Back to the Andes

No, no relation to time traveling....although at times it seems entirely possible that I have just stepped back into another world or dimension (both infact on many levels). The first experiences of crossing from Chile to Peru are surreal. You step from a semi-European culture, especially in the south of Chile, to a deserted desert....redundant, I know, but there really isn't any other way to describe the Atacama region that leads to the Andes region. Dry, dusty mountains rise up out of sand. Dunes plunge down to the ocean. Terrains become rocky and complexions darken. Boulders appear to have been strewn about the desert surface without any indication as to the source. Further into the Andes, snow capped mountains rise above lush green rolling hills. Abandoned or yet-to be-completed stone and adobe structures litter the curving roadsides. At times, the twists and turns are nearly unbearable. I practice the tricks I've learned for dealing with such sickness, deep breaths, pressure points, and the waves of nausea pass (not helped by the aromas of people and interesting foods). At one pitstop, I sample rubbery "fried" cheese served in a bag with hot sauce, boiled potatoes, and something unidentifiable that a woman across the aisle politely informs me are papas seca, dried potatoes, that are rehydrated and cooked. I'm not sure why they exist except for being a convenient way to store potatoes....but why serve them with boiled potatoes, which seem to be about the same thing....except less spongy.

Peru was just a blip on the map of countless hours of bus travel on the way down from Ecuador to Argentina. Technically more than a blip, but I think I slept through most of it. I am excited to be back in a country that holds so much preserved heritage and history. Hours worth of cattle, sheep, alpaca, and their smaller stick-figure like cousins, vicuña, graze quietly in the fields and on terraced hills. Living amongst these hills, in small villages, sometimes spread very far apart, are the Quechua and Aymara people. The women are distinct in their dress with layers of skirts that have lace eyelets, embroidery, sparkled velvet, paired with jewel-toned sweaters, dress sandals, and always a brightly colored, sometimes neon print, blanket that carries food, supplies, children ...and that's just the everyday wear. Celebrations call for more elaborate embroidery, more sequins, more colors!! The men dress fairly modern, albeit slightly more classy and dressed up than the average Peruano.

The majority of my time is spent in Coya, a small town lying between popular Pisac and Ollantaytambo, west of Cusco. Gabriel, my delightful "child of the sun" 6 year-old nephew, goes to a Waldorf-style school in Pisac. For one week, while his mom's were on the Inka Trail, I had the distinct pleasure of entertaining him, or vice versa, like letting him get his haircut into an awesome faux-hawk (see below), many dance parties, fancy meals, and story telling adventures. Being here with family has been amazing. Memories that are built together, stories that we share of our separate journeys, what we are learning during our day-to-day, supporting each other through the trials, are innumerable and unforgettable. Today, I feel very thankful.

~B

Market Daze

I know that the photos from my phone aren't as great as posting from the computer, but I wanted to sneak in a few from market. If possible, I will repost later.
-B

Valparaiso and continuing north

Catrico was an amazing experience. I am reflecting on: living commune style with people from around the world, Illani, Gusto, Valentina, and Emmita, Snuggling llamas, rising horses, teaching yoga to men working through an intense year of drug and alcohol rehab, hiking to the hill that overlooks the farm where on a clear day the volcano is visible, hiking (barely) Volcan Villarrica, the most amazing sunsets I have ever seen ...

Only a few days spent in Santiago, but I was generally happy with this sprawling, enormous city. The metro system was, luckily, fairly easy to navigate. Illani, the owner of the farm in Catrico, was kind enough to offer her house in an ecological community just outside of the city. It's an amazing idea as opposed to the suburbs sprouting up in every direction. Just past the entrance where Eco shops feature expensive clothing and food, dirt roads lead to a sustainable housing complex. Although the properties are laid out similarly to suburbs, many parcels of land contain two or more houses with gardens and chickens. Caught up with friends, Carlos and Natalie, fellow travelers that I hadn't seen since Ecuador. A great night out exploring the night life, followed by a day of recovery, and then headed further north to one of my favorite cities visited this trip.

This is one place I would recommend to almost anyone looking to travel to the west coast of South America. Located approximately one hour north of Santiago, Valparaiso has something for everyone and awakens creativity. Every possible building surface and even the stairs are covered in artwork. I loved, of course, being surrounded by amazing restaurants, many of which incorporated local and farm grown ingredients. Neighboring Viña del Mar provides a more touristy resort feel.

My third day in Valpo, I escaped the hundreds of mural covered stairwells and steep climbs of the cerros to feel the sand on my feet and seaspray in my face. I wandered for hours by bus and on foot, staring at sand dunes, watching pelicans dive for fish, composing music to the sound of the waves crashing. I knew more ocean was in my immediate future.

Taking a piece of Valpo and Viña with me, and many more hours of travel, brought me to Caleta de Chanard de Aceituno, a small fishing village that thrives off of tourism for a few months of the year. The good graces of Illani made this stay possible as she also owns a house on the outskirts of town. Another phenomenally constructed sustainable house where the sound of waves lulled me to sleep more than I care to admit. But a sweetly perfect way to end my time in Chile.

