Begging for fish bones

High on the list of things I never envisioned myself doing is going door to door to restaurants, begging for fish bones. Yet, this is how I spent most of my afternoon and evening yesterday. But first, let me catch you up a bit.

Yesterday was a good day for me in Puno. I went for a walk by the harbor and along the promenade there, and took a water sample at the far end of the boardwalk. I had lunch at Govinda's (a Hare Krishna chain of vegetarian restaurants in Peru - this amuses the heck out of me, and the food is cheap and a no-brainer for me to eat). Then I toured a local museum full of mostly unprovenienced archaeological artifacts from all around Peru. And finally, after all of that, I met up with my friends Abby and Craig, who are working on an archaeology project nearby. We had a good time catching up (although Craig's been hit with some nasty bug - feel better Craig!), and then they took off and I went off to get another water sample, at a cleaner site north of the city.

But I digress. I was talking about begging for fish bones.

Once I was done with all of the above, I realized that if I am to prove that Tiwanaku colonists ate fish from Lake Titicaca, I am going to have to have samples of fish bones for comparison. So, I began my search.

The problem is, everyone is crazy for trout and trout is an introduced species (not helpful for my research). The other fish that all the restaurants claim to serve is pejerrey (kingfish). However, it seemed that nobody actually had kingfish. Also, most everyone had already cleaned their fish and disposed of the bones by 5:00. Surprisingly, nobody looked at me as though I was stark, raving mad. I talked to probably 20 restaurants and scored one trout skeleton. I went to the market, but all they had was trout.

I eventually gave up and stopped for dinner, but the place that I chose just didn't have anything that appealed so I left.

I decided instead to go back to the place where I'd met Abby and Craig earlier, which turned out to be a brilliant stroke of luck. The waitress was a fabulous woman from Minnesota who not only served me a wonderful meal, but also listened to my crazy last bid for fish bones politely and set out to help. She said that restaurant didn't have any, but she'd talk to the folks in the kitchen, because they likely had connections with other restaurants and perhaps they'd know who could help me. So, she took off and I ate wonderful food, and then she returned and said that there was a man named Señor Miguel who owned a cevicheria (fish restaurant) who would meet me at 8am the next morning and give me what I needed. Eureka! It was a miracle.

So, this was my morning... My bus for Moquegua was scheduled to leave at 9:30am. Keep this in mind....
6:30 - I got up, packed, and had breakfast at the hotel.
7:50 - I arrived at the cevicheria (it was just two blocks from my hotel).
8:00 - To be polite, I waited until 8:00 to knock. No answer. The outer door was open, and there was a courtyard inside, so I went in and knocked on the interior door. No answer.
8:05 - I asked the girl at the store next door about Señor Miguel, she said he should be there.
8:10 - A young woman comes down the street and enters the door I've been knocking on. I tell her my situation, and she says that Señor Miguel probably won't arrive until 9, but then she says he may be sooner - I should wait.
8:30 - I knock again to get her attention, she says I should wait.
8:40 - Señor Miguel arrives! He tells me that I don't want the type of fish I think I want. He turns out to be a brilliant source of information about local fish, and tells me we have to go to the market to get the right species to represent native lake fish in Titicaca. We hop in a cab.
8:45 - Señor Miguel whisks me through the market, pointing out exactly what I should use for my samples and helping me with everything.
9:00 - We arrive back at the cevicheria. Señor Miguel says there's no time to clean the fish (by the way, these fish are so fresh some are still alive and wiggling in my bags).
9:10 - I'm checked out of my hotel. The fish (still wiggling) are double zip-locked in my luggage, and I hop in a cab for the bus station.
9:20 - I arrive at the bus station.
9:25 - I've purchased my departure tax stamp and arrive with my luggage in the waiting area for my bus with 5 minutes to spare.

The bus isn't there. The bus is late. The bus arrives at 10:00am.

10:10 - I'm on my way to Moquegua!

T'was a crazy day! I love this story because it is so quitessentially Peru. People will go out of their way to help you, for no reason other than to be helpful. But time is kind of a fluid thing. Nothing happens early. You can see why I fit in here so well....

Hope all is well at home!

Karen

p.s. I have to go back to my room and clean some fish now. Another thing I don't generally picture myself doing. Ah the glamour of bioarchaeology!