The "Healing" House

I reluctantly agreed to sign up for a yoga class at Healing House Cusco, wondering if the hype that I had heard about yoga was real. I had never been a yoga person, nor had anyone in my family. That being said, I had no idea what to expect, but figured it would fall on a spectrum involving a blend of athletic and hippy. Having played hockey since I was around 6 years old, I thought that yoga couldn’t be impossible, and that I was definitely athletic enough to take on whatever challenge presented itself.

I climbed the steps to the Healing House, and was already out of breath, just a slight foreshadowing of what was to come. I immediately deemed myself a fish out of water, unaware of the equipment necessary for each class participant, in addition to the stark contrast in the clothing that I was wearing, being one of the only people in the room who had kept their socks on. Not long after the class began, which to my surprise was mainly in English, I realized I had never heard a majority of the instructions before, and was therefore left to model my stretching and movements based off of others. A lady just to my left seemed to be quite involved in the yoga scene, bringing her own equipment, along with a fresh brewed tea to sip in between movements. I based my pitiful attempts at the movements and yoga largely on her, but it seemed as if I would never be able to move my limbs to such extremes no matter how much I practiced.

The other class participants seemed to be able to keep up with the instructor, who seemed to truly embody a hippy, repeatedly encouraging us to channel our emotions into the earth through our feet flat on the ground, which was yet another body movement I failed to achieve. A few others embodied the hippy vibe in their dress, looking as if they had just come from the trail into the yoga room. As I struggled to keep up with the movements and could not appear as suave or fluid as anyone else, I began to view yoga not as a stress reliever, but as a stress creator, highlighting my identity as an extranjero in this environment that was new to me. Furthermore, this stress was only highlighted the next day, manifesting itself as physical body soreness from an activity that one imagines will bring peace and relaxation.

Huffing and Puffing

Every time I climb the seeming 15 stories up to my room, I am reminded of how high up we are. Upon entering our Cuscoan equivalent of a penthouse apartment, I practically need to lay down on the ground to regain my breath. I knew we’d be hiking on this trip, but no one told me I’d be hiking to my room every single day. My tiny flatlander respiratory system is just about useless up here.

Before coming to Cusco, I had thought that the altitude would be similar to that of Aspen, Colorado. It wasn’t until I got here that I realized that we were quite a bit higher, about 3,200 feet higher to be exact; it was then that I also realized why several people had recommended altitude medicine. I got sick in the first week in Pisac from the altitude, but have felt fairly okay since.

The moral of this blog is to take altitude medication when advised and to stop skipping steps when walking up the stairs. Coca and oxygen bottles aren’t mandatory, but having some mate to sip on and oxygen to huff on would definitely be high on my life-at-altitude list.

Beverages in Cusco: Café, Jugo y Agua sin Gas

           When friends and family back home found out that I would be traveling to Perú, there was a recurring phrase that surfaced. Delivered with the gravity of a groundbreaking scientific discovery, they advised me, “don’t drink the water.” Without a doubt, there exists compelling scientific research regarding the connection between drinking tap water and traveler’s diarrhea. Culturally speaking, however, I found that the water stigma also served to clearly define our group as outsiders. In order to have a relatively stable supply of clean water, we were obliged to regularly buy 2.5-liter plastic bottles of water. This was a practical necessity, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit ridiculous carrying a massive water bottle around with me around Cusco. 

            Another interesting difference regarding water emerged when we started visiting Peruvian restaurants. Carbonated water appears far more often on Peruvian menus than it does on menus in the U.S. If you ask a waiter for water, they respond with, “¿Con gas o sin gas?” Aside from the recent fixation on LaCroix, carbonated water does not have as much popularity in the U.S. I wonder how this tradition emerged—did it emerge as a further separation between “clean water” and “tap water”? If carrying around a plastic water bottle served as an indicator of the elite status awarded to visitors, did carbonated water emerge as a further marker of prestige? Perhaps this is a stretch, but I am very curious as to how this tradition emerged. 

            In addition to the bottled water tradition, I also realized that fruit juices played an important role in Perú’s culinary scene. You would be hard pressed to find a menu in Cusco in which fresh fruit juices are not an option. The fruit here is incredibly fresh, so restaurants offer fruit juices with every meal. On menus in the states, the lines of potential beverages generally pertain to the different types of pop that they offer. Here, “cola, sprite, etc.” only takes up one line, and the rest of the options are various modifications on mixed fruit juices. Instead of the standard offerings of orange and apple juice that I am used to from the U.S., Perú offers mango, pineapple, banana, strawberry, and papaya. Lúcuma and Maracuya are also popular options for juices here, flavors that I had never even heard of before I came to Perú. I wonder if this emphasis on fruit offerings comes from a sort of national pride in Perú’s natural agricultural prosperity. It certainly seems to reflect the cultural feeling of abundance that I’ve noticed here.

