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The Ucayali section of the Amazon,
somewhere between Pucallpa and Iquitos
I once visited Istanbul, reaching it by ship, and realized that was by far the best way to enter the city. One slowly floats past the bustling city, with exotic minarets poking up from the skyline, and then disembarks in the manner travelers had for centuries. The city of Iquitos is accessible by only plane or boat, and so the same romantic notion overtook me. What better way to enter this one time rubber boom town carved out of the jungle than by boat down the Amazon? You can’t understand this city without experiencing the river, I figured, so I flew to Pucallpa, and found my way onto a lanca, a passenger and cargo boat heading down the Ucayali section of the Amazon River to Iquitos.
I then spent the next four days on the equivalent of a Peruvian Greyhound bus, albeit in boat form, with hammocks instead of seats (bring your own), a hundred passengers in one big open deck, 2 trucks, 3 moto-taxis, 1000 kilos of salt, several thousand bananas, a few hundred eggs (hey guess what, you really don’t need to refrigerate them!), 8 pigs (they don’t actually squeal, they cry in a manner disturbingly similar to a very loud toddler), 2 cows, and a crate of chickens. I also discovered, to my shock and disgust, that while the civilized world is trying to save the Amazon, the Peruvian boat passengers are using it as their garbage can, throwing their empty 2 liter Inca Kola bottles right into the water. One Peruvian man decided that the boat ride was a good time to consolidate his cd collection, so after he emptied the plastic cases, he frisbee’d them, one by one, into the river. Luckily, after about a dozen, a couple kids begged him to give the cases to them rather than to the river dolphins. I think they were more entrepreneurs than environmentalists, but hey, same result.
Early into the first day, we were cruising along and hit bottom. Sudden dead stop! One of the moto-taxis on the top deck went sliding 15 feet across the deck towards me. Then there was the night we got stuck for 2 hours in the pitch dark. The procedure for that is to gun the engines for 2 straight hours as you turn the wheel back and forth and shine the spotlight around on the shore – i dunno, maybe looking for a crocodile who can help.
I did discover the greatest Peruvian invention since the potato: bathrooms that are also showers. That way they are always clean! And then finally, after 4 full days of a 3 day trip, we reached Iquitos. Everyone just stood on the front deck staring. Maybe out of habit, maybe out of shock. Maybe they had all died, in place, out of boredom. There was no mad rush for dry land as I expected. I thought, hmm, is this just a cargo port and we get off somewhere else? But no, it was over! And I lost another 15 minutes of my life until I figured this out.
At some point, I think it was towards the early afternoon of day three, I discovered I’d had enough of Peru and decided to return to the US. I spent a few days somewhat enjoying the frantic energy of Iquitos, and am now back in Lima for a long week before flying home.
I haven’t written an update on Clara for awhile, so there is a lot to catch up on!
As previously discussed, my friend Nienke put me in touch with an American special needs teacher here, Celeste, who then arranged for a young deaf Peruvian women, Karen, to work with Clara. Finally everyone’s schedules coodinated, and they came to Yanapay to visit. Clara soon figured out that we were discussing her, and she refused to join us, acting unusually shy and hesitant. Nevertheless, Celeste explained everything to Yuri, and acted as a multi-communication translator, signing to Karen and telling me in English. Yuri was thrilled with the idea, as was Karen’s mom, whose support was also important for this to work. I was beaming with happiness, as it seemed Clara was finally going to get consistent help. In the process, I obtained my name in sign – a “d” next to my glasses. Finally Clara was forced down to join us, the idea was explained to her as best as possible, and she agreed to work with Karen.
On the first day of class, Karen and I sat down with Clara, and Clara already didn’t seem very happy. She kicked me under the table in protest, but we carried on with the lesson. Karen went through the alphabet in sign, and then seeing that she hadn’t brought any materials, I pulled out my flashcards. She went through each of those, with Clara learning the signs. She then quizzed Clara, and she remembered nearly all of them. Not knowing what to do next, I ran to the storeroom to get some drawing materials. However, when I returned, Clara had run off, and I had no success in coaxing her back. “Poco a poco” I told Karen, little by little.
