Goodbye Urubamba, Goodbye Arco Iris; Hello Puno, Hello Lake Titicaca

Arguably the most artistic thing I've created since kindergarten.

        As they say. All things must come to an end and my time in Urubamba at the Rainbow Center has done just that.

        I thoroughly enjoyed my time working at the Rainbow Center. I enjoyed my time there so much that I extended my stay beyond my original plans. Working alongside the other fantastic volunteers and the wonderful staff at the center has made me even more appreciative of the work that Kiya Survivors is doing.

        At no point in time did I feel money was being squandered or that time was being wasted. Without a doubt every cent was accounted for and overhead costs were kept to a bare minimum. I am proud to have had the opportunity to witness such a deserving charity in action and I sincerely hope to be able to return someday. Between my family and I moving back to the U.S. and myself starting university, in the immediate future, my schedule is a bit, ahh, full. But someday.

        On Wednesday, my final day at the center, the staff and students gave me a very kind sendoff. Quite a few of the students and nearly all of the staff came forward to say a few words kind words and give me a goodbye hug. I was surprised by the amount of students who came forward to say goodbye. I either made a greater impact on a greater number of students then I previously imagined or I'm just a cuddly dude. It could be both.

So. Many. Hugs.

        Whatever the reason, I was genuinely touched. I wasn't expecting a sendoff at all and to see so many of the children eager to say a few kind words before I went reassured me greatly that my time at the Rainbow Center was not in vain.

        As my lovely volunteer coordinator Aisha told me: "Even when you don't think you're making a difference... you are." The sendoff made me appreciate how much I had enjoyed my time at the center. I found myself a bit choked up as I said goodbye to all the teachers (or profes). From smiling Miguel, our indispensable outreach angel, to Louisa, the happy cook who always scolded me for not eating lunch at the center and everyone between the entire staff is worthy of a thousand and one thank yous. They make Kiya Survivors function day by day in a fantastic way.

        I encourage everyone to visit the official Kiya Survivors website (www.kiyasurvivors.org) and check them out if you haven't yet. Please consider spreading awareness about the work they are doing or, if you are able, assisting them with a monetary donation. You can make a donation, buy a gift for either a child or the center, or even sponsor a child monthly. Consider it a "tip" if you've enjoyed my blog thus far... or if you just want me to go away.

You can even buy feed for the animals at the center if children aren't really your thing.

        Now, let me tell you what I've been up to the past few days. On Saturday morning I took a bus to Puno, a city located on the shores of South America's largest lake: Lake Titicaca. Lake Titicaca holds the record for the being the world's "highest commercially navigable" lake in the world at 3,800 meters above sea level. Apparently, from here, "highest commercially navigable" means able to support boats "Bigger than those little rubber rafts that you weenies haul to the top of mountains in your vain attempts to 'prove' that your piddly little puddle is the highest lake!"... as the Peruvian's say.

Certainly not a little puddle.

        Please note: the last link where that ridiculous explanation of "highest commercially navigable" comes from is the same source that the infallible Wikipedia uses for its page on Lake Titicaca. The website makes no attempt to pretend that its a credible source of information; it claims to have got most of its information "searching the internet". How marvelously credible their information must be then! I mean, hell, the website is even called www.highestlake.com so they must know their stuff. Tsk, tsk, Wikipedia: I expect better of you.

        The lake itself has many charms, but perhaps the most renown are the "floating islands" of Uros. Here you can visit the unique living culture of a society of people who live on raft-like floating islands made from water reeds.

Say what?

        As the name suggests Uros is not your typical archipelago. The forty-two "islands" upon which a few hundred people live are not technically islands, but are large raft-like human creations made from the semi-edible and incredibly buoyant totora reed which grows just off lake Titicaca's shores. The authenticity of the current generation of island dwellers is often questioned (with good reason, the vast majority of the "islanders" live in Puno), but I nevertheless found my little glimpse into this dying culture fascination.

Yep, that's actually floating.

My day at the islands went something like this:

        I woke up early and had a quick breakfast of eggs on toast. This was something of a special breakfast when contrasted with the usual jam and bread that you get served at most hostels, but let's not dwell on my meal choices.

         After breakfast I was off to Uros. I took a tricycle from outside my hostel down to the port. Even though it was downhill most of the way I wasn't entirely sure how to feel about being peddled around in a tricycle. I was paying him, but something about being "driven" around in a peddle bicycle just reeked of imperialism. "I'm sure the British felt alright knowing they were 'paying' the Indians..." I thought to myself as I tried to justify my own ride.

The elusive and awkward "I'm not sure if this is morally right" smile.

        In any case, after my guilt-ridden journey to the port I bought my boat ticket and away I went. I took pleasure in being the only gringo in my tour group. When you're traveling you know you're doing it right if you look up and you're the only foreigner in a group of tourists.

        A short thirty minute ride left us at the first floating island. And how bizarre it was. Everything was made of the floating reeds. We stepped (gingerly) onto the floating mass to learn more. Our friendly island guide gave us a brief, but informative introduction to life on the islands.

Being greeted by the islanders.

        We learned that the bundles of reeds were over 2.5 meters (8 feet) deep and rested on the underwater root system of the original reeds some 3 meters (10 feet) down. The islands are then moored in place by eucalyptus trees driven into the lake bed 15 meters (50 feet) down so they don't "wake up in Bolivia". Each month the islanders put down a new layer of reeds to replace the older ones which rot away from the bottom. The culture of these islands may be dying, but the islands are very much alive.

A nice illustration: the block on the bottom is the "root bed" upon which 3 meters of the green reeds are laid. Houses are then build on top.

        Naturally we were hounded for money and repeatedly offered hideously handmade crafts, but only with halfhearted enthusiasm. I believe the islanders must save their energy for the larger fanny-pack toting and alpaca jumper wearing foreign tour groups.

        We were taken on a quick boat ride in one of their traditional reed boats and dropped off on the "main island" where we had the opportunity to buy overpriced food and drinks. I passed on the kind offer. We then returned to Puno by boat.

Two traditional boats joined together to form a pontoon boat. I suppose that makes it non-traditional, but let's not get too technical here.

        All in all the whole journey took roughly three hours and I felt they were three hours well spent. The trip set me back only 8 USD as well so I definitely got good value for my money. If you have the patience to visit the island sans organized tour I would definitely recommend it. Granted you have to be in the southern highlands of Peru first!

        Puno itself doesn't have too much to offer in the way of entertainment. As a matter of fact it really has nothing to offer aside from letting you visit Uros and a few other nearby islands. I spent the rest of my day there walking around and writing up with blog. There is a small hill you can climb for a good vista of the city, but I usually don't count that as "something to do" in a city.

        Tomorrow I begin my trip home! I have a flight out of Cusco (where I am now) at 12.00 and a flight from Lima to Madrid at 19.45 tomorrow evening. This puts me in Madrid by 14.30 on Thursday and after an overnight stop I continue again to Copenhagen . I will be back in good old Denmark by 15.00. As you might imagine I am incredibly excited to be returning home to the land of good food, good family, and good friends. I assure you that if you're reading this blog, then I'm probably excited to see you when I get back: I don't imagine too many of my arch-nemeses are reading this now.

         See you all on the other side!