Lake Titicaca (We can't say it with a straight face either)

Disclaimer: As I sit here in Puno writing this post, one of Peru's at least once-weekly parades is occurring outside. One thing Jeff and I have learned during our time in this country is that Peruvians love a parade - the louder, the better. So, as irreparable damage is being done to my hearing, I will try my best to concentrate and get this post done.

Left: The ridiculous parade going on outside right now

On Thursday we arrived in Puno for the last of our major destinations in Peru. Over the last two months (can't believe we've been here that long!) we have seen and done many amazing things in this country, but we have especially been looking forward to Lake Titicaca. Situated on the border between Peru and Bolivia at 3,812m above sea level, Lake Titicaca is the highest navigable lake in the world. Neither Jeff nor I are entirely sure what they mean by "navigable", but I take it to mean that one could possibly get lost while sailing on it. With a max length of 190km and a max width of 80km, this is one big lake.

Most people come to Lake Titicaca to visit the islands with tour groups, possibly staying overnight with a local family. We had read, however, that many of the tour groups do not give the families a fair share of the money and that it is best to DIY if possible. So, on Friday morning Jeff and I set out for the docks to try and find a boat to take us to the islands. We weren't entirely sure how easy it would be to find a boat, or if we would be able to find one at all, but as we always tell ourselves: "it's all part of the experience."  As we climbed out of our mototaxi, we quickly found that finding a boat would not be a problem, as we were swarmed by people attempting to sell us tickets across the water.

After a little haggling, we found ourselves on a boat with eight other tourists and many locals attempting to make their way back to the islands. Our first stop on the lake was about a half hour away at one of the 42 Uros Islands (also known as the Floating Islands), a group of artificial islands originally made for defensive purposes. When we got to the island, one of the local women gave a really interesting demonstration on how they make the islands using totora reeds, which grow around the lake. The dense root systems, about one to two meters thick, are used to make a permanent base, which is then covered by reeds (see picture). These reeds are also used to make all the structures on the islands as well as their boats. Every 15 days they have to add more reeds to the island floor, and every year they have to completely replace their houses. As one can imagine, fire is a major concern, so all cooking takes place outside the houses on rocks, which act as a barrier between the fire and the highly-flammable reeds.

Island-building demonstration

After the demonstration, families took small groups to see their homes. Jeff and I were invited to the house of the woman who had given the demonstration. Inside the very cramped house, which reminded me more of a child's play fort, there was just enough room for two beds with maybe four square feet of free space. I also noticed, strangely enough, that there was also a small television. I asked the lady how they were able to have power out on the lake, which she explained was made possible by solar panels that had been introduced to the islands by ex-President Fujimori in the 1990's. She spoke glowingly about Fujimori, whom she said was the only Peruvian president to ever do anything for the Uros. I guess her television doesn't get the news channel, or else she might have known that Fujimori was prosecuted in 2008 for "crimes against humanity".

Obviously, you can't grow plants on islands made of reeds, so the Uros who still live on the islands now make their money mainly through tourism. After kindly inviting us into her home and sitting and talking with us for a little while, the woman got down to business, bringing out the different crafts she makes. Though way more expensive than similarly ubiquitous crafts found on the mainland, we felt obligated to buy a pillow case from her.

After purchasing our pillowcase, we climbed back on the boat for the three hour trip to Amantaní, the island where we would be spending the night with a local family. Yes, you read correctly, three hours. However, if you look at a map of the lake, you would think the islands we visited (Uros, Amantaní and Taquile) were just a stone's throw away from Puno, which speaks to just how huge this lake is. That, and I could probably swim faster than the boats that ferry people around to the islands. 35km in three hours is pretty darn slow. To add to the fun, the boat was really rocky (I was worried we might tip over a couple times). A warning to those who are easily seasick: this is not a trip you would want to take.

With the ceasless rain, there was not much to look at during our ride to the island, so I got some reading done while Jeff tried in vain to take a nap. When we finally arrived at the island we were met by the local families, many of whom make a majority of their money by hosting tourists. The captain of the boat, a local man who actually lived in the house where we ended up staying, set up the homestays for us. We were escorted to the house by our hostess and found two of our other boat companions were staying on the floor above us, which was occupied by our hostess's daughter and her family.

After being shown to our room, our hostess's five-year-old grandaughter came in and started rummaging through our stuff, asking for her regalo (gift). Both Jeff and I somehow had forgotten to bring a gift. I apologized to the cute little girl, saying that we had forgotten, to which she kindly responded that plata (money) would be fine too. (For those wondering, yes, we were already paying to stay at this place.) I was finally able to pull out a lollipop, which seemed to appease her. I warned her that she needed to ask her mother before she ate it, but she assured me that it wasn't necessary, and proceeded to open the sucker and pop it in her mouth as she skipped out the door to go shake down the other two guests.

