Trujillo, Peru April 27, 1979
On our last day in Cajamarca I met another solo female traveler, Sue, who at the moment is traveling with a guy called John. Sue’s from England and is here for another month or so, on her way down through Peru to Bolivia. We compared notes, as it were, about the joys and hardships of traveling as a solo gringa in this very macho culture. While it’s great, as a solo traveler, to be able to do what you want when you want without having to consider someone else’s wishes, it can be difficult, and at times downright dangerous, to be a solo female traveler. She told me I was the first female solo traveler she’d met here in South America who had not been raped. Yikes. I’ve met almost no solo female travelers so was unable to contribute any equally sad stories, but I certainly shared my own frustrations and fears. The upshot was that we agreed to travel together for a bit. John seemed happy to have two ‘girls’ – one on either arm. And so we all boarded a bus from Cajamarca to Trujillo, the first leg of our journey south, eventually to Lima.
The road from Cajamarca to Trujillo, on the coast, ran through a broad green valley flanked by the treeless Andean mountains. I love that the lack of vegetation on the mountains enables one to really appreciate the ridge and rock formations. I’m accustomed to BC mountains, mostly heavily clothed in forest greens that tend to hide their underlying features. The Andes are further feeding my interest in geology – especially of the forces that thrust them up. Cataclysms I cannot even begin to imagine.
Once we got to the coast we passed through a veritable sea of sand dunes – wave upon wave of dun-coloured sand. And so dry - no vegetation at all. And finally Trujillo, an amazingly dull place in many ways reminiscent, as is all of Peru, of the cities in Hungary and Czechoslovakia (with the exception of Prague) – a little more Americanized, with Coke and Pepsi signs pretty well everywhere. There are one or two private houses and small buildings with impressive modern architecture (a la Frank Lloyd Wright). But mostly it’s another bombed-out looking coastal town. The big earthquake of 1970 has left its wake throughout these towns and especially in the fringe areas: there are acres of half-built adobe, clay and brick structures, apparently houses, all roof-less, usually one-story high, maybe two, with rebars sticking up everywhere like a forest of TV antennae above a city of rubble.
We did find an amazing hotel with full amenities, including hot water, and very cheap, possibly because there are so few tourists here. Their bad luck, our good fortune.
The streets are absolutely filled with cart vendors selling underwear, t-shirts, jewelry, fruit, bread, pastries, household odds and ends, candy, gum and cigarettes, jugos and god knows what all – an amazing mish-mash of people and things. There was a small museum in Trujillo which offered at least an opportunity to take refuge from the sun and the heat. I was impressed with its collections of ancient pottery and fabrics, and was particularly taken with the fascinating animal designs. I spent some time sketching them, much to the amusement of the few other museum-goers. Unfortunately there was no information about the designs, so one either had to know what they represented, or, like me, make wild guesses.
This looks cat-like, but what is the thing with all the 'y's' coming out of its head?
This is war-like. Is the humanoid creature with the jackal head and the serpent tail a
representation of the Spanish conquistadores, beheading Incans? And what is the
snake doing? So many questions... .
We took a side-trip to Huanchaco, a little fishing village about 30 minutes’ bus ride away, where walked the beach picking up shells, looking at the reed boats, and having a great fish dinner.
We’re heading out tomorrow – we have no reason to stay here.
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