Pt. 2: There Are Sheep On Top Of Our Bus

August17

The bus we took last night goes all the way to Huanuco, but we're not going that far. That was the first indication I don't know exactly what I'm getting into: I understand now that we aren't going to Huanuco proper... but I don't know exactly where we're going. We got off the bus in Ambo.... just like on public transportation in Lima, we had to yell at the driver to be let off where we wanted.

I learned the name of our next destination: Kolpas. That's how its going to go, I think-- I will be fed details little by little, as if on a need-to-know basis. Its a good thing I trust Lucho. We located the small, beat-up bus that would be taking us to Kolpas (sometimes also written as Colpas), tied our things to the top, and set out to enjoy our free our before the next bus ride. We ate breakfast: Quinua and Cachanga (fried dough in the shape of a pancake), took a stroll through town, and bought me a pair of pants that Luis and his aunt had deemed necessary. (I had only jeans, which apparently is unacceptable. We bought a pair of what I would call "bum pants"...a cross between sweatpants and workout pants, perfect for bumming around. Also apparently perfect for walking through the Andes).

Ambo is a dusty town best described as a sea of brown, beige, and dirtied off-white walls: not exactly the Garden of Eden. But I like it-- modest with just the right degree of bustle, no pretensions whatsoever. Bike-wagons, mototaxis, and small motorcycles buzzing around everywhere; internet cafes and cell phone stores being used by men and women in traditional dress, Quechua spoken as frequently as Spanish. A surprisingly crisply maintained main square with fresh paint in bright colors, the obligatory Cathedral, and a statue of the Virgin Mary. Quaint, comfortable: I'm not sure if they actually have hotels, but I wouldn't mind staying a day or two.

The bus to Colpas took approximately two hours, and with my preventative Dramamine and lack of sleep for what is now two nights (1-overnight from the US, 2-overnight from Lima) I slept soundly. Lucho couldn't believe it. The road is... well, its a legitimate road, by non-US standards. Dirt, and full of potholes, ditches, and other things that make you bump, but wide enough for two directions of traffic: a legit road. With my head leaning against the window, I couldn't begin to count the number of times I got slammed -hard- against the glass. How I slept... and how I didn't come away with a pounding headache... I have no idea.

The bus itself warrants description. It is small, about half the size of a school bus. The seats are worn, with gaping holes in the cloth. Some of the seats aren't well bolted down, so that with every bump the seat -and passenger in it- jump a foot in the air. Other seats have broken backs, and the passenger has no choice but to travel in full recline: his head in the lap of the passenger behind him. No one seems to mind, though. Maybe they can't imagine a bus ride any other way. Half the passengers are in traditional dress, all speak Quechua. I hear a cat meowing and some chirping chicks, although I'm not sure which passenger has them in his bag. All of the bags are strapped in a tottering pile atop the bus; there are some animals up there as well (a pig, some sheep?) and additional passengers that didn't fit inside.

(to be continued...)