We began our excursion of Lake Titicaca from the Peruvian city of Puno. The main highlight of Puno was the peddle powerd taxi ride from our hotel to the small boat that awaited to take us to the small island community of Taquile Island. Home of 2000 people who live a simple exsistance tending to their crops, weaving and knitting beautiful textiles from the wool of the inhabiting sheep and alpacas. Nowadays they tend to the tourist trade by maintaining their beautiful traditional dress and selling their intricate crafts through the community cooperative, which tends to be more expensive then the path side stalls dotted about the island, but better supports the greater community.
After a lovely, scenic lunch we left the island, destined for a small village on a peninsula of the main land for our over night home stay. We were greeted by a marching band of sorts (a drum, a few guitars and maybe a pan pipe and flute) who marched us up to the local school yard where a collection of local fellas and some curious kids gathered in anticipation of a friendly soccer match. The stakes: honour and a few coca colas for the victors. While team GAP or ¨gringo¨ (that´s us) was pretty well stacked with talent (guys from the US, Oz, a Peruvian and a good number of English and Welsh lads) our fitness levels at around 3600m above sea level soon had us gasping for whatever oxygen was available. A simple 15m burst down the concrete pitch (facilitated a basketball court aswell) had you doubled over not sparing a single breath to clear the claggy spit that had lined your airway. The tactic soon became to kick the ball hard so that even if you missed the goal, you were rewarded with a rest while some poor kid had to run across the neighbouring paddock to fetch the ball. While the final score had us on top 4-1 the play was fierce and even. Fatigue had definitely set in at the end and we resorted to the tactic of having our goalie throw the ball the length of the pitch to the awaiting attackers. If the opposition was lucky enough to strip us of the ball and make a break for our end the poor goalie was on his own. While the majority of our opponents were pleased with the game as a whole, one poor lad who looked as though he had been roped into the game just to make up numbers seemed a little bitter. The prize for the vistors was quickly changed to beers and we bought our gracious hosts a round too. I think the acceptance of the beer was more symbolic for me then anything as it took a good 20 minutes to even get down to the label of the litre bottle.
After the match we were introduced to the head of our host family, ours being Jorge and his little four year old boy Julio. As we were being led across paddocks towards their humble adobe home Rob and I prepared ourselves for our first real Spanish test. Welcomed by ¨mum¨ whose name has left me right now (surprise surprise) we were shown our upstairs bedroom and given some time to settle in while Mum went about preparing dinner. Little Julio stayed and showed off the little bits and pieces he had stashed around the place. . Robyn was able to inquire as to what Julio liked to do, and school and sports were high up on the list, along with dancing, which is what we were going to be doing later that night.
Before dinner was served we all sat in the kitchen, with the smoke from the open cooking fire struggling to find the small hole in the mud brick wall just above it. Robyn and I were given the only two chairs that went with the small wooden table while the Mum sat on her cooking stool and Dad and son sat on the ledge at the foot of the storage secton of the floor. Robyns Spanish was admirable as we used the pencils and excercise books to illustrate where on the planet we came from and where our families resided.´Mine seemed to be spread from one corner to the other while Jorges sisters have gone to Puno and another as far as Lima, Peru´s capital. Julio especially liked the little magnets and bookmarks that had drawings of different Australian animals, namely an emu, a koala, kookaburra, and his favourite, the Kangaroo of which he mimicked by bouncing around the small smoky room. Robyns Spanish blossomed over the héarty bowls of soup with vegies and grains, and we were able to talk about how her parents too are farmers and that they grow wool to sell. My Spanish was more entertaining to those who knew I didn´t have a firm grasp on the language and we pieced bits and pieces together over the main meal of Stew and rice.
After dinner we were dressed in traditional dress, which for me was a colourful poncho, a black Sinatra type hat and a man bag (which I´m quite taken with) for receiving coca leaves. Robyns was more involved, comprising of 4 layers of bouncy skirt, a woven sash and a bowler hat that pirched high on her head above her plaits. When dressed the whole GAP group met down at the school house where boys sat to one side and girls to the other. The band formed and a colourful demonstration of the traditional dance was given. Firstly the adults danced, and then more humourously, the kids of the town. Luckily for most of us guys the steps were pretty simple and we were all jiving away in no time. A few beers shared afterwards had us all exhausted and we eventually made our way back to our respective homes.
The next moring saw breakfast of a hard boiled egg and some nice bread along with some nice Muña tea (kinda minty). Julio showed us around the house and we chased some renegade chickens around and then it was time to leave. I think both Julio and I were as sad as one another to say good bye, my years the only thing stoping the same reaction as his. I carried him down to where the rest of the group awaited us and we threw stones into the famous lake until we had to board the boat. I think having all the other Gringos around distracted the little fella as he lined up with the other host fathers to shake hands good bye. And then we were gone. Great experience!!! (I only just managed to stop Alex from smuggling Julio away with us!!)
On our way back to Puno and the nearby floating reed islands we stopped for a plunge into the frigid, green, mysterious waters of lake Titicaca, hoping not to encouter the monstorous blind frogs the Jacques Custo discoverd living one and a half k´s under the surface, before we neared the more polluted waters near the city. The reed islands were fascinating, seeing how and why they were built and how their lifestyle has remained basically unchanged except for the more fruitful tourist trade that exists there now along with the satellite dishes and solar panels that perch on top of the reed houses.Very different. Good luck to them.