Adventures in Sleeping in the Peruvian Andes

“Sleeping in a hotel and a tent in the mountains shouldn’t be difficult, right? It doesn’t matter that the hotel and tent will be in the Peruvian Andes. This should be easy.” I deluded myself into thinking that before I left the United States for Peru. Boy, was I wrong! The simple act of sleeping challenged me during the 10 days I spent in Peru.

My first adventure in sleeping took place in a hotel in Huarez, Peru, nestled in the Peruvian Andes. Huarez is not a small town, and thus, I figured the hotels would be decent. Our hotel was not bad, but it had a few quirky qualities that kept reminding me that I was not at home anymore.

Want hot water 24/7? Then this may not be the hotel for you.

One of the most painful quirks was the lack of hot water. Strangely, our shower never had more than a pencil-width stream of water coming out of it, but it was also cold half of the time. There wasn’t a predictable pattern as to when the water would be cold and when it would be hot. In a few instances, there wasn't any water at all, but the hotel staff seemed to be able to fix that. We decided that if there was water and it was hot, then it was time to take a shower!

The particular room my husband and I bunked in allowed us to hear the conversation of our neighbors with startling accuracy. A morning conversation about bodily functions and intestinal distress left us laughing out loud. Poor Stephanie…we didn’t know who she was, but we learned a lot about her health issues that morning.

Street noise was also our constant companion. Loud singing, bands playing in nightclubs, and car horns honking provided a background for much of the night. We learned that Peruvians honk their car horns much more frequently than Americans do, but the honks aren’t necessarily angry honks, just attention getting honks.

Our first campsite, nestled in the mountains. Beautiful, but cold at night!

After leaving Huarez, we set out for the mountains. The main purpose of our trip was to hike in the mountains and distribute translated Bibles to the native people. While on the trekking part of the trip, we slept in tents. I am not a proficient tent sleeper, but I’m always up for an adventure, and I figured that tent sleeping in the Andes ranked in the adventure category.

We slept at elevations above 10,000 feet, and it dipped into the 30’s at night. During the day the sun was always out, and we were toasty warm. After the sun set, the temperature dropped rapidly. In the evening I wore two to three layers of clothes, plus a coat with a hat, scarf, and gloves. I then understood why the Peruvians chose to wear woolen clothes in those conditions. 

When it was bedtime, I still kept on two to three layers of clothes, plus my hat which was made from Alpaca wool. I had my sleeping bag, plus a fleece liner. In the four nights that we camped, I froze for three of them. My nose, the most exposed skin that I had, was the coldest part. Otherwise, I cocooned myself into the sleeping bag to stay warm.

Donkeys may look cute, but they are NOISY!

Being cold wasn’t my only challenge in the tents. It was noisy. I thought that sleeping in the mountains would be a quiet affair, but it was just as noisy as sleeping in Huarez because we were surrounded by the native peoples’ farms. Dogs seemed to be everywhere, and they barked all night long. One night a dog barked directly outside the entrance to my tent, which woke me from my sleep and set my heart thumping against my chest. Donkeys carried our gear in the mountains, so the braying of donkeys was another noise. Their braying is LOUD and long. The roosters started crowing around 4:00 a.m. and continued for hours. The entire group had something to say about the roosters, but our cooks solved the problem for us. They bought a rooster from one of the farmers, and we ate it for dinner that night. It was some of the best poultry we had!

Another night we were camped on a slope, and my sleeping back was made of slick fabric. It constantly slid down to the foot of the tent because my mattress pad was also smooth. I kept trying to scoot back up, but I was cocooned in my bag, so I wasn’t mobile. After a constant battle of sliding down and scooting up, I finally gave up the fight. By morning, I was sleeping in a pile at the foot of the tent.

The sun is starting to go down, and I'm getting cold. But,
it's all worth it for views like this!

After four nights of camping in the freezing cold, I was actually glad to go back to the hotel in Huarez with its lack of hot water, noise from the street, and talkative neighbors. Even though my sleeping wasn’t great for all those nights, all I could do was laugh about it. There’s nothing like having adventures in sleeping!

Guinea Pigs are Not Pets in Peru, They're Food!

Guinea pigs for sale in the market in Huarez, Peru.

Even though I had been to Peru before, I’d never had a chance to try one of their national dishes, the cuy. In America, it’s better known as a guinea pig. Yes, in Peru, guinea pigs are eaten, not kept as pets. My first trip to Peru had not afforded me the opportunity to taste guinea pig, but I felt certain that my second trip would have a guinea pig eating opportunity. And, I was right.

Before the moment for eating arrived, my group had visited a local market where guinea pigs were on display and ready to be sold. This wasn’t a tidy supermarket, as in the United States. It was an open air market where the stalls had no refrigeration, and the meat sat out all day with the organs and innards revealed just waiting for buyers. I saw multitudes of guinea pigs on display in that environment, and it certainly didn’t whet my appetite for the dish.





Guinea pigs on a plate!

