This is not a conclusion about Peru

I never got around to writing about my final weeks in Peru, but that by no means indicates that I have stopped reflecting on my experience. My entire stay in Peru was too much to process in a couple of blog posts, including the final weeks I spent exploring the country. I've been hesitant to write any concluding posts about Peru not just because I've been busy, but because I still don't know what to say. There are particular images that stick out to me when I think of my last days travelling in Peru and catching up with friends in Lima- seeing the Iberica chocolate workers on strike in the Plaza de Armas of Arequipa, going trekking in the vast Colca Canyon and discussing the issues surrounding tourism with our tour guide, visiting the wild and mysterious selva and seeing all sorts of whimsical animals, going on an extremely sketchy but immensely fun mountain biking adventure in the Sacred Valley in Cuzco (and meeting some fascinating people along the way), and my last jam sesh with Melissa Sue and company on the malécon. Yet there are equally influential, albeit less "exotic," snapshots and fleeting emotions that still stick with me as well- like the smile of a child riding on his mother's back in her colorful manta, the feeling of being the last person to barely squeeze onto a crowded combi, or the curiosity and guilt I felt when we rolled through poor rural towns on a tour bus. It is difficult to distill these experiences into a couple of typed words.

During my final days, it was an interesting change in perspective to transition from a student (and temporary resident) in Lima to a tourist visiting the other parts of Peru. In some ways, the sierra and selva represent a more authentic and traditional version of Peru than the urbanized, globalized metropolis of Lima; albeit, as a tourist, I had a less "real"experience in those cities. While I cannot claim to "know" (or conocer) Lima in a truly wholesome sense, I still feel more familiarity with it than the other parts of Peru. And to some of the people I met in Lima, the culture of Lima is just as authentic and close to their hearts as the culture their parents or grandparents left behind decades ago when they migrated to Lima. There are so many issues and themes that captured my curiosity during my semester in Peru, but I think it is this clash, fusion, or co-existing relationship between tradition and modernity struck me the most.

That said, I've been spending the past few weeks doing background research to apply for a undergraduate research grant to return to Peru this summer to investigate some of these issues surrounding culture and authenticity (which also happens to be the name of a book I'm reading on the subject). It is too much to simply make so many friends, to fall in love with the sights, sounds, and tastes of a place, and see the issues my friends are dealing with every day and then to abandon the country until I can afford to go on vacation there. Peru is still in my mind- so much, that it sometimes feels like I never really left. I have to go back. There is so much to learn.

La costa

So this past Saturday Chris, Brigitte, her twin sister Kristen, Michelle, and Gracie began our epic three week adventure.  Peru´s geography is divided into three sections la costa (the coast), la sierra (the mountains), and la selva (the jungle/ rainforest). I hope to update my blog as we travel through these three radically different parts of Peru which seem to serve as a microcosm of the world. This morning we arrived in the mountain town of Arequipa (after a 10 hour over night busride.. .rough!), but we have spent the past four days traveling south along Peru´s coast.

July 2nd: Chinca
I didn´t experience culture shock when I came to Peru to stay in Lima, yet leaving Lima to go to other parts of Peru has always unsettled me. The inequality within just one country is startling. On one hand, there is the meticulously groomed Parque Kennedy down the street from luxury hostels and an upscale mall in Lima. On the other hand, colored shanty towns made out of scrap metal huddle together on the dusty hills surrounding the city. The smell of these places- reeking of urine, decay, and fish- is unforgettable. Even when passing the places in bus, the poverty becomes intimate and offensive, invading your personal space and surrounding you.

Yet despite the facade of poverty, these areas are culturally rich. Earlier in the semester we visited Villa Salvador, a migrant town outside Lima that had developed into an organized community with various cultural groups. In Chinca, afro-peruvian music echoes down the streets and through the cotton fields. When we were in Chinca we visited the family of one of my professors who was famous for their role in the afro-peruvian music scene. Pictures of musicians and dancers lined the walls of their brightly colored house. The family invited us to play music on the cajones (percussion boxes often used in flamenco or even acoustic music), and later some of their friends from the town came and performed music and dance for us. Later, when we went out to eat dinner at one of the only restaurants in the small town, some of the musicians were gathered outside, still beating the cajones and singining and laughing happily. There seemed to be little the town would rather do on a Saturday night than chill out, drink a beer, and play some soulful music.

July 3rd and 4th: Paracas
The next day we travelled to Paracas, another coastal town. It also happens to be the setting in a short story we read earlier in the semester called ¨Con Jimmy en Paracas¨ by Peruvian author Alfredo Bryce Echenique. . We visited one of the luxury hotels there because it was the only place with an ATM, and we quickly identified it as the type of atmosphere where the story took place. The hotel was gorgeous, but it was so removed from the reality of the rest of the Peru. I felt like Manolo, the protagonist of Bryce Echenique´s story, who felt uncomfortable and unworthy amidst the rich businessmen who were staying in the hotel.


Later, we walked along the beach, passing along a bottle of some of the sweet wine made nearby in Ica. We made pasta for dinner and then went to bed early so we could get up the next day for our tours. At 8am we left the hostel to go on a boat tour of the Islas Ballestas. We saw the candelabra, an ancient drawing on a sand dune on one of the islands (which seemed rather fake, in all honesty). The rocky islands were absolutely gorgeous, however. They were covered in birds, penguins, and sea lions; although the birds definitely dominated the space. They cackled at the boat as we drove by and some of them later flew away in smokey Vs to search for food. Most importantly, they pooped. The yellow rocks were inundated in white bird poop that dripped from the top of the rocks. The poop, called guano and tradicionally exported for fertilizer, was the basis of the Peruvian economy in the early 19th century. My professor spent almost every day in my Estado y Sociedad en el Perú class talking about the role of guano in building the state of Perú (through the collection of taxes) and facilitating the development of a proyecto nacional. Finally I had gotten to see the famous bird poop itself... even though today it is not harvested to the same extent as before because it is not as effective as it was once believed to be.


After the boat tour we went on another tour to see the desert surrounding the small fishing town. We spent the day with some other tourists, including a pair of  British lasses. We ended up celebrating Independence Day with the British.