The following day, Clara wouldn’t even sit down with us to start the lesson. We tried and tried to persuade her to join us, but no luck. Eventually, however, as Karen and I stood around not knowing what to do, Clara invited Karen up to the games room. Great! Clara is warming up to her teacher! I thought. Karen was hesitant, but luckily she went up and joined Clara. I left them alone, with the hope that Karen would turn it into a learning opportunity. After about 10 minutes, they came down and went into the art room. I tried to spy a bit, but mostly gave them their space. They weren’t really working with each other, but working next to each other was a start.
By the following day, Clara would no longer greet me. I assume it was because I was making her work, and perhaps because she comes to Yanapayto play, to have fun, and to be with other kids. It is entirely possible that she is in her house all day, as she no longer attends school. She wouldn’t sit down to work with Karen, and I began to think it all might fall apart. I was away from Yanapay for a few days, and was afraid the lessons be over when I returned.
Although Clara still wouldn’t greet me when I returned, she was proudly sounding out, “I am Clara!” One of the volunteers had somehow taught her that. She was also showing that she could sign her name. I joyfully discovered that Karen had brought 2 of her friends, and they all worked with Clara that day. It turns out, in my absence, the teachers at Yanapay had explained to Clara that if she wants to continue to come to Yanapay, she has to work with Karen. I was extremely curious what they were all doing in the classroom, but I left them alone, and they worked for well over an hour.
A few weeks later, Karen started a job, but she had started to go to Clara’s house on Sundays for the lessons, which are hopefully continuing. Last week, again after an absence when I went to Puno and Bolivia, I returned and saw Clara signing with Yuri. It was not longer gestures and pantomimes, but real signing, which she seemed to be doing it with new found confidence and perhaps even a slight bit more maturity than I had seen before!
Please view additional Yanapay photo essay at www.dojoklo.com
OK, so I’ve been very forgetful. I forgot to do a special post for Tracie and for Aunt Vickie and Grandma on their donation days. I will have to make that up to you… BUT, today is Gail Zimmer’s donation day and birthday! Her donation was for a doll related art project with the kids. Since I was supposed to be in the jungle now working in Pilcopata, I was going to do that at this time. However, since that gig fell through, I am carrying my art materials deep into the jungle to Iquitos next week. When I hook up with a volunteer organization, hopefully in a secluded indigenous community, I will attempt to do that project. In the mean time, here are some pictures from an outing with the Aldea Yanapay kids. We hiked just outside of Cusco, and explored a creek and some woods for the afternoon. The kids loved playing in the water, and many left quite wet, along with a couple unlucky volunteers.
Heading out
Yuri helping a little one across
Jenni in the water
Marylin
Clara getting ready to cause trouble!
“Mira Profe!” The little ones were amazed by the wonders of nature
Diana playing in the mud
Maria calm and composed as always
Yuri and the kids
Ascending the trecherous hill
Returning from collecting leaves and seeds for future art projects
Descending the trecherous hill
Heading home
**Sorry, the links to the photos got messed up. Please view photos at www.dojoklo.com
As the bus from Puno approached Juliaca, I turned to the campesina woman next to me and asked how I could continue on to the Festival de Tinajani. Her face lit up and she told me, “Nosotros vamos a Tinajani tambien!” – “We´re going to Tinajani also!” I asked how we proceed there from Juliaca, and she explained rapidly, so I figured it was best just to follow her. She was with a group of 3 other adults and 2 children, and after we unloaded their buckets of what I assumed was soup to sell at the festival, we attempted to find a taxi. Ten minutes passed without luck, only bicycle taxis came by, and so I tried again to ask her where I go to get to the next city near the festival. She convinced me to wait, and finally we got a taxi, loaded the buckets, and all piled in. Deposited at a large plaza and market area, we happily discovered there were direct buses to the festival, and wouldn´t have to go to Ayaviri first. I asked the oldest woman how much my share of the taxi was. “Dos Soles” she quickly replied. Based on my knowledge of transportation prices, my experience with Peruvians, and the smug expression on her face, I assume I paid for the entire family…and their soup, which I had helped to load and unload.
