Feeds:
Posts
Comments

18 Days in Iquique, Chile

Everyone runs in Iquique. That’s the first thing I noticed when I arrived here 17 days ago.  They run early in the morning, in the afternoon when the sun is burning, and in the evening when it’s dark out. You can run here any time, really, because all of the cars are new! There are no big trucks leaving behind thick clouds of black smoke that burn your lungs like in Cusco. The air is clean and filled with the musty, salty scent of the sea.

 Atreyhus and I have been staying here with his cousin, we’ll call him El Gran Jefe. He was nice enough to let us stay at his place, which is right near the beach.  I’d never been to Chile before, and since my 3- month visa was up in Peru, I had to leave the country to get it renewed again. Little did I know Atreyhus’s cousin would turn out to be a machismo control freak, which has put a serious damper on our vacation, but we’ve still managed to enjoy our time here, even is every woman staying in this house looks at me as if I were an abomination to all women because I have a job and don’t spend all day cleaning, cooking, and waiting on Atreyhus.

Iquique’s a nice town, pleasantly sprawled out along the coastline. It’s got a movie theatre, big shopping malls, bars and restaurants, even a Casino (Iquique’s a port town so it’s a tax free zone). The only problem is getting around. Their bus system is seriously limited and a “collectivo” taxi, which you share with other passengers going to a destination near you, costs 500 pesos a person. So whenever Atreyhus and I want to go somewhere it ends up costing us 6 soles one way. That might not sound like a lot, but compared to the 3 soles I’m used to paying in Cusco for a private taxi, it is.

Chilenos are very nice people, though I’ve only met a few of El Gran Jefe’s friends. Their accents were tough to make out at first, but I’ve gotten the hang of it, po. Chile seems more developed than Peru- at least in Iquique. Like I said, everyone drives new cars, the cars actually yield to pedestrians, supermarkets have frozen goods like meat and vegetables, and the government, at least at a local level, seems have a good handle on the community. The streets are clean and well- lit, there are bike lanes on the sides of the roads, there’s even South America’s biggest skate park (which Atreyhus was just thrilled about).

But despite all this modernity, I miss Peru. Neighbors aren’t very neighborly here. I don’t even think El Gran Jefe knows his neighbors. Everyone on his block is so concerned with keeping people out. They have high metal gates and high tech security systems. A lot of them also have aggressive dogs that bark at any passerby. Peruvians are more open people. You’ll see friends hanging out on street corners, neighbors dropping by to say hello, children playing in the street. 
Chile reminds me of the U.S. a little in the way that it has a lot of nice, expensive things but it’s lacking substance. It lacks culture. Chile doesn’t really have a strong indigenous population, not compared to the descendants of the great Incas in Peru. Peru’s got soul. Chile doesn’t.

One thing I never realized was the large divide between Peruvians and Chileans. In the 1800s there was a big war between Peru and Chile, which resulted in Chile gaining some Peruvian territory, which are now Arica and Iquique in Chile.  Apparently, both sides are still pretty sore about it. So much so that our first few days here, Atreyhus was speaking Spanish like a gringo, so no one would know he was Peruvian. El Gran Jefe seems to like it here and when I asked if he felt like Peruvians where discriminated against, he said no. But then again he owns a successful auto parts business, so I doubt anyone treats him badly.

I know I’m biased because Peru’s the first foreign country I’ve ever been to, it’s where I learned Spanish, and it’s where I fell in love. And I’ve only been in one small part of Chile so I really don’t know it all that well. But in my mind, Chile is kind of a political bully. They have a pretty strong army and just a few months ago there was a big scandal when it was discovered that a Peruvian military official was giving insider information to Chilean spies. Now that’s just downright playing dirty. From what I’ve seen, it seems like the quote Atreyhus is always telling me is true. Chile makes a great student, but an awful classmate.

 

taken from http://justiciaparamagalymedina.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html

 

I’ve been thinking lately about celebrities, and after much careful consideration, I’ve decided that I’d rather be famous in Peru than in the U.S. In Peru, you get to be famous, have money and fine things, be upper class, BUT you don’t have to worry about people invading every corner of your life. It seems people here respect the private lives of celebrities. At least in comparison with the United States. Take for example Johanna San Miguel. She’s the funny, bubbly talk show host for the morning news program called America Espectaculo. About a week ago, she mysteriously disappeared from the news program.  Instead, the 2 news anchors, Federico Salazar and Veronica Linares, were doing her bit, which basically consists of gossiping about celebrities. Try as they did, they just didn’t compare to Johanna.

