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Published: February 19th 2010
CHICHA on Carnavale Day
Juanita, Juan, and Hilda imbibe the local beverage with Maureen looking on.OLYMPICS...what Olympics!
Peru is not exactly a sporting nation of note...and even lesser interest is had in winter sports; so when we mention excitedly that the Olympics are occurring in Vancouver, the typical response from Peruvians is...the what! (Could it be our Spanish?) On the other hand, however, the interest level is much much higher amongst the many students from Holland who are following their speed skating team with great enthusiasm. And so as loyal Canadians in a foreign land, we try to balance ourselves on the cultural fence and enjoy your e-mails telling us about the excitement of the games, catch what we can of the sporting events through news and sports websites, and then head out and take part in more Peruvian-style passions such as fiestas! Let the FIESTAS begin!
Actually, let's start with the likely less happy occasion of death and dealing with our earthly remains...Peruvian style. After a Power Point presentation one evening by one of our instructors (the previously mentioned suave, handsome and available Ricardo) about the cemetaries of Peru, we were intrigued, and went to personally investigate the largest of Cusco's cemetaries.
It's only about a 20 or 25 minute walk from where
we live but we were uncertain about its exact location because our map was sketchy and the streets change names every so many blocks. As we got nearer we knew we were on track because the stores lining the street began to change in nature. The restaurants and little tiendas filled with shelves of beer and chocolate and potato chips were now becoming much more distinctly funereal. Flowers and burial markers and memorial trinkets filled each of the many little shops beginning about two blocks from the cemetery. Occasionally a restaurant would pop up between the funeral vendors because mourners and family members still have to eat, you know!
Soon, across the street, a large concrete wall (maybe Berlin exported theirs!) confronted us and to the right of it was a sizable parking lot lined with flower stalls and some fruit vendors. On the wall, in huge letters was "Cementario de Almudena". Behind the parking lot stood a large cathedral with a magnificent white dome - yet one more of Cusco's 27 Catholic churches, and you guessed it, more bells.
The entry into the cemetery was a lovely ornate archway a few steps above the actual memorials so that
we could look out over the memorial "city" and see the blocks of immacualte funereal highrises - no mud here. Laid out before us were large concrete "rowhouses" containing anywhere between 6 and ten "floors" of nichos up to 25 across in which loved ones are buried. It felt a bit like entering the vault of a bank where safety deposit boxes line the walls in neat rows and columns, except these boxes all contained the entire remains of the dearly departed. Cremations are less favoured in Peruvian society but there are mini columns and nichos for cremated remains.
Each nicho, or burial box is fronted by what looks like a fireplace door with a metal rim enclosing a glass window. Looking through the glass window, a life story is suggested with miniature representations of furniture, beer or pop bottles, cars, musical instruments, and photos- anything that represents the departed person's life and what was important. Each nicho of the many thousands has its own little story. And like supermarket shelves, the mostly costly nichos are at eye level, whereas the higher one rises or the lower, the less costly. For those nichos above easy viewing level, rolling ladders
such as those seen in libraries, are available to roll up to your personal family member's nicho and climb up to the appropriate "floor" for an up-close interaction and to freshen flowers etc. A monthy rent is paid to the city ad infinitum and if you or your loved ones default, you lose your space.
We are told that in each November there is a fiesta day called "Dia de Los Muertes" (Day of the Dead) where families come to cemeteries in large numbers to visit with their passed loved ones and celebrate together. Musical groups play, dances are danced, and food is cooked (apparently it's not unusual for a plate of food to be placed inside the nicho for the deceased to enjoy as well!). Kind of a joyous picnic in the park aside from the ghoulish overtones! Way back in the 1500's, the Incas believed that their loved ones should continue in death as they had in life so going to the neighbour's for tea included bringing along a mummy or two!
CARNAVALE
We've mentioned before our Peruvian friends Juanita and Efrain and their families, who have so warmly accepted and included us in their
real Cusco life. This past Sunday while North Americans celebrated Saint Valentine's Day, Peruvians celebrated a semi-religious holiday called Carnavale with St. Valentine's Day this year overlapping. Juanita and Efrain were kind enough to invite us to share in a Carnavale day of food and festivities at their home high up on the west side of the Cusco Valley.
Sunday is Efrain's only day off work and Juanita works the overnight Saturday shift at our residence, finishing at 8 am Sunday. Regardless of their limited time off, we were invited to arrive at 11 am. For the first time, we bravely caught one of the Combi buses that the locals use. If you remember high school contests to see how many people can fit in a Volkswagon, you will understand just a little bit of what it's like to jump aboard one of these transporters. The little seven seater van was filled beyond capacity with twenty people. Larry drew the long straw and was lucky enough to sit in the front seat with the driver where there were only four people seated, for Maureen it was a teensie bit more congested. The cost was 60 centivos or about 25
cents each and was a much more affordable way of getting about versus the taxi ride that would have cost $1.50 for the two of us. The locals wondered if we were loco and on the wrong bus. We really know now what it like to be the minority and to be the subject of curious but polite stares from all ages all at once.
