Puno and the Floating Islands of the Uros
Yesterday morning at 5am, I arrived in Puno. I didn't get much sleep on the bus since 2am when a woman jumped up and started yelling the name of the stop for about 4 minutes. Startled everyone terribly...especially those who needed to get off. They hastily grabbed their stuff and leaped off.

Puno is located on Lake Titikaka, orginally Lake Titikala, meaning the Puma stones. The ancient peoples from the area thought that the lake was in the shape of a puma eating a rabbit. Titi means "puma" and kala means "stones". When the Spanish came they didn't understand either the Aymaran speaking peoples or the Quechas, and so they renamed the lake Titikaka (puma shit)
Lake Titikaka is the highest navigable lake in the world. You have to be careful for the first couple of days when you arrive because altitude sickness is VERY common and some people die from it. The lake is located at 3820 m above sea level.

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hmmm...there's a bit of a strike going on outside at this moment. all sorts of chanting and whistles being blown and yelling for justice. hmmm...peaceful though. that's good.
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So, 5am...I thought I would have to wait at the freezing bus station for a few hours until the hostels opened up, but there was a man there that knew a 24 hour hotel near the Plaza del Armas (usually the town center and the nicest square in town) for about $4.50 a night with a private bathroom and hot water. His name is Luis, and he's a travel agent and also had many tours. I booked the all day tour of the Uros people's floating islands and the Isla of Taquila.

The floating islands are very interesting. They are constructed entirely of reeds, as are the houses (except for the solar panels for electricity), the boats, everything except for the clothes. The Uros origonally built the islands to isolate themselves first from the Collas and the Incas and later from the Spanish. Now there are now pure blooded Uros left, as they have intermarried with the Peru-indigenous Aymara speaking peoples- although they speak spanish as well. About 300 people live on the islands that are over commercialised now, but still interesting since there really isn't anything else like them in the world. The islands are sort of soft and springy and you can see them move a bit like a water bed when a couple of people are walking around at the same time. Very cool. I went on a ride in one of the boats to another island. There are only a few families on each small island and the women sit in front of their houses with their traditional and touristy wares for sale, while wearing their traditional garb. The men are all out fishing and hunting. Every Sunday the women take boats up the coast of Lake Titikaka a ways to a town where there is a market. Here they trade fish for potatoes, fresh fruit and other things they need.

Many people ask for propinos (tips) for taking their photograph. 1Sol is enough (30 US cents), but it's a better thing to give fresh fruit or food instead (that's what our guide said). On one of the islands an old woman was grinding some grain with a great half moon shaped stone in hopes of having her picture taken. Naturally many people wanted to, and I watched as several from our group did. One didn't give her a propino and she argued with her body language and made some awful faces and (I'm sure) muttered a curse under her breath. Another guy took a picture and was trying to decide if he should pay her or no...he spoke with me, "but the guide said that it's better to give fruit or fresh food, not money." I asked if he had any fruit-he didn't- and said, "Well then...think about it. For you it's a few centimos and for her it's her liveilihood. She's old besides" He agreed and gave her the Sol which she turned over in her hands, surveying happily with a smile and put it in her pocket. I asked if I could take a photo and with a determined and serious face she resumed her grinding. I thanked her and watched her look the coin over happily and pocket it. I wish I could have gotten a picture of her smile!!

Lunch and Adventure on the Island of Taquila
It took two hours in the hot sun and cold wind to reach the Isla of Taquila. You must enter the island from the port on one side,and hike up a steep pathway of rocks about 1200 meters high. It takes about 20-30 minutes and is not recommended unless you are acclimated to the altitude. I was surprised to find myself easily winded and with my shoulders aching under my pack after the first 1/3 of the path. Determined though, I rested for a couple of moments and hurried up the rest of the way to the center of the island. There is a community restaurant and for 8 Soles (about $2.30 US) you can have a lunch of vegetable soup and either omelette or fish from the lake, as well as a cup of tea. Tea made from the Coca plant is very common in Peru- to provide extra energy.