For 2 weeks I tried to figure out where she went. In vain, I typed her name into Google, trying to find some news article about her.  Was she fired? Was she sick? Did she quit? Atreyhus teased me that they fired her for being too fat (she’s a little “gordita”). I knew he was joking, but then I started to wonder…

Then one day she was back! Federico and Veronica announced her return and the camera panned over to a cheerful, notably thinner Johanna. Veronica mentioned that the reason for Johanna’s disappearance would always be a mystery. Johanna simply said that she’d done something “very intimate”.  After about 3 minutes of everyone talking about how great she looked a strange thing was happened. Well, actually, NOTHING happened. The show continued on like normal as Johanna relayed the top celebrity gossip of the day.

Try as I might, I couldn’t find a single scandalous news article about Johanna’s mysterious weight loss (cough, Liposuction, cough, cough). I looked at every tabloid-like newspaper in Cusco and found nothing. The only thing I uncovered was a slight mention of it on a Peruvian blog.

Maybe I make it sound like I was disappointed, but actually I was just in shock. If that were some celebrity in the U.S. you can bet her face would be plastered over every cheap tabloid in the country.  It was refreshing to see that no one was being malicious about it.  It made me think about when Teddy Roosevelt was president and, out of respect, no one ever took a picture of him in his wheelchair. Ok, well maybe I’m being a little dramatic but it’s a nice image.

Now, Johanna isn’t extremely famous, even by Peru standards, and maybe if someone like Magaly Medina (who everyone in Peru seems to hate, but who gets A LOT of news coverage) had gotten liposuction, it would have been a bigger deal- but I still don’t think it’d be as bad as in the states. And when it comes down to it- who cares? Is it really necessary for magazines and Internet blogs to write about every little detail and scandal that goes on in celebrities’ lives? Do we really have nothing better to do? Is it really more important than what’s going on in Iraq or Africa? Maybe the US should take a cue from Peru and BACK OFF. Of course, as long as tabloids are still selling, they’ll still exist. So I don’t hold out much hope.

Down to the Last Centimo

 

Currency is a peculiar thing in Peru. The break down’s pretty similar to that of the states; there are bills for 200 soles (or s/. 200), 100 soles, 50 soles, 20 soles, and 10 soles. Then there’s a 5 soles coin, a 2 soles coin, and 1 sol coin. Then we get down to centimos, where there are 50 centimos, 20 centimos, and 10 centimos. These are the most common types of money used. However, some people might not know it, but the currency breaks down even smaller; into itty-bitty silver coins, as light and plastic-y as play money. Yes, my friends, meet 5 centimo and 1 centimo. Think of 1 centimo like 1/100th of a penny. Now most places don’t use these coins. The super market called “Mega”, for example just rounds off. If your bill is s/.10.27, they charge you s/.10.30. If it’s s/.10.23, they charge you s/.10.20. I think it’s much simpler this way. A lot less messy. But the supermarket right near my work, “La Canasta” calculates everything down to the last centimo. This is a problem, because I always pass by it, and always stop in on my way home from work. Don’t get me wrong, their prices are great and they sell things like small bags of pureed garlic for 50 centimos, rather than like in the Mega where they only sell large tubs of it for about 5 soles. What are ya gonna do with a huge tub of garlic!?? Anyways, back to my point. As a result of going to the Canasta, I have a change purse filled with these little, silver- colored, plastic coins. It wouldn’t be so annoying, if it weren’t for the fact that NO ONE ACCEPTS THESE COINS. Is it legitimate national currency? Yes. Do 10 little 1-centimo coins equal 10 centimos? Yes! So why doesn’t anyone accept them? Beats the heck out of me! I guess they’re small and easy to get lost, but hey, so are diamonds, and you don’t see anyone refusing to accept those!