            As an avid coffee drinker, I also noticed some differences in the coffee traditions here. First of all, I noticed that it is far more common to mix alcohol with coffee. It’s very easy to find some variation on Irish Coffee on the coffee shop menus here. I also noticed a lack of two stereotypically U.S. traditions; first, an extensive offering of milk options, and, second, the offering of frappuccinos. I’ve become accustomed to the Starbucks-esque listings of milk, ranging from skim to 2% to almond to soy. Here, there’s really only just milk, sometimes lactose-free milk if you’re visiting a particularly adventurous café. Furthermore, while you can get cold coffee, I’ve noticed that frappuccinos (and cold coffee drinks in general) seem to be less prevalent in Perú than in the U.S. In both countries, however, shots of espresso, americanos, and lattes hold the hearts of many. 

            All in all, I’ve noticed several interesting differences between the beverage traditions in the U.S. and Perú. First, due to the conditions of the tap water, visitors are often obliged to walk around with very large plastic water bottles. Secondly, carbonated water holds far more popularity in the restaurant scene in Perú than in the U.S. Thirdly, exotic and varied fruit juices are frequently offered on Peruvian menus. Lastly, the coffee tradition has fewer frozen drinks and milk options, but offers more alcohol-coffee infusions.

Cusco: Food, Drinks, and the market

As my time here in Cusco is coming to an end, I have decided to list my favorite foods, drinks, and market surprises that I have encountered throughout my adventures. Cusco and the surrounding towns are filled with fantastic selections. Below are my favorites!

Foods:

-White fish and trout. This is my go-to at most restaurants. It is healthy and surprisingly tasty. So far, Perú has had some great fish options, and I imagine that it will only get better when we get closer to the sea in Lima.

-It is imperative to try Alpaca while in Perú. Yesterday, I went to Chakruna and had the Alpaca burger. It came with fries and an assortment of sauces. This was my first time trying Alpaca and it did not disappoint! If I had to describe it, Alpaca tastes similar to Lamb.

-Last week, we made our own chocolate at ChocoMuseo. During the chocolate-making class, we were taught the steps of cooking chocolate, starting with the cocoa bean. The process is extremely fascinating and I would recommend this class to anyone in Cusco.

Some of my favorite restaurants:

-Crepería la Bo’m: This place has French crepes turned into Peruvian crepes made with local flower. I ordered the El Huerto crepe, which was a vegetarian crepe with parmesan. I really enjoyed this place because the food was different than anything else I have had in the world.

-Limo: This place has the best sushi and seafood that I have found in Perú. While pricier, Limo was delicious and definitely worth it.

-Chakruna: This burger spot is cheap yet amazing. It is right by our hotel Casa Elena and is worth a visit.

-Monkey Cafe: Monkey Cafe is the best cafe that I have encountered in Cusco. The place is very small, so it may be hard to visit with big groups, but everything there is delicious. Also, they have really great craft beer that is worth trying.

Drinks:

-My go-to beer here in Perú has been Cusqueña trigo and then the Cusqueña dorada, which is the golden lager version. The wheat version is slightly more expensive but better in my opinion.

-I am on my adventure to find the best pisco sour in Perú. I have only had a few, but so far the best one is at Museo del Pisco. While on the pricier side, Museo del Pisco is worth checking out--the live music there is authentic and great.

-While in Perú, I have developed an addiction to tea. My two favorite teas are Manzanilla and Hierba Luisa. I find Manzanilla to be smooth and great in the mornings. Furthermore, Hierba Luisa was key during my initial days in Cusco, as it helped with altitude

-Juices: Try anything with ginger. The ginger drink of the day at Crepería la Bo’m was exceptional. Additionally, the strawberry juice at plaza cafe is extremely refreshing.

Market and street vendors:

-While in Perú, I have noticed that a lot of the vendors carry similar merchandise. Everything is colorful and everyone wants you to visit their shop. When shopping and dealing with street vendors, it is important to know that not everything is hand-made and that it is easy to bargain with vendors regarding their prices. After visiting many shops, it becomes easier to identify what is hand-made and what is machine-made. If something is stitched too perfectly then it is machine-made. Also, you can tell by simply feeling the material.

What's up with all the Inca?!

We've seen it all--Inca tours, Inca laundry, Inca masajes? Everywhere you go, you can find at least 5 different services named "Inca," but why? As we've discussed in class, we know that not everyone in the city of Cusco is a direct descendant of Inca royalty or blood. So why do we see everyone and everything forging a connection to the Incas?

One possible explanation could be the close connection between the Quechua and the Inca. Many native Cusqueños we have met speak both Quechua and Spanish, although the former was their first language. We also know that Quechua was the language of the Incan empire. Perhaps this shows that in an effort to maintain their culture, history, and language, Cusqueños maintain the connection between modern Cusco-Quechua and ancient Inca.

Perhaps it is a mechanism to benefit the tourist industry--after all, how does an Inca laundry service maintain any cultural connections? People all around the world have learned about the ancient and powerful Incan empire, and accordingly may take a trip to visit the ruins of the empire in Peru. Many people visit knowing little about the actual history and culture of the empire, and ultimately leave with little more knowledge. So when tourists see things labeled Inca--Inca laundry, tours, hotels--they may be more inclined to use those services over others under the assumption that it provides a greater cultural experience.

