There are multiple sights to visit around Cotahuasi other than the canyon itself. I decided to check out the village of Pampamarca, where you can hike up to something called the Bosque de Piedras (Rock Forest). When I arrived, the contact person I had been hoping to stay with wasn't in town, so I ended up staying with the lady who lived across the street. I had been told that it would be best to get a guide to go to the Bosque, so I asked if she could organize something for me. The next morning, I saw that my guide would be an eight-year-old girl, Yadira.
I started feeing the child exploitation discomfort again, but was relieved to find out that this was not her full-time job - she goes to school, it was a Saturday, and she had only brought tourists up the trail a handful of times. Plus, it felt like we were just hanging out because she seemed to be having a lot of fun. She ran ahead picking flowers, slid down slopes as though they were a natural playground, and talked to me the entire time. She told me a ghost story which I didn't quite understand (something about a floating head) and listed the flowers' names for me in Quechua. She also rescued me from at least four bees. It was lovely.
At the end of the hike, I asked her how much I owed her and she seemed uncomfortable with the question. I managed to get an answer by asking how much others had given her in the past. This was surprising to me; almost every other encounter I've had with folks in developing countries where there was an exchange of money for services has been about money first, and cultural sharing second (if at all). I reacted with the same surprise when the woman I was staying with asked me for a fraction of what I had been paying for accommodation so far. I realized that I had experienced something that I wasn't expecting in a country with a tourism industry as developed as Peru's: a village's genuine generosity towards a traveler, unaffected by the drive for tourist dollars. I'm really glad I went.
I started feeing the child exploitation discomfort again, but was relieved to find out that this was not her full-time job - she goes to school, it was a Saturday, and she had only brought tourists up the trail a handful of times. Plus, it felt like we were just hanging out because she seemed to be having a lot of fun. She ran ahead picking flowers, slid down slopes as though they were a natural playground, and talked to me the entire time. She told me a ghost story which I didn't quite understand (something about a floating head) and listed the flowers' names for me in Quechua. She also rescued me from at least four bees. It was lovely.
At the end of the hike, I asked her how much I owed her and she seemed uncomfortable with the question. I managed to get an answer by asking how much others had given her in the past. This was surprising to me; almost every other encounter I've had with folks in developing countries where there was an exchange of money for services has been about money first, and cultural sharing second (if at all). I reacted with the same surprise when the woman I was staying with asked me for a fraction of what I had been paying for accommodation so far. I realized that I had experienced something that I wasn't expecting in a country with a tourism industry as developed as Peru's: a village's genuine generosity towards a traveler, unaffected by the drive for tourist dollars. I'm really glad I went.
What a cutie she is! You must be truly off the beaten path if you aren't being consumed by tourism gouging. I also thought it was everywhere.
ReplyDelete