Isla del Sol (на раны)
After spending a night in Puno, we headed to the Copacabana on the Bolivian side of the Lake to visit one the most important Inca centers: Isla del Sol or Island of the Sun. According to Inca mythology, the Sacred Rock on this island is the birthplace of the white bearded creator god Viracocha, of the sun and the moon, and of the first Incas Manco Capac and his sister wife Mama Huaca. A short bus ride took us to the border, which we crossed on our two feet, and then got back onto the same bus for another short ride to Copacabana. In Copa, we found Jurgen, the German guy we met on our previous island tour, and Shin, a Japanese guy studying English and chiropractics in the US. Together, we took the boat to Isla del Sol. Despite its famous name, Copa is a tiny little town without the attractions of its famous namesake in Brazil (which was named in honor of the shrine here), so without wasting any time we all headed straight to the Isla del Sol.
Even before getting onto the boat, Stasya complained about some pains "down there". So, when we got to the island, she decided to take it easy and check into a hotel, while Jurgen, Shin, and I continued on another boat to the north side of the island to see the Sacred Rock. This was a first time Stasya and I have separated in our month and half of traveling. At the Rock, we found an unusual sight. About hundred people gathered next to the rock and were chanting something apparently in Hindu! Many of them had red dots on their foreheads, and they wore modern closing and carried video and digital cameras indicating that they weren't locals, but rather pilgrims from far away. Locals, that sell handicrafts around the rock, were juts as puzzled by the whole ceremony. Across the path, next to the Sacrifical Rock, a band in Andean costumes and wielding native instruments was waiting for the ceremony to end. The ceremony culminated in loud repetitive chanting accompanied by raising hands into the air (toward the sun?), and the band started playing while pilgrims spread into the nearby Labirinth of ruins to take pictures. Then, the band still playing behind them, the whole procession started moving back to village. Since sun was getting lower and lower, we left as well and started our two hour trek back to the south side of the island.
Around 8pm and well after dark, we got to our meeting point, where a man holding a little piece of paper with my name met us and led us to the hotel. Once in the room, I found Stasya literally chained to the toilet seat. She started feeling worse and worse after we split up and checked into the closest hotel near our meeting point. To pass the time while waiting for me and to distract herself, she doodled in her sketchbook and even drew a little TV on the toilet wall in front of her just for laughs. Apparently she was suffering either from a urinary tract infection or a kidney stone, since she had to pee every 30 seconds through excruciating pain. To make matters worse, we left our fully stocked medical kit in our main backpacks in the hotel in Copacabana, so we were stuck on this tiny island with no ERs, no doctors, no meds, and the only way back to mainland was a 1.5 hour ride on a boat with no toilet leaving next morning. Between her bathroom runs, Stasya somehow managed to explain her problem to a friendly Italian couple in the room next door, both psychologists, who gave her some antibiotic (ampicillin). That didn't seem to help at first, since the pain worsened as the night progressed and the urine became pink with blood. Convinced this was a kidney stone, as she had one four years ago, we decided that there's no other option but to keep drinking water to pass it. Many sleepless hours and 3 liters of water later, around 3am, Stasya finally started feeling a little better. She could now go about 30 minutes between bathroom runs, and was able to nap in between. A couple hours later, completely exhausted, she was even able to fall asleep for a few hours.
Next morning we were awakened by the screams coming from right outside of the hotel. As it turned out, the screams were coming from the huge boar that was slaughtered for upcoming New Year's Fiesta. Instead of skinning it, the locals then built a fire around the boar to burn off the hair. In the morning light, we also got a chance to appreciate how nice of a hotel Stasya found. It turned out to be the most expensive hotel on the island, Casa de Ricardo, which normally sells for $20 per double per night, breakfast included. It was listed in our guide in the "Splurge!" category. We, however, were looking for something that cost 20 Bolivianos ($2.50) per person or less. It took Stasya and the lady in the hotel a few minutes to realize that they were speaking in different currencies, but after Stasya gestured that I would cut her head off if she paid more than $2.50 and seeing that she isn't feeling well, the hotel lady took pity on her and let us have the room for $2.50/person w/o breakfast.
As Stasya was feeling a bit better now, strong enough to manage 1.5-2 hours boat ride to Copacabana, we left the island and got onto a first bus to La Paz.
Even before getting onto the boat, Stasya complained about some pains "down there". So, when we got to the island, she decided to take it easy and check into a hotel, while Jurgen, Shin, and I continued on another boat to the north side of the island to see the Sacred Rock. This was a first time Stasya and I have separated in our month and half of traveling. At the Rock, we found an unusual sight. About hundred people gathered next to the rock and were chanting something apparently in Hindu! Many of them had red dots on their foreheads, and they wore modern closing and carried video and digital cameras indicating that they weren't locals, but rather pilgrims from far away. Locals, that sell handicrafts around the rock, were juts as puzzled by the whole ceremony. Across the path, next to the Sacrifical Rock, a band in Andean costumes and wielding native instruments was waiting for the ceremony to end. The ceremony culminated in loud repetitive chanting accompanied by raising hands into the air (toward the sun?), and the band started playing while pilgrims spread into the nearby Labirinth of ruins to take pictures. Then, the band still playing behind them, the whole procession started moving back to village. Since sun was getting lower and lower, we left as well and started our two hour trek back to the south side of the island.
Around 8pm and well after dark, we got to our meeting point, where a man holding a little piece of paper with my name met us and led us to the hotel. Once in the room, I found Stasya literally chained to the toilet seat. She started feeling worse and worse after we split up and checked into the closest hotel near our meeting point. To pass the time while waiting for me and to distract herself, she doodled in her sketchbook and even drew a little TV on the toilet wall in front of her just for laughs. Apparently she was suffering either from a urinary tract infection or a kidney stone, since she had to pee every 30 seconds through excruciating pain. To make matters worse, we left our fully stocked medical kit in our main backpacks in the hotel in Copacabana, so we were stuck on this tiny island with no ERs, no doctors, no meds, and the only way back to mainland was a 1.5 hour ride on a boat with no toilet leaving next morning. Between her bathroom runs, Stasya somehow managed to explain her problem to a friendly Italian couple in the room next door, both psychologists, who gave her some antibiotic (ampicillin). That didn't seem to help at first, since the pain worsened as the night progressed and the urine became pink with blood. Convinced this was a kidney stone, as she had one four years ago, we decided that there's no other option but to keep drinking water to pass it. Many sleepless hours and 3 liters of water later, around 3am, Stasya finally started feeling a little better. She could now go about 30 minutes between bathroom runs, and was able to nap in between. A couple hours later, completely exhausted, she was even able to fall asleep for a few hours.
Next morning we were awakened by the screams coming from right outside of the hotel. As it turned out, the screams were coming from the huge boar that was slaughtered for upcoming New Year's Fiesta. Instead of skinning it, the locals then built a fire around the boar to burn off the hair. In the morning light, we also got a chance to appreciate how nice of a hotel Stasya found. It turned out to be the most expensive hotel on the island, Casa de Ricardo, which normally sells for $20 per double per night, breakfast included. It was listed in our guide in the "Splurge!" category. We, however, were looking for something that cost 20 Bolivianos ($2.50) per person or less. It took Stasya and the lady in the hotel a few minutes to realize that they were speaking in different currencies, but after Stasya gestured that I would cut her head off if she paid more than $2.50 and seeing that she isn't feeling well, the hotel lady took pity on her and let us have the room for $2.50/person w/o breakfast.
As Stasya was feeling a bit better now, strong enough to manage 1.5-2 hours boat ride to Copacabana, we left the island and got onto a first bus to La Paz.