Pachamanca

You know how they say a dog often looks like it's owner? well I think that for my friends Amy, Natasha and I, we look like our home stay moms. Well, maybe not look like, but we definitely have parallel personalities. I was able to see this more closely at our Pachamanca a few weeks ago.

So this was similar to the Watia(Huatia) that I explained before. A tower of rocks were heated to cookable temperature, then collapsed and layered with potatoes, oca (another tuber), sweet potatoes, fava beans, and bananas! BUT THEN you throw slabs of chicken, pork, and lamb drenched in green "condimento" on the piping hot rocks. Cover it all with the remaining stones so and paper so that the alphalpha and dirt that THEN went on top didn't get in the food. 

We let it sit for about an hour while we prepared sauces and cut heads off the baked cuy (apparently it doesn't taste as good in the Pachamanca). Then it was ready! everyone got a plate with a bit of everything. The table was pretty much quiet as we ate... Diving into the mountain of food with our hands and pulling apart ever delicious piece until it was gone. To help digest all that food, shots of pisco are passed around the table as you finish. Followed by a glass of sweet rose wine. And then the beer flows.

My friends here Amy and Natasha and I have host parents that are all cousins, so we go to experience this together. As the beer continued to flow, the conversation took off. We sat around with our host mothers animatedly conversing for hours and hours. My host mom Ana just kept opening bottles of beer and placing them in front of us. It was funny to see how Natasha was just as sweet and cute as her adorable host grandmother, Amy was just as dramatic and funny as Maria, and I like to think that Ana and I are both pretty strong and opinionated women. 

This was probably my best night in Peru so far. Part of the conversation was spent trying to convince me not to leave, or discussing how I should come back after my trip to Nicaragua, or even after going back to the states. 

This is what I love about latin america. Animated conversation and these beautifully emotional relationships between people. It will be hard to leave the people who have become my family for the summer.

Food Round 2

I think I had the weirdest combination of foods at lunch yesterday: frozen/dehydrated potatoes that were rehydrated/steamed, covered in squeekie cheese, accompanied by Lengua de Paula - cow tongue. The potatoes had the texture (and flavor) of strange squishy dirt. The cheese made an actual audible squeak when I chewed, and the cow's tongue was actually quite tasty and tender. It was melt in your mouth tender, which should be awesome, until you thinking about eating tongue with your tongue and then you just feel weird... 

This was the first time I really haven't liked the food here. Not gonna make that one at home...

Ausangate

Ausangate. Holy Smokes. This was the most epic and gorgeous trip I have ever taken. On a whim and invitation by my group of volunteer friends in Ollanta - and with generous donations of warm clothing, sleeping bag, and sleeping mat from others here so I wouldn't die - I decided to join in on this adventure. We took off on a Wednesday afternoon to hit up the Urubumba market, then headed to Cuzco for the evening to repack and get ready. Thursday morning, we found down the bus that drove us three hours to Tinke to meet our trustee guide and horses. We were hiking at around 15,000 to 16,000 every day, crossed three passes - the tallest of which was 17,200, and got caught in two snow storms. It was so incredible I'll try and let he picture speak for themselves since words won't do it justice. Well... with a little comentary of course.

Here's the group on the morning of the second day. We finally go to see the mountain that was covered in clouds the whole way to our first campsite.

My tent in front of Ausangate. Campsite #1.

We walked through endless fields of Llamas and Alpacas all trip long. They're so cute!

Day 2: Mountian lakes and glacier on the west side of the mountain.

This was my low point at the top of the first pass day 2. We kept thinking the snow storm would pass... but it didn't. I didn't have my warm hat or my raincoat handy, so just after this picture was taken, our guide Miguel gave me an awesome woven blanket to wrap over my head and shoulders until we found our campsite. I had images of getting lost on Mount Everest and my parents never knowing what happened to me. Again. This was definitely my lowest point.

Morning day 3. Appropriately clothed and ready to take on snowy pass #2 - 17, 200 ft!

Our second campsite. Morning after storm number one.

The ladies celebrating reaching 17,200 ft with star jumps on day 3!

On the other side second pass. More high desert headed towards pass number three.

These alpacas were dressed up all fancy!

Campsite number three. The snow stopped just as we set up camp. but then started again in the middle of the night along with raging winds.... But beautiful, no?

Day 4: Here's hoping storm number three doesn't hit before we get over the last pass

The Promised Land! No more snow!

Celebrating surviving the worst of it in some hot springs at the end of day 4

Day 5: Back in Tinke waiting for the bus back to Cuzco after 5 days of awesomeness. Our guide Miguel and his son helped send us off.

So these are only a few of the amazing photos and stories I have. But this is all that trying to upload pictures 5 days in a row using Peruvian internet will allow.

