The last couple of days have been absolutely amazing and ones I shall remember for the rest of my life. I woke up yesterday with another altitude headache, if you’ve never experienced it before it feels like there’s a lot of pressure either side of your brain. I’ve also experienced nausea, fatigue and loss of appetite, as well as feeling out of breath after walking up about five steps!
As usual, I was late to breakfast and only had time to eat a quick egg before we left the hotel at 8am and took cycle rickshaws in the cold, pouring rain to the harbour. There a boat was waiting to take us to our first island, Isla Taquile, one of Lake Titicaca’s most industrious islands where the walled paths are crowned with rustic arches and dotted with Inca and pre-Inca ruins.
The boat ride was two hours and 45 minutes across the lake, and after about an hour in I started to feel very sick from the huge waves we were passing over, as well as my headache developing into a throbbing earache. I don’t even get sea-sick usually but the boat was small and the waves choppy, and I felt thankful that I’d only eaten an egg for breakfast.
On the way the boat guide, Percy, told us about the origins of the name ‘Titicaca’. He told us that ‘Titi’ means Puma and ‘caca’ means grey in Quechua, one of the native languages, and there are pumas that eat the alpacas and lambs on the hills. In the native language of Aymara however, ‘caca’ means rock, and apparently when air travel was first invented Lake Titicaca was found to look like a puma in the lake’s rocky outline from high above, which raised the question about how our ancestors ever knew that before they could fly. I’ve looked at the lake on the map and I can’t see it myself, I might need someone to point it out to me!
By the time we reached the island the sun had come out and it was a beautifully bright day. I was hoping for a minute or two to compose myself and to stop feeling sick, but no sooner had we stepped onto land then Percy pointed up a very steep path – and announced that we were now going to walk for 45 minutes up it to get to near the top of the island, from 3,800m to 4,000m. Suddenly I wasn’t happy that I’d only eaten an egg for breakfast, and slowly and sadly begun the walk up the path.
By the time we’d got to the top a table had been laid out for us overlooking the amazing views of Lake Titicaca. I had trout for lunch and felt revitalised after a rest. The sun was shining high in the sky emphasizing the beautiful bright colours of the flowers, plants and sea – everything looked so vibrant and fresh and I made sure I took lots of photos!
After lunch we listened to the story of the people of the island and its culture: the island has its own set of rules and government and the people choose a mayor by a simple election, discussion and showing of hands. The rules on the island are simple and follow the Inca creed of Ama suwa, Ama quella, Ama llullav (do not steal, do not be idle, do not lie), although I was told the last one isn’t really being kept to! There is also no police force on the island; a reflection of their belief in honesty.
The typical age to get married is 16 for girls and 18 for boys, and in the courting ritual if a boy is single, he will wear a hat of red and white that he has knitted himself – and it must be of the absolute very best quality (on the island knitting is strictly a man’s job – women do the spinning). He will also keep a small mirror in his belt. The single girls will also keep a mirror in their pocket and wear a black shawl with four big multicoloured pompoms on the end, each with a rock in the middle to make them heavy.
If a boy sees a girl he likes he can reflect the sunlight in his mirror at her to get her attention, and if she likes him she may do the same. If she doesn’t however she may dip her hat or even hit him away with her pompoms! Sometimes the boy might even throw small stones at the girl to get her attention. Then, if she likes him, she will take his hat from him and take it home to inspect the quality! She does this by filling it up with water – if no water leaks through she will know that the hat is of the finest quality and the boy is a good catch, however if the hat leaks then she will know that the boy is lazy. The guide told us that some boys have begun cheating now and have been rubbing animal fat inside the hat to stop the leaks!
The couple may court for a week to a month and then get married before the girl leaves her family and moves in with the boy’s family. Divorce is unheard of so before getting married the couple visit a shaman who will tell them if he believes they are well suited. If he doesn’t then the parents will separate the two and it has been known for couples to elope to the mainland in order to still be together, never able to return.
Once married, the wife cuts off her long hair and gives it to her husband as a gift. He then wears it as part of a red belt that she makes him, with her hair woven into it. He also knits himself a new hat – this time a more complicated red one that only married men are allowed to wear. If knitting for four hours a day this hat would take two months to make, in comparison with one month for the single man’s hat.
Together the man and wife would choose one business to work in on the island and be given some land to build a house by their parents. Generally, the smallest child remains living with the parents on the island and looks after them into their old age; their reward is that they inherit the house upon the parents’ death. The talk was fascinating and told to us in a humorous way; all in all, the people’s unique culture, style of dress and lifestyle certainly made for a memorable visit!
