Chapter 3, Part 2: Un Cielo Lleno de Estrellas
Amantani Island, Lake Titicacaca, Peru
Robert, Cora, and Rosario had been sailing for a little more than four hours from Puno to Amantani Island, 45-minutes of which were spent on a stop-over in one of the floating reed islands of Uros where senor Crawley obviously enjoyed taking lots of pictures with his mirrorless camera.
From their front row seats in the lancha, they can already make out the shape of isla Amantani as if fading in from the point where the horizon and the lake waters blurred.
"That's isla Amantani, senora." Rosario pointed out. "We are almost there!"
Senora Crawley strained her neck to see the island through the front windows of the boat. Excitement showing on her face.
Dios mio, she looks younger, almost like a teenager, whenever she is excited, Rosario noted.
Senora peered closer to make out the barren terraced island and turned to senor Crawley who is now peering through his side of the window also trying to see it from his vantage point. "Isn't it beautiful, Robert?" A few scatterings of houses dotting the hillside looked quite picturesque and Rosario was guessing that senor Crawley could not wait to take pictures.
The couple wanted so much to experience life in Lake Titicaca, the last place in Peru that they scheduled to see before they fly to Chile to see an old friend of senora Crawley. They suggested staying in one of those traditional mud houses in the island which function as guest houses for tourists. At first, Rosario was having second thoughts about the idea. She looked at the couple: regal and obviously of highly considerable means…they may not feel very comfortable staying in a small clean house that offers simple accommodations.
She made this clear to them. She suggested lodging them in Amantica, an inn with a very good view of the lake and the starry night skies. But the couple assured her that they would not have any problem staying in the village, they stayed in mud houses in the Maasai Mara in Kenya before. This seemed to partly assuaged Rosario's apprehensions although she secretly made reservations for the couple at Amantica just in case.
After a few minutes of waiting, they docked safely and the three disembarked the boat and walked towards dry land. Senora Crawley carried a regular sized backpack and a cross body bag her dark brown hair tousled by the breeze. Senor Crawley had with him the larger, heavier rucksack, his hands occupied by his camera bag and a canvas bag filled with different goods—candles, bread, fruits—which they bought in Puno to give to their hosts as a token of gratitude. This has always been part of the local custom and Rosario informed them of this.
At the dock stood the "mamas" and "papas" who will host the arriving tourists in their homes. Rosario exchanged a few words in Quechua with the group and a 40-something woman with ruddy cheeks and colorful traditional dress quietly ushered them.
Rosario motioned for Robert and Cora to follow. The group walked in silence past a patch of grassland where sheep grazed freely and up to the hills where groups of houses form a close community, their footsteps making soft dull thuds on the brick paths. Senor and senora Crawley were also quiet most of the walk, occasionally exchanging glances when they're not glancing at Rosario for her cues. Every now and then, the two would pause to look back at the magnificent view of the lake below. To break the awkwardness, Rosario would chatter here and there explaining the life of the people, the customs, beliefs, and rituals.
They reached their assigned house at the end of narrow paved street. The house is two-story made of mud brick which are almost the color of Terracotta. Again, the "mama" motioned for them to go in. Robert looked at Cora, the look in his eyes and the movements of his brows seemed to communicate something: as if this quite motions is not only making him quite awkward but may also be entirely new to him.
The door to the house was a little low considering that it was not built for very tall people. For a while senor Crawley lingered outside the door while his wife let herself into the house. Realizing that he was still outside, she turned back, reached for his arms and steered him in. "Come on in now, Robert!" Her voice was low but commanding. Senor Crawley had to bend a little through the door and the three of them shared a low chuckle about it.
Inside, the house is very clean. They were given two rooms on the second floor. There was a basic toilet downstairs. There was no running water. Water is drawn from somewhere and stocked in containers. This house has limited to no electricity. From time to time Rosario would scan the faces of her wards to see their reaction to their accommodations. The couple though seemed to take things in stride.
"What do they call it in English? Flexible?" Rosario whispered to herself.
They have adjoining rooms. There is a small sala with reclining wicker chairs facing an open window with the view of the beckoning blue lake. The couple deposited their bags inside their room and went back to the sala where Rosario was waiting. In just a few moments, their "mama" served them their late lunch which her sister was cooking in the open flame in the kitchen.
