(The streets of downtown Arequipa---this time my own photos! )
El volcan Misti (snow capped) from Arequipa
What distinguishes this trip to "the white city" from my last visit there, is not only that I had a camera this time, but that Conny and I went to hike in the Colca Canyon, which is in fact deeper (and in my humble opinion prettier) than the Grand Canyon. Though, surprise surprise, the Colca Canyon carries not nearly as much international reverence or popularity as its little brother in the United States:
Conny and I decided to do a two-day treck. This guided tour would take us down the canyon, across the river, up half of the other side, across that side of the mountain and through a few towns, and back down again to an oasis-all in about seven hours. The entire next day was dedicated to climbing back up the side of the canyon for about four hours and later on enjoying the thermal baths and delicious lunch buffet in the town of Civay.
This is the oasis and trail leading back up the mountain. For the hike up that hill I happily chose to sit on mule back in stead of walking myself.
Early morning hours in the oasis
A fluff y Alpaca (not to be confused with Llamas, Vicuñas or even Guanacos)
The trip served as an excellent and much-needed vacation from school after our midterms. While the tours through the canyon is a very popular tourist attraction, the terrain and customs of the people inhabiting it still seemed fairly untouched and well preserved. Our tour guide, Angelito, told us that up until the 1990's, the people of the Colca region still did not have currency and traded food items, live stock and hand-made goods amongst each other until tourists started stirring up the economy with money.
For the third (and hopefully last) time I have moved to a new location, this time in the beautiful Barranco. It is considered the most "artsy" and bohemian part of Lima and attracts many young people who primarily come here to enjoy the rich night life. My house has an excellent view and a roof from which you can see a good portion of the city. I live with an absolutely wonderful group of people who inspire me and keep me balanced while I'm embarking on the home stretch of school work, which has the potential to drive me absolutely insane. On the downside to this new heaven of a house, my commute has been augmented to being about 1 hour and 30 minutes from the previous 45 minutes to an hour.
Life here has slowed down a little, and the busy streets of Miraflores and the party atmosphere of my old neighborhood have receded into my memory while I listen to the ocean's waves in stead of car alarms and the permeating reggaeton beat streaming out of the night clubs.
On Wednesday, Victor and I went to a soccer game. El Club Universitario de Deportes (LA U) played Sao Paolo, Brazil. It was awesome:
Interesting Highlights:
-Before the game started, young men were throwing plastic bags into the audience. They were filled with little square yellow-pages cut outs that would be used as confetti later -The stadium did not have a working clock and the whole place was rather decrepit, but the mood was rich and inviting! -When people were standing up too long in the bleachers, angry shouts would come from behind "Sientense!" (sit down) and if action wasn't taken promptly enough, offending standers would get hit in the back of the head with a ball of tightly crumbled confetti paper. -The final score was 0:0, leaving behind a despondent crowd. The game started with a lot of energy and just wore out towards the end.
Peru is not a country of rich musical diversity, at least when it comes to the popular stuff. Thus, listening to the radio (i.e. being forced to listen to what is being played on the radio, as a result of sitting in a public place) really doesn’t do much for me. From what I heard from Peruvian friends, popular music has evolved slightly in recent years, buy it’s really hard to believe that it has changed much in its essence; what has changed, is the demographic distribution of its listeners. The most popular music here is, of course, “Latin Pop,” (which is a term I just made up to have an umbrella term for later classifications) and if you’re thinking Shakira and Nelly Furtado, you’re really not far off. The Latin American equivalent for MTV is called HTV, which is an Argentinean channel, airing video clips that more often than not include a group of machismo men wearing sunglasses, and a few near-naked women dancing, walking around with their hair blowing in the wind, or sitting on the singer’s lap like a Chihuahua. Most of the music that is played there falls into the category of soft rock, salsa or Reggaeton. Here are examples of each:
Reggaeton:
Something poppy with a salsa-esque rhythm:
and Salsa (my personal favorite, and probably most popular):
Even more prevalent in Lima’s culture, especially for those who don’t own a TV, is the Cumbia, which historically speaking is “peasant music.” Before the year 2000, there supposedly was a great divide between the music of the lower and of the upper classes. The lower class (and those living outside of the city), I was told by a Peruvian friend, listened to what is called Chicha. It’s apparently the predecessor of the Cumbia, which has migrated form the jungle and landed in the city. Now both rich and boor, peasants and businessmen listen to the same music, but for vastly different reasons: the rich mainly see it as peppy entertainment and a trend, while those who grew up with Chicha, view Cumbia as a part of their culture and family history. This is what Cumbia sounds like:
One example should be enough for you to get a very good idea what it is, because it all pretty much sounds the same. Don't judge me because I enjoy this song. The video that accompanies it is actually a very accurate portrayal of what a Cumbia concert is like. A few weeks ago my friend Joel, his brother, and niece took me to a live Cumbia concert to see his nephew who was supposed to sing in one of the "orquestas". We arrived at the outside concert venue at around 11pm and the massive field was already filled with drunk people, dancing around boxes of beer to the repetitive cumbia beat. We waited through three bands: Jenny, Los Internacional Privados, and Papillon. There was no significance differece between the three and we were there until 4 am, listening to essentially the same song over and over, just with different singers and lyrics. The band set up is unlike anything I had ever seen before: A group of between 5 - 7 men is standing in front of the stage, each with their own microphone, and each wearing the same outfit (usually slacks with a crazy print/colored button up shirt). While one of them is singing, the rest of them are all dancing in unison. Behind them is the 8-person band, to which nobody really pays close attention. To each side of the singers, are two nearly naked girls in nothing but a belt, bikini top, and stripper boots: From time to time a camera man will focus in on their breasts or butt, displaying her body parts on the big screens on either side of the stage. The role of women in the music industry is pretty clear. Nevertheless, the experience was incredible, especially since we didn't have to pay the 20 soles to get into the concert, because one of the band's dancers (still mostly clothed) had handed us free entrance tickets while we were waiting outside. I was the only gringa in the whole place, and was given a free CD with about 100 mp3s on it to share with my gringo friends. Don't worry, I won't make you go through that. One thing that really called my attention was a small group of about seven openly homosexual men dancing at the back of the venue. They seemed very happy to be jiving with each other and at first I was sort of jealous at how much fun they seemed to be having. Once I noticed the people around them, I quickly became very disturbed. There were a lot of dirty looks, a lot of name calling, pointing and laughing, even from the people I was with, which made me really uncomfortable. It's difficult to observe this part of peruvian (and most latin-american) culture without trying to impose my somewhat liberal, north-american point of view on them. Homophobia is very much prevalent and the norm here and it hurts.
Getting back on the topic of music, Peru also has many roots in African culture, and one of its most vibrant manifestations is Afro-Peruvian music, and the cajón:
The cajón--a percussion box that often has snare strings inside it--is nowadays played all around the world (Spain for instance) but is extremely common in most of Latin America, especially in Cuba, Brazil, Argentina, and of course, Peru. I've seen kids on the bus, playing the cajón for money quite proficiently, and attended several concerts at the Spanish Cultural Center here in Lima, that dedicated the whole month of April to the cajón. There were daily concerts, workshops and documentaries, all of which were well-attended and lovely.
I've also been to several larger concerts thanks to both my friend Victor, who is very much involved in all things culture, and my good friend Adele, who is here on a Fulbright Grant, exploring the Barranco music scene with a focus on the role (or lack thereof) that women have in the popular music scene here. Her job, essentially, is to attend shows, and interview musicians during their rehearsals. For me it's perfect because there's always something to do with her and I get exposed to some lesser-known bands and quality music. Without jumping to too many conclusions, of course, I think I can unequivocally state that a woman's role in an ensemble is not nearly as important as that man's counterpart, as females usually are sexy dancers, or background singers. Those few all-female groups, like "Las amigas de nadie" (The [girl]friends of nobody) for example, then have to try really hard to make a name for themselves, usually ending in a product that's less about the music, and more about the rebellious alternative image, and an almost desperate attempt to spread their name through social websites like facebook, myspace and twitter.
Interesting also is the lingering desire of peruvian musicians to copy music they hear coming from the United States. A lot of bands that I've heard playing at "Rock in el Parque" for instance sounded exactly like the Beach Boys, Kiss, and Guns and Roses...just in Spanish. The irony, of course, is that the social/cultural context that surrounded these American Bands isn't the same here; Rock'n'Roll doesn't really have the same meaning here. Regardless, the music is essentially identical. Even the music that Victor presented to me under the pretext of it being "different" because it fuses north-american, and south-american styles, is really mostly just repetitive grunge rock with spanish lyrics and perhaps a cajón to add that peruvian flair. I really wish there was more emphasis on originality, truly peruvian ingenuity and more autochthonous elements. It seems that when it comes to music and fashion, Peruvians look too much towards the United States for a role model.
STOP IT! It's time to brace yourself, embrace yourself and stop disgracing yourself with mere imitation!
There we had lunch (which, when compared to peruvian cuisine, was absolutetly atrocious) and headed right back to Tacna via colectivo that same day. From there we found a bus that would take us into Arequipa within 10 hours, where we exhausted and happy about the new 180-days visa (!) stamps in our passports, collapsed into our beds at a lovely hostel downtown Arequipa.
There we had lunch (which, when compared to peruvian cuisine, was absolutetly atrocious) and headed right back to Tacna via colectivo that same day. From there we found a bus that would take us into Arequipa within 10 hours, where we exhausted and happy about the new 180-days visa (!) stamps in our passports, collapsed into our beds at a lovely hostel downtown Arequipa.
(The streets of downtown Arequipa---this time my own photos! )
El volcan Misti (snow capped) from Arequipa
About to embark on our journey
This is the oasis and trail leading back up the mountain. For the hike up that hill I happily chose to sit on mule back in stead of walking myself. 
Early morning hours in the oasis
A fluff y Alpaca (not to be confused with Llamas, Vicuñas or even Guanacos)
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