Utah - Peru 2002 (5)

Well, this is my last full day in Huaraz. I had lofty goals of writing a wonderful overview of this city and its people and then as I sat here reading my messages something hit me... Nausea... I don't know why except that maybe I was a little hasty with the treatment of the last bottle of water I drank this afternoon. I dropped the iodine into the bottle to kill the bad stuff... You're meant to wait 30 minutes before adding anything to it to kill the iodine taste and it's bad effects on your stomach's natural flora... but I added the vitamin C after only 15 minutes cause I was so thirsty... ay ay ay, como me duele.... (Selina) So, I'll stick it out as long as I can. There is a baño behind me but how embarrassing, to puke audibly in the internet cafe with all the Peruanos listening and chuckling about Gringa (again, my name for the month) losing her burrito in the toilet... Maybe if I think hard enough about this message my stomach-brain connection will be disrupted... Enough of all that...

Peru is wonderful and I'll be back. There have been so many things go in through my eyes and land permanently on my brain but the climbing stories have been overshadowing them as of late. For example, the drive up to the Valle Paron where we climbed/camped for a total of 10 days. The ride up starts rough and rocky and doesn't really get better but it does get more spectacular. The lower sections include the views of all the campesinos do for this country - their agriculture. They pull plows through their rocky fields with ropes tied around their bulls'/cows' horns. The cows plod along slowly with amazing precision through the fields which vary in steepness from flat to 45 degrees. The cows and bulls that aren't working get to help the farmers get rid of the old corn stalks that pile up in stacks of dry yellow waste.. though, not waste to the hungry cows, hips sticking out and eyes sleepy.... chewing their cud between bites of old foliage...Along the ride you also notice how much Eucalyptus they have brought into this country. It's definitely a foreign crop to the area. Unfortunately, Eucalyptus trees don't allow for much other growth.. they kill everything in their way. The folks here use them for hearbal saunas and then they use the lumber for building maybe? It seems like a random commoditiy, but a popular one throughout. As we drive up in our private collectivo, the most common scene is that of the local women, sitting in their skirts and hats, surrounded by children and piglets. They are always seemingly occupied with something, but I don't know what... They seem very happy and united. As we drive by the kids get up and run along side the car waving. If we could hear them better I'm sure we would hear that they are screaming 'hola gringos' Their dogs take over the lead and chomp at the rubber on our tires and always get out unscathed somehow. The homes are made of dried clay blocks, like bricks and the roofs are made of a sculpted, scooped out red clay. In the winters, most of the windows, which are just openings in the structure, are filled with blocks to keep out the cold. The floor in all the houses in earth and their is no electricity. They use the bathroom in one of two places, either 1) wherever the hell they want or 2) in these small clay outhouses. The outhouses have a little pipe for ventilation but I bet it does little. Sometimes you spot a pile of human shit in random places like on a big rock on the side of the road or on a lid for some kind of container... Random. The campesinas don't wear underwear, they just pull up their skirt and let it fly, even in the streets of Huaraz (so they say, though I have yet to see this.)

The 27 year old Peruvian that drove us up talked to me a lot about the US and about the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer in Peru. He said there is no middle class, only pobres and the rich, although, I woulnd't consider him to be part of either, so I think there is a class just above the poor but well below the rich. He only makes 10 soles a day which is about $3 US and that just about covers his meals for the day. Clothing, marriage, children, the rest... it's too difficult. He has dreams of coming to the US one day, but it will most likely never happen. It's impossible for him to save with what little he has. I told him that at least the poor outside of Huaraz contribute to the society. Without them, I don't know where anyone would get their veggies, fruits, juice, chickens, sheep, cows. They may be poor as hell, but they don't just give up and beg in the street like our poor chaps in the bigger cities.. and we all know they have opportunities. These people seem mostly happy to be in the fields working with their children and contributing to the market twice a week. But, who am I to say. The life is nothing less than hard for most. They always look so much older than they are as the climate here is rough and carrying loads on their back daily takes its toll.

