For better or worse, cursing in my family has never really been a big deal. I remember on one visit to Peru, Tio Lucho would bark offending words out the window, maniacally swerving past cars in his old Volkswagen. He used to come in that car to pick us and our luggage up from the airport. I think most of the time I was one of two people in someone’s lap.
Anyway, one of my most vivid memories from childhood is when I went on a ride with Lucho and he got so mad at one driver that cut him off that he stuck a cupped hand out the window, shook it in the air and shouted “huevón!” at the top of his lungs.
Back in the U.S., I rode the school bus and in my efforts to be “cool”, I would teach my friends curse words in Spanish. Consequently, every trip to Peru was an opportunity to pick up new vocabulary. Hearing this new word, huevón, was very interesting. I was fascinated by the way in which he had delivered it too. Up until then, I only knew carajo (damn/dammit) and mierda (s__t)* and those were just shouted with emphasis on the middle syllable if you really wanted to make a point.
I don’t remember repeating the word on that trip but I definitely taught it to the other kids on the bus. When they asked me what it meant, I realized I didn’t know. “I think it means a__hole” I said, making sure that the curse word rolled off my tongue easily.
I went on living life like that for a while, thinking that huevón meant a-hole until I finally asked my parents. Dad laughed when I asked. With a gleam in his eye and a cupped hand in the air, he answered my question. “Huevón means big balls.”
I don’t know if I blushed or not, but I was probably pretty embarrassed when I found out its true meaning. Looking back on it now, I don’t know why it would have since one associated body part is not that far away from the other.
This is a long and only mildly relevant introduction to what I actually did today so I will attempt to get to the point.
We were on the road to Mancora by 6:15AM and got to watch some of the sunrise over the strangely flat desert on the way. As we were leaving, the car alarm would honk once, as if it was protesting about being woken up to early in the morning. Each honk would prompt a carajo out of Lucho and each time I would laugh like a little kid still giddy about curse words.
About 45 minutes in, we made a stop for gas in Sullana and then continued. The landscape is very dry here right now since Peru is being affected by the La Niña cycle. Lucho said that there hasn’t been rain in months and the ocean water is cold. The route itself is kind of strange and is completely dictated by where there is currently a functional road and not by where there should be a road. I suppose that speaks for most routes in most countries, but this diversion is particularly time consuming because of the lack of alternative. To travel to Mancora from Colán, we actually have to travel inland first for 45 minutes or so and then continue north, climbing through these big and strangely beautiful mountains that look like they are made of sand but are in fact made of clay. Then you go back down again and you’re pretty much there. The topography itself shows the millions of years of history between water and land and even recent natural disasters have left lasting marks. In the late 90s, El Niño brought heavy rains for months and essentially created rivers where they hadn’t been any for years and years. You can still see where roads were washed away and rebuilt a few yards over on more solid ground and where bridges were built where plain old road would no longer suffice. But it’s all dry now and the algorobina trees and other native plants look sad for lack of water. Lucho and Jose say they are expecting rain in the next month or so and as soon as that happens, it will be green everywhere again.
Our drive did take us into a very fertile area which looked like paradise in comparison to the rest of the surroundings. Piura has some amazing farmland and a great deal of closely monitored organic product is grown and exported from this area. The Chira River (el rio Chira) flows through a big valley, right next to Sullana which sits on top of a hill, and the valley covers several hundred acres of land. The locals here created a reservoir, Poechos, sourced by the Chira, and use the reservoir for irrigation systems that flow to the various parcels of land. On the road we saw banana trees, mango trees, sugar cane and lots of other healthy vegetation.
Most of the route is on the PanAmerican Highway, so we had to go through a toll in Talara (a pueblo along the highway). We paid the 7.50 (in soles) and then just as we were leaving the toll booth we saw a group of people in orange traffic vests with clipboards. One gestured that we pull over so Lucho made a quick stop as she rushed over to the driver’s side window. I don’t know the exact translation, but she essentially requested license and registration. My uncle, familiar with the Peruvian bureaucratic system and impatient as ever to get to Mancora asked, “Is this going to take long?” The woman raised her eyes up from the clipboard. “Si me das una propina, pueden irse.” Lucho handed her two soles and off we went.
“Did that just happen?” I asked, stunned. Whatever it is she was hired to do with the clipboard was obviously not particularly important since a 2 soles tip (which is barely $1 in U.S. currency) was enough for her to let us off the hook. I knew that the system here worked like that, but I had never really seen it in action…at least not recently. Even my parents were shaking their heads in disbelief, but we were all laughing. Just one of those things, I suppose. Us Americans don’t always appreciate how comparatively non-corrupt our systems are.
After Talara, we passed Cabo Blanco, the fishing town where Ernest Hemingway wrote one of his books, and then started on the winding road into the mountains. At this point, it’s natural to think that you’ll come right back down but when we hit the top, it ended up being a big plateau. It wasn’t long until we were descending into the Los Organos though, one of the many pueblos before Mancora. Los Organos (The Organs) got its name because apparently when the wind picks up, it sounds like an organ. It looks like a town that once had a significant population of people. There are lots of houses that at one point must have been lovely and there is even a pretty malecón (boardwalk) along the water. The boardwalk had lots of graffiti and, aside from some lazy looking people milling about, appeared to be void of activity. The streets were still in great condition though and the center of town was bustling.
