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Lake Titicaca: The highest navigable lake in the world

10/11/2015

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One piece of advice I plan on sharing with my kids is when traveling always look up reviews of bus companies if possible. We did not follow this advice and ended up smashed in a minivan cuddling with 13 Bolivians also headed for Lake Titicaca. We had been told it was only a few hours. No it wasn’t a few hours. What people neglect to tell you is that the road between La Paz and Lake Titicaca isn’t paved. At the time of this writing a section of the road is under construction, but who knows when it will be completed. The bar dividing the front seat and the passengers came unbolted and slammed into my knees, the driver decided to pass traffic on the left hand side of the road almost crashing into oncoming traffic, and Nico’s seat was at a permanent 15 degree incline. At one point we had to get out of the van and get into a small boat to cross to the island that Copacabana is on. Our van creaked its way onto a not so seaworthy ferry and lurched across the water. It made it, but the whole process is definitely absurd.

Lake Titicaca is at 3,841 m, making it the highest navigable lake in the world. The main town on the lake is Copacabana (about 7 km from the Peruvian border). With its population of 6,000 it is a small and relaxed place. It has a nicely kept main square and is home to the Basilica of Our Lady of Copacabana (patron saint of Bolivia). The cathedral is a large white stucco structure with beautifully tiled domes. Other than visiting the cathedral/main square the main activities in town are climbing up two hills to take in the stunning vistas from the viewpoints. One viewpoint even was the site where Incan astrologers came to analyze the stars.

Before 1534, the town and lake were under Incan rule. The lake and its islands are/were considered sacred. On the Isla del Sol there are still remains of a Pre-Incan temple, which the Incans used for their own sacred ceremonies. We did the two hour boat ride to the lake and were amazed by how slow we went. Nico’s running watch measured our speed to be around 12 km an hour. We asked if there was a speed limit for environmental reasons or if the boats just suck. The boats just suck. The captain of the boat is originally from la Isla del Sol and has only been speaking Spanish for the past 3 years to make money from tourism. Some people on the island still only speak their indigenous language. He said that before 2005 there were very few tourists and that the sight of white foreigners scared him a bit. He told us that people on the island never get sick. They only experience cold and hunger. The spirits of the lake keep them strong and healthy.

Once on the island we hiked up to see the Pre-Incan temple. There was a large rock we were informed to lean against in order to change our energy (that is literally the only instruction we were given). I was still sick, so I opted out of the three hour hike along the spine of the island. On the way Nico met an American named Roger. He is taking a semester off from Middlebury College to travel around South America. We ended up spending the evening with him and it was so refreshing being with one of my people. I love meeting people from other countries, but sometimes it is nice to talk about college basketball, American politics, and why a lot of us just don’t like Texas. We laughed until late evening at our favorite restaurant in town the Thai Palace (Indian+Thai+Japanese food= an odd, but delicious mix). A Swiss woman and a German woman we met while watching the sunset over the lake ended up joining us as well.

I was given a lot of conflicting advice on whether or not to stay the night on la Isla del Sol. In my opinion, it is worth a one night stay. Give yourself some time to explore the island without the time pressure of catching the boat back to Copacabana.

Leaving the town proved to be just as interesting as reaching it. The taxi drivers decided to go on strike and to barricade the roads thus making the already painful trip even more uncomfortable. We made it back to La Paz though tired and ready to leave Bolivia.

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Potosi & Sucre

10/9/2015

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Some people say the best way to get to know someone is by traveling with them. I disagree. The best way to get to know someone is through a shared experience of poo sample collection. That’s right! I said poo collection. I have been blessed with some form of unenjoyable intestinal issues. Due to my feeling like I needed to faint constantly and always needing to vomit we decided to skip Potosi and to head straight for lower elevation earlier than planned. What did we miss in Potosi? Well, Potosi is famous for the Cerro Rico. It is the mountain that provided the Spanish with the majority of the silver they took from South America. The mountain has a sad history of slave labor, poor conditions, and unfortunately a huge number of deaths. Now tourists can walk/crawl through the mines with the current miners, learn of the sad history of the mountain, and see the horrible conditions that still remain for the workers. It is suggested that tourists tip the miners with either coca leaves, cigarettes, or TNT (seriously). I would have loved to seen this and to have asked the miners a ton of questions, but alas sometimes our bodies limit us and I could not physically go. I had hoped Nico could go without me, but I was too sick to make it to the hospital alone and he needed to escort me. 

We got to the hospital and paid roughly two USD to see a doctor. While we waited to go into the office, I looked around at the people waiting and the conditions of the building itself. The ceiling was crumbling and the peeling sign for radiology was only a simple printed picture of a deformed chest cavity. The scene made me think about something I learned when I first left the US as a kid, the world isn’t a fair place. My parents always did a great job of being fair with my brothers and me. I always knew that if I accidently broke one of my friend’s toys, that my parents would make sure to replace it. If something was unjust and within my parents’ power to fix, they would. The reality of the world is not as balanced as the safe bubble I grew up in. This hospital was a perfect example of that. As a toddler I never saw the inside of a building in such poor condition and most likely my children will never either. I will probably never be a millionaire, but with a high degree of confidence I can say that my children will have a good education and strong medical care. This is not because they will be innately more worthy of such things, but simply because they lucked out to be born into a comfortable situation. Moments like this make me thankful and at the same time wish that there was more educational equality throughout our world.

