After a very long and exhausting day of boats, taxis, tuk
tuks, buses, and by foot, I finally arrived to the Bolivian border. Unfortunately, American citizens are
one of the only foreigners that have to pay for a visa to enter the country and it’s not cheap at
$160 USD. You can pay and fill out
all the necessary paperwork right there at a makeshift kiosk next door to the
border control. It was near sunset
so I just wanted to check into a room and pass the heck out. The vacation town of Copacabana is not
far from the border. It’s a
picture perfect, quaint-size lakeside town right on Lake Titicaca. Culturally identical to the Aymara
speaking population in Southern Peru, but due to modern nation states, these folks became Bolivians when split.
COPACABANA
At the lakes edge is backpacker central; a mix between South
American vacationers, wealthy Bolivians, and the hippier backpackers from
Europe. There are blocks and blocks of cheap hotels, even cheaper hostels, cafes, international
restaurants, tour agencies, and gift shops to spend your time. I was relieved because my body was telling me to rest and
just catch up on reflecting over my trip for a day or two. I had been pushing myself the past week
and felt this was the perfect place to have some beer, pasta, and meet chat with some travelers for a few days.
 |
| plenty of backpackers in Copacabana |
I met a friendly street vendor who spoke great
English. He also owns a
hotel/hostel nearby, so I decided not to waste anytime. Kindness should be rewarded, right? I checked into his spartan hotel. My room was extremely basic, but I wasn’t complaining
because I hadn’t taken a warm shower in over a week. Five minutes of hot water is worth its weight in gold when you haven't had it in a week. Afterwards, I ordered a homemade soup to warm up as the
temperature dropped with the Sun. It was deliciously perfect.
THE OTHER REASONS I
TRAVEL
I headed out and walked along the promenade by the lake’s edge toward the town and was drawn to two indigenous statues by the lake. I felt a strong urge to pay respect to these two giant bronze statues of Pachamama and
Pachatiti (Mother Earth and Father Earth) for the abundance of beauty and
gifts they have given and continue to give us. I stood there staring in wonderment of how tragic the legacy
of colonization and slavery has had on the indigenous people here. In North America, we have countless
statues dedicated to the European conquerors that pillaged, displaced, and committed
genocide on the grounds of freedom and Manifest Destiny.
 |
| Pachamama & Pachatiti |
I’m a descendant of those conquerors. That, I can never change. This trip was just as much about
atonement as much as it was about adventure and feeding my spirit. Like conquistadors, us foreigners come
from afar for adventure, but replaced swords with cash, armor with backpacks, and greed for a
better understanding of the past and respect for the “otherness” of a people we dismissed as inferior. I can only hope that the future will prove
we can live more peacefully and harmonious with the First People and the land. Paying respect to their culture and spending hard cash is the least I could do…
Copacabana was unbelievably cold for a place that doesn’t snow. My hopes of “chilling” were more real
than I hoped for. So, I decided after
dinner that I’d pass on "chilling" in Copacabana and go ahead and head out on the
earliest boat for the Isla del Sol two and a half
hours away.
ISLA DEL SOL (ISLAND
OF THE SUN)
There are some places in the world that just seem to have
been created specifically as nature’s monument to herself. A place that forces people to recognize
that there are in fact, higher spiritual powers than any skyscraper or cathedrals that humanity can
build. The Andean people here believed
that this six by nine kilometer island is the place the Sun was
born.
 |
| Isla del Sol |
Imagine, a small mountainous
island with seven peninsulas stretching out in every which way like octopus
tentacles. Blue waters
surrounding, contrasting with six, icy six thousand meter high Andean peaks on
the distant perimeter. A Sun that rises
and sets, creating a kaleidoscope of colors every day before it departs. No doubt, this can only be a place
where a God would be born.
CHALLAPAMPA VILLAGE
I arrived by boat to the small village of Challapampa on the
furthest end of the island. There,
the villagers greeted us travelers with offers to rent a private room in their homes. I quickly picked a room and headed out
to explore the village. There were
only two dirt roads in this village that made up the main streets. There was a lots of construction going on. This was a quaint village transitioning into a boomtown. I
guess they have realized that eco/cultural tourism will be the main moneymaker
going forward. Despite, the frenzy
a tourist boat of forty creates; the town doesn’t offer anything in
comparison to Copacabana back on the mainland. There are only three small restaurants and no proper hotels. The two convenient stores are just wooden
kiosks selling simple toiletries, soda, water, chips, beer, and maybe some wine.
The main attraction in town is a sandy half moon cove that
feels like you’re on a beach rather than a lake. I bought a few canned beers and found a spot on the
sand to kick it. I couldn’t help but chuckle
at the sight of the occasional pig, dog, cat, cow, donkey, seagull, duck, and
sheep, visiting the lake for a drink of fresh water as backpackers took a dip in the cold waters.
WHERE THE SUN WAS
BORN
There are Incan ruins nearby on the northeast peninsula that
I heard were worth a visit, so I decided to head out for a hike before the
sunset. It was an easy one-hour
uphill walk to reach the furthest point. Passing the occasional farm with squealing pigs and
downtrodden donkeys, the path gave way to stubby bushes infested with thick
spider webs. After carefully navigating through nature's barbwire, I finally reached the furthest point of the peninsula and just sat and embraced this rare
occasion.
For thousands of years, this place was a destination for
pilgrims who had come to the place they believed gave birth to the Sun and for
me, it felt no different. To my
surprise, I was completely alone.
This has been a rarity in my travels to come to such a place and not
have another soul in sight. I
cherished the aloneness like a monk meditating. I soaked in the last rays of the sun like a painter painting
the last strokes of a masterpiece.
What a spectacle! I could yell at the top of my lungs, so I did. I could throw rocks off the cliff like a child with no ego,
so I did. I could sit with
appreciation like a man given a second chance at life. So I did.
I stayed until the sun disappeared and cautiously started to
hike back and to my surprise, a full moon was just rising over the
horizon. I couldn’t have asked for
a better companion for the hour hike back to the village. Grabbed a quick
dinner of local trout at one of the restaurants and called it a night. Wow… what an day!
I woke up early, just as the Sun returned and was on my way
for a ten-kilometer hike to the other side of the island. The air was crisp and cool, just enough
to keep me from sweating or shivering as I ascended the highest slopes of the island,
which allowed me to see all sides.
It was the perfect hike. Three
hours along a portion of the Incan Trail, passing a couple hamlets and farms,
with the occasional hiker coming from the other direction. The views were breathtaking. I finally arrived to the village of
Yumani. As I started to descend
from 4,000 meters, the euphoria I had been feeling had given way to the pain pulsating in
my knees. From Yumani, I returned
by boat to Copacabana where I spend one more night before my bus ride to the
Bolivian capital of La Paz.
No comments:
Post a Comment