I remember when Gutierrez’s book came in the mail last year. The picture on the front of that book is a Latin American man carrying a heavy-looking cloth sack. Oh fuck, I thought. The guys I left behind. The guys I did not help. The guys whose bodies kept me warm in the chilly Andean night, on Easter night, in 2000.
It all started at the end of a stay in Chile. I’d planned a week of holiday before going home in order to explore the country a bit. The South was not an option at that time of the year, so I went North. There in the Chilean desert, most of the backpackers were planning to cross into Peru. I was a bit scared of Peru, as it’s supposed to be less safe than Chile, but then I did not want to spend my whole “touristy” week in a desert, so the next morning I crossed into Peru too. I had a look at Arequipa, but then Machu Picchu was only a few hundred kilometres away. It would have been be stupid not to see it.
So I got there and booked a shortened “Inca Trail”. The whole thing lasts four days but I did not have four days, so I did the shortened two-days one. It was all included, food and accommodation were provided, and there was guide with us. He was pleased that I spoke Spanish, and so we spent most of the walk chattering away.
It all started at the end of a stay in Chile. I’d planned a week of holiday before going home in order to explore the country a bit. The South was not an option at that time of the year, so I went North. There in the Chilean desert, most of the backpackers were planning to cross into Peru. I was a bit scared of Peru, as it’s supposed to be less safe than Chile, but then I did not want to spend my whole “touristy” week in a desert, so the next morning I crossed into Peru too. I had a look at Arequipa, but then Machu Picchu was only a few hundred kilometres away. It would have been be stupid not to see it.
So I got there and booked a shortened “Inca Trail”. The whole thing lasts four days but I did not have four days, so I did the shortened two-days one. It was all included, food and accommodation were provided, and there was guide with us. He was pleased that I spoke Spanish, and so we spent most of the walk chattering away.
The most disturbing sight on the Inca Trail is the sight of the people who carry the stuff (tents, heavy teapots and the like) because they really carry them in potato sacks, and it looks crazy heavy. Right next to them you see the overweight Americans who carry nothing but their camera.
I asked about the carriers. They earned about one dollar per day. They had to take this job because there was no safety net. Well, but those tourists pay a lot, how come these guys don’t get more, and get better backpacks and lightweight equipment. What about unions?
“If it is even suspected that you are friendly with a union you lose your job. Word goes around and you’ll never work again. It happened to me. I was without a job for six months, without income. I had to grovel to be employed again, I got back in because I’m a good tour guide, but I keep quiet now”.
Now, what if someone was to set up shop in Cuzco, and you know, be a little more “fair-trade” about it all? I mean, it can’t cost that much to set up a tour-guide agency. Beyond renting the shop the initial investment is almost zero. And I’m sure the people who take these tours would be happier to know that the carriers get a better deal.
“You mean you want to set up shop? You’d just get shot. You have no feel for the unwritten rules, there are interests to be protected, and you’re not related to anyone. It’s dangerous shit”.
So how’s it gonna change?
“I don’t know, but I’m not rocking the boat. Well, that’s what I say. In reality I’m still in touch with the Sandinista, or rather I wish I were”
Where are the guys staying overnight?
“We’ve got a separate camp, it’s quite friendly”
Do you think I could stay with you?
“We’ll ask the others”
I made up the lame-assed excuse that I’d spent all day talking to the guide, and had no inclination to sleep with the northern tourists. Mostly, it did not want to sleep in a tent if they didn’t.
“Woa, you’re crazy, you’re going to get ill, it gets really cold, you go sleep in a tent and a sleeping bag. You go join the others, they’ve got a party planned. It’s quite nice.”
I ended up staying; they gave me some of their food. We did not talk for very long, as they were pretty knackered. They made me sleep in the middle. For a while I thought that I was in deep shit, sleeping so close to so many men, their bodies touching mine.
“We understand. But that’s how we sleep. It gets cold, we’ve got no cover. Go sleep further if you want, but if you change your mind later it’s okay too”.