July 5th: Nazca

El mono (the monkey).
Image from Skepdic.com

After hearing that prices to see the Nazca lines by helicopter/ plane had doubled thanks to an accident that had occured a few months prior, the majority of our group decided to pay a taxi driver to take us to see the lines from three miradores. The Nazca lines are a series of mysterious lines and figures (that form firgures like a monkey, a tree, a 5-legged dog, and a crocodile) in the middle of the desert of Nazca. They were believed to be made over two thousand years ago and little is known about their origin. Some speculate that the lines were used for astronomical purposes (like to mark Winter Solstice) to help with agriculture, others, like my history teacher, say that they were sacred paths that the populators would walk in hopes that the ceremonios walk would bring water to the region.

However, my favorite part of the day was sand-boarding. We went in a dune buggie into the immense, desolate deserts of Nazca to ride along the dunes and test our skill sand boarding down the hills (and we suceeded). On the way to the dunes, we stopped at an aqueducts, a cemetary (with bright white, sand blasted bones lying about), and recently discovered pyramids in the desert.

However, climbing up the dunes to ride the sand board down again and again and spending the night on a bus has left me completely exhausted. I´m off for the night, though I hope to update the post later with some of my own pictures.

Peruvian melodies

I can't believe that my time in Peru is finally coming to an end. Every day is memorable, having its own quirks, surprises, and lessons- yet time just flies by. In just a few days I'll be finished with my final exams and beginning a three week trip around Peru. After that, I'll be returning to the culture that I left behind in the US (but that still manifests itself everyday in highly Americanized Lima). I'm going to try to catch up on some themes that I've been meaning to blog about before I leave de viaje on Friday. This post's theme: music.

I never expected to find myself so immersed in the music scene in Lima. Just like everything else in Lima, the music scene is evidence of the clash of cultures that has taken place in Peru since the arrival of the Spaniards in the 16th century and American culture in the 20th century. In the past weekend alone I've heard old school American rock and roll, Andean folk music, reggaeton, pop music, salsa, música criolla, and afro-peruvian music. Other weeks I've spent the evening listening a live jazz band in a local underground bar or playing flamenco music with an elderly old man in the park.

Peruvian tió playing the charango and
zampoña (fota de vistv)

Among my friends at school, classic rock and indie music is popular- just like with my friends back home! One of my good friends plays in a Jimi Hendrix cover band, and another of my good patas introduced me to Faith and California Orange, two local Lima bands that play original music and covers (both with English names that are evidence of the cultural invasion). Yet take a bus to go clubbing and you'll hear the driver playing techno-cumbia or terrible '80s pop... that is, until a street musician hops on the bus and starts playing the Peruvian folk standard "'El Condor Pasa" on the charango (ukelele-like instrument) and zampoña (Peruvian pan flute)- all at the same time. Then walk into any bar on Calle Bolivar in Barranco and you'll hear reaggaeton (and reggaeton re-mixes of pop songs) blasting from the speakers. And on the taxi ride back you can expect to here salsa- or, the taxista, upon seeing you, will switch to trashy American pop, as has happened to me countless times.

The Alcatraz
Courtesy Caterina de Sky Scraper Life

Last Friday night I learned how to dance salsa (yet again.. though this time not from a drunken Peruvian) and música negra (Afro-Peruvian music). Afterwards the group went to a peña at Don Porifio's.  The house band altered between playing música criolla and Afro-Peruvian songs. During the criolla songs, the guests would get up and dance the marinera, a traditional dance in which both partners try to seduce each other with a handkerchief. However, my favorite part was the música negra. One song seemed to be a combination of tap dancing and step. The most memorable dance, the alcatraz, involves a pair chasing each other around with candles trying to light the other's butt on fire while the other grooves to try to put the fire out with their outfit (I kid you not). One of the girls from our group got invited to dance the alcatraz and succeeded in not getting lit on fire... that is, until one of the dancers distracted her.

La marinera couresty
PERUAN-ITA

Yet perhaps one of my favorite nights in Peru was when I was invited to a house concert in Pueblo Libre. A bunch of old friends (many of whom I was told were famous musicians) gathered to sit in a welcoming circle and play música criolla (the music of the descendants of the Spanish colonists born in Peru). There were at least three guitars playing while everyone else clapped rhythmically and shouted encouraging phrases to whomever happened to be singing at the time. The melody passed from friend to friend during each song, many of whom made up their own lyrics in the process, though always singly proudly, loudly, and from the deepest part of the heart. It was a communal and inclusive show. The host of the gathering and his wife even got up and danced the marinera in the middle of the circle a few times. The host, the uncle of Alberto, a friend from school, was quite the jokester (and the drinker). Every thing he said was a double entendre. After each comment he would turn to me with a smirk on his face and ask me if I understood. Slightly awkward, but I was a guest so I had to laugh. He was quite the character. But then again, so are most of the people I've met in Lima. And that leads me to my topic for tomorrow...

A history of hypocrisy

image taken from ariverrr on devinantart.com

It’s ironic that, in the process of her big media tour in remembrance of our country's history, Sarah Palin has shown that doesn't even know basic history like the ride of Paul Revere. It’s evidence of how the Tea Party just picks and chooses aspects of American history that fits their political agenda without really stopping to fully understand our nation’s complicated history. Yet Sarah Palin’s biggest mistake isn’t that she’s confused parts of our history like Paul Revere’s midnight ride (which has already been largely fictionalized), it’s in ignoring the darker parts of our history that are just as much a part of our identity today.

Our history is valuable, but we must remember all of it in order to truly value it. We must remember or mistakes, virtues, and hypocrisies- of which there are many. We are a country that celebrates personal freedom, yet our founding fathers relied on abusive slave labor to run their plantations. We are a country obsessed with private property, yet we stole our land from native American Indians (whom we also massacred). We are a country that boasts of our democracy, yet women only recently were given the right to vote. We are a country that celebrates diversity, yet we forcefully interned thousands of Japanese-American citizens during World War II out of fear and racism. We are a country that values freedom of expression, yet we imprisoned and marginalized American communists during the Cold War. We are a country that was founded by illegal immigrants, yet we exploit the immigrants that come to our country. We are a country that idolizes democracy, yet the CIA overthrew democratic governments abroad that threatened our businesses. We are a country that promises the American Dream to our children, yet we have the 43rd most unequal distribution of wealth in the world. We are a country that fought against our British colonial overlords, yet we have set up our own colonial governments in Iraq and Afghanistan. We are a country that promises freedom of religion to its citizens, yet we protested the construction of a mosque in New York City. We are a country that sings of our ''purple mountains majesty'' and ''fruited plains'' yet we strip mine our mountains into oblivion and choke our crops with pollution.

