Oh! You Can't Get There From Here...

Rich ordered a new nativity for our home in Peru. These beautiful wooden nativities come from Lima. As a result, we went through the process of ordering it by phone and then arranged to pay for it in the Peruvian fashion where one deposits it into their bank account. The company sent an email with the information that the nativity had been shipped and they sent the banking numbers so that we could pay for it.

On Monday, Rich went to pay for the nativity and had the long-forgotten Peruvian banking experience. This goes as follows: you go into the bank where you stand in line at a small kiosk to get a “position in line,” all very modern… Your name appears on one of three screens with a number beside it. The screens are: 1) those with an account, 2) those with no account yet, and 3) the elderly, disabled etc. One by one, names at the top of the lists get funneled into one of two smaller, color-coded screens above the master lists. Supposedly the lower lists feed into the upper list unless you are especially elderly, incapacitated or somebody’s friend.

When your name finally shows up on the upper screens you go around behind the screens to a place with two, large color coded dots, the same colors as the screens. You simply cannot believe how many people cannot figure out that they should go to the corresponding color. There is a moderator who keeps an eye on the flow, calls out names and generally plays hall monitor. Once through the barrier, you wait until one of two tellers calls your name and you go to the window with your banking need. Let’s see who can spell “bottleneck.”

Well, the lists of names that feed into the select-o-screens never dropped below fifty and often exceeded eighty people long. The Mongol hoards at the gates of Vienna could not have looked more daunting than a Peruvian bank on any afternoon…Waiting through this process one has either to observe the mechanics of the process or the people and that involves reading the names, obviously. One can opt to alleviate the waiting time in mind numbing TV programming. The bank runs repeating, inane and annoying Canadian humor programs that if you count how often they loop you realize just how long you have been there. It is impossible not to despair at various points in the process and one gains a true appreciation for geologic time.

In Rich’s case, the first attempt at running the gauntlet resulted in his discovery that he did not have all of the information necessary and he had to run home to get it. He then went back to the bank where he waited again through the process only to have the new teller inform him that the numbers he had been given by the supplier were for inter-banking. That is to say, the transaction could only be done from another bank! $#&^$*%!

So, he decided to go pick up the package, sent via bus from Lima. First, Rich went to the bus station and to the Cruz Del Sur desk. First question, “Can I pick up a package here?”

Of course the answer was, “No. That is at our terminal.” Cruz Del Sur is the big dog on the bus block here so its terminal had to be big... There is a main bus terminal hub but other dealings of the various bus lines are at other locations around town. The main terminal has a ten meter deep, sheer-walled, stone-lined ditch that is often churning with sludgy, unwholesome smelling and looking fluid. It nearly fills during the rainy season but is obviously impossible to cross alive in any season.

“Where is that terminal?”

“Oh, it is just a block away in the Bancopata neighborhood. You just go up to the Pachacutec statue and turn left.” Turn left was her code for, “Ask directions,” since there are three streets that lead out of the oval to the left.

Rich knew it had to be tougher than she said…He walked up the street and found a man washing a car. “Where is Bancopata?”

He pointed to a street with his chin.

Rich walked in that direction but, no sign of a bus terminal.

About three blocks up the street he finally ducked into a bakery and asked where to find Cruz Del Sur. The woman pointed behind her and said, back there.

Two blocks behind the bakery he checked in at an abarrotes (corner grocery) store and the woman said, “Just down the street, abajito (down there a little).”

Finally he arrived at the bus station. Indeed it was just a block or so away from the main terminal but just across the thirty-plus foot deep drainage ditch/tiger trap/River Styx

/! Once in there, he stood in two lines to pick up the package. While he stood there he had that old sick, sinking feeling that his only form of identification included a New Mexico and a Peruvian driver’s license and a New Mexico Concealed Carry permit.  We still don’t have our visas yet… Regardless, he finally talked the guy into accepting the driver’s licenses and a phony ID number. Phew.

Once Rich got the right banking number, he went back and paid the fee. Huzzah, victory! But wait, once home, he realized that the shipper left out the shipping fee. So, on Saturday, he went back up town, this time to a remote banking agent, little shops, as we learned in the  process that avoid the bank. Yet, the agent could not make the transaction because their worker who knows the bank code left for the day and did not tell them the code…so….

