Only one community proved to hold me back. When it rains in rural Puno, not many peasants like to attend meetings. So, I will have to return for a final hurrah next Wednesday to Friday...and hopefully not have any more flea bites (seriously, those buggers really, really itch!!!!!)
Okay, so here's my story of the joys of traveling in Puno. This, I think, is my favority road trip story ever!
First of all, God bless the Church. When you work for Jesus, you definitely can get around with greater ease in rural Peru. Traveling to Kelluyo with Nico (who is the director of a development institute in the prelature of Juli) has been very relaxing. We always ride in his fancy truck out to the community. It is definitely a nice change from the smelly, stuffed combis and buses.
After the luxury travels of Kelluyo, I faced the real world as I headed to Moho: 1hr. combi to Juliaca, 3 hr. bumpy bus to Moho. In December, I had faced adversity in my return from a community in Moho and had to hitch hike on a motorcycle for a small portion of the trip. I think that Wednesday's adventure takes the cake.....
Cesar (my companion from the NGO, Jatha Muhu) and I were a bit concerned about our time crunch when we left at 8am to visit community 3 of our work. We had to accomplish 3 activities before 2:30--1) interview the mayor, 2) visit the local high school, and 3) conduct a focus group with 7 to 10 community members.
8:40- we got off the bus at the bridge point and were prepared to walk some 40 minutes to arrive at community 3. Luckily, a combi was heading to the community and offered us a ride for a bargain 1 sole!! We saved time and the exhaustion of carrying our packs. At the time, I was really happy about our stroke of luck. I think I felt relief too quickly...
9:00- we arrive at the municipality...the closed municipality. Curious as to where the mayor was, seeing that we had called in advance to schedule the appointment, we asked a local. "Oh, señorita, the community is just up there," one of the locals told me. "Just up there" translates to "they have climbed to the highest point of the hillside". So, Cesar and I dropped our bags in storage, and up we hiked. It was like climbing a mini Machupicchu...I was glad I had opted to eat the breakfast of potatoes and rice.
From the top of the hill, we could see the entire main sector of the community overlooking the lake. It really is one of the most beautiful areas of Lake Titicaca in Peru.The Mayor and the population were surprised to see that we had come up the hill. "Why did you not wait for us down at the bottom?" his assistant asked us. "We were about to head down to meet you." Ugh.
So I have the interview with the Mayor, who is about 140 years old and can't really hear. The recording is quite funny because I am almost yelling to make sure he hears me.
11:00- We tour the high school in the community. The professors at the school were very excited to show me around...maybe a bit too excited, and I was nervously checking my watch. Cesar was going to hold the focus group in Aymara once the locals finished their communal work on the hillside. One of the locals came to inform us that the population was ready, but the director of the school insisted on showing me a few more things. So, Cesar left to begin the focus group and I stayed at the school a while longer.
1:00- The high school director accompanied me back to the municipality, and, to my surprise, Cesar was not there. We were told that everyone was having lunch, at which point I became extremely worried. The focus group would last about an hour, sometimes more, and we had to be at the bus stop (which would take 40 minutes to walk) by 2:30. In rural Puno, meetings do not begin until everyone's plate is clean.
Cesar gave me an equally concerned look. He informed me that he had tried to gather 10 community members, but everyone wanted to hear me talk. Another rural Puno reality is that rumors and speculations run fast. The population thought that I was coming to announce a huge donation for an irrigation or hamster production project. As I gulped down my soup as quickly as possible, we came up with our strategy. When I was served my 3 lbs. plate of rice and beans, I asked for a bag to take it home with me, thereby speeding up the process.
After being introduced in Aymara by the high school director, I began to talk to the 75+ community members present. In reality, I didn't have much to say, but I went on about my work, my travels....really anything to waste time. In the meantime, Cesar had plucked 10 residents out of the crowd, and no one noticed that they had gone to the municipality to do the focus group. After about 40 minutes of talking and listening to the multitude of funding requests by the community, I made my exit (of course everyone wanted the gringa picture...and my email...and for me to hold their child....)
