Colca Canyon

(Note: while the date on this post says the 17th, it's actually the 20th.  We started uploading a few photos on the 17th, so it must date the entry from when it's started.  We're obviously still figuring out how this whole blog thing works!) 

We're back in Iowa and recovering from our grueling all-night plane ride and the following day of layovers, flights, and the drive back to Ames.  Thankfully, our luggage arrived without any problem, and (possibly more amazing) the Neon started just fine and weathered our trip back from Kansas City, despite sitting in the economy parking lot with very little gas and oil for over two weeks.  It's hard to know where to start in describing our wonderful trip, so I'll just pick back up where I left off and break it into somewhat manageable chunks.

On our second morning in Peru, we took off for a three-day tour of the Colca Canyon region, an area not too far north of Arequipa.  (I found a decent map of the area online; although, this isn't the same tour company we used.)  One of our first stops was a little roadside cafe outside of any town and which had clearly sprung up as a pit-stop for tourists.  They served mainly tea and desserts, and the three of us tried the recommended mixed tea of coca leaves and the herb chachacoma.   

We had already tried coca tea at the hotel in Arequipa and liked it, and the chachacoma gave this particular mix a slightly sweeter flavor.  Coca leaves were used in teas and candies everywhere we went in Peru and are useful for preventing altitude sickness, aiding digestion, and staving off hunger, as well as countless other remedies.  (For those of you thinking, "Wait, doesn't cocaine come from coca leaves?" the answer is yes, technically.  However, you would have to fill an entire room with the small leaves to get anything even approaching a significant amount.  I won't get started here talking about the U.S.'s flawed policies regarding the growing of coca, but let's just say that a cup of the tea is not only 100% safe but actually very healthy.)  

Outside of the cafe, several locals were selling knitted and woven goods at makeshift stands.  

The ladies Emily works with had made us beautiful scarves and glittens (where the mitten part folds down); however, I had forgotten my hat, and since it was so cold and windy, I bought one at one of the stands.  The price was ridiculously cheap (about $3.00), and it was a stark reminder of why Emily is trying so hard to help the women of Ñaña earn a fairer wage--there was no way the vendors we saw here and in so many towns' streets could hope to make a decent living with prices that low.

The next leg of the drive went along the Salinas y Aguada Blanca National Reserve, a wildlife preserve known for its many species of birds.  The bus pulled over near a large herd of alpacas, so we could take some photos.  One of the main differences between llamas (also found all over Peru) and alpacas is their face shape; llamas' faces are more flat, while alpacas' faces curve around the nose and mouth.  Also, llama tails point up, and alpaca tails point down.  (Our guide kept reminding us, "Remember, llama UP-tail!")  The photo below is of an alpaca.

We stopped again later at a wetland, and saw another large herd.  

Alpacas and llamas are domesticated, and all of the ones we saw had people herding them.  The people use both of these for meat, as well as for pack animals, and the wool of alpacas (especially babies) is incredibly soft.  From a distance, we also saw some vicuñas, the alpaca's wild and elegant cousin, but we weren't able to get very good pictures of them.  (For comparison's sake, here's a photo I found online.)   Vicuña wool is super expensive--a shawl we saw in an upscale shop was over $2,000--because they have to be captured and can only be shorn every three years.  (Sometimes they die from the shock because they're so scared of people, a fact I would never be able to get over even if I could afford the price.)

Midway through the day's drive, we stopped at the highest point on our journey, a lookout point well over 14,000 feet above sea level; since we were far from acclimated, we had to walk slowly.  The landscape here was extremely barren and had a bizarre, lunar feel to it.  Many people have made little cairns to mark the pass, so the ground was littered with these small rock piles.

The bathrooms at this stop were little hut-like structures on the hill, which were really just holes in the ground with a roof over them.  Brian kindly took this surprise photo as I was emerging with my kleenex (the most important thing we packed, as it turned out) so I could always remember the highest point at which I've ever peed.

We finally made our way down into the valley to the town of Chivay (pronounced chee-BAI), the province's capital.

We stopped at our hotel to drop everything off and then went for a short hike to see some pre-Incan ruins in the area.  On the way, someone in the group asked about the rows of small cacti that we'd seen planted along the top of many of the stone walls.  Our guide said they were basically the local version of barbed wire, and people planted them to keep their livestock safe.  (This is a close-up of one, so it looks much bigger than its actual 5-7 inches.)

Although they are deteriorating, we were able to see the remainders of many pre-Incan buildings.  The easiest way to tell if something was built by the Incas is whether or not it has mortar, which the Incas didn't use; all of these buildings did.