Past Los Organos we went through a couple other smaller, poorer towns, made another ascent up to a second plateau and then quickly came down again into Mancora. Thankfully Lucho knew his way around the area while greatly helped our cause to find breakfast. We made a sharp left turn towards the hotel area and trudged along a dirt road with barely enough room for two cars. To our left on a hill/cliff were some more houses under construction and to our right, a drop down to beach and ocean. Having heard the stories of the El Niño floods the entire ride, my first impression was that someone made a big mistake building in an area that appears susceptible to landslides. We made our first stop at Casa de Playa, a hotel my tio Wieland (Dad’s brother) frequents. At that point it was easy to see the appeal of Mancora. We walked through a doorway leading down to a restaurant and my eyes fell on the beautiful ocean in the background. Palm trees and gardens were thoughtfully planted and there was a leisurely air about the place. My family has been raving about Mancora for years now and despite the long trek to get there, I was glad we came to explore.
After a “light” breakfast (eggs with ham and cheese…mmm) we went to the shopping area of Mancora. The heat at that point was totally oppressive and I kept looking for opportunities to cool off in the shade. I was also riddled with mosquito bites from the past couple days in Colán and couldn’t stop itching. I wandered around for a bit with my parents and then eventually went with each of them on a hunt for anti-itch stuff. I was praying I would find something like the Benadryl anti-itch spray that I have at home...that stuff is amazing. Dad ended up finding a gel that does the job so I slathered that and anti-infection cream all over my legs. More interesting purchases included a great sun hat that I could wear to the Kentucky Derby. I also found a pretty long necklace made with beads and shells and a pair of earrings.
The rest of the afternoon was spent at another local hotel that Lucho likes. Las Pocitas had the same ambiance as Casa de Playa but with a seemingly more luxurious feel. I felt like quite the dame in my new hat, bright orange pareo and swim suit. Mom and Lucho went for a long walk on the beach while the rest of us hung out and read by the pool. The hotel had wi-fi and Dad had brought his Mac Airbook along so we popped that open and had a go-round of email checking. I sent Doug a hello text through Google Voice and he ultimately responded back with “Snow Day tomorrow!” Apparently it was going to snow a lot in Boston.We had a late lunch (I ordered palta relleno – stuffed avocado) and finished the meal with a delicious dessert of panqueque de manjar blanco. Anyone who has eaten my Mom’s alfajores (the cookies with the caramel-like substance in the middle topped with brown sugar) – just imagine that caramelized condensed milk in a pancake instead of cookies…and drizzled with chocolate on top. Yum.
Before it was time to head back to Colán, I went for a walk with Dad down the beach to see las casas de lujo and picked up a few keepsake shells along the way.
The car ride back was the same route we had taken to get to Mancora in the first place, so there was really nothing new to see. Lucho drove like a maniac though, scaring even my parents a bit who are used to the Lima-style of driving. We even got pulled over by a police officer (sort of – they were stopping a bunch of cars to do spot checks…not sure why) and the police officer’s first comment was “mucho velocidad, Señor.” Lucho replied, a little too smartly, with something akin to “If I had been going that fast, I wouldn’t have been able to stop as quickly as you wanted me to.” Another thing that’s different from the U.S…here in Peru people sass the hell out of police officers, or any government officials, until they become too exasperated to continue with you anymore (that’s not entirely true, but the sassing definitely happens, as evidenced by my dear uncle).
*I don’t know how many minors are reading this blog since everyone is now connected to the World Wide Web…so I’ll spare myself backlash from parents and leave the rest of the letters to your experienced imagination.
January 12, 2011
Today was one of our last lazy days here. I woke up early (again) and used the time to read and check email before the sun was higher. My Mom wasn’t feeling well…something she ate yesterday at Las Pocitas was not sitting well with her so she spent most of the morning nursing that. Travis and Alyssa did a couple of quadrimoto rides, including one with Ursula and Jose to these big sand dunes north of here. Dad and I took a long ride toward a beach north of here that was beautiful but sort of scary too. It just felt so desolate and even the ride over made you feel like you were alone in the world. But it was peaceful at the same time. What a mixed bag of feelings it can generate. What made me most sad though of all was seeing rotting corpses of dolphins, sea lions and fish…seriously. For some reason, these animals had washed up on shore and had been unsuccessful in their attempts to get in...or there was some kind of chemical in the water that had killed them. It was so sad to see then wasting away like that. The smell certainly wasn’t pleasant either. It was nice to venture around with Dad though and near the end of our trip we stumbled upon 5 flamingoes just chillin’ in the little lakes near the end of the populated area. I’ve never seen flamingoes in the wild and I was taken aback by how majestic they were….and how out of place they seemed. Pink birds in the middle of the desert. Weird.As the afternoon was coming to a close we got news of the snow on the ground in the Northeast. Holy moly 2 feet of snow! My little red Kia is currently a snow bank (that is unless a really nice someone dug it out for me…)
We wrapped up the day at Colán Lodge for dinner, another nice hotel complex near the new part of Colán. I had a hankering for lomo saltado. It was good, but not as good as tio Wieland’s.
We got back from that a little while ago, I have slathered anti-itch on myself and I’m passing out.
January 13, 2011
Hooray 27.
Last day in Colán. The Kafka family (and Travis) heads back to Lima tomorrow morning for the weekend and then Alyssa and Travis leave for the States early morning Sunday. Crazy!
Reading and enjoying the sun. Nos vemos esta fin de semana! Thanks to all of you that have sent emails and Facebook messages for my birthday. :)
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