Sunday 20 April 2014
Leaving Northern Peru
Wednesday 26th June, 2013
As I leave Northern Peru I have a lot to reflect on. It's gradually dawning on me that, since I left Quito, only my volcano guide in Ecuador has mentioned and been proud of the fact that one side of his family are descendants from the Incas. Other people that I've talked to don't seem to be that interested in the Inca history, especially in Peru, and certainly don't seem to consider the Incas to be Peruvian even though the history books say that they originated in the highlands of Peru. Peruvians are much more proud of their pre-Inca civilisations, and the more I discover about these, the more I realise that this should not be particularly surprising. Although the first thing that generally comes to mind when people mention Peru is the Inca Empire and Machu Picchu, Northern Peru shows that there was a rich and extensive history long before the Incas arrived.
When I first thought about coming to Peru I was eager and excited to learn about the Incas, and even more so when I realised that, purely coincidentally, my route from Quito in Ecuador to Santiago in Chile covers more or less the extent of the Inca Empire from North to South. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that the pre-Columbian history of Peru known by tourists (and certainly myself before I made this trip) often goes no further than the Incas, when in actual fact their reign was comparatively short-lived. However, a great deal more is now known about the many other fascinating civilisations that existed prior to the Incas, including the fact that they were actually significantly influential in many aspects of Inca society which it seems often assimilated practices and knowledge of other cultures into its own. The lack of knowledge in previous years is largely and simply due to the fact that there are no written records before the Incas and most archaeological sites of previous civilisations have only been discovered relatively recently. When the Spanish arrived, they came upon the Inca Empire and everything that came before was as good as lost.
The Peruvians do have a point. At the end of the day, the Incas were only around for a hundred years at the most. That said, it cannot be denied that it was still the largest empire in pre-Columbian America, as large, or even larger than, the Roman Empire, and expanded rapidly without the use of wheels or a written language. So I have to conclude that I'm still looking forward to finding out much more about this somewhat enigmatic civilisation of the Incas, but I'm excited to have another perspective on this country that holds so much more than first meets the eye.
Friday 9 August 2013
Cajamarca
I don't know if it was because I arrived at night with my nerves shot to pieces but I didn't get a great first impression when I arrived in Cajamarca. People were staring at me and the novelty of being the only tourist was starting to wear off. Three people, including the taxi driver who I eventually accosted, gave me completely different directions to the main square (It's gradually sinking in that all of the main squares in Peru are called Plaza de Armas and that at least is helpful) but I eventually got there, found a hostel, ate a hamburger - where they were as unhelpful as could be, offering a menu to all the Peruvians who came in but not to me - and went to bed.
In the light of day, however, Cajamarca seemed much more pleasant. The sun was out, there was a fresh breeze and the square was indeed as beautiful as I had heard. People were out going about their own business - although I still got a few stares - and men in suits were having their shoes polished around the square. I could have stayed a while staring myself.
I was in Cajamarca for less than 12 hours but I did manage to wander around the Plaza de Armas, buy some cheese and chat with a taxi driver about the demonstrations that took place last year, against the expansion of the most important gold and copper mine in the area. Four people were killed, including a 16 year old boy, and this could well be the reason for the lack of tourists in this town. I knew nothing about it, and in this case, ignorance was certainly bliss. But now, I was interested. Mining is a highly contentious subject in Peru, for all the obvious reasons. It is the industry that generates the highest income in the country but brings with it the most problems. In the specific case of Cajamarca, the president, Ollanta Humala, had been accepting American investment to increase the mining activity in the area, in spite of danger of water contamination and drying-up of lakes, thereby destroying local water sources and reducing the amount of water available to the population of Cajamarca and the surrounding area. And in spite of the fact that one of his election promises had been to support the Cajamarcans on this topic.
Cajamarca is also famous for a totally unrelated reason. It was here that the Incan Emperor Atahualpa died at the hands of the Spanish in the Battle of Cajamarca during the Spanish conquest in 1532. Atahualpa was one of the last Incas and was unfortunately too involved in fighting with his brother, Huascar, over inheritance rights, to even notice the Spanish advancing. Which suited the Spanish conquistador Francisco Pizarro down to the ground.
And as far as the cheese is concerned, Cajamarca is also known for its dairy products and it seemed like the perfect snack, along with some crackers, to take with me on my six hour bus ride to Trujillo.
