Puno, Day 2: Lake Titicaca

Next morning we were up early again, this time to take a boat tour of Lake Titicaca, which forms part of the border between Peru and Bolivia and has the distinction of being the highest navigable lake in the world at over 12,500 ft.  

Blurry-eyed but raring to go atop our little motor boat with Peruvian flag, Lake Titicaca, and the makings of another beautiful day in the background.

Our first exciting sight of the day was this little island with tepee-like structures which appeared to have been made exclusively for the pigs living there.  Not quite as sophisticated as the cuy bungalows, but still pretty cozy.

The pigs belong to the Uros, descendents of a pre-Incan group of the same name who construct and live on the Los Uros floating islands, for which Lake Titicaca is also famous.  There are over 40 of these islands on the lake, both on the Bolivian and Peruvian sides of the border.

After about an hour on the boat, we landed on one of these islands (Peru side) and our tour guide explained the process of constructing them.  This particular island was home to six families, and each was responsible for bringing one or two blocks of soil one meter deep and about ten square meters around, held together by the roots of totora, a reed native to the area.

These chunks of soil were then pushed together by motor boats, pegged together with eucalyptus stakes, tied up with synthetic rope, and finally -- to my disappointment --  the whole thing was anchored to the bottom of the lake.

Once the base is assembled, another meter of interwoven reeds is placed on top, with new layers added every month or so to compensate for the decomposition of reeds lower down.  Here, Alex tests out the sturdiness of our island.  

Traditionally, the Uros people have lived off the lake, harvesting bird eggs, fishing and collecting reeds and other plants and animal products to trade with other islands and the mainland in a bartering system called trueque. 

Now, however, there is more need and desire for goods which require the exchange of money, which has led many, but not all, islands to open themselves up to tourists -- some offering opportunities to stay overnight in their homes, others simply to stop by and look around and buy handmade crafts -- in order to generate cash-based income.




The woman I appear to be stalking in this photo informed me that their island only accepted tourists on Sunday mornings, and the rest of the week they were free to go about their daily lives.

Motor boats have become a more common on the lake, but traditional canoes like this one still take both tourists and natives of Lake Titicaca from island to island.  The same totora reed used to construct the islands is used to make these boats, and is also a source of food and medicine.  Thus, when the area became a natural reserve 20 years ago, there was some concern about over harvesting.  Most of the threat has passed, though, as young people choose to move to the mainland and demands on the lake's ecosystem decrease. 

Taking a ride on one of the totora boats.  The landmass looming in the background is the island of Taquiles, our next stop...

A natural, non-floating island, Taquiles is the second largest on the Peruvian side of the lake and home to some 2,000 people separated into six communities.

Tourism began making its way onto the island back in the 70s, but most people still support themselves through fishing and agriculture.  Fava beans, wheat, barley and potatoes are all grown in terraces like those pictured above.  Below, the lovely blue flower of a potato plant.

After inhaling the exhaust of combis and taxis in Arequipa for two months (sadly, it's the third most polluted city in Latin America, after Mexico City and Santiago), I couldn't get enough of the fresh air around Puno and tried to soak up as much as I possibly could. 

Our lunch: piping hot quinoa soup with fresh trout or a veggie omelet, traditional dance demonstrations and another gorgeous view.  

After lunch, we stopped by the town square where a community meeting was being held.  The clothing worn by the men and women in the photo is almost identical to that worn by everyone on the island, and the men's hats and belts are woven by the women and carry a great deal of meaning.  For example, the colors and patterns on the hats change as the men get older and marry and are an easy way to tell who's single, while the belts become increasingly intricate the longer a man has been married, since each year his wife weaves him a new one with an additional symbol for some event or person in their shared life.  By the time a man dies, the belt is essentially a history of his entire married life. 

At one point I asked our guide if families from Taquiles intermarry with families from the floating islands, and his answer was that they generally did not, but for a very practical reason: language.  Whereas most of the people on the Uros islands speak Aymara (see previous post), those who live on Taquiles are Quechua speakers, and they are therefore generally unable to communicate with one another. 

