabamba.
I have to admit, I was underwhelmed at the prospect of going to salt mines after drifting through the Moray circles and taking in the mountain vistas a little while ago.
But as I stand in the middle of the salt mines, I'm astounded by the scale of the operation. About 3,000 squares of various sizes are terraced into the valley, and each family gets a maximum of nine. The plots are passed from generation to generation, and people have beeing mining salt here since Incan times.
As we watch several people working their squares, much as their ancestors did years ago, I make a mental note not to question Hernan when he's laying out the day's itinerary ...
Posted by Bob Benz at 11:07 AM | Comments (0)
Buenas vistas
We arrive in Moray early, and the dividend we receive for our quick start to the day is an opportunity to wander the ruins in solitude, amazed by the circular Incan stonework that likely was some sort of agricultural test grounds. The views of the Urubamba and Vilcabamba mountain ranges in the distance are astounding, some of the most beautiful vistas I've seen send Machu Picchu.
As we arrive, a flock of caracara (vultures) hop around on the ground and soar in vast wings.
What an amazing way to start a day ...
Posted by Bob Benz at 11:02 AM | Comments (0)
Truckin'
"This is the best food I've ever had from the back of a truck," Wes told Tammy as we ate lunch in the shadow of a waterfall in the Urubamba River valley.
A perplexed look crossed Tammy's face until she realized Wes was offering the ultimate compliment. Then she broke into a wide smile.
Tammy is the owner of Cicciolina restaurant in Cuzco, and one of her specialties is cooking picnic lunches on site in various scenic spots throughout the Sacred Valley. She and two assistants arrive in a 4-wheel-drive truck, bringing all the fixings and a propane tank for cooking. They set up a tent. Ice down the wine. And lunch is served.
We had lunch this way two days in a row.
First, we dined near the waterfall. The food was incredible and included our second taste of cuy (guina pig), this time as part of a tuna salad that was strikingly different from anything I'd ever had.
The second day, Tammy, an Australian ex-pat who has lived in Peru for 10 years, was supposed to be serving barbecue. But Hernan knew Wes was hankering for a steak, and he managed to get the menu changed at the last minute. So while sheep grazed nearby, Wes and I dug into a couple of delicious grilled steaks. Tammy had to adjust for the altitude when cooking the steaks, noting that it would take 20 minutes to get Hernan's steak well done. Even then, it came out closer to medium. I could only imagine the adjustments baking must take at this altitude.
For the triple play, we dropped by Cicciolina for lunch while we were in Cuzco. And again, we marveled at how good the food was. I had scallops backed on the shells, lamb shank and a poached pear. Delicioso, even if there wasn't a roaring waterfall or scenic lake nearby as we dined ...
Posted by Bob Benz at 10:47 AM | Comments (0)
Portrait of the artist as a young scam
"I am the artist," Armando said, smiling broadly as we took a photo of him holding the works we had just bought. "See. This is my signature. Armando."
Armando had approached us the same way many vendors had, but he carried a portfolio complete with various artworks. All nice stuff, ranging from monochrome reflections on Cuzco to colorful celebrations of Andean culture.
The drawings were about U.S. $30 each, so Wes bought one and I bought two. Armando took our money. He even let us hold the entire portfolio while he ran off to get change. When he returned, we took his photo. And we were on our way.
About an hour later, another teen approached us with a portfolio near the Mercado Central. He proudly displayed his creations, urging us to take a look.
"I am the artist," he said. "See. It is signed 'Miguel.'"
Then Wes spotted an exact replica of one of the works Armando had shown us. But instead of the signature "Armando" in the lower right, this one had "Miquel" in the lower left.
That's when it hit us like a velvet Elvis that we'd been had, prompting us both to chuckle sheepishly. But I still like the prints I bought, even if I overpaid for them.
"The only difference," I told Wes, "is that now I'll buy cheaper frames for them."
The beauty of this was that it allowed us to call bullshit on subsequent scammers who approached with portfolios and original artworks. And approach us they did. The look on their face was hilarious as they realized we had figured out the game and weren't going to be fooled again.
