Before the Incas...

...there was the Chavín, one of the most influential cultures in the Andes. 

The 3,000 year old ruins of their central temple--Chavín de Huántar--was the highlight of our trip to Huaraz. 

After four hours of traversing the rugged Cordillera Blanca (13,500 at the road's highest), we arrived at the ruins' location within the Callejón de los Conchucos:

While when we think of Peru, we think of the Incas, their empire only dominated the Andes for a century before the Spanish arrival in 1526. The influential Chavín culture, on the other hand, touched Andean societies from Ecuador to southern Peru from 1200 to 300 BC--a whole 2,000 years before the Incas even appeared as a small tribe near Cuzco.

The ancient temple ruins tell the story of Chavín's encompassing reach. While various cultures existed before the Incas, few, if any, united them under one common spirituality like that represented at the temple. Between 460 and 390 BC, archaelogists believe Chavín de Huántar was a major center of pilgrimage. 

The most impressive piece was the Lanzón. We climbed down into one of the many tunnels that run through the temple to find a room with this white granite monolith with an anthropomorphic being--the "Smiling God"--carved into it.

 

The Lanzón was built into the floor and the ceiling, making many believe that the temple might have been built around it. Historical accounts says the monolith was an oracle. While I didn't get any special vibe, according to my guidebook, some people feel a special energy after seeing the stone. 

Shown below, the Raymondi Stone (named for it's "discoverer") depicts the second god at the temple--the Staff God. What I thought was interesting is the spiritual value of hallucinogens alluded to in the carving. Staff God is holding a San Pedro cactus which contains mescaline, a mind-altering drug which provokes multicolored visions. Andean shamans still use the drug. 

 

Who cares about really, really old stones with wild carvings? Archaeologist Brian Fagan explains the culture's artistic significance (found this in The Peru Reader). I'll leave you with this:

"Chavín ideology was born of both tropical forest and coastal beliefs, one so powerful that it spawned a lively, exotic art style that spread rapidly over a wide area of the highlands and arid coast. Chavín was the catalyst for many technological advances, among them the painting of textiles, many of which served as wall hangings with their ideological message writ large in vivid colors. These powerful images, in clay, wood, and gold, on textiles and in stone, drew together the institutions and achievements of increasingly sophisticated Andean societies. Such cosmic, shamanistic visions were Chavín's legacy to later Andean civilizations."

Huaraz' hidden treasure

It wasn't in the guidebook. It wasn't even something locals thought was worth mentioning. But today, Sergio and I found Huaráz' real treasure--the traditional food festival held every Sunday. 

Really, we arrived almost by accident. After a short trip up the Callejón de Huaylas to Carhuaz for ice cream and a tour of the market...

...everyone had pachamanca on the brain. 

Pachamanca (translation from Quechua=earthern pot) was a first for me. It's a meat dish (usually pork, lamb or chicken) placed over heated stones, then buried under dirt and grass and cooked for about an 1 1/2 hours. Peruvians everywhere salivate over the thought of it, but it's rare to find and only cooked well in certain regions.

We were determined but we couldn't find somewhere in Carhuaz. David assured us he knew of a good place that sold it every Sunday in Huaraz. So, like dedicated foodies, we got back in the van and headed into town. 

I didn't think much about where we might find this dish. After all, it's common for certain dishes to only be served one day of the week in Peru. 

But I didn't imagine I'd find this:

On a tiny street hidden from view, and a good 15-minute walk up the hill from the plaza, we arrived upon a makeshift restaurant scene. The street is vacant for the whole week, except for Sunday, when it's transformed into a raucous traditional Peruvian food extravaganza.

There's everything you could ever want along the street. But almost all the restaurants are selling pachamanca at a reasonable price of 13 soles ($4.30). Every restaurant had it's people pounding the streets with good offers to entice customers. We walked the line of tables at least three times before deciding on a spot.

We ordered two plates of it to share. Three different meats were wrapped up in this brown paper. With it came a tamale (the same name as the Mexican one, but a lot different), a sweet potato, a white potato, choclo (corn) and a few humitas (sweet tamales):

We dove in with our hands. Inside, the pachamanca looks like this--three pieces of meat cooked with herbs.

I liked it, all. The flavors were new and different than even most Peruvian dishes I've tasted before. And the atmosphere--sharing the view of the mountains on a narrow back alley with Peruvians families on a Sunday afternoon--was unforgettable. 

My recommendation to Frommer's and Lonely Planet--get this food market in your books or risk allowing so many travelers to miss out on a real Peruvian experience.

Angry Huascaran & the Yungay Tragedy

Saturday, we woke up to another panetón accompanied by hot chocolate before squeezing into a little combi (van) heading north up the Callejón de Huaylas, or the Huaylas valley (see map). 

Along the potholed road that winds up the valley floor, every image that passed the window was captivating. I took at least 30 pictures on the ride of the towering peaks, the steep--and yet still inhabited--hills and the modest pueblos. But I deleted them all because my camera couldn't do it justice.

