After departing Nasca, I awoke as my overnight bus lumbered into Peru’s valley of the Volcanoes and Canyon country. The sun was beginning to rise and the terrain was showing more signs of life than the desert coast. The landscape was growing grander with deeper canyons, tall rolling hills, and volcanic rock formations rich in iron. The iron made the exposed surface rust red, but rocks that had recently split had an ashen gray core. We pulled into the Arequipa bus station as the city was waking up. Shop keepers were out sweeping or spraying down the sidewalks outside their shops, and people hustled about in coats and caps, as the higher altitude was continuing to bring the temperatures down.
Arequipa sits at the feet of several dormant volcanoes, the most prominent being El Misti with its classic volcanic cone topped with snow. Below these sleeping giants is the bustling colonial city that is known as the ‘white city’ for several reasons. The most common reason is the white volcanic stone from which most of the colonial center was constructed. That colonial center is still dominated by grand white buildings that make you feel like you could be in Spain. The second reason is from the native’s point of view, and is a reference to the light skin of colonial inhabitants that use to populate the central city while the darker native people lived on the outskirts. The last reason is the coca that is popular in the highlands of Peru, and ‘white’ references its more notable form: cocaine. However, you don’t hear much about Peru’s cocaine, even though the illegal production and trafficking of cocaine remains a problem. Instead, the nation focuses on the native traditions of chewing it, or drinking it as tea, and these products can be found at any corner market and most hotel breakfasts. But I digress.
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| Breezeway along the streets surrounding the central town square. |
Beyond the architecture, the Spaniards also brought religion, and Catholicism shaped Arequipa as well. The main cathedral is the only one in Peru that spans an entire side of the cities central plaza, and just a few blocks north of the plaza, the Monastery of Santa Catalina occupies over two city blocks, like a small village within the larger city. After a short visit in the impressive central plaza, I wandered up to the Monastery.
I had to pay to get in, just like the nuns did in the Monastery's early days. In colonial Peru, the second son or daughter of the upper class would enter religious service, and in order to enter the St. Catalina's, they had to pay a dowry of 2400 silver coins (equivalent to $150,000 today) to live a pious life of poverty. Also, from the founding of the Monastery in 1580 until 1970, the only people allowed in were the nuns who committed to that life of piety. However, in 1970, the majority of the village within the city was opened to the public for the first time, and today only a small section is still 'active' and inhabited by the nuns.
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| Arch of Silence before the first cloister in St Catalina's |
Public access is not the only thing that has changed, nor the most significant. In the early days the nuns were from the upper class and they entered their life of 'piety and poverty' with fine property, servants and 'social events.' They even hired musicians to entertain at their events and the monastery served as more of a ladies social club where you went NOT to be seen.
Eventually even the pope got word of 'Cantina Catalina' and the party ended 100 years before the doors opened to the public, when the pope sent in Sister Josefa Cadena to reform in 1870. Gone were the parties and the entrance dowries. The servants and slaves were also done away with, however, the servants were given the option to stay as nuns and equals to those they once served. Without the dowries, the nuns were forced to find new sources of revenue and the original chapel was turned into a bakery to produce breads and other goods to sell.
Finances eventually drove the decision to open the site to the public, as building codes forced the Monastery to renovate with electricity and plumbing in 1970. Without enough funds to pay for the renovations, they opened the majority to the public, and in 2012 I found myself walking under arch of Silence into the first courtyard, or Cloister, where novice nuns would spend 2-3 years in silence and study. I spent about 15 minutes before I graduated and move up to the Cloister of Oranges and beyond.
The Cloisters and streets are painted in rich and warm colors of indigo, iron rust red and white with murals on the walls and ceilings of the covered walks, surrounding the open courtyards. Off of the three main courtyards are pedestrian streets with the private residences of the nuns of the hay-day. The initial rooms for the novices were simple and sparse, but as they graduated up to the main streets and courtyards the residences became larger and more extravagant with kitchens, servant quarters and living areas. The grounds were peaceful and inviting, but also felt a bit like a ghost town done up to look as if the residents had just blown out the candles on their way out, having left the ovens prepped for cooking dinner later that evening.
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| Kitchen hearth inside one of the residences of St. Catalina's |
After relaxing on the quiet, empty streets of St Catalina's, I wandered back out onto the bustling streets of Arequipa and right into a protest parade marching through town. I have no idea what they were fighting for, but I joined them for a block and then broke away to cross the river and visit the quiet hillside 'suburb' of Yanahuara, where well to do live and enjoy spectacular views over the city. The streets of Yanahuara were quiet and well kept, but I noticed each home was like its own urban fortress fenced in with ‘industrial chic’ corrugated steel walls all capped with barb wire. Rather than a gated community, in this rich suburb had a 'every family for themselves' vibe.
