Monasterio Catalina

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And in Arequipa, there's a wonderful Sunday. From Asturias Hotel 4th floor one hears early morning revelers. Do they go straight to the Cathedral, or is there a shift change? The revelers stumble home and the holy and the penitent clock in and head for church. I'll have to ask Edison about all this. Poverty is all around, and letting the good times roll may be the order of the night. That's a simple formula in places like this. Peru has had its share of travail and terror, and not that long before.

The standard of living lingers below the poverty line as defined by any developed nation's standard. All around there are those racked by the effects of poverty, yet the grace by which people carry themselves and with which they face their situations suggest a long exposure to hard times and determination buoyed more by a deep and intelligent humility than by any stubborn pride.

A visitor inclines to look harshly on what they see. I think of the the woman putting the hustle on me to buy a fake alpaca sweater a few days ago. There is a long line of people peddling sweaters at that Inca site, as there are many others. Given their circumstances, their approach is understandable. Their plea is as direct as their poverty. They've got a matter of seconds to address each group of tourists as they walk by. One might argue that they may be heading home to gloat after skimming from the gringos, but that seems unlikely. That's happening somewhere else, where the ball has been dropped, or stolen.

In any comparison, I can't think of many reasons that people from a country like ours can be smug at this point in time.

This morning I sleep in. The desk attendant compliments me on my abiity to understand what she is saying in Spanish as she explains that there isn't anyone on hand today to launder clothes and that the Santa Catalina Monastery is just at the end of the street. I'm lightly flattered, but soon realize that my ability to speak is inverse to my ability to comprehend Spanish, with the speaking skill in the numerator. It's fun nonetheless to pretend, and it increases the resolve to learn a little more of the language.

Off I go to the monastary, a convent for Benedictine nuns of affluent background. The story goes that at some point in the 1750s there was a reform toward reigning in the lifestyle the sisters enjoyed. All I can say is that the nuns were well protected in the faithfulness. Construction began in the very late 1600s. The exterior of the structure is imposing, the walls thick. The nuns lived, and live, in a city within a city. The streets of Santa Cantalina are named for cities in Spain: Madrid, Sevilla, Toledo. Today, in a facility made for a couple hundred of sisters and their retinue, thirty nuns continue the tradition in a cloister within the cloister. The remaining areas of Santa Catalina see hundreds of tourists daily, the deal since 1970. There's a balance, and someone struck it. The nuns, in the past, lived in relative opulence. Today, they may have a simpler existence, filled or fraught with prayer. Say one for all of us.

The painted walls of the monastary, the color of red flower pots, and sky blue were inspiring on this sunny morning. No English guides are available at the time I come through, and fine by me. I wander through the place for two hours and work out how to take photos of the Cuzco school artwork in the convent art gallery.

Later in the day I find the market on the square and buy more snacks and food for lunch and dinner. The night out will need to wait until after the trek to Andagua. I'm a bit nervous about it and so head back to the hotel with, among other things, a whole roasted chicken. I'm even more doubtful I'll have good food to eat, or that I'll be able to eat any food, once I we climb higher. So I eat the chicken, along with a portion of local goat cheese, pineaple, mango, grapes, and bread while writing in the journal looking up on the hotel computer where in the world Choco and Chachas are located.

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Photos

Santa Cantalina
Shh!

Santa Catalina Church
Herbie the Love Bug spotted.