Poverty is prevalent in Callejón de Huaylas, but it's a different poverty than I've seen in Lima or Arequipa. Something about the lush river valley and the strength of the Quechua culture here changes the poverty from desperate to hopeful. The small homes we passed were real adobe, surrounded by the family's animals and small crop. 

The traditionally dressed women wore vibrant weaves and distinguished hats with a satin embellishment, like this señora who joined us on the bus:

The ride itself was an experience. At one point, I swear we were flying at 75 mph, swerving to miss potholes and passing on blind corners. But after an hour drive, we paid our four soles fare ($1.30) and got out at Yungay. 

Yungay lies below the highest mountain in Peru, el Huascarán. At 22,204 feet, I strained my neck to look at him. At first, the giant hid his face behind the clouds, but finally as we waited for the bus back to Huaraz, el Huascarán showed his face. How little and insignificant I felt. 

But this mountain, in all it's majesty, is not purely benevolent. The 25,000 people buried on the valley floor as a result of the mountain's wrath are testimony to the region's unforgiving nature.

On May 31, 1970, an earthquake let loose a landslide of ice and granite from Huascarán that engulfed the town of Yungay. This photo shows where the city once stood, and the church's facade that was reconstructed in memory of the victims:

Ironically, except for the few who escaped to the cemetery below and stadium on high ground, everyone died.

 They estimate that 25,000 but they were never really sure. Whole families disappeared within minutes of the earthquake. Their remains still lay below the landslide, along with the city's rubble.

Where the pueblo once stood is a national cemetery called Campo Santo, or Sacred Land. Visitors come to see the few remnants of the old city and pay their respects to the victims. Walking through it, we saw boulders like these that came with the landslide, as well as this bus that was bent in half:

These three resilient palm trees (now dead) remain in their original places, even as the entire church was wiped away:

A new pueblo has been formed only a half-mile up the road, but tragedy and the cemetery stand as a reminder of the harsh environment that surrounds Peruvians in valley. Sergio said that the Yungay landslide may have been the most devastating natural disaster in Peruvian history--and it happened right below the country's highest mountain.

Only a day after we visited Yungay, Huascarán and his other mountain peers again reminded us of their power and wrath. A 5.7 pt tremor hit Huaráz close to city. 

New year, new perspective

Tired from traveling and celebrating, we woke up for a late breakfast on New Year's Day. To walk off all that chancho and champagne, we took off up the hill to the Mirador (Lookout) de Rataquena to get a new view of the city.

Juliana, David, Luz, Sergio and I climbed east up Huaraz´tattered streets until they became overgrown dirt roads lined with small plots of land for raising cows, chickens and growing crops. We found these three kids playing and caring for their sheep at the edge of town.

We climbed for an hour before arriving at the base of a graffittied cross at 12,000 feet (says my guidebook). From there, a pristine and panoramic view lay before us--Huaraz, the big mine across the valley and to the west (try to look for it in the photos below), el Huascaran to the north (the highest peak in Peru) and the rugged mountains directly ahead.

While us girls chatted, Sergio and David climbed higher still and took this photo:

After our adventures, we found a place to eat ceviche and then finally slept away New Year's Eve

and 24 hours of bus travel.

New Year's: Chancho & Yellow Undies

2009 ended with a bang--on another continent, eating chancho (pork), shooting off fireworks and wearing yellow undies. Okay, I really didn't wear yellow undies for good luck, as is the New Year's tradition here.

David, Juliana, Luz, Sergio and I headed downtown in mancha (group) to check out what the street vendors had to offer. Like Christmas Eve, the main drag was filled with people selling yellow New Year's everything--hats, underwear, fireworks, you name it.

Juliana, our elected negotiator, got us a handful of sparklers and pirate hats. We were set.

Since we didn't have a big enough oven for the pig, we paid a local bakery $2 for them to cook it, and then picked it up around 10 pm.

At around 11:45, the meal was finally out on the table just in time to rush outside for the impromptu, town-wide fireworks show and a toast to 2010. David and Sergio took part.

Here was a post-midnight shot of Juliana, David, Luz and Sergio.

Behind them and across the street, we saw a very Peruvian New Year's tradition--burning a doll. The horrible smell that it emits gives you an idea of what the doll is made of--everything that symbolizes a bad year that you want to put in the past.

While my nose is no specialist, I think the closest doll was made of rotten fruits, excrement and old cloths. Supposedly, the tradition has been outlawed because of the toxic fumes that sometimes escape, but it seemed to be alive and well in Huaraz.

After a hearty meal, we left for the bar strip around 1 am, which they ironically called Barranquito (Barranco is a hip bar neighborhood). The street was crowded with teenagers and 20-somethings passing their glass of rum or beer around their circle of friends (a Peruvian drinking custom). We watched a free concert they had set up in the street for awhile before arriving home around 3 am.

There was no Auld Lang Syne (thank God, because I never understood the lyrics), nor were there resolutions exchanged. But there was a midnight kiss!