Field Trip to Patchacamac

Once again, Max, Ben and I woke up to the alarm clock. Ben opted out of the run, partly because of the fact that the last two had been so catastrophic. I almost did the same, but decided to suck it up. As it happened, Max and I had the best run yet.
We discovered a park about ten minutes away that had a sidewalk that was clear of people. There were a few walking paths within and a sidewalk that went around the perimiter, which made for passable running. There were even a few other weirdos out shuffling along, getting their daily cardio. On the way back, the two of us kept picking up the pace until we were going at a near sprint along the pedestrian street. All good fun and games until the massive stray dog lunged at us. Fortunately, it was just bluffing, but it kind of took the enthusiasm out of our finish.

Patchacamac is a local archaeological site that Rico told us about which is located about twenty miles outside the city center and consists of a bunch of pre-Incan ruins out in the desert. To get there, we would need to take one of the local minibuses that travel the Pan-American Highway. We walked to the bus stop from Rico's through busy downtown Lima. entering a new district where business seemed to revolve entirely around stores selling construction and mining equipment. The Peruvian business model, it seems, is to have all the same kinds of businesses bunched in one place--hence the proliferation of shoe stores back at the Plaza de Armas.
The busride out, for which we paid about three soles, was visually overwhelming and not in the sense of beauty. We went by entire hills, it seemed like mountain ranges, covered with nothing but buildings of concrete and sheet metal. The sprawl went for miles without break, not even for businesses or stores that I could see. With the good part of town behind us, there was nothing but poor ugly outskirts, that would surely topple in the next earthquake. Every once and a while, I would see a gated community with houses behind barbed wire and walls. As an illustration of the relative wealth disparity between here and home, in America, those houses would have been on the other side of the fence.



As Rico had explained to us, Lima was a town on the grow. Every year more houses blew outward, without plan or aesthetic. Indeed, the sheet metal monotony nearly made it out to Patchacamac. Even when we walked inside the ruins could see another town on a hill nearby, a bud grafted from the ugly growth that stretched from Lima.



Before it sounds like I have disdain upon these communities and their inhabitants, I should add that I am only reporting what I saw: ugly houses and poverty. I don't know enough about the economy or politics of Peru to assign blame. There is no doubt that those experiencing poverty have no choice but to accept their dwellings and that many if not most aspire to live elsewhere. The economy of Peru is apparently growing at its best rate yet, but the drive out of Lima was visual proof that there was a long way to go until quality of life became anything near quality for many citizens.

Patchacamac was the first look that I had of the desert on the ground. The soil was more of a dry powder than it was sand. There was also very little plant life in evidence--no cacti, but rather, meager weeds. It seemed strange that such a parched environment would also have fog, but the sky above was a drab gray. Permanent clouds and no rain was the style around here.
The site had a tiny museum which showcased some of the Wari and Incan artifacts found on site, including weavings and pottery. We finished up quickly and stepped out the other side where we could view the dry hills and an ancient pyramid.



We walked at a leisurely pace out to the main hill which overlooked the site, passing walls of adobe bricks and irrigation ditches. At the top, we had a view of the Pacific Ocean in front of us and the slums behind us. All was veiled in the mist. On the way back, we looked at a few of the signs and passed the pyramid, made of adobe and stone. It had a large ramp leading up its top. It was a shame that tourists weren't allowed to go up because it looked like the perfect finale to an apocalyptic dirtbike race.



The other tourists at the site were almost entirely Peruvian, our for strolls with their families out to the summit. Others spun around the ruins in taxis. I wonder what that fare cost.
I was standing for most of the bus ride back to the city, feeling worn out and getting hungry.

We ate dinner at a restaurant near Rico's place called Hawaii. I indulged in fried eggs over rice alongside a cold glace of papaya juice. To top our meals, each of us had servings of chocolate cake and that was the craziest our evening got.
Back at the apartment, we could hear the sounds of a city living up their Saturday night. The walls throbbed with Reggaetone beats from nearby clubs. Though we thought we'd go out for a few Pisco sours, ultimately the run and the trek amongst the ruins had made us too tired to do anything.