Today we are in Arequipa, and everything is calm.
Our trip to Peru began fairly uneventfully. We arrived in Lima late Monday night, the airport was crowded but not overly so. Harris and I both thought we had altitude sickness, but it turns out lima´s at sea level. Even so, we were both light headed...most likely residual fogginess from the flight and grandparent overload. Within the first 15 mins at the baggage claim, H lost his phone. When i went to ask the security officers if there was a lost and found, struggling to regain what semblance of Spanish aptitude I have leftt, they laughed in my face. The phone was gone. Despite that downfall, the night went well. Amid the hundreds waiting to greet travellers outside customs, we spotted a gentleman carrying a ´Tova Goodman´sign. I was far moe excited about this than I should have been, but hey, I thought I was light headed from the altitude.
Our hotel was a lovely b and b run by Walter and his wife (she didnt show her face much). He was one of the most genteel, friendly gentlemen I have met. We had 2 fellow travellers, one from Paris and one from Barcelona (the only 2 cities Ive visited in Europe!) who were very friendly and good to chat with. Raphael, the frenchman, joined us for dinner the following night. H and explored Lima the first day, with mixed results. Its a grey city, with some beautiful old buildings and some fairly ugly new ones. Its full of deisel and honking and billboards just like any city.
The third day we took a bus to Pisco. It took roughly 4 hrs on a fairly luxurious coach, including blaring radio and dvds of
Are We Done Yet and
Shallow Hal. The bus drops you on the highway in Pisco where tour guides and taxi drivers attack you with their services. We found a taxi that seemed fairly priced and headed to El Chacho (as per the guide book) which was supposed to be more tranquil and pretty than Pisco. The book suggested a hotel that was at the end of a long dusty road, and we took the suggestion. When we arrived it seemed we were the only guests there. A very friendly manager/handyman greeted us and ushered us with a smile to our room.
The place was indeed desserted. But very beautiful. The back of the rooms had little porches facing the ocean, with lawn chairs and umbrellas strewn about on the grass beyond. There was one other couple there, seated on their cabana. We nodded to each other but didnt strike up any conversation. We were alone. We ate dinner alone; the waiter carefully placing each object on the table with utmost care. He reminded me of the toy cleaner from Toy Story 2. As we were the only guests, he showered us with attention and pìsco sours.
As we were finishing our meal and contemplating another drink, the ground started to shake. Neither of us was sure if it was an earthquake, a truck or maybe the generator bubbling. The waiter didn´t seem worried. Then his expression changed. I remeber H said out loud, "Is this an earthquake?" and I just ran. I ran to the doorway, like I had been told. Harris ran around the building with the waiter, or maybe it was with the handyman (wish i had gotten his name!). H started yelling my name, but for some reason was yelling it with an accent, so I thought it was someone else yelling. I didn´t answer. I was paralyzed. The shaking continued and I didn´t want to move from where I had been taught was the safest place during an earthquake. The lights went out and I couldn´t see. We had been dining outside on a pàtio next to the pool, and the pool was sloshing water all around, soaking everything. Finally, when H called my name again, I ran to the ground where he, the handyman, and the woman who worked behind the counter were down on the grass. They pushed me down and the shaking continued. The woman was very upset. She kept saying "que fuerte."
Finally the shaking stopped. The handyman laughed as if nothing had happened. "Todo tranquilo" he kept saying. The rest of us were litterally shaken. As the aftershocks continued, H and I asked for 4 beers and returned to our room in the dark, the handyman leading the way with a flashlight. I had luckily brought a headlamp and a flashlight which we used to illuminate our night filled with tremors, beer, cards and fear. I´ll post Pictures and video of the night when I can. Ar one point we heard a sound like a truck coming from the ocean, and I flipped out. Oh great, now comes the tsunami, I thought. There was a huge wave, but luckily, it didn´t reach our room. We only found out the next day that it had reached far up on shore in the adjoining area of Paracas. It had blasted widows and doors out of buildings that faced the ocean, and covered the town (little stores, restaurants etc) in a lthick layer of seaweed. I mad Harris leave the room when I thought the wave would come for us, and every sound from then on was magnified in both our minds. The other couple was nowhere to be found. We took a couple of expeditions around the hotel, one for water (con gas), one to avoid the wave I thought was coming, and a few to check out the water level when we heard the sea retreat. Another worker came and showed us how far the sea had risen....about halfway up to our room. A fitfull night of sleep with many, many tremors followed.
