How great it feels to be out exploring for the purpose of photography again! Peru is so incredible and so unique in this regard. The geographical diversity is like nowhere I’ve been, but above all, the Andean people and their culture… What I regularly see here is special.
“I just came back from a quick trip to an area I’ve been wanting to explore for a while. ”
I’m skipping a few posts that I should have made earlier from the festivals that I attended, but I am just too excited to share these, most recent images.
I just came back from a quick trip to an area I’ve been wanting to explore for a while.
“There, people live in some incredibly rough conditions, just as their ancestors have, for who even knows how long. ”
Behind the town of Ollantaytambo in the “Sacred Valley Of The Incas” there’s a narrow dirt road that goes towards the high mountains. After reaching the highest point, the road splits. One part takes you down to the jungle. Another continues towards the village of Lares, with its hot springs.
There are traditional villages all around. There, people live in some incredibly rough conditions, just as their ancestors have, for who even knows how long.
I’ve been wanting to get a glimpse of this area. The other day, I finally went.
One of the main activities of the people in these mountains is raising llamas and alpacas. You frequently encounter these animals crossing the road or grazing on the sides of the road. I guess as a foreigner I’m still a sucker for this Peruvian symbol. I still can’t resist making at least a few frames when I get a chance.
“This was probably the fastest descent and the quickest change of geography that I’ve experienced in Peru. ”
After reaching over 4,300m above sea level, I followed the road that would take me into the jungle. This was probably the fastest descent and the quickest change of geography that I’ve experienced in Peru.
There isn’t much vegetation. In fact, at an altitude of over 4000m, there isn’t much of anything. But, as I kept descending, my surroundings got greener and greener.
After only about two hours, I was surrounded by what’s considered “Selva Alta”, or the high jungle here in Peru. You can see the kinds of hairpin turns that I was navigating. There were MANY of them! There’s simply no other way to get down so quickly.
“No matter how many times I make this kind of journey, I’m always blown away. ”
I got down to about 900m above sea level. A totally different world! No matter how many times I make this kind of journey, I’m always blown away.
Everything changes. There are countless water streams that flow from the glaciers through the forest and end up spilling onto the road. The jungle itself buzzes with sounds of insects, birds, and distinct energy that can only be understood once you experience it yourself.
“I absorbed the air, the smells, the sounds of the jungle. Even this short visit recharged me! ”
I stayed in the jungle for only one night. It rained in the morning. The smell of wet soil and plants was almost overwhelming.
I showered in a small waterfall. I absorbed the air, the smells, and the sounds of the jungle. Even this short visit recharged me!
I decided to do a loop that would take me through the high Andes again. After all, my main aim was to explore more of the traditional Andean villages. I’m not planning to stay in Peru much longer, and there’s nothing like these villages anywhere else outside of Peru and maybe Bolivia.
I drove through another part of the jungle and a dry forest towards that village called Lares, famous for its hot springs. I camped above it next to an icy river.
The next morning I kept driving up. Again, I was in an area where very few plants grew, and where only the toughest of people live.
“Vendors come from the surrounding areas, bringing products, which are nowhere to be found here. The market is the village’s connection to the outside world. ”
As luck had it, the first village I passed in the morning was having its market day. Markets are a big deal in remote Andean villages. Vendors come from the surrounding areas, bringing products, which are nowhere to be found here. The market is the village’s connection to the outside world.
Almost everyone comes out of their homes, dressed in their best, traditional outfits. Part of the reason is to stock up on produce. Another part is to socialize while drinking Chicha, a fermented Andean drink made from corn.
A couple of women came to sell the food that they cooked. There was Andean trout, chicken soup and potatoes. I got the trout.
After seeing very few people along the road, suddenly, there were many little fragments, bits of life all around me at the market.
“Sure, I drew a lot of attention to myself just because I was the only foreigner there, probably for a while. But, the camera didn’t attract much attention at all. ”
I actually decided to “un-retire” my small Sony a6400 camera that I hadn’t used for a while. I’ve been wanting to try it out again in candid situations. I didn’t want to kick up a big fuss with a larger camera and a bigger lens. I mostly had the 28mm f2 for these market photos.
Sure, I drew a lot of attention to myself just because I was the only foreigner there, probably for a while. But, the camera didn’t attract much attention at all. I managed quite a few images where the people were pretty much unaware of me making photos.
There were a few characters at the market. In this part of the Andes even children often wear traditional clothes, for the most part, because it still makes the most sense for families financially. The ponchos and the hats are made by women, many of whom are still experts at this.
More people kept arriving. I’d capture some of them against this mud-brick wall. I was met with curious gazes. I imagine it made no sense to them that a foreigner was hanging around their market by himself, without a group that was doing a hike or something along those lines.
“Something that’s pretty distinct in the Andes is people’s footwear. They’re sandals made from tire-rubber. ”
While most markets around Peru sell predominantly the same, disposable made-in-China products, this market had a strong local vibe. Something that’s pretty distinct in the Andes is people’s footwear. They’re sandals made from tire-rubber.
Even in the incredible cold, this kind of footwear is pretty much all you’ll see on people, if they’re not barefoot! I told you, those who live here are tough!
Interestingly, you’ll rarely see the ubiquitous crocs in the high Andes. But… as I looked closer, I was surprised that the tire-rubber sandals were decorated with colorful flowers. The idea surely came from the expensive clip-on decorations that sell for Crocs. Local ingenuity meets globalization!
