May 2007

We hadn´t gone more than a dozen steps after returning to Cuzco, exhausted from completing the Inca Trail and toting our backpacks, when we heard it:

"Amigo, masaje?" (Friend, massage?)

We´ve since heard the pitch maybe 40 times, and are all but certain that massages are not what´s really being offered.

It´s virtually impossible to cross the very pretty main plaza in Cuzco without encountering frantic requests to buy a "massage," or perhaps attend an adult-oriented show, or contribute to a child´s foreign coin collection, or invest in finger puppets, postcards, "original" paintings or a woolen alpaca hat. At some point, a light jog becomes necessary to evade the hordes, who have yelled out on occasion, "Maybe later? Maybe next year?"

The llama-like alpaca, incidentally, seem to have copied their faces from the Ewoks on "Return of the Jedi." Or maybe vice-versa.

Anyway, Cuzco has continued the theme of strange but intensely fascinating cultural pairings in Bolivia and Peru. At some stores, for example, you can buy dolls of sobbing children who have bloodied their feet after stepping on large thorns. Based on our limited Spanish, the symbolism seems to be both religious and superstitious. At others, you can purchase explicit paintings of the Virgin breastfeeding baby Jesus. Still others offer grotesque masks of colonists (used during festivals), including one of an ugly man with um, his private parts where his nose should be.

The real show-stoppers, though, are the amazing Inca walls (one large stone boasts 12 precisely carved sides to allow it to fit precisely with its neighbors) and the elaborate Catholic churches, the latter often purposefully built upon the solid foundations of destroyed Incan temples.

We´ve tended to agree with the common sentiment here that it´s very fortunate the Spanish conquistadors never found Machu Picchu. Otherwise, the Inca Trail might lead to nothing more than another extremely large cathedral.

Here´s the obligatory picture of us after finally reaching the site. Fortunately, it´s not possible to smell us:

And here´s another of our first glimpse of the ruins, once the thick morning fog finally began to dissipate.

And here´s a sample of the amazing orchids we saw along the way. This one is called "Forever Young," and a great Incan ruin not far from Machu Picchu shares the same name.

In the Bolivian town of Copacabana, home of the famous Virgin of Copacabana icon and the daily blessing of the cars, the gigantic cathedral has borrowed heavily from Moorish designs, while old women sell Ekeko dolls (god of plenty) right in front of the large cathedral plaza.

First, the cathedral:

And the Ekeko-themed stall with miniature homes and cars:

The cathedral, by the way, was located in the town because of the supreme importance of the nearby Isla del Sol, where the Incas believed the sun was born. We spent a night there, and couldn´t resist snapping a picture of a local boy riding his somewhat stubborn donkey.

The significance of other oddities has been mostly lost on us, but makes them no less interesting.

In the Cuzco church of San Blas, where a beautifully carved cedar pulpit includes cupids with arms bent backwards and (according to legend) the skull of its creator, the custodians have apparently forgotten to turn up the heat. A statue of a bishop or other important church figure comes complete with bright red knit gloves, while a small statue of Jesus sports a knit woolen hat.

Perhaps our favorite bizarre moment of all came on the train from Aguas Calientes (a town below Machu Picchu from which nearly all travelers depart). At one point, our train porter went to the bathroom and reemerged as ... Captain Cuzco!*

• (Very likely not his real name)

The cultural significance of this transformation was lost on us, but we think it may have had something to do with selling alpaca wool products. At any rate, he danced down the aisle in a red hat and white ski mask (made of the finest alpaca wool, no doubt) and wielded a large stuffed alpaca that he would thrust in the faces of passengers, inviting them to pet it.

Here´s a close-up:

After his spirited show, our two stewards also disappeared into the bathroom and re-emerged ... for an alpaca wool fashion show, set to the disco remix of the flowerchild classic, "If You´re Going to San Francisco."

You just can´t make this stuff up.

After four incredible but exhausting days, we finished the 45 kilometer-long Inca Trail to Machu Picchu yesterday. Despite our sore thighs and aching calves, the whole experience was exhilarating and unforgettable (pictures coming soon).

On our trek with the local outfitter United Mice, we started hiking with our guides Sol and Josef through a semi-arid Peruvian landscape dotted with cacti and Spanish moss-covered trees, then climbed 1,200 meters to a 4,200 meter-high pass (named Dead Woman Pass after the suggestive shape of the mountain peaks).