This was a fairly peaceful night compared to what we learned had happened to the other couple. They spent the night huddled on a hill abouve the town with the other villagers, with only one blanket between them. They just barely escaped the wave when someone in truck scooped them up. We spent a shaky breakfast of toast and tea with them (they still served us breakfast! despite the lack of electricity and running water!) and they recounted everything that had happened. They were from London and had a flight out the next day. They each told their version of the story...she with a frightened but lucid voice and he with the accent of Ozzy Ozzbourne. As we talked I was thinking we´d all be stuck and would spend the day hanging by the half-sloshed-out pool, because the couple said the road was flooded. But then the real hotel manager arrived in an SUV and offerered to take us to nearby Paracas to call home. The phone didnt work there--the lines were all down. There was seaweed over everything and walls down all over the place. At this point the manager explained that we should get out of there asap. He offered to take us and the couple to the highway for free. He was EXTREMELY helpful. He ended up taking us all to the main road, where the London couple had to find a way north, and we were headed south. The bridge outside Pisco had apparently collaspsed, so the traffic was backed up going north. Our journey wasnt too hard. The manager hugged us and refused money for the drive. we flagged down a bus to Ica and took the hour ride without incident.
Once in Ica we started to see th damage that had been done. Buildings down. No electricty. No water. Few phones. Hundreds at the bus terminal trying to get out. Many wrere casually walking around---what else was there to do? It wasnt a work day. One man said the electricity would surely be off for at least 4 more days. We saw a crushed car on one street, and people with all their belongings gathered on the streets outside what was once their homes. We waited in line at the bus terminal only to learn that those buses didnt go to Arequipa, where we needed to go next. We wandered around, trying to find a bus that did. Finally we found one that left at 7pm. We only had 7 hrs to kill in earthquake ravaged Ica til then.
We decided to take a taxi out of town, where there is a lake surrounded by dunes and hotels and mas tranquilidad. Originally we were going to stay there and sandboard down the dunes and hang with a bunch of backpackers, but there was no electricity or water there either, so we decided to spend several hours in the calm and then return for our bus. What a contrast from the dusty streets of Ica teeming with people to the lake in the middle of the dessert teeming with gringos! We hadn´t eaten (but for one piece of toast at breakfast), and this lucky spot had the one operating restaurant for miles! Put out food and the expats will come. I had the best grilled fish with garlic and rice of my life. And an avocado, tomato and cucumber salad that had me throwing all my dietary rules out the window. Delicious. We hung for a whilñe by the sand dunes inrelative quiet, watching people board down kicking up great clouds of dust. It felt wrong to do any boarding at that point, considering that state of things.
Just when I was feeling guilty for so easily escaping to paradise, we returned to Ica to spend the next 6 hours huddled in a small store/home/bus station with 30 or so Peruvians, awaiting the 7pm bus. Everyone at the station was exteremely nice, esp. considering many had lost their homes and possibly family or friends. We fell in and out of sleep, shivering as the cold desert night descended. People huddled under blankets and held their children close. The bus finally came at 12am, held up by the bridge collapse in Pisco. We staggered onto the double decker sleeper and fell into deep, if disturbed slumber. In the morning, 7am or so, we awoke to the sounds of Homer Simpson´s Spanish doppelganger and his illegally pirated ilk on DVD.
12 hours after leaving Ica, The bus rose and descnded the mountains to Arequipa, where there are articles all over the paper and red cross workers in the square...but otherwise its as placid as can be. People here have been through earthquakes as well, but even they are shocked by what those on the coast are facing. Terremoto is the word on everyones lips...and H and I will see what we can do to help, if anything. I´m glad we´ve made it out, and I shudder to complain given that I still have my health and home, and I don´t live in the dire poverty that many who suffered the earthquake do. Tomorrow we´ll head back to talk with the Peruvian Red Cross to see what we could give that would be helpful. I think canned goods and dry foods would be the best, given that most food has spolied and there may not be electricty for awhile. Meanwhile, H and I are planning a trip to Colca canyon, which will likely be considerably posh and lovely and far from tragedy. We certainly are very lucky and I´m thankful for that.
But i´m getting ahead of myself. We arrived in Cusco to a wonderful Hostel with the only drawback being our room had a window that opened to the public area instead of the outside. After a 12 hr or so bus ride, who cares where you stay really, but this place was nice. Cusco is THE tourist center of Peru, the gateway to Macchu Picchu. It´s a beautiful mountain city with red tile roofs everywhere and steep hills that would have been harder to climb had we not acclimatized more in Arequipa. We stayed in San Blas, the 'artistic' center of Cusco, which as far as I could tell just meant the chachka shops were more tastefully disguised in pretty stone boutique'ish stores. But still, it´s quite lovely there. Had some great food in Cusco too, though the residual traveller´s sickness still haunted me. We went to THE nicest restaurant in Cusco, at least according to the books, but I couldn´t fully enjoy it. Good though. well worth the not-expensive-by-new-york-standards prices.
