Titicaca — twotakeflight

Ahhhhh shit.

I’m in the back of an unmarked cab with Anushka in Puno. It’s 11pm and we’ve just arrived, late, into the new city. A new country for that matter. It was not the welcome I expected from Peru, and frankly it was the last country I expected things to go wrong or possibly get dangerous.

*Crossing Lake Titicaca and the Bolivian border on the way to Puno*

We were scheduled to spend the night on the man-made floating islands of the Uros, an indigenous tribe from Peru and Bolivia that live on Lake Titicaca. Because of our late arrival, we were unable to contact the family that had arranged the taxi pick-up and boat transfer to the guesthouse on their island that evening. A taxi did show up, eventually, at the pre-arranged point and said he’d take us to the docks. Suspicious at his casualness and the lack of detail on his car or shirt but eager to get off the secluded street, we jumped in.

As the taxi raced out of the city through increasingly rough neighborhoods, my mind started racing with it and jumping to increasingly dark places. What if he’s not taking us to the docks? What’s our escape plan if this starts going wrong? Should I screen-shot our location on google maps to our family and friends?

I silently took note of the streets and hotels we passed. One look at Anushka and I could tell she was doing the exact same thing. We turned into an even quieter street leading to the water and stopped in front of a deserted dock, unlit and surrounded by mounds of rubble and a few stray dogs. No boats to be seen, and our driver remained silent. We’re going to get Soprano’ed!, my obnoxious imagination chirped. Those 10 minutes of waiting and uncertainty were some of the longest I’ve experienced.

My brain, of course, was overthinking the situation and on overdrive. But spending time in a big city like New York makes you more acute of your environment and a little more careful with your trust. At a moment like this, I’d rather be wrong than ignorant.

And thankfully, I couldn’t have been more wrong. Juan, our affable host, picked us up in a small motorboat with blankets in hand for the chilly night ride and whisked us away towards his island home in total darkness. He was clearly an expert navigator, among many other things, we later learned. We stayed with him and his family on his island lodge, called Aruma Uro (yup it’s on TripAdvisor, he’s got some savvy kids), and spent the next day learning about the lake and the Uros.

*Exploring the lake with Eddie, Juan’s friend, for the day*

Lake Titicaca sits high in the Andes on the border of Bolivia and Peru. At over 12,500 ft in elevation, it’s considered one of the world’s highest lakes and, more importantly, home to a few pre-Incan populations including the Aymara (on the mainland) and Uros (on the lake), like Juan and his family.

*The clouds hug low over the lake because of Titicaca’s altitude*

The Uros community is small but fascinating. About 1500 people live across 90 man-made islands on Lake Titicaca. They’ve built their entire lives on water by constructing islands, homes, boats and anything else you can think of from totora, a reed that grow abundantly on the lake. Built from this dried reed, our accommodations were obviously basic but ingenious nonetheless, and a great lesson on resourcefulness and community.

*Traditional Uros boats made from totora reed*

The islands are made by layering totora and then anchoring the giant reed float with rope to totora root in shallower waters. Every month, the men harvest additional reed and pad a few more inches of floor on their islands to replace the rotting layers below the water. But that doesn’t solve for the sinking buildings atop the islands. So once to twice a year, they’ll come together to lift the homes, schools, and other buildings on each island and add a few feet of totora underneath their stilts. Yeah, pretty hard work. Just cutting and harvesting the reed, which we were given a lesson on, was tough stuff.

*Replacing the totora reeds frequently is hard work but keeps the Uros Floating Islands alive*

Island hopping on their reed boats called balsas, we also got an opportunity to cast a fishing net, eat a typical island meal (trout served with fresh veggies and the biggest corn kernels you can imagine), and try on traditional clothes in their homes. That last one felt a little intrusive to be honest.

*Island hopping. Yep, that smile was pretty forced during the dress-up.*

We even exchanged stories, in Spanish, about Indian versus Uros wedding customs and our favorite American movies. Take that snapshot in for a second. Under the morning sun, we’re sitting on a small reed boat rolling through the gentle waves of Lake Titicaca with someone from a completely different world, while we all collectively struggle, hack together, and finally connect through a combination of our 2nd or 3rd most comfortable language and aggressive hand motions on our shared love of Will Smith in Independence Day. It was a ridiculous cultural collision and perfect example of one of my favorite parts of traveling.

Although our time on the Uros floating islands was the highlight of Lake Titicaca, the region offers plenty more. On our way to Puno we stopped in Copacabana as well, a small town on the Bolivian side of the lake, to explore Isla Del Sol. The small, tranquil island is known as the birthplace of the Incan sun god. It also hosts a few Incan ruins and sweeping views of Lake Titicaca.