I did get away with using 2 5-centimo coins on the combi once.  But the guy gave me a really dirty look, like I was being cheap or something. A few days ago I tried to give a 5 – centimo coin to pay for a roll of tape. Denied. “No lo aceptamos”.  I informed her that they’re legitimate Peruvian currency, and that there’s no reason not to accept it, but she simply replied with another “No lo aceptamos.” So now, I’ve devised a plan to save up all the little 1- and 5-centimo coins I can and cash them into the bank. If I get denied there, I think I may finally snap.

These troublesome coins are annoying, but they’re also another reason why I love Peru. It’s another one of those quirky things that make absolutely no sense, but that the people firmly believe in (well, in this case they believe in their refusal of them!).

I just wanted to remind foreigners/tourists to be careful this time of year when taking taxis in Peru. 2 of our volunteers have been robbed in the last week in taxis. In both cases, the taxi driver took them down a dark street and 2 or 3 other men jumped in, taking whatever they had. One case happened in Cusco, and the other in Arequipa. SO please be careful. Never carry more than you need, and always take registered taxis and try to remember the number of the taxi (it’s usually painted on the inside of the door, below the window.) Also, if at all possible take a taxi with someone else. This doesn’t just go for late at night….the volunteer in Arequipa was robbed at 7:30pm! Better yet, take a combi.

The torrential rains in Cusco

 

The rainy season’s begun in Cusco! That means choclo, mangos, and mandarins aren’t far off!!! Luckily, it’s mainly been raining at night, which is fine by me. It lulls me to sleep. But I also think it’s been making me lazy. Somehow as I lie in bed at night and listen to the rain drops pitter-pattering on the rooftop I lose all determination to go running in the morning. At least that was the case all last week and this morning. We’ll see how it goes tomorrow.

January is when it gets really bad. You’ll wake up and it’ll be a sunny, clear day and then by lunch the rain will be coming down like the sky cracked open and the ocean fell through, turning the streets into rivers. Really. There’s no way to keep from getting wet. It comes in from the sides, from above, and from below. So you either settle for getting your shoes wet, or you wear rain boots every day, rain or shine. The rain usually only lasts for about 15- 20 minuutes. Then the clouds part and the sun breaks through, and it’s hard to believe that you’re standing there soaking wet. It’s like a temper tantrum. Strong and ugly, but short. 

Luckily, Omar and I will be in Lima come January. Hopefully the hotheaded rains will hold off until then. Then you’ll hear me complaining about humidity. But we’ll deal with that when we come to it. I’m getting excited about life in the big city…a new place to explore, new restaurants to check out (granted they’re not too expensive), I’ve even been thinking about trying to learn how to surf- I hope I don’t chicken out!

On another, completely unrelated note I just learned the word for handcuffs in Spanish. Esposas. “Wives” in English. And no, it’s not slang. That’s the actual, official word. That says something about Latino mentality. Maybe that’s why Atreyhus hasn’t proposed yet…….

DSC00114

Recently, I’ve been visiting organizations all over Cusco to see about the possibility of placing volunteers with them come this summer. I’ve been to organizations for women, orphans, and children working in the streets, just to name a few. Last Monday I visited a school called ANIA: Tierra de Ninos “Vida en mis Manos”. ANIA stands for Asociacion para la Ninez y su Ambiente (Association for Children and their Environment). I didn’t know too much about the organization before I went- just that ProPeru might want to work with them and my boss told me to go. The ANIA School I went to is located in a town called Huacarpay, a short 40- minute bus ride from Cusco city.

Before I went, I had a few email exchanges with Yanet, a teacher and the woman in charge of the school. He emails were very friendly, she always wrote to me in big, green font and said things like “les esperamos con much carino” and “un abrazo fuerte”. I had a good feeling about the place. When I arrived in Huacarpay, I followed the directions Yanet had given me and eventually saw a cute little green school situated on a small hilltop that overlooked a lake. When I entered the school, the sight of gardens greeted me on either side of the walkway. There were 2 gringas making some sort of bench out of mud, plastic bottles, and plaster. I was about to enter a classroom when a small woman with skin browned by the sun and shiny black hair popped her head out. Yanet. She was wearing a ruffly green apron, and promptly greeted me with a “bessito” on the cheek. 

