Llac Titi”jaja” / Lake Titi”haha”

Finalment varem visitar Puno i el famós llac Titicaca… del Cusco varem agafar el tren i en 10 horetes erem a Puno. Nit en un hostal de motxillers on les noies varen parlar amb uns nois Californians que havien vist al tren, i que com que viuen a Santiago, esperem tornar a veure aviat… i sortida ben aviat cap a algunes illes del Titicaca. Haviem agafat un “tour” del llac amb estada a Amantaní amb una familia local, per poder conèixer com viuen i amb guia inclòs. En cada explicació, el guia insistia, potser per tractar-se d’un grup mixte anglo hispànic, en anomenar el llac: Titijaja – enlloc de pel seu nom comú de Titicaca… Malgrat que la visita va començar de forma molt turística, amb parada en una illa flotant dels Uros, i seguidament en una altra on fins hi havia un cibercafè i tot – malgrat que ens estaven venent el lloc com el darrer paradís i els seus primitius habitants- l’arribada i estada a Amantaní va resultar molt més interessant: tornavem a compartir casa de fang i menjar amb gent del lloc. Al vespre ens varen deixar els seus vestits de gala tradicionals i vam anar a ballar junts… un “xou” muntat pels turistes, però on pots disfrutar de la companyia dels teus hostes i ballar a més de 4 mil metres sobre el nivell del mar, cosa força cansada quan cada cançó dura almenys 10 minuts! Pel matí visita a Taquile, una altra illa amb tradicions diferents i tornada a Puno en barca. Una barca amb motor de cotxe, que malhauradament va voler deixar de funcionar al bell mig del llac, amb vents creuats i onades que semblaven gegants; sobretot quan la cara del capità va canviar a un to molt més clar i va abandonar el timó per anar a arreglar el motor… Després del que va semblar una bona estona amb corregudes amunt i avall, llançar l’ancora per no anar a la deriva, i deixar-me a mi al timó intentant evitar que les onades ens embestissin pel costat – amb el risc d’omplir-nos d’aigua i acabar nedant en un llac força fred, una altra barca va arribar i després de molts esforços varen lligar un parell de cordes per remolcar-nos! Les cordes es varen trencar i les van tornar a lligar; ja fora de la zona de vents ens varen tornar a deixar sols; més tard dues barques més varen venir i ens varen remolcar una altra estona, una a cada costat durant una altra estona; finalment una quarta barca va arribar i després de lligar-la al nostre costat, varen fer passar tot el passatge a la nova barca per segui remolcant-nos, les cordes es varen tornar a trencar i a lligar de nou… finalment varem abandonar la nostra barca amb el seu capità proa del port i varem arribar a terra… Adéu al llac Titi”ja,ja?”

We finally visited Puno and the famous Lake Titicaca. From Cuzco we travelled by train for ten hours. Once in Puno we found our backpackers hostel, where the girls chatted to some Californian blokes – who had been on the train- who incidentally live in Santiago, so we may see them again… Early morning we sailed to some of the lake’s islands. We had “contracted” one of the lake’s tours which includes a stay with islanders at Amantani, so we could see how the inhabitants lived and share mutual experiences. The tour included a guide who insisted in calling the lake Titi”haha”, perhaps because he was mixing Spanish and English, trying to satisfy the mixed group needs… Despite a very touristic and disappointing start to the tour, visiting the too commercialized for our taste Uros islands - where one could even find an internet café-, once we reached Amantani everything started to be more interesting. We were sharing a mud hut again and eating with our hosts. That evening they provided us with local gala robes and invited us to join in traditional dances in the local hall. Obviously this was organised for the tourists, but spending that evening with our hosts was a nice experience and we all enjoyed it, although dancing 10 minute long songs at more than 4000 metres leaves you exhausted! Early morning we left Amantani to go to Taquile, another island with very different traditions, and were to return to Puno after lunch. The journey was in an old boat with a car engine installed, which decided to stop working when we where in the middle of the lake, enduring strong winds and waves that seemed enormous at the time, specially when the captain left the “wheel” to try to repair the engine… After what seemed like a very long time and many journeys across the boat, having dropped the anchor to stop us reaching the rocky coast, and leaving me trying to steer the boat, so the waves didn’t make us capsize into the freezing water, another boat arrived to our rescue… after what seemed like a struggle, the two boats continued together, not without many incidents, like the ropes breaking in the process… Once we were in a safe area, we were left alone again until another two boats continued the towing job… we only reached Puno after a 4th boat did the final stretch with us and all the passengers had been transfered to that last boat… Good bye Lake Titi”ha,ha?”