Sunrise at Macchu Picchu

Two weeks ago, my classmates who are working in Lima this summer made it out to the Sacred Valley to visit me. When I met them in Ollanta's Plaza de Armas, Ben's first words to me were "Josh's eyes are going to get tired this weekend from him rolling them at you. This place is rediculous." Ridiculously AWESOME. I know. I'm so so grateful that I get to spend my summer in Ollanta and pretty happy that I got to share it with some friends. So our main agenda for the Sacred Valley weekend was to visit Macchu Picchu. I've done it once before when I was here 5 years ago with my mom, but the boys wanted to do it "right": at sunrise. After a little tour of town, and introduction to the host family and host animals, including family cow Chiara, we grabbed a drink then hopped on the train to Aguas Calientes for a few hours of sleep before our epic sunrise adventure. 

It was incredible. I'll let some of the photos speak for themselves, but it was so sureal to see the ancient city take on a whole new life after the tranguility of the dark and cool morning. Once the sun hit we climed Huaynapicchu for yet another view of the ruins.  We took our time on the top for a mid morning snack and nap on what felt like the top of the world. Then ventured down and across to the other side of the citadel to the Sungate, where the Inca Trail enters Macchu Picchu.  Gorgeous.

Exhausted by 1 after being up since 4:45, we trained back to Ollanta, grabbed dinner with my volunteer friends, and took some Cuzqueña beers to the ruins for some star gazing to finish off the night... or so we thought. The small Ollanta disco tec still doesn't know what hit it.

I Love Food

As you all know I love food. Which is great because my host mom is a great cook and loves to talk about food. Food words are often the hardest - so I only know what ingredients she's using half the time, but I'm learning. She also has wonderful herb garden that she harvests. She walked me through it the other day pointing out different things she's used to cook and having me smell them. Here's some of the stuff I've gotten to eat:

Watia - For father's day we make a traditional Andean meal called Watia or Pachamanka depending on what you're cooking. It's essentially the creation of an stone/earth oven by building a dome of stones over a fire. You heat  the stones for an hour or so until they're good and hot, then you throw potatoes inside and slowly collaps the stones, adding food layered as you go.  Then the whole thing is covered with Paja - or straw, then a sheet of plastic, then covered in dirt. It sits there for another half an hour to an hour, then the whole thing is covered, the food removed, and you eat (you always peal the potatoes by hand after they cook). Best sweet potatoes I've ever had. For us it was served with Cuy - stuffed with something essentially like spinach. along with a sauce called aji. It was incredible!!!

Palta - So much Avocado. I'm in heaven

Patita de Paula - Paula is my family's old cow. I ate her feet - or hooves I guess. Some piece still had hair on them. It was weird, but hey -  I'll try anything once. I know Lengua de Paula is gonna show up sometime…

Mazamora - Often for dinner I get essentially rice pudding. Sometimes it's made with ground corn and it is SOOO GOOD. But it's like dessert for dinner. And I can't say no when they ask if I want more. So I might have diabetes when I get home. Holy Carbohydrates!

Grenadilla - this is a strange fruit that has a hard shell you have to hit agains the table or something hard to crack, then pick it away piece by piece. then you see the fruit inside that looks kind of like frog eggs. And you slurp out these little juice packets and their seeds to eat them. So sweet and tasty.

Vicera de Cuy -  yup. Guinnea pig innards: heart, liver, intestines, the whole gammet.  Fried up and served withe peas, carrots, fava beans, corn, and french fries on rice. Awesom

Boiled Banana -  has a special name that I forget already. But really sweet and yummy. Bananas will never be the same in the states

Jugo - I recently discovered the juice lady in the market. For 4 soles (less than $2) you get a small pitcher of any juice combination you want. Today: beets, carrots, orange and ginger; then round two was beets, carrots, pinneapple, papaya, orange, banana and ALOE. Not to mention the fresh orange, banana, and papaya juice my host mom makes for breakfast almost every day...

I'm hoping to bring some of these recipes home (except all things cuy related) for whoever wants to try them ...

Just another day at "work"...

Monday I went to Huilloc to do a formal door-to-door community needs assessment. Unfortunately I had decided not to bring my camera, which is a shame because there were so many surreal and beautiful moments as I wandered through this rural community.

Amy, a Sacred Valley Health volunteer, and I were tasked by Leticia, the SVH nurse, to climb up the hill (mountain rather) that this community sits on to find the promotora named Teresa to help us do the questionaire and serve as our Quechua interpreter. As we started our journey up the steep hilside, we asked whoever we could find where Teresa Echami lived. They would just chuckle a little at the out of breath Gringas and point up the mountain and say "Arrrrrriba arriba" - waaaaay up there. So we kept on trucking. We would be stopped occassionally by the few other people traveling along the foot path who wanted to figure out what we were doing up in the mountains. One man was clearly drunk or high on cocoa leaves and was making no sense at all. Amy and I chuckled to ourselves as we tried to make sense of his incomplete Spanish/Quechua questions.