Most of the children who attend ANIA are from the remote countryside of Cusco. Their families bring them to Huacarpay to work as housekeepers, and to learn Spanish. Yanet explained to me that the parents think they’re doing something good, by giving their children a chance to be successful through learning Spanish, but that they’re really harming their children by effectively abandoning them and leaving them to live with families that treat them like less than dogs [my words, not hers]. This is why Yanet and the other teacher who works at the school, Norma, make sure to give the children all the love and affection possible. Towards the end of my tour, Yanet brought me into a classroom filled with children. All of them excitedly said “Hola” to me and a bunch of them ran up to me and gave me hugs. I couldn’t get one girl to let go! They’re definitely really sweet children, and it’s so sad to think that they don’t get the love they deserve where they live. ANIA is their only refuge.

ANIA’s philosophy is to educate children through means of the environment. They recycle everything, from the dolls they make out of plastic bottles, to the purses they weave from plastic bags, to the benches they’re making out of weighted plastic bottles and mud. They make most of their crafts in art class, and sell them at the annual Christmas Market Cusco has every December 24th. The money goes to buying things for the school, as the government doesn’t help them out much. Last year they bought some camera equipment and now they have a news show that they broadcast on YouTube.

Their main focus is on plants. Each student gets a small plot of land that they learn to take care of. Many of them have small vegetables growing. Through the act of farming, the children are taught the value of nature. Each plot if divided up into a section for “Pacha Mama” (Quechua for Mother Earth), a section for sharing (they bring the plants in that section back to the house they live in), and a section for personal gain where many of the children sell their crops or eat them themselves. They also have a greenhouse, where the students work in groups, and they get their own small plot for medicinal plants. Yanet and Norma encourage a visual and physical approach to learning, rather than having children sit and listen to lectures and copy down notes.

ANIA encourages creativity and resourcefulness in children while teaching them about the importance of taking care of the earth.  In a world where global warming is becoming a bigger threat every day, ANIA is certainly an example to be followed.

Combi Adventures

IMG_0312

I have many a combi story and have heard many a combi story, whether it involves getting lost, felt up, pick pocketed, or finally figuring out the winding routes. Combis are dirty, sometimes rather uncomfortable, fast moving modules of transportation. And I take them whenever I can.

They’re small vans, usually from Japan, that have been gutted on the inside and replaced with several bus- like seats, but smaller. Sometimes the seats inside match, and sometimes they’re all different colors and it looks like someone went junkyard shopping. I’ll never forget the first time I was in Cusco and I saw a combi drive by, packed with Peruvians. I mean, there wasn’t an inch of room in that van.

Combis can be intimidating at first. There’s no convenient map, showing each combi’s route, like in New York. You just have to get to know it. Throughout Cusco, there are small blue signs with a picture of a bus on them and the word “paradero”- Spanish for bus stop.  That’s where you get on. A speeding combi will come to a quick halt as someone hangs out of the open sliding door, shouting a flurry of words that would be indiscernible to the average tourist. “Ayacucho, Maruri, Calle Nueva”. The cobrador1 shouts out the combi’s stops so quickly the words sort of melt together. But after a while, you start to be able to pick them out.

Getting on and off combis can be sort of scary. First off, if the combi is packed and you happen to be sitting in the back, you better yell “bajo” pretty loudly because no one’s going to make room for you. (Bajo is what you say when you want to get off at the stop they’re yelling out). Instead, you have to squeeze your way past people, some sitting, most of them standing in the narrow passageway, and finally you make it out the combi. Like traveling through the birth canal. You also have to be careful not to hit your head on the low door way. Most combis are smaller than an average mini-van.

Then there’s payment. A combi ride is 60 centimos, less than 50 cents. Having change is crucial. In Peruvian currency, there is a 5- sol coin, a 2- sol coin, a 1- sol coin, and then centimos which are little gold coins (50, 10 and 20 centimos coins). From 10 up, the soles are bills. I usually try to have exact change. If not, any coin is acceptable. If you try to give them a 10-sol bill, they’ll usually give you a dirty look and then change it. Some passengers try to give them a big bill they can’t change, so they’ll pay less. The ‘ol “either change my 50 sol bill or accept the 40 centimos I have” routine.

