Monday, June 23, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Yunguay
Yunguay is a district of Huaraz that was destroyed in the 1970s due to a major earthquake. Everyone in the city was killed by falling rocks, except for 6 schoolchildren away on a field trip. Today a large church overlooks the ruins, and ironically it has become an incredibly beautiful area.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Huaraz
The first destination of my trip was to Huaraz, a city located in the Huaraz Province in central-northern Peru. Its situated at a high altitude, the highest mountain being at 6768 meters. For someone who grew up maybe ten feet above sea level, it was a bit of an adjustment, but I was luckily enough to only suffer a few minor headaches and shortness of breath. The weather was cool, warmer in certain areas but the nights get pretty cold.
The city itself is beautiful, everywhere you look there are these incredible mountain landscapes, white-capped mountains and hills checkered with agriculture. Downtown has hotels, restaurants, bars, shops, etc. The city for the most part is run on agriculture and tourism, the latter unfortunately is suffering somewhat. There's a lot of poverty, and I can't tell you how many soles we gave away to begging women and children. Its sort of tucked away, and the society has maintained so much of its traditional methods of functioning. Babies sleep comfortably in backpacks and there are llamas alongside the mountains and rainbow colored clothing. It was one of my favorite places we visited, and I would definitely go back if only to see the Nevado Pastorouri, a glacier, which was closed when we were there. Unfortunately, in 30 years there will be no more snow on the mountains.
We went on a tour to Carhuaz, Yungay, Laguna Llanganco, Parque Nacional Huascarn, and one to Queno cocha Laguna, Tunel Ishtka (4800m above sea level), and Chavin de Huantar. All of this was arranged through our hotel, the Imperial, which has some of the nicest owners, and is clean and cheap. As far as bars go, there are a lot around, but the Mococho has great music and drinks. Overall, Huaraz is an amazing city, the people are friendly and seem to be happy. I'll add more later as I think about it. Hope you enjoy the photos.
Taryn
More to come later for Huaraz.
The city itself is beautiful, everywhere you look there are these incredible mountain landscapes, white-capped mountains and hills checkered with agriculture. Downtown has hotels, restaurants, bars, shops, etc. The city for the most part is run on agriculture and tourism, the latter unfortunately is suffering somewhat. There's a lot of poverty, and I can't tell you how many soles we gave away to begging women and children. Its sort of tucked away, and the society has maintained so much of its traditional methods of functioning. Babies sleep comfortably in backpacks and there are llamas alongside the mountains and rainbow colored clothing. It was one of my favorite places we visited, and I would definitely go back if only to see the Nevado Pastorouri, a glacier, which was closed when we were there. Unfortunately, in 30 years there will be no more snow on the mountains.
We went on a tour to Carhuaz, Yungay, Laguna Llanganco, Parque Nacional Huascarn, and one to Queno cocha Laguna, Tunel Ishtka (4800m above sea level), and Chavin de Huantar. All of this was arranged through our hotel, the Imperial, which has some of the nicest owners, and is clean and cheap. As far as bars go, there are a lot around, but the Mococho has great music and drinks. Overall, Huaraz is an amazing city, the people are friendly and seem to be happy. I'll add more later as I think about it. Hope you enjoy the photos.
Taryn
More to come later for Huaraz.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Peru 2008
Last night I had my first, and probably only negative experience in Peru. My friend Siraj took me to see a Peruvian Cultural Folklore show, which included dancing and music from all around the country. The show was incredible, but I found myself for the first time feeling homesick. I was thinking about a family reunion I’m missing right now, one that doesn’t get to happen very often. By the time we left the show, I was feeling sort of down, yet I had never imaged myself as someone who would get so affected from being away. I’ve spent longer time away from my family, and I don’t mind being by myself; I was honestly just missing country.
On the way home, the cab driver overheard that I was using some English words mixed in with our conversation in Spanish. He asked Siraj, “is she American?” Then to me, “all Americans are capitalists.” He went on for several minutes, ranting about the States and how we are capitalist and manipulative and our fooled by our corrupt government, which exploits his people. Siraj began talking to the guy, but his words fell on me hard. I got worked up, I called him ignorant, and told him that we weren’t paying him for his opinions, and that we weren’t interested in what he had to say. He ignored me and smiled, and continued on with Siraj.
Up until now I have not experienced any sort of hostility from any of the people I’ve met across the places in Peru I’ve been. Siraj later told me that many Peruvians have grown resentful over the effects of the Free Trade Agreement, something that arguably is good for both sides in the long run, but as of yet has caused many South Americans to suffer financially. We experienced this firsthand last Tuesday, when on our way back to Lima from Chiclayo, our bus along with 20 others was held up at a gas station on the highway due to agricultural riots. At 1am, a large group of campesinos got together and blocked the highway, burning tires and throwing rocks. Apparently Chavez called for the strike, and in Peru at least, the people petition by affecting public property instead of picketing government buildings. The problem is, according to the general census the police here don’t seem to care about much. I saw maybe one or two police that entire night stationed to “protect” and keep order of the hundreds of people stranded. The rest of the squad didn’t arrive until late that next morning, and the buses didn’t leave until 2:30 pm, when they finally broke up the riots.
