A Day in the Middle of Nowhere (Choquecancha to be precise)

9:30pm Sunday July 17, 2011

The way I’m spending my time in Peru is much more heymish (homey) than the way most other people do.  Most people come to Peru for Machu Picchu and Cusco and then leave.  By spending several weeks in this non-touristy area of Peru, I am having a more authentic Peruvian experience.

Today, for example, I went with my friend Willie (an indigenous Peruvian who grew up in the mountains and recently converted to Judaism) to his childhood home of Choquecancha in the sierra.  It was a very Latin American experience–he, two brothers, and I squished in the front seats of an old truck riding on an unpaved mountainous one-lane road for two hour. It felt like a scene out of a movie.  The only thing missing was smuggled drugs.

 The people in these remote villages often live without running water, elecricity, or refrigeration.  They live a simple life of waking up, farming, and going to bed.

This family raised cuy (guinea pigs) to eat and to sell, in order to make a living.

Willie and I then went on a hike in which he would show me everything awesome about living in the wilderness.  First, we found some coca leaves to chew. Coca leaves have been chewed for hundreds of years as a social tradition in Andean culture.  It helps you adjust to high altitudes, leaves your mouth numb temporarily (but isn’t dangerous), has some minerals, and is highly illegal to import to the USA, as it can be manufactured into cocaine.

 

Willie then showed me how to pick granadilla (passion fruit) from trees using bamboo-like sticks. These fruits were tangy and sweet – amazing.

In explaining why many of the less educated indigenous Peruvians of the mountains were scared of me, Willie told me the legend of Pishtaco. A long time ago, a white Spaniard came to the mountains and raped many women.  That incident spurred legends of white men taking advantage of the indigenous folk and eating them.  That’s the reason, according to Willie, that many of the poor inhabitants of the mountains are afraid to talk to me.

On the way back from the mountains, Willie’s brothers tell me that several of the indigenous families said that they wanted me to stay in their community as a “padrillo” (a stallion especially used for breeding).  The reason– they want my blue eyes, because, for indigenous Peruvians, blue eyes are a rarity and are sought after.  Essentially they wanted me to stay and mate with many women so their kids would have blue eyes. I have three things to say about that: 1) It seems like the complete opposite of the idea of Pishtaco so I’m confused. 2) I’m pretty sure blue eyes are genetically recessive so their kids almost certainly wouldn’t have blue eyes. and 3) No thank you.

 

The views during the hike back from Choquecancha were awe-inspiring.