Anyway, the doctor felt my blood pressure was way too low and that my heart was working too hard to pump blood throughout my body. She recommended that we head for lower ground and prescribed pills for my vomiting. While at the pharmacy I proceeded to ask Nico the same three questions several times and it was then that we realized my brain wasn’t getting enough blood because I wasn’t able to remember things he just said. To say the least the whole experience was scary and one I would not like to repeat. To make things more difficult, the following day, which was the day we had planned to leave for Sucre, was an election day and thus there was not going to be any transit. So we ate the money for the hotel in Potosi and jumped on a bus which of course took several hours longer than it was supposed to.

Once in Sucre it became obvious that our planned two days weren’t going to be long enough for me to recover, so we ended up staying for a week. During that week we were only able to do one day of tourism and the rest of the time was divided between our hostel The Celtic Cross, a vegetarian restaurant The Condor, and the hospital. We had to go to the hospital every morning to turn in stool samples. Nico even offered to deliver the samples on his daily runs. That was a thoughtful offer, but I didn’t really want him running through the streets with my fecal matter in hand and thus I declined.

Sucre is the constitutional capital of Bolivia while La Paz is the actual seat of the government. During the time of the Spanish, Sucre was the wealthy resort town which provided the Spanish a retreat from the grunge and altitude of Potosi. Thus, lots of money was dumped into the aesthetic appeal of the city and is why today Sucre’s white washed old town is a shining jewel amongst the brick cities of Bolivia. The main plaza is extensive and filled with greenery and towering palm trees. It was so refreshing to be in such a nice city and we were not surprised to see lots of foreigners in filling the city’s cafes. If you plan on doing an internship or studying Spanish in Bolivia, I recommend you choose Sucre as your home base.

During a tour of the Casa de la Libertad, the tour guide explained how many countries in South America (before becoming countries) were once united against the Spanish. This is why they share many of the same liberators such as Simón Bolívar, San Martín,
Antonio José de Sucre, Manuel Belgrano, etc. She also said that many people believe that Sucre is where the first call for the independence of the South American colonies from the Spanish was made in 1809. Other than visiting the Casa de la Libertad, we checked out the lookout over the city, ate at the central market, and visited the Parque Cretácico to see one of the world’s largest collections of dinosaur footprints (over 5,000 prints).

If you want to relax in Bolivia, Sucre is going to be your best bet.


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Uruguay: Colonia de Sacramento

9/30/2015

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The history of Colonia de Sacramento can basically be summarized by saying it was founded in 1680 by Portugal and then it was conquered by Spain and then it went back to Portugal… Spain… Portugal… Spain. It traded hands many times. Its location on the banks of the River de la Plate across from Buenos Aires was strategic for trade. It is now a UNESCO World Heritage site and popular with tourists for its cobble stoned streets and colonial buildings.

It isn’t a big place and the best word to describe it is tranquil. All we did was walk around and eat. It is a nice one or two day trip from Buenos Aires. For me personally what made it so much fun were the people who shared it with me.  Sebastian, Nati, Matias, Nico and I had a great time. I hope the rest are able to join us on the road at some point in the future.

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The Uyuni Salt Flats

9/30/2015

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In our train car there were 6 Argentinians and myself. All the locals were in substantially less comfortable cars. It was a very strange train experience. Considering how late we were getting started and the quality of things thus far in Bolivia, I foresaw a horrible train ride. Low and behold the seats reclined just enough for comfort and there was a large stack of dust covered blankets in case we got cold. I wouldn’t go as far as saying it was a really nice train. It was more the fact that my expectations were so incredibly low that I was pleasantly surprised. At one point an employee walked by and handed us ticket stubs to enjoy a snack in the dining car. WHAT?! A dining car? Seriously? So we precariously stepped from one car to the next (not up to safety regulations might I add) and found ourselves in a dining car straight from the 70’s. We were served sugary juice, coffee/tea, and crackers with jam. There was a dinner menu with dishes priced around 5 USD. I couldn’t stop laughing to myself. Here we had seriously stressed about what we were going to eat. Immediately after snack time we ordered a quinoa salad for me and a basal steak for Nico. Both were surprisingly good. Back in our car we did our best to not suck in dust as we huddled under one of the train blankets.

