Out of Humous: Cusco

Northern Chile was nicer than I expected. As an Israeli I was a little sceptical about desert tourism. I lived in the Negev, visited the ruins of Nabatian cities Shivta and Nitsana and rode Camels near Eilat. Taking a self guided bike tour with my English companion Davina, I learned that there is, as always, more to see.

We left the tourist-swarming dusty village of San Pedro de Atacama and shortly found the remains of the long-lasting Atacamian culture. The Atacamians survived many attacks until they were occupied by the Inca empire and, a few years after at its fall, by the Spanish. A recently built observation point overlooks the former Atacamian plains, mountains and rivers.

At its peak, in Spanish, is the the universally applicable quote: "My god, my god, why have you forsaken me."

Entering Peru turned out to be more challenging than I expected. Like many other bordering countries, Chile and Peru have their disagreements. The Israeli reader might find a familiar pattern here, as the Peruvians claim historic title to territories currently held by Chile. The bus I took was meant to cross to Peru, but the Chilean authorities stopped it due to alleged violent disturbances on the Peruvian side which they said might jeopardize the passengers and the vehicle.

Some of the passengers turned back. I stamped my passport and started crossing the territory between the border points on foot. When I got to the Peruvian border it was as quiet at the ruins I have seen the day before. The "risk" feared by the Chileans turned out to be a road block on the way to Cusco, a city more than a night's ride away. In the meantime I visited Arequipa, an old city surrounded by mountains and archaeological sites.

My next stop would be Cusco, in which I spent over a month, and from which I embarked on tour and trek to Machu Picchu, the mountains and the Peruvian jungle.

Cusco is a fascinating place. Former heart of the Inca empire, it now thrives on the very elements that let to its past suffering. With no Spaniards around (and those who come are sometimes held accountable for the region's bloody past) Cusco offers a unique combination of a big and small town, with a relaxed atmosphere alongside cool clubs and bars, a colorful market cohabiting with well maintained plazas, and architecture that contains both the Inca ruins and catholic churches.

 
Israel also merged into Cusco. Hebrew street signs, Israeli restaurants with Hebrew menus, Internet with Hebrew keyboard, Israelis running tourism and dining businesses, Hebrew speaking DJs, dance teachers, bartenders and clerks are only part of Israel's presence in this city. Mixed Israeli Peruvian couples are also in evidence.
 
Eventually everyone meets in Cusco. I met travel buddies I had not seen for months. Being such a tourist center, Cusco is a good place to exchange books, get medical treatment, take salsa classes and enjoy concerts and varied food, and its also a good starting point for many treks.
 
In the streets of Cusco you come across stubborn vendors, shoe shiners, religious parades, food stands that offer everything up to roasted guinea pigs, young and old women with traditional clothing that invite you to have your picture taken with them and their baby Alpaca, psychedelic drug preachers, club promoters, restaurant pushers and street artists. Even at night you would never walk alone. The person next to you might offer you drugs, or try to rob you. Try to avoid both.
 

Take a seat at the nice central plaza, and within five minutes you'll get offers to buy pictures, paintings, hats, scarves, jewelry, sweets, cigarettes and excursions. People need to make a living. Not all appear to have that need, though. If you look hard enough you'll find people following rugged traditional customs living in the city's outlying areas. "They serve the land," explained a local friend, but what the nature of this service was she didn't know.

 
I spent some time at the food market, at one particular fresh fruit juice stand. As I sampled juices made from less "orthodox" ingredients, such as alfalfa, aloe vera and local products like Agarobina, I observed the market people as they handled their affairs, and learned something. The Cusqunios do not shout and do not raise their voices. It seems like when they come across a dispute or disagreement there is a fundamental understanding that the problem is shared by both parties, and they will both try to find a solution. Together. Aggravation is therefore seen as something absolutely useless.
 

I played it the Cusqunian way. It worked - at least with Cusquenians. It also felt nicer for everybody. I offer you this concept, friends, free of charge, for the coming year. May it be a year of peace.