Other than the language connection, it's possible that Cusqueños desire to keep the Incan empire around as much as possible, a way to preserve history. Because of how much ancient history was destroyed during Spanish conquest, little is known to be 100% true about Inca history or culture. Perhaps Cusqueños keep the name "Inca" as a way to make sure that their origin isn't completely erased.

Either way, the importance of the Incan empire cannot be lost on us, and the town of Cusco makes sure of that. Whether as a way to preserve language, history, or tourism, we can see the importance of the Incas on Cusco even today.

Space in Cusco: Sidewalks and Yoga Mats

I have never been one for personal space: I am a big hugger, I have never minded crowds, and I feel comfortable surrounded by strangers. However, on my very first day in Cusco I knew that this city would test even my comfort levels regarding personal space. 

Drivers in Cusco seem to be even more reckless than drivers in Paris, and the streets are incredibly narrow, allowing for just one car on most side streets. Drivers race up and down these tiny streets, with little regard for pedestrian safety, crosswalks, and their proximity to the cars in front and behind them. On these same streets, sidewalks ranging from a few inches wide, to maximum maybe two feet, force pedestrians needing to pass each other to step into the bustling streets. This seemed surprising to me: Cusco is such a big walking city, with little need for taxis or buses (at least for what we need to accomplish- walking to lunches and dinners and classes), so why would drivers seem so impatient and city planning so inefficiently make accessible sidewalks? One hypothesis I have is that this lack of personal space when walking around the city, or even driving, seems to be a natural cultural phenomenon in Cusco. People do not seem to get frustrated when bumped into or jostled about, and the minuscule sidewalks that force people to walk on top of one another seems like a part of daily life. In a city of half of million people, and oh so many tourists, it makes sense that space could be a problem. The prioritization within the downtown part of the city of restaurants, hostels, hotels, and plenty of tends has obviously minimized the width of streets and sidewalks.

This space problem is not limited to city planning however, for our experiences in classes have demonstrated how buildings themselves tend to be more cramped. In our second week, we attended a chocolate making class (absolutely amazing) that was registered for at most 12 people, but there were 16 people in our class around one small table. In our yoga class, there was not a single inch of free space for anyone who arrived late. This did not stop one tourist from arriving 15 minutes into our silent meditation, and hovering over me looking for space. This was especially clear when she dropped her heavy yoga pillow on my face! All of these observations on usage of space are of course not negative ones- they better represent cities like New York in the United States, that have a huge population and ample amounts of tourists, and continue to grow. You can tell that as Cusco continues to grow, sidewalks and streets and spots for yoga mats will continue to dwindle, until it becomes an actual problem that city planners must focus on. 

Rolling Pugs, Spanish Game of Thrones, and the Dog That Followed Us for Four Hours: A Reflection on Ollantaytambo

I was pretty taken aback when I saw how small Ollantaytambo was compared to Cuzco—I don't really know what I was expecting, but I think as someone from a large city, I tend to imagine most other places as large cities. However, Ollantaytambo was much smaller than this, and the center of the town was a single plaza circled by restaurants, bars, and hotels/hostels. Ollantaytambo was still pretty tourist-heavy, which makes sense given that it's on the way to Machu Picchu, but didn't have the same tacky tourist trap vibe that Aguas Calientes did. We happened to be in Ollantaytambo on the day of the Game of Thrones series premiere, so many members of our group settled in to watch it. However, a few fellow non-Game of Thrones-watchers and I set out to explore what Ollantaytambo had to offer at around 7 p.m. Little did we know that this would turn into a four-hour adventure that would leave me fascinated and happily surprised by what Ollantaytambo had to offer.