Yesterday I had an wonderful opportunity to meet with some folks that live outside of Huaraz. I was going to go up to Laguna Churup, a lake nestled among huge rock walls, but alas, I decided to summit Tambosharaju the night before instead and it took everything out of me.... Tambosharaju... All the peaks here end in raju, like I mentioned before.. it means snowy peak in Quechua... well, on the Sphynx, it got so hot at one point that Mandy made this funny- "I didn't know we were climbing Warmisharaju" haha... So, Tambosharaju is my cover up for the Tambo.. a bar! Where I relearned how to move my hips like a sexy Latina until 4 am... oops. It's just that it was so much fun! I went out with Peru, Chile, and Spain and we had a blast! The next day however, waking up at 11am, put a wrench in the plan for La Laguna... so back to my wonderful opportunity. I had a late lunch with an American named Joe (whose brother worked at Black Diamond for a month or two, Alex?) and at lunch he told me the story about how he has been coming to Peru every year for the last 8... A common thing I'm finding out. Huaraz is just the kind of place you can come to over and over. So, he did a climb and met a great porter years ago... Liberato Torres. Well, in the years to come, he and Liberato (a local Huarazino) became climbing partners. They summitted several peaks together, including Alpamayo... Well, last summer, one week after Joe left Huaraz, he got an e-mail from Liberato's wife saying that he had just died climbing Artesanraju. He was climbing with a Japanese guy... they had summitted and were rappelling off the face... The japanese climber rapped first off one snow picket and it held... then when Liberato went, it pulled. He fell the length of the face and was pretty well in pieces when they finally found his body 5 days later... but fortunately, the rope had wrapped around him and kept his body in tact. So, anyway, he left behind his wife with three boys and one daughter. Joe has kept in touch with the family and his family in Sandy, Utah sends them money via Western Union from time to time to help. Yesterday, Joe was going to visit the family and asked if I would like to go! Of course!We took a 30 minute collective ride from Huaraz up to the little village of Llupa and walked through a field, past two sheep, two cows, a pig and one burro and then climbed a stone wall and hopped a little creek and arrived at the clay home of Martina and her children. She was wearing a slightly torn skirt and her bowler hat with a white blouse. The children giggled and hid around corners while Joe introduced me, then I handed them a big bag of candies that I brought up for them. They came running saying thank you in Castellano and Quechua. The next hour was spent talking to Martina, her brother Graciano and his wife Juana about the accident, life after the accident and just life in general. On this Friday, the 9th of August, a large group are going up to the base camp of Aretesanraju to leave a plaque in honor of Liberato. I took several photos of them family with the plaque and they were delighted. Before I could even take a photo, both of the older women went into the back room and changed into their good velvet skirts with white lace embroidery. Martina has a hat hanging on a wall in her 'living room'. Joe explained that this hat was her married woman hat and now she wears her widow hat. The difference is a white band around the base of the hat. Their house is very modest. There is one open roofed room with a concrete floor where Graciano was prepping camp stoves for their trip up the mountain. In this area there were two kittens and three chicks and one adult chicken, pecking around and trying to eat a bolt from the stove. The kitchen has an earth floor and no light. The roof is low and decorated with massive stacks of hanging corn. They were cooking up some mystery meal for us which we regrettably had to decline with the utmost sensitivity... We would surely have become sick and at the least, I would have been obligated to eat guinnea pig or lamb or something (meat for the first time in 11 years)... but they understood when I explained that I had dinner making plans with some Spanish folks who were leaving the next day... not a lie. I got some photos taken of me and Joe with the kids. One of Martina's neices, Anita, stood close to me. I squatted down next to her and put my arm around her waist and she laid her head on my shoulder... oh, my heart almost broke! I love those kids! I took their address at the general delivery and promised to send them copies of all the photos... and I'm sure I'll send much more too.... books, etc.. maybe some clothes... Martina was such a great host.. she made me promise to come back next year and bring friends. One hour and I fell so in love with them!Joe told me later that she has changed a lot over this last year. He said she used to resent gringos and even the more Spanish influenced peruvians... they are pobres, campesinos, Quechuanos... but now, she welcomes us in, lets us take photos (a rarity) and invites us back for more. It probably has much to do with the fact that when Liberato died, it was a bunch of his gringo clients that sent money and best wishes to Martina. Zarela thinks monetary support creates a crutch for the family... and maybe so, but until her boys are older (the oldest being 8 now) she really has few options. She isn't skilled to anything and her husband's work as a porter kept them going for so long.

On the way down from their house we passed a cemetary... I took photos. I love cemetaries for their history and variety. I think I'll do a coffee table book on cemetaries some day.. I have them from Ireland to Italy, Nevada to Peru... We also passed a couple of young kids herding four cows and five burros up the rocky road.. After they passed I was going to steal a picture but as I turned around with my camera, so did the young girl with her index finger shaking rapidly below a disapproving frown.. I said sorry and moved on. Some of them still hate the whole photo thing and I know that was more than shyness.. that was.. "Don't violate me!"Last night I, Zarela, Daniel, Christina and Fernando (all peruvians) and the token Spaniard, Kepa, cooked up some fine potato tortillas and lasagna and had a wonderful late night feast with red wine. Poor Mandy was racked with a flu which has been killing her motivation and her mood lately.. She went to bed early and shyed away from all the Spanish speakers in the kitchen. After dinner, we almost went to bed but peer pressure from a possee of Columbianos and Catalonians took us up for one more ascent of 'Tambosharaju'! We only lasted until 2am this time and it was so fun! I love dancing! I traded e'mails with the ones I may see again ' climbing in the states or in Spain and we kissed on the cheeks, our saludos, and turned in.Today, Zarela and I had breakfast... Mandy had Pedialite and we rallied to go up to the overlook spot (El Mirador) above Huaraz, where as in so many Latin American towns, there is a huge cross on a hill overlooking the whole town. We were 100yards from the cross when a couple from England told us that 10 minutes prior, two other tourists had been robbed at gun point near the cross and that we should take caution... I put my money in my sock and ran through all the scenarios of how I would defend my camera at gun point... We moved along slowly and then decided to head back down. On the way down we alerted two gals from Denver and another Gringo.

Back at the house now, chillin' and not regretting any sights missed cause I know I'll be back soon! Tomorrow at 1pm I hit the bus for Lima. My limeño friend, Daniel is picking me up at the bus station and we'll grub down one last time before he takes me to the airport and I fly overnight to the US of A.... Until then, I'll be eating Thai food with Naresuan for one last time and then dragging myself up Tambosharaju for one last hurrah with Zarela! Take care and be in touch! luv, rai