Monasterio de Santa Catalina

Here we go, with some of my favorite pictures from Peru, from one of my favorite places we visited: The Monastery of Santa Catalina in downtown Arequipa.

A little history before the photography eye-candy:

Shortly after the Spanish invasion of Peru, the founding fathers of Arequipa decided their new city needed a convent. In 1580 a new monastery was built and a wealthy widow decided to move in and become the first resident, and the first prioress. Most likely due to her social connections and class standing, many of the novices she attracted came from the wealthy families of Peru's elite, along with some Incan chieftain's daughters. Girls used to the good life don't always like to leave it behind, despite the ardor of their faith. Many of these novices brought along their servants, slaves, and the fine accoutrements of life they were used to: silver cutlery, porcelain, plush carpets, and European furniture. Not content to just whisper vespers, the women continued to be engaged in their wealthy social circles: parties, musicians, and private visitors were the norm in the monastery.

This happy double-life continued for generations. As the monastery grew and became wealthier from the dowries of its novices, private chambers were erected, so the nuns had their own private gardens, kitchens, and multi-room apartments. It grew so large, about 20,000 square meters, that it took up an entire city block and became a city within a city. It wasn't until the mid-1800s that the Vatican realized the Arequipa nunnery was more a soirée than a place of religious devotion, and a strict Dominican nun was sent over to clean the place up. Too bad, I say: I'm rather jealous of their lives; sounds like a nice arrangement!

Over the years, without the dowries, the monastery never modernized, and entering it today, I felt like I was stepping back into the 16th or 17th century. It was only in the 1970s that the monastery was electrified, and because the nuns had no funds to comply with this new mandatory city code, they opened up the monastery to the public, and have now retired to a small, private section. From a peak of 450 nuns plus servants, there are now about 20 or 30 nuns still practicing their faith in this monastery with a most colorful history.

Now, some pictures. This place is a photographer's dream. You'll see what I mean. I took close to 100 pictures, spending the entire day here. We were also quite lucky as there were very few other visitors that day, so none of our photos were marred by the presence of tourists, and we were free to wander around, get lost, and enjoy the silence and beauty of the place.

One is instructed to be silent, upon entering the first courtyard.

One of the many alleyways, or streets, connecting the various courtyards and nuns' private apartments.

Here is one of the dwellings. Many are still furnished, and the one above shows the simplicity that some nuns lived in. Other apartments were decorated quite lavishly, with velvet-covered furniture and china cabinets filled with fine porcelain.

Above is one of the many private apartment kitchens, still covered with soot. 

The placement of flowers and plants was seemingly random, yet here there seemed to be an art to it. Everywhere I turned, either the architecture, the play of light, or the placement of flowers, captured my eye.

The blue walls were my favorite. Such an intense, rich, saturated blue.

We had such a fantastic day here, pretending to be professional photographers while our imaginations ran wild envisioning the colorful lives of the early nuns.

And to end a most perfect day: a very late lunch at probably the finest restaurant in Arequipa, the Trattoria del Monasterio, a very small restaurant attached to the monastery. Here I enjoyed my belated birthday lunch, with what were soon-to-be addicting pisco sours and just a hint at the marvelous cuisine that Peru had to offer us.

Peru bound!

Attempting to leave Chile to head across the border to Peru was a somewhat confusing experience. Although Audie and I are both conversationally fluent in Spanish, the situation in the taxi/bus terminal in Arica was the kind of hubbub and disorder that confounds language skills. It is possible to either take a bus, which is incredibly slow, or a faster taxi. We wanted to get to Arequipa that night instead of staying in the border town of Tacna, so our option was to hire a taxi. But it's impossible to hire your own private taxi to cross the border, as the taxi drivers prefer to cram as many people as they can into their rickety cars. When we finally realized the situation and managed to find a driver for the price we preferred, I was a little uncertain if this was a legitimate business or a robbery ruse. Getting in the back of a taxicab anywhere in South America is always a bit of a risk, and this taxi already had 3 young men shoved in the backseat, and Audie and I were to squeeze next to the driver in the front. In a situation like this, I always trust my gut and whisper a "C'est la vie" to the world. I haven't had any trouble yet. The six of us had a jolly hour-or-so ride to the border in the driver's dilapidated sedan. He took us through customs and obviously he had a special permit to drive another few miles to the bus station, where he deposited us. 

We immediately knew we were in a new country. It was.....louder....here in Peru. Already there just seemed to be more people, more chaos, and more hustlers. We had no clue how to get to Arequipa, about a 7-hour bus ride away. Luckily it was still early in the morning so we had plenty of time to figure it out. Wandering into the Tacna bus station, one is immediately assaulted by the representatives of the different bus lines and tour agencies. I always ignore the hustlers and search out the quiet person sitting behind a desk. Plus, traveling in Peru one must be aware which is the safe busline to ride for the route you'll be traveling.  Certain bus lines are more prone to robberies and assaults. While I'd done my research on this before our trip, I wasn't sure which buses were available from Tacna. Walking into the din of the bus terminal, I immediately gravitated to a little lady sitting behind a glass window at a travel agency, looking bored. I told her what we wanted, and she ushered us into her quiet office, where we were immediately set at ease by her wonderful Peruvian hospitality and friendly conversation. We bought our bus tickets through her, and as we had a couple of hours to spare before the bus left, she offered us the back room of her office to relax in. When she found out it was my birthday that day, she even gave me a small present. Relaxing in her back room, we got to thinking a few days in advance, about getting from Arequipa to Cusco. I knew I wanted to fly this route, so I asked our little lady to help us out with that too. We bought these tickets from her, but she told us that one of us had to go with her to the LAN office in downtown Tacna to pick up the tickets. Audie volunteered to go, and she asked me to take care of her office while they were gone! She sat me down at her computer by her bank-teller style window, and when they left to find a taxi, I settled in for a good half-hour of free internet and emailing....except, I kept getting interrupted. Passengers were constantly talking to me through the window, asking me about prices and tours and bus tickets, assuming it was my travel agency! There were quite a few shocked faces to hear gringa-accented Spanish telling them I didn't work here, and to come back later! But what a fun situation to be in, on my birthday, my first morning in Peru. 

About ten minutes after they left, I got an email from Audie! It said simply: "Answer the phone!" A couple minutes later, the phone rang and I answered it: "Buenos dias" and Audie was on the line. He knew I'd be on my email, so he emailed me from the LAN office. He was frantic, claiming he had lost his passport, which was needed to pick up the airplane tickets. Did he leave it in the office, perhaps? I checked the back room and his bags quickly, and it wasn't there. When I returned to the phone, I knocked some papers off the señora's desk, and there was his passport! She had needed it to reserve our tickets, and had forgotten it there. I was able to read the passport numbers to Audie on the phone, and they let him have the tickets. And I told him to hurry back, as we only had 20 minutes before our bus left!

The bus ride to Arequipa was fairly uneventful, except for the other tourists we sat next to on the bus who happened to be from, of all places, New Caledonia. We spent a good time swapping traveling tales with them. When we arrived in Arequipa it was pouring rain and dark. We had no hotel reservation, but I knew of a couple of places around the main plaza that I was interested in, so we found a taxi (after much haggling over the price...I knew what a correct price should be after a long "Intro to Peru" visit with my Peruvian friend Jorge in New Jersey before leaving on the trip. Many thanks, Jorge!) and we stayed at the first hotel the taxi driver dropped us at: Casablanca Hostal, right on the main plaza, with the gorgeous sillar (off-white volcanic rock) architecture that Arequipa is famous for.