We arrived in Uyuni only four hours late at 5:00 am. It was bitter cold and I kept thinking how disastrous it would be if our hostel didn’t open the door for us. Our only option would have been to pay 2 Bolivianos to sit in a toilet stall at the train station. Fortunately, our knocks were quickly answered and we were ushered into the Oro Blanco Hostel. The people were friendly, the breakfast was good, but pretty much everything else missed the mark. They turned off the heating and Wi-Fi until 7:30 am… enough said. After two hours of sleep we were up and getting ready for our tour of the Uyuni Salt Flats. We signed up for a three day tour with the tour company Andes Salt Expeditions. In our jeep there were two Chileans, Gerardo and Caro, two Germans, Merlin and Andi, our driver, Bernando, and us. We really lucked out with our tour mates. They were all very fun and entertaining people.


The Uyuni Salt Flats are the largest salt flats in the world covering more than 10,500 square km. They contain a huge percentage of the world’s lithium reserves (important for electronic batteries) as well as borax, potassium, and magnesium. With their proximity to the Andes the flats’ average altitude is around 3,600 meters. What I found interesting was that the flats are really flat with only about a meter in surface difference. They are made up of 11 layers each of varying thickness from 2 to 10 meters. You can imagine how much salt there is! Roughly 25,000 tons of salt are mined each year.
We left Uyuni and made a quick stop at the train cemetery. There were two rows of rusting trains left behind from the 1800’s. One row used to connect Uyuni to Chile and the other to Argentina. I thought it was interesting how many of the train parts had the Carnegie logo. Next up were the salt flats. We stopped to check out salt mounds ready for transport, spent an hour taking an absurd amount of perspective photos, and had lunch in a hotel built entirely of salt. Outside of the hotel there was a monument in honor of the Dakar Rally of course made of salt. From 1978 to 2007 the Paris-Dakar off road endurance rally was raced from Paris, France to Dakar, Senegal. In 2008 the race was cancelled due to unrest in northern Africa. Since 2009, the race has been done in Argentina/Bolivia/Chile. The race goes through the salt flats and has brought a good amount of attention to the region.

In the middle of the salt flats there are several landmass “islands”. We stopped at Inca Huasi or Fish Island to check out the large cacti and to take in the views of seemingly never ending salt flats. Inca Huasi was a key resting place for the Incas as they traversed the flats. After the island we drove for some until we stopped to watch the sunset. As we waited for the sun to set we played salt baseball, competed to see who could throw salt farther, and unfortunately encouraged Bernando to play his horrible music even louder. It was an awesome sunset that left the sky pink, yellow, and purple. The night was spent in freezing temperatures in an interestingly constructed salt hotel. 


We woke up early and split a breakfast for two people between the six of us. It is impressive how cheap tour companies can be. Eggs aren’t that expensive people! We proceeded to pass through the Chuguana desert. As we masticated coca leaves, we passed several extinct volcanoes and the semi active Ollague. It was while taking photos of Ollague that my struggle with altitude sickness peaked. I was babbling (not my normal chatter, but actual incoherent words) a bit and losing my footing. Nico instantly grabbed my shoulders and asked if I was going to pass out. I instantly slumped down into a seated position and was out for a moment. Gerardo held up my feet and Nico held my head. It really scared me because I couldn’t control my breathing, it was very erratic and my heart was pumping a mile a minute.  We sat for a while and I did my best to breathe deeply. Nico got into a calm confrontation with our guide because the tour company had advertised that it provided oxygen service if necessary. Of course being in Bolivia, there was no oxygen. The guide actually laughed at Nico because in his mind the idea of tour companies carrying oxygen with them was ridiculous. Nico stopped several other jeeps to ask for oxygen and came up with nothing. Even the park rangers at the head office claimed their oxygen tanks were out for refiling. Right… So, I was forced to remain in the jeep for the rest of the day. Nico deserves credit because he dealt with the situation well and did a great job helping me.

One of the coolest parts about the Chuguana desert is the diversity of bizarre species that live there. The most prevalent mammals were the vicuña, the llama, and the guanaco. We saw large herds of vicuña milling about feeding. We passed several high altitude lagoons that are unique because of the three species of flamingos that live in them. Against instructions I got out of the jeep for a few minutes to take pictures along the lagoon’s edge. I swear I heard a flamingo fart and I was quite tickled. Not far from the lagoon we stopped to have lunch beneath a large rock outcropping. These rocks also provided us some wildlife entertainment by means of a strange rabbit like species called, viscacha. They were very curious and very interested in our food. After eating we made an odd stop at the Chilean border. There didn’t seem to be any reason to the stop other than for the driver to pee. There was a large group of locals sitting at plastic tables consuming some delicious looking pasta presumably waiting to cross. To our chagrin the Germans bought the last of the pasta and gleefully ate it in our faces.


We continued our visit stopping in the desert of Siloli to see the “tree of rock”. Not worth the stop in my opinion, but the massive rock formations did provide enough cover for urination to take place. For the record males and their longer urethras have a huge advantage on a trip like this. The last stop of the day was on the shores of the oddly red colored Laguna Colorada. In the middle of the lagoon there were large chunks of borax. I asked the use of borax several times and never really got an answer. My research provided the answer that borax is used for metallurgy, detergents, fiberglass, cosmetics, enamel glazes, etc.