Posted by Bob Benz at 10:34 AM | Comments (0)
A trip to the market
"Give me your camera," Hernan said as we approached the stone gate on Santa Clara. From there, the road continues up the hill away from the main plaze in Cuzco, toward the San Pedro Train Station.
I thought he wanted to take a photo of the gate, but he really wanted to tuck it into his backpack for safekeeping. The area around the market is rougher than the central plaza, where the police keep a vigilant eye on things.
The market was closed for its Sunday cleaning, but that didn't stop hundreds of vendors from setting up shop on the sidewalks and alleys that radiate out from the main building. The crush of people weaving through narrow walkways between stalls was truly claustrophobic, and at a few points I wanted to veer off in search of elbow room. It was easy to see how someone could do a grab-and-run and disappear into the throng. But while we navigated the crowd, I didn't see or hear anything that concerned me. Maybe Wes and I -- 600 pounds of unmitigated Gringo -- posed an intimidating enough presence to ward off any evil-doers who might be lurking nearby. We did get lots of looks, though, and children tended to dub us "los gigantes (the giants)" or, in less diplomatic terms, "los gordos (the fat guys)."
I spotted one stall that featured a bucket filled with 4-foot-tall cactus arms.
"Que es?" I asked Hernan.
"San Pedro cactus. It's hallucinogenic."
We stopped for a closer look, causing the crowd to bounce around us like water bounding off rocks blocking a stream. The woman running the stall instantly went into sales mode, speaking in Spanish about the cactus and then pulling out a box of roots that turned out to be ayahuasca, which local shamans also use in hallucinogenic religious rites. I was surprised to see it being sold so opening, but no one else seemed to think it unusual. I almost bought one of her good luck charms, but it was a small vial with some sort of liquid in it. I didn't want to find out at Customs that the liquid was a nefarious substance.
In the end, we ventured on, deciding Peru was enough of a trip without using psychedelic plants to enhance the experience.
Posted by Bob Benz at 10:18 AM | Comments (0)
Coming up for air
The altitude hit me really hard Saturday night in Cuzco. There were several times that I awoke gasping for air. It was similar to the feeling I get during an asthma attack, but my inhalers offered no relief.
Apparently, Hotel Monasterio will pump extra oxygen into your room for about $30/night, but by Sunday morning I had acclimated and wasn't having problems.
Posted by Bob Benz at 10:13 AM | Comments (0)
Taxing attire
The stereotypical, colorful Andean garb really isn't a relic of the Incan empire, according to Hernan. It was introduced by the Spanish after the conquest to identify various groups of people and regions for taxation purposes ...
Posted by Bob Benz at 10:11 AM | Comments (2)
May 8, 2007
Tossing chum in the water
Children selling shoeshines, finger puppets, postcards and cigarettes navigate the narrow streets of Cuzco like a pack of piranhas. Once they smell gringo dollars, they start a frenzied circling motion and spin up their pitch, which is well-rehearsed and fairly uniform.
"Want to buy a postcard?"
"No, gracias."
"Why not?"
"No es necessario."
"Where you from?"
"Los Estados Unidos."
"Ahhhh. The capital is Washington. The president is George Booosh. Before him was Clinton. Before him was another Booosh. Before him was Reagan. Before him was ..."
And on and on. Sometimes it's a chance to practice my Spanish. Others it's just annoying.
They are all orphans.
They all have five brothers and sisters.
They all make 10 nuevos soles per day (about 3 bucks). But today they have made nothing and want something to eat.
It tries my patience because after you've heard it once, it's so obviously a come-on. But I try to be gracious and humorous. I even learned that singing "no no no no no no no" in a descending scale as they persist with their pitch draws a smile and makes them realize the answer really is "no" and that "no," I won't want to buy that postcard "maybe later," either.
Posted by Bob Benz at 9:19 AM | Comments (1)
Hay agua
It´s easy to marvel at the Incans´ skilled masonry, but one thing that really pops out at me is their command of water. They were brilliant at channeling it for agricultural and aesthetic purposes. Their fountains are marvelous. It´s humbling to stand in front of the tingling waters and realize this sound has been reverberating through the nearby stone for hundreds of years. And it´s all by design. It would be hard not to incorporate rushing water into the architecture here. Cascading mountain springs are the Sacred Valley´s soundtrack. The distant roar of water is always present, at Machu Picchu, in Urumbamba, in Cuzco. And the Incans echoed it as they built their cities.
