The first involuntary reaction to the lake's name is programmed by its, to put it mildly, peculiar name. The last two words in Spanish mean the same as in Russian. Hence the various jokes of the locals, that is, Peruvian-Bolivian wits. In Peru I happened to hear the saying that the part of the lake called 'Titi' is on their territory, and all the rest is in Bolivia. Bolivians repeat this 'common truth' verbatim, but in their favor. And only after getting acquainted with Lake Titicaca do the adolescent associations, as if after hypnosis, completely disappear.
What we think and know
Titicaca is the greatest of the high-mountain lakes of the world! The navigable salt water body in the Central Andes is located on the border of Peru and Bolivia at an altitude of 3,812 meters above sea level, covers an area of 8,300 square kilometers, and the depth reaches 304 meters (for comparison, the deepest lake in the world, Baikal, has an area of 31,500 square kilometers).
The clean and piercingly turquoise-blue waters of the lake are always cold (a constant temperature of 11 degrees Celsius is maintained all year round), so the bright sun and lovely shoreline landscapes are very deceptive. In the first half of the day the lake surface is usually calm, and in the second half large waves may appear. Local sailors accurately predict weather changes and try to spare tourists from the exhausting rocking.
The Incas revered the lake as sacred. Legends were told about it as the cradle of the most significant Indian civilization. For a long time it was believed that a ritual golden chain of the Incas weighing 1,800 kilograms was sunk here to avoid falling into the greedy hands of the Spanish conquistadors. While studying the lake, Jacques Yves Cousteau did not find gold, but did discover a giant (up to 60 centimeters in length) tricolor frog.
The Uros Floating Islands
Arrival in the city of Puno was marked by settling into a very cozy hotel standing on the shore of Lake Titicaca. Bodies chilled on the high-altitude altiplano were warmed by the fire in the fireplace and hot tea, and the panoramic picture in the window of the room lulled us with the silvery surface of the lake. In the morning we were to go on a trip to the floating reed islands. Actually, there are more than thirty islands in the lake, but the floating ones are an obligatory tourist attraction.
The charm of the trip was that after a long bus ride we were to spend a whole day in the fresh air on the water. Even during breakfast, from the window of the restaurant we watched the arrival of a slow little launch to the small pier of the hotel. Travelers were offered a cabin with soft side benches, an open stern, and the roof of the boat with benches, as well as soft mattresses with which we occupied cozy nooks of the little vessel. Our brown-faced helmsman remained delicately imperturbable all the time. A detailed listing of even the most unassuming amenities of the trip is extremely necessary to convey the sharp contrast with what we saw.
The first floating island of the Indians looked like a huge raft of reeds, the randomly scattered stems of which formed a fairly dense cushion. Houses with gable roofs and cone-shaped 'wigwams' were also made of reeds. Children were running around the island... And here came the thought of the amazing ability of man and his organism to adapt to the most extreme environmental conditions. After all, it was not enough to invent and create an island and dwellings from available building material; here it was also necessary to survive. It is believed that only the black blood of the Uros allows one to withstand cold nights on the lake. True, the last pure-blooded Uro died in 1959, and the islands are inhabited by descendants of the Uro, Aymara, and Quechua Indians, persistently observing the traditions of their ancestors.
Moving on the mobile substrate inspired slight apprehension that the foot must necessarily sink into the thickness of the reeds. But each time the formed dent was smoothly smoothed out, the traces disappeared. The island is held in place by an anchor, the role of which is played by a huge stone. If necessary, the island drifts freely. For full immersion in local exoticism, three daredevils from our group were delivered to the next object on a powerful five-meter reed boat, which a young charming girl handled with ease. We were even allowed to steer with one oar - the boat moved on the principle of a gondola.
Island of Weavers Taquile
We extended the trip planned by the program on our own for another half a day. This pleasure cost each of us $20 (the host company in Lima offered the service for $44). The only thing we could regret was that we did not manage to get a fast boat.
Taquile Island is real solid ground that must be conquered: the village is located at an altitude of 3,995 meters above sea level, that is, in rarefied air space, from the shore there is a pedestrian ascent of another 183 meters. In high-altitude conditions this is quite difficult and occurs with many stops. Usually guests climb up a gentle serpentine road, and descend 500 steps. The local population with heavy bundles runs up the shortest road with enviable speed and endurance.
Once the island was a colonial estate and even a prison. But the islanders managed to regain their ancestral lands, and since 1970 they have been engaged in tourism and weaving business.
