Maras Salt Mines

The view from outside our room.

Despite the exhaustion of the past couple of days, I woke up at 4:30am this morning (having gone to bed at 8:30).  Once it was light out I stepped outside to get a look at our hotel, which we’d seen only in darkness the night before.  It did not disappoint.  It’s built in a 17th century monastery, with old stone walls, twisting passages, and flowering courtyards.  Mountains tower over it on all sides.

Another view into the Sacred Valley.

Today we were easing into our volunteer service with a visit to the Anta Home for Girls, a home run by nuns for girls who are orphaned or whose families can’t take care of them.  Our Peruvian leader, Jaime, was very anxious that we arrive on time.  (“The nuns,” he said, “they are not relaxed about time.”)  But on our way to the bus our American leader, Van, couldn’t resist a quick side trip into the backyard of the hotel to show us the “center of magnetic resonance” (I’m still not sure what that means), an area low in the ground with a strange stone structure that is apparently some sort of ancient massage chair.  He wanted us all to try it to see how comfortable and relaxing it was, so we were a little late for the nuns.

Luckily they didn’t seem to hold it against us.  The little girls at the home were thrilled to see Van, who visits regularly.  They poured into the van, full of smiles and hugs for everyone.  Despite their difficult circumstances, they seemed to be some of the happiest children I’ve come across.

Today the adults were working with newborns, giving baths and supplying new diapers and outfits.  The teens had a great time running around with the little girls from the home, painting nails and playing tag.  When we were heading out for a tour, a little girl beckoned us in to the courtyard — and we found ourselves in a raucous jump rope competition.  Caroline gets extra credit for attempting to jump with a small child on her shoulders.

Later a volleyball game broke out, and we were amazed at how good the girls were and wondered how they’d learned.

Then Mother Superior arrived:

How cool is this nun?

After leaving the girls, with promises to return in a couple of days, Van took us to the Maras Salt Mines.  (I should mention here that all our travels are by bus, and (1) that the views are so incredible all the time — the towering mountains are never out of sight; and (2) the bus drivers here deserve some kind of medal.  Our driver has had to navigate narrow, winding streets with literally only a few inches of clearance on each side, and, more concerningly, narrow dirt mountain roads with sheer drops that are two-way but not wide enough for two cars.  One of our scariest moments was when we were on such a road, headed to the salt mine, on the outside lane, and saw another bus approaching from the opposite direction.)

Anyway, the salt mines were incredibly cool.  At a place where warm, salty water runs out of the mountains, the Inca built a huge system of terraces (these guys were the masters of terraces) and an irrigation system so that salty water could be routed into a shallow pond and left to evaporate, leaving a harvest of salt.  There are a vast number of ponds that are owned and farmed by individual families from the area.

Native Peruvian hairless dog. Called by our guide, “the ugliest dog in the world.”

We hiked down to and along the salt terraces, sometimes on a very narrow path with a stream on one side and a drop on the other.  We made it all the way down to the bottom of the Sacred Valley to the river.  Zoe declared it the “coolest day ever”.

Bonus pic: Grumpy llama.