After lunch we descended down 545 steps to the boat, a considerably easier journey going down than coming up! Some 350 Quecha-speaking families live on the island and with no cars, donkeys or llamas they have to carry supplies up these steps from the jetty to the hilltop village on their backs!
We set off for the second island, Amantani on the Lluquina Peninsula, where we would be staying the night and enjoyed some shots of Pisco on the boat in the warm afternoon sun.
When we arrived at the island there was a long line of residents waiting to shake hands with us and greet us coming off the boat. They then led us in procession further inland with a band at the back playing the flute and drums!
We were introduced to our family for the night, mine was a very sweet lady called Mama Aurora and she had one boy still at home, Edgar. Mama Aurora only spoke some Spanish and the native Quechua like the other people on the island, but we still managed to communicate OK with some Spanish and smiles.
Mama Aurora went to prepare our room whilst some of us played a game of football against the locals as the sun set before Edgar fetched us to take us to the house, which was a challenging 15 minute walk up muddy paths, past the pig pen, and around the fields. The community we were staying in has only recently begun to accept visitors and so is mostly unaffected by tourism, so we were able to have a truly authentic experience staying with our family.
Football game against the locals
I was sharing a big room in a raised hut with the other two girls in our group and there were three beds neatly made up with thick, warm blankets. Once we’d put our cases down and chosen our beds we followed Edgar to a small outhouse where Mama Aurora was making dinner. From the outside the buildings on the island all look fairly modern, but stepping into the kitchen was like stepping back in time! Thick smoke burnt my eyes as I entered and the room was very sparsely decorated with some wood in the corner, a stool and the cooking area the other side; a fire burning away underneath several pots and pans. As the light faded the main light wasn’t working and we watched Mama Aurora instructing Edgar to tie some wire around a lantern and hang it up over a beam. He then used a rock from outside to hammer a nail into the wall to hold up the trailing wire, and then started to tune in a very old radio he had on the windowsill which babbled out Spanish voices in the background.
None of us could believe how polite and well behaved Edgar was, especially for a 15 year-old boy – most of the 15 year olds we knew were naughty and cheeky towards their elders, even remembering back to what we ourselves were like when we were 15! The families clearly loved and care for each other a great deal in this peaceful community and some of the others in our group also later mentioned how lovely and caring their families were. Mama Aurora also told us how her husband worked during the week in Puno (a two hour and 45-minute boat ride) and only came home at the weekends. She also had two daughters of 28 and 30, but they now lived elsewhere.
Mama Aurora cooking dinner
Me with Edgar
Just before eating, a little bowl of water was brought in with a bar of soap and we were asked to wash our hands in it. Dinner was a noodle and potato soup to start, and a big bowl of pasta and vegetables for the main, finished with a cup of peppermint tea. Mama Aurora generously gave me far too much and I couldn’t finish it, but we’d already been told it was OK to leave any we couldn’t finish. Once she’d served us Mama Aurora sat by the stove and ate her dinner, and Edgar sat on the stool in the corner of the kitchen by the radio eating his.
After dinner it was now completely dark outside apart from the odd little light in the distance and it really felt like we were in a different world in a different time, sitting in this tiny old little kitchen, with not even a door or any running water!
There was no time to relax though. Edgar’s nephew Carlos, this cute little seven year-old, came over and introduced himself to us before the two of them along with Mama Aurora walked back with us to our bedroom so we could put on the traditional clothes for the party that night. Mine consisted of four skirts, a black top, white shawl (I think for single women?) and a pom pom bracelet, along with a thick knitted belt and black hat. It was quite heavy but great because if you put on a few pounds, no one would notice! We took some photos (the two young boys loved having theirs taken) and then all walked in procession down to the old school hall where the party was being held.
Mama Aurora helping me to get ready for dinner
Ready at last!
When we got to the hall everyone was in the same costume, our group thought it quite amusing seeing each other dressed up! The locals performed a lively dance for us – girls pairing with boys, and the band in the corner banging on the drums and various other instruments. We were then ushered to get up and copy them, doing the dance ourselves! There were many dances in all including one the children put on, and it was so much fun twirling around with various children pulling us up onto the dance floor to dance with them.