Our lodging for the evening was way more basic than the previous night. All six of us shared a room and spent the night shivering. The Chileans and I struggled to breathe and barely slept a wink. One huge plus to being out in the middle of nowhere was that the stars were out of this world (literally).  As our fingers froze we all stood in amazement of the stunning constellations and how visible they were.

Our last day started at 4:30 am. Remembering breakfast from the previous day, we waited until the other groups had abandoned their tables and scooped up their left-overs. We like food what can I say. We climbed to 5,000 meters to visit the Sol de Mañana geysers. The plums of sulfur were illuminated by the morning light and felt other worldly. Next up was a really lame thirty minute stop at a natural hot spring. None of us opted to pay to sit in the ridiculously small hot spring and instead put our feet in the free runoff. Last but not least we visited the brilliantly green colored Laguna Verde and Volcan Licancabur.  At this point we dropped off Gerardo and Caro at the Chilean border for their transfer to San Pedro de Atacama and the rest of us settled in for the seven hour drive back to Uyuni.

Other than our scruples with the tour company and my serious altitude issues, the tour was a highlight of the trip thus far. The Germans made us laugh, the Chileans were incredibly enjoyable to chat with, and Bernando was just a very highly energized strange man. If you ever get the chance, come check out the beautiful landscapes of the Uyuni Salt Flats. May you breathe easily and be surrounded by a fun tour group.


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Who am I traveling with?

9/27/2015

 
I received a comment from a friend that I never properly introduced the person I am now traveling with. If you have been reading along for the past year, perhaps you recall the two Argentinians we met in Vietnam. I was traveling with two friends, my brother, and my sister-in-law. I was organizing a tour for the five of us, but the van had room for seven. I asked the three people in the hotel lobby if any of them would like to join. Unfortunately, the two Argentinians and the solo-traveling French woman all had interest, but we only had room for two more. Two made more sense than one, so Diego and Nicolas entered my life. At the time I had no idea how significant they would become to me down the road. Ironically, Diego later told me that he and Nico had had a conversation around that time about the fact that regardless of how much you like a friend you meet on the road, it just isn’t possible to ever see them again. Ha! I can tell you now that ten of my closest friends I met on the road Diego and Nico included. Anyway, we spent a day and a half with them and it was very pleasant. They are both polite, well-spoken, and entertaining people. I liked them both right away. We stayed in touch through quick messages and suggestions on what to do throughout the rest of Vietnam. Fast forward five months and I arrived in Argentina. Nicolas made my move seamless. He helped me get my cell phone, insurance, and a place to live. He even signed me up for my Spanish course and acted as my translator at the doctor’s office. Diego was consistently obnoxious and our love/hate relationship bloomed into something involving constant mockery and sarcasm. If you are reading this Diego, I am only going to put this into writing once… I really like and admire you. Ok, I said it now I can go back to telling you that you smell of elderberries and that you come from hamsters.

They introduced me to their friends and family members and I instantly fell in love with their people. I can’t highlight enough how much I appreciate and respect each person in their circle. Conveniently, Nico had recently decided to transition out of his full time job as a software engineer to do freelance work. His plan was to work and travel the world. So the plot for him to join me around Argentina was born. That brings us up to the present and why I am stuck with him. I know I know you should always read the small print on these things. Oh well, it is too late I already signed.

Hopefully, this is an adequate and satisfactory introduction.

Crossing the Bolivian Border on Foot

9/23/2015

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La Quiaca is the most northern Argentinian town and is directly across the Bolivian border from Villazon. We stayed one night there in order to give us ample time to cross the border before catching our train to Uyuni.  Something important to keep in mind is there is an hour time difference between Bolivia and Argentina. We awoke early at the Copacabana Hostel (highly recommended) and fought with the almost nonexistent internet in an attempt to at least book hostels for the next three towns. I am not sure why we were in such a rush because after all we were going to save an hour due to the time difference. In our hurry we made the poor decision of waiting to buy food in Bolivia… more on that later.

With our backs loaded up we walked from the hostel for about 6 blocks to the border crossing. We stopped to take photos with the sign marking the northern most point of Argentina and that to reach the southernmost point, Ushuaia (very close to where Nico is from), you would have to travel over 5,000 km. There is an official border crossing and an illegal border crossing. The best part is the illegal crossing is within sight of the legal one. We stood and watched for a moment as hordes of locals ran across with wheel barrows loaded up with goods.

