And of course I had the paper maps and google maps on the phone and I had asked the lady in the hotel in Huancayo how long the trip to Ayacucho normally takes. She reported faithfully 'a maximum of 5 hours' (google maps estimated it at 3.5) she also said it was a good road and we knew it was only just over 200 kilometers, what could possibly go wrong?
Clearly the important questions I omitted to ask her were, have you ever been to Ayacucho? and have you ever been on that road?
Said road, initially a quite fabulous example of a tarmacadam route, magnificently rises out of the Huancayo valley climbing once more to 4,500 metres...
before dropping into lush valleys...
then climbing and dropping to more lushness before climbing again.
At this point the landscape started to get more barren, the marvelous asphalted road was a long way behind us and it felt like we were a very long way from anywhere and of course sunset was approaching, but there was no other option than to continue.
As we climbed further the mist rolled in, the dirt track became narrower and every now and again there was a choice of direction as new tracks branched off, but of course there was no one to ask directions, google maps thought we were in a very very large field where roads don't exist and the paper maps had no record of any such choice. So we repeatedly took a punt and carried on until the track was obviously not going the right way (at least the compass was still operational but it takes a while to know which way you are actually heading when hairpin follows hairpin) - all the while it got darker, it started raining and Ayacucho refused to appear.
To add to the excitement on several occasions some reasonably serious 4x4 action was required as the track became mud, and then what turned out to be about an hour before arrival in Ayacucho a warning light fired up to indicate that at least one tyre had just rapidly deflated, but we eventually climbed into Ayacucho 8.5 hours after departure having well and truly broken the golden rules with regards to travelling in this part of the world, i.e. know exactly where you are going and do not travel on these crazy mountain passes after dark, but hey, we made it safe and sound and everyone (including the 3 sets of policemen) we met on the way had been very helpful and quietly reassuring.
Ayacucho is a beautiful city, the 'hidden jewel of Peru's southern andes' with a big colonial centre, baroque and renaissance churches around every corner and Quechua is spoken everywhere.
Apparently though there are no more than 500 tourists that visit Ayacucho each month (other than during Semana Santa) which compared to the 45,000 or so that visit Cusco is a stark contrast. And it does feel remote, more cut off and certainly less affected by outside influences, which is fantastic on the one hand but a shame when we see all the benefits that tourism has brought to Cusco, for example, in terms of jobs and a hugely positive change since I was first there in 1999.
Next morning after the puncture repair and some good advice for the next leg of the journey we visited Quinua, a quiet village about 35kms out of the city.
It is when visiting villages like Quinua that the lasting effects of Peru's civil war in the 1980's and 90's really sink in, especially in this part of the highlands around Ayacucho which was the centre of so much of the fighting and loss.
To describe the village as quiet is only one way of looking at it, deserted is another. Many many people left their highland villages like this one for the relative safety of Lima and never returned.
But then we walked down one more street and discovered the weekly market was on, bustling away in all its glory as only markets can. Of course everyone was here, why should they be in the main square waiting for tourists to take pictures of them, stupid tourist!!
One v interesting additional visitation was to the studio of the Sulca family in the Santa Ana district of Ayacucho. Alfonso Sucla and his wife design and make rugs and mats and textily things, their inspiration being the civil war and the extreme violence that Ayacuchonians in particular suffered.
This sounds horrific but the oeuvres are beautiful (unfortunately no photos) where they have woven every day objects into particular symbolic contexts. The tour that his wife gave us was very moving and a real insight into how the violence affected them at the time and is viewed today - highly recommend when you visit...
After 3 nights in Ayacucho we prepared to leave, a little sad as the city, its surroundings and particularly the people are truly special. There is a graceful resolve in their demeanour, they have had to fight to survive in every way for generations of struggle, not least in the last 25 years, but their spirit was clearly never broken. Hopefully as Peru continues to boom economically they too will benefit more and more.
Your blog is a trip down memory lane for me, Ben.
ReplyDeleteI think the University of Huamanga (Ayacucho) is the second oldest university in Peru. Abimael Guzman, the founder of the Sendero Luminoso, was a professor of Philosophy at this university and this why it became such a hot bed of S.L. activities and why the surrounding villages & villagers suffered so greatly. If they were suspected of sympathising with either the S.L. or the government, then they were tortured or slaughtered by the other side. No one was allowed to live in peace; escaping was their only option and few manageed to get out unscathed. Roz and I borrowed Bernard's Land Rover and drove from Lima to Huancayo, Ayacucho, Andahuaylas, Abancay, Cuzco, Puno & over the high pampa to Tacna in 1965. We lived in Ayacucho for a month coninuing our research for our university degrees.
All was wonderfully peaceful back then although they were beginning to build the "proper" roads you travelled on! :-)