Cuzco

We´ve spent the last two days exploring the islands of Lake Titicaca (pronounced Titihaha in Aymara, as we learned) and have left behind the Lago and dusty Puno for Cuzco, Perú. Cuzco is different than I thought it would be, with more white people per square foot than Peruvians, and more touristy bad fashion than I thought possible for such a seemingly remote place.
We visited the floating islands of Uros people in Lago Titicaca. These people have created a whole community of islas flotantes, fashioned out of the spongy, slightly squishy reeds that abound on the Peruvian side of the lake. Now, they main industry that supports the communities is tourism, as people like us traipse around the delicate islands, riding on their traditional boats and snapping photos of everything. From the floating islands, we took a slow-moving boat to the island of Amanteni, nestled around the peninsula. Amanteni is crowned by two twin temples, one to Pachatata and one to Pachamama (the madre tierra, the mother earth goddess of the indigenous people). We hiked up the terraced mountainside, watched the sunset from over Perú, and contemplated the generally larger mysteries of life in the growing shade of the evening. As we hiked down in the darkness, the entire skyline off the island was illuminated by a spectacular lightning show, fat stabs of electricity highlighting the infinitestimal quiet of the island. We spent that night in a small brick shack, complete with a goaty smell and outhouse, sharing the company of Faustina (a shy, smiley indigenous woman) and her family. They have a ´discoteque´on the island in which they dress all the tourists in the traditional clothes of the native people, and have us all get drunk and dance to a traditional Andean band. We passed on the Cuzqueño (Peruvian beer) in favor of water, in an effort of offset the ill effects of debilitating altitude sickness.
The next day, we set off in our little boat for the island of Taquile, which has been thoughly capitalized by the tourist industry. We hiked up the Plaza Central, which boasts one Catholic church and one Adventist. Who knew?
After lunchtime, the boat made its lazy way back to Puno, and we spent the 3 hour journey lounging on the top deck in the sun, talking and listening to our iPods (like good little Americans). Back in Puno, we ate a fantastic dinner and met up with the English girls, and the Argentinians (who are probably two of the most afuera de mano, or out of hand, people I have met on this trip). We drank beer and sang songs and started a dance party with the willing help of the Peruvian bartenders, called it a night early and turned in for bed.
Today we left Puno for Cuzco, and after 6 hours traversing the awe-inspiring valleys in a spiffy tourist bus, we reached the city and our friendly little hostel. We´re planning on checking out the local nightlife here in Cuzco, spotting as many tourists from as many different countries as possible. It´s crazy to come to Cuzco after Puno, which is dirty and bustling and full of Peruvians. I´ve been thinking about alot of different things during this trip, which I hope will solidify into something a bit more cohesive when I get back to Chile. Until then...te vayas bien y buen viaje!