Pirhana Fishing

How do you catch a hungry pirhana? Well, if you´re Bean and I, you don´t (though, not for lack of trying). But if you´re just about anyone else, you use juicy, bloody beef on a fishhook.

We spent about and hour and a half in the hot afternoon sun, baiting our hooks, throwing them over the side, and then pulling them back up, strippped clean of any trace of meat. Those darn pirhanas are sneaky little devils! Meanwhile, our guide and boat captain were pulling fish out of the river like they were on some kind of Amazonian clearance sale.

After pulling vicious, saw-toothed fish out of the river, and hearing tales about river-dwelling Caymans and giant Anacondas, our guide and captain decided to take a break from the heat by jumping in the water! They simply didn´t understand why we might not want to join them. I guess valuing life and limb doesn´t hold much stock in the Amazon.

Generous souls that they were, our guide and captain did share their catch with us that evening at dinner. So, we weren´t entirely unrewarded for our efforts.

Before

After

Yagua Indians

The Yagua Indian culture is facing extinction. The younger generations are no longer interested in living in grass huts in the middle of the Amazon, like the elders do. Their dialect is being given up, in favor of the universal Spanish, and soon no one will ever remember they existed. This is the reason Bean and I were so adamant about visiting this soon-to-be-lost world, while we still could.

We took a short speedboat ride to an isolated island in the middle of the Amazon river, and walked about 5 minutes through the jungle. On the way, our guide painted our faces, using the bright red seeds of a local spiky fruit. With our new warrior stripes, we would blend more easily with the Yaguas... or as easily as could be expected from two glaring Gringas.

Suddenly the trees parted, and there was a grass hut taller than a one story house in the clearing. We saw several grass-skirted, be-headdressed men milling around, accompanied by bare-breasted women. I felt like an explorer that had just stumbled upon a new and untouched civilization. Which wasn´t too far from the truth, actually.

While we were there, the Indians danced for us, and we danced for them. They also taught us to use their blowguns, which measured about five feet long (making them about as tall as we are). Incidentally, I have quite the latent talent for blow gunning. My darts were the most accurate on the target! If I ever get stuck in the Amazon with a blowgun, I will surely eat like a king.

It is always a traveler's goal to have an unfiltered, authentic native experience, whether you´re in Dutch Pennsylvania, or deep in the Amazon river bed. I can say with satisfaction that Bean and I accomplished this goal, and the influence of our interaction with the Yagua Indians will stay with us, long after the bright red berry washes off our faces.

Monkey Island

Just a few minutes away (by speedboat) from our luxury lodge in the Amazon, lies a little place called Monkey Island. It was started as a preservation effort, to help save the various species of monkeys in the rainforest. Sort of by accident, the monkeys have become extremely friendly, and welcome tourist with open arms. Literally.

As soon as we got off the boat, a wooly monkey named Josè ran toward us with arms outstreched. Bean bent over to pick him up, and he climbed up her until he was resting on her shoulders, prehensile tail wrapped around her neck. Not content to just sit there, he treated her as his personal jungle gym, while lightly biting every exposed patch of skin.

José was quickly joined by a spider monkey, Luis, who was a bit more loving, and less bitey. Soon after that, a tiny baby red howler monkey (we called him Logan, after Bean´s baby boy) joined the party, and quickly peed all over Bean. Once he was fully evacuated, he jumped over to me, and just cuddled sweetly. If there is anything better than cuddling a baby monkey on an island in the middle of the Amazon, I am not sure what it is.



We eventually saw all eight different species of monkeys housed on the island, including marmosets and tamarinds, each one cuter than the next. If you´re ever in the area (about an hour down river from Iquitos) I highly recommend stopping by Monkey Island!

Floating Island of REEDS!

Have you ever wondered how many ways there are to use a Totoro reed? Trick question! The ways are infinite, according to the "Water Tribe" of the floating Uros islands. They use the root of the reeds as the foundation of their floating island, then stack layers of the reeds themselves, to create a 2-meter-thick platform, on which they build their reed houses. Of course, what better way to go back and forth between reed islands, than on a reed boat? Maybe while snacking on a nice fresh reed. Then, when you´re wet and cold from living on a reed island on a lake that is almost 16000 ft in elevation, you can light a nice little fire, using... dried reeds.

Yes, it´s a pretty resourceful civilization, if not exactly advanced. We´ve been told that it´s mostly older people that choose this way of life, but the island we saw housed seven families of varying ages, including very young children on holiday from school. It´s not an easily relatable way of life, but an interesting peek into a completely different culture, with very different priorities. If sitting and staring is your favorite pastime, might I suggest going to live with the Water Tribe?

Visting Maria

Yesterday, Bean and I had a truly once-in-a-lifetime experience. We were able to go to a farm house, which belonged to a young Imara lady named Maria. Well, she claimed to be young... she looked about 40 years old, but our tour guide swore she was only 22. "The weather here is not kind."

The structure itself was made of mud adobe bricks, and the floor was packed dirt. We were only able to visit the bedroom, which consisted of two adobe platforms with straw mats on them, and not much else. There were two hooks on the wall for Maria´s skirts (her only posessions, costing a pretty 300 soles each!), and holes in the mud adobe to put her sandals, when she wasn´t wearing them.

For someone with so little, she was very warm and generous in receiving us. We ate boiled Peruvian potatoes with her, as well as some freshly made cheese. So far we haven´t contracted any parasites from this unpasteurized delicacy, but give it time. I am pretty sure I can feel the tapeworm in my brain.

Mercado Central

Growing a bit wearing of shopping for Alpaca wool hats and llama figurines, Bean and I decided to stop by the Mercado Central in Cusco. Sort of the rough equivalent of an American farmer's market, the mercado had all the fresh meat, cheese, and produce anyone could ever want.







It's times like these I wish the internet had scratch and sniff technology, because that place was RIPE.

Gotta know when to bargain, and know when to tip ém

Since I lasted posted, Bean and I have gleaned two important facts:

Firstly, local restaurateurs will bargain with you in order to get your business. Just because the menu lists a meal at a certain price, does not mean you have to pay it! Just be prepared to walk away, and they will chase you down, offering empenadas for pennies!

Secondly, many of the locals dress up in their native garb, strap babies on their backs, and make a living looking as adorable as possible. If you want to take their pìcture, be prepared to tip them a sole or two. If you take the photo without asking... well, my Spanish isn´t that good, but I do know they weren´t happy.



We spent yesterday exploring the Sacred Valley, including a stop at an Alpaca farm, to learn the difference between Alpacas and Llamas. Unfortunately, all the signs were in Spanish, so all I really learned was that Llamas are much more aggressive than Alpacas, when it comes to hand-feeding them. They´ll rip the greens right out of your hands, and when you don´t have more, you better hide those fingers!



We ate lunch at Arco Iris de Puente, which is easily the nicest restaurant we´ve been to in Peru. The website doesn´t really do the scenery justice, but the food is every bit as good as it looks. We had Alpaca stew, rice and beans, ceviche made-to-order, and about five different types of desserts (it was an all you CAN eat buffet, not all you SHOULD eat)! They also gave us free Pisco Sours, which is the traditional Peruvian drink. It´s sort of like a whiskey sour, but made with a local liquor, distilled from grapes. And it´s nothing like wine, trust me.

After a heavy lunch, desserts, and alcohol, what else is there to do but hike 300 meters straight up, to the top of an ancient Incan fortress? Oh, and did I mention the altitude makes even climbing the three flights of stairs to our hotel room a bit of a challenge? The hike might not have been the most fun I´ve had on the trip, but the view of Pisac Village from the top of the mountain was certainly stunning.