"The people here are vegetarian." Rosario remarked as if to signal the couple to lower their expectations if the veal and mutton and lean chicken breasts that they had in Lima are still in their minds.
Bowls of steaming quinoa, potatos, vegetables, cheese, and tea were served.
"Hmmm, looks delicious. It's so healthy! Muchas gracias!" senora Crawley complimented "mama's" cooking. Senor Crawley nodded his thanks. The "mama" left them shortly.
Senora begun to ladle her plate with food after they washed their hands in the basin. "I'm feeling quite famished!" urging Rosario to start eating. She glanced at her momentarily speechless and immobile husband, a look of concern crossed her face. "Are you okay, darling? You're very quiet."
But her concern was immediately replaced by her characteristic playfulness. After a few seconds, the senora put down her plate her body shaking trying to contain her laughter while looking at her husband.
"Cora…". Senor found his tongue back.
"You've got to eat your vegetables, Robert." Senora was still trying not to laugh.
Rosario started to worry about senor Crawley. He may not have liked the food.
"Lo siento por la comida, senor."
She started to apologize but he cut her out gently, "No, no, do not worry Rosario. I am actually okay with the food. I eat a lot of vegetables. It's just these things, the lack of interaction…they are quite new to me, that's all."
Senora Crawley gave senor his plate and pushed some of the bowls towards him. Her husband took a helping of the quinoa and the steaming vegetable. He also had the potatoes and cheese. They finished off their meal with cups of tea. They found the food rather good. He found the food rather good!
Gracias a Dios! In relief, Rosario felt like she could offer a novena to the high heavens.
By 2:30, the "papa" has arrived to take them sightseeing. He was also mostly quiet so Rosario and senora Crawley kept the banter for senor Crawley.
They went to the centro where they spotted the adobe church and took pictures. Senor Crawley asked his wife and Rosario to pose before the closed door and took a picture of them. Senora crawley stood tall beside Rosario, her right hand on her shoulders pulling her closer while her left hand held the wide brimmed summer hat in place as a stronger breeze threatened to snatch it from her head.
From the main square, the "papa" took them to a hike, to one of the mountain peaks in the island (Pachamama). Wherever you look, the view was stunning.
"Oh, God! This is heaven!" senor Crawley exclaimed looking down at the blue lake, the thin wisps of white clouds sweeping just above the lake, and the barren, grass covered landmass under and around him. He had enough pictures to fill a memory card!
"So, how is this different from walking in the English moors, senora?"
"Oh, this is so different. The moors are bleak and desolate in the winter months. Its beauty lies in its almost frigid nature. In the summer, the moors wake up with colors and walking in it is a wonderful, invigorating experience. Here, the land is barren save for the green grass cover and the scatterings of pink flowers that's contrasted by an indigo sky and lake. The experience is exhilarating. The moors and this are both beautiful in their distinctive ways."
Senor Crawley stopped for a moment to pick a fuchsia cantuta flower.
After a 90-minute hike, they reached Pachamama peak. The four of them stood quietly trying to catch their breath. In the Andes region, if you do not take things in stride, one will definitely feel dizzy because of the high altitude.
By then, magenta streaks started to paint the sky and the electrifying blue horizon started to get muted. The sun and everything that it casts its light upon started to assume a yellow orange tinge. The world around them started to smolder, even senora Crawley's face glowed in the red-orange radiance of the sunset.
Rosario spotted senor Crawley edging closer to his wife though she stood one step above him. He reached out his right finger to tuck her wayward strands behind her ears but what followed was not what she expected to see. Senor Crawley brought out the flower he picked on their way and put it on senora's ears while he smiled. Rosario could tell he was trying to be romantic. The atmosphere on top of the peak shifted; the sunset was suffused with magic.
In a low voice that is supposedly only just for senora, but the wind carried it to Rosario's ears anyway, senor was paying his wife the sweetest public compliment that Rosario had ever heard him say throughout their tour. "Ah, there…Cora, you look as beautiful as that flor del campo."
Then he snapped a picture of her with his camera.
"Come here, darling." Senora Crawley beckoned for her husband and reached out to straighten the twisted collar of his shirt. She cupped his face ever so gently with both hands, their profiles backlighted by the golden sun. Rosario was surprised to realize she was actually waiting for senora to kiss her husband. But senora didn't. That gesture was more than enough.