Cuba finally / Finalment Cuba

Vaig deixar passar uns dies per escriure sobre Cuba; primer perque encara hi havia els Morell allà i també per digerir un xic l'experiència. Ara ja fa dies que hi penso i vull explicar què em va semblar l'illa i la nostra visita.

Arribar a l'Havana va ser molt agradable, el taxi ens va portar fent un passeig cap a la casa particular on ens haviem d'allotjar, ens anava explicant què era cada fàbrica i com de bé anaven les coses amb en Fidel, ja fa més de 40 anys. Al arribar a la casa ens va cobrar tres vegades el que marcava el taximetre i quan li varem preguntar com era, va fer un silenci total. No hi havia discussió!
La casa on varem estar les primeres dues nits pertanyia a una familia d'origen Gallec que eren molt adeptes al règim. Un fins havia estat part del consell d'estat en algun moment. Varem tenir una llarga xerrada de política mundial i finalment, ja ben tard, vaig aconseguir parlar de política Cubana. Tot era una meravella, i els EEUU un dimòni mentider, sengons ells la història no és exactament com l'entenem els europeus, fins a un punt un xic surrealista.

Ja fora de la ciutat, visitant parts més o menys turístiques, sovint et semblava que eres una font d'ingressos i prou... els preus anaven creixent a mida que passava l'estona, qui era amable acabava demanant més diners dels acordats o sugerits en primer lloc; de sobte les normes per a les cases particulars canviaven i ens calia agafar una habitació extra per les noies, ja que ens deien a partir dels 15 anys es consideraven com adults i no es podia compartir cambra... Ens insistien en menjar a les cases però el que ens donaven era de molt poca qualitat i sempre el mateix: quants cops es pot menjar pollastre sec en pocs dies? De sobte et trobaves recollint un autoestopista (jinetero) a 80 km de la propera ciutat i sense saber com, acavaba portant-te a casa d'una sogra que no ho era, que ni el coneixia, i et llogava una habitació que no tenia res a veure amb la descripció que t'havia fet. Quan demanaves explicacions o questionaves alguna cosa, tornava el silenci que saben fer els Cubans. Mutis, cap resposta o com a molt canvi de tema. Mai s'embrancaven en una discussió.
Ens va semblar que volent sortir de les rutes "normals" es fa molt difícil viatjar, i que quan et penses que ho has aconseguit, un altre cop, t'estant fent servir, d'una manera o altra.
Els serveis i les infraestructures son molt bàsics si no estan deixats dels tot, però els Cubans - els que parlen- ho defensen i en donen la culpa a l'embargament. Sorpren que els més abandonats, son els que més ho defensen tot... Una vegada una noia que vivia sense electricitat i havia de traslladar-se més d'una hora sense transport públic, deia que tot anava bé... encara que potser desconeixia que a l'Havana i a les altres ciutats si n'hi havia d'electricitat i de transport públic, enacara que basic.

