Cajamarca continued

Can I please start this post by saying that the internet place is blasting 50cent, and I cannot help but giggle about the skinny Peruvian boy unknowingly blasting music about ganstas and hos. Another note: I´ve posted a lot in the past week or so, so you might want to scroll through and make sure you´re up to date ;)

Also, I wanted to note that I do read all the comments even though--disculpe me--I didn´t respond to them earlier. I´d love it if this could be a place for discussion should people choose (I´m looking at you Anne White´s spanish class ;-) ), and I know Markie volunteered to post an updated map of where I am in the comments section ...eventually.

Where do I begin? I´m in love with this old city. It´s been conquered, mined (for gold), used as a post for revolutionaries like Simon Bolivar against the Spanish, a home to the Incas with preserved hot spring stone baths, stone "chairs," and trails leading all the way to Cuzco, as well it was a battle ground during the war with Chile. Now it`s known for its cows who come when called by name, as well as its fabulous cheese and manjar blanco. Like all the towns, it has a plaza de armas, which is sort of the town center. The streets are windy, hilly, and made out of stone with lots of stairs, and the town is graced with several stunning Baroque churches.

My favorite part of the town is the mercado (the market) where you can buy literally anything you desire, from shoe insoles made out of local leather, to underware that says ¨stripper,¨to a live lizard, wheels of cheese, baskets of bread, school supplies, herbal medicine, fresh squeezed juice, or the regional favorite--fried guinea pig. One of the best things is that you can buy any number of things in any amount, for example I bought 6 clothes pins the other day. And the food in the streets is absolutely phenomenal. Not only is there a crazy variety due to Peru´s biological and cultural diversity, but it´s a fascinating experience every time. It´s wonderful to me that you can be high up in the mountains, yet be drinking a fairly local papaya, pineapple, and banana smoothie, because the jungle is next door. Similarly, they´ve got fresh seafood everywhere.

The challenge for me here with food (other than comsuming too much of it), is definitely the meat...In my pictures, which I am happy to say I finally have uploaded (see link below), there is a picture of a plate of food I was served...it is literally the most meat I have ever seen on one plate in my entire life...and I come from a midwestern Catholic family who loves their meat. You have to check it out. The other problem is the vast amout of carbs they serve in one meal. The big meal is at lunch around 2pm, and after you´ve been starving after your measly breakfast of crackers and coffee six hours ago, you wolf down the pile of rice and potatoes (present at every meal, and if you´re lucky another starchy thing like crackers, platanos, or yucca). Then you pass out, because it´s all your body can do to digest and overcome the inevitable blood sugar crash following. The big meal also consists of two courses, the entrada, which is usually soup, and then the main course of some kind of meat and the aforementioned mountain of starch, and is often accompanied by fresh juice. Then your last meal of the day is around 9pm, which again does not sit well for me...but I must say, it´s incredible how adaptable and intelligent the human body is.

Additionally, I find myself hanging around the food stalls, which is probably my 2nd favorite task, because it´s just too fun. People are always surprised by my presence and ask me all sorts of questions. It´s a fabulous experience standing around in the street, sharing your drink or snack with the other people taking a break in their day, and watching the bustling around you. My favorite treat is definitely the warm drinks--either of Quinoa (a grain), maca (a jungle herb), or a special ¨emolient¨ made of aloe, alfalfa, honey, linseed, limon, bitters, and potentially other things. Some of the things I tend to grab to eat are cachanga--fried dough stuffed with cheese; any array of pastries filled with carmely manjar blanco; these little speckly eggs that the vendor peels, sprinkles with salt and puts in a plastic bag with a tooth pick; and chancha--Peruvian popcorn, which is kind of like corn-nuts. It´s no wonder there´s a verb in Spanish that literally means to get fat or fatten up: engordar.

Drinking an emolient

Special note for when you´re out and about: bring toilet paper, because nowhere has it, and be prepared to squat...and throw your TP in the trash. None of this is new to me, living in Bali for a summer (as well as other places...in fact, I feel like outside the US, it´s pretty common that the plumbing can´t handle TP). Because of the tp in the trash, the bathrooms have an unmistakable smell of yuck, but at least most of the toilets flush via handle and you don´t have to pour a bucket of water in the bowl!

On to family time! Family is very important here. Every Sunday the family goes out to eat together, sometimes just the immediate family, sometimes with a mixing of siblings, brother or sister-in-laws, aunts, uncles, cousins etc. It´s amazing to me too that when they go out at night, it´s always with family. We went to a festival last weekend, which will be it´s own blog entry eventually, and it was with all various family members. I was amazed there were no friends in the group, and especially that the 15 year old didn´t go with her friends or bring any along. That doesn´t really happen in the US. Sure we get together with our families to celebrate holidays and other things, but for the most part we go out with our own friends. Also on a semi-related note, you always always always greet people here: one kiss on the right cheek between girls and girls and guys, and handshakes between men. The handshake has sort of died out in the US, unless you are meeting someone for the first time, and even then, especially with the younger crowd, it´s often not used anymore. I have to say I enjoy the intimate greetings, but I still haven´t figured out whether I´m suppossed to kiss my ¨dad¨on the mouth or not...it kind of seems like that´s what is done in this particular family, but it´s hard to tell, haha, so every single time we greet each other, it´s a tad awkward. Oh well.

Well here they are, my photos, as well as another link for Rachel Sandler´s photos who was with me in Iquitos: and if you have trouble viewing them, email me, and I will give you my password if you promise not to order a bunch of pictures :)http://www2.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=238727511/a=43035390_43035390/t_=43035390
http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=758301220135526518/l=418895881/g=14174425/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB
Also, here´s a fabulous video of Patch Adams, in the airport coming back from Iquitos (in english!) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1kRywcN_4wM&feature=related

besos y mas besos, Rachel