The truth is, our history is stained by exclusivity and hypocrisy. Yet no one talks about it honestly. We let our pride, patriotism, and self-love get in the way of truly comprehending our nation’s past. After all, that’s what sells books and gets votes (just ask Sarah Palin).

The good news is, that although American does have a history that includes innumerable mistakes, we also have a history that includes people fighting against those mistakes. Susan B. Anthony, Martin Luther King Jr, and Cesár Chávez have done more for the majority of our country than our Founding Fathers- who ignored the rights of women, blacks, and Hispanics. If Sarah Palin starts talking about these leaders on her book tour, then maybe I’ll give her a listen.

In the end, I believe that the real strength of our nation isn't our history, but our tradition of learning from the past and progressing to a better future. However, in order to keep progressing as a nation we must confront the mistakes of our past, not ignore them.

Fujimori nunca más

Students from my university

As I was lying in my bed Thursday night trying to sleep, I could still hear the echoes of the thousands of protesters as they marched through the streets of Lima. "Con justicia y dignidad, Fujimori nunca más." "La juventud consciente. No elije un delicuente." "Chino, chino, chino. Corrupto y asesino." ... Earlier that day, the National Coordinator of Human Rights organized the "With Justice and Dignity, Fujimori No More" march to remember the victims of the government of former Peruvian dictator Alberto Fujimori and to protest the candidacy of his daughter, Keiko Fujimori.

Paper maché Fuji-rata

As I have been involved with part of the campaign against Fujimori, I eagerly attended the march. It was perhaps one of the most unforgettable experiences I've had in Peru so far. I will not forget the sound of thousands of footsteps marching through the street, the passionate, perpetual chants of the activists, the angry horns of the taxis and combis caught in the middle of the mobilization, and the buzz of the spray cans as the protesters inundated the streets in graffiti as we walked. An estimated 10,000-15,000 people attended the march from all sectors of society- lawyers, human rights activists, students, family members of the victims, religious groups, doctors, victims of forced sterilization... Regardless of the their background, everyone present was united by their sincerity and passion to remember the injustices of the Fujimori dictatorship and to prevent it from being resurrected. People of all ages held handmade signs and banners and paraded through the streets with paper maché caricatures of the fujimoristas.

Some crucial background info:

My friend Dorita

Alberto Fujimori was elected president of Peru in 1990, a time in which Peru was struggling with a developing economy and combating two left-wing terrorist groups, Sendero Luminoso and the MRTA. Although he explicitly opposed an economic shock doctrine in his campaign, he instituted a policy of economic shock shortly after assuming power, augmenting already high poverty levels (which had fomented the terrorism in the first place). In 1993, he suspended congress and issued a new constitution to give himself and his party more control over the state apparatus. In 2000, Fujimori was re-reelected president of Peru through fraudulent elections, though public protests eventually forced him to resign (via a fax message) and flee to Japan, where he claimed citizenship. 

Korrupción.

During his regime, it is estimated that Fujimori stole $6 billion from the state, making him the most corrupt Peruvian president and the seventh most corrupt president in the world of all time. In 2009, he was extradited to Peru and found culpable of crimes against humanity because of the assassinations and tortures he authorized. In the two most famous examples, Fujimori's death squad, Grupo Colina, masascred innocent Peruvians (including a child) in Barrios Altos and disappeared, tortured, and murdered 9 students and a professor at La Cantuta University. Fujimori is also guilty for his population control plan which forcibilly sterilized thousands of rural, peasant women. He was also found guilty of embezzlement and bribery. After the trails, Fujimori was sentenced to 25 years in prison, where he now resides and receives hundreds of visits per day. The campaign trucks of his daughter are regularly spotted outside the prison, and some speculate that he is running her campaign.

Catolica University remembers
the victims at La Cantuta.

Despite the fujimoristas legacy of corruption, fear, and massacres, Keiko Fujimori is the frontrunner in the second round of national elections. Keiko has done little to distance her self from her father's dictatorship. She repeatedly refers to his government as "el mejor gobierno de todos los tiempos" (''the best government of all time") and her Plan de Gobierno (Government plan) frequently references her father's government. While her father was president, Keiko essentially became the Primera Dama (First Lady) after her mother separated from her father. Keiko's mother denounced the corruption of Fujimori's regime, and was supposedly tortured in the notorious Sotonos SIE for doing so. Additionally, taxpayers payed hundreds of thousands of dollars for Keiko (and her three siblings) to attend university at expensive schools in the US. Aside from all this, Keiko has done very little in her political career besides skipping an alarming amount of congressional sessions and only authoring 6 marginally important bills in her entire career. 

Why then, are people supporting Keiko? In Lima, many members of the middle and upper class see her as the lesser of two evils. Her opponent, left-wing military strongman Ollanta Humala, is consistently branded by the right-wing press as a Hugo-Chavez figure who would undo all of the economic development Peru has experienced. In rural areas, the fujimoristas operate a sort of political machine or patron-clientilism where they build (poor quality) schools and give handouts for votes that the constituents have now become dependent on.

Who will win on July 5th? Protests all throughout Peru, culminating in the protest in Lima on Thursday, have shown that the legacy of Alberto Fujimori will not be forgotten. However, the majority of the press has backed Keiko, and some news stations have even fired commentators for supporting Ollanta, overshadowing the voice of these people. If Keiko wins, I have no doubt that the protesters will once again hit the streets, but this times with their cries even louder than before... that is, if Keiko doesn't have her own death squad in place by then to stop them.

External costs, protests in Peru, and ecological debt

Litter in Huaraz (not quite an external cost, but still carelessness)

Last semester in an anthropology class I first learned of the concept of external costs, or the costs of production that aren't included in the price that the consumer pays. For example, when you buy a good in most cases you aren't paying for the environmental and human cost involved in the production of the good. Inevitably, the production of the good impacts the environment in some way (waste dumping, fossil fuel emission, deforestation, etc) and probably human health by extension. However, the producer and the consumer don't pay that cost.The local community does. In many cases an unaccountable multinational cooperation causes the damage abroad and the local communities (which are often poor) are forced to incur them. As a consequence, the community suffers from a debilitated environment and poor human health (external costs) AND, if it has the resources, must use its own money to attempt to correct for the damages. I wish that I had learned about this consequence of manufacturing in Econ 201 OR 202. I guess it didn't fit the (blatantly obvious) neoliberal agenda of my hotshot professors.

