Peru – Page 3 – Mystery, fantasy and romance at the dangerous ends of the earth

Arequipa, the good, the bad, and the sublime

By Karen Abrahamson | April 1, 2011

I’ve been in Arequipa for three days after an arduous 16 hour bus ride down the coast of Peru and into the high desert that surrounds Arequipa. It is known as the white city of the Andes because it is back-dropped by three magnificent volcanoes and because in previous centuries its buildings were all made of sillar, which is white volcanic stone. Even the desert around here is of white sand.

One corner of the Monastereo de Santa Catelina (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

But regardless of the scenery, it’s the people of Arequipa – the Arequipenos – that I have fallen in love with. The love affair began with a call to an Arequipa guest house when I was in Lima. The owner didn’t have a spot for me, but she booked my stay at the Los Andes Hostel and also politely offered English classes. I’ve had three days of crash course 3 hours a day. I’m still not fluent, but I can fumble my way through an ‘Ola’ at least.

Carmelita of Puno, Arequipa (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson — Carmelita of Puno, on the Arequipa streets (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

I’ve met lovely Indian women on the cobbled streets and murdered some Spanish to share bits of our lives. I’ve had a tour guide wait for me after a sublime tour through the Monastereo de Santa Catalina after dark, to gift me with a book about the place because we got to talking and her daughter has been gone for two months to my city of Vancouver and mom is worried. I offered to get in touch with her daughter when I get home. There have been so many more. The people smiling on the street, the man in the hostel who solved the mystery of why my newly minted Peruvian cell phone wouldn’t call Canada, the fantastic English teacher (how can you not love a man called Fabrizio), and he super nice hotel staff. And then here was the police man – but I’ll get to him.

The old part of Arequipa is built around a lovely square that is continually flocked with both pigeons and people. I mean this is the most use I have ever seen out of a park. During daylight hours every bench is filled and so is every inch of grass. The Pigeons own the pavement. Families chase after small children and the huge cathedral towers over it all. On the other three side of the Plaza are lovely arched galleries that shade from the sun of the rain that apparently comes heavily in January/February.

Arequipa square (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

You see signs of the rains at the Monastery and at other old buildings as well. Water damage to precious old murals painted on the rock walls. Of course this is relatively minor compared to the damage earthquakes have caused. Both of the fine old monasteries I visited have undergone extensive restoration to deal with it.

The Monastereo de Santa Catalina is painted terra cotta and yellow and Mediterranean blue. It is filled with far too many niches and corners that caught my camera’s eye. I spent three hours there on my own one morning, just wandering through the silences. This monastery is still in use, though the number of nuns has significantly decreased from its heyday. These nuns were from wealthy families and had to pay handsome annual dowries to the monastery. They had their own apartments (the size and opulence dependent on their family’s wealth) as well as servants (read, slaves) and held dances and musical interludes. Not very nunnish, if you ask me.

Anyway, that all changed in the restoration and they shifted to more austere living arrangements, but still the place is filled with flowers and Moorish arches and hidden alcoves and fountains and goldfish and remaining nun have their part of the Monastery away from the world.

So I know you are all wondering about the policeman.

This morning, I went to the Museo de Arte Virreinal de Santa Teresa, a museum set in another monastery, that also has its nuns still in residence though they are depleted from 250 to 21 (apparently a specifically chosen number). Again I had a wonderful time and bought a lovely pumpkin-filled pastry to eat on my way home. So I’m happily walking down the street with camera bag and purse secured at my side and his man walks past. No problem. Suddenly he turns and rushes at me and slams into my side, while grabbing for the purse, but to take it, he basically has to take me, too, because it’s slung across my body. So he grabs my Buddha necklace that I never take off, and he rips it off my neck and takes off himself.

A man yells and runs after him. The people on the block are all yelling. They guide me to the police and so I end up with the tourist police and my policeman. Thankfully he spoke English.

So I gave my report and I won’t bore you with all the details, but will only say that I have had more apologies on behalf of Arequipenos, than you can shake a stick at. But the policeman was very kind. He took my information and the last time I saw him to pick up the formal statement for insurance purposes, he asked me (shyly) you are a writer? Yes.

Like books? Yes, I say.

What kind of books? I tell him.

Could I find your books on the internet? Yes.

Could I read them there? Again, yes. So I had to tell him about each one.

Which just goes to show that good can come from bad. Yes, I was robbed, but I gained an audience.

(I’m sending him a complimentary copy of one of my books.)

