Day 68: Crazy Peruvians on the train or why we love Peru
Priya Ramani -
Thursday, June 19, 2008 5:47 AM
This is probably how an advertisement for Peru Rail would read: Wanted cabin attendants. Must have experience in service industry. Must be well-groomed. Must know folk dances and have previous ramp experience.
Today, on the train back from Machu Picchu, after the three employees of Peru Rail had finished serving us weary travellers an airplane-style evening snack, one of them slipped into a regional costume and did a folk dance up and down the aisle. Once the song and dance was over, recorded commentary explained its origin. Then the female attendant hopped into the toilet, slipped out of her prim navy waistcoat and jacket (see photo, above), shook loose her tightly pulled back waves, came out in a gorgeous deep red Alpaca poncho and proceeded to walk the aisle to fashion show music (sorry the camera battery was dead and we couldn´t find a point to recharge it) . While the briefly stunned passengers hooted and cheered, her male colleague did his own quick change operation. And thus began a fashion show on the railcar.
(Photo, below: the railcar to Machu Picchu just before we boarded at a town called Ollantaytambo)
This is just another example of the cheerful, go-with-the-flow attitude of most Peruvians. Despite or maybe because of the harsh, bare terrain Peruvians grow up in, nothing seems to faze them easily. They rarely leave their smiles at home. They love their beer, whether it´s the lovely branded golden lager Cusqueña or the home-fermented corn beer Chicha (those Pisco Sours are for tourists). If you´re ever driving through the Andes, look for the houses with red flags. It means they brew Chicha and will be happy to pour you a giant glass of it. When we stopped at one house, we encountered a nursing mother and a grandmother drinking king-size glasses of the strong country stuff.
Peruvians party at the drop of a hat and you´re more than likely to encounter a fiesta in one of the towns you pass through. Be warned, a fiesta usually involves active high-altitude dancing to tunes that never end along with shots of some lethal drink. One tourist told us about the party she encountered at a village that was celebrating the coming of electricity.
They have music in their blood. Maybe that´s because they learnt to dance and singalong to their folk songs at an early age. In Cusco we´ve seen hordes of children practising their dances, probably for the Festival of the Sun two days from now. They´re proud of their local traditions and culture and are happy to display them at the slightest move of the sun/moon. The Peruvian guides we´ve encountered have been of uniformly high quality, well read and acutely aware of what they lost when the Spaniards attacked the existing Inca culture and religion in the 1500s.
But most of the hard-working locals are remarkably free of any rancour against the Spanish. Some part of that may be their lack of written history. Whatever, they don´t dwell too much on past glory and how it disappeared. What happens, happens. We found one answer in a translated folk song in Aguas Calientes.
Where did the Incas go?
When their time came to an end, they came to an end.
That´s how it must have been then,
so that they would come to an end,
in the time of judgement