"Yes to agriculture/ No to mining" Foto from CNR

For the past few months protesters in Islay, Peru have been protesting the Tía María mining project because of anticipated external costs of the project. Mexican transnational Southern Copper Corporation was scheduled to mine in the area and even "cared enough" to do a Study of the Environmental Impact of it's proposed project. However, the protesters did not trust the authenticity of the results of the study, claiming that it underestimated the costs- specifically that the project would contaminate the water of the agricultural town. For 17 days, protesters striked. During the protests 3 people were killed by the riot police and 50 were injured. However, the protesters were successful in the end and on April 4th the Ministry of Energy and Mining cancelled the project (right before the first round of national elections on the 10th).

In the case of Tía María, extensive external costs were prevented thanks to a successful social movement. However, that is not the norm. In Martínez Alier and Roca Jusmet's article "Economía ecológica y política ambiental" they introduce the concept of ecological debt (dueda ecologica)- or the idea that the unpaid external costs of production have built up and, like all debt, must be paid back. In the context of Latin America, this ecological debt is largely a consequence of multinational corporations and policies by the IMF and the World Bank. They tell how Latin American incurred massive amounts of external debt in the '70s and '80s which summed up to $700 billion by 1999, and then explain how the IMF and World Bank intervened with economic programs to "help" Latin America pay back the debt. These programs depended on increasing the number of exports from Latin America to the West- a rapid acceleration of manufacturing that simultaneously created vast environmental external costs. The authors argue that while Latin America paid off it's external debt, it build up ecological debt. Or rather, the demand by the West for cheap resources from Latin America built off a ecological debt that they now owe Latin America.

Some of these costs materialized last February in a court case in Ecuador. Ecuadorian court recently ordered oil company Chevron to pay $9 billion in damages and to issue a public apology for the environmental costs of its projects in the Ecuadorian Amazon. Of course, Chevron is rapidly protesting the decisions (and did some ethically questionably things during the trial), but this is a huge step in realizing ecological debt. Yet as I am typing this I commercial came on TV touting all the "good" that Chevron is doing for the economy (which is much more important than the environment, right?).

However, the Chevron case is only one of the few instances where the external costs have materialized into a debt that must be paid off. Imagine if all companies were taken to court to be held accountable for the external costs of their business. Better, imagine if the external costs were already included in the price of an item (something fair trade is on the way to addressing). One thing that has struck me most about Peru is it's ecological beauty. I have never seen a place so I beautiful and inspiring in the world. I hope that the demand for cheap technology and pretty things doesn't destroy it.

El ritmo

Long time no post. I guess I'm starting to get in the rhythm of things here.

Around 7 in the morning I start fighting the sounds of the city- the perpetual car alarms, honking, and chatter from the surrounding apartments- until I finally get up around 8. Then I catch a crazy combi (bus) to go to school, my internship at Aprodeh (a human rights organization), or the children's hospital to volunteer, depending on the day. Afterwards, I take another combi to Ruiz to eat lunch with my friends under the same tree in the courtyard, and then I try to work on homework but inevitably get pulled into a conversation or a game of volleyball. Then I sit in class, counting down the minutes until I can leave to go home. Another combi. Home. Shower. Eat (by now it's usually 9 or 10). Talk to friends. Homework. Fall asleep on Skype with Chris. Repeat. Though I admit that this routine was broken by Semana Santa and Parciales (mid-terms!) this week.

It's the weekends that I look forward to most... to playing guitar facing the expanse of the sea and to hanging out with my causas (buddies) until the sun comes up. Yet everything speeds by and I find myself sitting on my bed on Sunday afternoon reliving flashbacks from the weekend wondering where time went.

Two Sundays ago we went to an archeological site just outside Lima called Pachacámac. Perhaps it was because of the heat and the fact that I didn't really sleep before going, but the whole time I felt like a ghost haunting what once was a great civilization. Although Peru is famous for the Incas, I am constantly surprised by the number of grand civilizations that existed before the Incans (like the ones that inhabited Pachacámac). It was a beautiful site, from the carefully constructed puzzle-piece walls made of stones of different sizes to the pyramids with gorgeous views of the desert and the ocean.

After lunch we visited a ceramic workshop in the artesian district. The shop was modest, but full of thousands of colorful ceramics illuminated by a soft, natural light that peeked through the roof. I noticed that the shop had a few signs posted about fair trade and ecological issues, and it turns out that the artesian collective is partnered with Ten Thousand Villages, a fair trade craft store in the US (with a store that just opened in Charlottesville)! What a small world. I am a huge advocate of fair trade and happy to see it functioning and in action. While we were at the workshop, we each got to make our own miniature ceramic using the molds from the shop too. The owner was elated and proud to share his craft with us.

And Easter weekend I traveled to Huaraz with the girls and some friends from school. That was an amazing experience too. Check back later for the whole story, though I have no idea how I am going to be able to condense 4 days and 700 pictures into one blogpost....

*credit goes to Johanna for the fotos since I forgot my SD card at home.

Presidential elections according to a gringa

After lots of build up and anticipation, today was the first round of presidential and congressional elections in Peru. Even Google Peru was prepared for the elections today and changed its homepage. As for myself, I've really enjoyed being able to witness the campaigning and election process in Peru from the very moment I set foot in Lima. I remember being surprised by the never-ending sea of giant billboards alongside the road and the discarded political propaganda on the streets when I first got here. Even the sierra (mountains) and selva (rainforest) regions of Peru were inundated with political advertisements. I was puzzled by the sight of rocks hand-painted with party slogans in what I thought was the middle of nowhere. Regrettably, I never got to attend a rally or a protest because it's illegal for foreigners to participate in them, even as a bystander.

Wall painted in favor of Keiko in the mountains of Tarma

There is no dearth of differences between the US and Peruvian electoral system. To begin with, to the dismay of nearly everyone, the sale and consumption of alcohol was prohibited beginning on Friday in order to prepare for the elections (it's called the la ley seca, or the dry law). A more relevant difference is the fact that voting is compulsory in Peru. Everyone between 18 and 70 is required to vote in their hometown. Those that don't vote must pay a fine around 350 soles (~$130). To avoid having to choose between the lesser of two evils, some voters invalidate their ballots by marking all of the candidates or making stray marks. However, most Peruvians I've talked with don't seem to mind the compulsory voting. Although Peruvians are famous for being indecisive before the elections, everyone I've talked to had an opinion about the candidates and was more or less informed about the elections.

Campaign HQ in Tarma that was
blasting Castaneda's theme song
when we walked by.