We began the night by heading to dinner at a restaurant that had been highly-rated on TripAdvisor: Blue Magic. Something I noticed about most restaurants in Ollantaytambo is that many of them have all-day happy hours. I don't know if this was exclusive to the one day we were there—though I don't think so given that it was a Sunday night—or if this is a daily occurrence and consequently a significant difference from restaurants in Cuzco. This can be attributed to a variety of factors: it might be a means to lure in tourists; alternatively the quality of the products in Ollantaytambo might simply be lower than that of those in Cuzco because people come there for the ruins, not the restaurants, and they can, therefore, afford to skimp on quality for a cheaper price. No matter what the reason may be, I thought this distinction was interesting. Unfortunately, despite the low prices, the drinks in Ollantaytambo—from lemonade to pisco sours—may have been slightly more affordable but tasted significantly worse than the ones I had in Cuzco to the point where I couldn't finish my drink. For reference, I really hate wasting money, so if I don't finish something, that means that it really wasn't drinkable. Perhaps another potential reason for this difference is that there's less competition between businesses in Ollantaytambo simply because there are fewer businesses; however, a later encounter during this eventful night causes me to question this theory. Another difference I noticed at this restaurant was that the waitress spoke essentially no English, which I didn't mind at all because it really pushed the group's Spanish skills as we tried to come up with the correct word for "sausage" on pizza—chorizo, not salchicha. Nevertheless, this was definitely different from Cuzco where servers often begin by speaking English when they hear you're speaking it or switch to English in order to clarify something that they think you may not understand. It's a pretty nice crutch to fall back on at times, but I definitely learned a few things by not having that crutch. Despite the mediocre drinks, the food at Blue Magic was great—they also had a full vegetarian menu, which I always really appreciate, so I ordered sauteed vegetables with rice and potatoes. There was clearly a lot of work put into the presentation of the dish, which I thought was interesting given how disappointed I was by my drink at the time, and there were little designs drawn around the rim of the plate in a variety of sauces. The potatoes for this dish were fries, which was unexpected because every time I've gotten potatoes in Cuzco they've been thin chips. I don't know if this difference is culturally significant, but it was definitely interesting—and delicious. We left Blue Magic satisfied with our meal and ready to explore what else Ollantaytambo had to offer.

The group set out to find a place to sit and talk—this brought us to a dark cobblestone alley where we decided against going to our first destination of choice because it was filled only with Peruvian men yelling at each other loudly. This was interesting because the majority of other places—with a few exceptions—that we've visited are either overrun with tourists or at least have a few, and I didn't realize the sense of comfort that provided until that moment when we all decided to search for another place. On our way out of the alley, we witnessed perhaps the most interesting scuffle between street dogs: three dogs began barking at each other, and before we knew it, a pug literally rolled down the alley and a small black dog zoomed by me so fast that I had to jump out of the way because I really thought it would run me down. Slightly confused by what we'd just witnessed, we walked out of the alley and saw the same small black dog perched where the alley opened up to the street. Little did we know that little black dog would follow us around for the rest of the night—but more on that later. I am going somewhere with all of this talk about the dogs: for some reason, the dogs in Ollantaytambo seemed to be more open to human interaction than the ones in Cuzco, and I think it might be because, from the human-dog interactions I saw, people in Ollantaytambo treat dogs, even street dogs, a bit better than individuals in Cuzco. For instance, when the dog followed us into two different cafés later on in the night, the servers would coax him out with bread or cooing rather than kicking him like I've seen rather often in Cuzco. Of course, these observations were rather limited—plus, maybe the dog was just treated that way so as not to upset tourists and lose business—so I don't know if I can make a sweeping generalization about it, but this could be one reason that the dogs in Ollantaytambo were more friendly. Another is that Ollantaytambo is more of a tourist town, so maybe it's the frequent interaction with tourists that makes the dogs friendlier. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the company of the furry friend that followed us around for the rest of the night—though I don't think anybody in the group enjoyed how badly he smelled.

After our alley experience, we settled on heading to an English Pub—little did we know that it was broadcasting the series finale of Game of Thrones and was consequently the worst place to talk because we would get dirty looks every time we made a sound. We ordered and sat down anyway because we had already made the trek there—the little black dog from the alley sat under our table. The show began, and it was in Spanish—most everybody in the room looked shocked and confused which was interesting because ... this is Peru after all—a mainly Spanish-speaking country. This was the first time where the expectation that English be spoken in a non-English speaking country was so blatant, and though I understand the tourist desire to watch Game of Thrones in English, it also made me a bit uncomfortable. Within a few minutes, customer requests prompted one of the employees to switch the show to English—which was met with loud applause. This was our cue to leave our mediocre sweet potato fries—which in this case were chip-shaped, kind of mushy, bland, and definitely overpriced—and even worse drinks behind in order to search for another place where we could actually sit and talk.

The little black dog followed us to a street near our hostel where three very similar restaurants stood. One employee from each restaurant stood outside, advertising why we should choose their restaurant over the other two. We finally settled on the one in the middle that seemed to have the most people and headed upstairs. The space was larger than I expected and slightly chilly because of a door that opened up to a balcony area. In the middle of the table sat a little glass container with quinoa with a wooden block that contained the WiFi password—the whole quinoa thing has been a common trend; I know quinoa is considered a Peruvian staple, but I wonder why quinoa is emphasized so much more than the other staples. Selecting this restaurant ended up being a great choice, and we sat here talking and practicing our Spanish for a few hours. This server was also a bit more involved than many of the ones in Cuzco, probably because the place wasn't as busy, but I enjoyed having a personable rather than a disconnected interaction. We also interacted with a few of the other people that came to sit in the upstairs area over the course of the night—mostly in an attempt to get the dog out from beneath our respective tables. Nevertheless, I felt a sense of community there that night that I think is often hard to feel in a bigger city like Cuzco.

I headed back to the hotel that night feeling very reflective—I think this series of experiences made me appreciate Ollantaytambo more than I would have otherwise. There was just something about the combination of the quirkiness, feeling of community despite the touristy nature, and cultural insights I discovered there that left me feeling a bit sad when we had to leave the next afternoon.

