Arequipa and Colca Canyon

Our last Peruvian trip was far to the south: Arequipa, near the borders of Chile and Bolivia, was a feast for the eyes. Blue skies, brightly colored walls, and buildings made out of white volcanic rock meant we were constantly reaching for the camera to try to capture the play of light, color, and shadow.

Nuns at Santa Catalina Monastery began their vow of silence after passing under this arch. 

This peek into the blue room in the back made me think of James Turrell. 

Simon's favorite parts of our trip included limonada whenever possible, watching tv (rare!) in one hotel room, trying to crack the code on the safe in another, and checking out the cows just outside our room window in Yanque.

We traveled through Colca Canyon, twice as deep as the Grand Canyon, in an attempt to see condors. The scenery en route was as spectacular as waiting for the condors to rise, majestically, from the canyon floor, riding the morning thermals.

It was also beautiful to see the canyon’s residents dressed up in their traditional clothing for a local celebration. 

The constant juxtaposition of gringos like us with the native residents was jarring but beautiful in its own way. I wonder what the canyon’s residents think of us weird travelers, all of us dressed alike in our similar traveling clothes. I wonder if they get tired of having their picture taken. At least in the Sacred Valley, people expect tips in exchange for these constant pictures.

Invisible on the bus while I held a sleeping Simon, I watched as a Colca Canyon family, dressed in their celebration finery, tried to flag down a passing combi, only to be ignored. They wearily sat down, resigned to wait for the next one. Their combi stop was smack in the middle of a tiny town, which happened to be a rest stop for all the tour buses too. This meant that there were perhaps 100 tourists wandering around, getting their pictures taken with llamas, trained falcons, peeking inside a church partially destroyed by an earthquake. 

Note the falcon perched on the man's head.

A woman walked up to the family, stopped perhaps four feet away and started focusing her enormous camera lens on them. She fiddled with it for what seemed like an eternity as she tried to get a good shot. The mother and father looked away. The toddler stared at the camera. I felt uncomfortable and embarrassed for everyone. Perhaps they are accustomed to it. Perhaps they are annoyed by it. Perhaps they are both.

Once, I felt perhaps a fraction of what they might be feeling, when Simon was crying and upset over something while I was trying to manage luggage and Spanish and hurt feelings at the same time. A mom ran up, posed her young child with Simon, and took a picture. I was annoyed, thinking, “my son is obviously upset, give it a rest with the pictures already!” But I didn’t want to be rude and give a negative impression of the United States, so we stood there for the picture. However, I wasn’t going to ask Simon to stand there by himself or smile.

Sam decided to take the picture too.

Who knows when we have been the ones to inadvertently make someone uncomfortable. Our aim is true but it might not always be correct.

It’s been amazing to see these different parts of Peru. And there is so much that we didn’t have time to see! Peru feels like several different countries crammed into one. As lucky as we are to be able to take these trips, the constant travel and adjustment is helping us to become ready to come home and just be for awhile.