Another visible difference between the political environment is the weakness of party structure here. Instead, politics is driven by the strength of the caudillo (strong man) that leads a loose coalition of parties as their presidential candidate. Congressional candidates are labeled by what presidential candidate they support (which brings me to another difference- the national legislature is unicameral). However, it's not common for someone to vote for different "political parties" for President and congress, because again, the person is more important than the party. Caudillos spent a lot of time building their image, charisma, and persona. I enjoyed the fact that nearly every presidential candidate had his/her own theme song and mascot. PPK had PPKuy (cuy= guinea pig) and Keiko had a slightly terrifying star-person.

L to R: Castaneda, Toledo, Keiko, Ollanta, PPK
(from livinginperu.com)

The five principle presidential candidates were, in general order of popularlity, Ollanta Humala of Gana Perú, Keiko Fujimori of Fuerza 2011, Pedro Pablo Kuczynski (PPK) of Alianza por el Gran Cambio, Alejandro Toledo of Perú Posible, and Luis Castaneda of Solidaridad Nacional. (As a sign of the transitory nature of political parties, Keiko's party is called Force 2011- a name that clearly won't apply in the future). Although the results are not official yet, it's generally accepted that Ollanta and Keiko will go on to the second round. They are easily the two most polarizing candidates, and the general public is up in arms. Peruvian Nobel Prize winner Mario Vargas Llosa equated having to choose between them in the final round to "having to chose between AIDS and cancer."

Ollanta, by far the handsomest of
the candidates. (from AP)

Ollanta Humala will once again pass on to the second round (he was a finalist in last term's elections). Ollanta was the only viable left-wing candidate on the ballot, though he also represents a comparatively extreme left. His opponents liken him to Hugo Chavez of Venezuela. Nevertheless, he has maintained a consistent level of popularity, especially among the poor in the South and rural areas. Considering the fact that 40% of Peruvians live below the poverty line, his popularity as the candidate that "steals from the rich to give to the poor" is not surprising. I was more or less in favor of Ollanta until it was unsurfaced that he equated Peruvian Maoist terrorist group Sendero Luminoso to the Robbing Hood of the poor. Peru's history with Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) is still very touchy, as 70,000 Peruvians died at the hands of terrorist group and the government's equally inhuman response. And that brings me to Keiko.

Political cartoon of Keiko by renowned cartoonist Carlin.

Keiko Fujimori will also advance to the second round, though I haven't met anyone who actually supports her. She is the daugther of previous president/ dictator Alberto Fujimori who is currently incarcerated for a long list of human rights violations during his dictatorship and reckless fight against Sendero Luminoso. The political cartoon to the left references the extensive corruption of her father's regime, and implies that she doesn't fall far from the tree. Although she is an eloquent speaker and boasts degrees from NYU and Boston, her claim to fame (and infamy) comes more from her father's legacy than her own. Surprisingly, many Peruvians support Alberto Fujimori because he effectively eliminated Sendero Luminoso; although at the cost of human rights violations and the loss of innocent lives.

Aforementioned PPKuy

Coming in third place (surging ahead of former president Alejandro Toledo at the last minute) was Pedro Pablo Kuczynski (PPK). PPK was easily the favored candidate among the urban elite and university students. He is an economic technocrat, having held executive positions in the World Bank and American bank. He also was the Economic Minister during his current presidential opponent Toledo's government. More controversially, he also has dual US-Peruvian citizenship, and his opponents have branded him as Mister Kuczynski or El Gringo. In the past, PPK has donated thousands of dollars to Republican candidates in the US, including former Pres. George Bush. That was the deal-breaker for me.

I'm glad that I didn't have to vote in the elections, because I don't know who I would vote for. I probably would have supported Toledo, the least polemic of the candidates. Or maybe I would have invalidated my ballot. Who knows. I'm glad I'll be able to vote for Obama next year.

Nevertheless, now Peru has to decide between Ollanta and Keiko- "AIDS and cancer." After the results of the first round of elections just a few hours ago, an atmosphere of fear and apprehension has begun to take over Lima (if not just the gazillion wall posts from my Peruvian friends on Facebook). Before the results of the elections, Peru was generally marked by an atmosphere of pride and optimism. The economy has been growing at impressing rates, and Peru has recently branded itself as a prime destination for eco- and gastro-tourism. I like to think that the Peruvian spirit is so strong that not even a bad president could change that. Viva Peru.

Three scenes from the weekend

"Ustedes son la luz del mundo: ¿cómo se  puede esconder una ciudad asentada sobre un mote? Nadie enciende una lámpara para taparla con un cajón; la ponen más bien sobre un candelero, y alumbra a todos los que están en la casa. hagan, pues, que brille su luz ante los hombres"."

-Mateo 5, 13-16

Oración al estile taizé

The Catholic faith has a very strong presence in Peru (as per most of Latin America)- whether it be socially, academically, or architecturally. The most prestigious university here is Pontificia Universidad Católica del Perú, and the university I attend is a Jesuit school. It's not common for someone to ask me if I am Catholic too. Afraid of offending anyone, I ambiguously reply that I am "todavia buscando" (still looking [for religion]).

Despite my non-theism,  I stayed after classes on Friday to attend a prayer and meditation hosted by one of the student Jesuit groups. They assembled a beautiful setup of flowing, colorful cloth, candles, and pillows in between the classrooms. The candlelight casted elegant shadows on the wall, while three guitarists strummed hymns on their classical guitars. It was a very peaceful, relaxing environment. It was nice to have a time for spiritual mediation, even if my personal mediation was not religious in nature. In fact, my friends in the group stressed that the event was a time of relaxation, not a time of fundamentalism. I much prefer this moderate and peaceful approach to religion and life. Maybe that's why the word "tranquilo" is commonly used here.

"Yo no quería una vida normal. No me gustaban los horarios de oficina.

Mi espíritu rebelde se reía del dinero, del lujo y el comfort.

Y tuve una revelación, ya se que quiero en esta vida.

Voy a seguir mi vocación será la música mi techo y mi comida.

Porque yo no quiero trabajar, no quiero ir a estudiar,

No me quiero casar. Quiero tocar la guitarra todo el dia."

