The Blaus - South America and Europe

30 de Abril - Porter`s Village, Sacred Valley, Peru

One of the best experiences of the trip so far was our time spent at the porter`s village the day before we hiked the Inca trail. The tour agency we chose to go with was Waiki Trek (waiki means brother in Quechua). Part of the deal they offered us was to stay the first night of the 4 day trek with the porters in their village. The porters are the guys who carry all of the food and equipment on the Inca Trail. Their village was about 3 hours outside of Cusco, so we took a bus to a small town near the village, then got into a minivan for the last hour to reach the village. This was a real campesino village, a small rural village that has no tourism at all, and relies on crops of maize and potatoes as well as some farm animals for their survival. We have been to some places off of the beaten track, but none like this. The streets were full of people who were walking their crops back to their houses by donkey at the end of the day, or walking their cows or pigs back to their homes after grazing all day. It was a real Peruvian experience that we were very grateful to have.

We arrived just as the sun was setting and our view of the Sacred Valley was beautiful. All of the crops and farms spread out on the valley floor made the landscape look like a colorful patchwork quilt. We were dropped off in the center of the village, along with Freddy who accompanied us to the village, and we went to put our bags down where we would be sleeping for the night. We arrived a few mintues later at a farm house made of dried mud. We were welcomed into the kitchen by a toothless woman who was very happy to see us, and spoke only in Quechua. In her apron she was cradling a mound of maize (extra large kernels of boiled corn) and she offered us some, which we accepted. After she shook our hand and welcomed us to her home, we went to her backyard where our tents were set up for the night. The backyard was full of chickens, two donkeys, 3 cows, multiple cats and dogs, and a pig pen. We asked where we could find the restroom, and Freddy´s response was, "That´s a good question." It turned out that the bathroom was a hole in the ground in the middle of the pig pen. So, we had to jump over the fence, avoid the 8 or so pigs that were in there rooting around in the mud, and use the hole in the ground without much privacy. After the bathroom experience we donned our headlamps and followed Freddy down the dark streets to the first porter`s home that we would visit that night.

We were again welcomed into the house, and this time we sat in the kitchen with the family of 6 as they were preparing dinner. The kitchen was a small room made of mud, it had a table, two chairs, a wood burning stove made of mud, and some large pots and pans. The family was a mother with 4 daughters and one newborn baby boy, the father was still on the Inca Trail and was not due back until the next day. We brought notebooks and pencils as gifts for the children, because they need school supplies as they are expensive for the villagers. We handed the school supplies out, and the girls were so excited about it, and thanked us many times. In the village most people only speak Quechua, the schools teach in Spanish, so the younger people have decent Spanish skills, but all the older people know almost no Spanish. Just as our Spanish was getting good enough to have good conversations in situations like this, we were foiled by Quechua. We were able to ask some questions and talk with the children a bit. The oldest girl was very proud of her role in the family as the second in charge when it came to cooking and helping with the baby. When we asked how old she was, she put her chin up and with a very proud smile said in her best Spanish "catorce" or 14. The youngest girl sat quietly in the corner next to Freddy and clutched her new notebook and pencil in her arms. She was so sleepy that she kept nodding off and once even rolled out of her chair and onto the floor as she struggled to stay awake. The family insisted that Jen hold the baby and take a photo. The little guy was 3 months old and wrapped up in a brightly colored traditional Andean blanket. We think that most South Americans feel sorry for us because we don`t have children yet. The first question we are asked when we say that we are recently married is, "¿Tienen niños? Do you have children?" Our answer is always, "Todavia no. Not yet." We asked if we could take pictures of the whole family, and they all wanted to see what they looked like on the digital camera after we shot each photo. At first the mom didn`t want to be photographed with her daughters, but as we were leaving she changed her tune. Mamacita asked if we would take a picture as she was breast feeding her son, she was very proud of him and wanted us to take the picture of them in that unique moment.