El país és molt interessant, però decepciona que tothom hi visqui a base d'"arreglos" i que han creat una societat de classes més extrema que en molts països capitalistes.
Els militars tenen més drets que ningú i condueixen cotxes en condicions, mentre que l'altra gent ha d'esperar una guagua que els portarà amuntegats a treballar, si es que tenen feina. Els que tenere "remesa" de familiars a Florida o en altres parts del món, poden comprar en CUCs i viure com a classe mitjana, i els que no tenen a ningú han de "buscar-se la vida" com poden.
Hi ha joves que no formen families perquè no volen que els seus fills visquin això, i com que no poden marxar es deprimeixen esperant una oportunitat d'escapar; encara que saben que no és la solució i que el que realment voldrien és un canvi per quedarse a la seva illa.

De tornada a l'Havana, abans de marxar, varem acabar en una casa particular d'una familia que havia estat rica però ara no ho era; els guardava la casa un noi i varem passar una nit desperts en una casa gegant, fantasmagòrica, amb matalassos de més de 40 anys i sense roba de llit, preocupats per si venia una inspecció ja que no havien fet els papers -i per tant era un lloguer il.legal-, o per si entrava algú altre. Pel matí varem marxar, deixant una propina però no pagant per la nit, ja que no era raonable... varem buscar un altre habitació per la darrera nit i varem trobar-ne a casa una dona extraordinària, un xic gran, que havia estat part de la revolució. Vivia aturada en el temps, parlant dels camarades com si fossin els anys 60 i de com ballaven amb les botes posades. Ens va acollir molt bé, varem conversar molt i fins ens va fer algun obsèqui i tot. Aquella nit varem dormir molt bé, encara que com que l'avió marxava aviat, a les 4 del matí ja preniem un cafè de despedida.

Per cert, la darrera nit varem anar al Copelia, la famosa geladeria simbol dels resultats de la revolució, creada als anys 60, , on els cubans encara fan llargues cues per menjar els seus gelats, encara per nosaltres, com a estrangers, no n'hi havia de cues. Varem disfrutar d'una plata de gelat per persona, entre molts cubans que també en menjaven; això si, aquell dia, tocava xocolata, i tots haviem de menjar el que tocava: cinc boles de gelat de xocolata per plata, centenars de persones menjant a la vegada plates amb cinc boles de gelat de xocolata!

I’ve waited some time to write about Cuba, firstly because the Morells were still there and secondly because I needed to digest the experience. I’ve been thinking about it for days and would like to explain what I thought about the island and our visit.
Our arrival in Havana was most pleasant. A taxi took us to the private house we were staying in and as we drove there the driver pointed out every factory and told us how well things were going after 40 years of Fidel.
When we arrived at the house, he charged us three times the amount on the meter and when we asked why, our question was met with silence. The house we stayed in for the first two nights was owned by a family of Galician origin who were very supportive of the system. One of them had been part of the ruling party at one time. I had a long chat with him about world politics and eventually, by this time it was late, about Cuban politics. According to him, everything is marvellous and the USA is a lying demon and that history is not exactly as Europeans have been led to believe it to be: all a little bit surreal.

Once we’d left the city visiting more or less tourist sights we came to feel we were only walking cash machines … prices rose as we were chatting to people..... friendliness always turned into asking for more money than originally agreed… all of a sudden the rules governing private houses changed as we were told anybody over 15 was considered an adult and so the girls couldn’t share a room with us ..... they insisted on us eating in but the food was always of a very poor quality and always the same .... how often can you eat dry chicken? ....more than once, having picked up a hitch-hiker, sometimes 80km from our destination, the hitcher (jinetero) would take us to a non-existent ‘mother-in-law’s’ house where they would offer very different services to the ones he’s promised e.g. smaller/fewer rooms or no bath. When we asked for an explanation or questioned something, we were met with a silence that all Cubans seemed able to create when necessary. Mute. No reply or they changed the subject, an art they have all mastered. They never engaged in any kind of real debate.
We wanted to avoid the more touristy routes, but travelling that way proved difficult and once we thought we’d mastered it we had a feeling we were being used again in one way or another. Services and infrastructures are really basic, if not totally abandoned. However, the few Cubans who were willing to talk about this claimed things were alright or that it was the fault of the embargo. Surprisingly, those with fewer services and little state support were the most defensive of the system. One of our hitchers, a young woman who lived in the north without electricity and who had to regularly travel for more than one hour without any public transport kept claiming that everything was going well.....unknowingly, perhaps, that Havana and other cities have had electricity for a long time and also a very basic public transport system.

