Of Sheep's Heads and Fat Thieves...

On Monday we had our supervisor David Tirado, from Lima here, along with Bryan Michaelis from Family Search in Salt Lake City, Utah and a contract worker Edgar?? from Puno, Peru. We had a nice visit, learned some new things and fortunately for us, one of the problems we’ve been having with the computer program happened while all of them were here. They had never seen anything like it, for some reason the program wouldn’t let us take images. We (rather they) spent a lot of time talking with Salt Lake trying to figure out what the problem was.  At long last they got the program working again, fingers crossed that it keeps working!

We’re getting more confident taking the images.  We just got our latest audit report and we have to redo 1 volume out of 16, so we feel pretty good about that.

Rich started his Quechua classes. He goes on Tuesday and Thursday this week. He enjoyed it and it’s fun to understand what some of the signs mean around Cusco. Rich taught the Book of Mormon Institute class Tuesday night, he does a great job and it is so wonderful to hear it in Spanish and be with the members here.

Rich tried to find restaurant that our friend Jorge told him about. They serve “Caldo de Cabeza” (Sheep’s Head Soup) and only in the mornings for breakfast. He didn’t have any luck finding the restaurant, so on Wednesday; we looked for it during lunch. We didn’t find it but found another location of our favorite ceviche place and had that for lunch. It’s always delicious!

It started raining Wednesday night and continued all day Thursday. It is cold and wet here. Rich finally found the restaurant on Thursday without Julie. See the photo. Weird, but he sometimes just gets this hankering for the grossly unspeakable.

On Saturday, we attended an art show of the local art school. It involved booths and demonstrations of all of their activities. Masses of people showed up. Later in the day we went to a party where Julie and I are taking language classes, Spanish and Quechua.  Being German oriented, they served the best bratwurst, locally made by a guy who calls himself Engineer Pedro. I had not thought of sausages being, “Engineered” but I guess it must be a German thing. Anyway, they were awesome!

We got there under very cloudy skies and not long after it got underway, the sky was fairly split asunder by a flash of lightning and deafening thunder. It had sprinkled a little before, but the skies opened up. What a storm. It had been a long time since we had experienced such fury.

Today, we went to Izcuchaca and had safe travels. On our way home however, our driver told the passenger in the back of the station wagon to lie down. We could not figure out what was happening until we saw the motorcycle cop coming up the road. Though they may not respect the authority, they seem to at least fear the new traffic laws. Part way to safe driving…

Once back from Izcuchaca we had an invite to a baptism of the daughter of a friend. We showed up at 4pm when we had been told it would start. Stupid us! We waited for an hour and a half before they got underway. Still it was a very nice occasion.

 

One of the new things in Peru has been the adoption of Halloween customs. Before, they celebrated the Day of The Dead by going to the cemetery, leaving little food and drink offerings for their ancestors. While at the cemetery, they would also have a little lunch with their dearly departed, well, in their presence, so-to-speak. This, they did on November First. I am sure some still do this but now, there are Halloweeny things in the stores and TV has all of the nasty scary movies that we have but with bad Spanish dubbing.

 On the Halloween note, many years ago, we heard of a strange belief among the mountain people. Rich asked his counselor about a rumor that gringos came here to steal children for their fat...  He affirmed that this was true and not just children and that not all gringos were guilty. Over the years the story only got better. We came to refer to these suet bandits as fat vampires. Sort of the Peruvian version of the Mexican, Chupa Cabra, and the stories even made it into such news feeds as Reuters and the BBC.

 

The counselor told us about his father whose business involved travel between Chivay and Espinar.  He ran herds of llamas carrying chuñu (freeze dried potatoes), dried corn and charqui (dried meat) to trade for fruit.  One of his work associates was reputed to be a “fat man.”  He was involved in the same work and once upon arrival in Chivay, he was offered a drugged herbal tea.  When he came to his senses, he realized that his belly had been slit open.  Upon a review by a doctor he was told that his suet had been removed.  This was the first of the stories of the Pishtacos, suet dealers. 

Next he told how his dad explained that ever after hearing the story he always slept with his arms folded across his abdomen.  He told this in absolute seriousness emphasizing by folding his arms in a protective posture.

