omehow managed to erase everything. I'm not sure I have ever experienced frustration quite like that ...good times! Alpaca
Xavi and I tried alpaca meat kebabs in Cusco from a roadside stand. Not only were they delicious, tender, and seasoned perfectly, they brought out a rather carnal side of Xavi.
Puno, Carnavale, y mas......
We arrived in Puno, a city in the south of Peru that borders Lake Titicaca, early in the morning Saturday. We rested a bit, then head out on the town to get some lunch and head on to Las Islas Flotantes (the Floating Islands) - that was the plan, anyway. We walked right into a parade in the main Plaza, with some traditional dancing (lots of hopping and twirling of scarves). From there, we wandered a bit, bo
ught some alpaca pies from a street vendor for one sole each (that's about 40 cents), and returned to the square to find a large crowd thoroughly enjoying music being played by some gringos. When a police officer came up to presumably ask them to leave, it was met with much protest from the crowd (see pic). What happened next is a little blurry. A parade of drunken, costumed, thoroughly excited Peruvians danced and sang their way through the square, spraying silly string and tossing confetti at the crowd. I was somehow swept up in the craziness, various people were twirling me around, and my vision was obscured by silly foam and confetti. We ended up in
a large room on the square filled with people and slowly real
ized we were honored guests at a huge extended family's Carnavale celebration. Pisco sours, beer, and the best tamales I've ever had rotated around the room, as did hugs, kisses, and many photo ops with the gringos. We celebrated for hours, paraded en mass to another location with 15 musicians in tow blaring marching tunes, and danced, sang and joked for another few hours. When we decided to leave, it took us about an hour to work our way through the goodbyes. Ne
edless to say, we didn't make it to the floating isla
nds that day.
ught some alpaca pies from a street vendor for one sole each (that's about 40 cents), and returned to the square to find a large crowd thoroughly enjoying music being played by some gringos. When a police officer came up to presumably ask them to leave, it was met with much protest from the crowd (see pic). What happened next is a little blurry. A parade of drunken, costumed, thoroughly excited Peruvians danced and sang their way through the square, spraying silly string and tossing confetti at the crowd. I was somehow swept up in the craziness, various people were twirling me around, and my vision was obscured by silly foam and confetti. We ended up in
a large room on the square filled with people and slowly real
ized we were honored guests at a huge extended family's Carnavale celebration. Pisco sours, beer, and the best tamales I've ever had rotated around the room, as did hugs, kisses, and many photo ops with the gringos. We celebrated for hours, paraded en mass to another location with 15 musicians in tow blaring marching tunes, and danced, sang and joked for another few hours. When we decided to leave, it took us about an hour to work our way through the goodbyes. Ne
edless to say, we didn't make it to the floating isla
nds that day.
Islas Flotantes 
Visiting the floating islands was one of our favorite experiences yet. We took a 3
0 minute motorboat ride from Puno and arrived to an island made of reeds. Our guidebook warned to avoid stepping on rotting areas, as 
tourists who have done so ended up disappearing, only to be found days later wandering aimlessly on the streets of Paris. The islands are perpetually rotting from the bottom, which means they constantly have to be replenished by placing more reeds on top. The Uros people originally established the islands in an attempt to escape the Inca 
expansion. We ate the totora reed stalks (tasted like iceberg lettuce) and went for a ride on a reed boat. We spent the night in a chosa (tepee) made of reeds, feeling the subtle ebb and flow of the island as it rocked with the waves of Lake Titicaca. With no cable TV available, we had to entertain ourselves with camera tricks using a candle at night. The restaurant on the island had an extensive menu featuring fried trout, pan seared trout, steamed trout, fillet of trout, diced trout, trout ceviche, and marinated trout. And all we wanted was some Spam.....