Then down to a cloud forest dense with orchids and wildflowers and finally down yesterday morning to the well-preserved religious and farming complex of Machu Picchu. Along the route, we passed some beautiful mountain vistas and more than a half-dozen other Incan ruins of varying size, nearly all requiring large and well-shaped rocks to be hauled up steep slopes. Nearly as amazing (and a tad guilt-inducing), we feasted on surprisingly good and fancy food the whole time and watched in awe as our group´s 15 porters nearly sprinted past us on the trail while carrying tents, tables, chairs, food, propane tanks and our extra bags.

Machu Picchu itself was humbling. Dozens of terraces thought to be used like greenhouses for domesticating crops climb up the side of a mountain, with interspersed religious buildings and the remains of housing for an estimated 600 people. The wood and grass roofs are long gone, but some of the solid and precisely-built walls look almost new (Incan walls have apparently survived numerous earthquakes in Cuzco while many of the city´s colonial buildings collapsed).

As a final test, we climbed up the steep Wayna Picchu mini-mountain that overlooks the site. Unbelievably, there are well-preserved Incan ruins there too - at heights that required holding onto a cable to ascend and made more than a few hikers cry.

The experience was marred only by learning that Machu Picchu´s incredible Incan aqueducts and fountains, still fully functional after nearly 600 years, have been reduced to a mere trickle by a luxury hotel that has received permission to redirect the water for the exclusive use of its pampered guests. Nearly as outrageous, we learned that the famous Inca sun dial, vaguely resembling a modern chair and positioned in one of the most important religious temples, was chipped on one corner when a camera fell on it during the filming of a beer commercial.

During the past week, from Bolivia to Peru, we´ve learned a lot about the power of icons and symbols, and how easily they can be manipulated. The Inca Trail, we learned, represents just a fraction of tens of thousands of kilometers of Inca-built trails, designed to help rulers consolidate and retain their power as the empire grew.

Back in Bolivia´s Madidi National Park (last week´s adventure), we learned just how incredibly diverse the Amazon jungle can be when we saw three monkey species we had never seen before, including up-close views of brown capuchin monkeys, red howler monkeys and common squirrel monkeys. If anything helps preserve the Amazon, maybe the ecotourism promise of seeing cute monkeys - icons of the jungle - may do the trick.

In La Paz, we learned that it´s possible to receive an obviously fake 100 Bolivianos bill (about $12 US) ... from a bank´s ATM machine. Needless to say, the country has a teensy problem with counterfeit currency.

In the small town of Copacabana, Bolivia (the original Copacabana, by the way), we learned from a colorful wall mural celebrating polio vaccinations that the only truly happy child is one with a large syringe protruding from his bare bottom. In the same town, it´s possible to buy small statues of Ekeko, the mustachioed god of household plenty, who carries a bundle of miniature cash, food, comfy bedding, and other longed-for domestic goods. If you don´t fancy him, you can buy dollhouse-sized stores, homes or a tiny suitcase with international money and passports to increase your chances of a round-the-world trip.

Right behind the stall selling Ekeko and his accessories, incidentally, is the town´s humongous Moorish-style cathedral, where you can have your car blessed in the mornings and where the famous carved Virgen de Copacabana icon can be seen in all her glory on a large lazy Susan that swivels out from a small upper chapel to the main altar of the cathedral on special occasions.

The unusual set-up, according to our guide, is intended to prevent actual movement of the icon, since the last time someone tried to transport the Virgin (to the Vatican to be blessed by the Pope in the 1800s), a huge storm shipwrecked the boat and killed all but two priests who salvaged her and managed to swim to what they subsequently named Copacabana Beach in Brazil. According to legend, moving her again will trigger catastrophic floods.

Next door, in a crypt-like chapel where the walls have been blackened from all the candle-lit prayer requests, devotees have drawn some of their specific requests to the Virgin with candle wax on the walls, including a very artistic drawing of a home with a huge satellite dish.

It´s remarkable to me how often South American cultures, from the introduced Catholic religion to the homegrown Incan empire, assimilated the icons of defeated civilizations to help convert and control people. The Incas, for example, borrowed heavily in their architecture and iconography from earlier cultures that they eventually overran, even taking as their own an existing god of creation to be worshipped by nobility. The Catholic church, for its part, frequently allowed Incan symbols to appear in religious art in order to smooth the way for converting new followers. Over and over, we´ve seen Mary depicted as the equivalent of Pacha Mama (Mother Earth), complete with a large sun behind her head, a moon at her feet or bosom, and a flared-out dress that resembles a mountain in shape.

And in the Cuzco Cathedral, a famous painting of the Last Supper contains a local specialty as the main course: whole roast guinea pig, with its legs sticking up from the platter as Jesus and the disciples look on. In another painting, a serpent appears beneath the Virgin and child (snakes were important Incan symbols), with tropical birds and what look like llamas behind her. Finally, the wonderfully detailed choir stall in the cathedral contains carvings of important saints and martyrs. Beneath them,though, are what look like naked pregnant women. Upon closer inspection, the naked statues contain both female and male parts, symbolizing the important Incan concept of male-female duality.