We got to the top of one hill to discover a makeshift soccerfield in the middle of the mountain, set just in front of another dauntly steep slope with even more houses nestled on top.  Asking again, people pointed to a house at the top of this peak to indicate where we should go. So we trecked on. Finally, huffing and puffing, we made it to the top. As we paused to catch our breath, we turned around and were in awe at the way Huilloc layed out below us. Our magical and literally breathtakingly difficult 1.5 hour climb allowed us an incredible view of the slowly climbing valley and distant glaciers. If only I had remembered my camera....

We turned around to find two darling little girls gawking at us. We asked if they knew where Teresa lived, and the just looked at us saying the two Quechua works I know "ari" - yes, and "mana" - no.  We wandered a little further only to stumble upon a group of women sitting amidst piles of "Paja" - hay, and "papas" - potatoes - layed out on blankets. A beautiful image of how these women spend their days.  They confirmed that the two little girls belonged to Teresa, but that she was infact off with her "burro" - donkey - for the day.

So we tried to take advantage of what time we had left to talk to these people so high up in the Huilloc community. We interviewed some of these women in broken Spanish on both ends.  Then continued around the slope to find a few more hidden houses. We walked up to each yelling "Compañera?" until someone would emerge to talk to us.  A cute 17 year old girl helped us ask her mom questions, then accompanied us to two of her neighbor's houses to interpret for us.  At one house, we were invited into the field outside their house. The woman of the house layed down a blanket for us to sit on while we chatted, which I was grateful for since the "yard" was essentially a field filled with pellets of goat poop. Her husband was clearly drunk (confirmed by his wife), and was super funny and very adamantly told us that he was very healthy and has no health problems when we asked about what health concerns affect men in the community.

We bid our young friend/interpreter goodbye and started down the mountain taking in the sites and pickin up an interview or two on the way. As we went down, it realized how incredibly high we were. When we headed the slope below the soccer field, we had to stop for a pack of llamas and alpacas heading up the hill at us. Gorgeous.  We made it down and met up with leticia and headed back to town, to compile the data we collected, but the incredible day and intimate look into the lives of the people in Huilloc stuck with me.

Medical Campaign

Last Thursday through Saturday I was able to tag along on a medical brigade with the NGO I'm working with, which took me into the super isolated communities in this mountains. It took 3 hours by Combi (van turned into a little bus) to get to some of these places that are towns of no more than 70 to 100 people. They mostly speak Quechua - very few people speak Spanish.  They have no way to get anywhere besides walking (which they will, for endless hours to get to town), live off of what they grow themselves (which is primarily potatoes), and have virtually no access to health care of any kind. They are beautiful people and live in the gorgeous puna (dry high hills).  These communities are at 13,000 feet or higher. We would set up our make shift clinic in the school and my job was mostly to take social histories and chief complaint information. It was incredible to hear these people’s stories. Most of the ailments were backaches from hard labor either working in the fields or as porters on the inca trail (the trail tourists can hike fro three days to get up to Macchu Picchu), dental pain, headaches, and “la gripe” – which is anything from a head cold to the flu. In one community we saw quite a bit of alcohol use on the part of the men, and unfortunately that seemed to coinced with a lot of domestic violence.  One woman was even suffering from epilepsy, which may have been related to many things – being beaten by her drunk husband, syphilis, cycsticercosis, something related to her drastically low blood pressure – but she had no money to go into town to get a full work up, so there wasn’t really much we could do for her.

But it wasn’t all sad. I took a break when we were in a community called Kelccanka to play soccer with some little boys, but I tried for all of 5 minutes and thought my lungs were going to explode. Damn altitude. Another time, we pulled our two combis over on the side of the road to serve some people working in the fields that couldn’t make it down to the school. The people generously offered us Watia – potatoes cooked in the ground with hot stones – which is their only source of income. It was incredibly generous of them to offer the only thing they had as a thank you for our services. Not to mention how awesome it was to set up a clinic out of two Combis on the side of a mountain.  

The campaign was a great introduction to the way the way of life in the Sacred Valley, but also a bit heart breaking. We just kept uncovering more and more problems that need solutions much bigger than I could ever solve and need a lot more buy in from the government, whose support is virtually absent in these communities. Coincidentally I’m reading “Healing of America” which is an exploration of different health systems around the world and how they came to be. It makes me think not only about what would be required to get health care coverage and services to the people out in small communities like Yanamayo compared to what it would take for the United States to finally change to a health care system that also cared for those who don't have access to health care. 

Yanamayo

Yanamayo

Little girls in Yanamayo

The Puna on our way to Kelccanka

Watia in Kelccanka

Kelccanka