Posted by Bob Benz at 9:07 AM | Comments (0)
On pottery and politics
Marilu Behar is describing pottery technique in a video at Seminario Ceramicas in Urubamba, and I am instantly smitten. She has a quietly direct yet impassioned demeanor and though I am reading the English subtitles in the video, I am listening closely to the cadence of her Spanish.
I´m even more smitten an hour later when I find myself sitting in the courtyard in waning light, discussing art and contemporary Peruvian politics with her. I´ve just purchased several beautiful works that were done under Pablo Seminario´s direction here, and I´m waiting for Wes to finish his purchases.
Marilu is keenly concerned about the rise of Hugo Chavez in Venezuela and fears his socialist ideology will ripple through the Americas. The Chavez-sanctioned candidate was defeated in the last election, but they might not be so fortunate when Peruvians vote for president again in a few years.
¨People here aren´t poor,¨ Marilu says in flawless English. ¨But the message of getting things for free is irresistible.¨ I think about it for a moment. By U.S. standards, these folks are poor. But everyone appears to get plenty to eat and their lifestyle is more agricultural than poor. They work the fertile fields and live in humble adobe or cement homes. Even the countless dogs I´ve seen during my travels here are, by and large, well-fed and content, not like some of the canine skeletons I´ve seen limping along the roads in Jamaica. I´m sure abject poverty does exist in Peru, but here in the Sacred Valley I´m not seeing strong signs of it.
During the Shining Path´s reign of terror, Marilu and her partner, Pablo Seminario, were threatened but nothing came of it. She has friends in Venezuela who are trying to flee Chavez´s socialist government, but now they can´t sell their homes and are trapped, though some apparently are migrating to Miami and other locations.
But Marilu is determined to remain in Peru, even though she´s gravely concerned for what the future will bring. That Shining Path´s ghost still haunts the nation, and a few recent acts of terrorism are raising concerns that the next presidential election could prove a watershed event.
Marilu concedes that the rise of tourism here has been a mixed blessing. The influx of foreign money is driving land prices up and making things difficult on many levels, but it also is raising the standard of living. A Chavez-inspired socialist regime likely would do much to quash this and return things to the bleak, uncertain times when fear of the Shining Path drove away foreign investment.
*******************
Seminario Ceramicas is an amazing studio run by Pablo and his partner, Marilu. Squawking macaws and amazon parrots skulk around a beautiful courtyard while a pack of German shepherds pads back and forth, trying to stay as close to Pablo as possible. Pablo and Marilu´s son leads us on a tour of the various studios, explaining the techniques used to create pots, plates and artworks along the way.
Afterward, when dusk has taken the courtyard, I peer into a round cage that houses a tiny monkey, possibly some sort of squirrel monkey. He´s at the bottom of the enclosure, snuggled up with two large rabbits who are his housemates. He opens his eyes briefly when he senses my presence, takes me in and nods off again.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:29 AM | Comments (0)
Heads of the household
¨This,¨ Hernan says proudly, ¨is the room where I was born.¨
Well, not quite. He is one room off, as his aunt quickly informs him. But it is clear how proud he is of his origins.
Hernan has brought us to his aunt´s block-long home in Urubamba to show us where he came from and to give us a glimpse into daily life.
The house is a series of rooms that surround a large courtyard, big enough to embrace corn, animals, herbs, tomoatoes, patio and a German shepherd cross named Lobo. Since Hernan´s uncle died, there´s been no one to maintain the gardens, and several of the rooms have been rented out. Hernan moved out when he was still a child. But his aunt still operates a small store in one corner of the house, complete with a pack of dogs who peer out through the wrought iron gate and yap at anyone who happens by.
We walk through musty room after musty room, my grandmother´s house pops into my mind. Each closed-up room is a trove of old photos and memories, and I recall as a child wandering into the unused rooms at grandma´s to explore the past much as Hernan is doing today.
The home´s main entrance is a heavy wood door with an imposing padlock on it, and behind that is a second doorway that spills out into the courtyard. Above this second doorway perches a shelf where several skulls rest, along with offerings of fresh flowers, chicha corn beer and other votives. Hernan´s ancestors rest here, guarding the household against trouble.