In any case, I just as easily could have ignored the cab driver, or tried to talk with him myself, but I found myself growing extremely upset, to the point where I demanded he let us off at the next safe neighborhood. Coming here this summer I expected to learn about myself and grow, or evolve, or whatever. If you know me, then you know that I’m a pretty independent person, and that I like taking care of myself. I’ve always considered myself the kind of person who is up for adventures and challenges, and experiencing new things. I never thought though that I would feel very homesick, or not be able to successfully find my stride in a different culture. However, for me this trip has sort of illuminated all of the little invisible dependencies I have made in the comfort of my own country. I never really examined Americanism, but here I am digging my hands through it, incredibly more aware of where I come from, and what that means.
I’m experiencing a new sense of overwhelming pride, and emotion for my patria. An obvious observation is that so much of who I am is defined by where I came from, and trailing behind the many advantages I was only faintly aware of before this summer, follow weaknesses rooted directly in the soil of my country. I’m arrogant, and I was fortunate enough to have developed standards that don’t translate abroad. I’m dependent on luxuries like texting, toilet paper in bathrooms, buses that run on a schedule. My life is so rigidly structured, much more than I ever realized. And while these are not necessarily bad things, I haven’t been coping with the transition well. I promised myself during the backpacking trip I would make the effort to only speak Spanish and not depend on Siraj’s English. Halfway through I quit, straight up ostracized myself, rejecting whatever I could of the foreign culture I’m surrounded by. I’m mad at myself for not being more passive, not being more with the flow, and for not realizing this about myself sooner.
But as I said, I had expected something to change. Maybe this is not exactly what I had pictured, but its still part of the process. More blogs to come later. For now, estoy en buen camino.
Hasta luego,
Taryn
On the way home, the cab driver overheard that I was using some English words mixed in with our conversation in Spanish. He asked Siraj, “is she American?” Then to me, “all Americans are capitalists.” He went on for several minutes, ranting about the States and how we are capitalist and manipulative and our fooled by our corrupt government, which exploits his people. Siraj began talking to the guy, but his words fell on me hard. I got worked up, I called him ignorant, and told him that we weren’t paying him for his opinions, and that we weren’t interested in what he had to say. He ignored me and smiled, and continued on with Siraj.
Up until now I have not experienced any sort of hostility from any of the people I’ve met across the places in Peru I’ve been. Siraj later told me that many Peruvians have grown resentful over the effects of the Free Trade Agreement, something that arguably is good for both sides in the long run, but as of yet has caused many South Americans to suffer financially. We experienced this firsthand last Tuesday, when on our way back to Lima from Chiclayo, our bus along with 20 others was held up at a gas station on the highway due to agricultural riots. At 1am, a large group of campesinos got together and blocked the highway, burning tires and throwing rocks. Apparently Chavez called for the strike, and in Peru at least, the people petition by affecting public property instead of picketing government buildings. The problem is, according to the general census the police here don’t seem to care about much. I saw maybe one or two police that entire night stationed to “protect” and keep order of the hundreds of people stranded. The rest of the squad didn’t arrive until late that next morning, and the buses didn’t leave until 2:30 pm, when they finally broke up the riots.
In any case, I just as easily could have ignored the cab driver, or tried to talk with him myself, but I found myself growing extremely upset, to the point where I demanded he let us off at the next safe neighborhood. Coming here this summer I expected to learn about myself and grow, or evolve, or whatever. If you know me, then you know that I’m a pretty independent person, and that I like taking care of myself. I’ve always considered myself the kind of person who is up for adventures and challenges, and experiencing new things. I never thought though that I would feel very homesick, or not be able to successfully find my stride in a different culture. However, for me this trip has sort of illuminated all of the little invisible dependencies I have made in the comfort of my own country. I never really examined Americanism, but here I am digging my hands through it, incredibly more aware of where I come from, and what that means.
I’m experiencing a new sense of overwhelming pride, and emotion for my patria. An obvious observation is that so much of who I am is defined by where I came from, and trailing behind the many advantages I was only faintly aware of before this summer, follow weaknesses rooted directly in the soil of my country. I’m arrogant, and I was fortunate enough to have developed standards that don’t translate abroad. I’m dependent on luxuries like texting, toilet paper in bathrooms, buses that run on a schedule. My life is so rigidly structured, much more than I ever realized. And while these are not necessarily bad things, I haven’t been coping with the transition well. I promised myself during the backpacking trip I would make the effort to only speak Spanish and not depend on Siraj’s English. Halfway through I quit, straight up ostracized myself, rejecting whatever I could of the foreign culture I’m surrounded by. I’m mad at myself for not being more passive, not being more with the flow, and for not realizing this about myself sooner.
But as I said, I had expected something to change. Maybe this is not exactly what I had pictured, but its still part of the process. More blogs to come later. For now, estoy en buen camino.
Hasta luego,
Taryn
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