We arrived promptly at 11 and were greeted by brother Juan, niece Gretel, nephew Carlo and young Fernando, Efrain's 10 yr old son. Efrain zoomed in from a local soccer match around 11:45. Sister-in-law Hilda, young nephew Jhoan, wife Marguerita, and sister Juanita appeared around noon, having been out shopping for the afternoon's meal; since the family has no fridge, items like meat need to be purchased fresh from the market as needed. Modest fridges cost about one and a half month's salary and are costly to run.
During all of the comings and goings brother Juan was busy handwashing his clothes meticulously, including his insoles and shoes, outside, in a tub with cold water and soap, more cold water to rinse and a pair of strong hands to wring the laundry out. Sunday
is Juan's only day off work too ... and laundry can't wait. Even at our residence the bedding and towels are handwashed and hung to dry between down pours every Saturday.
Fernando was busy preparing for one of the day's main fun activities- GLOBOS! In English, globos are balloons, and in Cusco on Carnavale day, filling globos with water the way that Canadians would prepare snowballs for a good winter activity is, we learned, fun for everyone ( except the elderly and mother's carrying babies - who are understood to be off limits). As Fernando filled and tied globos, he and Carlos began the attack...from their vantage point about 30 m above the roadway and a number of other houses below, they could visualize all the cars, buses, trucks and pedestrians passing by. Unfortunately, from their and our perspective, we were not in the highest house on the hillside...this meant that while attacking those below, we were being sighted by those above with their load of globos, and water guns, and spray cans filled with foam...yikes! A war zone became apparent. The poor peons in the street below were obviously at the greatest disadvantage and were attacked by globos
·The Battle Site Below
The street below Efrain's house where the big water fights ensued from the above hillsides, from second storey windows on the street, and even by buckets of water from the others at street level. Soon, large open trucks filled with people began passing through with all manner of water propelling paraphernalia for attacking pedestrians...when water was not easily available, people began scooping red, muddy water from puddles and cascading it over others' heads. At one point, three bicyclists were attacked with buckets of water and in trying to avoid being soaked, one of the cyclists took a tumble onto the road...ouch! The whole city of Cusco, including our school, goes water tossing crazy and in theory, girls toss at boys and boys at girls.
The attacks would subside and then increase as time passed, and of course, up on our level, the water began to not only be jettisoned down the hill, but also at each other, and soon most of the family members were in various states of drippingness. Maureen, in her solo attempt in the battle, tried to lob a globo at a neighbour just slightly below the house, but slipped on the red mud, breaking her one and only globo and ended up sliding in the red
dirt on her backside...more practice on steep hillsides is needed by the Canadians for future years ... maybe some time with the mountain goats north of Summerland!
Eventually, lunch was set and we were invited into the house to wash up and share in the meal. The living room was bereft of furniture other than a small TV and stereo set, so we carried the dining room table into this area and brought out a collection of chairs and stools to sit on. A beautiful blue tablecloth was produced and then plates heaping with food were placed at each spot at the table. Each steaming, aromatic plate carried a huge portion of white rice (3 cups), a tomato-based stir-fry of vegetables, and large chunks of beef. A bowl of spicy green sauce called "aji" was passed and a tablespoon or so was a popular addition to the rice or meat. We each had a fork, but there was a lack of knives and because we were guests, we were offered the only two available; the others used their fingers to pick up and eat their meat. Trees are in limited supply and paper is cherished so napkins were a
square of TP, optional.
After finishing the meal- actually Larry was the only one who managed to finish the full meal - the group of us ambled off to a neighbour's down the road. It was located on the road below Efrain's house so we had to dodge the water balloons and trucks spewing water en route, but we arrived mostly dry. Entering the neighbour lady's house was like walking into the bar scene near the beginning of the first Indiana Jones movie; dark with dirt floors and a table in the corner filled with men drinking beer. We passed through the first room and entered a smaller room with a dirt floor, a low well-aged fabric ceiling, a table....and live guinea pigs scurrying about!
When our eyes adjusted to the darker light we realized there were about 20 guinea pigs ranging from baby-sized to small cat-sized scattered around the space, along with three dogs, a cat, and a roving chicken who all paid no attention whatsoever to the smaller creatures. This, we discovered was the breeding place for the local supply of "CUY" for those special occasions when only a good meal of guinea pig will do.
Paying little attention (WE actually paid a great deal of attention) to the menagerie of animals, we all took a seat around the table. The lady of the house scooped frothy pink liquid from a barrel in the corner and plunked down before each of us LARGE (1 litre plus) glasses of the local drink favourite called CHICHA. It is a corn-fermented beverage that, while not unpleasant in taste, defies flavour description, and is unlikely to make it onto our top 10 list of potent potables. Even the one fresh strawberry in each pink chicha didn't save the day. Anyway, we enjoyed visiting with the guinea pigs and chatting with the nice lady and her Mom and the neighbour - and tried not to envision the next upcoming birthday celebration with cuy!