The country is very interesting but it is disappointing that everyone has to live by breaking the rules and that they have created a class society, at times more extreme than in some capitalist countries. The military have more rights and drive better cars than anybody else, meanwhile most people have to wait for a ‘guagua’ (bus) to get to work packed in like sardines, if they’re lucky enough to have a job. Those that receive money from their relatives in Florida or anywhere else, can purchase in CUCs and live a middle-class lifestyle, whilst those without this outside support have to struggle to survive.

There are young people who are not starting families because they do not want their children to live this life, and because they cannot leave the island they get depressed waiting for an opportunity to escape, although they are very aware that that is not the best solution for their country and what they would really like to see is a change so they could have a better life in Cuba.

Before leaving, we returned to Havana and ended up staying in what was once a rich family’s home, now empty and looked after by a young man (guard). We were awake all night in this enormous, seemingly haunted house, lying on at least 40-year-old mattresses without any bedding, worrying if an inspector – this was an illegal stay, as they hadn’t declared it – or anyone else would come in. Early the next day, we left leaving a tip but of course not paying the full rate, as it was totally unacceptable – think Miss Haversham! We looked for another room for our last night and found one in an extraordinary woman’s flat. If only we’d found her on our arrival! Getting on now, she had lived the revolution and was still living in those times. She talked about her comrades, dancing in her combat boots, chatted a lot to us and even gave us a gift. That night we slept really well, although not for long as our plane was leaving very early in the morning, so at 4 in the morning we were having a coffee with her.

By the way, on our last night in Havana, we went to Copelia, the famous ice-cream palour opened in the 60s and a symbol of the revolution’s achievements, where Cubans still queue round the block to enjoy their ice-cream, although, as foreigners, we didn’t have to queue. We enjoyed a large ice-cream ‘ensalada’ along with all the other local customers; this comprised of chocolate ice-cream with chocolate ice-cream – 5 scoops of chocolate ice-cream, the only flavour available. Very nice if you really like chocolate ...

Machu Picchu

Ahir, després de tres dies caminant per les valls de Lares, varem arribar al Machu Picchu! Varem fer una completa visita guiada a les runes i després varem pujar al Picchu Jove per contemplar la ciutat Inca des de sobre... Va ser realment bonic, tant la caminata dels dies anteriors, passant per un coll a 4350 metres, com la visita i la contemplació a vista d'ocell. Demà penjaré una de les fotos, ja que ara la camera s'ha quedat sense bateria i ja és tard... Anar a les runes a les 6 del matí va valer la pena i després disfrutar d'un bany d'aigues termals a la una, abans d'agafar el tren per tornar a Cuzco també va ser una bona idea. Ara ens queden dos dies més al Cuzco abans de marxar cap al llac Titicaca...

Yestreday, after three dyas trecking the Lares Valleys, we arrivesd to Machu Picchu! We enmjoyed a comprehensive guided visit to the site and the climb to the Young Picchu, from we coulsçd see the whole site. It was a great experience. Both, the treck, which included walking above 4350 m, and the view of MP from above. Tomorrow I will add some pictures... as now the camera's batteries are dead. Catching the early bus at 5:30 AM to get to the site was worth the effort, as it was climing to the top of Aguas Calientes on the way back from the site to enjoy an open air hot bath, before catching the train back to Cuzco. Now we have another two days here before we move on. Lake Titicaca is our next stop.

