encounters with people, encounters with large rocks

Machu PIcchu

This last weekend, for the Fiestas Patrias (like long Fourth of July for Perú), I went to Cusco, the ancient Incan capital over 3000 meters up in the Andes, launch point for lots of cool Incan ruins like the very famous Machu Picchu. When I first got to Cusco, I was very unimpressed and underwhelmed with everything, because it was frigid (apparently mountains are like that) and very high up in the air (apparently mountains are like that too) so I was too busy popping sorroche pills, trying to keep my food down and my blood unfrozen to ponder the wondrous gargantuan rocks of Sacsaywaman or admire the sprawling city of red terra cotta roofs sprinkled like sand into an Andean valley, which is really a shame, but luckily, due to modern technology, I can now readmire everything I saw on the first day vicariously through the photos while mareada.

Cusco

Sacsaywaman - yes, these rocks are very large

Also, luckily, Machu Picchu is about 1000 meters lower than Cusco, so the next day when we went to see this iconic site, I was more than fine. Obviously, Machu Picchu was very cool, however, the train there and back took so long that though it was technically a “full day tour” we only spent about 3 hours in the actual site itself. Furthermore, because it was the Fiestas Patrias, the place was swarming with tourists, and it was kind of raining on and off, so the ruins were speckled with many colorful ponchos. On the other hand, because it was raining, it was also more cloudy than usual, which was really cool, because the clouds were literally in the mountains. I remember looking at it and thinking that I could imagine why the Incas believed that the mountains were gods, and that being so high up made them closer to the gods.

Speaking of gods, we also met on the train to Machu Picchu a Mormon family, two college-age sons and a very old and rather adorable father. On the way out, we ran into the father standing alone, leaning against a rock or something, and I say hi to him, asking him how he is and where his sons are. He was resting, since he was very old, he said to me. Then we walked slowly together towards the exit, chatting about normal things that old people chat about to younger people, and he tells me that Machu Picchu is one of the most amazing places he’s ever seen, and he’s been to lots of places all right. I turn around and it is truly spectacular. The mist and clouds have literally moved into the city, and it feels like we are in the Heavenly Kingdom in a Monkey King movie or something (except Inca-ized, of course), and I make the comment about how I could believe that the Incas thought that the gods lived up here. Then, suddenly, he begins to tell me something, starting with the words, “I don’t know if you’re a Christian, but…” At around this point I notice that he is carrying, and has been carrying the whole time, only two things: two books, one of which is the Book of Mormon. It is all I can do to keep the smile on my face only a smile, and not laugh, because the entire scene was just so funny. Please don’t get me wrong–I’m not making fun of Mormons, or this sweet old man who was very kind and very adorable–but the situation, everything as a whole, just struck me as hilarious. Here I was, at Machu Picchu after 1.5 months of interacting with basically only Peruvian nonpeers, listening to this cute old man with a very American drawl who was clutching the Book of Mormon with two hands climbing the rocky paths of the Incan Ruin tell me about how Montezuma (an Aztec, situated in Mexico) was defeated by Cortez because he thought Cortez was a god, and how that proves that Jesus came to Machu Picchu because Montezuma probably mistook Cortez for Jesus because they’re both white and bearded.

"excuse me, could you let me pass? kthanx" - llama

So that was Machu Picchu–a little underwhelming (except for the llamas), like post-modern love, mostly because its so hyped up and there are so many pictures of it that when you get there, all you can really do is take that picture that you see everywhere on your own camera. The next day we walked around Cusco, I bought a lot of souvenir things and became master of bargaining, we saw the twelve-sided rock which was a twelve sided rock, and the Incan walls and cobblestoned streets and stuff around the city were pretty cool. Happily for my wallet and unhappily for my tummy, there was a 5 sol menu restaurant really close to our hotel, which means that we could get two course meals there for about $1.67, so we ate there every day, and things were so greasy and fried and it was gross, except for the day that we ate at a 3.5 sol menu (about $1.16) in this really dirty place which was all fat too, but the last night we splurged for nice pizza in a clean establishment for 12 soles each–a whopping 4 USD–which I am happy to say I helped bargain down from 15 soles each.

Inca Walls in Cusco

The last day we went into the Sacred Valley, planning to hit all the sites on the boleto turistico that we hadn’t yet, but we ended up only being able to see Pisac, because apparently there’s a lot of walking and climbing there, and we walked and climbed over the ruins in the mountains and it was actually super cool, because it was warm (I was in a Tshirt!) and very beautiful and whatnot, but also since there was a lot of climbing, there was less time for photos, which is why this next photo is of Machu Picchu and not Pisac. Anyways, next time I go, I would like to bring a picnic.

But the really memorable part of this trip was the bus ride back from Pisac to Cusco. We took this micro-like thingy, except it was a little nicer, but it stopped on the way and picked up people and stuff, and we were crammed in, standing and rubbing butts, trying to hang on while this bus took hairpin curve after hairpin curve (Andes are mountainous, and mountainous roads are curvy). So the bus slows down to pick up some more passengers (which I didn’t understand, because I was already rubbing butts with more people than I wanted to be, and as its slowing down we see this man peeing against a wall, which is gross, but whatever. Then this man suddenly starts to walk, while continuing to pee, which I have never ever seen anyone do before. Also, there were lots of people nearby, and he was walking next to and towards people who were walking in the opposite direction. So I was a little mortified at what I just saw, this man walking with a spurt of yellow liquid leading in front of him, and then he tucks his thingy back into his pants and proceeds to GET ON THE BUS, where, I remind you, people were rubbing butts. Gross gross gross.

Fiestas Patrias

lots of Peruvian flags

In the past few weeks, Perú has been blooming with red and white on every street and lamppost, as all the households and businesses put up at least one Peruvian flag in preparation for the Fiestas Patrias, which happened the 28th of July, the day San Martín helped Perú win independence from Spain. In the hospital schools where I work, we’ve been doing patriotic learning activities like Peru-themed painting and composition contests and celebrations of the costa, sierra, and selva. On the radio, patriotic songs come on once in a while.

Other than being a nice educational tool, the Fiestas are an excuse for lots of partying (true to the most common English translation of the word ‘fiesta’) and also lots of family vacations. In Cusco, where I was, cannons and fireworks went off during the day, as well as large music and dance celebrations in the central squares, while nightclubs were jammed packed at night with locals, vacationing Peruvians, and gringos like myself visiting Machu Picchu. A little after midnight the night before/of the 28th in a bar/disco on the Plaza de Armas, the cumbia/reggaeton suddenly ended, and a very traditional-sounding song came on. I soon realized, as the Peruvians around me burst into loud, exuberant, over-dramatized and emotional drunk singing, that this was the Peruvian national anthem. As the Peruvians waved their beers and swayed with their arms around their friends, flags waved on the balcony and red and white balloons bounced around the revelers. A few minutes later, some peruanos asked my friend and I to dance, which was fine, except that soon after Single Ladies came on, and I couldn’t do all the fun choreography because they had not seen the music video, and because Beyoncé is not very Peruvian.

VIVA EL PERU GLORIOSO

CUSCO

Anyways, the point of this post is that I’m kind of a sucker for cheesy patriotic things, and very much influenced and entranced  by the magical phenomenon of collective effervescence.