The story is quite complete and even includes an economic aspect according to the legend; these alleged suet thugs steal the fat with intent to sell it to Germans or to North Americans.  They explain that this grand market for human lard is generated by a need to lubricate, “their” machinery. When Rich asked what kind of machines, the answer returned, “Special…”

Over the years we have heard many versions of this story always with different levels of conviction. Several years ago, Rich went to Huancavelica, the poorest of the Peruvian departments to look at some exemplary social projects run by an arm of Catholic social services. During the visit while being chauffeured around by one of the young engineers there, Rich could not help but notice the gape-jawed stares he got, especially from some of the women walking along the road. There are not many bald gringos that wander around Huancavelica.

When the engineer realized that Rich noticed the glances, he asked, “Where you are working, do many folks think you are a Pishtaco?”

Rich responded, “To my knowledge, no one thinks that.”

The engineer said, “Well, they do here…”

This legend has strengthened the lack of trust of white people, especially non-Spanish or Quechua speaking ones.  There is no question that it hearkens back to the period of Spanish oppression and atrocities. The suspicion is that we are here to steal children for their fat and the language inability amplifies the lack of trust.  The counselor also told Rich that these Pishtaco stories are used to frighten children in classic “Little Orphan Annie” or boogey man fashion.  “If you don’t eat your chuñu or your quinoa, the Pishtaco will get you…”

Anyway, at my suggestion that this is a legend, another friend took immediate umbrage.  She said it is not a legend, and while it “does not happen here, in Espinar, it does when some people go to Cuzco.  They come back with a hole in their chest and their suet is missing.”  She went on to tell how they are really never quite the same after having this done to them, saying, “they are always a little on the sickly side ever after having their fat stolen.” It kind of made me think of Joan Rivers and some of the other face lifts I have seen on Hollywood greats lately.

She then told Rich that this is related to another practice that goes on…supposedly.   When an especially bright person dies from natural causes and has been healthy, it is the practice to take a piece of their muscle from them.  This is then cut up into small, bite sized chunks, and cooked up in a soup.  Those who are involved then eat this soup, and it makes them smarter because the intelligence of the departed one is passed on through the soup.  She told me that she knows that this works because she personally knows young people who have done this before going off to University from here and who have done well. Anyway, Happy Halloween!

Saturday Morning Bus Station Gang

Sheep's Head Soup

Street Bread Dealer

The Boys In Blue, school boys near our work

School boys at the art exhibit

Peruvian Charros?

Herb Dealer on the Street

A Campesina at the Art  Show

Sculptor in the Art Show

Traditional Ceramics Demonstration

The Language School Party



No Trains, No Planes, Just Automobiles and Police Roadblocks

Last Sunday, full of confidence we took a taxi to the “terminal” at Arco Pata for our trip to Izcuchaca. It began to rain when we made our way uphill and was raining heavily by the time we arrived at the “terminal” with nary a car in sight heading to Izcuchaca! We waited in the rain with about 30 other people and soon a little station wagon began to pull in to the muddy parking area. While the driver was trying to back in, people were grabbing the doors and opening the back trying to get in. Miraculously no one was run over, the car doors slammed shut and off they went!

While we stood their incredulously shaking our heads, someone yelled “Izcuchaca” and we took off running with the rest of the pack, like we’d been doing this our whole lives. We pushed and shoved with the best of them and Rich was able to get the front door of the big van open and had a look that dared anyone to try and push him out of the way! He got a lot of dirty looks for holding on to the door, but we had our seats! Julie climbed into the middle next to the driver and Rich hopped in and slammed the door shut. We never did figure out exactly how many people were behind us in the van but we guesstimated about 15.  The defrost never works in most of the cars here, partly because they all put these quilted covers over the dashboards, covering up the vents. Consequently, the driver kept his window part way down and rain came in on the people in the back.  He had to keep wiping the windshield with a cloth or toilet paper, whatever he had handy.

Thank goodness for prayers because we arrived safe and sound in time for our meetings and had a great Sunday with the sweet members in Izcuchaca.  The ride home was much less “interesting” because we rode home with Brother Cotrina who is in charge of the Seminaries and Institutes in the Cusco area, the defrost and heat worked! What a treat!

