Skulls, a last look at a bird paradise, an oasis, and accountancy

Ah, Peru.  It was pretty delightful.  Our last days in South America were spent in and around the town of Paracas, on the Pacific coast of Peru.  This is our last South American entry finally.  Sigh . . . done with South America. 

On our last morning in Peru, I went on a second boat trip to the Ballestas Islands for one final glimpse of the amazing wildlife.

Famous "candelabra" carved into the mountain ca. 500AD on a nearby island.  Similar to the famous Nazca lines.

Sea lions drape themselves over the rocks, each other -- they look so soft, snuggly and comfortable.  

Turkey vultures are plentiful on the Ballestas -- waiting, hoping for a dead sea lion baby, fetus, mom or placenta.  These are perched on part of the structure in place for the lucrative every 7-year harvesting of the guano produced by the guano cormorant, below. 

Endangered red-legged cormorant.

The dark, seeming-shadow on the left side of the island is thousands of guano cormorants warming in the sun.

  Sweet healthy multitudes.

There's an oasis nestled among the sand dunes in the Peruvian northern extension of the Atacama desert.  The oasis is about 30 miles north of Paracas.  I'd never seen one before.  Not visible in the photos:  dunebuggies crawling like ants over the dunes.  

 

This gull dined on a dead skate -- not easy eating, as they're pretty rubbery when freshly dead.  Gotta shake it around to get little bits off.

This egret was in breeding plumage - these lovely feathers, preferred hat decorations, almost led to their extinction.

Our last afternoon was spent in a little local skull museum in Paracas -- the only skull museum I've ever seen.  It's a one room museum, with a very old, very knowledgeable director/guide who gave us a personal tour of artifacts, mostly skulls displaying intentional cranial deformations.  The Paracas nobility practiced this from about 700 BCE with several different types of uh modification, always done on infants, as the skull and patient are more pliable and compliant then.  They also practiced trepanation (skull cutting, basically) to treat health problems, and remedy head trauma from battle.  These practices didn't always enhance survival odds - of babies or other patients.  

Trepanation performed on a "modified" skull owner.

Elongated, obviously.

A broadened, flattened skull.

Head binding pad, with a picture of how it'd be applied.  Usually stayed in place for at least 6 months, sometimes longer, if the patient was compliant and not dead.

And finally - accounting.  This is the quipu, a knotted alpaca yarn tool used by the Incas for accounting.

This one shows the record keeping in process.                                                                                                                              

And an Inca accountant with a fresh ledger.

Steve, amused by the books.

That we've been "on the road" for 9 months comes as a surprise -- seems like lots of water under the bridge, also seems like it was just a short time ago we were dreaming all this up.  Maybe its because we're so old?  I don't know, but we're enjoying Portland, loosely planning our next adventure which will include Portugal and southern Spain in March/April, then over to the British Isles for the summer.  Rather amazing year, and while there's a wedding in September (Gen's!) that'll bring us back, we're not sure whether we'll be ready to settle down then, or take off in another direction.  It's almost easier in some ways to keep going, rather than face the storage area and have to make a decision about the next chapter.  Yet I think we both long for  normalcy.  And we miss you all in that normalcy!  Two sides to every coin.   

More on Portland

The odd behavior of the common teasle was my first real clue that things were different here.  I'd noticed the laid-backness of the people, the minimal calm traffic, the mist, oh the great beer, the myriad bikes, but the way this plant was reacting to its environment was woah, weird by my midwestern standards.  Teasels grow all over the states, and are brown spiky lovelies in winter, awaiting regrowth in the spring.  The teasels in the Pacific Northwest  however do something different:  the relatively constant winter moisture along with the occasional bright sunshine and moderate temps encourages the seeds in the dried head to sprout right there in the seed head.  Their numbers indicate this isn't detrimental -- perhaps gives them an early start?  It's quite lovely.

While on a hike, Steve noticed these mist-frosted trees.

This statue is of Portlandia -- she's perched atop, looking down at the town.

This is our current home, in a condo on the Willamette River, right near Pearl District and downtown.   There's a jogging/biking path that follows the river for miles.

Voodoo Donuts is very popular in Portland.  Delicious, clever stuff.  There's a coffin available for purchase, filled with donuts.

This red-goo filled donut has a pretzel stake in her heart; she'll ooze/bleed upon being bitten.

Bad photo, but this donut has a poo-appearing dollop of peanut butter in the middle.  

A chess game that Steve and I left in process; these guys took over for us.  The pieces are put away at night.  

The giant outdoor holiday tree was being dismantled.  Branches at the base, except for the few at the top.

The benches and lots of other fixtures grow winter coats of moss.  

A sunny day, Mount Hood in the background.  There have
been lots of sunny days here.