Finalment, el Cuzco, finally

Després d'aterrar a Lima i veure en Miguel a l'aeroport, cami de Barcelona, el seu cosí Oscar ens va guiar per la ciutat. Bé , primer ens va portar a casa seva o ens va oferir un bon suc de fruites i ens va deixar dutxar, després una passejada pel centre i el primer Ceviche autèntic. Al vespre ens va deixar a la parada de busos que van a Huancayo on només va marxar quan va estar ben segur que ningú ens atacaria i que no ens equivocariem de bus. Després de passar la nit en ruta, pujant fins a més de 4800 metres, varem arribar a Huancayo, a 3200 metres. Allà en Fernando, un germà del Miguel, ens esperava i ens va portar fins a casa els seus pares a Chupaca. Un altre esmorzar esplèndid i una dormideta abans d'explorar la zona... paissatges extraordinàris de les muntanyes voltant una vall que recorda una mica la Cerdanya, però molt més amunt. La mica de mal d'alçada la varem passar amb un brandy, aconsellats pels locals. Varem fer nit a l'acollidora casa dels Maraví-Poma i un altre dia de descoberta per la regió. Segon ceviche, aquest cop de truita de riu asalmonada, molt bo, i papas huancainas amb ají, entre altres delicateses. la hospitalitat que hem rebut la descrivien les noies com de reis (o presidents de la república, pel cas). Retorn a Lima en una altre bus nocturn, mal d'orelles per la baixada de nivell i altre cop dutxa i esmorzar a casa l'Oscar...ens havien adoptat!
Vol cap a Cuzco a migdia... això si és pilotar! Passejar un airbus entre les muntanyes andines i fer-lo girar entre els cims per aterrar en la pista més curta que hem trobat mai, entre les cases, ha sigut tota una experiència.
Avui hem visitat el centre d'acollida d'infants de les germanes Echevarria, on volem col.laborar... canalla ben petita, deixada allà, buscant un xic d'amor i algú que els vulgui "engreir" (mimar) com deia la Pilar. Demà tindrem la sort de passar el dia amb una colla d'aquests infants i potser fins pàssejar pel Cuzco amb ells i elles. Serem aquí els propers quinze dies, anant un xic més a poc a poc i disfrutant de la oportunitat que tenim, la gent i el lloc, i omplint el bolg de notes i fotos...

After landing in Lima we saw Miguel at the airport, en route to Barcelona, and his cousin Oscar, who took us back to his apartment for breakfast and showers before showing a little of Lima to us, authentic Ceviche included. That evening he left us at the bus station for Huancayo, once he was sure we would not be robbed or take the wrong bus. We travelled the whole night, reaching 4800 metres in altitude, to arrive in Huancayo, at 3200m early morning and be met by Fernando, Miguel's brother. He took us to Chupaca to his parents home and after another excellent breakfast and a sleep, we started to discover the area: amazing mountain landscapes around a wide valley which reminded us of La Cerdanya, only much higher. We cured any altitude sickness with brandy, following Fernando's advice. We spent the night at the Maraví-Poma's lovely home and continued our discovery of the area the next day. Second Ceviche, this time a trout one, delicious, and Huancayan potatoes (with aji included)were some of the delicacies we tried. We enjoyed great hospitality 'like kings' -said the girls. another night bus jourmey to Lima before another breakfast and shower at Oscar's where we have been treated like family. Midday flight to Cuzco, and what a flight. This was real flying, above the Andes, turning in between the high mountains to land on the shortest runway a large Airbus can land, in the middle of housing ... a skillful pilot!
Today we have visited the orphanage where we want to collaborate the next two weeks, run by the Echevearria sisters, housing very young boys and girls only asking for a bit of love and someone to cuddle them. Tomorrow we hope to be lucky enough to spend the day with some of them and maybe walk together around Cuzco. We will stay here for the next two weeks, slowing down a little and enjoying every bit of this opportunity we have, the people and the place and filling this blog with notes and pictures, we hope.