Tuesday, 28 January 2014

Explore


It lit a match, sparked light in my dark head and enabled me to feel the pulse of the universe 

Monday, 27 January 2014

Nazca Lines


The Nazca lines are without a doubt one of earth´s great unsolved mysteries. Which makes it all that much more precious and intriguing and I hope no one ever does solve this incredible secret. The Nazca lines, located in the desert near the small town of Nazca in the south-west of Peru, are a series of ancient geoglyphs that have been carved into the dry land by removing pebbles and stones and creating shallow trenches, resulting in amazing designs in the ground that can only be appropriately witnessed from air. Due to the dry, windless and stable climate of the plateau, as well as its isolation (for the most part), the lines have been preserved. It is believed that the Naza lines were created by the Nazca culture between 400 and 650AD. 



To truly appreciate the magnificant and sheer uniqueness of what makes up the Nazca Lines we paid for a plane ride. Whilst the boy was spewing from motion sickness I absentmindedly patted his back and tried to keep the excitement of what we were witnessing off my face in order not to seem like the terrible girlfriend I am. But I couldn´t help it. We were zooming and soaring from side to side (I am really not surprised the boy was ill) in a tiny plane over vast desert landscapes to witness hundreds of meticuously carved out individual figures of both complex and simple stylized animals such as lizards, parrots, orcas, sharks, fish, monkeys, spiders, hummingbirds, and what is debated as to whether it is the figure of a human or an alien.  As well as the zoomorphic shapes there were geometric shapes, simple lines, and phytomorphic shapes such as trees and flowers. The largest figures have been measured at over 200 metres across and therefore can only really be appreciated from the air. In total, the Nazca lines encompass an area of 500 square kilometers, an enormous amount of land which lends an appreciation as to just how complex the task of creating the Nazca lines would have been for the Nazca culture over 1, 500 years ago. 



Whilst there has definitely been progress in the question as to how the Nazca lines were made (scholars credit this to simple tools and surveying equipment despite the incredible architectural and mathematical accurateness) there is great mystery surrounding the theories as to why they were made. Historians, architects, mathematicians, ethnologists, and of course anthropologists, all debate all sorts of theories ranging from the lines being geographical markers on the horizon to show where the sun and other celestial bodies rose; being a calender of sorts linked to the Mayan calender; being created by the Nazca people to be seen by their gods from the sky; representations of counter constellations, such as the shapes seen in the Milky Way; sacred paths leading to places where deities could be worshipped (such as those associated with the availability of water); representations of those deities themselves and animals and objects meant to bring success and productivity of crops; and many more,  including numerous theories ground in astronomy and cosmology.


Contrary to the popular belief that the lines and figures can only be seen with the aid of flight, they are visible from atop the surrounding foothills. However, they cannot be properly appreciated without the aid of flight and it is widely believed that the lines could not be made as intricate as they are without some form of manned flight to see the figures properly. Whilst there are minimal suggestions by scholars as to the use of hot air balloons to help create the Nazca lines, this theory is widely discredited due to the lack of evidence. 


Just to add a little more complexity to this mystery our guide pointed out how some of the animal shapes, such as the parrot and monkey, were definitely not found anywhere near the desert of the Nazca culture, the closest animals of this sort being the in the Amazon, approximately a thousand kilometers away. Furthermore, burial sites nearby of ancient graves from the Nazca times (where the locals still bury their dead close to these ancient graves), contain coca leaves, also only found hundreds of kilometers away. The ancient cemetery consists of mainly Shamans who, due to their high status in society, were buried surrounded by precious artifacts to help them along to their next life. We were fortunate enough to see some exposed graves where the skeletons of these magical men still had their long hair and fingernails, and were buried with evidence of coca leaves. Now, just in case you are not intrigued enough by this incredible conundrum, might I also add that the Nazca lines are aligned exactly on geographical geometric lines with Machu Picchu, The Great Pyramid of Egypt and Easter Island, and sits within one degree to Perseopolis, the capital city of ancient Persia; Mohenjo Daro, the ancient capital city of the Indus Valley; the lost city of Petra; the Ancient Sumarian city of Ur, and the temples of Angkor Wat.  

How´s that for a mystery?







into the wild


"So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are condition to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more dangerous to the adventurous spirit within a [wo]man than a secure future. The very basic core of a [wo]man´s living spirit is her/his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun."