Taquile (ta-KEE-lay)
The next morning, we waited in the cold rain for an hour for a boat to Taquile. After a nauseating 3 hour boat ride on stormy lake waters (Laura and two other little kids got sick. -X), we arrived to a sunny and serene Taquile. The terraced hills were lined with stone fences and archways, and mud houses, livestock, and gardens dotted the landscape. This island of about 1,800 people is known for its detailed textiles. Everyone produces textiles from a young age. Men are routinely se
en knitting chullos as they walk along the rocky paths. Chullos are hats with a large ear flap, they are red for married men and red and white for unmarried men. There are no dogs, streets, or motorized vehicles or any sort. They are a quiet group of folks, generally speaking to one another in low voices, even the children weren't boisterous. Xavi says it was like being in the computer game Myst.
en knitting chullos as they walk along the rocky paths. Chullos are hats with a large ear flap, they are red for married men and red and white for unmarried men. There are no dogs, streets, or motorized vehicles or any sort. They are a quiet group of folks, generally speaking to one another in low voices, even the children weren't boisterous. Xavi says it was like being in the computer game Myst. We were greeted by a friendly fellow in traditional dress (black pants, white shirt, black and white vest, a multicolored waistband, and a chullo), named Santiago. Every man on the island dressed this way and every woman dressed in a calf length black skirt, blouse, and black shawl with bright multicolored balls on the end. This wasn't for the benefit of tourists, this is their traditional garb. In fact, according to our talkative boat captain Gonzalo, tourists didn't visit the island until the 1970's. Santiago offered us a place to stay in a small mud hut without 
electricity or running water that he referred to as his hospedaje. For 60 soles ($25) we slept on a reed mattress and ate dinner by candlelight (room service by Santiago) while seated on a plank of wood supported by two large stones.
electricity or running water that he referred to as his hospedaje. For 60 soles ($25) we slept on a reed mattress and ate dinner by candlelight (room service by Santiago) while seated on a plank of wood supported by two large stones. The next morning, Xavi went hiking about the island and I stayed around the homefront and played with Santiago's kids: 5-year-old Beatrice and 3-year-old Charles (pronounced Char-LEZ). We played in the garden, and they taught me the names in Quechua and Spanish for various plants. I visited for a while with their aunt, Nancy, too, and when I was getting ready to leave go meet Xavi at the port, she ushered me inside her home to meet her daughter. This is when I really could have used Xavi's Spanish knowledge. I participated in a ceremony I only half understood, but this is what happened: after I entered the hut and met her adorable 4-month-old daughter Lis-Beth, we were joined by three other women (Nancy's sisters) and Beatrice and Charles. One of the women brought a plate of quinoa (a grain grown on the island) and some scissors. I finally understood that they wanted me to cut Lis-Beth's hair, from what it looked like for the first time. I
thought maybe a snip of a lock would be sufficient, but they encouraged me to give
her a thorough trim. I did so and was given a bag containing the quinoa and her hair. They explained that I was now Lis-Beth's companion for life, and when I returned to the island, I was to bring the hair back. Gonzalo, the boat captain, provided further explanation, saying that I was now essentially a Godmother to her. I felt really honored and consider this experience to be one of the highlights of the trip so far. I just hope I didn't get in over my head!
thought maybe a snip of a lock would be sufficient, but they encouraged me to give
her a thorough trim. I did so and was given a bag containing the quinoa and her hair. They explained that I was now Lis-Beth's companion for life, and when I returned to the island, I was to bring the hair back. Gonzalo, the boat captain, provided further explanation, saying that I was now essentially a Godmother to her. I felt really honored and consider this experience to be one of the highlights of the trip so far. I just hope I didn't get in over my head!Arequipa
We arrived Thursday in Arequipa, after a 6 hour bus ride where we rode in the very front of the second level of a double decker bus, constantly finding evidence that death was imminent (rain leaking through the window seal onto our shoulders, sudden swerves and constant illegal driving maneuvers made by the driver, dangerous mountain curves at 15,000 feet with 3 foot visibility through the clouds, Bondo holding the frame together). We arrived A-ok and happy to not have to ride any more buses this trip. Arequipa is known as the white city, as many of its colonial buildings are contructed of white brick. We are staying in a hotel housed in an old colonial building built of white volcanic rock and brick in the 1700's, with high domed ceilings and a cool gothic feel. Tomorrow we're headed on a 2 day trek to the bottom of Canyon Colca!
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amazing!
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