Keep in mind that this border crossing is pretty shabby and not very well signed. I have actually read of travelers walking through it without being processed and later paying the consequences of “illegally” entering Bolivia. We walked through Argentinian immigration quickly and reached the less organized Bolivian immigration window. Just feet across the border and it was already blatantly obvious that Argentina and Bolivia are not on the same playing field. I handed the immigration officer my passport and 160 USD for my visa. I wish my country didn’t charge foreigners so much to visit the US because it means we have to pay a lot as well. The nice thing is that the visa is good for ten years. The man looked at my passport, examined each bill meticulously, set everything down, walked over to his desk and played with his phone, chatted with someone through a window, picked up my passport/money and left the building. As a seasoned traveler not a ton of things really rattle me. Someone nonchalantly leaving my sight with my passport and my cash qualifies as disconcerting. We waited with all our stuff still on our backs as people flowed through immediately behind us. After some serious waiting, he returned and calmly sat at his desk. It appeared that my visa was being processed, so Nico left to deal with his tax forms which were inconveniently out of sight. Since Nico is Argentinian, he doesn’t even need his passport to enter other South American countries. The crummy thing for him is that for tax purposes the Argentinian government requires its citizens to declare each electronic item they take out of the country with them. When they return they show the declaration and all is well. If they enter the country without a tax declaration, it means they must have purchased the item outside the country and thus owe the government 50% of its value. Ridiculous! Of course right about when he left a new immigration official arrived and informed me that sixty of my US dollars were not of good enough quality. I took them directly from my bank in Portland specifically for this visa and even had made sure they were crisp! What the heck. It was frustrating considering the fact that I only had one extra twenty. Thus, my piece of advice for other travelers is to always A. bring extra cash for your visas and B. make sure each bill is of the most recent date of issue. So in my elementary Spanish I told the man that I would wait for Nico to come back hoping that he had US dollars. I stood their shifting from one foot to another amazed by how long it took him to declare his stuff. About 40 minutes passed and finally he returned. He saved the day with sixty new US dollars. We were in!

As we walked into the town, Nico told me that the Argentinian official he dealt with felt uncomfortable for him for bringing so many electronics with him and gave him a strong warning of the safety of Villazon. Oh boy was he right. Everything felt so much grungier, the people stared at us, and it was clear we were no longer in Kansas. Already tired and sweating we proceeded to walk 15 blocks to the train station. I had read that the main situation in which people get mugged in Bolivia is in taxis and we had just withdrawn money from the ATM with many locals eyeing us.

As we entered the train station we saw an Argentinian group of three that we had passed in a restaurant the evening previously. We discussed the dire fact that there was no safe food available in the town and that we had an absurd wait ahead of us. One of them suggested not eating any unpackaged food due to the lack of sanitation in Villazon. The train was supposed to leave at 3:30pm and we arrived at noon. Don’t worry all the warnings we had read about Bolivian transit were correct the train left at 6:30pm. During the wait, Nico went out in search of some form of nutrition. He came back with a can of tuna that wasn’t really tuna and a can of mystery meat that once opened he couldn’t even accept eating. Luckily, we had one can left of Argentinian tuna, so we split it down the middle. We are healthy people, but we eat a lot. When we went to the food truck expo in Buenos Aires, Nati was surprised to realize that our first dish was only a snack and not our meal. We proceeded to buy two more dishes. Ergo, you can imagine the feeling of desperation when there wasn’t even an option to buy food to get us through the next 6.5 hours of waiting and 7 hours of a train ride. I am the type of person that would prefer carry an extra unnecessary 3 lbs. of food than not have anything at all.

Before boarding the train, I used the station’s restroom. The young girl manning it, pulled herself up on the counter while I was washing my hands and grabbed my necklace. In Spanish she asked me where I bought it and how much it cost. She said it looked expensive and that she wanted it. That was not my first clue that Bolivia was going to be an interesting experience.

Stay tuned for the bizarre train and the Uyuni Salt Flats! Welcome to Bolivia.

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Jujuy: Purmamarca, Tilcara, & Humahuaca

9/20/2015

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The first thing I noticed as soon as we landed in the north of Argentina was the genetic make-up of the people. In Buenos Aires the population is predominantly made up of descendants of European immigrants. Here the people are much more indigenous and thus are shorter and have much darker coloring. I joked that my parents could have selected different partners and thus have given me A. a higher tolerance of high altitude and B. darker skin. Alas, I am stuck with the genes I have and will do my best to be grateful.

Our first stop in Jujuy was a town called Purmamarca. It is famous for a seven colored mountain. There isn’t much to the town and its existence is predominantly for tourists. Starting early in the morning the central plaza is completely ensconced by tables piled high with fake llama sweaters made in either Bolivia or China. There is a nice circuit trail that takes roughly an hour to hike just outside of town. It takes you up high enough to get some awesome views of the surrounding mountains and their multicolored layers of minerals. We did the hike twice, well technically I did it twice. Nico ran it one of the times and definitely felt the difference in elevation from Buenos Aires. We also ate at the restaurant, Los Colores, twice. There was live music and they served quinoa milanesa, llama meat, pollo picante, and a plethora of other local dishes. I love quinoa and unfortunately it is usually expensive in most places around the world, but in this region it is very prevalent and cheap! For other travelers I recommend just a one night stay in Purmamarca or make a pit stop on your way to Tilcara. 