We all sat on the bus for several minutes, and the passengers started to get antsy. “Vamos!” they all began to yell. We moved a bit, stopped some more, moved a bit. People started to get off to try their luck with another bus. The young woman sitting next to me had been attaching yarn braid extensions into her hair, and so I assumed she was a dancer headed to the festival. As soon as she got up, I knew it was best to follow her. We got on the next bus, which filled up when a man butted right in front of us (an everyday experience in most any line in this country), and unfortunately we had to stand for the ride. An hour and a half later, we turned off right before Ayaviri, onto a dirt road heading into the altiplano, the high plains between the two spines of the Andes. As we followed buses and cattle trucks loaded to capacity with festival-goers, a continuous series of buses and combis, now empty, passed us on their way out. The festival was nowhere in sight, just desolate, dry grasslands, fields, and pastures with cows, sheep, and llamas. After twenty minutes, the dramatic rocks which I had seen in pictures came into view, then the parking lot loaded with hundreds of buses, then the crowds, covering the hillsides. Emerging from the bus, I didn´t know where to turn. There was color and activity in every direction, so overwhelming I didn´t know where to start. I didn´t want to miss any photo opportunity, but I just had to begin. Right next to me was a field with some dance groups practicing. After a few minutes there, I weaved through the vehicles, and merged with the crowd crossing a precarious plywood bridge to the site. I moved through the rows of food vendors and people eating lunch, chicharones on grills sputtering grease at every turn. At the dance site, I tried to determine how to best sneak my way in, but each corner was filled with crowds and police. I circumnavigated the entire area, since I saw other photographers on the far side. I waved my camera in front of a guard and he let me pass.
Since I had no idea how I was going to return to Puno, how difficult it might be, and how long it might take, I knew I couldn´t stay long. So I alternated between taking photos, filming videos, wiping the dust off my camera, and blowing it off my lens. Group after group of dancers performed, each with their own band of musicians and singers. The announcer´s voice boomed through the PA system constantly, even over the music and voices of the singers, “TINAJANI RAYMI!” “La Provincia de MELGAR!” The crowds continued to grow on the rocks and hillsides surrounding the site. At 1:30 I forced myself away, knowing I had to be on my way out of there by 2:00. But on the hillside there was so much more activity: kids flying kites, groups of dancers waiting, carnival games and foosball tables. I made my way back through the food area, to the parking lot, and once again found myself in the practice field. A group of women danced in a circle, surrounded by men parading huge red and white banners. Another amazing photo opportunity! I snapped as fast as I could, and then delved back into the parking area looking for the combis heading back to Ayaviri.
I got the last seat on one just about to head out, and encountered a small group of Spaniards, the other other tourists I saw the whole day. We spent the ride amused by the smiles and laughter of an adorable little girl, just as entertaining as the festival we just came from.
I just got off the bus – dancers practicing in a field
The crowd, visible from the parking lot
One of the market and lunch streets
So much overwhelming color, activity, and so many people, I didn´t know where to start!
I got my way into the photographers’ row, right at the side of the dance area
Skirt-twirling action!
Dust, dust and more dust – not so good for the camera and the sensor. Luckily I had my little blower with me.
This dance involved sweeping the dirt right onto me!
Danza Tondero de Piura, surprising to see so far south
Awaiting their turn to dance
transportation costs:
Moto-taxi from hostal to Terminal Terestre Puno – s/. 1.50 - 7 min
Bus from Puno to Juliaca - s/. 2 – 1.5 hr
Taxi with family and food to Plaza – s/. 2 – 5 min
Bus directo from Juliaca to Tinajani – s/. 5 – 2 hr
total: s/. 10.50 – 4 hours
return trip:
Combi Tinajani to Ayaviri plaza - s/. 1.50 – 25 min
Bike taxi to Ayaviri Terminal – s/. 1 – 5 min
Bus from Ayaviri to Juliaca – s/. 3.50 – 1.5 hr
Bike Taxi to paradero – s/. 2 – the slowest 10 minutes of my life, as every other bike taxi passed us
Bus from Juliaca to Puno – s/. 2.50 – 1.5 hr
total: s/. 10.50 again! – 4 hours
As always, many, many more photos here on Flickr