Saturday, 25 January 2014

Colca Canyon


After contemplating whether I would ever attempt a trek again in my life after the Inca Trek, I somehow found myself on another one, only a few weeks later. This time the boy and I were tackling Colca Canyon, an incredibly impressive Canyon (twice the depth of the Grand Canyon in the United States) in the region Caylloma of Arequipa. Our journey began at 3 in the morning when we got picked up to drive a few hours to Chivay. We had a quick breakfast then headed off to the top of the Canyon to see the Condors. The Condor is the second largest bird in the world with a wingspan of 3.2 meters. They absolutely soar in between the cliffs of the canyons, traversing hundred of meters in seconds. This incredibly graceful animal is the national symbol of Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador and Peru, and plays an important part in the folklore and mythology of the Andean regions. Many South Americans, especially indigenous cultures, believe the condor is part of the trinity that makes up the symbol of the three lives, the past, present and future. In Andean mythology the Condor represents the future as it is associated with the sun diety and is believed to be the ruler of the upper world. This majestic bird is considered a symbol of power and health and it is believed that the bones and organs of the Condor possessed medicinal power. Unfortunately this sometimes lead to the hunting and killing of the Condor and this, along with environmental destruction and secondary poisoning from consuming carcasses killed by hunters, has unfortunately resulted in the great bird now being classified as near threatened by the IUCN. 



After watching the magnificent Condors we hopped back on the bus for a short ride to the peak of the Canyon where we were going to start our decent. We started at 3, 290m above sea level and had three hours to descend to the river at the bottom of the Canyon and start our way up the other side. We plodded along at first, stopping for the guide to tell us stories, to take photos and to pet a random dog that had decided to trek along with us. It wasn't physically hard but it was barren, dusty, slow going with steep barely-there trails covered in gravel the entire way down, definitely no cloud forest. I fell on my ass a few times which, along with inhaling dust in the hot sun, didn't put me in the best mood. We reached the bottom where a river carved its way inbetween the gorge and realized just how enormous the canyon was as we gazed up at the towering walls of rock. And then realized we had to climb back out, over 1000m. Luckily we only climbed for about half an hour before having lunch at a cosy little house set on a patch of green in the shadows of the canyon. We then continued on, jumping across little streams, going from tall green grass and shady trees to hot, dusty and dry riverbeds in a single step, all gradually making our way uphill. The landscape changed drastically and dramatically and just when I thought it couldn't get much more surreal we stumbled across a football (soccer for us Australians) match that was being played by locals in the middle of a desert area about halfway up the canyon. The locals had to reach this cleared area by horse or mule, so isolated it was, and being a Sunday they had all gathered atop this peak to spend their day watching football and catching up with friends as family. We went from feeling like crazy gringos, the only type who would attempt to trek the canyon, to feeling very naive as we stumbled across an entire community eching out a living in this other world. After our astonishment had subsided we continued on to where we were staying that night, an oasis. The boy took shortcuts, pretending to be some kind of mountain goat, jumping down the sides of cliffs as we descended down to the oasis. And it was literally an oasis. I rounded the corner on the hot, dusty gravel path and was greeted with  lush green inviting trees, flowering bushes and shaded grass all set beside a roaring clear blue river. I imagine it was almost like the garden of Eden, a natural paradise set against the stark white rock of the canyon. Needless to say we basically ran the last 20 minutes to our new paradise and jumped straight in the freezing cold pool. It was delicious. After relaxing our aching legs and blistered feet we treated ourselves to a well deserved beer, a tasty dinner and a long sleep after talking about how to tackle the 1000m descent in the required 3 hours the next morning. 



Our sleep was cut short as we decided the earlier start the better and we were up at 4am to catch the first rays of the day and start the walk out of the canyon. It was slow going as I had developed a nasty chest infection which made breathing, especially with the cold and the altitude, difficult. More than once I glared enviously at the gringos who were taking horses or mules out of the canyon but at one thought of the berating I would have received from the boy I ensured that my dignity would remain intact and I gingerly climbed out of the canyon to welcoming applause. We did it! And when we stopped to catch our breath we were rewarded with the most beautiful sight. Perched on the lip of the canyon with the sun still rising in the background we marveled in awe at this magnificent place, a sanctuary for condors, of pockets of paradise, of tiny communities that gathered to celebrate each other and their incredible existence in a land of unparalleled uniqueness that they call home. 




im in love


oh how fortunate it is for one to glimpse into the worlds of others, of lives being lived in such joyful strangeness 


Sunday, 19 January 2014

Lagos Titicaca




After all the adventures in Cusco the boy and I made our way to Puno to see Lake Titicaca. Puno itself was not much to see but the highest lake in the world is incredibly impressive. It sits at 3, 812 metres above sea level, can be up to 107 metres deep, encompasses 41 islands and its sheer size is unlike any lake I had ever seen. After staying in an incredibly questionable hostel (not just no hot water, no water at all - new low for dodgy Sud American hostels), we embarked on a tour we had booked with an ecotourism company to visit some islands and stay overnight on one of them with a local family. We first visited Uros, a floating island and the largest of its kind in Lagos Titcaca. The Uros tribe lives here, one which pre-dates the Inca civilization. According to their legends, this superior tribe existed before the sun, when the earth was still dark and cold, impervious to drowning or being struck by lightning. After mixing with humand and disobeying the universal order they lost their status and became susceptible to death and disease. Shamed and vulnerable the people scattered, losing their identity, language and customs. The remaining tribe became the Uro-Aymaras and, based on their now simple and precarious lifestyle, the Incas thought them worth little. Yet the mighty Incas, with their huge stone temples and great mountain-top cities, were outlasted by the Uros with their basic reed homes. 


