Cusco

We are in the middle of a 2 week visit by our niece and nephew from Oregon. They were here for less than 12hrs before we packed them up and we all headed off for Cusco and, ultimately, Machu Picchu. Dominick, Nicole, Carter, Jennifer, Mariza and myself. The flight to Cusco cruises over some snowy crags of the Andes before banking sharply around a mountain and landing in the town at 11,200ft. I had been drinking coca tea all week, plus we had all superstitiously taken the anti-altitude pills, and in the end no one suffered overly much from the altitude. Cusco was the center of the Inca empire and, later, the symbolic victory of the conquistadores. Many, many of the narrow streets are lined by ancient stone foundations with lots of colonial structures built right on top of the Inca masonry. For palaces and temples, the Inca masons were so precise that no mortar was necessary.

Daybreak down the street from our hotel.

Our hotel was on one of these small streets, a typical colonial building set around a courtyard, with a breakfast room looking out over the terracotta roofs, many with the ceramic bulls that Cusqueños place up there to protect their homes. We immediately set out for a walk, succumbing happily to the first poncho saleswoman we encountered. Eventually, we found a place for dinner where I enjoyed the very local trout. Cusco is the hub through which travelers get to Machu Picchu and we had to leave the hotel for our train at 7:30am. Even so, we were all up before daybreak to go see a local market. The market was a failure (closed), but being up at daybreak was fantastic. We walked the streets, some of us stumbling upon one of the most famous Inca foundation walls, a mortarless wall that includes the famous "12-angle stone". We still had time for breakfast and the half-hour taxi ride out to the train station.

36hrs later we returned from Machu Picchu (see the next post for that trip), and checked into a different hotel. This hotel was bigger, snootier, but very nice; it was clearly once a very important building and was right next door to what was once the Temple of the Sun, the most important of Inca temples. Jen and I were celebrating our anniversary (16!) in a happily NONfancy way. We picked up some street sandwiches (pork, onion, avocado) and a couple of beers and ate in the corner of the room as Carter slept. There was plenty of time on Sunday prior to our return to Lima, so we walked the city again. Our first stop was the Temple of the Sun, but it was closed. There was a very cute little girl, dressed in native dress and hugging her lamb. We were taking photos and talking to her when another tourist came up and accused us of harassing her, a poor native girl alone in town. It was a strange moment and it was only later that I put together the proper imaginary response: the girl was put there by her family, his belief that little girls in Cusco just wander around in full fancy dress with their lambs was naive, and after 500 years of oppression and corruption and poverty, it just didn't seem so bad to give the girl a dollar for the privilege of appreciating the native dress. What, he would prefer that she grub for potatoes instead of milking some of the huge flow of tourist money running through Cusco?
 

Dominick at the market

Anyhow...we headed off and this time found the Cusco market open. We had fun exploring the exotic offerings: pigs heads, trout roe, fabulous fruit smoothies, aromatic herbs and many things that remain a mystery. Eventually we found our way around a couple of other plazas and the central plaza. It's a beautiful town, and the sun was out, so it is easy to forget the bloodletting that permeates Cusco's history: battles and executions and later even more executions. Many people feel a spiritual power in the area, but I'm not convinced that it is anything more than this powerful resonance of a history both glorious and terrible. But forget all that, it was a lovely day and we found a cool, weird little lunch place. It supports a charity for children, near as I can tell it is a charity that runs community events for kids with clowns and facepaint, etc. They served me a very nice quinoa stew and our vegetarian niece Nicole was able to enjoy a papaya/banana pizza.

Carter's "vintage" poncho.

Mariza and the 12-angle Stone

Santa Eulalia

Weekend before last, after a few hours at the Hogar with the kids, we continued up the Rimac River valley for another 45-minutes, heading for an overnight getaway with our friends Julio, Maureen and Julito. Our destination was up a tributary where both the little village and the river are called Santa Eulalia. Many Limeños have rustic getaway homes here and the area is known for horses. We showed up, diverted around the little plaza because they were setting up for their annual founder's day fiesta, and made our way to a little walled retreat with 4 bungalows and a small, unheated pool.

We shared a bungalow, spending our time barbecuing and drinking beer while the boys ran around. The amenities were minimal, but we had come with coolers well stocked and our bocce set, so we had a lovely time. It was the warm weather for which we were totally unprepared...Santa Eulalia is so far inland that the Lima marine layer cannot reach it. One big topic was Julio's recently completed 2nd short film, completed just in time to make the 14-film cut for the Lima film festival (out of 300 entries). As I type now a week and a half later, the films have all been shown and we are crossing our fingers. In the meantime, I helped him with a poster design.

At one point on Saturday, the boys ran ahead of us to throw rocks in the little river (big stream?) as locals emerged from dusty roads, heading for the village celebration. At one point, back at the bungalow, the caretaker's small dog "Colita" ran out and barked at 4 passing horsemen, to their great amusement. They were dressed up and heading for the fiesta. Peru's national dance is called the marinera, in which a barefoot lady in a gown twirls a white handkerchief while the gentleman steps around her twirling his hat. Though I did not know this at the time, it turns out there is a version of this dance in which the men are on horseback, dressed as these 4 horsemen were.