One day I boarded a combi and half way through my ride, realized I only had a 50- sol bill on me. My stomach dropped, my hands got a little sweaty, I started planning my strategy. I didn’t want to give the cobrador my money too soon, because if she couldn’t change it, she’d make me get off the combi. I imagined her yelling at me, onlookers chuckling, thinking I was some dumb gringa who didn’t know anything about proper combi etiquette. Finally she asked me for my “paisaje” and I slowly handed it over. She said (in Spanish, of course) “you don’t have anything smaller?”, chuckling in disbelief under her breathe. “No” was my sheepish reply. She yelled up to the driver to change 50. He gave her 5- 10 centimo coins. No, 50 soles she replied. That’s when I heard a few chuckles. He handed over the change and she gave it to me. Not too painful. Once my face stopped burning.

But today I saw something that made my 50- sol fiasco seem like nothing. There were 2 gringas on the combi, and they tried to give an old, dirty, crumpled up 1-dollar bill to pay for their paisaje. The driver just looked at them, smiling at their stupidity and said “no”. The one gringa’s reply was “ es 2.80 soles”. The cobrador just shook his head again and said “no”. They had to get off the combi early. I mean come on, I don’t think any tourist is that stupid, especially not those 2 because they spoke Spanish pretty well. Any tourist who has the balls to try out the combi system has to know that no one in Cusco is going to accept an old dollar bill. Even a new one with a tear on the edge is unacceptable! I think they were just playing the clueless foreigner card and trying to get a free ride. But hey, who knows? Maybe some people really are that stupid.

I first became really reliant on the combi system when I was teaching English and Atreyhus and I moved kind of far from the institute. Too far to walk. Let me tell you, getting the combi system down made me feel like a bad ass. Within 2 weeks, I vaguely knew the route of just about every combi that passed my way. I want to go to the post office, I take Pegaso. For Molino, I take Satelite or Wimpillay. San Jeronimo, I take Chaska. ( I forgot to mention that each combi line has it’s own name).

 Luckily, I live on a busy street, so there is a large selection of combis at my disposal. Little ones, even big ones that would qualify for bus status in U.S. terms. The best thing is hopping on a combi and knowing exactly where it goes, even the names of the stops before the cobrador calls them out. I’ve seen a couple of girngos on combis before, but it’s not something that’s too common. I, personally, try to take a combi whenever I can. They’re inexpensive, fast, and reliable during business hours. So the next time a taxi slows down and honks it’s horn at you, turn your head the other way and have a little adventure on a combi. Once you get it down, you’ll feel like you can do anything!

1 A cobrador is the person who works in the passenger part of the combi. They open and close the door, collect money, and yell out all of the stops. The person driving the combi is called the chofer.

For those of you who may not know what a Fiance visa is, it’s a visa that allows your foreign fiance to come to the U.S. before marriage. Upon entrance to the U.S., you and your fiance must get married within 90 days. It’s a pretty serious commitment, and because of this, Atreyhus and I have been considering it for about a year.

 A good amount of my journal entries will most likely be dealing with this, so this is a good place to look if you’re interested in how the process goes. After consulting many people who have either gotten married here and then gone to the states, or who have done the fiancé visa, we decided the fiancé visa is the quickest and cheapest way to go. With marriage, not only do you have to apply for an Immigration Visa, but you have to deal with all the wacky local laws regarding marriage. Sure, I love Peru, but I’m getting eager to get to the states and begin our life (and law school for me)!

We went with a lawyer for the sole reason that I am also in Peru. Eventually Atreyhus will need to get an interview at the U.S. embassy in Lima, but, according to the USCIS representative I spoke with, if I were to need an interview, I’d have to go back to the states to for my interview (how ridiculous!!).  The lawyer we went with was cheaper than the last plane ticket I bought from Cusco to the U.S., so we figured we might as well have a lawyer help us do the paperwork as perfectly as possible so that it’s not necessary for me to have an interview.

Right now, we’re in the beginning stages. Atreyhus and I are collecting all of the evidence we have to prove we’re a couple; pictures together, emails, phone records, our joint bank account statement, letters from friends who know us as a couple. Lots of stuff! I can’t wait until we actually file the petition!! The whole process takes anywhere from 6-9 months, but I’m banking on 9 months, just so I don’t get my hopes up.

