Sacred Inca Ruins

We stopped at a port on La Isla del Sol, where we saw the reed catamaran Sailboat take off. There were a few residences, a hostel and a few eateries. The beach here was covered with pebbles, more like the cliff walk beach at Newport Rhode Island. The first photo shows the rock staircase that we climbed to the spring. Along the rock steps, the spring ran down in a little stream, and people stopped to drink the water.

The ancient Inca Springs located two thirds of the way up the hill, were used by Inca Priests to purify themselves before rituals. They would come to this place by boat, to purify and prepare themselves for rituals that were held in other locations. Only the most important people were allowed to come here. There were two different springs with different types of water, a mineral water and the other just regular spring water. The priest needed to bathe in both waters and drink from both. springs.



All our Catholic pilgrims did an abbreviated version, a cup of water from both and wetting their heads in both. The cautious missioner that I am, I drank three handfuls directly from the streaming water and passed three drenching handfuls over my head. I must admit that I later got a headache, so I don't know that I recieved a blessing, but maybe I cured something else... People also filled bottles with the water and I wasn't sure if it was to drink or use as a holy water.

As an aside, when people bless themselves with holy water here, they put handfuls on their heads, or sometimes the priest drenches them with holy water. In many churches here, after mass, the people go up to the altar and wait for the priest to bless them with holy water. For some it is not enough to get a sprinkle from afar, they need to get up close for a good dousing!



After the Inca Springs we got back into the boat and passed by the above ruins slowly. I don't think that we had time to unload the boats, explore and reload the boats. I don't have any information about these ruins.

After we stopped by some floating restaurants, where you could choose which trout you wanted slaughtered for your dinner. They were in cages in the water. We only stopped for a short time, but a few people did buy trout dinners. So many people wanted to see them kill and clean the fish, that the area of the float went inches under water, and people needed to move to other parts of the float to adjust. We headed back after to Copacabana, where lunch was waiting for us (5:00pm!!)

My Personal Pilgrimage on Boats in Lake Titicaca

Having worked on sailboats for various seasons in the mid 1990s. I was quite excited to see Lake Titicaca, which is the highest commercially navigable lake in the world. I think that it is the second largest freshwater lake in South America. Lake Titicaca is about 3,232 sq miles, average depth of 351 ft, with the deepest deepth of about 1,000 ft. To make a comparison, the land area of New Jersey is 7,419 sq miles.

When we crossed in ferry to the peninsula, we had to leave the bus and take small boats of 15-20 people to the other side. The bus was driven onto a ferry, which looked like a dock, or pierhead, or a gigantic raft. At one point in the middle of the channel the ferry bobbed up and down so much, I thought the bus wouldn't make it. Ours was the largest vehicle to cross at that time.

A week earlier two boats had collided and a couple of people drowned. The military police were out on our return crossing to make sure the boats were not over loaded and that everyone had a lifevest. The life jacket was very sketchy in my opinion and since I was the only one who knew how to put one on, I felt it but a joke (no safety talk on this boat). Though I know how to swim I put one on to show others, and to be able to help if there were an actual emergency.

Our second day we took a boat to Isla del Sol (the Island of Sun), the ride was almost two hours. When we arrived we basically went to the beach. There were soccer and volley ball games, some of us rolled up our pants and waded in the water. The campers on the beach (mostly foreigners) said the water was warm. Having worked sailboats in Maine, where water temps could fall under 60 F, I would consider this water cold!! After the soccer games some folks actually did swimm around.

What impressed me most in the boat ride and on the bus ride from the ferry to Copacabana were the proliferation of terraces, or terraced land. I had seen it before in Bolivia but not to this extent. It impressed me that so much land had been cultivated. I could only imagine the extent of the Inca Civilization. There were still working terraces that we passed by boat. The water temps in Lake Titicaca are said to remain the same year round, making it a great place to raise crops. Below is the best shot that I was able to get, but like the Grand Canyon it is hard to get a picture that truly represents what I saw.

After out time on the beach we boarded the boat again for a short cruise to another port on the island were we saw ancient ruins (stay tuned for next post for details) While we were there a reed catamaran set sail from the dock to head back to Copacanana. I hope to return some day to take a sail on that boat. The sailors also had long oars to halp get them out of port. The boats of old on Lake Titicaca were mostly made of reed. If you are in Washington DC you can see one of these reed canoes on display in the native American Museum in the main foyer.

Pilgrimage to Copacabana

Pilgramage seems like such an old fashioned word, it make me think of midevil Europe, though I know many people who make pilgrimages to Fatima, Isreal, Guadelupe.... Here is Bolivia one place of pilgrimage is Copacabana. Which is located in the altiplano, a plain at an altitude of roughly 12,000ft, located in the Andes. Copacabana is located on Lake Titicaca on a peninsula that juts out of Peru but is still part of Bolivia.