¨Too bad Wes doesn´t have this,¨ Hernan says, implying that ancestral skulls might have protected Wes´ home from the break-in it suffered while he´s been in Peru.
I flash on this for a moment, and it´s immediately clear folks in the U.S. would be completely creeped out at the prospect of having their ancestors´ skulls on a shelf in their homes. But the Peruvians´ attitude toward the deceased is similar to what I´ve seen during my travels in Mexico, and in some ways it´s a healthier way to come to terms with mortality. It´s omnipresent. Ever possible. Not something that´s relegated to a cemetery and thought of only once a year when you arrive with flowers to remember the dead.
¨One day, my skull might be up there,¨ Hernan says, pointing to the shelf with a smile that doesn´t quite reveal if his statement is jest or a benign acceptance of the inevitable.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:07 AM | Comments (0)
On cars and condors ...
During my time in Peru, I´ve been amazed at how the natural world infused the Incans´ worldview. Machu Picchu looks like a condor when viewed from neighboring heights. The mountain near Picara is a crouching puma. And the Sacred Valley mirrors the heavens.
The Incans saw the familiar in the world around them, and they used their architecture to reflect those images back at nature.
I caught a glimpse of how strongly this impulse lives in the local people while walking near the Urubamba River with Hernan, a local woman and her two children. The woman pointed up at the cliffs in the distance and insisted she saw the shape of a car there. After squinting a bit toward the heights, I finally saw what she was talking about. This descendant of the Incans still looks for the familiar in the local geography, and if the similarities are more likely to take the shape of a diesel-breathing car than a soaring condor, so be it.
Posted by Bob Benz at 7:58 AM | Comments (0)
A taste of cuy
While in Peru, Wes and I wanted to sample the local delicacy called cuy, or guinea pig. We´d already seen them being raised in a local home. Now we wanted to get a taste of one.
Hernan took us to a small restaurant in Urubamba where we were presented with a plate of grilled cuy, complete with potatoes, stuffed peppers, cheese and corn on the cob. Three cops sat slurping soup at the table next to us, watching a midday newscast.
It took me a moment to get past the fact that the cooked critter on our plate still looks very much like a cuddly guinea pig, from its head to its curled up toes. But as I dig in, I´m sold.
Wes is underwhelmed, though he doesn´t dislike it. He compares the taste to rabbit or squirrel, though I haven´t eaten enough of either to say for sure. But one thing is certain. It doesn´t taste like chicken. The meat is darker, some would call it greasy, and it´s slightly stringy. The cuy is stuffed with the herb huacatay, which infuses it with a very distinct flavor. Later, during a hike through the fields, Hernan picks up a spring of huacatay and shows it to me, it´s scent instantly reminding me of the grilled cuy.
Hernan says some people devour two or three cuy at one sitting, washing it down with chicha (a fermented corn drink), but we´re splitting one four ways. As we finish off the cuy, Aldo calls dibs on the brain. Apparently, that´s the choice tidbit. Wes and I gladly relent.
Posted by Bob Benz at 7:42 AM | Comments (0)
Take me to the river
Hernan and I have just finished a rambling hike down out of the hills that rise up out of the Urubamba River valley, and we´re standing on the main road.
¨Want to go down to the river?¨ Hernan asks.
¨Sure.¨
We cross the road, and Hernan asks a woman there about the easiest way to get down to the water. She points the way and begins walking with us, smiling broadly. As we turn onto a trail that runs past her adobe home, her 10-year-old son and 5-year-old daughter join us. Most of the discussion in in Spanish and directed at Hernan, but when she learns I speak un poquito de Spanish she makes an effort to include me as we walk single-file on a narrow path that runs through corn fields toward the Urubamba.
Pointing to a large rock perched precariously from the hills on the opposite bank, she tells us the tale of a woman thief who was hanged there years ago. Her gold earrings apparently were lost during the hanging, and they´re still up there. Somewhere.
The entire time, I´m astonished at how open and welcoming this woman is to the giant Gringo and his Cusqueno guide. And the children are delightful, frolicking like puppies in the fields, taunting as pig we pass and giggling as a cow begins to bellow in the distance.