In the light of day, however, Cajamarca seemed much more pleasant. The sun was out, there was a fresh breeze and the square was indeed as beautiful as I had heard. People were out going about their own business - although I still got a few stares - and men in suits were having their shoes polished around the square. I could have stayed a while staring myself.
I was in Cajamarca for less than 12 hours but I did manage to wander around the Plaza de Armas, buy some cheese and chat with a taxi driver about the demonstrations that took place last year, against the expansion of the most important gold and copper mine in the area. Four people were killed, including a 16 year old boy, and this could well be the reason for the lack of tourists in this town. I knew nothing about it, and in this case, ignorance was certainly bliss. But now, I was interested. Mining is a highly contentious subject in Peru, for all the obvious reasons. It is the industry that generates the highest income in the country but brings with it the most problems. In the specific case of Cajamarca, the president, Ollanta Humala, had been accepting American investment to increase the mining activity in the area, in spite of danger of water contamination and drying-up of lakes, thereby destroying local water sources and reducing the amount of water available to the population of Cajamarca and the surrounding area. And in spite of the fact that one of his election promises had been to support the Cajamarcans on this topic.
Cajamarca is also famous for a totally unrelated reason. It was here that the Incan Emperor Atahualpa died at the hands of the Spanish in the Battle of Cajamarca during the Spanish conquest in 1532. Atahualpa was one of the last Incas and was unfortunately too involved in fighting with his brother, Huascar, over inheritance rights, to even notice the Spanish advancing. Which suited the Spanish conquistador Francisco Pizarro down to the ground.
And as far as the cheese is concerned, Cajamarca is also known for its dairy products and it seemed like the perfect snack, along with some crackers, to take with me on my six hour bus ride to Trujillo.
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| Plaza de Armas by night |
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| view from my window |
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| Plaza de Armas by day |
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| Cajamarca cathedral |
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| Peruvian lady in traditional Cajamarca dress... |
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| ... and traditional Cajamarca hat |
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| business man having his shoes shined before going to work |
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| San Francisco church on the Plaza de Armas |
Monday 8 July 2013
Celendin to Cajamarca
I don't normally get the chance to do this but I wrote my last post almost straight after the bus ride, and if I'm honest I was feeling pretty smug and pleased with myself for having taken this route, survived the vertigo, and got away with it.
The next part of the bus journey wiped the smile off my face. Ten minutes out of Celendín, now in the dark, the bus ground to a halt and all the men were asked to get off the bus to reduce the weight, and therefore the danger, on a really narrow part of the road. Was this some kind of twisted Peruvian logic?! Isn't it women and children first?! It's all very well weighing less but I would have been much happier standing outside the bus on ground "afirmado" if there was any risk whatsoever of the bus toppling over the edge! But I lived to tell the tale and vowed never to travel on these kind of roads again. There's no need to push it. I spent the rest of the bumpy two hours to Cajamarca gripped to my seat, and wished the old man with the oranges was still sitting in front of me. For some reason, it was a comforting thought. Eventually, after what seemed like another 8 hours, somehow we made it. I leapt out of the bus onto the dark, noisy streets of Cajamarca and went off to find my hostel and some safe, firmer than firm, ground.
The next part of the bus journey wiped the smile off my face. Ten minutes out of Celendín, now in the dark, the bus ground to a halt and all the men were asked to get off the bus to reduce the weight, and therefore the danger, on a really narrow part of the road. Was this some kind of twisted Peruvian logic?! Isn't it women and children first?! It's all very well weighing less but I would have been much happier standing outside the bus on ground "afirmado" if there was any risk whatsoever of the bus toppling over the edge! But I lived to tell the tale and vowed never to travel on these kind of roads again. There's no need to push it. I spent the rest of the bumpy two hours to Cajamarca gripped to my seat, and wished the old man with the oranges was still sitting in front of me. For some reason, it was a comforting thought. Eventually, after what seemed like another 8 hours, somehow we made it. I leapt out of the bus onto the dark, noisy streets of Cajamarca and went off to find my hostel and some safe, firmer than firm, ground.
The road to Cajamarca
The road to Cajamarca, or more generally, the whole road system in Northern Peru, is possibly one of the reasons why many people don't come here. All of the roads to go anywhere are twisty and windy at best, and downright dangerous at worst.