2:15- I rushed to the municipality to find that the focus group was going rather well. Unfortunately, while Cesar was trying to get through the questions quicker than ususal, the participants were bantering in their answers. As much as I love this in my focus groups, it was making me really anxious. Finally, they finished the focus group and we grabbed our gear and headed for the road. Luckily, one of the teachers at the school offered to give us a ride to the bridge and we arrive at 2:30 on the dot!
3:00-We waited, and waited, and waited. The bus still had not come, which was a bit odd. Finally, down the road, we could see a bus heading our way. Cesar noted that it looked quite old and thought that it was probably a contraband bus. He was right. The contrabandist often buy old, used buses to transport their goods from the Bolivian border to the city of Juliaca. This rackety old bus was in pretty aweful shape. It leaned heavily to the right and had fumes coming out of the engine. The driver stopped at the bridge to throw water on the engine, and we begged him for a ride. At first, he was apprehensive, but we talked our way on.
Yup, I rode on a contraband bus, atop bags of Brazilian flour and who knows what else down an extremely bumpy, unpaved road. I couldn't stop smiling, thinking how ridiculous my travels in Moho have been to date. We got less than half way down the highway to the town of Huancané when the driver and his wife started exchanging worried looks. A fellow contraband truck approached us, and the drivers had an exchange of words...
"Are they coming?"
"Yep, its them, with the fiscal"
"THE FISCAL! THE FISCAL!" our driver started to scream, as he quickly attempted to put the bus in reverse. Panicked about the oncoming police operative, his wife threw open the door and kicked the five hitchhikers, Cesar, and me out of the bus. The other truck also stopped, opened its rear doors, and out jumped some 25 contrabandists!!! They all rolled up their sleeves, ready to take on the oncoming police cars. I assume some of them were armed, but we decided not to stick around and watch.
Unfortunately, abandoned in the middle of the countryside, Cesar and I were more worried about the oncoming storm clouds over the lake. We walked down the dirt road with four other hitchhikers and a man who had recently bought a donkey and was returning home (he had a 5 hour walk thanks to the donkey!!) We certainly lucked out because the storm was not too strong. Once we reached a major fork in the road, in order to stay dry from the cold rain and heavy wind, we hide underneath the bed of a resting truck. Unfortunately, the truck driver did not want to wait out the storm, and we were left without shelter.
Cesar and I were left with three choices. One- wait and hope that a bus or combi would show up to take us to Juliaca or at least Huancané. Two- walk to Huancané (at least 2.5 hours from where we were). Three- Walk in the opposite direction to a district capital where we would probably find a bus or taxi to take us to Huancané. Of the 7 stranded hitchhikers, 3 opted to stay, and the other 4 of us started walking towards the district capital. Ten minutes into our walk, we turned around to watch our three companions be picked up by a bus and whisked away to Juliaca....grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
After walking in the rain for 25 minutes, we arrived to the district capital. A few combis were present, but no one wanted to leave at that time. Cold, tired, and anxious to get home (it was already 5pm and would be another 2 hours to get back to Puno), I told Cesar that I wanted to contract a taxi. He thought I was crazy to pay 20 soles (a little less than $7), but later thanked me for making the decision. We hired a 75 toyota to drive us on the bumpy road for an hour to Huancané. Cesar and I enjoyed some powerbars that I wisely saved for the trip....THANK YOU WIGGINS!!!!!!!!!!
From Huancané, we took a combi to Juliaca, arriving around 6:40, and from Juliaca another combi to Puno. At 8:00pm I arrived to my house, took a lukewarm shower (washing off two more fleas from my body), and headed over to Kike's restaurant for a glass of wine and something to eat that was not rice, potatoes, or bread.
The work in the country side is tiring. I have definitely been sick way to many times while I am out there. The fleas like me way too much. But I feel so sad to think that I only have one more outing left to the countryside! I know from the sounds of it is seems crazy, but I really, really am going to miss Puno!
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