On Sunday evening at 5 p.m. the power went out - a tree had fallen beside the flood-weakened river bank and taken out the power lines to the whole town and the upstream communities as well. The hydroelectric station is downstream from us, near Machu Picchu. I'm convinced that the river walls are weak because the rocks are locked in place with concrete masonry instead of stacked up free-floating rocks like the Incas would have built. We read by candlelight and had a longer sleep than usual. The power came on again at about 10:30 Monday morning. Good thing, once again, that we had no guests in the building. Four guests arrived on Monday, all of them exhausted by airline delays and heavy rain while being driven down from Cusco.
Before Ruth got here on Monday morning (late again - I think she's been on time for work twice in six weeks) the milk lady came with her daughter. I got Deb out of bed to make that purchase because I wasn't sure how much to buy and what to pay. I did the dishes from the night before - it had been too dark to see if we were getting them clean, so we just left them until the morning.
The day went well, but for the most part we sat and waited to meet the guests, who were delayed. The first couple had not arranged their train tickets in advance, so they raced down to the station and were lucky enough to get a mid-day train to Machu Picchu.
The second couple arrived five hours overdue, and included a young lady in a miniskirt and platform sandals. I don't know where she thought she was coming to. I was sure she'd twist an ankle on the cobblestones. They went down to the plaza for dinner in the evening with no raingear, and the power went out again. The town was plunged into pitch darkness, and they had to walk home up an unfamiliar street between stone walls, on cobblestones, with a ditch full of running water on one side. Cesar and Gregorio went to look for them in all the restaurants with a flashlight, while I set up candles along the path and at the front gate. Then the rain began. Cesar and Gregorio couldn't find them, and came back alone. Fortunately the power came back on a half an hour later, including the recently repaired streetlights on our "street", so they were able to find their own way home, somewhat soaked and bedraggled. They had to get up at 5 a.m. the next morning to make it to their train to Machu Picchu.
We make lots of friends here at the lodge - people who travel do that - and we swap email addresses, business cards, and invitations to visit each other. Mariane, Thomas and son Calvin gave us a bag of Calvin's clothes for Kiya Survivors, and invited us to stay at her apartment in Costa Rica if we ever travel there. They actually live in Tampa, where she is completing a doctorate in gerontology. She speaks fluent Spanish, having grown up in Costa Rica, and Thomas is German, so Calvin is working on becoming trilingual.
The power went out for the third time in a day just after lunch, shutting down the internet router; Gemma had a small fit: "I hate this place! Join the 21st Century!!" That was her second fit of the day - the first one was bigger, she tells us, when the hot water cut out in the middle of her shower while her hair was full of shampoo; which had also happened to Deborah this morning. The air was blue from both ends of the lodge. But the sun was shining and it looked gorgeous outside, so I teased Gemma about how enchanting Ollantaytambo is.
Ruth worked hard cleaning today, while Pancha did the biggest weekly shopping trip, which happens every Tuesday. The new Helpxers, Mike and Monica, arrived - I put their travelling blog link in my last entry. We spent a few hours giving them an orientation to the lodge, village and region. We walked with them down to the plaza to introduce them to some of the choices of places to eat, and we arranged a trip to Moray and Salineras for this Thursday with the four of us in the car. Then we took them to Puka Rumi to have dinner together. They were a nice couple.
On Wednesday we visited the Kiya Survivors school, which by all outward first appearances gets ten out of ten for a responsibly run charity. The staff and volunteers seem committed and cheerful, and the grounds and facilities are marvellous by Peruvian standards. Kiya is a UK based foundation, but Alan Harman's Alma Foundation funds their Outreach program, and one of their newer programs in Life Skills. We spent an hour or so doing some last checking of the receipts for the year and then Julia gave us the receipt book to deliver to Alan when we get back to Scarborough. Here's what we saw.
Next diary entry: Farewell to Apu Lodge
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