Sweet 8' sculpture.

All our traveling lives, we've taken the opportunity to go on brewery tours when we've been near them.  They've mostly been big affairs, with miles of conveyor belts, lots of fork lifts, hundreds of thousands of bottles.  In 1984 Oregon changed its brewery laws to allow small scale brewing, and a whole new industry appeared.  We toured the little Bridgeport Brewery one day and gained a whole new perspective and appreciation of craft brewing.  Just Steve and me on the tour, led by a brewmaster -- went all over, cameras allowed, all questions addressed, we saw and tasted hops, saw the yeasts bubbling (below) in their lab, up close, the small batch approach.  It all happens in one city block -- all the fantastic stuff they brew and ship, obviously not much, but such a different approach and outcome.  It was fascinating.  And one small dumpster of waste -- they are so environmentally conscious -- recycle, reuse, feed pigs, fertilize with the byproducts.

These varieties of hops are grown specifically for Bridgeport.

Y-Es hiking in a nearby forest at Christmas.

Icing on the cake:  we went into the Multnomah County Library on our second day in town, and walked out laden with books an hour later, proud card holders.  Nice library, great staff, familiar patrons.

Also, I went on a tour of the Portland Mounted Police facility. It was the most in-depth, equine-conscious and -aware horse tour I've ever had, and have a new-found respect for urban-employed horses.

To be on the force (of  only 10), a horse needs to be at least 1/2 draft horse, and that means shaggy  fetlocks and legs, so  to keep them safe and clean, they're shaved weekly.  You can see his shaving lines above. They're also all geldings. 

The horses play soccer with this big ball, while learning the skill of pushing with their noses.

The PMP horses aren't shod, but wear these comfy, no slip sneakers when they work the streets.

Lake Titicaca/Puno's Diablada and procession

Our stay in the Lake Titicaca area was timed so that we'd be in Puno, known as the folkloric capital of Peru, for the famed Diablada dance/procession.  A rather pale version of the Diablada can be found on youtube, if you're so inclined.  Puno is a festival town -- it's said that there are over 300 festivals and processions in the city annually, so it's not hard to include one during a visit.  The town of only 100K at 4000m elevation has a set of bleachers, which, while sort of flimsy, appear to be a permanent fixture in the town.  The dance takes place in the center of town and moves around the square.

Part of the reason processions and festivals are so plentiful and popular, I think, is that so many people take part in them.  There must be/have been a huge expenditure on costumes and their upkeep as the costumes were waaay over the top in quality, extravagance and plenitude.  Apparently lots of groups perform each of the dances (Puno's known for 10 specific dances).  We got to see high schoolers perform our Diablada (learned this by talking with folks afterwards, trying to understand) -- and the energy, the precision, the pride, the expertise were phenomenal.   The entire dance took about 2 hours.

Excellent bands of mixed ages lead the procession, and accompany sections of the dance, then move on.  I've come to think that different groups are likely sort of competitive, and clearly take great pride in their delivery of the dances -- I really couldn't explain the energy and joy that was apparent in the dance otherwise.   These were not bored performers performing for tourists.  Mostly the audience lining the streets was locals.  

Here's one of the bands that marched/strutted/swayed in, and hung around to play for a portion of the dance.  

The boots of many dance groups, boys and girls,  had these bells attached.  Oooh!  The stomping sounds!

These were very fluffy bear/ape creatures.  One group of many such beasts.

This is a group of male dancers stomping and  dancing in unison, most impressive.  The kid in front performed throughout the entire parade, mimicking moves, strutting, gestures, often interacting with the performers.  Everyone was fine with it.  He's not long for the sidelines.

This was the only female in pants in the entire dance and she did the stomping moves with one guy; all the other ladies were in showgirl sorts of costumes, mostly stomping, strutting, wiggling in impressive unison.

Typical ladies.

Watching.

More watchers.

The final group of the dance/procession was a cadre of riders in khaki uniforms mostly, and with beautiful and for the most part well-behaved and obedient horses.  They trotted, cantered, galloped, reared up on command - sweet.  One guy from town came galloping into the group at the end, sort of messing up their organized appearance -- seemed like a rogue rider, although folks seemed to know him and steered clear.  Wish I knew the backstory there.

The next day we saw a daytime procession, taking the religious figure, San Jose, for a walk.

Biggest kids in front, nice unison.

Middle sized, then smaller.

I'm pretty sure the boy in the lower right, is the same kid who was  "participating" from the sidelines in the parade from the night before.   Then the littlest kids, below, at the end of the lead part of the procession.

The only rose we saw.

Then the local dignitaries.

And San Jose, on a sky-blue tulle float, on his way to the main church.

It takes four to carry him.

San Jose went back home later in the day, with the same pageantry and procession.