The cañon had many crevasses, clefts, and gashes, but none of these was wide enough to turn us aside, and after a time we reached the willow marshes and forded the Vitor River. Then a very steep climb to the hill, which was crowned by the church, and we were in Quilca. The caleta, or cove, which constitutes the port, lies below, and it took a half-hour’s winding ride to get there.
The vessel for Callao which we had hoped would be waiting had put in and out four hours earlier. When another ship would be along, no one could tell. The last passengers who had come overland had waited for two weeks. Every day we climbed the outjutting cliff and scanned the sea, watched some vessels go by without heeding our signals, and said harsh things of them. Then we dug into some of the aboriginal huts. The work was hot and not interesting enough to be pursued. The villagers had some relics, but the most valuable ones and those which indicated the highest lost civilization had come from the interior. Mica deposits abounded in the vicinity, and a passing American miner had posted up the legal denunciation, or claim, to them. The copper and gold mines were a hundred miles back somewhere in the red volcanic hills.
The people were a kindly folk, and a vacant house was put at our disposal. They loaned us chairs, and our own sleeping-bags and blankets were all the rest of the furniture that was necessary. But the fleas! Neither Texas, Havana, nor San Francisco ever bred fleas equal to those in the sands of Quilca. Fortunately for us a big shipment of cattle was coming down from the interior, and the owner had more influence with the steamship company than we had. I had spent a small fortune in cables. Mr. Meier, our consul at Mollendo, had reënforced me, and our minister in Lima was enlisting the full influence of the government. But all this would have been without avail if the steamship managers had not decided to put in and take the cattle away and the waiting passengers with them. Consequently instead of a fortnight our stay was less than a week.
But back to Arequipa. It is a blending of old and new towns, a grouping of sandstone houses and eucalyptus or camphor trees surrounded by greenish-white hills. The streets are fairly wide, and have open drainage, which is facilitated by the slope. They are not kept too clean. Blue is the dominant color of the dwellings and other buildings. Ambitious and somewhat gaudy decoration is attempted in the way of painting the outside walls. The subject and the execution generally are more novel than artistic. The place has a peculiarity that I did not note elsewhere. The tiendas, or stores, the dwellings of the poorer classes and of some of the fairly well-to-do, are tent-shaped with whitewashed mortar roofs. These give to the section of the town lying along the river the look of a permanent camp. The public institutions, the Carmen Monastery, the hospitals, are shut in by mortar walls. The thermal springs of iron and sulphur are a few miles distant at Yura.
View of Arequipa and the Crater of El Misti
Arequipa is a city of churches. One side of the plaza of San Francisco is taken up by the Cathedral. It is a new structure, rebuilt after the earthquake of 1868, and was consecrated in 1893. It is roomy, but not notable as an example of ecclesiastical architecture. There are twin spires, and an arch at either end, the front being of smooth white lava rock. The Cathedral is not meant to be an earthquake tempter; that is the reason for its simplicity of construction. Other churches are much more mediæval and therefore much more picturesque. One of them has been partly wrecked by a seismic disturbance.
Arequipa has been noted for its religious intolerance. This has entered into political affairs and has made it the centre of reactionary influences. Sometimes this reactionism has been the basis of revolutions or attempted revolutions against governments of liberal tendencies. But this spirit is slowly yielding. Ex-President Edward Romaña, who, notwithstanding his education at a Jesuit college in England, antagonized the reactionary clerical influence, has an estate near Arequipa and makes it his home. His administration was of immense good in carrying Peru through a critical period.
Despite its inheritance of Spanish blood and customs, Arequipa still illustrates the predominance of the Indian type. Natives with their burros and llamas fill the streets, gossiping and sometimes working. The official and higher classes show their Spanish origin. In the morning the women on their way to church with their black shawls and mantillas wrapped around them are followed by the servants carrying chairs, but in the afternoon and evening the sombre mantillas are changed for Paris hats and smart gowns, and the brightness of Andalusia sparkles in those piercing black eyes.
Like Lima, Arequipa was founded by Pizarro; and, like Lima, it has its earthquake history. The record runs quite evenly.