They broke contact, senora walked towards where Rosario was, the "papa" standing somewhere giving them the space to explore the place, and senor took pictures of the sunset.
After a while, they started their walk back to the village.
After the dinner, the "mama" and "papa" came upstairs to dress the three of them in traditional garb. The "mama" worked deftly on senora and Rosario as did the "papa" on senor Crawley. Senora was once again trying to quell her laughter while she was looking at her husband. Senor was too tall and a few sizes bigger for his garb.
"What's funny, Cora?" he inquired from his wife but in a lighter tone.
Before they went out of the house, she tried to steal a photo of him with her phone but he caught her. "Cora…" he complained.
"What?"
"Come on, delete that." Senora shook her head, her expression playful.
"Please, delete that…what would Mary, Edith, and Tom say."
"They'd find this funny and they'd love you even more."
But senor was not convinced, he lunged for the phone but senora managed to elude him.
"Oh, Robert! Really…" Exasperation was in her voice and her husband immediately raised his hands as a sign of resignation and left the matter.
Rosario enjoyed watching all this. The ability to play has got to be a part of the recipe of un buen matrimonio.
Once again, they found themselves being herded quietly to the village center where they joined the other tourists and locals in a night of dancing. Senora was very game. She joined the dancing and every now and then she had to guide her husband who, Rosario was certain, was feeling quite awkward and shy. At one point, as Rosario was enjoying the sight of the senora having fun, Robert leaned and whispered conspiratorially to her, "You have not seen her mother, Rosario."
They went back to the house after an hour. Senor was talking with Rosario in those wicker reclining chairs while they sat looking at the stars in the clear Andean sky.
"Beautiful! How I wish I could bottle them up and bring them back to England to decorate the night sky, Rosario." Senor stretched his long legs.
"We have our share of beautiful nights there though and Cora and I would usually go out at night just to gaze at the stars."
Rosario has never thought senor Crawley to be naturally poetic but he does sound like one whenever he lets his guard down.
Inside the room, senora was rummaging through her backpack.
"If they are only like las luciernagas, senor. We can capture some of them with our hands and each of us will have a share of this night sky."
The senor threw a side glance at Rosario. "I'd send some to my mother-in-law in New York. God knows she hasn't seen one in ages."
He chuckled but turned serious again. "But that would also be worrisome, Rosario. What if others take more of what they can and leave less for the others until there would be no more stars left in the skies for all of us?"
This conversation is beginning to reveal to Rosario senor Crawley's character. Honorable. Digno. Razonable.
"Darling, could you light up a candle for me please? I need to go wash downstairs." Senora Crawley called from the bedroom disturbing the thoughtful exchange between the two.
After an hour, all of them have freshened up and were dressed in pyjamas. They went back to the sala to continue gazing at the enchanting night sky until the lighted candles are extinguished.
"This is a pyjama party!" Senora Crawley cracked the silence.
"Yes, a pyjama party in a thousand-and-one-star hotel!" Senor Crawley joined in.
Rosario laughed with the couple but inside her is a nagging feeling that she would miss them for quite some time. She had the feeling that the next few clients she will have in the future couldn't quite compare to this couple. That would be unfair, of course. The Crawleys are now her most favorite tourist couple of all time. This is their last night together before they sail back to Puno, drive back to Cusco, fly to Lima from there, and go their separate ways. She's beginning to feel a stab of separation anxiety but she tried her best to ignore it. In this business, you cannot expect a client-tour guide relationship to last forever.
Once the candle in the sala had burned out, they bid each other goodnight.
Rosario was ready for bed when she heard a soft knock on her door. She opened it to see senora standing outside.
"Rosario, I just want you to know how pleased we are to have you as our companion in all of our Peruvian adventures. Before we forget, Senor Crawley so wanted to give you this." She thrusted the envelope she's holding to Rosario's hand.
"Please, do not open it until you get to your house in Lima." Then, unexpectedly, senora embraced her before bidding good night once again.
Rosario remained glued to her place for a while. The warmth of senora's embrace seemed to provide a momentary comfort to her tired bones and her citrusy verbena fragrance lingered on her skin and clothing. After a while she turned back to her room and went to sleep dreaming of nights under a thousand-and-one starlit skies.