The pilgramage was organized by the parish of San Carlos, which is the parish for which I work. Over 80 parishioners went in two bus loads, ages 3 to 70 something. Included were families, couples, young adults, retirees, people from various economic backgrounds. Some people had not even traveled as far as La Paz, which we passed in transit.

Fr Edwin ofm, our pastor guided the trip. He prayed on each bus for both legs of the trip. Food was brought along and cooked to help keep costs down. We went to mass each day with Padre Edwin celebrating.

The Stations of the Cross were set on a hill on the outskirts of town on the shore of Lake Titicaca. Our first day after settling in, we headed out in group to pray the Stations of the Cross. It was a steep climb, that was hard on the elders of the group, but each station gave an opportunity to rest, as Padre Edwin led us in prayer and song. He prayed for the intenions of everyone in the parish. Each station we prayed for a different group, the sick, the children, the young adults, the aged.... We returned on Sunday at 4:30 AM. I went to the 7:00 PM mass that day, and Padre Edwin let everyone know that we had been praying for them on the pilgrimage, even though all could not go.

I have photos ready for 3 other posts for this trip. I hope to weekly write the entries.



At the top of the Stations of the Cross were mini shrines to Mary. We prayed at each one.



Resting at the top of the hill after the stations, various parishioners. Padre Edwin is to my left with a cowboy hat! It made it very easy to keep track of him.



View back into Copacabana from the Stations of the Cross.

What Would You Do

I saw a TV show by the name of "What Would You Do?" It's a sort of Candid Camera with a moral twist. The episode that I saw featured various people (one at a time) lying on the sidewalk in various stages of distress. Camera rolling to capture the Good Samaritan. Just like the bible story they captured the apathy of the passerbys. The award to the best good Samaritan went to a middle aged homeless woman who accompanied a young, appearingly drunk, man. Going so far as to get rid of the bottle so that others would have more sympathy.

I sometimes wonder if they are shooting this show in Bolivia. I see many people, usually men, laying in the street or sidewalks, some obviously drunk trying to sleep it off. Sometimes homeless taking a nap to make up for lost sleep the night before, some just teenagers. I recently had to climb over 4 teens as they tried to take a nap, out of the rain on the doorsteps of the Franciscan Social Center, it had been a holiday with no services.

One Saturday afternoon I was walking from the market place to the apartment of Clare and Nora. I was approaching the business district, when I saw a young man face down in a position that suggested something was wrong. Had he been hurt? Had he overdosed on drugs? Was he just drunk? It was right outside a fancy take out ice cream place.

In the U.S. I would know what to do, who to call. Here the "system" is very different. Or maybe I should say there really isn't much of a system. I observed a man in a nice car parked close by, he was looking at the teen, and was on his cell phone. The car (a late model) could indicate money, power, position and education (or at the least knowledge of what to do).

I felt at the moment off the hook, I felt someone was in charge. I continued walking, comtemplating how little help I could be in the situation. No phone numbers no one to call. I guess I could have stayed with him until help came, because the man obviously was not getting out of the car.

At a traffic light a block or two later, the man pulled up to the red light. A passenger was in the car and they were eating ice cream. I looked back down the street and saw no police. I have always wondered was the man actually making a call to help the teen, or just talking on the phone? Was he just a spectator? Just like I was? Should I have gone back?

I once was on my way to church when I was in language school, and I came upon the scene of an attack, that happened 30 minutes earlier. The people living in the houses nearby had come out to help. After calling for the police and waiting 10 minutes they could wait no longer for the ambulance, and had taken the person to the hospital. They stopped me to show me the scene and asked if I knew the person, since it was someone from North America. I actually did and they asked if I would go to the host family's house to inform them. At the 40 minute mark the police showed up, no ambulance.

The teen on the sidewalk was less than 3 blocks from the police station, I wonder how long it took them to show up, or if they even showed up. When I was living in the city last year, I went out in search of a missing 19 year old male one night. After roaming the streets nearby, my friend Pepe suggested we look in the bars. There is one street that has many, but to no avail. We were about to call it quits, with a last look through at a nearby plaza. As we were about to cross the street to the plaza, something told me to look up the street and cross over 1/2 block up, giving us more eyes in more places. That is where I found him passed out on the sidewalk, people walking around him. I called to Pepe and our other helper to come. We took him home, he said the next day that he had only one drink, but someone slipped something in it. (He was 15 paces from a liquor store)

Back to the premise What Would You Do?, if you were a woman, and you saw a teen face down in the street of a foreign country, where you didn't have contacts and you were still learning the culture? Is this a rhetorical question? one to think about? or one you can make a comment about in the comment section?

I wrote this post weeks ago wondering if I should actually post it. Was it too difficult to read. I sent it to various people. A couple responses were noncommittal. But two of my old friends from my first teaching days at Jubilee responded overwhelmingly positive to publish the post. They shared great reflections of how, though one many not see someone in the street, the same questions can be brought up in other circumstances. I was tempted to add them to the post.