-"La guitarra" por Los Autenticos Decadentes

El malecón en la noche

Later that night, Mauricio and I sat hunched over guitars and facing the ocean on the malecón, the boardwalk on the Costa Verde. We jammed for hours, our eyes fixed on our fretboards, looking up only occasionally to observe the skater kids, beggars, and lovers that rambled through the park. It was such a peaceful night. A light breeze from the ocean rushed gently by, and the city lights danced on water alongside the reflection of stars. It seemed to be the only place in Lima not polluted by the constant clatter of traffic noise. Instead, we made our own sounds, exchanging songs and melodies that we were once passed down to us. He taught me strange scales and flamenco songs from a gypsy he met on the street, and I shared songs that Scott taught me when he was still alive. I've always admired the ability of music to bring people together from all walks of life.

"Soy las ganas de vivir, las ganas de cruzar.  / Las ganas de conocer lo que hay después del mar...

No tengo todo calculado ni mi vida resuelta / Sólo tengo una sonrisa y espero una de vuelto.

Yo confío en el destino y en la marejada / Yo no creo en la iglesia pero creo en tu mirada.

Tú eres el sol en mi cara cuando me levanta.../ Dame la mano y vamos a darle la vuelta al mundo."

-"La vuelta al mundo" por Calle 13 

Caminata Universitaria

The next day, we all woke up early to attend the Caminata Universitaria, a 10 km walk alongside the coast organized by the university. We meandered in pairs in an abstract line down the malecón, then down the narrow stairs to the beach, and eventually alongside the rocky shore of the ocean. Every 40 minutes we changed partners to discuss the questions that our leaders had given us. We conversed about our childhood dreams, expectations for the semester, and whatever else was on our minds.

Over the course of the day I talked to chipper Diana whose childhood dream was (surprisingly) to destroy the world and create her own utopia, listened to the story of a man who works at the university (whose name I forgot) who, at the last minute, dropped out of seminary school to be with his family, searched for explanations with Jennifer and Brigette for lost love and the human identity, and chatted with Ines about the current presidential elections in Peru. At one point on our journey, we were accompanied by the marching and shouting of about 3,000 military and police members who were running a marathon on the road that runs parallel to the shore. We ended our trek at a church on the edge of the coast. Vibrant flowers grew in every corner of the courtyard, and the view from the top of the cost was astounding and unobstructed. Before calling it quits, we took the time to reflect on the day, the environment, and our experiences. I really admire how philisophical the Jesuit groups are here and how they are constantly reflecting and evaluating their work. It is, in a sense, what I am trying to do with this blog.

Music, market, and coast

I am so thankful for the kindness and friendliness of the Peruvians, especially my classmates at Ruiz. I'm glad to be able to help Jose with his English homework, talk with Julio (aka "el gato") about US-Latin American relations, talk about boys with Jenifer, and discuss classic rock bands with Mauricio. I love that Peruvians greet each other with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and are always eager to include you in their conversation.

On Friday, I finally got to play guitar for my Peruvian friends and to meet another student who plays the guitar! I was so excited to finally meet a part of the group that I've seen jamming on campus. Mauricio gave me a list of Latin American rock bands to look up for tarea, including La Ley, Sui Generis (click for a beautiful '70s rock ballad), and Quechuan-blues band Uchpa. More recently, he suggested Mano Negra and Hot Pants, two of Manu Chao's old bands. Regretably, I can't watch many videos on YouTube because they aren't licensed to be played out of the country. In fact, Hulu, Netflix, and Pandora aren't accessible at all from Peru.

After a dinner of pollo a la brasa, the group went to a karaoke bar. It was a lot more formal (and fun) than I expected. I laughed when someone from another group sung "Firework" by Katie Perry, and also when a Calle 13 song came on. Karaoke is serious business here. 

Saturday Brigette and I woke up early to meet Patricia at an organic farmer's market in Miraflores. We slowly made our way down a line of colorful booths with fruits, vegetables, dairy products, crafts, and herbs. It reminded me a lot of the Charlottesville farmer's market, although with tropical produce instead of Virginia harvests. It's cool to see the local food movement in action in another locality... even though Juan Carlos still claims organic farming is a lie.

We left early from the market to meet up with Jose, Martin, Diego, and Pati to go on a tour of  Miraflores and to visit the Peruvian-Japanese cultural center. Peru has a large Asian population, and there are about 90,000 people of Japanese descent living in Peru. Past president Fujimori is of Japonese descent, and so is daughter who is a presidential candidate. Chinese (chifa) and Japanese restaurants are everywhere, and Lima even has it's own China Town (Barrio Chino). Multiculturalism ftw!

Afterwards, we checked out the beach of Miraflores (my district). Lima's coast (La Costa Verde) is unique because the beach is on a small cliff, and the actual beach itself is small, rocky, and (regrettably) full of trash that had been washed up from the tsunami. Flying in the air were  men in chairs with a giant fan and a parachute attached to them, seemingly defying physics to fly in the sky to advertise admissions exams for a local university. Surfers were waiting in the sea for the perfect wave. I'd love to join them sometime.

So much to do and so little time! Sometimes I think that 5 months here is an excruciatingly long time to be away from UVa, other times I lament that it's not enough time to fully experience Peru (much less the city of Lima or the district of Miraflores). 

Notes from the awkward foreign kid

School started yesterday! Here are some quick observations:

- For my classes so far, I've gone to the classroom one or two minutes before my class is supposed to start and found it empty. Each time I panic for a few minutes and fear that I'm in the wrong room, but then the rest of the class casually floods in.
- Understanding the professors isn't nearly as hard as I thought (except for the professor from Uruguay, who has a thick accent. I might drop his class though). Understanding my classmates, on the other hand, is much more difficult.
- Although there are readings for each course, we aren't expected to buy the books. Instead, we pick up the readings every week from the photocopier or make our own copies from the books in the library. At least, I'm pretty sure that's the system. I'm still confused.
- I'm slowly realizing that I'm the awkward foreign kid. :(
- Very few students use lined paper to take notes. Instead, practically everyone uses graph paper.
- The cafeteria food is delicious. Lunch (not dinner) is the primary meal here, so we are served two dishes a day at lunchtime. I don't remember the names of the dishes we've had, but they're great!
- It's interesting to see some of the same college cliques here in Peru. Hipsters, nerds, preps- we've got 'em.
- For those who are curious, I'm taking State and Society in Peru, History of Peru I, and Directed Spanish Readings. I'm also currently in Political Systems and Regimes, but I'm probably going to drop it to take Social Movements and Conflicts instead.

Well, that's all folks. More retrospective posts to come later.