This land belongs to the woman´s mother and she´s clearly proud of it. After we pause to admire the swift-flowing Urubamba, we walk back to the highway, where Wes and Aldo await in the van, ready to venture onward. I´m not to surprised to find that Wes is surrounded by a group of children, and he´s showing them how to make paper airplanes.
Before we depart, the woman who shepherded us through her fields to the river insists that I return soon, next time with my wife. The children smile and wave as we motor down the road, and I can only hope that I do return one day.
Posted by Bob Benz at 7:26 AM | Comments (0)
May 3, 2007
Machu Picchu
Upon arriving in Aguas Calientes Tuesday, Hernan and I grabbed a 3 o´clock bus to Machu Picchu to see the ruins at sunset (Wes remained behind at the hotel, trying to fight off a nasty case of turista.).
A serpentine, dusty bus ride up countless switchbacks took us to the lost city.
All I can say is ˇincreible! Words really don´t cut it. Clouds crowned the surrounding mountains while sparrows and swallows tittered excitedly in the waning day. And almost on cue, a soft mist began to fall, refracting the sun´s setting rays into a rainbow that arced from the twisting Rio Vilcanota to Wayna Picchu.
We stayed for about an hour and a half, just soaking in the view and trying to imagine what it must have been like when Machu Picchu was buzzing with life. The experience was especially intimate because there was almost no one there. Just a handful of tourists, llamas, a pair of chinchillas and the soaring birds.
After catching the sunset, we decided to return early Wednesday for the sunrise. Wes had recovered and joined us.
The trip up was more crowded, and it was more difficult to capture the sublime solitude of the night before, but it still was spectacular. The sun streamed in through the surrounding peaks, making Machu Picchu´s stone structures shimmer in the dawn.
We spent about five hours touring the site. The Incans mirrored the heavens and earth with their architecture. Hernan´s sage guidance gave us great insight into the various features at Machu Picchu, and he told us that even though it was more crowded than the previous night, it really wasn´t that bad overall. That was tough to believe as we ate lunch, watching bus after bus grind to a dusty halt and disgorge 33 tourists, looking a little stunned after the twisting trip in.
Posted by Bob Benz at 1:09 PM | Comments (0)
Hernan y Aldo
Hernan, our guide, and Aldo, our driver, have spent more time with us than any pair of Peruvians should have to endure. They´re great guys and have done much to make this trip phenomenal.
+++++++++++++++++++++
Hernan is a Cusqueno, and the Incan sites he is showing us were built by his ancestors. This land is something that speaks to his soul. As we walk through the lush, rambling cloud forrest at Machu Picchu Pueblo Hotel, Hernan stops at each plant, each orchid and says its name reverently, repeating it a time or two. He does this as he names various Incan features, too, and at first I assumed he is helping me learn the names. But eventually I come to believe it´s more akin to a sacred chant for him. Even growing up here, he still clearly is in awe of this place.
+++++++++++++++++++++
Aldo is the guy who gets us where we´re going. He´s about 15 years older than Hernan, about my age (44), and his English is limited. But after spending a few days on the road together, we´ve gotten to know him pretty well. In fact, his 10-year-old son looks a lot like me, and Aldo pulls out photos to prove it. Poor kid. Aldo is a very good driver, striking a smart balance between being cautiously aggressive and blind crazy.
The only time I was fearful on the roads was when we were returning from the Pisac site Monday night. It´s autumn here, and dusk slides in quickly around 5 or 6 o´clock. At the same time, the roads fill with people walking, pedalling and driving home from working in the fields, often without lights or reflectors. I´m not sure how Aldo did it, but he steered us home safely, despite one near collision with a pair of stray cows who scampered into our path.
Posted by Bob Benz at 12:56 PM | Comments (0)
Palabras locas
Spending time with Hernan gives great insight into what a capricious bitch the English language is. His English is excellent. But still he gets tripped up by the language´s lack of logic and consistency.
