Quilmes heißt nicht nur der Heimatort des Clubs in der Nähe von Buenos Aires sondern auch ein Bier, das ich in Argentinien sehr gern getrunken habe. Aus Ein-Liter-Flaschen, wie es dort üblich ist.

I had the pleasure to see all of these different nature environments, look for are only two of my Peru sets on Flickr.

My judgement is not based on nature alone, that would be unfair, since Ecuador and Colombia also have an incredible variety I unfortunately did not have the time to explore to the fullest. But what I also liked about Peru is the culture awareness and pride you find everywhere. Being the heart of the Inca Empire with Cusco as Inca capital and the cradle for many Indigenous cultures in Latin America, like the Moche and Nasca and many still vivid groups like Quechua, Aymara or Urus, Peru seems to have found a way of being proud of that heritage without feeling too bitter about the colonial history and the tragic destruction of heritage during the Spanish reign. And somehow it feels that the country is internally not as separated as it seems in Bolivia or Ecuador, where politicians, entrepreneurs and tv presenters are mainly white but the street population is mainly indigenous so you feel like you would still be in a colonized country. There seems to be a growing middle class consisting of Indigenous and mestizo people and the next president might be the leftist nationalist Ollanta Humala whose father is of Indigenous origin.

Third reason are the people. Most tend to be really friendly and helpful, and, as a paradox, gave me a lot of warnings about other ill-meaning Peruvians, including taxi drivers who repeatedly warned me about taxi drivers. I also had very educated and savy guides who did not only knew about sites and history but also recommended really great places to eat. Which leads me to the next reason to love Peru: The food.

Food in Peru has an incredible variety of ingredients and recipes, edging to a new cuisine which fuses traditional dishes with Asian (mixed with Chinese, the food is called “Chifa” e.g.) or European cooking. I was happy to have a lot of dishes from Ceviche, which is marinated fresh fish with onion and lemon, Anticuchos, which are grilled beef hearts, Rocoto Relleno, which are stuffed peppers or delicious soups. You can even have guinea pig which is a bit complicated since there is little meat and lots of bone. Typical dessert is sweet rice and a very interesting drink based on some kind of jelly served with lime and herbs, feels really good after eating a lot. And it’s not necessarily expensive, of course you have upscale restaurants but you can eat very very good for 3 EUR as a normal economic menu during the day.

So, I will try to sum up some more conclusions about my travel as my head feels filled with impressions and images and I hope some consistent stories about countries, people and little events might come out.

If it rains heavily in La Paz, whole neighborhoods slide down.

In Potosi, several million people died in one single mine. Millions of black slaves were imported to Bolivia. They worked in the mines. Today, you hardly see any black person in the street.

Today, the mines do not look much different. Stuff is carried out in sacks in the back. If people are lucky, they have a trolley. The stone is cut by hand with a hammer. Many young men work here, 14, 15 years. They chew Coca all day so they don’t feel hunger, nor tiredness. They work hard and they are very proud but all want to quit some time. No miner lives long.

In Bolivian tv, evervbody looks European. On Bolivian streets, everbody looks indigenous. People shout the destinations of the buses, just like in other countries in South America. In Bolivia though, it sounds like they are crying. In Bolivia, there are fake police men. It’s a crazy country.

Du sitzt in der Sonne auf einer Bank. Die Wärme tut gut. Du streckst dich aus. Du legst dich hin, machst die Augen zu. Du willst einschlafen. Du darfst nicht einschlafen. Du bist so müde. Du atmest ein, du atmest aus.

Du liegst mit geschlossenen Augen in der Sonne, die Sonne tut gut. Sie wird dich verbrennen. Du stehst auf, alles dreht sich. Das Blut pocht in deinen Schläfen. Es gibt etwas in deinem Kopf. Du atmest ein, du atmest aus.

Deine Glieder tun weh. Deine Knie tun weh. Dein Rücken tun weh. Deine Fingernägel tun weh. Du gehst weiter. Du hast keinen Durst. Du kaufst eine Flasche Wasser. Du trinkst sie aus, in einem Zug. Deine Lippen sind zerrissen. Du atmest ein, du atmest aus.

Du setzt dich auf die Kante eines Brunnens. Du setzt dich hinunter, vor der Brunnen. Dein Nacken tut weh, deine Haare tun weh. Du gehst in ein Bistro, kaufst einen Kaffee und legst deinen Kopf auf den Tisch. Du unterhälst dich ein bisschen, mit trockener Zunge. Du atmest ein, du atmest aus.

Du musst gehen. Dein Körper hat noch etwas Adrenalin übrig. Es ist schön. Du bist euphorisch, alles geht einfach, auf einmal. Du musst lachen, du musst gehen, du beobachtest dich, wie von aussen. Dein Rucksack ist ganz leicht, du nimmst noch einen, von jemandem, dem es nicht gut geht. Ihr steigt in den Bus. Du setzt dich hin. Du atmest aus. Und schläfst sofort ein.

I wrote this in German since it kind of flew out of my fingers until now. Maybe I am going to write a text or two in English, we’ll see.

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