Tourism Celebration

Well, yesterday was quite an exciting day of Cusquenian shenanigans. To start off, I did about two months of laundry (well, by did, I mean, put it in a bag and took

it to the laundry place—I need to pick it up today). Anyways, that is a diversion from my point of Cusquenian Shenanigans.

Amanda had previously promised some Israeli boys that she had met a couple days before that we would meet them in the plaza at 6. So, being the good wifey that I am (she has begun to call me this—probably because I am the cook of the house) I accompanied her to the plaza. We met up with the boys, had some drinks at Cross Keys (a bar where we have developed quite an affinity for the bartenders and hence it is always happy hour there for us—more on this later). In any case, we had some nice drinks with the Israelis and then pared ways. Aw, right, I have forgotten the craziness that is Cusco. So, when we arrived a bit early in the plaza (as per usual for me), there was a quite a set up there: a stage, a giant float, and people dressed in what I can only assume were ritualistic Incan costumes. When we arrived the people in traditional and ritual clothing were doing a march/dance around the plaza. The most interesting by far were the people in rainbow clothes with amazing masks dancing and occasional running up and scaring people. We found out from our amazing Spanish translation skills of the banners (that people were very bad at holding) that yesterday was what I will deep “Tourism Day”, a celebration of the maintenance of Cusquenian culture through tourism. So after walking around the plaza for a bit we met up with our Israelis and went to Cross Keys. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you heard that part already.

Ok, so. Where was I. Oh yes, after some drinks the Israelis went home to their hostel and Amanda and I found a quaint little restaurant to eat some food at. We ate. It was wonderful. We were full. We were tired. We were going to go home. But then! When we arrived back in the plaza, the party was in full force. There was now a band on the big stage that had been set up, and people milling around everywhere. So we walked around for a bit, and then found a bench to people watch on. Amanda decided that it had been quite a while since we had spent some time with our friend Randi (a girl, nay, lady) from the TEFL program who is now living in Cusco (more about Randi later). So Randi met us in the square and we found a nice café where we could watch the party but also catch up on the drama of the last few weeks. Randi is a much older lady (well for me at least, I think she is in her mid 50’s) and she has lately been getting involved in some amazing projects in Cusco. I really would like to get involved in some of her endeavors, but as of now am not quite sure how to (again, more on that later…maybe).

So we caught up, gossiped, and had a merry old time. Then it was bed time. Alas, I had promised Amanda that I would partake in a night of debauchery with her since her previous partner of debauchery has departed back to South Africa. Now, a promise of a night debauchery with me is a big deal, since the most I tend to go to bed around 1, and if someone forces me to stay out later, my past history has shown that I tend to find a nice couch in whatever disco we are at and take a pleasant nap. In any case, a promise is a promise right? So, Randi went home, and Amanda and I went to….where else? Cross keys!

Now, Amanda proceeded to drink many a happy hour drink, flirt with the bartender and become new bff’s with the lady bartender, Rose. Amanda’s affinity for Cross Keys is based a bit on her previous flirtation/fling with one of the bartenders, Jorge. So Amanda drank and batted her eyes, and I sat and rejected the flirtations of the other bartender, Christian. Christian has developed quite a crush on me in the last two days, and like usual with me and men, he is only more intrigued by me as I constantly and blatantly reject him. So we sit and we sit and we sit. The bartenders have promised us some fun times once they close the bar (around 2:30 or 3) so we sit some more. Amanda gets all the gossip about Jorge from Rose, and I proceed to take a nap with my head on the bar counter (I promised Amanda I would stay out, I did not promise I would stay awake).

So, 3:00 finally rolls around and we follow Jorge, Rose and Christian to what can only be deemed The Dreadlock Bar. Now, up until now I have not seen very many people in Cusco with dreadlocks, apparently because they have all been in this bar. At this point, I was in a bad mood, Amanda was determined to have a talk with Jorge about their “status”, Jorge was determined not to have a talk with Amanda about their “status”, the Dreadlock Bar was packed with people, and my Fear of Crowded Places was increasing by the minute. So I stood outside and waited for Amanda to finish her “talk”, Death Glare in hand, er, on my face. No one even dared come near me.

So, Amanda emerges from Dreadlock Bar, a look of desperation on her face. Like I said, Jorge was determined not to have this talk that she so badly wanted to have. And man was she pissed. And loud about it. Anyone who approached her (I still had the death glare so no one dared approach me) would get a question followed by a diatribe thrown at them. The first question being “are you Peruvian?” (answer: yes), Diatribe: “Te odio! Odio los peruanos! Odios los chicos peruanos! Dejame en paz!” (I hate you! I hate Peruvians! I hate Peruvian boys! Leave me in peace!). So, the good wifey that I am, I asked if she wanted to go to IncaTeam (her favorite disco) to find a new random boy to boost her self esteem. So we did, and it was…well, relatively decent I suppose. Considering it was IncaTeam (usually a very crowded and hateful place for me). Amanda found a boy who boosted her self esteem, I had a nice little dance on my own (death glare still pasted on my face, the few people who dared approach were greeted with a very blunt “No tocame” or “no hableme” (Don’t touch me, don’t speak to me). But, I did find a nice boy to dance with who kept a respectful distance and told me I spoke good Spanish. I think the only reason he was able to come within my three foot bubble was because he looked like a Mr. Max Roth. At one point he even asked me why I don’t like dancing, when I said I didn’t know he responded “I know. Because the boys try to come near you”. Very observant young Lima boy, very observant. In any case, we had a nice chat, and then Amanda and I hopped in a cab home and ended our “night of debauchery”.

Oh yeah, it was 5:30 in the morning when we left IncaTeam. Apparently the sunrises as 5:30. I didn’t know this before. Oh the things you discover when you make promises you shouldn’t make, and probably shouldn’t keep either.