¨Miss¨ and ¨lose¨ are particularly troubling. Hernan can´t get his head around why it´s ¨miss the bus¨ and not ¨lose the bus.¨ I try to explain but eventually resort to ¨It just is.¨
We also get amusement when he tries to translate a menu item and it comes out ¨rolling chicken.¨ I start stabbing the table with my fork, trying to spear the tumbling entree, which really is ¨rolled chicken.¨
Hernan speaks English, Spanish and Quechua fluently, and my presence gives him a chance to learn new words and ask about meanings. It works both ways. My Spanish has always been piss-poor, but I´ve been taking this opportunity to exercise it, sometimes with horrible results. Once the conversation drifts past three-word phrases in present tense, I´m in trouble, as bartender Marcello found out when he tried to talk to me about futbol. When it was all said and done, I tipped him profusely, mostly out of guilt for the way I had just savaged his language.
A few other interesting linguistic gymnatics ...
-- ¨Sing, you bastards.¨ The phrase on the back of Hernan´s baseball cap, which he hadn´t noticed when he purchased it at Cuzco second-hand store. It´s a Rodney Carrington cap, and Hernan clearly had no idea who the U.S. comedian is. He just liked the color (blue) and the RC on the front.
-- ¨El hogalito.¨ Wes´s attempt to describe the young wild hogs he hunts in Texas.
-- ¨Condor delicioso.¨ We ate a lot of chicken during our trip, and Hernan took to referring to it as ¨condor.¨ After we returned to Lima, I extended the joke, telling our guide how much we enjoyed eating condor during our trip to the Sacred Valley. She looked perplexed, a little concerned. Then she assumed that maybe I was just mangling Spanish ... so she pushed. ¨You mean you saw a condor?¨ ¨No, we ate them,¨ I finally said of the endagered birds in English, and as a look of horror came over her face, I let her in on the joke.
Posted by Bob Benz at 12:43 PM | Comments (0)
Taking flight
(May 2) -- I´m sitting here at the Inkaterra hotel in the Sacred Valley, watching a hummingbird molest a encarnada cantuta flower while I sip coca tea. This mornin we catch the train at Ollatantambo and ride to Aquas Calientes, where we´ll be a 25-minute bus ride from Machu Picchu, the high point of the trip.
Tingling with anticipation and coca tea, I´ve elevated Machu Picchu onto a sort of pedestal. I keep saying we´re going ¨up¨ to Machu Picchu, and each time Hernan dutifully reminds me that in fact, Machu Picchu is at a lower elevation than Cusco and Ollatantambo.
Posted by Bob Benz at 12:34 PM | Comments (0)
A sexy woman in the Sacred Valley
When our guide, Hernan, said we were going to see ¨sexy woman,¨ our driver, Aldo, smiled knowingly.
Imagine our disappointment when we realized our destination really was Saqsaywaman, which does indeed sound like ¨sexy woman.¨ Quechua names can be really tough to get your tongue around, so this helpful pronuniation guide was much appreciated. In Quechua, the name means ¨satisfied falcon.¨
Saqsaywaman is where Manco Inca, the Incan king who started as the Spaniards´ puppet but went on to lead a full-blown rebellion, almost wiped out an army led by Francisco Pizarro´s brother, Juan. But the Spaniards prevailed against long odds, prompting an Incan retreat to Ollatantambo and ultimately deep into the jungle.
There´s a sprawling parade ground at Saqsaywaman, and Hernan says he and his friends used to camp and play futbol there when they were children. It´s hard to imagine what it must be like to grow up in the stone embrace of these Incan ancestors.
Posted by Bob Benz at 12:26 PM | Comments (0)
A perfecto landing
Wes and I both were nursing pisco hangovers during our early morning flight from Lima to Cusco, but even the misery of being crammed into microscopic coach seats couldn´t dim the beauty of seeing the snow-capped Andes peek through the clouds as we began our descent into Cusco.
Once we dropped beneath the clouds, we saw the airport´s runways stretched out in the valley, hemmed in by incredible peaks. After the pilot landed the plane, the cabin broke out in polite applause, as if a symphony had just concluded.
Posted by Bob Benz at 12:21 PM | Comments (0)
Honk if you love Lima
Several of the guide books I consulted were decidedly down on Lima. Big. Polluted. Noisy.
