One of the sights that marks the day of Christmas Eve is that of people --often men-- carrying their turkeys to or from the bakery.
Peruvians have adopted the custom of eating turkey for the Christmas meal --which is had late on the night of Dec. 24th-- and many families have their own special recipes for the stuffing, which is usually made of a mixture of meats with dried fruit and seasonings. The one problem is that most Peruvian households have ovens barely large enough to bake a casserole, let alone a turkey.
So, in December commercial establishments put out their notices --"We bake turkeys"--- and people pay them to bake their turkeys in time for the festivities.
There are pretty much only two days when Lima --yes, pretty much the entire city-- comes almost to a standstill: Christmas Day and New Year's Day. I mean, not even on Sundays does the place get as quiet and still as it does on those two days.
In between them, however, are a few days of frenzied activity for vendors who have a short window of time in which to get sell their New Year's themed merchandise in preparation for the big night.
There are a number of traditions associated with New Year's Eve. For example, some people eat twelve grapes or olives at the stroke of midnight. Others walk around the block with an empty suitcase in hopes of traveling in the coming year. Others, taking note that the word for a square block - manzana- is the same as that for apple, take things a bit tongue-in-cheek and stay indoors and just walk their suitcase around an apple.
Yellow, or more accurately, gold, is the color associated with New Year's Eve. That means that, overnight after Christmas the street stalls and small shops, put away the multicolored swag and lights of Christmas, and everything turns yellow: yellow streamers, yellow table cloths and napkins, flowers, decorations, etc.
One of the things that most stands out is the astonishing amount of yellow underwear that appears as if by magic, as it is fortuitous to greet the New Year wearing new yellow underwear that has been received as a gift.
Where have all those yellow undies been during the rest of the year? I don't know, but given the sheer amount of it, it seems impossible that it could all be sold in the course of the one week between the two holidays.
On Friday, almost the entire family headed to the town of Chaclacayo, 27 kilometers east of Lima on the Central Highway. One of a strinng of small towns and cities along the lower reaches of the Rimac Valley, Chaclacayo was, until recently, a largely semi-rural community and, due to its proximity to Lima and drier, warmer climate, the site of numerous vacation homes for wealthier limenos and of country clubs.
In fact, most of memories of Chaclacayo are tied up with the Huampani country club, due to a number of school day trips there in the 1970s and occasional visits, including one multi-night stay, thanks to my mom's being a teacher and the military government then in power having turned Huampani over to the state teachers' union.
This time around, Jose and Willy located a large house in a secluded gated neighborhood, which we rented for the weekend. With nine bedrooms plus a TV room, a barbecue grill, swimming pool, and a kitchen appointed with the basics, it fit all twenty-nine of us nicely, and we spent a leisurely weekend chatting, joking, eating grilled meats and vegetables, and playing in the pool.
Airline tickets have been purchased for December. We'll be spending our first Christmas in Peru as a family, and Liz and I will be having our first Christmas there since 1987 and our first New Year's Eve there since 1991. Besides, it's been several years since either of the kids have been there.
On our second day in Piura we took a mototaxi ride into Mancora.
Mancora is a fishing village that has turned into a tourist destination thanks to the nearby beaches and surfing spots. Consequently, Mancora has turned into a bit of a tourist trap, with the main drag, along the Panamerican Highway, and the beachfront being lined with stalls hawking souvenirs and cheap bathing suits, and restaurants/drinking joints of dubious quality and salubriousness.
The community, nonetheless, has managed to keep hold of its fishing roots, and on the weekend we were in the area it was celebrating the Feast of Saint Peter, patron of fisherfolk.
As we strolled the beachfront looking for a place to eat -we were seeking some seco de chabelo, a regional dish- the townsfolk were holding a children's egg-in-the-spoon race on the beach while a small band belted out tunes.
The beachfront gazebo was crumbling, having clearly been undermined by waves at some not too distant past. There was a sign warning people that it was not a suitable place for entertainment as it was too dangerous. Of course that did not stop the band and emcee from setting up shop there, nor anyone else for that matter.
Eventually we ended our search for seco de chabelo at La Sirena de Juanchi, a restaurant on the main street, with really ecclectic and fun decor, run by a lady from Lima who came to Mancora for a one-month stay nine years ago.
They did not serve seco de chabelo, but we did have some other really good food, including a tuna tiradito with balsamic vinegar.
Early Saturday morning, Liz and I flew north to Piura to spend a few days on one of the north coast's famed beaches. We stayed at a resort that had been recommended by my cousin, the Vichayito Bungalows y Carpas, at Vichayito beach in the Piura district of Los Organos.
Los Organos is a two and a half hour drive from the Piura airport, something that wasn't made clear on the resort's website, nor was it made clear that their "airport pick-up service" is not complimentary, but must be paid for by the guest. The going rate of 250 soles for the ride, which must be paid to the driver in cash, can leave one with nasty sticker shock surprise --in our case, the transportation from and to the Piura airport cost as much as our accommodations!- which is not at all a great way to start off one's vacation.
In any case, we determined to shake off the unpleasantness and enjoy ourselves, even though it was ten in the morning and we could not get into our room until three that afternoon (even though the literature in the room itself said that check-in was at 1 pm), so walked down the steps and onto the beach, where we spent some nice moments observing the waves, and watching boobies and frigate birds soar overhead, and whales spout and dive offshore, before heading up for lunch.
Last year, we were told, there were only ten days on which the sun did not shine. We happened to arrive on one such day for this year. Not only was Saturday overcast, it was quite windy - making it kind of rough on the few souls who gamely did their best to enjoy the beach they had come all this way to be at (we fared a bit better, since we were still fully clothed).