Lunch at San Pedro Marketplace

I visited Cusco's San Pedro Market around 1:30 PM during a Wednesday to grab some lunch. It is a bustling marketplace located about 10 minutes away from the Plaza de Armas. Here, you can buy a wide variety of things from fresh produce, to souvenirs, to cuts of meat, and most importantly, a cheap and delicious meal.

The food stalls in San Pedro Market are divided by the type of food they serve. There is one section for chicken soup (caldo de gallina), one for ceviche, one for juice, etc. For my lunch, I wanted to try tarwi, which is a traditional Andean porridge made from a species of the lupin family, so I went to a section of the market that served heartier foods and meats.

In this section, there were at least three dozen food stalls. These all seemed to be run independently with their own owners and cooks. The smallest stalls were the size of a table, two or three meters wide. Typically, most customers sit on a bench and eat their meal off the stall's counter. However, some stalls had a second row of benches where customers had to make do eating their meals off their laps. There were also some larger stalls with tables.

Walking around the food stalls, one thing I definitely noticed were the various stalls clamoring for my business. You could not go one minute without having someone trying to convince you to eat at their stall.

I eventually settled on a stall that was serving tarwi with lomo saltado, stir-fried sirloin. This was in a larger stall with tables and As soon as I sat down, a lady working in the stall took my order, and then we exchanged money. I was first served some chicken noodle soup and about ten minutes later, I received my entree handed out on a plate straight from the kitchen across the stall. The service was extremely quick and informal.

After that, I decided I wanted to try chuño (traditional freeze-dried potato) soup and I received that quickly too after it was scooped from the kitchen. In total, my meal cost 8 soles or about $3. Although food in Cusco tends to run cheap compared to the US, it was still significantly less than going to a typical restaurant.

Among the other people eating with me were some older Peruvian women dressed in traditional Peruvian garbs, including shawls and hats. They looked like they could be one of the ladies who sold souvenirs in the market or off the side of one of Cusco's streets. All of the other six people eating with me seemed to be working-class Peruvians who were taking a lunch break before returning to work. There was not a lot of talking, as people seemed to be more focused on completing their meal.

The vast majority of people walking around the market seemed to be local Peruvians, but there were some tourists who stood out. The most distinctive feature of tourists was definitely their fancy cameras. They looked much more apprehensive of the marketplace than the Peruvians, and most of them did not seem to be interested in eating.

Looking around the market, I saw many other customers huddled together on benches side-by-side without much space between customers. The vast majority of customers seemed to be Peruvian, though there were a couple of other tourists besides myself eating too. Most customers were eating alone and they were more focused on eating their meal than socializing. There was constant traffic as people moved in and out as they began and completed their meals. Overall, to me the marketplace seemed mostly like a place for working Peruvians to eat as opposed to tourists.

Going to San Pedro Market is definitely an eye-opening experience and a must-see for anyone looking for authentic Peruvian culture. It is also great for anyone looking to eat in Cusco for cheap. Overall, I loved eating at San Pedro market despite the bustle. I wish there were more opportunities to eat in such an informal setting in the US.

Machu Picchu Excursion -- Tourism & Hiking

When we got off the train in Aguas Calientes, I was immediately drawn to the surrounding river and suspenseful mountains that gave me the impression that the town would be one of my favorites of the entire month. However, after exploring Aguas Calientes over the next 24 hours, I found the town to be more of a tourist trap for passing visitors of Machu Picchu. For such a small and remote town, I was shocked by the expensive prices of goods. Similar to Cusco, there were many stray dogs and there was a large, open market selling Peruvian souvenirs. Aguas Calientes was fine because we only stayed there for a night and it enabled our group to get an early departure to Machu Picchu, which was the most important part of our excursion.  

Our visit to Machu Picchu was breathtakingly beautiful. The day started off with a bus departure, which provided us with incredible views as we went up the mountain and reached higher altitude. When we got to the entrance of Machu Picchu, I was surprised by the number of tourists waiting in line. I have always read in the news that Machu Picchu has grown in popularity in the past few years, but I never knew the extent of this growth and I was shocked at how many people waited in line at 7AM on a Tuesday. Before the trip, Falconi explained to our class that tourism has greatly changed the visiting landscape of Machu Picchu. Before, there were less tourists and the site seemed more peaceful since it was quieter. Now, the local government has taken over control of tourism and there are certain rules in place that restrict certain things such as reversing down the mountain to already explored areas.

It was a special moment when we reached the picture-esque sites of Machu Picchu. Group morale was also extremely high due to the sunny weather. One thing that I found interesting was that most people take pictures of the mountain opposite from Machu Picchu, which is Huayna Picchu. In Quechua, Machu Picchu translates to “old mountain” and Huayna Picchu translates to “young peak.” Moreover, our class decided to take the ~1 mile side hike to Puerto del Sol. On this hike, the difference in altitude between Machu Picchu and Cusco became very apparent. I noticed that I was not running out of breath as easily and that I did not need to take breaks. We eventually reached the end of the hike and the views were incredible. I was able to sit on some rocks and observe the ruins at Huayna Picchu. From this spot, it felt more quiet and there were less tourists. Because of this, I was able to clear my mind and think about the historical significance of the site.

