Sketchy Times, Sketchy Places

Well, what an adventure.

I headed off to Island Amantani monday morning, via collectivo boat. Collectivo basically means "collective" as in, a collection of tourists and peruvians cramped together in a rickety wooden motor boat. Thankfully there was a roof. My fellow tourists include the first person from Taiwan I´ve met here, and 6 from France. I spoke good french to 5 of them... the other woman I couldn´t understand a word she said. This couple, living in Chile, was wearing Canadian windbreakers, with Canadian flag on the shoulder, so naturally I asked if they were from Quebec. What every upperclass Parisian wants to hear I´m sure!

First we stopped off at the Islands of "Uros" -- a people who no longer exist. Apparently the last Uros died this century... but people still live there. Its probably the strangest place I´ve been to. The Islands are made of reeds from the surrounding swamp, that need to be constantly replenished. So are all of the houses and structures on the islands... even the boats are made of said reeds. Its pretty sad actually. They raise fish in ponds in the middle of the islands, and the guinea pigs have their own reed castles... with moats and everything!

We headed off to Amantani after that. It took about 4 hours and we arrived at 1pm. Just before we got there one of the crew comes by and gets everyone to sign their names so he can hook them up with a family. For whatever reason I wasn´t interested in this arrangement, since I had just purchased a boat ticket, nothing else, from them. My Lonely Planet guidebook also told me there was a hostel on the island and families could be arranged easily by oneself. I asked the guy if he was putting a gun to my head b-c he insisted I sign up, then asked him if there were other options. He said "no", in contradiction of my guidebook and that was the last straw. I know people here are trying to eke out a living but as soon as they lie to me I just opt out of giving them money even if it ends up costing me.

I got off the boat and walked away from the tourists and swarming locals. Up the hill, I was walking with a woman who was carrying a bbq propane tank on her back. She offered me a place, and I said, Id think about it. I found the city square, and guess what, low-season = no hostel. Then a guy in the square sees me and says "where is your family?" "Canada" seemed like the obvious response. Then he comitted an even more egregious error in selling to me than the previous guy. He just starts ushering me towards this house with his friend in tow, saying "Ok, he is your family. He is your family you stay with him." This is a way to garauntee I don´t buy anything from you, trying to force it on me.

Anyways after walknig around a bit more said bbq woman was on the same route as me and showed me her house. 20 soles a night for 3 meals and a room of my own. Looks like things worked out because those fools on the boat paid 25. Now, if this wasn´t the best value one could imagine I don´t know what is. It definitely got my budget back on track. I paid 95 soles in total for 72 hours, 9 meals, 3 nights accom, and transport plus bottled water. That´s like 30USD or something, or 10USD a day for everything. Ridiculous.

Anyways they didn´t have electricity or running water, but I spent most days sleeping in, reading, doing Sodoku, going for a 3 hour hike around the island, swimming, then reading by candlelight before sleeping at 830 or so. Very interesting place, I´ll have to go into it more later.

To get back to Puno after 3 days I took the sketchiest boat back with no fellow tourists. Then after a delicious lunch I grabbed a 5 oclock bus to Arequipa, supposed to get in at 10. We arrived at 1230 and I was exhausted. I sat beside this very nice rotund woman and got to practice my spanish for a lot of the trip. The last 3 hours she fell asleep and turned on her side. As a result everytime we took a hard right her ass fat rolled over my right leg to form a would be pig in a blanket.

Once we got there she along with 2 other tourists implored me to be careful. The terminal is 2km from the city centre, where I was hoping to find a place to stay (reservation? no of course not), and I was planning on walking. NO! they told me quite emphatically, and one girl told me not to take cabs from a certain area, only from the other. Then the rotund lady introduced me to her family and escorted me to a cab. We walked past the place the girl advised me, or so I think. I asked rotund why we weren´t going to the girl-recommended cabs "too expensive" she said. Hmmm, the sketchiness continues. They arrange my cab ride with a sketchy looking driver for 4 soles and then suddenly I´m alone in a cab with this guy on a street with no lights and no sign of being close to the city square. I formed a quick plan... namely that I would give him all my soles if he pulled a gun, run if he pulled a knife, leaving my big bag, and a combo of run/show him my swiss army knife if he tried to rob me without either. Seems pretty poorly thought out. Anyways the sketchy part of the road ended after a few uneasy minuets and he helped me find a hotel to stay for the night. Such is travelling here alone : assume everyone is going to rob you until they show unconditional kindness.

Oh, also, Arequipa has grocery stores! With fresh fruit... .that doesn´t have flies! And floors... not made of dirt! And the meat looks more than edible, though I won´t buy any lacking a stovetop as I do. But I finally don´t have to eat out for a bunch of meals. I´m going to make sandwhiches. I tried looking for PB, but it seems they have 44 kinds of jam, plus marmelade and honey, but no PB. Maybe Ill make cheese and jam sandwhiches or something.

Tonight I´m reconnecting with Christy, 31, who I met on the Inca Trail. She is here from Oregon on mission, learning Spanish and Quechau, so that she can spread the "word of god." I´m heading to an highly touted Italian restaurant for dinner with her and all her co-missionaries! Don´t believe me if you will, but I can be deceptively polite.

Gareth