Exploring Lima

After a wonderful adventure outside the city, I'm happy to finally start familiarizing myself with Lima from the perspective of a tourist and a resident. Exploring the city is both exciting and frustrating. It's so easy to get lost, but sometimes getting lost leads to new discoveries! I found a few spots I look forward to hanging out at once classes start and I get in the rhythm of things. :)

On Friday, I was pleasantly surprised on my birthday by the kindness of my new Peruvian family. My host mom took me out to lunch to Crepes & Waffles, a South American chain that primarily employees single mothers. Later, I went to a museum with the UVA group which featured pottery. Although the ceramics were primarily designed to be functional, I absolutely love the stylized figures that the various indigenous groups incorporated into the design. Later we joined the directors of the program for dinner at La Linterna, a pizzeria. Don Jorge de la Mancha even got me a cake. :)

Yesterday, Jose, Cristobal, Julio, and Susan showed us around the tourist attractions of Lima. It was nice see the city sights with the locals (including an art exhibit featuring the sculpture to the right). For lunch we had pollo a la brasa, one of the most famous Peruvian dishes. I'd have to say that my favorite part of our excursion was running around in the catacombs of the Museum of the Spanish Inquisition (which was otherwise pretty creepy and a terrible event in human history). At night we joined up with Dorita (la Exploradorita) at Estadio, a sports bar in central Lima. We were enjoying some dancing, pisco, and Spanish music when all of a sudden we were all given masks and the dancefloor was inundated in balloons, glitter, and confetti. It was La Hora Loca, which translates to "the sudden arrival of a band of exquisitely dressed, confrontational clowns, one of which was wearing bouncing-stilts, who were likely rolling." Possibly one of the strangest experiences in my life.

Today was much more low key. The highlight of the day was going to the Mali Art Museum. Most of the modern art addressed a political theme. My favorite piece was "Laberintos (after Octavio Paz)" by William Cordova. The piece was a collection of vinyl records which had been arranged into a maze. The records were stolen from Yale University library to protest Yale's illegal witholding of Peruvian artifacts. Nearly 100 years ago Peru temporarily loaned thousands of Incan relics to Yale, but Yale had been refusing to return them for decades, claiming that Peru no longer owned its own artifacts. After pressure from the president of Peru, President Obama, and alumni, Yale agreed last month to give the relics back to Peru and to store them at a university in Cuzco. In light of current events, I wonder if the artist will return these records. To continue with this theme of theft, I illegally took this picture of the work to better remember it.

Well, that's all for now. I start classes tomorrow... though I only have one class on Mondays and Wednesdays. I'm a little nervous, but mostly excited. Hasta luego!

Mountains and jungles and mudslides- oh my!

How can I describe the past five days? I can hardly put my experience in words, and photos only capture some of the adventure. I will remember the beauty and culture of the Andes Mountains and Amazon Rainforest for the rest of my life.

In Tarma we retraced part of the Incan trail, our footsteps impacting the same earth that the Incans did. We walked alongside medicinal herbs that were supposed to bring good luck or love, used in tequila, and said to cure cancer. Our guide, Jose Louis, was a curandero and Andean priest. He explained the significance of everything we passed, having an ancient connection to the place. I really admire his perspective on life.

Jose Louis was also the night guard for the Hacienda Santa Maria, the beautiful hotel where we stayed. Our room once housed a Peruvian general (and later president) who was on the run from Chilean invaders. The Hacienda had a gorgeous flower farm, adorable dogs, a cat, and a vicuna, and beautiful, colonial architecture.

The next day in Tarma, he and Silvestro led us on a 9 hour trek through the mountains. The deep, bright green of the valleys, dark black rock of the mountains, and glistening blue reflection of the sky in the arroyos will remain in my dreams forever. This part of the Andean mountains was practically untouched by modern civilization, aside from a recently installed electricity line. We occasionally saw the house of a shepard or a flock of sheep (or llamas), but mostly the landscape was empty and pure. It was a place to think and admire the mountains without distractions. As we walked, Jose Louis sprinkled sugar on the ground to bless the mountain and its spirits (duendes). At the top of the mountain, which was 14,000 feet, he stacked rocks together to thank the Panchamama (Mother Earth) for granting us a safe journey. He offered her herbs and sugar and said a prayer in Quechua. With the sun, high altitude, and accompanying burns and headaches, we were indeed thankful to make it to the top of the mountain.

On Sunday we visited a dairy cooperative that is said to make the best cheese and butter in the world. It takes a week to make a pound of butter, and only something like less than 10% of the milk is used. On the way back to Tarma, the Professor raised the question of culture vs. progress. For the 40 families that work for the cooperative, the butter is their pride. However, because it takes so long to make, the cooperative could substantially more economically successful if it decreased quality and increased quantity. Yet doing so would compromise their pride and culture. Development always has a cost, and its up to the locals to determine if its worth it.

Later we went to the Sunday market. Women sold fruits, vegetables, and potatoes of all varieties. Some vendors sold live chicks and others giant snails. The streets were inundated with people and goods. It was a colorful chaos. We spent the rest of the day driving to Pichanaki, a newly established town in the jungle (aka Amazon Rainforest). For the two nights we were there we ate pizza at a German restuarant... something I was not expecting.

The next day in Pichanaki, we visited a secondary school whose library was named after the Professor. There was a big reception for our group because of their respect for him and because he brought more books for the library. We were interviewed for a radio show and were said to be on the cover of the local newspaper the next day. Mira- gringas! We later talked to some of the 12th graders there, though most of them weren't interested. The younger kids were more fascinated by our visit and our American look. Indeed, everywhere we have gone we stand out like white polar bears in the jungle (Lost reference!). In fact, I'm actually tall here.

Next we took a mototaxi to Juan Carlos's farm. We had to cross a river in a ferry made of canoes nailed together with wood. When we arrived we were given cold coconuts to drink out of and later we were served a Quechuan feast that consisted of a tamal, yucca, chicken (that had been freshly "harvested"), three kinds of potatoes, and large beans. Juan Carlos then showed us his orange and banana farm. He recently started composting after hearing about it on a TV show about farming in Colombia. However, despite recent interest in organic farming, he assured us that it was a lie and impossible to make a profit off of in Peru. "Es una mentira como Coca Cola Lite." It is interesting how the developed world expects the developing world to have sustainable practices (which would be ideal by all means), but their process of development was not sustainable at all, and, in many cases, at the expense of the developing world.

On the way back to town, we saw two rainbows in the sky- perfectly fitting, as the rainbow was the symbol of the Incans.