Julie took another week of Spanish Classes; she is even picking up a little German because all the people taking classes at the Spanish/German school are German and speak German during the breaks! It takes some practice to be able to understand Spanish spoken by German speaking students. Julie is getting more confident and is speaking much more easily every day. She really enjoys it and will try and take a week of Spanish every month. Rich starts his Quechua classes on Tuesday of this week.

On Wednesday after class, Julie made her way down to the government offices to go to work. As she was walking she noticed several groups of women walking near the market that did not look like Cusquenas (Very different gene pool). She was trying to figure out where they had come from when she came down the hill and saw a big protest going on in front of the government building. At least 20 policemen in riot gear with their riot shields up blocked the street, surrounded the protestors and stood in front of the locked iron gates where Julie needed to go.

During all this, Rich worked away inside and there was no way to communicate. Julie talked to one of the policeman and found out that the protesters were teachers and parents from districts in the jungle. They were demanding that the government comply with their promises to help better the schools and education there.  We had to agree with the protestors’ frustration and irritation with the government. It is so HARD to get things done here. The protestors were very calm and well mannered, but the gates were not going to be opened so Julie could get in to work. Finally, she saw Rich at the bottom of the parking area under the building and established that all was well. Julie went home and Rich was able to get out shortly thereafter. Just another day in Peru!

On a lighter note, we were able to watch Leah’s soccer game live at BYU-I on the computer! What a marvel of technology that we can sit here in Cusco, Peru, and watch Leah play a soccer game in Rexburg, Idaho. It was so fun to watch #13, Julie kept shouting, “there she is, and she looks so cute!” It was a great to see Leah in action.

During our walks each day where we climb the Amargura stairs, we decided to check the altitude at the top. Rich took along his GPS approximately calibrated to our home, and checked it at the top of the stairs. That point is actually about 11500 feet above sea level. Cusco actually lies between about 10,600 and 12,000 feet in the nearby hills.

While Rich was taking photos from the top of the stairs, an elderly man began to wave Rich over to his plot of land. Upon entering the door through the wall, he found a virtual dump of old bottles, kettles, and boxes and other junk. At first we thought he lived there with his four dogs but later he explained that he just hangs out there and calls it an agricultural area. Very hearing impaired, he plants sunflowers and corn in the meager terrain that he controls. His name is Nemesio and his land though perched on a precipitous knob, presents an awesome view of the city. Rich called him, “The Watchman of Cusco.” He laughed at that.

Nemesio

La vista del Mirador Nemesio or the view from Nemesio's Point

Nemesio's shelter

One of the great things in Peru is the abundance of good tailors and wonderful textiles. It is likely not that well known outside of the country. We found a fine tailor here in Cusco and he made Rich a beautiful grey wool suit and a couple of pairs of blue jeans for Julie. The custom made suit cost $142US. Pretty amazing!

This Sunday we went to Curahuasi, well, we took the taxi there on Saturday evening since the meetings there have changed to a meeting time of 8am. We just took off on Saturday afternoon and went to the “Terminal,” for the Curahuasi cars (These were Toyota Sedans called Yaris). This looked as much like a terminal as the place we leave from for Izcuchaca. Guys came charging up to us when we arrived proposing various options for transport and calling us Papa and Mama all the while. We piled into a car with two other passengers and a real live trunk to load our backpacks into. We took backpacks since we knew that we would need to walk up to the hostal.

On our way, we got pulled over twice by the police, one a regular traffic check but the second just crossing the river into the Apurimac region was a drug check. They had the driver open the trunk to make sure it was not full of crack… All of this delayed our arrival in Curahuasi. Then the driver, a nice young guy who drove very carefully, offered to drive us the few blocks to the hostal. Happily, we found room at the inn and indeed, the very same room we stayed in the last time we stayed over there.

There was a big bash going on in the plaza in celebration of the arrival of some big tractors to help renovate the pueblo. Music bellowed down the street but we were too tired to run up there and see what the fuss was all about. We saw the  decorations in the morning though.