-B

agricultura en catrico: un refugio verdadero wwoofers

i'm short on words these days with difficulty contemplating every morning as i walk towards the kitchen of Illani and Guayo's adobe house how i will sum up each week that i'm here. How typical that i have spent the majority of my time pondering up the next food creation for the following day, to have the savory and sweet flavors of food jump off a fork or spoon, diving into the palate of 10 maybe 20, perhaps 30 people. All from various parts of the world representing there time here as wwoofers, as families just visiting, poets, or men recovering from deep, dark troubling pasts fighting with addiction looking for forgiveness in the country hills of there home land and on and on and on.

Although after sitting down with all of these crazy individuals(who probably think the same of me), watching them give praise and thanks for a big meal, i wish i had more time to be outside. I have enjoyed my time in the garden, tending to weeds, searching under the prickly leaves of cucumbers of which none are trellised, but still happily green and loving life. Pulling beets with the reminder of doing so all not that long ago for Josh and Jean this summer, my mouth watering just looking at the golden yellow and blood stained red sweet treats. Feeling impatient as the peppers may have been planted too late as summer nears to an end. Tomatoes mostly green still, i watch them slowly turn a shade less each day. Raspberries invading the remaining sectors of an area i so wish to increase in size by double. I keep a sharp, precise eye on the red and blue potatoes that have had very good luck here. Sadly, i question how long this garden will last with honest care and consideration. Alas, my never ending battle of where to plant myself(no pun intended) each day. It's just finding a balance between cooking and cultivating i guess...

Long time friend and neighbor, Juan, usually watches over things as Illani, Guayo, and co. typically depart to their California residence in June or July. I imagine it's a good break for them after a busy spring and summer in Catrico each year. Also, because flights are cheaper than heating there house in the winter. I still get this funny feeling, like there is a need for me to be around longer to make sure things are tended to peacefully. Not to dissaprove of the caretakers here when they are gone but so much more could be obtained, i think, from this land. Illani and Guayo hold  hectares just in Catrico, another property much further north near a penguin community shared with whales and other marine life. Seeing this land gets me more and more excited about having my own farm.

Today, Erika, the german wwoofer who holds her respect more for cabios than humans, unfortunately departs today. She has spent the last few months in Chile looking for a rightful place to care for horses. As i have spent a lot of time with my grandparent's horses when i was much younger, i feel very content and comfortable with the horses here. They're all so different from eachother, but they share a strong companionship with each other. Erika has been great about reestablishing a connection with them individually and between human and horse. At times, it's been tough to get on the horse because of the close memories i had with my own two, Sheba and lacy. But all is well after the feet set in, and the butt is perched in the saddle. Nothing can take away the time invested riding horseback. Erika...I will miss her energy and perseverance to be a stronger person most of all. Others come and go as the wind is slow to move here, maybe once a week, i watch it strike the apple and plum trees, whizzing by the sun dial garden that i transplanted chives, mint and oregano in. Fellow friends, you will be missed, but i won't forget you when the wind returns again.

I watch the worker's craftiness, there way with saws and lumber. Erecting a new bathroom in the main house with a view that encapsulates all the surrounding pasture land, and utilizing the chilean chestnut: castellano for door handles, towel racks, etc. The tarnish really puts an exclamation point on the wood. They continue to finish steps outside, a rustic metal rack for holding tea mugs in the kitchen, and so much more. I think i will immerse myself in a carpentry course or two when i get back to the states, perhaps right after my first year at FoodCorps if i'm accepted in. After seeing them master these projects, it inspires me to get involved with carpentry work. I want to build my own house, a cottage style with two floors influenced by lake houses in the new england region. But then i'm so into adobe and how i would want to incorporate that. And if i can't build my own house, i at least want to take part in the construction of it. The barn that holds the sheep and Llama's is a neat design. It's a figure 8. One section is meant for the Llama's and the other for the sheep, but it appears they all enjoy eachothers company so much, they just end up wherever, together. Illani enjoys the concept of circles and morphing or twisting similar shapes when building so is the reason behind the barn.

Several days now have passed. I've had to put this down to contemplate more. I had a fun opportunity to slow cook a leg of wild boar or  today, contending with making mozzarella and queso fresco. Outside projects include clearing the bog that contain arandanos(blueberries) and hopefully next year cranberries. The vegetable garden is being overwhelmingly taken over by the frambuesas(raspberries) so we will transplant the roots to the bog also. In between those tasks: tieing up loose ends with the spring up on the mountain by fixing the decanting tank so it actually works, cleaning the barns out for winter, weeding out the garden for the following year, winterizing the house and tidying up before we head north, where even more tasks will be laid out until our brief stint in Peru.

I will end with some poetry:

The straps, fastened in
pull them tighter, you'll bleed the horse
we drift onto the rocky roads of catrico
gates await our toggle to unlock the secrets
further yonder, green and yellow pastures bristle our hands
at last we reach the firey heavens of the disco
salivating the pig
breaking for the cool river as i sit pondering about life and death
lets go back before the dark is too dark for our eyes
trot, canter, gallop onward home
volcano, volcano, volcano smoke
the others desire for more helados like children begging for candy
while the smell of brassicas in the field tempt my slithering tongue
stars turn themselves on, replacing the bulbs of dead ones filling the sky
tints of red, orange
hues of yellow and blue
smiling, knowing all will be okay in the end
Orion's belt, big and little dippers, Jupiter
and on and on, i dream with the horse...