Sunday, despite an illusory promise early on, clouded right up by breakfast and, although not as windy, proved much the same. There is a local folk belief that when the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, which land close together, are celebrated, it either clouds up or rains. As it happened, Saturday was the Feast of Saint Peter (Day of the Fisherman).
On Monday, however -our last day- we arose to patches of blue in the sky, which cleared up a brilliant, sunny day by the end of breakfast. We were thus finally able to break out our bathing suits and play in the surf, Liz took the opportunity to go out on a sea kayak, during which trip she got to observe sea birds and a flying fish. And, of course, we did what one expects to do at a beach resort: lounge in the sun, drinking pina coladas on the sands. (In fact we got so sunburnt in our three hours on the beach on Monday, that we were kind of relieved that we didn't have three full days of such sun!)
All in all, it was three days well-spent in utter relaxation in a beautiful locale.
Another one.
This time it's about the custom of takanakuy.
In the province of Chumbivilcas, in the Cuzco region, Christmas is celebrated with partying, drinking, fireworks -like in the rest of Peru. What makes chumbivilcano Christmas different is the takanakuy, which is a festival of ritualized hand-to-hand combat.
Fights are one-on-one bareknuckled fistfights accompanied by huaylia music, and all strata in the community take part -men, women, young, and old. Even kids. Through the takanakuy grudges are settles, stress is released,
community harmony is retained, and the Earth is repaid for her bounty
through the fighters' sacrifice.
In this video, the host, Thomas, travels to Chumbivilcas to witness and participate in the takanakuy.
We arrived in Ayacucho on the evening of the 27th of July, and as we all were starving we headed to the restaurant nextdoor to the house, the Wallpa Sua, for some pollo a la brasa. We kicked off the evening with some toddies and after dinner continued with more drinks around the firepit in the restaurant's patio, while fireworks went off overhead.
Afterward, some of us went off to keep it going, while others headed off to bed. At the park across from Santo Domingo church we happened to run into members of the tuna from the university's Civil Engineering program. A tuna is a musical ensemble in the tradition of 17th century Spain. Tunantes dress in archaic clothes and play for donations. The university of Huamanga has a well-known and prestigious tuna, and these young people were following in that tradition. In exchange for some wine and an appreciative audience, they played for us for several hours.
I didn't take the camera, but I did happen to find a video of the tuna that includes some of the very same members whom we met:
The next day, on July 28th proper, we hired a bus to take the whole gang to Quinua and Wari.
Quinua
Quinua is a small town 37 km NE of Huamanga at 3300 meters. On 9 December 1824 it was the site of the final fight for the liberation of South America from Spanish colonial rule, the Battle of Ayacucho.
On the morning of the battle, the Spanish army under Gen. Canterac, some 8,000 strong and armed with 14 cannon, arrayed on the slopes beyond the plain, called the Pampa de la Quinua, while the multinational liberation army composed largely of Colombian, Chilean, Argentine, and Peruvian troops, headed by Gen. José de Sucre, lined up on the pampa itself. Though outnumbered by 3000 men and with only one cannon, the independence army carried the day.
In 1974, for the 150th anniversary of the battle a monument was erected on the pampa. It is 44 meters high to signify the 44-year struggle for independence, and bears statues of the commanders of the independence army. The site is a popular tourist destination, and offers some great views of the region, including the distant city of Huamanga.
Today, Quinua itself is a quiet little town and is well-known for its pottery and as a good place to eat traditional foods. One of its distinctive features is the local custom of placing small ceramic churches or other effigies atop the houses.
Wari
Between Quinua and Huamanga, lies the archaeological site of Wari (aka Huari). Wari was a large city, the capital of a state and culture that spread from Ayacucho to dominate the central and southern Peruvian Andes between 800 and 1100 CE. Today the city lies in ruins, mostly underground, and what is visible is a vast rubble field from collapsing walls, along with literally millions of pottery shards littering the ground.
When I was a kid we'd spend the day wandering among the cacti, picking up shards and hunting for arrowheads and turquoise, some of which was carved into beads by the Wari a thousand years ago. Today such activities are forbidden and access is limited.
Excavations have revealed complex ceremonial structures and even sophisticated plumbing systems made of carefully-shaped stone conduits.
While my dad showed my cousin Carla's in-laws around, my mom and I just took the opportunity to wander a bit and to look back on our days there so many years ago and enjoy the beauty of the place.
On Sunday after eating a very nice lunch at Urpicha, a restaurant I shall talk about later, we went to Huascaura, a small town on the hill above Huamanga on the western side, for the bullfights held there every Independence Day holiday.
We arrived late but in time to catch the last five bulls of the day.
Near our building there is a small state-run preschool and kindergarten. Dan, Cristy, Sara, and I all attended it. It was abit smaller then, but since they grabbed up a public play space and sitting area (that round thing at the end) in 1991 they have been able to add a few more classrooms.
The building creeps Susana out because it has electrified wire running along the top to keep out thieves, and at night, when it is quieter, one can hear the wire making popping sounds as the electricity passes through it. I can understand the need for it for the building's roof would be very easy to get onto - I know, I used to climb it as a child.
Friday was the last day of school here before winter break, and as Independence Day is coming up on July 28th, the kindergarten had a parade, complete with a brass band.
Inside the school itself, after the parade, there was an opportunity to view projects that the students had colored for the occasion:
This image depicts José de San Martín, an Argentine general who crossed the Andes at the head of a liberation army, after helping free Argentina from Spanish colonial rule. After fighting in Chile, he moved the army north to Peru. Legend has it that while resting near the bay of Paracas, he saw a flock of flamingoes overhead and was given inspiration for the colors of the Peruvian flag by the birds' coloration.
San Martín proclaiming Peru's independece in the town of Huaura, on November 17th, 1820.
A second, more definitive, proclamation would late be made in Lima on July 28th, 1821.