Ready to leave our hostal room

Curahuasi Plaza

Julie marching up to the chapel in Curahuasi

Curahuasi chapel

Curahuasi hostal

Since we ran up against the rolling up sidewalks the last time, we shot out to eat dinner. Another Peruvian thing is the national version of fast food. Peruvians have a special relationship with chicken. Virtually, every little town has a polleria, that sells pollo a la brasa (Carbon broiled chicken) that they serve with the best French fries in the world and a soup called aguadito, chicken extra parts and rice soup. Some are great and some not so wonderful. This one may have been the best we have ever had! The place was spotless though a little corgy sort of a dog sat most attentively at our feet through the whole meal.

A young family entered and they really are not used to seeing white devils in this part of the world, especially not bald ones. This family had three very well behaved and cute little boys. Though the mother demanded that they not stare, they were incapable of not turning to gape and stare at the bald man at our table. We laughed and told her to take a powder, that we, as parents and grandparents have been stared at before. She calmed down and the boys soon became much more consumed with the wonderful fare.

On Sunday, we tried to check out and called for the hostal owner. She was in the shower and spoke to us through the transom telling us to leave the money on the counter. It made us laugh on our way to the church.

In our meeting, Julie had just sat down to play the organ for the Sacrament hymn when the First Counselor began to announce the speakers among who was Julie. We had gone not expecting to speak, for some fool reason… The look on her face was pretty hilarious but, the trooper that she is, she gave a great talk but that was the end of her pre-written talks. After meetings we talked with the president and established that yes, he expects us to speak every time. We returned home late-ish on Sunday afternoon but got there without event.

Curs defending their homefront

A cool, puma head fountain

A cool old door



A really secure, very blue door...

Ely, Peru, who knew? For any who don't know, we lived many years in Ely, Nevada.

A really hard way to get hay to the cows

Holidays, Marches and Quechua

We really enjoyed staying put in Cusco last weekend and loved listening to the LDS General Conference. We attended all but one of the sessions at church so we heard it in Spanish. After the morning session on Sunday the rain and hail hit with a vengeance so we stayed home and were able to watch the last session in English on the computer.  We are always a little sad when it’s over but have enjoyed listening to the talks again as we work in the archives.

Monday and Tuesday were holidays remembering the Battle of Angamos.  Here’s a little history lesson: The Battle of Angamos was fought on October 8, 1879, during the naval stage of the War of the Pacific. The Chilean Navy, commanded by Captain Galvarino Riveros and Captain Juan Jose Latorre surrounded and captured the Peruvian ironclad Huáscar, commanded by Rear Admiral Miguel Grau Seminario, who died heroically in combat. After the battle, the crippled Peruvian Navy was unable to prevent the invasion of its territory. The decisive victory at Angamos allowed the Chilean Army to freely decide the course of action to attack the Allies, and the land invasion of Peru and Bolivia began.

Peru and Bolivia still have hard feelings over this battle, especially Bolivia because the Chileans took their seaport and they are now land-locked and one of the poorest countries in South America because of it.  Every city in Peru has a Miguel Grau street, statue or park. The days were marked with parades, speeches and lots of happy, legitimately truant, school kids roaming the streets.  Since we couldn’t work, we relaxed, enjoyed walking around town and tried to ignore the constant barrage of firecrackers!

There is usually something interesting going on in the “Plaza de Armas,” the big central plaza in Cusco. It has two big catholic churches and is very pretty.  The Plaza has changed a bit since we were here five years ago. There is now a Starbucks, McDonald’s and KFC! Happily, they are housed in beautiful old colonial buildings so they are not obtrusive in any way to the Plaza.  We go to Starbuck’s to download books on our Nooks because they have Wi-Fi and really good hot chocolate. We haven’t been to McDonald’s or KFC because the Peruvian food is SO MUCH BETTER! The police now prohibit any car that is over 5 years old from entering the Plaza. They want to keep it nice looking for the tourists.  That really eliminates a huge number of cars around the Plaza, so you can actually cross the streets and walk without too much fear for your life. Pedestrians technically have the right-of-way, but no one, not even the police obey that law. You really have to be on your toes when you cross the streets and of course no one uses turn signals so it’s a total guessing game when there is traffic coming in all directions! It’s always an adventure when we go out!