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| Scenic View in Yanahuara with El Misti Rising over the arches in the background |
In contrast with the homes, I visited an airy, open public park with a popular vista of Arequipa and the surrounding volcanoes, framed by several arches made of the same white stone for which the city is famous. Tour buses were pulling in at a fairly regular interval, and the tourists would file out, take pictures, return to the bus, and move on. Small groups of children were wandering about with their teachers practicing English on anyone willing, and lovers were looking for friendly strangers to snap their photo with the scenic backdrop for their scrapbooks. I soaked in the beautiful view, weather and crowd, and then wondered down the road to the posh Sol De Mayo for a Peruvian lunch in their grass covered courtyard with live folk music and a small waterfall for ambiance.
After wondering the city for the day, I retired to get some sleep before my two day trip to Colca Canyon. When I boarded the bus the next morning, I discovered my two Canadian bus buddies from Nasca were taking the tour as well. We had shared three bus journeys in as many days, I was beginning to think they were stalking me, and I suspect they may have felt the same. When you walk around any major Peruvian city, you are hounded by tour touters, and the streets and shops just off the main square are filled with even more vendors; so it is hard to imagine we would end up on the same tours. I had taken whatever tour my hotel recommended, while they had done some serious pre-vacation planning, so I assume I got lucky with the selection.
Our tour was on more of an over-sized van than a bus, and we had a mix of Spanish and English speaking tourist, so our guide provided information in both languages. Before leaving the city we made a stop for restrooms, snacks and coca, and when we were back on the road our guide gave a quick beginners lesson on chewing coca. She explained the many health benefits of chewing coca, to include whiter, stronger teeth, calming upset stomach, and relieving the affects of altitude, which was what we aimed to do on our trip into the highlands. We opened our pouches of dry coca leaves and found a small 'stone,' which I immediately thought was evidence of shoddy packaging conditions. I was about to throw it out, when our guide explained this was actually the key to unlocking our coca. It turns out the 'stone' was an alkali catalyst, which is used to break down the leave as you chew it. As beginners, we were instructed to only break off a small piece of the stone, which was made of ash and limestone and looked like a chip of cement. Then according to tradition you take some leaves and give a blessing/thanks to the gods before gathering up a small wad of leaves to rap around the catalyst stone before tucking it into your cheek. Later that evening I awoke in a cold, dark, vacant van, parked in front of a small mountain inn, with a note on my chest to pick up my room key at the front desk, a wad of $20s in my pocket that I could not account for, and I felt 'used'... cocaine is a powerful drug.
I'm kidding, this was not cocaine, it was coca, and after an hour all I noticed some numbness in my mouth and throat. As we experienced coca for the first time, our bus climbed out of the city and higher onto the Alto Plano or High Plains that were reminiscent of the high plains of the Rockies. However, instead of seeing deer and Antelope, like you would in the Rockies, on the Andean high plains you see wild Vicuna (Vee-coon-ya), Llamas and Alpaca. Although they are famous for their fur, which is shorn like sheep, these animals are actually more closely related to the camel. Also, when you are traveling in Peru, Alpaca and Llama are common on the dinner table and taste a bit more like deer than sheep. I've never eaten camel, so I can't say how they compare on that front.
We made a few stops for tea and photo opportunities, before climbing over the highest pass and descending into the Colca Valley and the village of Chivay. The village was set on the inside bend in the river, and seemed to be dominated by hotels and restaurants to cater to the influx of tourism in the canyon. The main street was lined with brightly colored statues of dancers in various costumes of the local folk dances, and led to the central square.
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| One of many statues depicting traditional dances of the region, set along the streets of Chivay |
After a delicious buffet lunch, we headed out of town to visit a smaller village that was little more than the central square and church. I learned that all the present day villages throughout the Colca valley were actually built/established by Franciscan missions during the colonial period. Each has a similar layout with a central square and church, and the establishment of these Spanish style villages, led to the abandonment of the original tribal villages throughout the valley.
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| Colca Tribe woman and her wares, above Colca Valley and the village of Chivay |
We hiked out of the small town square, down to the river canyon where we got to see the remains of some Colcas for which the canyon is named. The Colca is a cliff side storage unit made of adobe brick inside large holes in the canyon wall, which looked a little like a giant abandoned wasp nest. Since the narrow sections of the canyon remain shaded and, like water, cool air sinks and flows down the canyon, the Colcas act as natural refrigerators where the natives would store supplies.