All true, but it definitely has its positives. The Miraflores and San Isidro sections are beautiful and very livable, and even the grittier areas have a certain charm. Of course, I like sprawling, honking, sweaty cities. And Lima fits the bill.
Drivers here are conquistadores of the carretera, and their bleating horns practically dare you to step in front of them. It´s such a contrast to rural parts of Jamaica and Peru´s Sacred Valley, where the horn is more a conversational tool. ¨I´m passing you.¨ ¨Coming up behind you, heads-up.¨ ¨Step aside, wayward llama.¨ There´s no real aggression there. Just information. Not so in Lima ...
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The city boasts several remarkable churches and pre-Incan ruins. Too much, really, to see in a single day. I´m hoping to get another taste during our final day in Peru, which we´ll spend in Lima. The Santuario de San Francisco stood out, with its creep catacombs where skulls and bones are arranged in odd homage to the 70,000-some souls who rest there. I also enjoyed our visits to Huaca Huallamarca and Huaca Pucllana, pre-Incan sites of spectacular adobe pyramids.
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Our exit from Lima gave us a glimpse of the city´s true heart. As our cab raced through 4:30 a.m. streets, we came upon the San Miguel neighborhood. Taxis lined the streets while wobbly limeńos spilled out of Tequila Discoteca and other clubs that could barely contain the music inside.
Posted by Bob Benz at 12:08 PM | Comments (0)
Dining with Diego
During our first day in Lima, Wes and I had lunch at Astrid y Gaston in the Miraflores neighborhood. Apparently owner Gaston Acurio is something of a man about town, Peru´s answer to Emeril.
This was my first taste of authentic cebiche (raw fish marinated with lime juice), and as I marveled at how good it was, I noticed one of the paintings nearby. It looked like something from Diego Rivera´s Cubist period, and damned if it wasn´t signed ¨Rivera.¨
Could it be?
I asked the waiter, who confirmed that it is indeed a Diego original.
Bon appetite!
Posted by Bob Benz at 12:00 PM | Comments (0)
Peru: The llama, the puma and the serpent
We´re standin in the magnificent choir loft of Monasterio de San Francisco, and my guide, Olinda, is a bit frustrated with me. She´s trying to explain key features of the loft, but my eyes have drifted down toward the altar, where a priest is saying Mass in front of a packed house. Above them, at eye level with me, pigeons flap back and forth among the rafters. Below them, in the dank, claustrophobic catacombs, lie the bones of 70,000-some people.
It seems the perfect metaphor for the three themes that constantly recur during my trip to Peru -- the heavens, the earth and the underworld.
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In the Miraflores section of Lima, we walk the adobe pyramid of Huaca Pucllana. This pre-Incan structure dates back to about 400 A.D. While we admire the granduer of Peru´s past, several hundred well-dressed Peruvians celebrate a wedding at Restaurant Huaca Pucllana, the sound of their music and laughter reverberating off the ancient pyramid before them.
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We´re making our way through the narrow streets of Ollatantambo in the Sacred Valley when a woman beckons us into her home to see guinea pigs, or cuy as they´re called in Spanish. It´s part a ploy to get us to look at the weavings and other crafts she has for sale, but it´s also a chance to get a look inside one of the village homes. Several children scurry around, and the ´´cuy, cuy, cuy´´ of the guinea pigs fills the room. There must be three dozen of them darting around, destined for the dinner plate. They´re a delicacy here in Peru (In fact, there is a Last Supper painting in the main cathedral in Cusco that features Christ getting ready to chow down on a baked guinea pig while a shifty Francisco Pizarro plays Judas in the lower left.).
But my attention quickly shifts from the cuying cuy to an altar that features a wide assortment of votives, including the skulls of two of the family´s ancestors, presiding over the daily rituals of the living.
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At one Incan site after another, our guide, Hernan, points out repeated images of the heavens, the earth and the underworld as represented by the Andean condor, the puma and the serpent
In fact, Machu Picchu´s layout looks strikingly like a condor in flight when viewed from the nearby heights of Waynapicchu peak. And three stone steps -- the underworld, the earth and heaven -- is a leitmotif that appears at Incan site after Incan site.
Posted by Bob Benz at 11:34 AM | Comments (0)