Hola de Peru!
We´ve only been on the ground in Peru for a few days and have already seen so many aspects of the culture and the differences between Lima and Cusco. Lima is every bit as dirty and nasty as I had expected. I am sure there are some nice bits, but I don´t feel too bad for leaving it behind after just one night. We caught a morning flight to Cusco on the 28th and spent the day getting our bearings, marveling at the number of Inca-period walls that are still quite literally holding the city together. In many places, the 500-year-old stone walls are in better shape than buildings made from more modern materials. People-watching is priceless, too. There are grips of women, young and old, who go about their business in traditional Andean clothes -- broad brimmed hats, colorful shawls, and full skirts with lots of petticoats. Pictures to come later, I´m sure. Some of them dress like this to better sell tchotchkes (aka "shit-knacks") to gringos, but some of them just dress like that because that´s the way they and their ancestors have always dressed.
Speaking of shit-knacks, I will be buying the most awesomest t-shirt ever later tonight. It says, simply, "No Gracias." You see, Peru is a very poor country, and Cusco is full of rich white tourists. Therefore, walking from one end of the Plaza de Armas to the other we are likely to be accosted by at least five or seven women, teenagers, and children, each trying to sell us dog-eared postcards, dolls in Quechua dress, and other crap. They are fairly persistent, and all one can really do is repeat "No gracias" until one is blue in the face.
Last night, we discovered the perfect solution. At this Irish pub we went to, they were selling the aforementioned t-shirts, so now all I have to do is point. Never mind that some of these people may not be able to read, and I´ll still probably have to say "No gracias" -- it´s still funny as hell.
This morning, the 29th, we sorted out our train tickets to Machu Picchu, where we´ll be traveling in a few days. As with most things in South America, this was no easy task. First, we walked to the train station that the Machu Picchu train station leaves from. It was located in the middle of the biggest street market I have ever personally seen. We could have bought anything from freshly killed chickens to whole hogs, coca leaves, and every manner of foodstuff or household product known to man. It was pure chaos and smelled strongly of the aroma I´ve come to call "charmingly rustic." Most of the rest of Cusco smells of urine or diesel. I think I prefer urine -- at least it doesn´t hurt my eyes.
Anyway, the train station was all closed up. Apparently, after all the morning trains leave for Machu Picchu, there´s no reason for it to open until they return in the evening. We asked a guard where we could buy tickets, and before we knew it we were being ushered into a taxi that magically appeared next to us. "Boletos, si, si." The driver seemed fairly confident that he could take us somewhere to buy tickets. We took deep breaths and trusted him. That´s not usually the best decision in this part of the world, but sometimes you have to take a chance that someone else knows better than you, especially when you are but one or two of the many thousands of retarded tourists that try to buy train tickets to Machu Picchu each year. Luckily, it worked out and we got tickets with no real problems.
After that, we went and toured the ruins of Coricancha, the main Incan temple dating from the 1500s when Cusco was the capital of the Incan empire. The remaining walls are simply stunning and in fantastic shape. After the Spanish conquistador Pizarro took over Cusco, he donated Coricancha to the Dominican friars, who built a beautiful building over the ruins and still live there today. The current building houses a moderate collection of religious art done by the Cusco School of Colonial Artists, a group of Andean artists who combined the aesthetics of Spanish European art and Andean sensibilities. One of the most famous paintings from this school is a version of the Last Supper that features cuy, or guinea pig, as the main dish. So awesome. That particular painting is in the cathedral, which we haven´t seen yet.
Well, Chris is finally hooked up to be able to post to this blog, so I won´t hog it all. Hasta luego.
Speaking of shit-knacks, I will be buying the most awesomest t-shirt ever later tonight. It says, simply, "No Gracias." You see, Peru is a very poor country, and Cusco is full of rich white tourists. Therefore, walking from one end of the Plaza de Armas to the other we are likely to be accosted by at least five or seven women, teenagers, and children, each trying to sell us dog-eared postcards, dolls in Quechua dress, and other crap. They are fairly persistent, and all one can really do is repeat "No gracias" until one is blue in the face.
Last night, we discovered the perfect solution. At this Irish pub we went to, they were selling the aforementioned t-shirts, so now all I have to do is point. Never mind that some of these people may not be able to read, and I´ll still probably have to say "No gracias" -- it´s still funny as hell.
This morning, the 29th, we sorted out our train tickets to Machu Picchu, where we´ll be traveling in a few days. As with most things in South America, this was no easy task. First, we walked to the train station that the Machu Picchu train station leaves from. It was located in the middle of the biggest street market I have ever personally seen. We could have bought anything from freshly killed chickens to whole hogs, coca leaves, and every manner of foodstuff or household product known to man. It was pure chaos and smelled strongly of the aroma I´ve come to call "charmingly rustic." Most of the rest of Cusco smells of urine or diesel. I think I prefer urine -- at least it doesn´t hurt my eyes.
Anyway, the train station was all closed up. Apparently, after all the morning trains leave for Machu Picchu, there´s no reason for it to open until they return in the evening. We asked a guard where we could buy tickets, and before we knew it we were being ushered into a taxi that magically appeared next to us. "Boletos, si, si." The driver seemed fairly confident that he could take us somewhere to buy tickets. We took deep breaths and trusted him. That´s not usually the best decision in this part of the world, but sometimes you have to take a chance that someone else knows better than you, especially when you are but one or two of the many thousands of retarded tourists that try to buy train tickets to Machu Picchu each year. Luckily, it worked out and we got tickets with no real problems.
After that, we went and toured the ruins of Coricancha, the main Incan temple dating from the 1500s when Cusco was the capital of the Incan empire. The remaining walls are simply stunning and in fantastic shape. After the Spanish conquistador Pizarro took over Cusco, he donated Coricancha to the Dominican friars, who built a beautiful building over the ruins and still live there today. The current building houses a moderate collection of religious art done by the Cusco School of Colonial Artists, a group of Andean artists who combined the aesthetics of Spanish European art and Andean sensibilities. One of the most famous paintings from this school is a version of the Last Supper that features cuy, or guinea pig, as the main dish. So awesome. That particular painting is in the cathedral, which we haven´t seen yet.
Well, Chris is finally hooked up to be able to post to this blog, so I won´t hog it all. Hasta luego.
posted by Elizabeth at 3:04 PM
1 Comments:
That shirt sounds like something I should wear at school....hehe...
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