And boy did I freeze, I shivered in my expensive mountain jacket, so I ended up coming closer to the bundle of human bodies. I didn’t sleep much. I watched the stars. I remembered that it was Easter night. The next day I felt pretty rough and nearly died falling off the Huayna Picchu.
And that was it. I fantasised for a bit about how people like me and my buddies could change the situation of the carriers, but there was no way out. Especially not for naïve foreigners who want to “fix it” but are not prepared to live in a country for years before attempting anything. I wish I’d done one thing differently. I wish I’d emptied my bank account –which was pretty depleted at that point of my trip- and given the money to the carriers.
Sometimes, when I can think of nothing else, I think like Paul Lafargue: remove the need for work. If people did not have to take these crap jobs they wouldn’t. The question now is how do we remove the need for those crap jobs?
So now, I’ve got a book cover and a pretty story. I want to say that I feel unspeakable shame but I’m tired of this useless white guilt. For what it’s worth, their bodies once kept me warm. That's not a lot of communion. And that's all I had.
I asked about the carriers. They earned about one dollar per day. They had to take this job because there was no safety net. Well, but those tourists pay a lot, how come these guys don’t get more, and get better backpacks and lightweight equipment. What about unions?
“If it is even suspected that you are friendly with a union you lose your job. Word goes around and you’ll never work again. It happened to me. I was without a job for six months, without income. I had to grovel to be employed again, I got back in because I’m a good tour guide, but I keep quiet now”.
Now, what if someone was to set up shop in Cuzco, and you know, be a little more “fair-trade” about it all? I mean, it can’t cost that much to set up a tour-guide agency. Beyond renting the shop the initial investment is almost zero. And I’m sure the people who take these tours would be happier to know that the carriers get a better deal.
“You mean you want to set up shop? You’d just get shot. You have no feel for the unwritten rules, there are interests to be protected, and you’re not related to anyone. It’s dangerous shit”.
So how’s it gonna change?
“I don’t know, but I’m not rocking the boat. Well, that’s what I say. In reality I’m still in touch with the Sandinista, or rather I wish I were”
Where are the guys staying overnight?
“We’ve got a separate camp, it’s quite friendly”
Do you think I could stay with you?
“We’ll ask the others”
I made up the lame-assed excuse that I’d spent all day talking to the guide, and had no inclination to sleep with the northern tourists. Mostly, it did not want to sleep in a tent if they didn’t.
“Woa, you’re crazy, you’re going to get ill, it gets really cold, you go sleep in a tent and a sleeping bag. You go join the others, they’ve got a party planned. It’s quite nice.”
I ended up staying; they gave me some of their food. We did not talk for very long, as they were pretty knackered. They made me sleep in the middle. For a while I thought that I was in deep shit, sleeping so close to so many men, their bodies touching mine.
“We understand. But that’s how we sleep. It gets cold, we’ve got no cover. Go sleep further if you want, but if you change your mind later it’s okay too”.
And boy did I freeze, I shivered in my expensive mountain jacket, so I ended up coming closer to the bundle of human bodies. I didn’t sleep much. I watched the stars. I remembered that it was Easter night. The next day I felt pretty rough and nearly died falling off the Huayna Picchu.
And that was it. I fantasised for a bit about how people like me and my buddies could change the situation of the carriers, but there was no way out. Especially not for naïve foreigners who want to “fix it” but are not prepared to live in a country for years before attempting anything. I wish I’d done one thing differently. I wish I’d emptied my bank account –which was pretty depleted at that point of my trip- and given the money to the carriers.
Sometimes, when I can think of nothing else, I think like Paul Lafargue: remove the need for work. If people did not have to take these crap jobs they wouldn’t. The question now is how do we remove the need for those crap jobs?
So now, I’ve got a book cover and a pretty story. I want to say that I feel unspeakable shame but I’m tired of this useless white guilt. For what it’s worth, their bodies once kept me warm. That's not a lot of communion. And that's all I had.
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