Humahuaca...Paradise Found...

I've spent the last week or so in Humahuaca, a small desert pueblo in northern Argentina...without (sit down for this) ....internet....

-gasp-

I've loved every minute of it.

When I arrived in Argentina, after walking the border from Villazon in Bolivia to La Quica in Ar, I met a lovely journalist (I mean lovely in a masculine way of course) who insisted that I go to Iruya (pronounced Irusha) - he went on and on about the way of life in the canyons there, and how beautiful it was. To get there, I had to take a bus from Humahuaca. Hmmm. Convincing, but I had already purchased my ticket to Salta and, well, I've seen a lot of deserts and canyons in my life, and besides, I'm on a budget. Maybe next time.

When I arrived in Salta it was very late, and the only other people on the bus were David (from Suffolk, England) and Maurice (from Germany). The three of us shared a room and spent the next day in Salta together. They were charming, intelligent and generally lovely (again- in the masculine sense ;-P )

David insisted that I go to Huamahuaca. Wasn't that forceful about Iruya, but really went on and on (and on) about the beauty of the canyons and the desert there. Hmmm. I really have seen a lot of canyons and deserts- Mojave Desert, White Sands, NM, Canyon National park in Utah, the GRAND CANYON, the Rio Grande...and so on. However, since two completely unrelated strangers insisted that I go to this place, I have rules about signs from God and so forth...so I agreed to go. My bus left at either 5.30 or 6am the morning after I said goodbye to my new friends.

At 5am...I rolled over and went back to sleep for another 5 hours...with gusto.

At the bus station in the afternoon, I was very tempted to just go to my original destination of Cafayate (wine area) as the bus was sooner than the one to Humahuaca. The deciding factor is that I will see David in a few more weeks when I return to England and he's sure to ask....sigh. So, I went just to prevent awkward explanations later.

When I arrived to Humahuaca, it was late and a sweet-faced kid asked if I was looking for an hospedaje and I said yes. Others asked me after that, but I felt kind of loyal to the first kid, so when he was finished, off we went to the house of Carmen.

I arrived in a bit of a daze, bleary-eyed and confused. Carmen later said I looked half dead and she was sure that I would be asleep within minutes. There were quite a few people there that night and they were having a barbecue to which I was then invited.

In Argentina they eat everything about the cow. The jowls in particular are considered a real treat. Less appetising was the intestines, cleaned and braided. I tried everything, and then was invited to another barbecue in a different house, same night. This house was full of artisans (hippies for some of you) and there was much drinking of cheap wine from makeshift cups made of plastic soda bottles with the tops sawed off, and chewing of coca leaves. The artisans kept pouring wine on the ground and yelling "to *Pacha Mama!". This was also followed by throwing of coca leaves and sometimes food to the ground with the same exclamation. Hmm. Drunks. Strange. I returned home at roughly 4am.

The first morning I arose a little bleary-eyed, but anxious to go for a walk in the desert with Carolina (my Dutch roommate in the hospedaje). We were kind of slow at getting ready, and then we went for breakfast stuffs. Bread, cheese, juice and mate were the items of choice. Back at the hacienda, Sebastien (with a beard) and Carmen (house of Carmen) shared what we had, as we sat in the center courtyard of the house in the semi-shade of the blooming cherry tree. After breakfast we partook of **Mate- a ritual here. By 3pm or so we were ready for a walk.

On the way, we met Sebastian (beardless) who joined us. I walked mostly in silence, as I never understand very much my first couple of days in a country. Sebastian (beardless) walked next to me and chatted in a friendly manner. Later on, as we were on the white cliffs, Sebastien (bearded) and Caroline became a little more amiable and I thought it best to leave them in peace. Sebastian (beardless) was a level or two above the blossoming couple, and I joined him. We sat for hours -sometimes in long relaxed silences and sometimes in conversation. After a few hours he looked down and announced, "Se fue". (They left) Oh. OK. He then sat down again and we continued on for another couple of hours or so until the sun set, at which time we headed back to the pueblo.

**Mate? Mate is a tradition that has been handed down from the Gauchos. They were very poor of course, and tea is very expensive, so they made theirs up from a grand mixture of herbs in a cup made from (this part I'm not REALLY clear on- cause my explanations were all in spanish and the vocabulary was difficult)- the cups are made from a type of gourd, which is hollowed out, cured and maybe a design is put on it. You then fill the cup with the herb mixture until it's almost full, add a long silver tube with a filter on the end to keep out the tea. This is a kind of straw. Add hot water to the mixture and you take the first cup- this is because the first cup is really strong, and maybe a little foul tasting. The next cup is better and you serve another person. There is only one server. When that person finishes, you must listen for the sound of them finishing and be ready to serve the next person. The cup continues around the group in order, each person taking one cupful in their turn.

When a gaucho offered you mate, you did not refuse. the symbology is that they were offering you everything that they had. When you have had enough mate, you simply say, "Gracias". This signals the server to stop serving you.

- you can imagine the surprise of many when they say gracias the first time out of reflex, and then they never get any more!