Eventually, we hiked back and checked out the main ruins of the village. These reminded me of the ruins that we saw in some of the towns outside of Cusco. My favorite part was running into the alpacas and seeing the sacred rock, which is in the formation of the mountain and its peaks. After five hours of hiking and exploring, we exited Machu Picchu and received a stamp in our passport. I was very surprised by how much we saw in the morning and I thought that Machu Picchu lived up to its hype.   

The Llama Museum

During our weekend trip to Pisaq, one of our stops was a museum dedicated to our favorite Andean animals, the llama and the alpaca. The museum focused on the raising of the animals as well as traditional methods of creating textiles from alpaca fur. Because the Incans and other pre-Colombian people in the Andes did not have cows or sheep like the Europeans did, alpacas and llamas were crucial to their culture for food, transportation, and clothing.

For those who don't know the difference, there are several important differences between llamas and alpacas. One is that llamas have curved ears, while alpacas have straight, short ears. Another is that llamas have longer faces than alpacas. Lastly, alpaca meat can be delicious, but llama meat is too tough to eat.

The first part of the museum were some exhibits of various breeds of alpacas and llamas. I was very surprised at how friendly they were and how they were so eager to eat plants out of our hands. Additionally, there were some slender, antelope-like vicunas among the animals exhibited. I was afraid that one of the animals was going to spit on me because I hadn't bought a change of clothes for the weekend trip, but luckily that never happened.

The second part of the museum was about the creation of textiles using llama fur from traditional methods. There was also a demonstration of how natural colors were dyed onto the fabric. The guide showed what materials would lead to what colors. What surprised me is that red colors came from crushing cochineal, a type of insect. The resulting dye would be mixed with other ingredients to change the shade of red produced. Another thing that surprised me was how muted the natural colors compared to the bright neon colors often associated with traditional Peruvian clothing. In reality, such colors would not be possible in the Incans time. Instead, the colors they would have worn would have been muted blues, reds, and yellows.

Visiting the museum was very informative on the effort required to spin a piece of fabric from alpaca fur by hand. It is a very labor-intensive process that can take several weeks to complete, which is very different than the cheap modern clothes we expect to be produced at hundreds at a time.

In the gift shop, I saw that a single scarf could be $100, which is way more expensive than the clothes I'm used to. That means that there was no way scarves marketed as “baby alpaca” fur in the Pisaq marketplace for 25 soles (about $8) could be the real deal. Thus, if you're getting an alpaca scarf in the area and you think it's too good to be true, the truth is probably you're just getting a synthetic, factory-produced scarf. Buyers beware!

This visit to the museum gave me hope that traditional Andean textile methods can be preserved despite the rise of modern manufacturing. Even though we can get clothes and blankets cheaper than ever, there is still something special about owning a piece of fabric created by hand. Furthermore, as textile making is an important part of Andean culture, it deserves to be kept alive for that reason alone.  

Architecture and Culture in Cuzco

            Built on the foundations laid by the Incas, Cuzco has a very unique architecture.  As opposed to the concrete and metal structures so common in most US cities, Cuzco is still composed of stones quarried centuries ago.  As part of its ancient construction, it is also built to a much smaller scale than most cities I have visited.  The streets and sidewalks are narrower, buildings are shorter, and shops are smaller.  In contrast, plazas with grand fountains seem to be much more prominent.

            This construction style makes sense, given the Incan origins.  Streets needed only be wide enough to walk, with a divot down the middle to drain sewage and rainwater.  The majority of the buildings were residential, for important officials to spend a few months of the year.  Thus, the city itself is large, interestingly built in the shape of a puma, yet individual shops are small.  Spanish influences are also evident in the construction of buildings such as cathedrals, made of rocks taken from former Incan buildings. 

            Given the blend of foundations, it is interesting to see how locals have adapted the city to modern life.  One notable example of this dilemma is street traffic.  Often stretches of roads are only wide enough to accommodate one vehicle at a time, causing people to back down streets or wait for oncoming traffic to pass.  Not only is this true for cars, but also for pedestrians on sidewalks, many of which are less than two feet wide.  In order to pass, someone nearly always has to step off and in to the road.  This has led to an interesting tendency to honk horns far more frequently than in the US, and great comfort with squeezing both cars and people in close proximity.  This contrasts with a strong preference for personal space that people in the US tend to hold.