It´s not entirely clear whether the naughty wood carver pulled one over on the church, or whether the powers that be simply looked the other way.

Below, I´ve posted some new pictures from the past few weeks of our travels, but first, let me set the scene from our recent foray into Bolivia´s portion of the Amazon jungle:

"Sandro, I can´t climb trees!"

That was Julia, the extremely pleasant but more than slightly nervous British tourist who had accompanied her husband and son as well as Geoff and I on a hike through Madidi National Park.

Sandro was our amazing guide, whose indigenous community has lived in the park for 500 years and now owns and wholly operates Chalalan Ecolodge, a jungle lodge located five hours up two tributaries of the Amazon River.

And the concern over climbing trees was voiced because we were being approached by a herd of 150 white-lipped peccaries, sharp-toothed wild pigs prone to unsettling grunting and clacking noises - and of a more immediate concern, the same type of wild pigs that once ate an unlucky hunter from Sandro´s village.

"Don´t worry," Sandro said, and grinned.

One of the great successes of the lodge - apart from not having to deal with five recently eaten gringos - is that conservation of the jungle has fundamentally altered the dynamic between humans and animals.

Peccaries, for example, were highly aggressive when hunted. Like stinky Hoovers, they´ll eat anything they encounter, especially a hunter threatening one of their own.

Left alone in Madidi, however, they have lost their aggression toward people and are now rather skittish when they smell the unfamiliar human scent. Mortal danger has now been replaced with the thrilling, though undeniably heart-pounding spectacle of having an enormous herd of wild animals milling within yards of you, and then counting them when they dart across the trail in front of you like dirty sheep on speed.

More broadly, the creation of the park in 1995 and of Chalalan in 2000 has provided a model for low-impact and community-run ecotourism and lifted Sandro´s village out of dire poverty. The lodge now employs about 80 of the village´s 450 residents. They have a health clinic and are practicing sustainable agriculture. And last year, the village celebrated its first high school graduating class (of five students).

Of course, most people come to the jungle to see birds and animals, and the lodge didn´t disappoint. Apart from our close encounter with the peccaries, Sandro helped us see more than 70 species of birds, including several species of brilliantly colored macaws. On the banks of the River Tuichi, we saw capybaras (a rodent the size of a small pony). And on a night canoe trip across Laguna Chalalan, we saw the glowing red eyes of dozens of caimans (like adolescent crocodiles). Best of all, we got up close and personal with four Amazon tree boas hanging from branches around the lake and waiting to ambush bats and birds. The largest of the snakes was more than nine feet long.

Here´s a picture of Geoff bravely paddling across the lake by day. We also swam in it, though not at night.

We´re now back in La Paz, Bolivia, after our jungle adventure, readjusting to the altitude. At 3,660 meters above sea level, it´s the highest capital city in the world and enough to give you a pounding headache. From our high-rise hotel, the city appears like a huge stadium, with the city center in a high basin and the poorer suburbs crawling up the even higher hillsides all around it. At night, the lights on the hills all around the city are absolutely enchanting. And by day, there are plenty of exotic sights, like the stalls in the witches´ market that sell love potions, dried herbs, candy, talismans, figurines of Pachamama (Mother Earth) and dried llama fetuses.

We held back on buying any fetuses, but were told that burying one in the foundation of a new building or home will offer protection. So now you know.

Tomorrow, we´re off to northern Bolivia and Lago Titicaca (highest lake in the world). But first, here are some scenes from the past two weeks.

Here´s an interesting street mural in Santiago, Chile that depicts the initiation rites of the now extinct indigenous tribe of Chile´s Tierra del Fuego island (on the right). Adolescent boys would dress as incarnations of various gods as part of their journey to manhood. Sadly, only a few old photos and artistic depictions remain to document them.

And here are two views of the spectacular Iguazu Falls. First, note the location of the catwalk on the Argentinian side of the mind-blowing Garganta del Diablo (Devil´s Throat).

Here´s an overview of another section of the falls (Union Falls) from the Brazilian side.

And finally, here are two scenes from Buenos Aires. The first is of a well-fed cat scratching amid the statues and mausoleums of the Recoleta Cemetery, where Evita Peron is buried.

And the second is of the much livelier (sorry, couldn´t help it) Sunday antique market in Buenos Aires, where stall displays are like works of art. This one was selling antique soda siphons.