The chicha downed, we ambled back up the street to the next event of the day, the ceremonial dance around the eucalyptus tree. On Carnavale day in Peru, cities, towns and communities perform a dance around a tall tree that is cut specifically for the celebration. The tree has numerous balloons, plastic kitchenware items, and ribbons attached to its branches and is then erected in the centre
of a large square or park. The tree in "our" dilapidated basketball court park was about 10-15 m tall and its trunk was buried deep into the ground for stability, right at centre court. Upon our arrival, we were immediately offered another good glass of chicha and a large plate brimming with food ... similar to what we had eaten an hour earlier. All of us politely accepted the offerings with a discreet look on our faces of "how can I possibly eat all of this!". Just then the daily downpour started with loud rumbling thunder and we all ran for cover. The sound system was gathered up and passed back through a window in a neighbouring apartment and played from the window for the rest of the evening. The park was empty for half an hour while the revellers stood under shelter patiently. Eventually, the gentleman organizer came around and shared a capful of a potent clear liquid with each attendee huddled under cover ... Maureen passed, gracias.
The rain lightened and the celebration dance was under way - a host came and wrapped coloured paper ribbons around each of our shoulders ... the hostess came forward to coat
READY to Dance
Ribbons around our necks, and pink colouring on our faces! each of our faces with a pink chalk-like powder, and then the music began!
A Peruvian folksong poured out of speakers and the group assembled in a circle surrounding the adorned tree. The organizer/host and his wife happily shuffle-danced to the centre of the circle, he with a large ribbon festooned axe balanced over his shoulder.
The group as a whole held hands and began to move in a circling, dancing fashion about the tree, and then the hombre with the axe stopped dancing, chugged a glass of chicha, and took two strong swipes of the axe to the tree trunk. He then passed the axe to his wife who chugged a glass of chicha, and she too wound up for a couple of swings. Small chunks of tree were dislodged but they now passed the axe onto ... Larry, who then picked as his female partner, Marguarita (Efrain's wife), to carry on the ritual of taking axe to tree trunk.
For the next half hour this pattern continued and the tree stubbornly refused to tumble. The job of chopping the tree down was continuously interrupted by offers of more and more of the alcoholic chicha as we danced
and clapped in the circle. FINALLY the large tree succumbed to an axe swing of Efrain and as the tree tumbled the adults and children all charged in towards the tree ... in BC there's a tendency to run in the other direction when a tree is felled, so this rush to the centre of the action not only looked foreign to us but amazingly dangerous a well. The tree hit the ground with a thud and to our astonishment no one was killed but the fervour of excitement was high and the crowd grabbed for balloons and the plasticware like the rush for Cabbage Patch dolls at Wal Mart in years gone by. It's a good thing Wal Mart didn't have chicha.
Because his blow felled the tree, Efrain and his family will now host the Carnavale next year - hot food, chicha, beer afterwards, more chicha, a sound system and music, round up the tree (two fellows were electrocuted Sunday felling their tree near high voltage power lines), decorate the tree etc etc. Speeches were made, thanks given, the Canadian guests acknowledged, and the dancing and chicha began again ... where were they getting all that chicha
from? Several elderly but spry Peruvian women wanted to make sure that Larry had a night to remember so they whipped him out onto the dance floor and went into hyperspeed ethnic dancing while everyone else was dancing sedately. Our hosts eventually rescued Larry ... and those dear ladies, too. Carnavale really was a lot of fun and we returned to our residence with Juanita for the start of her shift and our bedtime!
Despite constant fiestas of one type or another, there is a distinct lack of tourists in town with the closure of Machu Picchu (yesterday the local paper suggested April 1 as the new re-opening date and so far we have the option of moving our trip to MP back a week or two .. and after that ... it will be a long amble to the starting gate). The street vendors are lacking clients and as some of the precious few and obvious foreigners, we get approached continuously to buy finger puppets, hats, sweaters, scarves, paintings, carved gourds and necklaces, or to eat in this restaurant, or to have a massage, or to take a trip. With the scarcity of tourists, some of the vendors
(both kids and adults) now recognize us, we now know each others' names, and sometimes will sit and chat for awhile. Even with the lack of business, we see signs in many tiendas asking for salespeople, but just as at home, the hours are long (12 hours/ day) and the pay poor even by Cusco standards, so the jobs go unfilled.
Our nod to experiencing a little of Cusco's life this week was washing our laundry by hand, in cold water, outside with a scrub brush. The laundry is still drying as we speak. We are passing on the cold showers, however! Tonight we are off to Arequipa and Colca Canyon, home of the condors. The overnight bus has reclining chairs so let's hope for a good sleep and a safe journey.
In the meantime, from Cusco ... enjoy the OLYMPICS!
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val
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STUFF
Hi! Your stories bring back so many memories of Bolivia (cemetary,Chicha, people). I am so enjoying the Olympics- I'm volunteering at the paralympics in March at Whistler- should be fun! The excitement and patriotism is wonderful to see. Keep up the stories and pictures, would love to see your condors!! Take care, Val.