            This same proximity can be seen in shops and restaurants as well.  Nearly all of the shops and restaurants here are of a much smaller size than those in the US.  Often there will only be five or six tables in a restaurant, and a group of our size may take over all of them.  The tendency towards smaller settings brings a much more personal feel to many of the places we go.  In shops, this makes it easier to start up conversations with the owners about their work, as well as completely unrelated topics.  In some restaurants, such as Granja Heidi y La Cantina, it makes it far easier to see the pride that owners take in their food.  Overall, locals appear to have embraced the smaller scale of architecture and become very comfortable with close, personal settings.  This has made it far easier to genuinely interact with people and get a sense of the local culture here in Cuzco.

Las caminatas de Pisaq, Ollantaytambo, y Machu Picchu

Throughout our past weekend excursions, we have been on plenty of fantastic hikes as a group. The first weekend we ventured to the city of Pisaq, followed by the ancient ruins of Ollantaytambo, and finished with one of the seventh wonders of the world---Machu Picchu. I enjoyed the variety of hikes and the different elements incorporated in each excursion. For this post, I will be discussing what elements I enjoyed and what aspects stood out the most to me.

Pisaq: When we went to Pisaq, it was Mother's Day and we were unsure if we would be able to find a ride up to the top of the ruins. Fortunately, we found a ride and were dropped off at the entrance of the site. We hiked up and explored several different houses and saw a mountain where grave robbers have been seen excavating valuable items; however, the view from the top of the last house was amazing! All of us took a picture sitting on the edge of a balcony constructed of rock. After we had made it to the top, it was time to come down. I was pretty nervous on the way down because I had heard the hike would take around two hours. With this being our first major hike, I was concerned I would not be properly adjusted to the altitude and lag behind everyone. The hike down consisted of gorgeous views of the Andes and the river near the city of Pisaq. One of the most interesting things I noticed was the variety of colors of all the buildings (since I was able to view them from above). Additionally, I learned that just because you hike downhill doesn't necessarily mean it will be easy. Many times I had to concentrate of my footing and strengthen my calves and thighs to maintain my balance. I was sore afterwards for about two days!

Ollantaytambo: This was a relatively short uphill hike, but from the bottom, it looked incredibly steep! Although I was nervous, I kept in mind that it was only supposed to take around 45 minutes and that I had accomplished a tough downhill hike the weekend prior. For this hike, I decided to put in headphones and listen to my workout playlist for motivation. I found this strategy to be incredibly helpful and I felt as though I was more capable of keeping up with the group's pace. The views from above were awesome too! I also enjoyed the additional trail we took when we got to the top because it was a little more risky and allowed us to curve around the ruins instead of just continuing to go straight up. The only issue was it was HOT and I was sweating during the entire hike!

Machu Picchu: One of the seventh wonders of the world! We drove up to the initial entry point so there was not too much hiking in the beginning. Everyone took photos and the sun was shining right over the ruins! After we finished taking pictures our entire class decided to hike to El templo del sol. The trail is an uphill, narrow, stone path with little to no barriers on the edge. It is around 0.8 miles and is surrounded by lush greenery. In the beginning of the hike I was with the group, but when I became tired, I struggled to keep up and ended up in the middle. Eventually, I was met by a few other classmates who were traveling at the same pace as me and wanted to take an equivalent amount of breaks. Even though I didn't have my music this time to keep me going, it was nice to have a smaller group whom I  felt comfortable with to lift me up when I was fatigued. The view at the top of the hike was insane and I just remember feeling so small among all of the mountains. Overall, I'm glad I did the hike because it was totally worth it!

Horse Girl Thoughts

This past weekend me and two other students chose to use our first free day in Cusco to go horseback riding a little bit outside of the city. The ride was approximately 3 hours, with a few stops to visit sights such as the temple of the moon and other scenic sights in the sacred valley. As someone who has been riding horses for most of their life, I was very excited to compare the differences between the horses and style of riding in Peru and in the United States.

From the very beginning I noticed that there were many physical differences, such as different tack than I was used to, the horses were generally much smaller than mine, and it seemed that basic safety equipment such as helmets were not always used. However, as we began the ride and chatted with our guide, it became clear that what was very similar to the US was how much this man cared about his horses.

Throughout the ride he told us about his ranch and how it was over 60 hectares, and how he owned over 30 horses, but only rode about 20 of them as the rest were babies or too old. As we rode we also saw other ranches where horses were tied to poles and already saddled, with no riders. Our guide told us how as tourism has increased over the past few years the number of ranches has also increased, but these new ranches solely care about profits and not about the animals, and this is why they are treated so badly. However, he told us that his ranch had been in his family for over 70 years and he had grown up riding and caring for these horses, and it was obvious that he cared more for the animals than just a source of income.

This experience with our guide has opened my eyes to both the positives and negatives of tourism, and the affect that tourism has on more than just the economy of Peru. I was glad that I was able to discuss this with our guide, in order to see a true Peruvian's perspective on the increase in tourism in his country, as well as being able to appreciate how he has maintained his family business, while still managing to adapt to the reality of the modern world.

