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...