At the corner of Avenida Agustin Gamana with the avenue extension Jr Liberdad, in the northern outskirts of the city of Ayacucho is the "Parque de la Memoria" in which centre stands a metal sculpture with three sides representing the past present and future of Ayacucheños, or inhabitants of the department of Ayacucho.
The past: The covered face of a person shouting, sickle and a hoe, a grenade of the Sendero Luminoso and a rifle of the army and police forces.
The present: A reclined judicial scale, skulls and bones of victims of the violence and an open book which states: "the truth is still been written."
And the future: a broken rifle in which center rises a plant, a dove flying and two hands together in sign of reconciliation.
The department of Ayacucho was one of the areas most affected by the internal armed conflict which affected Peru from 1980 to 2000 between the pro-Marxist guerrilla group Sendero Luminoso and the security forces of the Peruvian government, this conflict has left a balance of about 60,000 dead and many thousands missing, abused, tortured, raped, in the list of violations of human rights.
Inca roads?
We cycled up and down the mountains, in one of the most remote regions of the country where the asphalt has not yet arrived and the main road is only a bunch of rural roads not well marked on our maps and in such a state of deterioration that I question myself whether those stone and gavel back roads would not be the remains of the Inca trails, after all we were heading to Cuzco and Machu Picchu, the center of this vast South American empire.
In this part of Peru the Andean mountains are cut by numerous canyons, creating deep valleys and obstructing the construction of roads. Day after day for nearly two weeks we cycled through these deep valleys and cold and desolate passes, up and down the mountains mercilessly, leading us almost to the limit of our mental and physical affords.
We just had finished to arrive at yet another pass over 4000 meters. I remembered my happiness when I reached the 2500 meters in the slope of a crater in the Yellowstone national park, in the United States, almost 2 years ago. Now, I have lost count to the amount of times I cycled above 4000 meters.
We anticipated the downhill, the reward after a hard climbed and the ecstasy of reaching the pass. But surprisingly, the downhill of 50 kms would take us 2 days to do. The road was in such poor conditions that forced us to descend at similar speeds then the uphill . Joana at some point dismounts and pushes her "Marina" downhill in order to relieve the pain in the hands from breaking and from the discomfort of the saddle, caused by the "jumping" of her bike trying to divert from the rocks, holes, gravel, sand and other obstacles, and also to remove the eyes of the road and admire the Andean landscape. I note the physical and mental suffering on her face.
We were far from idyllic plains and the bike trip we had done together last year when Joana joined me for two weeks in Yucatan, Mexico, where we cycled through absolutely flat landscapes. That was her first bike touring trip and the source of inspiration to bicycle in the Andes. But here in the heart of the continent's highest mountains the reality was different. I felt like shouting her and ask forgiveness on behalf of the mountains and promise that soon would be easier. But I knew it wouldn't. "The next trip we will be riding in the Portuguese Alentejo plains, I promise!", I thought.
After the windy descent we reached the bottom of the valley and then came another climb, more 45 km of loose gravel roads that took us another 2 days to make. The sweat created by the physical effort added to the heat that was felt at the bottom of the valleys, drained the repellent down, exposing the skin to the tiny enemies that followed us all the time, the mosquitoes.
Each day ended in complete exhaustion.
Mira, Gringo ... Gringo!
In the dirt and stone roads between Ayacucho and Abancay through this remote area of Peru forgotten by the central government, few foreigners venture, and the ones who do are a source of great curiosity by the local indigenous population. Sometimes the encounters were so surreal that we felt like two Martians on bicycles.
The approach of our bikes into a village whose adobe houses seemed like extensions of "Pachamama", mother Earth, shaped into rectangular forms, whose inhabitants, many of them still live without electricity or drinking water, was an event watched by many. The hand on the brake and foot on the floor in front of the only "tienda" of the village, meant the confrontation with a crowd of curious children and adults. Before our arrival, with the approach the "burras", the word "Gringo" would fill the air coming from everywhere, as if it was the call for a social event in the Plaza de Armas of the village. Then came the silence and disbelieving eyes of the children. We would buy food and water for the night and leave in search of a place to camp. With the departure of the bicycles the word "gringo" was once again heard, stronger and stronger as we leave the village
On one occasion a child who looked no more than 2 years old sitting on her mother's lap by the side of the road, shouts with her full lungs: "gringo! Gringo." Probably she didn't spoke Spanish yet, but already knew the word "gringo". On another occasion a group of farmers working the land shouted as we passed by: Gringo! Gringo! while various chunks of dirt flew above my head. The sound of the word gringo was becoming so difficult to overcome as a good pass. How does this word has spread so much here in the Peruvian Andean mountains so far its place of origin?