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| Colcas along the cliffs above the river. The cool air and shade made these natural fridges. |
We also learned that the canyon was home to two different tribes, which distinguished themselves by reshaping the skulls of their children. One tribe flattened their heads by putting a board on top of the young forming skull, while the other tribe narrowed the skull by binding it between two boards. When the Spaniards arrived, they banned the practice, so now the two tribes wear different style hats, one plain white, and the other covered in colorful embroidery. Unique tribal head wear is still common throughout Peru, and around Lake Titicaca I saw many different styles of hats among the many tribes that have shared the shores of the massive lake.
We returned to Chivay for the night and relaxed at a natural hot spring, before heading to dinner. I visited several hot springs during my stay in Peru and always find it interesting how different cultures develop and practice their bath culture. For instance in Turkey they are known for their bath houses, which were created because of limited access to bathes for the general public, a cultural imperative to wash before going to the mosque, and then further expanded as a source of revenue for the Sultan and city. Inside you get roughly scrubbed down and washed by a bath attendant, and then relax in large hot rooms made of wall to wall marble under tall doomed ceilings with skylights cut in the form of stars and cresant moons.
In Japan, they have a culture of nature worship, shaped by the Shinto religion, which I think ties into their bath culture, which are built around natural springs, and has a formal ritual or rules for the experience. At the bath house I visited in Japan, they had indoor and outdoor baths. The outdoor section had both large communal baths and small individual baths all fed by natural springs, which were surrounded by a small peaceful Japanese garden.
Like Japan, Peru also has a culture of nature worship and the hot springs I visited there were mostly open outdoor sites that seemed to keep the experience as close to nature as possible. Each site had 'descending' baths with the hottest pools closest to the source and cooler pools descending away from the springs and closer to the river where they drained off. At the second bath I visited, the three pools were built at the base of a cliff face, and had access to a riverside 'beach,' where you could to take a cold dip if you were so inclined.
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| Hot Springs in Chivay |
After our relaxing soak, we went to a local pizzeria with local folk dancers for entertainment. The place had a brick oven for the pizzas, which filled the restaurant with smoke, which had to make the lively renditions of local dances in the thin mountain air a challenge. Despite the challenging conditions, our dancing duo danced through five or six different costumes and associated dances before the entertaining dinner show concluded.
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| Traditional dancers posing in front of the band during a dinner dance show. |
The next day, we headed deeper into the canyon, which is actually twice as deep as the Grand Canyon. Our destination was a popular condor viewing location, and the deepest section of the canyon we saw on our trip. So, in the second deepest canyon in the world, we were also viewing the second largest bird in the world. The Andean Condor is the largest bird in the western hemisphere, with a wingspan that can exceed 10 feet. It is a buzzard, so unlike the bald eagle that has a head of white feathers; the condor is truly a bald bird with only a ring of white feathers around its neck. The massive birds soar on the early morning updrafts in the canyon and when we arrived there were 10 to 20 soaring in front of the viewing platforms, which were packed with tourist that had poured out of tour buses, vans and cars the lined the road, and packed the small parking lot. The viewing area looked like it could double as a desert climate botanical garden with a rich and colorful collection of wild flowers and other desert plants crowding the small plain and pouring over the 'edge' of the canyon. However, we were not actually on the edge of the canyon, but closer to half way between the highest peaks that rose, snow capped above us, and the river that looked like a small stream in the shadows below.
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| Condor flying over the Canyon as tourist snap away with their camera's. |
The condors seemed to have arrived and departed almost on cue for the bus loads of tourists, and after an hour of frantic filming and pictures the birds moved on, as the crowds of tourist returned to their coaches. The departure of the massive condors and thinning of the tourist crowds seemed to amplify the vastness of the canyon. Although I found the distinct canyon rim of the Grand Canyon and the expanse of its mile wide gorge, truly does make it more grand; the size of the Colca Canyon was hard fathom. At the Grand Canyon, I wished I could sprout wings and fly like the condors, to explore the canyon walls, sail out to the peaks and plateaus within the canyon, and gain a greater appreciation of its grandeur. At the Colca canyon, with the towering mountains looming above me, and the depths extending below, the idea of flying felt exhausting. I would have enjoyed sitting a little longer and soaking in the scene, however, the exhausting thought of flying made me happy to return to the bus for the long return trip to Arequipa.
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| Looking up the canyon. It did not feel as grand as the Grand Canyon but it is twice as deep. |
