A Quechua dinner and a colourful party

One here, one there. From our current location in Asia to our months in South America. If you followed our journey through this blog it may have seemed confused, jumbled up. This is only a collection of memories, taken as they come. And today I was thinking of Lake Titicaca. As you may remember we spent two out of the four months we had in South America on an overlanding trip. We visited Lake Titicaca whilst on this trip, with a group of (by then) good friends. It came after the hardships and marvels of the Inca Trail, the dazzling splendour of Arequipa and the charms of Cuzco. It was our last stop in Peru, before entering Bolivia. I was a bit sad, because our friends Jen and Terry were going to leave us in La Paz.




I did not have great expectations for Lake Titicaca. We were going to do a one nighter with a local family, after a tour of the islands on the Peruvian side of the lake. Touristy, I thought. Another way to tick 'homestay' and 'Lake Titicaca' off the list. I have to admit, though, thus far the overland trip had been a massive success for me. All activities organized were not only good; they all had a 'little extra' that made them excellent. And what I hadn't bargained for was the stunning beauty of the lake. At nearly 4000 meters, Lake Titicaca is the highest navigable lake in the world, and the largest lake in South America. The water shone under the morning sun as we made our way through the lake, with a backdrop of snowcapped mountains. Seeing these giants towering behind us, when we were at 4000 already, was making me agree with those who thinks mountains are the seats of gods.




We played cards as we crossed the magnificent dark-blue expanse, broken by small waves here and there. The lake lived up to its size; it took us nearly three hours to reach Taquile, the first island. The islanders of Taquile are amongst the most colourful of all Peru. Their traditional attire is interesting, as it expresses social class as well as cultural belongingness. Men wear knitted hats; the chief has a rainbow-coloured one, married men wear hats who are mainly red and single men's ahave a wide white band. Married men also wear belts which their spouses weave for them, with some of their own hair woven through. Women wear capes with pom-poms which cover their head, reminiscent of Moorish influence through the Spanish colonization. I found this point interesting; much of Peru's traditional clothing bears the influence of the Spanish alongside indigenous heritage. For example, women who inhabit the Colca region wear long dresses with tight bodices, resembling Renaissance courtiers' attire. However, the dresses are tightly embroidered with images of animals, plants and flowers of the region.




We spent the morning around Taquile, visiting the textile cooperative and feasting on a lunch of quinoa soup, grilled trout and salad washed down with the old Inca Kola, with a magnificent view of the lake. Villagers take turns in providing lunch for tourists, everything is cooked and served from their homes. There are no restaurants on the island. We took off after lunch for Amantani, where we were going to spend the night. Amantani was larger than Taquile, and dominated by a hill. I could not climb it, and opted instead for a game of football with the locals. Our host family was lovely, and they were particularly happy I could speak Spanish. There were mother, father and a 23 year old daughter; all the other children lived in Puno, on the shores of the lake, or had their own families on Amantani. The house was very simple, earth floors and an open-wood fire, around which we gathered for a dinner of rice, vegetable stew and soup. Food was simple but delicious in my opinion. We brought some rice, pasta and tinned food for the families, and some chocolate and biscuits as presents. The father absolutely loved the biscuits. We later discovered, talking to them, that by farming they are able to produce most of what they consume. However, they have to go to Puno for supplies such as oil, rice and tinned food; they are very grateful to tourists for bringing these goods, as it saves them an expensive trip. In the meanwhile, we got ready for the after-dinner party. Villagers dress up guests in traditional costumes, then everybody gets together for a dance. It was a great bonding experience, far more involving than a simple dancing show. We danced with our host family who taught us some simple steps, we had a good laugh.






The following day we headed for the floating islands on our way to Puno. These islands are home to the Uros people, a pre-Incan population originating from Polynesia. They speak Aymara, unlike the people on Amantani and Taquile whose language is Quechua. Uros live on floating islands made of woven reeds, which can be of various sizes and up to 2 meters thick. The islands where initially built for defensive purposes, to prevent attack from more aggressive neighbours. The islands gradually sink; they need continuous maintenance and have to be abandoned after one or two decades. Another island is built and the whole group moves. Reeds are very important to Uros' livelihood; besides the island themselves, reeds are used for building boats, houses and they are also eaten. The experience on the floating islands was interesting and colourful, a tad more touristy though.




As we disembarked in Puno, I gave a last look to the shimmering waters of the lake and its crown of mountains. And we left, bound for La Paz. It was a great way to say good-bye to Peru, home not only to the Inca but to many other cultures, the jewel in South America's crown. We will be back.