The Blue Goose

 originally written March 14, 2019

    One of the most amazing places our family was lucky enough to experience was a blue apparition in the Atacama Desert.  It was a collection of living spaces, tents, and metal structures at the crossroads of the Pan American Highway and the turn off to Toquepala which began climb of 8500 feet into the Andes mountains.  It was also a place for the police to stop vehicles to check for something, even if they knew you had nothing.  They might be looking for illegal immigrants, drug activity or maybe they just wanted to harass someone.  The Atacama desert is the second driest desert in the world and the Blue Goose was the name of this hot spot on the ribbon of road cutting through a landscape with the Andes mountains towering over the land to the east and vast stretches of sandy desert running north and south along the coast of the Pacific Ocean to the west.  Vegetation was sparse to non-existent.

    LaWanda and I were working as teachers in Toquepala, the site of a large open pit copper mine 8000 feet above the  blue goose in the Andes Mountain. We lived in pleasant house with our two preschool aged children, close to the school where we worked.  The Blue goose was the first sign of civilization after leaving the mine after driving west for two hours.  The descent was steep causing the road from the mine to twist and turn as the flat plains came closer and closer.  There were spectacular views of the mountains and deserts interspersed with dangerous curves that drew your attention back to the road.  Arriving at the Blue Goose one would turn right and head straight up the coast to New Mexico, if you had a lot of time.  If you turned left the road cut across the Moqueqa Valley and into Tacna the major city of southern Peru, with 5000 inhabitants.  Tacna was a short drive from Arica, Chile, a coastal city where there had been no recorded rainfall and a statue of Bernardo O’Higgins represented the proud heritage of Chileans.

    Our family was frequently stopped at the Blue goose when returning from Tacna.  The police were neither friendly nor hostile, but there was always a sense that they meant business and that being a foreigner was a liability.  My favorite place to stop within the boundaries of the blue goose was a small gas station at the southern end of the habitations.  It was obviously as gas station because there were two gas pumps out front, a covered area over the pumps and a small rectangular building.  When you pulled up to the pumps all you could see was desert to the south, west and east.  The most interesting part of the gas station was that after pulling up to a pump you had to go into the building and the attendant would pour about 5 gallons of gasoline into container from a metal barrel in the office.  Then you would carry the gas out to your car and put it into the the gas tank.

    During one trip I was pouring gas into the tank of my Brazilian Volkswagon, while LaWanda and the kids dozed in the heat.  I was staring at the void that was the desert when, through the shimmering heat waves, I spotted an emerging man with a donkey.  My thought, was de donde vine?  There was no civilization in that direction.  The figure kept walking toward the highway and eventually I could discern that it was an elderly man with a long goatee wearing a wide brimmed hat with a serape thrown over his shoulder.  He looked like a Mexican Paisano not a Peruvian Indian.  He kept walking, his donkey following heading right for the highway.  They crossed the road and keep walking into the desert and I watched him until he could no longer be seen.  

    I have often thought of that man and his donkey and wondered where he came from and where he was going.  As far as I knew the Blue Goose was right smack dab in the middle of nowhere.  He probably knew a lot more about what was out there than I will ever know or perhaps can imagine.  Although I can try. 

Peru was a wonderfully strange place!