The second day, Sebastian (beardless) and I took another walk in the desert, this time in a different direction. His neighbor's hairless Peruvian dog followed us the whole way (a couple of hours). As we walked, he told me about the different cactuses in the area, and the history of the region. When we reached our destination we sat for an hour or two and waited for the sunset. After the sunset we remained and waited for the stars, which we counted one by one until the magic moment when there are suddenly so many that you can't possibly count them. It was beautiful. The hard part was picking our way down the ground-cactus covered hill to the road. (I was wearing hiking SANDALS). He was a wonderful guide, holding my hand on the way back and lending support - I have very little night vision and could see nothing but the sky...which sparkled like a million diamonds.

As we got closer to Humahuaca, even he had a hard time seeing, cause the glaring of the lights from the Pueblo made it almost impossible. Just as we stopped to gather ourselves for a minute and rest our eyes from the glaring city lights, swearing at techonology....there was a blackout. Suddenly we were once again alone with the sky. We couldn't believe our luck!

The rest of the journey was much easier in the dark. On the edge of town he led me through a maze of obscured cobblestone stairs, and once we had cleared them and walked a ways, he turned me around and motioned upwards. Against the magical starry sky was the town monument- it took my breath away to see. A moment later, the streetlights lit up the street once more.

The third day.. we left early in the morning on a pilgramage to a sacred place in the desert dedicated to Pacha Mama.

*Who is Pacha Mama?

When the Spaniards came to this land and threatened death to anyone who didn't convert to Christianity, the people in this area said, "Ok, we're Christians" and then continued with their lives and what they believed. They had a goddess, "Pacha Mama", the mother earth which they worshipped. As Christians they might do anything without fear of eternal damnation- but they wouldn't DARE to cross Pacha Mama. Anything you have, you are supposed to share. Wine, food, cigarettes, everything. If you anger Pacha Mama, your life is in danger of terrible and torturous death or sickness. This continues to this day. My companion will often first light one cigarette, make a little pile of dirt and let the earth smoke it. For Pacha Mama. In some places are shrines of rocks piled deliberately and offerings left for her. You can also put a rock on one of these shrines, but you do it with two hands.

The shrine.. we journeyed to was about a 3 hour walk, climbing two or three different hills at about 500-800 meters high, at an altitude of 3800 meters. Sometimes we had to stop to breathe. The air is more than a little thin up there.

Along the way we encountered some ancient drawings from the pre-incan peoples that lived in the area. I took photos, which I later showed to the curator of the local archeology museum- she was overwhelmed with excitement, but very sad that it would be difficult if not impossible for her to collect them for preservation (she had two rocks with similar drawings) due to the length and difficulty of the walk to reach them.

The beautiful thing about walking with Sebastian is that he's like me- he stops and looks at everything and touches them, picking up rocks just to see what they're made of. For him, the journey is more important than the destination- as it is with me. It reminds me of my family. We're definitely kindred spirits in this. It would drive other people crazy the way we're always stopping to put our hands to the earth to feel the energy, or picking up rocks just to touch them and observe their size and shape and contemplate their existence...but for us it's very peaceful.

One summit before the final one, we stopped for lunch. He surprised me by pulling out a pan and cooking the most incredible pasta with baked chicken, grinding up some rock salt with a couple of stones that were handy, and hand squeezing orange juice for the both of us!! Needless, to say, lunch was fabulous.

At the shrine, we stayed two or three hours in the semi- shade of a thorn bush just watching the desert before making the long trek back past a total of 7 or so wild burros snorting their discontent at our presence.

The rest of my days.. have been spent in bliss. I walk in the desert everyday for hours and hours, usually with Sebastian. I've also passed many hours in the courtyard of Carmen just taking mate, playing guitar, sleeping in the semi-shade or just watching the blue sky through they boughs of the blooming cherry tree while listening to the buzzing of the bees. The people are welcoming, relaxed and the healing energy of the place just reverbates from the earth in such a way that I've never experienced - at least not so fully.

Nina (the dog from day two) has taken to following me about the town, generally causing trouble in her wake. She lets me know that she's there by jumping up and hitting my back with her nose and nipping at my scarf and jacket. She's twice the size of a chihuahua, with a hide the color and texture of an elephant and a small tuft of wiry black hair on the tip of her tail and the cap of her head. She's an ugly dog as dogs go, and that's the truth- however, I find myself attached to her despite myself. The other day she followed me for an hour through the markets and shops (oh...the trouble), running behind the counters, nipping at meats and fruits and receiving the occasional sharp kick from the shopkeepers. In one shop the keeper asked me if she was mine, and I hung my head in shame- "no, she just follows me, sometimes for hours..." Fortunately, he thought that was pretty funny and we were on our way.

The fruits and vegetables here are fresh, organic and full of flavor. The water is not only potable, but from beneath the mountains and delicious. The people are relaxed and friendly and the artisans are truly talented. I've spent the last couple of nights in the house of one such, and he made an anklet and necklace to fit me specially- they're made of alpaca (a metal- similar to silver) and the needles from cactuses. I hope they take with them, some of the energy of this desert that I've grown to love so much.

I have decided to spend the rest of my time in Argentina in Humahuaca, except for my last week in Buenos Aires. Special thanks to David. I wasn't as impressed with the canyons as you were, but the energy is truly special, and just what I needed after the difficult times I had in Peru. Thank you.

I'll tune back into the internet in a couple of weeks as I return to the world I've forgotten (the one with technology and cars). Peace be with all of you.