We decided it was time to make a trip out to the new mall here in Cusco. It was supposed to be finished by Christmas but that isn’t going to happen, surprise, surprise! There are a few stores open for business though, so it was fun to walk through the Home Depot-like store and the new Plaza Vea, which is a huge Chilean chain grocery store/home goods place.  The mall will have lots of nice stores (including a department store, Oechsle and as advertised, Cusco’s best surf shop…) and a cinema complex. Everyone is excited about this because there is no movie theater anywhere in Cusco. As far as we know, there never has been one here.  The highlight of the mall though was watching the people trying to use the escalator! For the majority of the people here this is the first time they have encountered such a thing. There were guards stationed at the bottom and tops of the escalators to help people on and off and we had a grand time watching the variety of people trying to get on the moving steps. We saw many try and try and eventually walk away, someday maybe they’ll make it up to the second floor! It was a surreal experience to see men and women in their native dress with their bundles on their backs making their way through the flashy stores. It was a fascinating and fun afternoon for sure.

On Saturday we made our way to a small bus station here in Cusco, bought our tickets and jumped on the bus that goes directly to Sicuani about 3 hours away. Once in Sicuani we dashed inside the station to buy another ticket on another bus to go to Espinar. While in Sicuani, we became quite the entertainment for the Peruvians. We really felt like foreigners. A bald white man in a suit and his wife in a skirt with an umbrella! Boy did we get stared at!!  It was quite the adventure in the pouring rain!  Most of the highway is paved now which cut nearly 2 hours off the trip we used to make back and forth to Cusco. Though, we never made it in public transportation before. We could not help thinking how horrified our kids would be had they seen us on and off of these busses.

At one point on our way to Espinar, the bus conductor got up to take our ticket stubs. She explained that for her baby who was on her back, the company let her sell candy and do a little show for donations. She had her back to us, in the front of the bus. Then she began to play a rasping rhythm instruments (guiro or rascador) and she had a lovely voice. She sang the traditional songs called Huayno or Wayno and pronounced, “Wino.” It was beautiful and touching and all in Quechua. We hear a lot of that here.

We had Pollo a la Brasa in El Pollon #1, our favorite Polleria in Espinar with friends that we knew when we lived there. It was a great evening. We stayed in the Plaza Hotel, (definitely nothing like the Plaza Hotel in NYC!)However, for Espinar it’s really plush. They now have an elevator so we didn’t have to hike up narrow steep steps to the fifth floor with our bags. That was great, at 14,000 feet you need all the air you can get!

On Sunday we attended church there and had a wonderful time visiting with old friends and meeting new members. The primary did their program which was wonderful. There were over 35 that participated and Julie was amazed. She was in charge of the first primary ever in Espinar with about 8 children in all. It was exciting to see that the members are still strong and active and that the ward is growing. After church we were there for another hour because everyone wanted pictures with us. It was delightful to visit and be with these wonderful people who played such a big part in our lives there.

One family invited us to their house because the husband had to work but wanted to see us. This was a young man who had come with his nephew, to church for nearly a year before the missionaries were allowed to baptize him and his nephew. Once they were baptized the rest of his seven brothers and sisters joined the church. One sister, Isabel had a little girl that she had “adopted.” The little girl had been abandoned by her birth mother and Isabel took her. No legal adoption ever happened, as far as we knew. So, Isabel, not married and about eighteen years old took her in.

We walked to Luis’ house with his wife Vanesa, and two beautiful young women, Luis’ nieces.  The girls told us all of the news about town and asked about Megan and Leah. One is fifteen and the other seventeen. At the house, we asked about the family. Imagine our surprise when they told us that the beautiful, seventeen year old, was Isabel’s little, abandoned girl, Maria Isabel! We were pretty overwhelmed with emotion at this. She told us that when she finishes school in a year, she will go on a mission.

We finally left Espinar about 4pm, made the transfer in Sicuani where again we were a popular attraction and made it safely back to Cusco and into our apartment by 9:30pm. We were pretty wiped out but happy. What great memories we have!

Our Nativity

Cusco With a Storm Rolling In... Every Day...

A Study In Canine Stubornness. Not Movin'"!

A Visit From The Laucatas



Crawfish Graveyard... Restaurant El Paisa, Cusco

restaurant El Pollon #1, Espinar With Puri Pila Paco and her daughter and niece.

Grimaldo Lupo, my former couselor

Grimaldo with his 87 year old mother Belen, also the oldest member in Espinar, in every respect...

Elizabeth Pari, Left and her daughter in law, Rosa Luz Carrasco

Bishop Julio Flores and his family

Nativity in Luis and Vanessa's home

Luis Quispe with his wife, a niece and a nephew in their home.

In Luis' home with Josep and Maria Isabel