Disability and Accessibility in Cusco: perspective from a fit girl

As I’ve walked the streets of Cusco the past several days, tripping over uneven cobblestones and climbing up mismatched stairs, I’ve found myself complaining about how hard it is to get from point A to point B in comparison with my life in the U.S. I knew that this was an “athletically based” trip, but I thought that as an athlete as and someone who works out regularly, I wouldn't have any problems. But in Cusco, my body has been struggling to keep up with Cusco’s terrain— both urban and rural.

Now, this got me thinking. If I— a considerably fit individual— can have so much trouble navigating the streets of Cusco, what about those people who aren’t as physically fit? How do people with wheelchairs, crutches, other walking assistance or disabilities navigate the streets of Cusco? I noticed that I haven't seen any people with these conditions. But of course, they must exist. Disabilities are not limited to Europe and North America. So what do people with disabilities in Cusco do, then? I don't know. 

After a few Google searches, I learned that Peru is trying to become more accessible to those with disabilities– but is only targeting tourists. Since 2019, Machu Picchu claims to be wheelchair accessible. Moreover, tour group companies are beginning to advertise tours that are specifically for travelers with disabilities. While these are important and necessary measures, they are not nearly enough. Peru focuses more on accessibility for tourists than for its own citizens. Of course, this sin't surprising considering much of Peru's economy depends on tourism. But it is important that the citizens are getting the attention they need, too.

Peru has a long way to go, but it is a leader in accessibility programs in South America. I can only hope that it will lead other South American countries into becoming more accessible while becoming more accessible in itself. 

Sacred Space

As I walk up to the Cathedral, I notice that a large tent-like structure sits in front of the main entrance. Stepping over bundles of wires and avoiding some important-looking people, I make my way to the front entrance for the 9 o'clock Saturday morning mass. A reserved woman standing by the door gives me a modest smile as I step through the doorway. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness inside. Several windows work to counteract the dimness, but they are so high up that they barely seem to make a dent. The air is damp and cold, and the structure of the inside of the church feels labyrinthine. Instead of an open nave, the inside of the church is divided into many small chapels and chambers. Almost immediately upon walking in, I am faced with a large wall bearing an extensive painting of Mary and Jesus, surrounded by ornate gold framing. From where I walk in, I cannot see the main altar. Unsure about where the mass will be held, I venture to my left, walking in what I hope to be the direction of the service.

A feeling of solemnity pervades the space, augmented by the absence of natural light, the stone floors and walls, and the severe gaze of various royals from medieval Spain staring down at me from the paintings on the walls. The individuals depicted in these paintings, characteristic of the era, are clad in black and bear melancholy expressions. The church has many side chapels, but most of them bar entry through large, black gates. A particularly ornate one features a Mary, dresses all in blue, surrounded by a background of brilliant gold. Kneelers and stands with candles stand in front of the shrine. After walking uncertainly through the church, I find a chapel that is relatively full of people. It is not, however, facing the main altar. The pews appear to be moveable, so for the purpose of this smaller-scale daily mass, they are facing a side chapel. It feels strange, however, to be facing the right of the church (instead of the front) for mass.

The chapel, enclosed by an altar rail, indicates the traditional nature of the church. Its opulence seems reminiscent of that which I saw in several churches in Rome several years ago. The deacon carries a communion plate with him in the opening procession. A crucified Christ hangs above the altar, surrounded by two figures on either side. Behind the crucifix, blue-white crystals emanate in an almost star-like pattern. The most interesting point, however, is the statue of Jesus. In contrast with the other medieval paintings hanging in the church, the Jesus on the cross has dark brown skin. After further research, I learned that this is a famous crucifix entitled "Señor de los Temblores," entitled thus due to its purported role in preventing further destruction after an earthquake in 1650. It is the patron saint of Cusco and the crucifix is processed through the town on Holy Monday.

Another interesting aspect of the Cathedral is the central chamber in the nave. Before the mass starts, I don't know what it's for. It looks relatively empty to me. When the service starts, however, I notice that the organist is positioned inside, creating the impression that he is in a large cage. Organist might be an overly generous term, however--he is playing an electric Korg keyboard on the organ setting. The music features an interesting blend of the arpeggiated organ accompaniment and the keyboardist's heavily amplified voice. While the text is the traditional Catholic liturgical text, the tune seems very different from anything I know. They remind me of the carefree singing in the film "Madeinusa." Instead of the traditional organist / cantor division, one musician does both, albeit in a way very different from what I am used to. For me, it is an unusual setup. I look over at the musician several times throughout the service, and I can't shake the feeling that I am in some sort of zoo for musicians.

The last feature that strikes me is the continual motion of people throughout the church as the service progresses. The pews facing the altar are divided into two sections, so there is a small aisle between the front and back sections. Various guards, janitors, and church visitors walk through it at random points throughout the service, making it slightly more difficult to focus on the service. Out of the corner of my eye, I see tourists walking around, admiring the art. Custodians carrying brooms march purposefully throughout the church, and I see a continual bustle of confessions going on in the far corner. Overall, there is much more activity happening outside of the service, further supporting my impression that this daily mass is but a small part of the Catholic culture here in Cusco.