The main decorative attire for women in these parts? Their bowl-like hats, with flowers on top. Not everybody has them. It seems that the older women are particularly fond of the flowers.
I hung around the market for at least a couple of hours. It wasn’t big in size. I’d look around and when I’d see someone in a more quiet situation, not too busy compositionally, I’d try a photo. This girl got very shy when I approached her. She smiled and as I pointed my camera, she kept averting her gaze.
Trucks came from the valley that I had just been in the day before, bringing fruits and vegetables. Those from the settlements closer to the market brought their produce on horses or in sacks, by foot.
“As much as I enjoy these journeys, it’s tough to continue without my daughter. Even tougher, when things aren’t too exciting photographically.”
My plan for the day was to make it home to my girls by evening time. I had been away for 3 days and the last time I had phone signal, my daughter was asking me to “Please come home today!” As much as I enjoy these journeys, it’s tough to continue without my daughter. Even tougher, when things aren’t too exciting photographically.
Today was exciting photographically, and since it was still early on in the day, I decided to take a short road that led to a dead-end, just to see what was there.
At the end of the road was a village. I drove until I couldn’t continue. Not many people were outside. As I was making a turn, I saw a boy. Soon, his grandmother approached. I was chewing Coca leaves to avoid altitude sickness. I offered some to the grandmother. This is a nice gesture in the Andes and a good way to engage with people. Coca is a sacred plant. Beyond that, it’s consumed by pretty much everybody.
The grandmother’s face lit up. She spoke almost no Spanish, but managed a “Muchas gracias!” As I was leaving, she kept saying something to her grandson. I could only make out “Coca”. The boy was too shy to translate, but as she kept saying it and as I kept insisting, he explained “She’s asking if you have more Coca. Maybe to sell to her.”
I had another small bag in the car, so I quickly got it and gave it to the woman. “Gracias! Gracias!” she exclaimed. I was told that the market only comes here every second week. Since Coca doesn’t grow in the high mountains, the woman must not have had many opportunities to stock up.
“ In such remote places, children often don’t know what to make of you. If you ask too much, they prefer to get away and observe from a distance.”
I drove back and noticed a brightly-painted blue house with children hanging around outside. I asked the oldest one if it was ok to make photos. She nodded. I made a few frames. I asked the children questions, what were their names, and how old they were. They became shy and went inside. In such remote places, children often don’t know what to make of you. If you ask too much, they prefer to get away and observe from a distance.
This girl was different. She was very confident and curious. She was four years old, she told me, looking at me, then into the camera. Even when the others went inside the house, she sat on the bench outside and just stared at me.
My next encounter was with a family whose house was at an intersection where the road split in different directions. I stopped here before to ask about the dead-end road.
“In the Andes, people are usually pretty reserved with strangers. In some places, they’ll gladly engage in small talk, but it’s rare that I’ve been invited to someone’s home. Of course, I couldn’t resist. ”
I parked at the side of the road to check my GPS. They saw me and invited me in. In the Andes, people are usually pretty reserved with strangers. In some places, they’ll gladly engage in small talk, but it’s rare that I’ve been invited to someone’s home. Of course, I couldn’t resist.
Soon I was given camomile tea and baked potatoes. “We have a homestay.” A young woman told me. So that’s why they invited me in, I thought. But they weren’t insisting. They just wanted to share. Just in case I was interested.
One woman and the older girl were spinning alpaca wool. The younger girl was doing her homework. “Is there a school in this small village?” I asked. “Yes, but only primary. For secondary, the children have to travel to Ollantaytambo, 1.5 hours away.” Replied the same woman who had just told me about the homestay.
“Are you all family?” I asked. “Yes. Except her.” The woman who was spinning alpaca wool was a friend visiting from the next village.
“In the case of this young woman, she came from a village that’s not quite as remote. A village, where tourists regularly pass through. So, that was the explanation for her confidence and somewhat entrepreneurial character! ”
The woman who invited me in was the mother of the three children in the house. The elderly woman was her mother-in-law. As in many cultures, it was customary for the bride to join the husband’s family.
In the case of this young woman, she came from a village that’s not quite as remote. A village, where tourists regularly pass through. So, that was the explanation for her confidence and somewhat entrepreneurial character!
It started to rain and it was cold. I asked if I could sit next to the fire in the corner of the kitchen for a bit. I was given a chair. We talked. I made photos. We exchanged WhatsApp numbers. Though I’m not sure how often they check their messages since there’s zero signal in their village.
As I left, a teenage boy, the son of the young mother was sent to do some chores in his mother’s village. He took his bicycle and set off.
Just as I began to drive, I saw his colorful poncho in the distance. Against the drab-colored mountains and the grey sky, it looked even more striking, almost out of place.
I stopped the car and shouted out, asking him to wait. Out of breath from just a small run because of the altitude, I asked why he wasn’t taking the road. “It’s a shortcut. I don’t want to ride uphill.” He replied. “How long will it take you to get to the village?” I continued. “About two hours.” Said the boy. “Alright, keep going then!” I made a few frames of him moving away, in his colorful poncho against those drab mountains and the grey sky.
Have you dreamt of setting off on an amazing photographic adventure in one of the world’s more fascinating countries? I’ve organized a similar adventure (much longer and more diverse) with my friend and fellow photographer - Nicolas Castermans. It’s in Peru.
It goes from the mountains to the jungles and to the mountains again, taking in some mind-blowing scenery and exposing you to some of the most traditional regions in the country. It’ll be an adventure of a lifetime! Click above to find out more!
