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