On a Sunday afternoon, we made our way to a restaurant and recreational park on the outskirts of Huarez. This was a lovely place to spend a day. As we relaxed at the outdoor dining tables, we noticed an extensive playground for children, a swimming pool, and a stage for live bands. A walk to the back of the property revealed a rushing mountain stream along with views of the surrounding mountains. It was easy to relax and socialize in this setting. It was also a great place to order guinea pigs for lunch.

We ordered our meals, including several guinea pigs. We decided that we’d just share them amongst the group members. We treated them as if they were appetizers, but I wasn’t sure I’d have much of an appetite after ingesting a guinea pig.

Ready to eat...

It wasn’t long before the guinea pigs arrived at the table. They came with heads, arms and legs, claws, and teeth intact. They were arranged neatly on potatoes, but there was no mistaking the fact that we were about to eat rodents.

Our guides told us that the best way to eat them was to pick them up and gnaw away, just as one might dig into fried chicken. Forks and knives were not necessary in this instance because a typical guinea pig doesn’t contain much meat. It’s difficult to cut the meat with utensils. I still found the thought of gnawing on a guinea pig leg to be distasteful, so I used my knife and fork against the advice we were given.

Since everyone in the group was digging in, I took a deep breath and ate the guinea pig meat that I had on my fork. I expected a nasty experience, but I found the meat to have a mild flavor with the texture of chicken. It wasn’t disgusting, but I had trouble getting past the fact that I was eating a rodent. I didn’t devour an entire guinea pig, but I felt satisfied that I had eaten enough to qualify as a guinea pig eater.

Nope, I can't eat it this way. I have to use a fork!

Several of the more adventurous teens in the group decided to eat the guinea pigs’ eyeballs, but I didn’t go that far with my guinea pig eating. The claws of the guinea pig also provided some entertainment as various group members used them as toothpicks.

There are many times in life when I’ve said, “Never!” to myself. But this was one of those times where I felt like I had to jump in the pool. How many Americans can say they’ve eaten a guinea pig? Well, now I can, and it honestly wasn’t that bad!

The attached heads added to the "ick" factor.

 

Journey to Peru

In July, I had the privilege of traveling to Peru as part of a fourteen-member team from my church. Our mission was to journey into the Andes Mountains to deliver the recently translated New Testament to the Quechua people. This was not a tourist’s vacation, but it was a trip into remote areas to mingle with the native Peruvian people.

Our journey started in Lima, Peru, the entry point into the country for international travelers. Lima, a bustling city full of life, is like any big city around the world. It has its shining buildings reaching for the sky as well as its seedier, more destitute parts. There could be plenty of work to do in a city like Lima, but our final destination was more far-flung. We boarded a bus heading northwest into the Andes to the city of Huarez.



The main Plaza in Huarez

Huarez bustles along with a population of roughly 50,000 people. It sits at an elevation of 10,000 feet and is nestled neatly in between two major mountain ranges, the brown Cordillera Negra and the snowy Cordillera Blanca. Huarez isn’t a spit-and-polished typical tourist destination, although it serves as the home base for mountain explorers trekking up into the nearby peaks. In fact, Peru’s highest mountain, Huascaran, can be seen from Huarez itself.

Because of the rapid change in altitude when traveling from Lima to Huarez, altitude sickness is a danger. Anyone planning to exert themselves with strenuous exercise at those altitudes has to take time to adjust or face the possibility of altitude sickness. Cooling our heels for a few days in Huarez gave us a chance to adjust to the culture as well as the altitude. I had a harsh reality check for what was to come as we took a practice hike one day. A steep climb up into the hills of Huarez left my legs burning and my lungs wheezing. I realized why dealing with altitude was a big deal as my head spun and my stomach churned. This wasn’t like hiking at home!



Reality check! Practice hike in Huarez...10,000 feet is rough!

Finally, the day came for us to head out into the mountains. We planned to take a small bus to the first village on our schedule, and then for the next four days we would hike in between villages. At each village we’d distribute Bibles and other materials. We would also visit schools and meet with students. All of the materials we planned to distribute were translated into the Quechua language, the native language of the people in that region. This would be the first time that most of these people would ever have a Bible in their native tongue.

As we started up the mountain in our bus, I realized how far we were from home. The road was dirt. It was a switchback road, which kept us twisting and turning up the steep mountain. The road was mainly a one lane road, although two cars could fit alongside each other, if needed.  There were no guardrails on the side of the road. As we whipped along at what seemed to be a breakneck speed, I looked out my window to see a sheer drop down the side of the mountain. We met up with groups of sheep and cattle as the bus continued its journey up the mountainside. We gave them the right-of-way, which seemed to be the best choice.

Our first campsite...what a great view!

Finally, we were at the village and our first campsite. Farmers’ fields, built right onto the mountainside, surrounded us, as well as a beautiful mountain lake. Cordillera Negra was on one side of us and Cordillera Blanca was on the other. We could see Huascaran standing tall at its 22,205 foot majesty. We were miles from anything resembling a regular civilization, but as I stood on that mountain in Peru, I couldn’t imagine a better place to be.

Next week: Meeting the Quechua people