Friday, August 27: Fiestas Patrias
Ramiro didn’t tell me I had to be at breakfast at a set time, so I wandered downstairs around 9:00. I met a healing arts man and two anthropologists. After breakfast I went back upstairs and sat on the balcony soaking up the sun (foolishly without sunblock) writing postcards. Suddenly, I heard marching band music. I knew there was a holiday coming up—Fiestas Patrias, the Peruvian equivalent of Fourth of July, a two-day celebration of the liberation of Peru from Spain by Simon Bolivar and San Martin. That wasn’t supposed to start until the 28th, though. It seems they were celebrating early. Perhaps since the 28th and 29th were on a Saturday and Sunday this year, they were taking Friday as a day off to celebrate. Edgar, one of the two servants at the guesthouse, had mentioned that there would be a parade at 11:00 am. But it was only 10:30.
After I finished my postcards, I walked out of the guesthouse and a block down the street towards the sound of the music. It was coming from a school with children in uniform standing outside.
Not seeing anything of note, I walked back up the “Street of Heroes” lined with statues of military heroes, then cut over to El Sol and walked towards Plaza de Las Armas. Parade spectators were already lining the sidewalks of El Sol. Military groups were lining up. Hawkers were selling red and white ribbons representing the colors of the Peruvian flag.
When I made it to the main square, I saw a sight I’ll never forget. There was a sea of people and music and military groups. There was a palpable energy in the air as the crowds started getting ready for the parade. I saw few military groups march into the sea of people.
For reasons I’m not sure of now, I turned away from the parade. Maybe I was tired or it seemed like the action had stopped. I ended up walking to a plazoleta (little plaza) where the culinary school of Cuzco was having a tasting. For 3 soles a dish, you could sample generous portions of gourmet food—lamb, seafood, drinks, and more. For some reason, I was drawn to the simple but delicious causa cusqueno. Causa looks like a layered sheet cake, but it’s savory. It’s made with a layer of mashed yellow potatoes topped with a layer of chicken and mayonnaise, then another layer of mashed yellow potatoes, and spices. It was served with a side of onions and a red pepper sauce. It was delicious. I wanted to try more, but I was still a bit full from breakfast and didn’t want to press my luck.
I wandered the streets of Cuzco, occasionally seeing more groups of soldiers marching down the street yelling their squad drill chants. I was surprised to see a section of Cusco with hotels and restaurants bearing signs in English and Hebrew. Was there a Jewish population in Cusco? Or merely an attempt to cater to Peruvian visitors from Israel? I would have to ask my relatives when I got back to the States.
I came back to the guesthouse in the afternoon and took a nap. Then I went out again to try to walk to San Blas. I got so turned around, though, I ended up at the train station. The man pushing a cart of keys (a locksmith, perhaps) who gave me directions and then kept trying to get a conversation going wasn’t much help.
I finally walked two blocks away from the train station (so I wouldn’t get a taxi at a train station price) and hailed a 3-soles taxi to San Blas. I chose to eat at Pachipapa, a tourist restaurant on the square. I went through a door to get in, but ended up in an open-air courtyard with dark-stained wooden tables, heaters, and a stone hearth woodburning oven. I couldn’t bring myself to eat guinea pig, and not just because of thoughts of the several guinea pigs my cousins had for pets. Instead, I opted for the whole grilled trout. It was delicious, and worth the 25 soles. I also got brave and had a glass of chardonnay with it.
For dessert, I ordered a dish that I thought would be made from the orange-cream colored yogurt concoction that is served at breakfast in Peru and which I had in ice-cream form in Rumichaca. However, I had confused the name. What I got was more like rice pudding, but the rice was the consistency of couscous. Only the slight cinnamon taste made it palatable for me.
I stayed a few extra minutes soaking up the atmosphere of the restaurant. Then I walked down the hill to the Plaza de las Armas and saw a concert by a group of students from a local high school. I presume it was part of Fiestas Patrias as well. I soaked up this last bit of Peruvian culture, and went back to my hotel room to sleep.
Tags: Cuzco, Food, Peru, Travel
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