I even found a parade to have fun with (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

With a Llama on Her Head: With Blisters on Her Feet

By Karen Abrahamson | March 28, 2011

Day two Lima and I have so many blisters I cannot believe it. This while wearing sandals I wore all through Cambodia with nary a problem. I don’t understand this. I have blisters on the balls of my feet and on the callus edges of my heels. I mean what’s up with that? I thought calluses were supposed to protect you from blisters. Sigh.

Anyway, I’ve walked lots and seen some, so let me regale you with it.

Lima sits on ocean cliffs in a spot Pizarro apparently chose after he was finished killing the last Inca King and Stealing his gold. Notthat those things are related or anything, but Lima wasn’t his first pick for the capital, nor was it the second, but it was the one that ‘took’, apparently because of the wide, flat-bottomed valley it sits in. Not that I’d know if we’re in a wide valley or not. I still haven’t seen mountains.

Barranco municipal square at twilight (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

The darn fog has barely lifted both days, but given the little I know about Lima it seems to be a place of broad, clean streets and friendly people. And pets. Limans (is that the right word) seem pretty devoted to their pets. My first day here I walked down to the sea cliffs and along the promenade that reminds me so much of the Vancouver Seawall. There were people jogging, people strolling and people making out under the statue of the lovers (that I could barely see for the fog). And there were dogs. Small fluffy ones, British bulldogs, German Shepards and even (thank goodness) a pair of Peruvian Hairless dogs that look a lot like a stockier Doberman Pincher, but with dark, almost hairless bodies and some even have bonded air on their foreheads that make them look like they’re wearing an incredibly bad toupee.

And there are cats. Yes, I managed to find them and I fell in love with Miraflores (the suburb I’m staying in). You see I wandered down to Parque Kennedy and there, in between the Municipal hall and the Cathedral I wandered into a wonderland of cats. There were black ones and calicoes and torties and every other color cats come in, and in every size and shape as well. Right under the sign that even I could understand that said “Don’t Abandon Your Cats Here”. Sure. Like that’s happening. Children play with and pat the kittens. The cats loll in the sun. Some kind soul has put out cat beds and plush cat houses so that it looks like there are ‘heaps o’ cats’ there. There’s even an older guardian of the cats keeping watch. I mean how can you not love this town?

Inside Monestary de Santo Domingo (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

So I ogled the cats and visited a ruin site in the City, and then caught a taxi to Barranco, the next suburb over, to see the old neighborhoods and the Puente de los Suspiros – the Bridge of Sighs. Unlike the bridge in Venice, this is nothing to do with people being dragged off to prison. Instead, this is a bridge dedicated to lovers. It is commemorated in romantic songs. All around it are quaint restaurants with little twosome tables set to watch the sun go down. There are Latin guitar players to serenade you, and flower sellers, selling perfect red roses, and to pay for all this are the lovers.

Let me tell you I felt out of place. EVERYWHERE you looked people were in love (or lust as the case may be) I saw more lip-locks than I could count. But it was kind of fitting given the sun finally came out in time to set.

I had dinner in Barranco, a Peruvian specialty of Anticuchos – brochettes of tender slabs of beef heart – and large white-kernel corn, with a drink of Chica Morades – a sweet drink made from purple corn. Lovely.

So today I went into central Lima, to the Plaza des Armas. I visited the cloisters of two monasteries, including their catacombs. Stepped into too many churches and watched the Changing of the Guard at the Presidential Palace. This involved a red-serge dressed marching band, and ranks of young soldiers with flashing bayonets and high kicks.

One thing that is very clear in Lima, there are security people everywhere. Outside banks and guarding parking lots, outside the palace the gates are barred and there are soldiers in large military vehicles with tactfully-covered submachine guns (who will grin at you as they talk on their cell phone). After the changing of the guard I decided to visit Plaza San Martin to see the statue of a mounted San Martin, the liberator of Peru. He was large and grand and the ubiquitous pigeons seemed to avoid him, but just under his horse’s chin was a lovely statue of Patria, the symbolic mother of Peru. She is supposed to wear a crown of flames, but something apparently happened in the translated instructions from Spain where llama means flame. To the statue makers it meant something else and so there is a lovely little llama on her head.

So while I sit here feeling sorry for myself about my sore feet, I remind myself of Patria. Heck, blisters will heal.

She has to wear a llama forever.