Almost all men on the island knit with knitting needles; the process takes place both indoors and outdoors. The distinctive clothing of the Taquileans is bright knitted cone-shaped caps, like Buratino's. When necessary, the long cone is deftly turned into a convenient visor. We saw all the options for using the cap on our boatman. By the color and pattern of the headdress, one can learn a lot about a person's social and family status. For example, unmarried men wear caps with white tassels, and married men with red ones. And if a hat is put on top of the cap, that is already a big boss. The color of the belts corresponds to a certain time of year.
There is no Islam on the island, but women of all ages wear large black shawls draped over their heads and covering half their bodies, while wearing skirts just below the knee in very bright colors. But the most striking thing is that all females, even the smallest girls, speak only in whispers all their lives.
In the cold regions of Peru, the male population wears knitted helmet-like caps covering the ears (this fashion has been adopted by our youth of both sexes), and women wear men's hats or bowlers. The headgear on Taquile Island is a unique phenomenon for the whole country, not to mention the female whisper.
Island of the Sun
Bolivia got the island on which, according to Inca belief, their forebears Manco Capac and Mama Ocllo, sent by the sun god, emerged from the waters of Lake Titicaca.
The island is mountainous, with lush vegetation, another Inca staircase of stone blocks with 205 steps, along which the purest water flows in a directed waterfall. The Indians understood that water is life and knew how to provide it for themselves.
The island is a place of pilgrimage for tourists, so it has been turned into a kind of open-air museum with an extensive exhibition. In the terraced gardens of Inca times, next to each type of plant there is a nameplate. On a "loom" consisting of several sticks and stakes driven into the ground, in full view of meticulous sightseers, woolen tapestries are made right on the grass. A young woman winding woolen thread on a spindle presented a series of thirty samples of edible seeds, which were arranged in pouches and ceramic bowls like a wooden shelving unit.
In a small pen we were finally lucky to see a live elegant vicuña - a cloven-hoofed animal about 1.5 meters long from the llama genus, which lived in the highlands of the Andes, but as a result of predatory extermination for its valuable wool, it has survived only in some places. The vicuña is protected. Work has been done to domesticate it, and farms have been created. The vicuña crossed with the guanaco and domesticated is the famous alpaca. The vicuña was even depicted on coins. And now a little scarf from this graceful animal in a super-brand store costs $800-1,000 or more.
The ground exhibition of reed canoes convinced us that the Incas had a decent fleet of local significance. On the Island of the Sun, the sails on the boats completely replicated the flag of the Land of the Rising Sun: a red-orange disc on a white background.
The little historical museum displayed an impressive number of gold items. For the Incas, gold was only the sacred metal of the sun god, whom they worshiped as the progenitor of their kings. The making of gold figurines, jewelry, and thrones was connected only with religious worship, to appease the sun god.
But perhaps the strongest impression was left by personal participation in an ancient mystical ceremony. We sat on the high rocky shore of the island, the waters of Lake Titicaca stretched before our eyes, clouds billowed like snow caps, and against this background a shaman performed an ancient ritual and drove away evil spirits with fire. Then all participants received a blessing with two daisies, which were dipped into a ceramic bowl with sacred water. Actually, I try to treat all mystical things very carefully, but the peaceful daisies melted the ice of prejudice, and I accepted the blessing into my cupped hands, kneeling before the shaman.
Changing Transport Like Gloves
The day of the trip to the Island of the Sun turned out to be the most productive in terms of the number of types of transport used on Lake Titicaca. First, our international group in the small Bolivian town of Copacabana was loaded onto a blunt-nosed boat, which quickly reached the island and along the way proved to be a model of comfort and excellent service.
The pedestrian exploration of the island ended at the pier, where a surprise awaited everyone: a trip along the shores on a modest reed catamaran, which, naturally, immediately became the "Kon-Tiki," and we felt like members of Thor Heyerdahl's crew. Two skillfully woven reed heads of mythical dragons on the bow of the raft successfully tamed the forces of nature, providing a simply luxurious day for a cruise. We sailed under sail and oars, but, in my opinion, somewhere a motor was treacherously knocking. Since we did not need to confirm the famous traveler's theory about the original settlement of the Polynesian islands from America, the trip was fun and not tiring.
The main part of the group returned by the familiar route to the starting point, and the "Magnificent Seven" - us and three Brazilians - continued the journey on a small catamaran with the name Santa Rita, which was dear to my heart. My mother's name is Margarita, and she loves to feed everyone deliciously. Lunch on the boat took place in a homely atmosphere, if not for the waiters with bow ties.
On the wall of the salon, in a beautiful frame, hung a clipping from the New York Times newspaper for 2001 with an article about the Island of the Sun. And I decided that if my article is printed in my native "Zagranitsa," I will send it to the "Santa Rita" to add to the collection.
Tatyana MEZHZHERINA,
special correspondent