We took the bus to Tilcara and were greeted by a dusty dirty town. On our walk to the hostel I started to feel off. I felt dizzy and light headed. We checked into the Albahaca Hostel. It is a very friendly place, but the hippies running it albeit welcoming are very lazy. Let’s just say the water heater had two knives sticking out of it in an attempt to keep the temperature gage in place and all the dishes in the communal kitchen were covered with bugs. After checking in, we went in search of food and that is when the altitude sickness first hit me. I almost passed out. Luckily, Nico got me to a chair in time. We ate pollo milanesa and both experienced bouts of stomach issues. Apparently it isn’t wise to eat at a restaurant housed in a mechanic shop for your future reference.  Due to the altitude sickness I began drinking copious amounts of mate de coca. Tea made from the leaves of the coca plant, the very ones used to make cocaine. The leaves are soaked in acid, stripped of all nutritional value, and reduced to the fine powdered drug. Before this process, the leaves help chewers fight fatigue, hunger, combat altitude sickness, and act as an anesthetic.

The second day in Tilcara gave us a completely different view of the town. The rising sun highlighted the surrounding mountains and it was still too early for the dust to have been kicked up by the afternoon traffic. We met our tour guide for the day and set off. He led us up into the mountains and to the Waira Caves. He shared a lot about the region’s culture and how it has preserved many aspects of the Incan culture.

He explained how since the time of the Incas the people of the area have held the sun god (male) and Mother Earth (obviously female) in high esteem. There is a stronger sense of gender equality in their culture greatly due to the significance of Pachamama (Mother Earth). He said it is very common for women to pursue their own careers outside of the home, go to university, and to go out and see the world in their twenties. When they are around 28 or 29 it is time for them to find their mate and to start having kids. He went onto to say like a woman’s body the earth has a 28 day cycle with a 5 day purification period. He even went as far as saying that men should take note of how the sun “works” the earth. “A man should not only focus on his own pleasure, but use his mind to delay his for the sake of the woman’s pleasure.” He then spent about 15 minutes explaining how strong the bond between humans and the earth is and that in fact we are one with the earth. Pachamama gives us life, food, warmth, water, shelter, and animals to be our companions.

They, like the Incas, believe that man originally came from the stars and once fully evolved will return. He used the Egyptians to illustrate this by saying that they must have fully evolved and that is why they “disappeared”. He compared their pyramids, which come to a point, to those of the Mayans and Aztecs, which are flat on top. The fact that the Egyptians’ pyramids came to a point indicates that they had fully evolved and thus returned to the stars, while the Mayans and Aztecs did not succeed in this evolution. The way their burials work are also connected back to this belief of returning to the stars. They believe in reincarnation until you ascend back to the stars and thus death is seen as a resting period. They bury their dead sitting up in the fetial position so they are ready to be reborn. We saw this first hand in Salta with the mummies of the Incan children found on Mount Llullaillaco. I really enjoyed how their system of thinking revolved greatly around logic and observations of the earth, moon, and stars. For example, the number four is very significant. There are four seasons, four energies, and four kingdoms.

Knowing that South America is predominantly Catholic, I asked if his community acknowledged both Catholicism and the old Incan ways. He said that when the Europeans came Catholicism was greatly pushed on them. So they began to practice it out in the open, but continued to follow their old ways at home. Even today statues of Mary often include the Incan symbol of Pachamama. Their community celebrates all the old Incan festivals (which involve parties and even alcohol being strewn on the ground so that Pachamama can enjoy as well) and doesn’t follow the Gregorian calendar, but the lunar calendar with New Year’s following on June 21st. He finished off by saying his people live in tight communities that share in everything from joy to sorrow and try to be mindful of all the earth has given them on a daily basis.

We went into two caves and sat through three parts of a normally five part meditation. He sprinkled water on the mouth of the cave and asked Pachamama if we could enter her “womb”. Inside the cave he told us the musky scent was her perfume. I told Nico we should figure out a way to bottle it. We probably wouldn’t make millions, but in this region we could turn a pretty penny. We had to turn off our headlamps and put out our candles for the meditation. It went on for a long time and Nico translated as the guide babbled along. More or less the point was to bring up all our painful memories from the past and to let them sit. Through communing with Pachamama we would be able to remove the pain and replace it with joy.

Once back in town we stopped in his office to pay and met a very nice woman painting gnomes on tee shirts. She showed us the book she was copying the gnomes from. I doubt she has ever had someone as interested in gnomes as I was. I took a picture of almost every page of the book. Obviously, by the title of this blog I have a thing for gnomes. It is a long story and I am not going to get into that now, but I find it fascinating that humans from different parts of the world independently of one another conceptualized these mischievous, friendly, and even sometimes evil creatures. She said that there are many different gnomes ingrained in the culture in northern Argentina and that they have been around for centuries. After saying goodbye we visited the Pucara a pre-Incan fortification.

The next day we did a day trip to Humahuaca. If you plan to continue on to the Bolivian border, I recommend stopping here on the way. We only spent a few hours and could have easily continued onto La Quiaca. We paid roughly 10 USD to split a truck with a very nice couple from Buenos Aires to climb 4,000 meters up to get a clear view of Las Serranias del Hornocal. These North Andean hills are so brilliantly colored they almost look fake. I am so glad we made the trip.

