Paseando entre muros eternos en Trujillo

September 11, 2009

We got up early and hailed a taxi to take us to the bus stop for the city of Huancavelica. Unluckily, the driver didn’t know the spot and so we ended up at the bus station for La Merced, known as the Station of the Andes. We asked there, and they told us where to go. The driver told us he had been away from Huancayo for some years and was a little lost. We found it funny because he called his mommy to make certain he got the direction right. In ten minutes, we were at the street where the buses leave for the city.

According to what we had read in the guidebook, there are two ways of reaching Huancavelica: one is to follow the highway and the other is to take a turnoff at one point along that road, which will lead you there as well. The advantage to the latter is that it affords you some wonderful sites you can’t see on the other.

We asked Jorge, and he told us there is a turnoff at the town of Palca, a dirt road through beautiful countryside. The only thing is that we had to talk to the driver first and agree to go that way. Also, there are buses that will take you to Huancavelica, but there is another means called “colectivos”, usually station wagons that leave for their destination when they are full. The trip is faster than a conventional bus yet a little more expensive.

When we arrived, at least five drivers approached asking where we were going. We told them we wanted to go to Huancavelica but along the dirt road. They told us it would be no problem as long as the other passengers agreed. They also offered to take us by ourselves and make stops along the way for photographs if we paid the equivalent of four passengers (100 Nuevos soles, 25 per person, or about $33.00).

We thought about it for a minute and then decided it was worth it. Five minutes later, we were on the road to Huancavelica at full speed. The driver told us trip time along this route would be almost the same as if we took the highway, about two and half hours.

The road snaked up the mountains. First we ascended and then descended. For awhile we followed the Mantaro River. One of the larger towns we drove through was Izcuchaca, and we could see the historic bridge from the car that was supposedly built by the Incas and defended by Huascar against troops sent by his brother Atahualpa during the Incan civil war that raged throughout the empire just after the Spanish had arrived.

We passed other, smaller towns, and one really caught our attention. The houses were all painted in vivid colors, some with designs on their walls. It is something you rarely see in Peru. The driver told us the town’s name is Cachillas Bajas and an NGO had bought the paints and supplies for the townspeople to liven up the place.

At last we made it to the turnoff, and we started the real journey through a narrow valley. There were a couple of tiny towns and plenty of small farms along the way. We were really struck by the people, though, women leading animals out to pasture, children walking for hours to reach school, and men working in the fields. It seems that time has stood still in the Andes. While the women shepherded, they used their time to knit with their babies held onto their backs by blankets.

When we reached the end of the valley, we passed through the last town and started to climb slightly until reaching the top. The sight was incredible: surrounded by mountains that surpassed 4000 meters and dotted here and there with flocks of llamas, alpacas, and sheep. We can’t describe how it made us feel. We started down the other side and at the bottom of the valley sat the city of Huancavelica, sheltered between steep mountains.

Once in Huancavelica, we drove to the Main Square where there was plenty of action, by the looks of things a folklore festival. There were many different groups of people dressed in the traditional and colorful outfits. We stopped by the local tourism office and met Candy Fanny and Fanny Susan, who kindly explained to us everything we could see in and out of the city. For curiosity’s sake, they also informed us that women we saw walking in their traditional clothing who had more flowers in their hats than others were the ones who had more desire to get married.

We strolled through downtown Huancavelica. It’s a small city, quiet and somewhat forgotten by the outside world since it is located high in the mountains. There are eight churches in town, and we toured San Sebastian, San Francisco, and Santo Domingo. Because the cathedral was closed, we were unable to enter. We also walked across the La Asencion Bridge built during the Spanish Colonial period.

Since we had to return to Huancayo today, we could not see the sights in the outskirts of town, like the Santa Barbara Mine, also known as the Mine of Death. It is an old mercury mine from the 16th century, and we were told the Indians sent to work there never came out again. Outside the mine sat the Santa Barbara Church, and, before going down into the mine, they held a mass of the dead for the miners as a group because they knew once inside they would never see the light of day again.

On the inside was an underground city, complete with houses, streets, and even a bullring, so they say, but now nothing remains. We were told the city wants UNESCO to declare it a World Heritage Site. Other places that would have been interesting to visit are some area hot springs: San Cristobal, Baños del Inca, and Tres Boas.

We ate lunch at a downtown restaurant and ordered a delicious dish called carnero al palo (spit roasted ram), not to mention pachamanca (pit roasted meats and vegetables). Drink of choice is chicha morada (purple corn juice). After lunch, the weather turned rainy, so we walked to the bus station to return to Huancayo.

We timed it just right because there was a bus from the TICLLAS company just about to depart. But at the first stop we were shocked when the bus picked up several passengers with tickets for the trip back. The company had double booked the bus, so the conductor/ usher patiently calmed down the angry people and found places for everyone. Nevertheless, there were some that had to stand for more than half the trip in the aisle.

Four hours later, we drove into Huancayo. We stopped by the Mercado del Artesano to purchase some souvenirs and ate dinner at a small restaurant called Cookie, next to the hotel. There they serve all types of sandwiches, hamburgers, turnovers, and pies. Very tasty, everything. Now it’s off to bed.