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HERE! HAVE SOME PISCO. IT WILL RELAX YOU!

We drove for several hours in a convoy of four-wheel drive vehicles on narrow and winding dirt paths – a sheer cliff rising to the left and a sharp drop just off the right tire.  We were in the mountains in the Huancavelica province of Peru, in altitudes ranging from of 3,700 meters (@12,140 feet) above sea level to up to 5,000 meters in the highest mountains.  Cold, treeless and rocky terrain; thin oxygen that had several travelers sucking on portable tanks from time-to-time.  (Me?  I was a heavy smoker at the time, so my lungs were used to having less oxygen.J) 

 We were in a hurry, as our destination was still in front of us and it was getting on into the afternoon.  We had been delayed by a long spoken mayor in an earlier stop, who insisted that we wait while they went out to pull a poor indigent man and boy off the streets so that we could present them with some blankets.  Protests on our part did not let us avoid the awkward moment. Our plans (our only alternative, actually) were to try to get to our final destination and make the return trip, before dark, back to the provincial capital and our lodgings.

The group was programmed to visit a rural village where the organization I worked for – Lutheran World Relief – had supported local women in the development of vegetable gardens with gravity fed irrigation systems.  Given the lateness of the hour (we were supposed to get there shortly after noon), we decided that we would have to arrive in the village, go right to the garden plots, tell everybody what a wonderful job they were doing in the least amount of time possible while not being rude, and head back on the treacherous roads so that we could return before nightfall.



It was not to be.

As we rounded the last curve in the mountains and descended into the village at around three in the afternoon, we found the ENTIRE population (probably about 800 men, women and children) assembled in the town square, a bright hand-painted banner with “Welcome Visitors!” over a wooden raised platform.  There had been no way to communicate while traveling to tell them of our delay, so they had been hanging around the village square for at least three hours.  The mayor and other village leaders were on the platform.  Among the villagers were several dance and music troupes, ready to perform for us as we were led to folding chairs.  A group of older women came dancing toward us, each holding a bottle of Pisco (grape brandy) and a small glass, pouring for each of us in turn.  Following local custom, we first spilled a little of the drink on the ground, thanking the gods for the growth of the grapes from which it was made.






A local man, dressed in traditional costume played music on a long stemmed horn that looked like something from the Swiss Alps.  Other acts were performed.  Finally, a group of schoolchildren began an intricate dance to music played over loudspeakers.  Sitting on the dais, we glanced nervously at our watches as the afternoon light began to fade and we contemplated travel on those narrow roads after dark.  While the children were going through their LONG and complicated routine that they obviously had been practicing for a while, the mayor, sensing our concern about the time, made a subtle signal and the music for the dance was stopped.  The children, in mid-step, let their disappointment and indignation show – they had practiced so hard!- and there was no recourse but to resume the music and let them finish.



We hastily made our goodbyes, thanking as many of the villagers as possible for the more than hospitable welcome, congratulating them, telling them that yes, we would return one day (yes, I know – the good-intentioned lies that one tells.) and loaded into the vehicles.  We made it back to the city, in the dark, with only a few harrowing moments as we came upon an occasional herd of llama or a villager walking along the road that would inch past us on the upside of the road.  (I was driving one of the vehicles.  You can bet that I had a few tense muscles when we arrived).

All in the name of development!

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