Next up crossing the Bolivian border on foot.

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A Brief History of the Incas

9/19/2015

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I would like to take a few minutes to touch on the history of the Incas. I think most people are aware of the famous site of Machu Picchu and that the Inca Empire was brought to its knees by the Spanish conquistador, Francisco Pizarro. Yet, what I didn’t know previously was that the Inca Empire only lasted from 1438 to 1533 AD. It is hard to believe they accomplished so much in such a short period of time! In most cases they peacefully assimilated tribes into their empire, yet at points had to use military force. Even though there were over 700 indigenous languages spoken within their territory, they demanded their people to learn Quechua. They reigned over the mountainous regions of Peru, Bolivia, Chile, and NW Argentina. The tribes in these areas had stationary lifestyles and thus were easier to incorporate versus the nomadic tribes of the plains. From their headquarters in Cusco they required all men to perform a mandatory 6 months of military service and during this time they would also be put to work building such things as the empires extensive road network. They built over 30,000 km of roads! They were incredibly sophisticated architects and built terraced farms that were far superior to anything in Europe at the time. Unfortunately, for them at the time of Pizarro’s arrival (he first reached their territory in 1526) the great leader Huayna Capac had died and his sons Huáscar and Atahualpa were amidst a civil war over who would lead the Inca Empire. In addition the population was being hit hard by smallpox introduced to the continent by the Spanish. Pizarro’s company only included roughly 170 men and could have easily been crushed by the Incan might. It is said that Atahualpa, the victor of the civil war, was very curious about this man dressed in armor and even assumed he was a representation of the sun god. Supposedly Pizarro handed Atahualpa a Bible and demanded that he convert to Christianity. When Atahualpa didn’t have the desired response, the Spanish had their excuse to attack. Atahualpa was imprisoned and the Spanish demanded a ransom of gold and silver be paid. The Incas complied and delivered the ransom, yet instead of freeing Atahualpa he was killed publically and the thus the empire crumbled in 1533.

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Cachi & Cafayate

9/19/2015

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We walked out of our hostel and there was a dust covered piece of junk metal. I pointed at it and asked if that was our ride and Nico nodded his head. All I could do was start to laugh. Go figure we would sign up for a two day tour of driving in the backcountry of Argentina and we would end up in a metal death trap. Luckily, a much more respectable car pulled around the corner and our guide waved us over. He was an odd and interesting fellow. He is now a retired police officer/ history teacher. At first I thought the history teacher past was going to make the tour, but he shared very little history. For long stretches of time the two of them would ramble in Spanish and I had no idea what was being said. I assumed the guide was telling Nico something of value. Later on Nico said he was doing me a favor by not translating because the guide spent about a half an hour talking about his ‘kids’ aka his cats. Apparently they are brothers and look very similar. They are very intelligent… blah blah blah. Keep in mind he does have human children aged 22, 24, and 26. He didn’t dedicate half an hour talking about them though. He also told Nico about his 21 year old girlfriend. You do the math. His oldest child is 26. Yep…

On the way to Cachi we drove through the Valles Calchaquies across the Cuesta del Obispo and through the Parque Nacional Los Cardones. The park is named after the cactuses (Cardon) that cover the earth as far as the eye can see. The drive was beautiful and we passed some of the most interesting soccer fields I have ever seen. Cachi itself didn’t feel like a destination worth going out of your way for. The main plaza was very nice, but Cafayate really was the crown jewel of the trip in my opinion. After stopping for lunch in Cachi we hit the road making stops in Seclantas, Molinos, and Angastaco. All the towns were incredibly small, yet all impressively seemed to have a Macro Bank oddly enough.

We stayed in a wonderful hostel called, Casa Arbol. I wish we could have spent two nights in Cafayate instead of one. The town is famous for its white wine (Torrentes), so we went to two wineries and walked around the town. The main plaza is very quant and the church is beautiful. We split a whole chivito (a small animal prevalent in the region) and loaded up in the car and headed out. On our way back to Salta from Cafayate we passed many nice natural formations such as the Devil’s Throat (yep another one) and a famous natural amphitheater. Driving through the Quebrada de Cafayate felt like I was in Arizona. The landscape has the same red tint to it and very similar rock formations.

It was a successful trip. The guide was less than desirable, but we tried almost all of the traditional dishes of the region and got some awesome photos. Next stop the province of Jujuy!

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Salta: Capitol of Northwestern Argentina

9/10/2015

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What is now the northwest of Argentina was once part of the viceroy of Peru. During the time of Spanish imperialism the city of Salta was founded. It was founded by Hernando de Lerma, a Spanish conquistador, in 1582. His goal was to build an outpost that could be used to facilitate trade and communication between Lima and Buenos Aires. The city gained great significance during the war of independence. The city was a stronghold for the revolutionaries and was successfully defended by Martín Miguel de Güemes and José de San Martín. Güemes is an iconic figure of the revolution especially in Salta, while San Martín is considered the father of the country and hailed throughout Argentina as its principal liberator.