A Mexican friend in Puerto Escondido told me once that the word "Gringo" comes from the Mexican-American war of 1846-1848, when American troops arrived in Mexico City in their green uniforms and were faced with protests from the local community that screamed: "Green go home", "Green go." Since then the word "gringo" is a popular way to identify Americans throughout Latin America, later generalized to any foreigner.
This expression has accompanied me over the months, but in no other part of Latin America Ive herded it so often and with such a strong intonation as in this leg between Ayacucho and Abancay. Though normally no apparent malice exist in the context of the word, around here, it reflects somewhat the resentment that still exists because of the exploitation of the natural resources (gold and others) by foreign multinationals. Bicycle travelers are more exposed to local reality and as a consequence the most vulnerable to the irritation that that word can cause. I have known backpackers travelling in the country who travel by bus from city to city and staying only in hotels recommended by Lonely Planet, that hardly heard the word "Gringo", lucky them!
The "revenge of Atahualpa" - Peruvian version invented by Joanna for her diarrhea and fever, obliges us to stop an extra day in the village of Chincheros, the first village with accommodation after 6 days of cycling. It was time also to relax from the tough climbs, and to change from baby wipes to a real shower!
There were still 5 more days of ups and downs and 180kms until we reached the tarmac 18 kms south of Abancay, where we arrived late through the night.
To be back on the asphalt was a great relief to our mind but not the end of climbs. After Abancay the road climbs 1500 meters without mercy during 35 kms in a continuous switchback turns that ends only in the pass of Abra Sorllaca at 4000m of altitude, where we camp on an abandoned roads with excellent views to the Nevados of Salcantay. And with one more drop to Apurimac canyon and another climb, will finally arrive at the very anticipated city of Cuzco. This stage of 600 kms with more than 10,000 meters of accumulated climb, with 7 passes, 4 of them over 4000m, was without doubt the toughest of the trip so far.
Casa Hogar the Gorriones
I still had a fresh memory of the smiles of the special children's at Casa Hogar los Gorriones, of Ebersom, Luis, Fermin and so many other children of the orphanage of Ayacucho where Joana worked as volunteer for 3 weeks. The sorrow and pain in the eyes of Gil, responsible for the orphanage, at the time of our departure caused by the suffering of knowing that soon his wife, "mother" of the 35 children of the orphanage, would leave them with a cancer in the liver. We came to learn of her death days later by an e-mail.
Gil and Chantal are a Franco-Belgian couple who dedicate their lives to 35 children from the orphanage Hogar Gorriones created by them in 2001. A story whose heroic protagonists transformed the lives of these children by giving them a home, a family and a reason to live. Many of the children are special children with cerebral palsy and other neurological deficiencies, rejected by parents, some were found in boxes of garbage on the street or at some families homes living with dogs, as was the case of Fermin. Those are real and sad histories of many Peruvian children but also stories of hope. Those children marked my passage by Ayacucho. To help them all, a team of volunteers from around the world in which Joana participated feeling much more closely the reality of these children. You can learn more about these realities in her next chronic on her site at constant movements.
Before our farewell, Joana organized a afternoon snack and a slides show of our journey, in which I participate showing parts of our equipment to the fascinated children. A different reality from theirs that we decided to share. The brief moments that I spent there refreshed my spirit and the enriched my soul. Travelling by bicycle is not only about climb mountains, cycle though the unknown or see idyllic scenery, it is also to felt in a more intimate way the reality of the lives of people with whom we cross.
Tomorrow we will visit the ruins of the citadel of Machu Picchu, one of the major tourist attractions not only in Peru but also throughout Latin America and the highlight for many people`s journeys. For me one of the highlights of this difficult stage was the stamped smile in the face of these children.
I remind you that this trip is not only mine, but also of all the special children in particular those of the APPC Leiria with which I give solidarity strokes. If you want to participate in this journey and help the special children can do so by contacting the APPC-Leiria or through this site, details of the charity link.
Nuno Brilhante Pedrosa
In Cuzco, Peru.
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