After lunch we were allowed time to explore the island a little and then had to meet in the plaza to walk down a different road to the port on the OTHER side of the island. I stepped into a store for no longer than 4or 5 minutes since the last time I saw my guide. That was when everyone met and left. The guide didn't count at the top, just left. Back in the plaza, it only took a moment to realize that no one was around. I didn't know where the path to the port was and luckily I speak spanish. (I say this because if it had been one of the others in my group it might have been much worse). As it was, the people were shaking their heads and saying that I was much too late and should stay there. I thanked them and asked them to please tell me where to find the port just in case my boat hadn't left. They finally pointed me on my way, chuckling the whole time.

I RAN down the path (those of you who know me well know that I NEVER run). Unfortunately it lead me UP (not down) to some pre-inca ruins and then to some farms. Oy. Running straight up at this altitude was not an easy task, let alone in my sandals. The path ended. Oy. I saw a local up a ways and yelled greetings and asked for directions. Unfortunately the response was carried away on the wind. Luckily there was a woman there and she pointed the direction. I thanked her and ran on leaving them laughing. Now I could see the ocean at least and knew I was close. However, the path had split again and I was confused. I looked and saw 4 boats pulling way away into the vast lake from the island. I knew I had missed out. I had no idea how to get down there and it didn't seem to matter now anyway. I climbed down a ways and sat on a big rock and cried. I knew I would be fine, but I just...in that moment, well..I cried. I didn't want to stay the night on the island. I didn't have enough warm stuff and I just didn't want to. My stuff was in a hotel in Puno and I didn't want to pay for two nights (because I couldn't get back until the next night) in addition to paying for a night on the island or sleeping on the rocks. Besides, I would have to reclimb the whole thing to get to the other port!! Yeah. I cried.

As I was sitting there crying like a lost child, a little girl found me and with a quizzical look (in spanish) asked me what was the matter. I said I lost my way and she looked at me solemnly for a moment as I explained that I was going to the port but got lost and now I thought my boat had left without me. She didn't seem to think this was a problem. "No. I think it will be ok. There are other boats." She told me to follow and then took off like a little mountain goat. I tore after her, remembering my own girlhood racing through the woods with my little brother. She obviously knew every rock and tree on the island. I was just glad that I could keep up and keep my feet. At the top of the hill with a very direct path down to the port she left me.

I thanked her and asked her if she had ever heard of the country Nueva Zelanda. She shook her head no, and I explained how it was very far- half the world away, but that there were people there very much like her people and they had a tradition of wearing necklaces of bone in the shape of fish hooks- they believe that it brings good luck and safe travel, especially over water- for example when fishing. She took it looking at me as if I was a funny sort (I also gave her a sol) but vaguely interesting. She didn't laugh until I left her (Half of the island was laughing at me- but I didn't mind, cause I liked their faces better when they were laughing).

I tore past the few people on the island who hadn't seen the red-faced running gringa with her long red gypsy skirt tucked up into her belt on both sides (doubled up it was knee length), black shirt against white skin with breathless "Buenos tardes!" as I ran by. They all turned to watch my descent with goodnatured laughter. At the top of the lower half of the descent it was straight down. I could see my boat and I was pretty sure that they saw me...it took a long time down. They could see that I was running, but it still took a long time. I arrived just in the nick of time and collapsed in the boat in the shade breathing heavily and searching for my water. Everyone had lots of questions but laughed and agreed to wait until I could speak again.

I told the story and they were all very impressed that I ran the whole way. I should have been only a few minutes behind if I hadn´t gotten so lost. They were also impressed at how far it was from the top- they could see that I was running- the boat was leaving when someone saw me and realized I should be on the boat...they were watching my descent and kept wondering how long it would take.

I said that I was lucky- cause I was SOOOOOoooooooo happy to make the boat, and soooooo happy that I was in good enough shape to run up and down a steep 1200 meter rock and dirt path, and sooooo happy not to spend the night on the island...and they were just normal, ladi da...ok, on the boat...going back....grin.