 It was quite an strange feeling to step onto this man made island that consisted of very solid but springy totora reeds. The  totora reeds are used for everything, for the island itself, for furniture, boats, handicrafts and even to eat. You peel the reeds like a banana and eat the exposed fleshy stalk which didn't taste bad at all (although it didn't really taste like anything). The main actitivies and sources of income on Uros Island used to be fishing but is now, unfortunately like most of Peru, tourism. As a result we got dressed in the local clothing (which is quite bright and fun), brought little knicknacks for exorabant prices (still having moral dilemmas about the implications of supporting the tourism industry but seeing as we were there and therefore the reason behind this new source of income, ended up with 2 ridiculously expensive little bracelets), and had lots of photos pretending we lived in the reed huts on the island. After the fun and games we took a 3 hour boat ride across to Armantani island where we would be staying the night.


On Armantani our new 'Mama' met us off the boat and took us for a steep walk up to her house. She was lovely but it was quite ironic calling her Mama especially as she was only 2 or so years older than Kim. She grew up on the island and had only ever left Armantani once in her whole life. Her lovely but shy husband had gone to Lima for a few years to work but had returned after he found the cars, people and smog too much. Which was very understandable as Armantani is an incredibly peaceful and beautiful island. Tourists arrived 40 years ago but the island has maintained an existence that is intimate and somewhat quiet (despite a few children trying to sell us artisans in which they ceased to be cute very, very quickly and became downright annoying pushy little pests). After Mama made us a delicious lunch we rejoined our group to hike to the top of the island in the late afternoon to see the sunset. We had a great guide, Leo, who filled us in on the history and way of life of Armantani inbetween giggles. As we made our way higher and higher to the top of the island we were treated to absolutely breathtaking views that made us feel like we were on the edge of the earth looking out onto the never-ending ocean. That's how massive Lagos Titicaca is. After seeing an impressive sunset, which I hope stays with me for a long time, we made our way back to our homestay for dinner. Afterwards we got dressed in the islands traditional costume and went to a discoteque in the local hall. It was great, like an awkward high school dance, everyone sitting on chairs around the outside of the room waiting to be asked to dance. Luckily my boy is the king of awkwardness, took it in his stride and we (he) were soon busting out some pretty impressive dance moves much to our Mama's entertainment. When the locals and the band got bored of us everyone started heading home. After we found our Mama, who was conveniently hiding behind the punch bowl (naughty Mama), we headed back to her house under the most incredible and clear night sky. It was pitch black with what seemed like millions of sparkling starts, no clouds, no pollution, just the beautiful infinte that made me feel tiny and insignificant. 



Kim and I both thought that the homestay would involve a pretty basic but appealing traditional little hut-sort of house but instead we found ourselves in a double story sizable house which was much nicer, and cleaner, than some of the hostels we've stayed in. Whilst it was lovely and comfortable we both took delight in the kitchen which, as Mama explained to us rather apologetically, was yet to be renovated. It was a tiny mud room with no electricity and only a small amount of ventilation for the fire. We had joined Mama whilst she was preparing dinner and she did it all by a tiny candle, a single knife and clay pots. It was kind of the only part which, as great as everything else was, seemed a little like the a glimpse into the actual 'authentic' way of life. Now, don't worry, the anthropologist in me knows that a single snapshot is not representative of a culture and that everyone's way of life is fluid, constantly moving, engaging with external and internal influences, and it was quite obvious to see the influences of tourism on the island and especially on this family. But the anthropologist in me also took a childish delight in witnessing this older way of being, the Island family I had imagined. 


The next morning we got up early for breakfast and then after saying our goodbyes to our new family we then went to the nearby island Taquile. We explored the island for a while, finding our way to Plaza de Armas and witnessing the clever irrigation and wind powered systems the people of this island employed. Afterwards we had an amazing lunch at the top of the island overlooking the lake. The boy and I bailed on lunch a little early so we could jump into Lagos Titicaca which was absolutely freezing. I dont think i've ever swum in anything so cold in my life, we were both gasping for breath so hard our lungs burnt. It was exhilarating and hopefully had some sort of healing properties as rumored. We did get called Crazy Gringos but the Australian in us both just missed the ocean so badly and Lagos Titicaca was a sweet compensation. We returned to the mainland on top of the boat speeding across the lake with the wind chilling but drying our cold bones and our wet clothes streaming out behind us, like they were waving goodbye to Lagos Titicaca. 




wherever shall I go next?



to those that dream there is no such place as Far Away