They were cooking away most of the time we were there, and served us more maize, (eaten like popcorn, one kernel at a time), and potatoes that were cooked over the stove. While we were sitiing there, we saw many little furry creatures running across the kitchen floor. They had everything from a baby cat, to two neighborhood dogs, to about 15 guinea pigs. Guinea Pigs are a specialty dish in the Andes in Peruvian villages, and are only eaten on special occasions like Inti Raymi (the sun festival), Easter and Christmas. So, all the villagers raise these guinea pigs (called cuy), which freely roam around their kitchens, and then are served as delicacies on holidays. This seemed a little strange to us at first, especially when we accidentally startled the guinea pigs and they squealed in chorus and ran wildly around the kitchen. Later as we tried to explain how we treat guinea pigs at home, we realized that our custom of keeping them as pets in cages and making them run around on wheels for exercise is equally as odd to Peruvians. A few days later we ordered and ate fried cuy in Cusco, and it was pretty good. After we finished our meal and talked some more with the kids, we said our goodbyes and went to another small house to meet our porters.

We arrived at the next home (we later learned that this was Freddy`s parent`s home) and went into another kitchen, which was almost identical to the first, except there were no chairs, only mud benches built into the sides of the wall. There were about 8 people there--the matriarch of the family (Freddy`s mom) who was cooking maize and potatoes, and 7 older men (including Freddy`s dad who was the jovial ringleader of the group of porters). There was a large wooden harp that "the maestro" was playing beautifully. The men were all passing around a small glass with a shot of sugar cane alcohol in it (sweet and potent stuff called cañaso), and took shots each time saying "salud." When the glass came our way they poured less than each one of them got, we were not sure if this was to protect us from getting too drunk, or because they did not want to waste all their prized drink on us gringos. Either way, it was cold in the room, and the cañaso warmed us up quite a bit. After we made some more small talk in broken Spanish and some Quechua translated by Freddy, we were served soup by his mom. It was actually very tasty, made of maize, potatoes and parsley.

As everyone finished their food, the alcohol reappeared, and was passed around again. The two litre bottle it was being poured out of was quickly being drained, and the guys were getting pretty drunk. The maestro was going pretty good on the harp, and one of the older guys (Modesto) asked Jen to dance. So she got up and they danced to the harp music in the middle of the kitchen, and a few of the borrachos (drunks) were singing along to the traditional Peruvian harp music. Then the mother asked Billy to dance, and the four of us were dancing in the middle of the kitchen to harp music accompanied by the singing drunks. It was so much fun to be able to experience what normal life is for a good portion of Peruanos. There was one old guy in the room, and he looked like a real Inca Warrior. He had that weathered, distant look in his eyes that made him appear to be someone from a different era. He looked the way we imagined men in the village 500 years ago when the Incas ruled the land. We realized that with no books (Quechua is only spoken, not written), no TV or Radio, and only enough electricity for one lightbulb (electricity was a recent innovation in the village), there is not really much to do at night. It is common for them to sit around the kitchen and drink a lot, and tell stories and laugh with eachother, which is exactly what we all did that night until about 10:00pm.

We were taken back to our campsite in the backyard of the old woman`s home, and told that the porters would come back for us at 6am. On the way back to our tents the porters showed us the milky way and the southern cross in the night sky. The stars were so bright. We shared the night with all the animals in the backyard, and twice braved trips through the pig pen to the toilet. Once we startled the sleeping pigs, and they made shrieking noises and ran around crazily in the pen. In the morning we were woken up with a cup of warm mate de coca (coca tea), along with 8 children who heard that there were free notebooks being handed out, and wanted their share. We had 6 more pencils and notebooks, and gave them away and made sure everyone got at least one item. Our favorite child in the group was a little girl who was on the other side of the wall helping her dad with their animals early that morning. She would just peek her little eyes over the wall to look at us, and when we saw her she would immediately go back to hiding behind the wall. We finally got her to stay up long enough to give her a notebook and pencil.

Our guide came along with the porters from the night before to eat breakfast with us and drive us to the Inca trail. We ate more maize and potatoes, but also had fruit and coffee, along with some cheese. As we ate, there were at least 30 guinea pigs running around at our feet, fattening up and waiting to be eaten at the next Inti Raymi celebration (June 24th). We said our goodbyes to those we had met who were not coming with us on the Inca Trail, and got into the car. We thought this was one of the most authentic experiences we`ve had so far on this trip, and by the end of the 4 day trek we were calling the porters "waikichen" or brothers, as they call eachother.

posted by The Blaus @ 12:51 PM