In hindsight, I don't know whether I should say I was foolish or adventurous to take this road, but I kept being assured by Peruvians that the road is fine now, and although not all tarmacked, it is "afirmado", which means what it says. So with some slight apprehension, and desperately trying to ignore the worried voices of my family in my head, I got on the bus at 4.30 am and there was no going back. I had asked for a seat on the right of the bus which was supposedly the side with the best views but also the most vertiginous. And I have to admit that there were times when I had to close my eyes as I was sure the back wheel was going off the edge. But the views were indeed breathtaking. Unbelievably so. Again I was the only tourist on the bus. And although the Peruvian man in front of me shared his orange with me as the sun belted down through the windows, I'm sure my constant snapping of photos annoyed more than one of the other passengers. The best part to this story though, is that after 8 hours of the journey, we had to stop for 4 hours in a town along the way to Cajamarca as the rest of the road is currently closed between certain times of the day so that work can be carried out in order to make it safer. There's nothing like living life on the edge. No pun intended.
It also meant that I got to see the small, quiet town of Celendín. And considering I stuck out like a sore thumb, I was amazed at how friendly people were. I took a moto-taxi to the square (another Plaza de Armas) and had an "almuerzo" - a two-course lunch consisting of soup and generally fish or meat with rice, the basic lunch that most people have every day in Ecuador and Peru. It costs the equivalent of about 2 dollars in both countries. In both the restaurant and the taxi, although its not really customary to leave tips, I was going to leave a bit extra as I didn't have the exact change, and neither of them would accept it. I couldn't help but compare with Swiss taxi drivers who charge a fortune and expect a tip on top of it, in spite of their faces that can't crack a smile.
Celendín was a nice break and another example of the warmth of humanity, but I was itching to get off again so as not to get to Cajamarca too late. But we had to wait till the road reopened at 6 pm, just as it was getting dark. At least the next part of the road was relatively risk-free. Maybe I would be able to catch up on some sleep.
In hindsight, I don't know whether I should say I was foolish or adventurous to take this road, but I kept being assured by Peruvians that the road is fine now, and although not all tarmacked, it is "afirmado", which means what it says. So with some slight apprehension, and desperately trying to ignore the worried voices of my family in my head, I got on the bus at 4.30 am and there was no going back. I had asked for a seat on the right of the bus which was supposedly the side with the best views but also the most vertiginous. And I have to admit that there were times when I had to close my eyes as I was sure the back wheel was going off the edge. But the views were indeed breathtaking. Unbelievably so. Again I was the only tourist on the bus. And although the Peruvian man in front of me shared his orange with me as the sun belted down through the windows, I'm sure my constant snapping of photos annoyed more than one of the other passengers. The best part to this story though, is that after 8 hours of the journey, we had to stop for 4 hours in a town along the way to Cajamarca as the rest of the road is currently closed between certain times of the day so that work can be carried out in order to make it safer. There's nothing like living life on the edge. No pun intended.
It also meant that I got to see the small, quiet town of Celendín. And considering I stuck out like a sore thumb, I was amazed at how friendly people were. I took a moto-taxi to the square (another Plaza de Armas) and had an "almuerzo" - a two-course lunch consisting of soup and generally fish or meat with rice, the basic lunch that most people have every day in Ecuador and Peru. It costs the equivalent of about 2 dollars in both countries. In both the restaurant and the taxi, although its not really customary to leave tips, I was going to leave a bit extra as I didn't have the exact change, and neither of them would accept it. I couldn't help but compare with Swiss taxi drivers who charge a fortune and expect a tip on top of it, in spite of their faces that can't crack a smile.
Celendín was a nice break and another example of the warmth of humanity, but I was itching to get off again so as not to get to Cajamarca too late. But we had to wait till the road reopened at 6 pm, just as it was getting dark. At least the next part of the road was relatively risk-free. Maybe I would be able to catch up on some sleep.
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| 4.30 am start |
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| I don't think this little boy was too happy about the road either |
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| road closed |
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| Danger, narrow road. No kidding. |
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| look closely and you can see the road zig-zagging up the mountain |
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| the town of Celendin |
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| Plaza de Armas |
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| my lone rucksack among the cargo |
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| the vehicle that got me safely there |
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