Along with Aymara and a host of indigenous jungle  languages, Peru has two recognized, official languages: Spanish and Quechua. Quechua is a spoken language and therefore spelling of it engenders a kind of linguistic schizophrenia and much debate. Further, the Quechua spoken in Cusco is different from that spoken in Huaraz, which differs from that spoken in Ayacucho, which differs from that spoken in Ecuador and that from Bolivia etc. The word for water is Onu or Unu in some areas and Yaku in others, for  example. Anyway, Cusqueños figure that theirs is the only true language and the same goes for those in Quito, Ecuador, both of these being the two capitals of the Inca Empire. You get the picture. We have seen Cusco spelled: Cuzco, Qosco, Quosco, Qusoqo, Cusco and so on. The other day, we noticed that the  street name Huayna Ccapac, on street signs, spelled three different ways in two blocks, revealing older to newest iterations of the spelling. Small wonder tourists cluster around with maps trying to find their way to their various destinations.


Another little history lesson - Cusco was founded about 1100 AD and the Inca ruled from the 13th century to about 1532 AD. A lot of the buildings are from that era and are literally trying to fall down. There are wooden posts propping up walls all over town and we try to avoid them whenever possible! We have also found many streets to avoid in an earthquake because of the precarious rock walls that line them.

Cusco is also very hilly so we walk up or down regardless of where we are going. San Francisco has nothing on this place… We walk every morning up to the center and into another plaza then make our way to the steps on Amargura Street (Bitterness). The steps are killer but Julie is feeling much better about her ascent as the school kids go slowly and are out of breath at the top too! We’re both getting faster and it is a definite feeling of accomplishment when we reach the top!


Little girls with halos and wings marching in the plaza

What do you think is wrong with this picture?

This menu stands outside of a little restaurant that we do not frequent. We thought you might enjoy seeing a few delicacies not commonly found in North American breakfast menus.
From top to somewhere around the middle we read:
Canchino Flavor
Offers
Sheep's Head Soup (Sheep is understood)
in the mornings

• Tongue
• Eye
• Ear
• Hoof
• Stomach

Breakfasts
 

Choclo con Queso - Yum!



Many Cusquenos like to dress their dogs up in little jackets  and sweat suits on brisk mornings.

Dog with tusks in camo

Peruvians have the practice of referring to the half-liter sized soft drinks as, “Personal,” drinks. As a result the latest Coca Cola campaign has taken advantage of this expression, putting personal names on each of their full-test Cokes. We liked this in honor of our eldest daughter.

School Kids on their way to school up the Amargura road steps

Wanchaq fruit market

Also, though we have mentioned this before, we include the photo of Aywamanto fruit complete with their little husks for those interested in such things. They taste a little like cherry flavored cranberries with the little seeds inside.

Previously mentioned car names...

Tourist fashion sense?

Izcuchaca On Our Own...

Last Sunday was an adventurous day for us. We left our apartment about 7am and took a taxi to the “Arco Pata Terminal” in the Santiago district of Cusco. “Terminal” is used very loosely since it was a side street with some small station wagons parked along it. We found our ride to Izucuchaca there. There was someone already in the front seat of the car and a campesino women sitting in the middle of the back seat. Rich sat on one side of her and Julie on the other. Then the driver opened the back of the car and two more people climbed in, sitting, facing out the back of the wagon. We were off in less than 5 minutes. Of course the seatbelts didn’t work, so we hung on and were grateful for our prayers we said before we left.  We climbed over the mountains out of Cusco and down the other side to Izcuchaca, about 30 minutes away.  The driver dropped us off at the plaza and had about 30 minutes to enjoy the activities going on around us and to feel the luscious Cusqueño sun on us. It was great!

We were in Izcuchaca for a leadership training session before Sacrament Meeting. We were supposed to begin at 9am, but finally got started at 9:15am with the missionaries assigned there, the Primary President and two newly baptized women who didn’t have a calling yet. About 9:30am the Relief Society President arrived and at 9:45 the Family Group President showed up. In the end we had a great meeting but it sure is frustrating to get people where they need to be on time! The regular Sunday meetings were wonderful and we enjoyed our time with the members.

