A Lesson

I seldom found friends who would come with on some of my odder trips around Peru so I often went alone. This is about a brief two hour spell during a trip I made up to the Callejon de Huayllas which is sometimes called the Switzerland of South America.
I took the Carretera Panamericana northward out of Lima on one of the many buses you see careening at ridiculously high speeds, top heavy with loads of boxes, suitcases, cages with livestock on the roof. Inside much the same, more boxes, livestock but not caged, and people .... lots of people .... a mix of cholos, indios de la sierra, middle class businessmen, children, babies ... loud babies ... and one skinny, seventeen year old white boy blending right in.
Ten hours on the bus to Chimbote, then a narrow gauge train ride up to the northern end of the Callejon. Back to a bus, more indios, more quechua than spanish spoken. Off the bus in the quaint town off Yungay. Meal. Then heaving on a ridiculouly heavy pack, I hiked east out of town and up away from the setting sun. Dusk found me a few miles above Yungay and so I stopped and set up my tent. Stove to comfort with warmth and food, then into my sleeping bag with a book and headlight.
A little while later, some scratching on the side of the tent. The occupant nervously poked his head out of the tent. A small boy, a quechua indian boy said, "mi papa suelta los perros en la noche. Es peligroso quedar aqui." So, the thought of loose dogs on the prowl got me up and out of my tent.
An hour later I was back in Yungay booking into the first clean hotel I found. Slept dreaming of dogs. And so ended my first night in the Callejon.

More to come