People of the Clouds

    I woke up to the sun rising over the Andes. Riding in a fairly plush bus-cama, with huge windows to either side, the bottle-green mountains rolled and undulated before me. Breathtaking.

     We are now in Chachapoyas, or as its locally known, Chacha. It sits at a comfortable 2,500 meters, surrounded by cloudforest, high-altitude rainforest and hills that are tidily spread like quilts with farmland. The town itself looks almost European; it has a quiet central square (Plaza de Armas) full of roses and palms, overshadowed by a beautiful Spanish cathedral, of whitewashed adobe and red tile roof. The narrow streets are lined with bakeries and shops, and little balconies. We are staying in an old house near the square, with a little balcony all its own. It´s a bright and airy place, but we haven´t been there much. In such a sweet little town, we´ve been strolling the markets and the museums, and guzzling fresh orange juice everyday. The altitude was rough for the first day or so, but some noontime napping fixed that for the most part. It´s cool, but sunny, and cloudy around the fringes of the mountains, and is a lot like Valdez on a sunny day.


   Yesterday we hiked to Gocta, which is boasted as the 3rd-tallest waterfall in the world. In reality, it is the 14th tallest, but the 3rd-longest freefall. As if it matters. To get there, one must hike along the mountains from a town of 200 named San Pablo, about 6 km one way. We were assigned a local guide Albehadro, who was 45, had two children in college and was nimble and fast for his age. The trail passed farms, where sugarcane was being ground by steer power and a stone mill. We crossed grassy, open alpine fields dotted with flowers and butterflies. The trail was lined with banana, coffee and coca plants, as well as wild herbs that perfumed the air as we tramped throught them- sage, cumin, mint, bergamot, patchouli. Maegan found a tarantula! It was teal blue, and slowly abling across the trail, completely unconcerned with us, and about the size of my hand. We eventuallly crossed into the high jungle, which was draped with all account of orchids, including wild vanilla, which bloomed with frilly white flowers. There were so many orchids that I didn´t notice them anymore, from tiny tiger-striped pink ones, to large blue and white clusters. We walked on, past petroglyphs up on the cliff, and a few funerary niches. We found snails the size of apples. Flocks of cock-of-the-rocks and Andean buzzards shrieked overhead. The waterfall itself was of course terrific, but chilly. The ribbon of white faded into clouds halfway down the rock face, grinding the surrounding quartz sandstone  into a white sand. We ate our lunch, and slogged back as it began to rain.