After the hike, we relaxed in nearby hot springs, which felt amazing after a long, dusty day.  

The tour headed back to Arequipa the next day, but Emily had arranged for us to have a free day in Chivay, so we stayed behind.  A nice old man working at our hotel pointed us in the direction of a winding stone path on the hill around back, so we set out to explore.  There was an interesting stone lookout tower at the top of the hill, and from there we poked around several side paths on top of the ridge.  One of my favorite animals that we saw was the giant hummingbird, one of the four most important figures for the Incas.  They look and act just like the small hummingbirds we're used to, but they're over 8 inches long.  Here's one of the few photos we were able to get of them (they're just as fast as the ones back home).

One of the paths took us down towards a large stone amphitheater.  Emily and I were worn out, so we sat on the steps and chatted, but Brian went all the way down and explored further.  He found a small cave near what looked like an altar, but he couldn't go too far inside because it was so dark.  

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the town and shopping in the markets.  (Emily and I went a little nuts with the earrings, I'll admit.)  On our way back to the hotel we passed these huge stone figures of Wititi dancers (one of the dances the ladies did for us that first day).  The figure on the right is supposed to be a male dancer; part of the tradition is that they would dress up like women and try to blend into the groups from other areas.  Now, however, their distinctive warrior hats (like on the statue) make it clear which dancers are men.  

We saw this in person the following day in the town of Yanque, where local teenagers were performing the dance in the square.  Every town has its own unique way of doing the dance, and since Yanque was known for its chiefs, the townspeople make a point of dancing more upright, to show this history.

Also in Yanque was the house of one of the Pizarro brothers, now a local museum.

It was still pretty early when we went through this town, so here Emily and I look both cold and sleepy.

Like many towns in the area, Yanque had a beautiful old church on one side of its square.  We learned that if a church had one bell tower, that meant it had a male patron saint; if it had two towers, the patron saint was female.

We had to get back on the road in time to see the condors, but along the way we did get out at a few overlooks.  At one, our guide pointed out a viscacha, which is a cute little animal related to the chinchilla but with a longer tail.  This was another one of the four key animals for the Incas (the last two were the trout and the condor).  

The views of the canyon were amazing.  It's the deepest canyon in the world, with another Peruvian canyon, Cotahuasi, in a close second, and the Colca River winds its way through the entire gorge.

One aspect of Peru that most fascinated us was the agricultural terraces; they are found all over, but the ones in the Colca valleys were particularly dramatic.  Peruvian farmers are highly skilled at growing a variety of crops at high altitudes, and part of the way they do this is to create microclimates by planting on terraces at different levels.

The large, flat fields are called terrazos (terraces), but the ones that climb up the mountainsides are called andenas because they are literally cut into the Andes.

Here we are in front of one of the lookout points.  It was a gorgeous morning but still pretty chilly--luckily we had our warm Ñaña scarves.

We also saw some Kantu flowers, the official flower of Peru, which also had Incan significance.

Our last stop was the Cruz del Condor, the site where we'd have the best chance of seeing the birds.  Condors have the second-largest wingspan (second only to the albatross), and they use these to circle up from their nesting places in the bottom of the canyon on the thermal winds during mid-morning.  While we waited we tried to take in the views of the canyon, which seemed to stretch on forever.

We had been there for about half an hour without seeing much when a bird that had already been flying around and that was either an eagle or a young condor came close enough to photograph.  You can tell a condor is still young because its feathers are brown instead of the distinguished black and white of the adults.  (Brian wanted me to add this little fact: While all birds feed their young by regurgitation, condors eat carrion, so this process involves more acid.  The reason condors and other buzzards have no feathers on their heads by the time they're old is because their parents have puked this acidic mixture on them so often.  Lovely, huh?)

After an hour or so, we'd still only seen adult birds far below, and our guide warned us that they might not get any higher because it was such a cold morning.  (They rise when they get warm.)  Most of the other tour groups packed up and headed out, but our guide let us stay for another hour.  She said there would always be other days to shop, but this was probably the only time in our life we'd be able to see condors, so it was worth taking the extra time to wait.  We couldn't have agreed more and were so thankful she wasn't in a rush.  Finally, near the end of the second hour, some adult condors started to rise.  We were among the only people left at the site by this time, and it was incredibly peaceful to watch the birds soar slowly up on the wind.

They were magnificent, and we sat on the side of a ledge and watched in wonder for a long while.  I can't quite describe the sense of awe we felt, but I know the experience is one I'll never forget.