© Richard HuangYesterday, we spent eight hours on a long-distance bus from Cusco to Puno, all to see Lake Titicaca, the “Jewel of the Altiplano.” Straddling the border between Bolivia and Peru on the Collao Plateau, it is South America’s highest and largest freshwater lake. Reeds flourish here, giving rise to the floating reed islands—and those islands were what we had come to see.
© Richard HuangWhen we checked into the Liberto Hotel last night, we booked today’s full-day tour to the “floating islands” inhabited by the Uros people and to Taquile Island. Early this morning, tour boats large and small set off almost in single file, following a channel through the reeds toward the floating islands.
© Richard HuangAbout thirty minutes later, we reached the ticket checkpoint—our first stop on the lake that day.
© Richard HuangThere are dozens of floating islands built from reeds, complete with reed huts, lookout towers, and other structures. Each island is anchored with ropes; untie them, and it can drift across the lake. Legend has it that when the Spanish invaded, the Uros built these artificial islands to escape the fighting, living in isolation far out on the lake.
© Richard HuangFloating islands of every size and a constant stream of tour boats crisscrossed the lake. Women and children on the islands, dressed in brightly coloured traditional clothing, called out to the passing boats, hoping visitors would come ashore. We chose an island that had not yet been overrun by tourists and landed there.
© Richard HuangOur hosts had everyone sit in a circle on a bed of reeds, and then the “demonstration class” began. First came an explanation of how an island is made: blocks of lake mud and reed roots form the base, with layer upon layer of reeds laid crosswise on top to create the ground. The props had all been prepared in advance. Miniature reed houses, little figures, stoves, and other models were placed on the base one by one. With a grand sweep of his hand, the guide declared it finished. And that was the end of the lesson, because the more important shopping session was still to come…
© Richard HuangThe two model stoves caught my eye, so I went looking for the real thing—and actually found them. Even the fuel they burned was reed. It truly seemed to have a hundred uses. Most Uros people, especially the women, were dark-skinned and sturdily built. Perhaps this was because there was little room to move around on the islands, coupled with the relatively high sugar content of all those reeds they ate.
© Richard HuangSpeaking of food, meat on the islands meant fish caught right there in the lake; vegetables meant the ubiquitous reeds.
© Richard HuangThe villagers gave each visitor a peeled reed stalk so that everyone could experience what eating reeds was like.
© Richard HuangThe tourists tucked in with great interest. The reed tasted faintly sweet and astringent, with the full, fresh flavour of grass. For city dwellers, eating grass still felt a little peculiar…
© Richard HuangHaving eaten the grass, we naturally had to try riding in a grass boat. These vessels, woven from reeds and cattails with both ends curved sharply upward, are called totora boats and are the Uros people’s main form of transport.
© Richard HuangThe guide called everyone aboard, saying it would cost ten soles per person and that the money would help pay for education and healthcare for the island’s children. Charity, after all, is always the best excuse both for asking for money and for giving it. And so everyone sprang into action again. As the boat, packed with tourists, rocked across the vast lake beneath a sky that seemed to merge with the water, the ride was undeniably pleasant.
© Richard HuangThese boats serve another special purpose. Space on the islands is cramped, and couples live under the same roof as their children. So when a man and woman want some privacy, they wait for a moonless night and calm water, climb into a reed boat, and paddle out into the depths of the lake…
© Richard HuangThe reed boat took us to a larger island where no one lived; it consisted entirely of shops. The all-important shopping session had begun.
© Richard HuangEverything on sale was described as a local speciality—which, for the most part, meant handicrafts made from reeds. The prices were very low. We bought a miniature woven totora boat as a souvenir.
© Richard HuangThe floating islands have become thoroughly commercialized and geared toward sightseeing. Some reviews say these are no longer traditional floating islands at all, but merely gift shops on the water.
© Richard HuangWe had spent an entire day on a bus to get here, hoping to visit the Uros people and their floating islands in something like their original, deeply rooted way of life. What greeted us instead was a full-fledged tourist attraction.
© Richard HuangFor generations, the Uros were self-sufficient, living with the sky as their blanket and reeds as their mat, with few demands and few desires.
© Richard HuangWere they happy? Perhaps they were.
© Richard HuangSince opening their islands to tourism, they have seen far more of the world and gained many new sources of income. But has their happiness increased?
© Richard HuangIn a place where there was once hardly anything to spend money on, what kind of happiness can this tourist income buy? Whatever the answer, one thing seems almost certain: it has brought them more desires.
© Richard HuangYet on a small island surrounded by water, more desire may also mean more despair…
With mixed feelings, we left the floating islands and headed forour next destination.……