We were told the night before that our fourth day in Ica would be a free day up until about 4pm. Many of us were disappointed because we were hoping to see the Nazca lines but that particular event was rescheduled for Saturday. Anyway, I had every intention of spending the day resting and perhaps shopping around the plaza by myself but after having lunch with Tessa and Tara, I was persuaded to use the free day to revisit the sand dunes and go buggy boarding again. After weighing all my options (either stay at the hotel and struggle to gain internet access or relive what I’d deem the best day of my life) I figured 40 soles, or close to about 10 US dollars, was totally worth the transportation to and from buggying as well as the rides through the dunes and sand boarding itself. After all, when in my life would I be able to do this again? Our Professor, Monica, arranged for the vans to pick us up at the hotel and while waiting in the lobby I convinced Karlayne to come along with us. We left the hotel around 3:30, prepared to miss the scavenger hunt assignment that was set up for us at 4pm. Our make-up project included interviewing whatever locals we came into contact with about the culture and importance of Ica.
The experience of sand boarding the second time around was not the same yet it was still very fun and surreal. Without our huge group of 30 students we had less vigor and excitement but we were still able to enjoy the sand dunes and all it had to offer. We ended up joining a car of other tourists that included people from the UK, Argentina, and Canada. I recognized our driver, Jesus, although the first time around I had the crazy driver, Alfredo. I did, however, see Alfredo as his group accompanied us out and to my surprise he remembered my name. Anyway, the experience was pretty much similar to the first with my heart pounding just as heart before taking off down the hill. This time around we were able to get better pictures and videos of us sliding down and the sunset shots.
After the car let off we interviewed both Alfredo and Jesus. They told us that Ica was representative of Ketchua and that the economic systems of Ica revolved around agriculture, mining, and fishing. We learned that they had visited every tourist spot and that Alfredo believed in the brujas de Cachiche (witches) whereas Jesus thought it was just a concept. We recorded the interviews on camera which made the locals excited to become part of an American project. It was almost flattering to them to be asked questions and for tourists to be so interested in their culture and what they had to say. Before we hopped into the van that would take us back to our hotel, we interviewed one moral local whose name escapes me at the moment. He pretty much had the same to say about Ica and its culture but seemed to stress the five provinces of the Ica region. He emphasized the culture and significance of Chincha, Ica, Nazca, Palpa, and Pisco. It was fascinating to see how much pride this particular man had when speaking of his culture and people.
We got back to the hotel, again even more exhausted and hungry than the night before, and grabbed dinner at Kachito. We probably experienced what would be the worst service experience in Ica when we asked our waitress for ice and change for our soles but got nothing but eye rolls and a flat out “No.” Everyone seemed to be dissatisfied with their meals whereas I was, at best, content. The chicken in Ica seemed to be very popular although I would say the chicken in my meal was try and bland. We came back to the hotel to find out that Yanni had slipped on the hotel stairs and was taken to the hospital. Fortunately he was okay but he needed stitches and bled heavily. He was still determined, however, to party at the local discotecas in Ica and that is exactly what he ended up doing. Since I was exhausted I decided to stay in again and get some rest. I spent a good portion of the night hanging out with those who chose to stay in as well such as Cara, Andres, and Tomas.
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