The city today draws many visitors because of its colonial architecture, museums, proximity to natural beauty, and abundance of outdoor activities. Another plus to the city is its size. Since it is the largest city in the province of Salta, it is big enough to satisfy travelers’ desire for night life and has a variety of eateries to choose from.

The top things to do are visit the Cabildo, check out the MAAM museum, take the cable car up Cerro San Bernardo, go inside the old churches such as the Iglesia San Francisco, and book a ride on the Tren a Las Nubes. We covered the main sites in town. Unfortunately, the Tren a Las Nubes was completely booked the days we were in Salta. Thus, make sure you make a reservation well in advance. I wish we could have done it, but saving the 120 USD has its own benefit as well. Tren a Las Nubes means Train to the Clouds. It is a train that takes you to 4,220 meters above sea level to La Povorilla. The train tracks are impressively engineered especially considering they were constructed in the 1920’s to service the local Borax mines. It is now one of the highest train tracks in the world and considered one of the more dangerous. The views it offers are said to be stunning. At such a high altitude some experience altitude sickness, but fortunately the train staff have coca leaves and tea at hand to help combat its effects. Budget a full day because the train leaves early in the morning and returns to Salta around 11 pm.   

The main plaza, Plaza 9 de Julio, is a good place to start. We visited the Cabildo or old town hall built in 1783. You will find these old administrative buildings built by the Spanish in many of Argentina’s cities and towns. They all seem to have the same basic adobe arched structure. The Cabildo now houses a museum, but for English speakers the building itself is the main attraction. Our favorite sight in town was the MAAM museum or El Museo de Arqueología de Alta Montaña. The museum nicely discusses the archeological finds of the region and even has preserved remains of three Inca children who were sacrificed at the peak of Mount Llullaillaco. The degree to which the remains are preserved is phenomenal. We spent a good 5 minutes with our noses up against the glass taking in the sight of the skin, hair, and clothes of a child over 400 years old. Even one of the earlobes was visible! The displays clearly explained in both English and Spanish the Incans’ sacrifice of chosen noble children in the celebration of the capacocha. They were selected from various towns throughout the empire and brought to Cusco for large ceremonial weddings. These weddings between high born children from different regions were performed to build strong diplomatic ties between even the farthest reaches of the empire. After the festivities, the children were given an alcoholic beverage and buried alive along with troves of silver and gold statuettes. The Incas believed that these children would be reunited with their ancestors in the afterlife and that it was a great honor to be selected. I for one wouldn’t have wanted the honor and am completely ok being a commoner. I will write a brief history of the Incas in a future post.

We took the cable car (100 pesos round trip) up Cerro San Bernardo. It was nice, but I enjoyed it more for the company I was with than the place itself. It is just a hill overlooking the city. If you want to take in the view, get some exercise and walk up the 1070 steps.

The two things I enjoyed the most were the hostel we stayed in and the peña, La Casona del Molino, where we dined. One of the things that Salta is famous for are its restaurants that feature live and very personalized folklore music called peñas. La Casona del Molino had been recommended to Nico by several friends and I am glad it was. It was a bit outside of the city center and thus was less touristy. The establishment had a large courtyard with candle laden tables surrounding a large tree and a strong scent of grilled meat coming from the back corner where food was being prepared on the parrilla. Inside there were at least three rooms of more tables. Luckily we got there early on Argentinian standards, 9 pm, because the whole place was booked. The menu included local traditional dishes such as empanadas (small dough pockets filled with meat, cheese, vegetables, or quinoa and then fried or baked), humita en chala, tamales, locro, picante de pollo, picante de lengua, cazuela de cabrito, carbonada, and several dishes with llama meat. We ordered cazuela de cabrito, a stew with meat from a small local animal, and dulce de cayote for dessert (a jam served with cheese, figs, and nuts). Half way through our meal, groups of musicians began to join tables and play up close and personal for small parties of diners. I love the atmosphere this form of performance creates. Instead of having one band playing at the front of a large hall, there was a unique conglomeration of musicians filling the property with a variety of sounds coming from every niche. We finished our bottle of Cafayate wine and called it an absurdly early night compared to our fellow guests. I was yawning and falling asleep at 11pm while all the guests in their 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s were just gearing up for a night of music. One man even asked Nico why we were leaving so soon. All Nico had to do was point at me and say, “Ella esta durmiendo.”

As for our hostel, Hostal Jorge I, it was memorable mainly because we were the only guests there and so the hostel owner invited us to join his friends for an asado in honor of one of their birthdays. It was a large gregarious group. The birthday boy joked around with me in English and when he gave each guest a nickname, he gave Nico the name Nicholas Cage and I was Kristin Obama. The evening was filled with laughter and the food was excellent. The next day we had an early morning pick up to head south for the towns of Cachi and Cafayate.


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    Hi, I'm Kristin!

    I am an avid traveler who also loves photography, history, and food. Life is short and I am trying to gather as many special memories as I can.

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