After our mostly rural introduction to Chile, we´ve proceeded to eat our way through the cities of Santiago and Buenos Aires, flown up to the astounding Iguazu Falls and are now hoping to catch a ferry tomorrow to Uruguay´s coastal cities of Colonia and Montevideo (more pictures coming when I can find a decent computer).

Restaurant menus here give you lots of options, but they´re mainly designed to show you all the tasty side dishes you can order with the different cuts of your big slab of beef. We´ve had some magnificent steak, as well as sausage and pork and prosciutto, though I imagine it´s a bit more difficult for vegans.

Although it was disorienting to wander around such a big city after touring the countryside, Santiago´s colorful street life and take on public art made for some fun walks. The scam artists, not so fun. Especially the "I´m a university professor, or student, or someone somehow affiliated with a school and I´m helping autistic children by handing out sappy poems and asking for donations" trick and the "No, really, that was a 1,000 Chilean pesos note you gave me for the cab ride and not the 10,000 note that you´re quite, quite sure you handed me" scam.

Poorer, but wiser.

At any rate, Santiago boasts a great pre-Colombian art museum featuring intricate ceramics and textiles, gold and silver figurines and a wonderfully creepy statue of a warrior wearing a full monkey skin over his own. Unexpectedly, the museum also has a fascinating exhibition on well-preserved woven hats that once identified the various communities of the country´s northern desert region.

Buenos Aires has wiled us with its own charms, including some top-notch museums and cafes. One of the best exhibitions, oddly enough, was the modern art museum´s display of photographs by New York artist David LaChapelle, including a brilliant one of transexual Amanda Lepore done up like Andy Warhol´s Liz Taylor. Here´s one from the same series. Warning: most of his other works are a bit more challenging.

We´ve been staying at some fun hotels in the city´s Palermo neighborhood, which is apparently so trendy that they briefly tried to name one section Palermo Brooklyn (no kidding). One of our favorite places, though, has been a much, much less lively district in a neighborhood called Recoleta. Specifically, it´s the Recoleta Cemetery, a fascinating necropolis of Argentina´s well-heeled set - including, of course, Evita Peron. The angel statues and crypts and mini-monuments are grand, if a bit spooky, though the dozens of friendly cats residing on the premises seem particularly well cared-for.

Earlier today, we walked through the neighborhood of San Telmo, which hosts a weekend antique fair with stalls upon stalls of old coins, dolls, swords, colored soda siphons, wooden shoe molds, lace, and just about anything else you can imagine. Interspersed with the stalls and street artists and human statues were some really good tango bands and dancers putting on shows for the crowds. A great way to spend the afternoon.

One of the best days, though, was the 24-hour side trip we took to Iguazu Falls, which straddle the border between Argentina and Brazil. The falls were, in a word, mind-bogglingly breathtaking.

OK, three words. But there´s really no way to adequately describe how the pit of your stomach drops out much more than with any roller coaster-induced case of the butterflies when you´re standing on a metal catwalk that´s taken you across a series of islands and has now ended less than five feet above a gigantic horseshoe-shaped torrent of rushing water heading straight down into an abyss that appears to be a seething mass of foam and spray and a gazillion gallons of water.

Niagra Falls is a garden hose compared to this - according to one guide, there can be up to 260 individual falls in the whole Iguazu complex depending on the amount of rainfall. A one-kilometer catwalk ends at the biggest continuous stretch of them, the horseshoe-shaped Devil´s Throat, which is very aptly named. And incredibly, hundreds of swifts are diving down into this roaring pit, where they actually live behind some of the walls of water.

After seeing the falls during the day, we took advantage of the nearly full moon and returned for a special moonlight tour. No lights, just the moon and starlight for the hike across the catwalk and out to the very edge of the falls, which seemed even more awesome as they plunged beneath us while managing to send up large billowing clouds of fine spray.

And speaking of butterflies, they first appeared on the Iguazu airport tarmac and were soon fluttering all around us, landing on us, decorating the car windshield (unfortunately unavoidable), and accompanying us virtually everywhere we went until we flew back to Buenos Aires. They included dozens of different species in seemingly every color and design, like one with brilliant orange spots on a black background and another called an Eightyeight because of the cool "88" design on its wings.

Apart from the butterflies and some interesting new bird species, we saw plenty of the raccoon-like coatamundis and a rather large crocodile in a quieter tributary of the river. We were able to visit both the Argentinian and Brazilian sides of the falls and enjoyed each (Argentina for its up-close access and Brazil for the panoramic views), though we were a bit put off by Brazil´s theme park approach to the falls, and more than a little saddened by a display stating matter-of-factly that the entire region one of the most biodiverse in Brazil, has lost an estimated 97 percent of its forest cover since 1930.

Here´s fervently hoping that the remaining three percent can manage to hang on.