After observing the community meeting for a while, we made our way back down the other side of the island to meet our boat, stopping along the way to take more photos of the beautiful lake and sky.

By the time we got back to Puno it was already getting late, so we ran to the bus station and bought tickets for an 8:00 bus to Arequipa (ETA of 2:00 AM Monday morning), stopped by the local market to pick up some specialty potatoes requested by the Ñañas, then made a last stop at a cafe for a final round of hot chocolates before boarding our bus home. 

Later that week after I got back to Arequipa, I was talking to Juana, one of the knitters who I had always thought was from Puno, and I mentioned how much I loved her homeland.  She laughed at that and said she was actually from Espinar (near Cusco), but she loved Puno so much that she considered herself a puneña (native of Puno).  I guess if that's all it takes these days, I'm a puneña as well.

Puno: Sillustani

Many of the knitting ladies are from the department -- Peru's equivalent of a state -- of Puno, and I finally made it to the capital city (also called Puno) and Lake Titicaca on the southeastern border of Peru the final weekend of March.  Early that Saturday morning, Alex and I packed all of our warmest clothes and boarded a bus for the six-hour ride from Arequipa. When we arrived in Puno late that morning, we were greeted by this lovely view of the city extending up from the shores of the lake to the hills that surround it:

I was actually a little surprised by how beautiful the city was because I had heard some negative reviews of Puno over the years from visitors.  The ladies always insisted it was because of lack of preparation for the cold (most visit in June and July, the dead of winter here) and altitude, and I think they might be right.
In addition to the chilly nights, the city sits at 12,421 feet, which is a good 7,000 + feet higher than Denver, enough to potentially leave you feeling the effects of altitude sickness if you're not acclimated.  I'd already been in Arequipa for about two months at this point so it didn't bother me, but visitors coming from sea level beware: Pack accordingly and try to ease your way up to the altitude by starting with a stepping stone like Arequipa if you can.

First things first, we headed down to the shores of Lake Titicaca so Alex could try the city's famous fresh-caught trout.  He somehow managed to down this fish and accompanying french fries (typical in Peru, the Land of Potatoes) in the ten minutes we had for lunch  before it was time to meet our tour bus.  He wasn't disappointed.

After our quick lunch, we made our way back up the hill and boarded a tour bus that took us to Sillustani, pre-Incan ruins and terraces (below) about 45 minutes outside of town.

Built to house their mummified dead, the burial towers, or chullpas, were most likely constructed by the Colla, an Aymara-speaking group, in the 1400s before they were conquered by the Incas.  Many of the towers were left unfinished, and others have fallen into disrepair.  Still, you could see the amazing work that has made many call these structures superior to the work of the Incas.

A little background on Aymara: Though it's the mother tongue of fewer than 2% of Peruvians (a number which continues to drop each year), Aymara is still the second most common indigenous language spoken in Peru.  The majority of the world's two million speakers live in Bolivia, but many also live in Puno and in northern Chile.  While most of the women in the workshop speak Quechua, the language used by the Incas, as their first language, Valvina and a few others from the Puno area are Aymara speakers, and it's a very important part of their culture.

The chullpas were interesting, but as we continued up the hill and the sun began to lower in the sky, we started to get a little distracted by the gorgeous sky and green landscape...

 The view from the top of the hill as we looked down on Lake Umayo was probably the highlight of the day. I had a hard time getting on the tour bus and leaving the breathtaking views and fresh air behind, but the sun was setting quickly and it was starting to get chilly.

On our way back to town, we stopped by a home that was open to tourists so we could see how people live in the area.  I'm generally a little uncomfortable with these home invasions, but I couldn't pass up a photo of this cuy bungalow.  Just tell me those little guys aren't happy.

Another gorgeous sky on our bus ride into town:

Back in town, we found a pizzeria recommended by a friend of Alex's from the area (El Buho) and warmed up over dinner.  Thinking we'd check out Puno's night life, we stopped into a club up the road.  Dancing didn't last long, though, and soon heavy eyes, cold fingers, clumsy hiking boots and the knowledge that another early morning was in store won out and we headed home the for the night...