Sunday we had a slow morning, barbecuing for lunch and then packing up. I was harboring the idea we might stop on the way out to see some of the fiesta, but bad luck struck in the form a gut-wrenching attack on Jen's stomach and it was all we could do to make the drive home without a messy mishap.

June, July and Fiestas Patrias, 2013

Here we are, one year into our Peru experience, and I realize it has been 6 weeks since I wrote very much here. July 28 was Peruvian independence day (Fiestas Patrias), but the whole month is patriotic. Lima flies the colors, red and white, for the whole month...and not just because every house is legally obligated to fly a flag at the end of the month.

Schoolgirls

Cajamarca
At the end of June, Jennifer went for a week to visit some Peace Corps sites in the Cajamarca region. The main town, Cajamarca, is up north at 9,000ft and most famous for being the site where Pizarro ambushed the emperor Atahualpa and set in motion the overthrow of the Inca. Jen just passed through, however, staying for several nights in the smaller towns. The small town of Chota was in the thick of their patron saint's celebration; consequently, Jen got very little sleep as the town band played all night in the plaza and then at daybreak started a parade through the streets. She missed the actual fireworks show, but saw the multi-story tower of sticks erected in preparation for the giant, flaming finale.

Street food (note the woman skinning the guinea pig)

Regional coordinator & volunteer speaking with
a mom.

Jennifer was greatly impacted by the primitive way many people there live. There is plenty of crushing poverty in Lima, but this is another level altogether. Up there, it is a fortunate home that has plenty of guinea pigs (living inside with the family, running free on the dirt floor). Problems start young, babies pitch into malnutrition as soon as they ween because the diet is almost all starch. Children and women develop emphysema because cooking is indoors and unventilated. Even that most picturesque image, the Peruvian mother toting her toddler in the colorful wrap on her back, indicates a damaging lack of stimulation for the kid. Peace Corps tries make a difference early. Offering government stoves (ventilated!) in exchange for visits to the community center where volunteers will give classes or simply play with the kids with bottle caps or something. The area is beautiful; the bucolic fields, the mountains, the community. But it is Poor.








The Hogar out in Chaclacayo

Jen and Carla at the ice cream shop.

Eloy is getting tired of just sitting around all day.

We have now been visiting the Hogar long enough to be regulars. Many people I know recently contributed money for formula (or baby bjorns) and it felt great to be the one able to march in their with a box of goods. Thanks to all of you, it was more than I could carry back from the states and I am ordering more!

Getting to know the kids as individuals has changed the flavor of our visits. A few times, we have taken a couple of kids out on an excursion, seeing what it is like to give a kid a little individual attention. Carla and Christian came out for ice cream, lunch, video games and ice cream again. A week later, Jen took a couple kids to the movies, but the power failed 20 minutes into the film. I let Viktor Huaman (13yr old, club feet) sit on my lap and steer our car; he was so pleased, I am again reminded of how the kids, particularly the older ones, are lacking that person who will take them driving, or show them how to use a power drill, or tell them not to use that whiny voice. The town square out there has been more fun than normal, with bouncy houses and some small rides set up for the patriotic month, with cotton candy for the kids, etc. The only mishap being when Ana banged her leg and then reached down and petulantly pulled off her cast. We are noticeable, what with our Threepenny Opera of wheelchairs and burned kids; townspeople will come up and chit-chat, the carnival guy gave us discounted fares, weekenders shake my hand (Chaclacayo is a close destination for Limeños). It's not all gravy though; we are around enough to have falling outs (e.g. Bryan (9yr old, corrective leg surgeries), is mad at me because I would not let him keep Carter's graphic novel he was reading). And though we have been around enough to see many of the kids improving (Ana's foot is no longer sticking weirdly from her knee! that cleft palate has healed up nicely! Viktor, you're riding a bike!), we also see some of the new arrivals. Kiara is, for lack of a better word, feral. The new baby upstairs is so malnourished that he looks like an old man. The older of two sisters recently arrived is 9, but appears 5 and acts like 2 and has been crying for her mom for a week straight. Her crying stopped long enough for her to enjoy the carnival rides on Saturday, but then she peed her pants and started crying again at the house until the cook walked in and hollered at her (which sounds heartless but, I promise you, was not).

Paddle tennis at Muscle Beach.

Cousins at Judy and John's house.

Los Angeles
Carter and I spent a crazy, busy, wonderful week in LA. We saw plenty of family and friends, with signature experiences like Dodger Stadium, Santa Monica Pier, s'mores in the back yard, a matinee on the Promenade, and plenty more. Carter got to play with his cousins, spend some quality time with his grandparents and I got to see some good friends. Before the trip, I had assumed that I would spend the week wallowing in "how different it all is." But that was weirdly not the case. I did honk at someone like a true Limeño, and I certainly appreciated a good, old American diner breakfast and a good, old SoCal burrito meal.

Dodger Game!