We woke up at 4am the next day to leave for Lima. Even the trip back was an adventure. A mudslide in the road cost us 2 hours, though some were waiting for it to be cleared for 9 hours. We finally arrived back in Lima around 4pm yesterday. Now it's time to start a new day and a new adventure!

¡Qué paja!

I started this morning with a video chat with mi novio querido, Chris. Even though he had little sleep, he woke up early to talk to me. It was so comforting to see his face. :) I am so glad to have Wifi in my house, even though it wavers in and out. By the way, the house I'm living in is a narrow, two story condo (foto to the right). It's very beautiful, though different from what I expected. There is a tiny courtyard in the back used to dry clothes, along with a spiral staircase that attaches this condo with the one above, which belongs to Charo's sister. It's very cute, though more modern than other casas.

After breakfast (un cereal peruano) my host mama took me for a walk around our district of Lima, called Miraflores. She explained how the city has changed over the past few years, and how traditional houses are being replaced by tall, unfriendly buildings- undoubtedly a side effect of globalization and industrialization. Last night, Patricia (who works at Ruiz) told us the same story. Lima does indeed have the look of a torn city. On hand hand, there are beautiful, colorful houses with a garden courtyard in the middle. Por otro lado, there are tall buildings (but not skyscrapers) with a modern-industrial feel right next to them. Yet also, there are some protected pre-Columbian mud buildings (?) preserved throughout the city. However, these new complexes have no personality, and could belong to any city in the world.  I can only wonder what Peru looked like before these changes.

The best part of today was getting to meet our companeras, Peruvian students that will be our partners at Ruiz. But first we had to get to Ruiz, which is a story in itself. Bridgette and I met to take the orange bus an hour before the meeting. However, there are no timetables for the busses here.. they come when they come. And you know when they come because each bus has a person who's job is to hang outside the bus as its driving and yell the names of its stops. Somehow we managed to take the wrong orange bus (turns out there are four different orange lines.. not one like we thought) and ended up in the center of Lima. We eventually took a taxi to the university, and still managed to arrive on time. To the right is a picture from yesterday of the UVa group at Ruiz.

We ate lunch at Ruiz with our companeras, which consisted of a traditional potato dish (papas huancainas) and, interestingly, spaghetti. We talked for a few hours with our companeras, who are so friendly and kind! I'm still getting used to speaking in Spanish all of the time, so sometimes it's difficult to understand them, but they are very helpful. Mi companera is named Jennifer and she studies political science. We talked about classes, politics, los chicos, and other things. She's also studying English, so we are going to practice English too. She taught me some Peruvian slang, namely ¡Qué paja! (the title of this entry) which means, essentially how good/ cool/ pretty. I can't wait to get to know them better, and look forward to starting classes!

Well, that's all for now. We are meeting at six tomorrow to embark on a five day trip to Tarma and Pichunaki. We are going to visit an old hacienda, trek in the Andes for a day, and visit the jungle! I won't have computer access til then, but I should be able to text on my cell phone. Entonces.. hasta luego!

***

As I write these blog entries, I understand more and more why the imperfect tense in Spanish is so useful jaja.

Life in Lima

Day 1
Before arriving in Peru, I, along with the four other students studying abroad from my university, was tasked with writing a paper about my expectations for the trip. While on the plane, I found it difficult to concentrate on my assignment, instead thinking about how much I already missed my family and my boyfriend. I had no idea what to expect for the next five months and that baffled me. I now realize that is part of the excitement and adventure.

After a seven hour plane ride, we finally arrived in Lima where three representatives from our host university met us at the airport. Despite the fact that it was now two o'clock in the morning (and that we were supposed to have arrived 2 hours before) they were extremely friendly, happy, and eager to meet us. However, my first impression of Lima was a little disappointing- a dense fog covered the city and the streetlights only seemed to illuminate extensive graffiti and security fences.

They dropped us off with our host families by three in the morning, and I talked with my host mama for a bit before we went to bed. She explained that all Peruvians go by a nickname, and that she goes by Charo (short for Rosario). She immediately came off as an extremely generous, kind, and respectable person. One of her acquantinces from Bolivia is also living with us in the house while she looks for a job, and she may be hosting another foreign student that will be studying at a different university. Charro has already proven to be a great host, and I can only hope that my limited Spanish skills adequately convey my gratitude. 

Day 2

I woke up early the next day in order to get to the Universidad Ruiz Antonio de Montoya (Ruiz, as the locals call it) for orientation. Ruiz will be hosting me and three other students from UVA. My host mama showed me how to walk to the bus stop and what route to take to school. When we arrived, I was stunned by the beauty of the campus, tucked away in a compound in the middle of the city. There was a large courtyard with vibrant green trees, colorful flowers, and birds. All of the buildings were plaster and painted with a light coral color. Classes don't actually begin until March 14th, and we will be using the time until then to explore Lima. This Friday we leave to visit a hacienda and go trekking in Tarma and explore Pichunaki.

At night we went to Larcomar, a large outdoor mall on La Costa Verde, the cliff on the Pacific Ocean. We saw the sunset from the cliff, and it was absolutely astounding. My camera died after taking one picture, but here it is! You can vaguely make out the silhouette of a statue of kissing lovers. Unfortunately, pickpocketing is very common here, so I cannot bring my nice DSLR with me and I forgot the charger for my point and shoot at home. Thankfully, fellow UVa-ite Bridgette has the same camera and therefore the same charger! Ole!

After watching the sunset, we walked around the mall for a bit, and it felt like we had been transported back to America. As Bridgette observed in her blog, the mall was full of American stores and restaurants like Chili's and Starbucks, and the movie theater was strictly showing American films. We then went to Cafe Cafe for drinks before dinner, and we tried the national drink of Peru- pisco sour, a drink that tastes like an icy, sweet gin and tonic.

 Later we traveled a few blocks over to have the extremely popular chifa (Peruvian-Chinese food) with the other national drink of Peru, Inca Kola (which tastes like a combination of carbonated cough medicine and melted dum dums). Paco, one of the coordinators from Ruiz, informed us that Peru is the only country where a national soft drink (Inca Kola) outsells Coca Cola. Globalization for the loss! We then walked around the Miraflores area for a bit and passed by a few places I hope to explore later including a fair trade store, indie coffee shop call Arabica, plaza packed with homeless cats, and a beautiful colonial church. I'm so glad I have 5 months to spend here! :)