To get home we had to walk to the third streetlight on the main street and somewhere along there we would hear drivers calling out “Cusco!” We never did hear anyone shouting anything and finally Rich asked a man inside a garage where to find the cars back to Cusco. The man said, “Right here, but there are no more cars!” His car was full so he took off. Happily, seconds later, another car pulled in and we jumped in to claim our seats! Four more people joined us and we arrived back in Cusco at the “terminal” safe, and somewhat sound, in a downpour.  Just another Sunday here!
Tuesday while Julie was working in the Government Building she heard continuous whistles and shouting.  The big metal gates were all closed and locked to prevent anyone from entering and as she watched from behind the safety of the gates, the guard told her that the medical workers were marching and protesting again. They want better pay and working conditions. They have been on strike off and on since we arrived in July.
On Thursday, there was another march with shouting, whistles and locked gates. This time, it was the illegal miners protesting that the government wants them to pay taxes!  The NGO efforts to limit mining have succeeded in driving out many of the “Evil Foreign Companies.” Previously these companies have paid a huge bond to reclaim disturbed lands that they mined off of, should they fail to do it themselves. They paid large royalties, under Peruvian and international laws. They paid for the land they mined from either in outright purchases or with royalties to the land owners and hired most of their labor from the local people paying legal taxes all supervised by the Peruvian government.
Their ouster has opened the way for local miners to get out there and mine the easy to get to mineral, mostly in the Amazon Basin where they use hydraulic mining methods to wash gold from the muds. This destabilizes the banks and washes huge volumes of the jungle away. They also use mercury to get at the gold contaminating these waters. They are completely uncontrolled and, they protest the government’s efforts to tax their ill-gotten gains.  Sorry for the soapbox..
We saw one fail this week. The windshield of a taxi bore the words “Jesus Diving.” We suspect that it meant, “Driving,” but it still lacked sense unless the driver’s name was Jesus, but then, who cares? Speaking of drivers, we were in a taxi that got rear ended at a complete stop on our way to the opening session of General Conference. We felt badly for the driver, a nice kid with a nice new car filled with stuffed Shar Pei doggies. He was obviously dismayed and we had to get out and find another taxi while he did battle with the truck driver.


Julie has begun walking up to work with me and then goes home to get ready for work in the mornings. We are finally really adjusted to the altitude and manage our six or seven miles a day and feel better for it. One of the cool things is wandering around the streets with the array of strange Quechua names. There is Wayrurupata (Quechua for "the place where they grew wayruru potatoes.") There is a lane called Qhoña (meaning mucus) but our favorite this week is Amargura (Bitterness), just look at the stairs we climbed!

Since we realized it is autumn at home and we are missing the green chili crop, we began reflecting upon some of the things we miss. Huge jars of peanut butter and chewing gum are among the chief absences. Oh, and we miss New Mexican cuisine and barbecue. However, we fully realize that when we were in the states we missed the fruit (granadilla,(passion fruit), chirimoya, sauco, aywamanto, figs, papaya, etc.) and vegetables that we have come to love here. We missed Peruvain Yogurt, the best in the world. We missed the huge brazil nuts and the choclo con queso. In all, it is a pretty straight trade.
We make new friends and meet old ones and we are thrilled to be in the capital of the Inca Empire, every day. We are blessed to have plenty to do and we are having more fun than we think we ought to. We get to feeling a little bit guilty from time to time. If you are wondering whether or not you should go on a mission, just do it!

Not exactly a Fail, just a mystifying title... Lord of Earthquakes Savings and Loan!

Locutorio - By the minute cell phone rental lady...

Eggs, Bacon, fried Banana, Peruvian Olives and Sauco Jam on Toast for breakfast! Yum!

All Girl Marching Band

Elderly Woman near the main plaza

Leche de Pantera, (Panther's Milk) Ceviche of Black Scallops Juice

Mandarinas, Granadilla (open), Chirimoya (on the bottom) and Lucuma

Chirimoya, also called custard fruit