In the school house
One of the many dances
At the end of the night Mama Aurora led us home up the mud paths, past the pig pen and around the dark fields along with Edgar and Carlos, and then helped us out of our outfits, turned down our beds and showed us where our bed pans were (I had no plans to use mine!). There was no running water in the toilet, which was a little outhouse a couple of buildings away from ours, so we just wiped our faces down and got into bed.
I slept pretty soundly and woke around 6.30am to the sound of heavy rain beating down on the roof. I got up and ran in my pajamas through the rain to the toilet but the water was still not working so I couldn’t shower. We dressed and freshened up as best as we could and Mama Aurora brought in a breakfast of boiled eggs, bread and peppermint tea to us before leading us down around the fields to where the boat was waiting. We each hugged her and thanked her for her kind hospitality. Edgar wasn’t around, I think he had gone to college which was about an hour’s walk to the other side of the island.
I will always remember how little the people on the island had in terms of material possessions and wealth, and yet how happy, loving and caring they were towards each other and towards us. Staring at the fire the night before as my dinner was being cooked, I remember glancing over any current problems I had and realising that at that moment, none of them seemed very big or worth worrying about at all.
Then we got back on the boat and set sail for Islas Uros.
Uros
Uros was such a surreal experience and one I will never forget. The Uros people developed their unique floating islands centuries ago to escape hostile cultures on the mainland and today about 300 families live on the islands, although numbers are slowly declining. Whereas on Isla Taquile life expectancy is 70-75, here it is only 60-65 due to illnesses such as rheumatism and arthritis from living on the reeds.
As soon as our boat had pulled up we were welcomed aboard one of the islands. As it had been raining the reeds felt soft and wet under foot and there was a strong, quite unpleasant smell from time to time which I think must have been the wet reeds rotting. Everywhere I looked there were reeds: on the floor, as pens to hold flamingos, borders for little gardens growing, handicrafts, houses and roofs! Even the boats were all made of the reeds and if constructed well were said to last up to 6 months. We sat down on a log made of the reeds and listened to a talk about how the islands were built and how they are maintained.
The islands are made up of layers and layers of reeds (called totorua, a reed-like papyrus) and as the layers closest to the water start to rot they are replaced with new reeds on top. Being floating islands, if families fall out with each other they can just cut themselves loose and sail off to another place to make home, which I found very amusing! Most islanders earn a living from fishing and tourism and we were shown some small fish that had just been caught for eating later. The sizes of the fish are decreasing due to being eaten by other fish; in Lake Titicaca there are mostly trout, catfish (not eaten as they are considered sacred), kingfish and also huge frogs which are said to live about 20 metres below the surface.
After the talk a lady asked if I wanted to come and see her house. I was quite surprised as she spoke English to me, on Uros the people now speak Aymara due to inter-marriage with Aymara-speakers and their own language dying out, but as I was to soon find out a few of them could actually speak English too.
We walked across the small island and I was greeted with the sight of a single-room reed house, with two layers of reed on the roof to keep the rain out. Inside the house the lady’s daughter sat on a large mattress on the floor watching a small black and white TV. The people now have solar panels which supply their electricity, before when they lit fires there were a few accidents with the reeds catching fire. The lady explained that the whole family of four slept on the mattress together, for warmth. Around the room were few possessions, a couple of dolls and some tapestries but not much else. I also noticed an inch-wide gap in the roof that was exposed down the centre to the elements, and must let the rain in.
Back outside the house some of the ladies were sitting cross-legged on the reeds showing us their handicrafts. I bought a beautiful tapestry telling the story of Uros and a colourful hat, which I was later told was a leader’s hat (worn by the leader of the island!). I was quite happy about this….
One of the ladies showing us her wares
Wearing my Uros leader’s hat
We then went for a cruise along the river in between the floating islands in one of the reed boats, which looked like a Viking boat! Here the lake was very peaceful with barely a ripple on the surface – unlike our previous experience of it out further out into the lake!
Ladies waving from the bank as we set off on the boat ride
It was a lovely day and we took our tour boat back to Puno for the last time. I was elected to give the speech thanking our boat guide Percy for looking after us and we put together a small envelope with some tips in for him and the boat driver.
I was delighted that my altitude headache had finally gone and after showering and changing into fresh clothes I took a taxi with a couple of members of my group to a 5* hotel with 360 degree panoramic views of Puno bay – and the floating islands in the distance, where I had my first (of a few) Pisco sour cocktails and watched the sun set over the mountain.
Definitely memories that will stay with me forever.
A couple of souvenirs