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.