Patria andand her llama (and San Martin, too) (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

Choosing an Agent (Or why any agent may be the last thing you want)

By Karen Abrahamson | January 24, 2011

Okay, I’m headed off to Peru to climb the Inca Trail. The only problem is the Peruvian Government now only allows 500 people a day on the trail and ONLY if with a sanctioned guide. This is a problem. This means I must decide who is going to help me climb that mountain. Do I just go to a travel agent and have them book the trip? Do I just choose the first guide off the internet? Do I talk to one person and make a decision?

No. And no. And no. I want to plan my own trip, so first I have to decide what I want in an agent.

I’ve had this discussion many times with my parents who also like to travel. They like a travel agent who they can visit. They tell the agent generally what they want to do and the agent makes all the arrangements. Which means that the agent also makes all the decisions. Which has resulted in some pretty stupid oversights over the years – like my parents being stuck in veritable monsoons in Portugal unaware that their plane tickets gave them the privilege of escaping anywhere else in Europe at no cost. Or arriving for a second honeymoon in a beachfront hut in Tahiti, only to find that beach front and ocean view are two different things entirely. (They had a lovely view of the manure filled beach stables, however.)

So I tend to opt for taking a little more control in the travel situation.

For a trip of this nature I know there are plenty of agents to choose from. Go on-line and search Machu Picchu Tours and your search engine will indicate there’s 588,000 results. Not exactly how I want to spend my evenings. So I develop criteria. This is where you need to be self aware enough to know what you want. So my criteria are (in no particular order):

1. Experience delivering the service – how long have they been in business.

2. Client feedback

3. Local Peruvian connections

4. Size of group they usually take

5. Type of group they focus on

6. Knowledge of the area and culture

7. They speak English.

If you look at this list you are going to see a lot of similarity to considerations you should make when searching for a literary agent. If you want a literary agent (and this is an ‘if’ in this day and age. If you’re not sure what I’m talking about I direct you to a blog here).

So how long has a potential literary agent been in that line of work? Too long? Are they about to retire? Or are they young and hungry, but likely to drop out of the business when they find out how tough it is out there? You need to balance both these issues to find someone who might be appropriate to represent you. If you want an agent.

What are prior customers saying? Sure, you can depend on what the company posts, but look elsewhere as well. Editors and Predators, for writing, but also search for tour company recommendations.

For this trip I want a company that is locally based, instead of European or American. Yes, an American company may be well established, but does it give back to the local economy? Is it run environmentally and does it help the local people? A company with these sorts of links is also likely to meet my need for the guides to be culturally-based, because this is important to me. I want to hear what they think. I want to hear their stories and hear what they know about the environment I’m travelling in.

From a writer’s perspective considerations of this nature mean does the agent have New York connections? Sure the internet means anyone anywhere can make contact with New York editors, but if the agent is New York based, they are going to know the publishing culture – at least their part of it. (For more on this, see here, and read the comments as well)

Knowing who they usually serve as clients will help you know whether the tour group will fit you. I don’t want to travel the Inca trail with people who want to party all the way, but neither do I want to hike the trail with people who are going to complain it’s too hard. So I need to check the ages of people who travelled with a company. I need to check the photos on their websites.

With agents you need to know whether their model of agency works for you. Are they agents who provide editorial services, or are they agents who focus on sales. Your choice about what you prefer, but be clear about what it is you want and ask about it. (If you don’t understand, why, read that blog I mentioned.)

Size of group gets at whether I’ll be travelling with a group of 4-8 or a group of 17. Guess which size I’d rather travel with as an independent traveler? Smaller group means it might be a trifle harder, I might have to carry more, but it also means more opportunity to do what I want, instead of being dragged behind a larger group.

With an agent, it’s important to know how large their client list is and who their client list is. If they have a large list will they have time for you? If they have a NY Times best seller client, will they have time for you? Think about this. You shouldn’t need to have your hand held, but you should be able to get electronic correspondence from your agent in a timely fashion.

Lastly, I’ve listed English speaker. Why? Because I speak English and part of my reason for travel is to speak to people of another culture and learn. Yes, I should learn Spanish, but I won’t be fluent by the time I leave, so this is the next best option.

For an agent you need to be sure that you speak the same language. You need to be certain that you both have the same understanding of what you want from your agent—or not.

So I’m down to two possible companies to choose from. One is LlamaPath and the other is United Mice. Both fit my Peruvian criteria and both have been around for a few years. Both were professional and sent information to me quickly after I queried. Tonight I make the final decision and commit myself to my faithful guide.

But only because I have to have a guide.