Bob and Ko's Peru Picture Gallery

 
 
 
 
 

Pacific Coast

The lowlands of Peru lying along the Pacific coast represent one of the three major climate zones in that country -- the others being the Altiplano highlands and the Amazonian jungle. The coastal region is a barren, desolate, forlorn, desert wasteland, punctuated by smallish oases, of which Lima is one, created by rivers wandering down from the mountains out to sea.

And this area also appears to be very poor, depressingly so. Even the approach into Lima airport comes in over horribly poverty-stricken shantytowns. Driving south from Lima, small ramshackle groupings of buildings dot the roadside. Many of the buildings and the omnipresent brick walls, many of which do not appear to divide anything meaningful from anything else, are covered with political slogans from the campaign which occurred in the first half of 2000, ending in Fujimori's victory in the disputed and boycotted run-off election. If half the paint and human energy used to paint these banners on crumbling walls in the desert had been devoted to productive purposes, Peru would certainly be a better place.

Lima. Most visitors to Peru will start in Lima, on the Pacific Coast. Bob and Ko were no exception, arriving in Lima and spending a couple of days there. From the standpoint of tourists, Lima has little to recommend it. Like all Peruvian towns, it is centered around a Plaza de Armas, or Plaza Mayor, which you can see here -- looking towards the cathedral, with Ko in the foreground.

We visited the "Museo del Oro" in Lima, which has an extensive, if poorly labeled and organized, collection of pre-Columbian artifacts. On our way back, we also visited the "Museo de la Nacion", which has an excellent presentation on pre-Incan cultures.

 

Islas Ballestas. We drove from Lima southwards to the direction of Paracas, from which we took a boat to the famous Islas Ballestas. On the way there, you can see the amazing "Candelabra", a 150m-high image carved into the side of a sand dune, and preserved for hundreds of years by a thin coating of salt laid over it by the ocean mist. No one knows why the candelabra was created, nor by whom.

The Islas Ballestas present a striking image.

These islands are famous for their wildlife -- birds, penguins, and sea lions. The colonies of sea lions are particularly impressive, thousands or tens of thousands of these animals spread out over dozens of nesting areas. However, I can't really agree with scores of tourist boats (including the one we were on) visiting these islands daily and harrassing the animals.

But why are we fascinated by such ostentatious displays of biological diversity? Especially when we know that the world contains, for all practical purposes, what amounts to an infinite number of species?

So why is it that we should be so preoccupied by this quite pedestrian process of development of various species? Millions have arisen in the past and more millions will arise again in the future. There are several hundred species of bears in the world -- how amazing. Let's read books about them and go to museums about them and watch specials on Discovery Channel about them. There are thousands of different types of jellyfish. Great, let's fill a museum with all of them. There are more different kinds of plants than we can shake a stick at. Let's spend hundreds or thousand of man-years studying and documenting them all!

A deocentric view of this process would note that God is simply having fun -- seeing how many different biological thingies his kaleidoscope of life can create. And further multiplying his fun by watching how seriously us humans take his play.