By the time we reached the island it was past one in the afternoon and we were starving, so our hostess and her daughter prepared lunch for us. The first course was a quinoa and vegetable soup, commonly served in Peru. Much to Jeff's chagrin, the second course was fried trout with potatoes. All the bones made eating the trout interesting, but even Jeff was able to get through most of his food. We expected that to be all, but once we were done, the mother and daughter came in with bowls, which I assumed would be some sort of dessert. Dessert it was not. When they placed the bowls down I saw before me a small (whole) fish floating in a broth with two little balls of something floating beside it, which we were told were some sort of potato. As the women left the room, we all hesitantly tried the soup. It was disgusting. It tasted like pure fish oil. I tried a bit of the potato to see if that might make it more palatable and it just tasted like dirt with fish oil. I stabbed at my fish a bit, and guts, and what I think may have been eggs, came pouring out. I knew there was no way I was going to be able to finish the soup. So I did what most people do when they don't want to finish their meals and stabbed at the fish and potatoes a bit to make it look as though I had eaten it. Our other companions did similarly. Impressively, Jeff swallowed down a good bit of his broth, though I thought at a couple of points that he might throw up.

Admit it, you wouldn't eat this either

After the meal, the two grandsons of our hostess came in and played their panflutes for us as their five-year-old sister danced. After playing about three too many songs, the older one took off his hat and asked for a tip. Not quite knowing what to do, we gave him what little change we had.

Our own private performance

Though it had rained all morning, we got very lucky as by the time we were done with our lunches the skies had cleared up so that we were able to hike around the island. As we were leaving, our hostess came running out with a bundle full of hats she had made (another way they earn money). She warned us that it was very cold at the top of the hill and we would need one. Still feeling guilty about not finishing our soup, Siobhan (the other female guest) and I took hats. "I think you just bought yourself a hat," Jeff smirked as we started off on our walk.

The four of us spent the afternoon breathlessly hiking up to the two major peaks on the island, Pachatata (Father Earth) and Pachamama (Mother Earth). Appropriately, Pachamama is bigger than Pachatata. As you can see from the pictures, we got really lucky with the weather. We could not have asked for a more beautiful day. I had a very hard time deciding which pictures to post.

I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful sky

We arrived back home around six, which ended up giving us a little over an hour to wait in fear of what our dinner would be. Luckily, dinner consisted of soup and saltado (stir fried onions and fried potatoes) with rice. After dinner, one of the family's two little kittens came in and started attacking the back of Jeff's chair. Though the kitten was in a feisty mood, I picked it up and started petting it. The kitten quickly fell asleep in my arms where it stayed for the next hour as we talked and played with the grandaughter, who had been hamming it up all day for us. Jeff and Olivier (the other male tourist with us) were very sweet to her, letting her tug on their beards, though they agreed she could get quite annoying. The kitten's insistence on staying put curled up in my arms despite all the activity going on around her, was a great source of amusement to us all. That, along with how the grandaughter terrorized it, prompted Olivier to jokingly ask our hostess if she would sell the kitten to us, to which she too eagerly responded that we could have it for ten soles ($3). Everything, we seem to be finding, is for sale here.

After talking for some time, we all agreed we were tired and it was time to go to sleep. The lack of running water prevented me from being able to clean my face (they bath using buckets of freezing water), so I just went straight to the bed and curled up under the five blankets provided for us with all my clothes on (including my gloves) because I was too cold to do anything else. As I laid in bed I prayed to God that I would not have to go to the bathroom during the night because the thought of going out into the cold in the really stinky outhouse was possibly the scariest thought in the world at that moment.

The next morning (after being kept up most of the night by a crying baby), we woke up around seven. We happily found our hostess had made us a breakfast of a fried egg in toast. After eating, we hugged all the family members goodbye and were escorted back down to the docks.

Taquile, the smaller, though more touristy island, was just under an hour away. We docked and then hiked about half an hour to the small town center. Jeff and I then spent the next hour and a half just wandering around the beautiful island. We decided that since we would not be getting back to Puno until three, we wanted to grab some lunch before leaving, so we headed back to the town center, where we ran into the boat captain who was taking six of the other boat passengers to lunch. We followed them to the restaurant where poor Jeff was forced to eat trout, again. After lunch, it was time to head back to the docks, so we followed the captain, but were very surprised when he turned in the opposite direction of the dock where we had landed. As we walked, Jeff and I kept wondering how we had missed that we were supposed to meet up at a different dock and thanking our lucky stars that we had run into the group because we would have walked the half hour to the wrong dock on the other side of the island otherwise. Unfortunately, three of our companions were not so lucky and as we waited for them on the boat it quickly became clear that they had probably gone to the wrong dock. After waiting for almost an hour, our captain decided we would take the boat over to the other dock to get the missing passengers. About five minutes into our trip we passed a boat that was ferrying the three lost passengers to meet us. Definitely lucky that they were spotted, or else we would have ended up at different ports yet again. What a mess!

The weather for our ride back to Puno was absolutely gorgeous, so Jeff and I spent a while on top of the boat enjoying the beautiful weather and views. Jeff and I both agree that was one of our favorite parts of our wonderful Lake Titicaca trip.

Relaxing, enjoying the ride back