On another note, Atreyhus and I are seriously considering moving to Lima. The tourist agency he opened up about 9 months ago isn’t making any money, and he can’t find a part-time job here, so we might be moving in with his sisters, living in their house since childhood rent- free, and Omar already has a job there. The idea is exciting; I’ve always wanted to live in Lima, but I wonder if I’ll miss the serene mountains, the powerful sun, the small- town feeling, and, of course, my job. I guess we’ll see!

Abortion has been brought to the public’s attention in Peru, recently as political groups are proposing to legalize abortion in the case of rape, or when the fetus is severely deformed. According to an article in El Comercio, “La comisión especial revisora del Código Penal del Congreso”, or The special revisory commission of the Penal Code of Congress, recently rejected the request of reconsidering the bill to legalize abortion in those specific cases. 6 against, 5 in favor, and one in abstention. Pretty close. Apparently in December it will be sent to the president of Congress, Luis Alva Castro, to be decided. There’s certainly a lot of controversy surrounding the issue.

 The fact that this issue is even being brought to light is a sign of progression and change regarding the government and Peruvians as a whole. It’s sparked political activism, with people taking to the streets to show their support either for or against abortion. Abortion is an issue that, in my opinion, has been overlooked in Peru for a long time and it’s about time they started talking about it. Though abortion is illegal, there’s a surprising amount of women who have had them. According to the BBC website, every year hundreds of thousands of women in South America die or are seriously injured from illegal abortions.

In my experience working with rural communities surrounding Cusco and doing health campaigns, there are always a few women who have had abortions. I’ve even heard gossip of a few clinics that secretly perform abortions, even sometimes pushing women into getting them done. This is one of the problems with it being illegal. There’s no way to regulate it. Desperate women get them done, and there’s no way to be sure that the people performing them know what they’re doing, or that it’s being done in a sanitary environment. If Peru legalizes abortion perhaps there could be support groups for women who have been through it. I know it’s a long shot, but if it’s legal, more foreign NGOs might be inclined to participate in something like that.

Peru still has a lot of issues to overcome regarding abortion, and if legalized, it will probably take a few more decades. One of the issues is machismo. Peru is a country ruled by men, many of them catholic. I was reading an article on abortion in El Comercio last Saturday, and 2 men, both against abortion, were giving their opinions on the issue. I’m sorry, but listening to 2 men prattle on about how traumatic abortion is for women, and how if raped, they must keep the child (which leads me to wonder how the mother might treat said child, anyone seen the movie Turtles Can Fly??) was hard to swallow. Yes, men are allowed to have their opinions. Yes, people are allowed to be opposed to abortion. But they should at least offer another opinion in the article, like maybe from a woman’s perspective? But, I must say that this morning there was an abortion debate from people for and against it, both men and women. Another sign of hope!

Then there’s the issue of religion. Though church and state are separate in Peru, politics is still strongly influenced by religion, and the Catholic Church hasn’t been shy about expressing its opinions on abortion.

Still, I can’t help but feel like this debate is a sign that a change is gonna come. Abortion is an extremely controversial issue, even in countries like the U.S. where it’s legal in most states. It was a ballsy move to consider this issue, and I say Vive el Peru!

*Abortion is a touchy issue and I know many people feel strong about it one way or the other. What do you think about what’s happening in Peru regarding this issue?

turron-dona-pepa-nougat-2305

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, I’ve got a new Peruvian pastry to add to my list. El Turrón.  It’s a special pastry that’s made during the month of October to celebrate “el mes morado” or the purple month, which celebrates El Senor de Los Milagros. For more info, click here. It’s really a holiday celebrated in Lima, but they also celebrate it here in Cusco a little. I’ve seen at least a dozen little old ladies wearing purple dresses with a white rope tied around their waist. But back to El Turrón.  It’s a flaky, buttery, layered pastry. The top is coated with a delicious honey mixture. There are also little candies on top which remind me of dot candy.  This is followed by more of the honey mixture in between every layer.

I ate my 1st turrón today at the bakery by the post office on Avenida el Sol. It cost me s/. 1.50. A little steep for my liking, but hey, it’s a special holiday treat! So I indulged. I stood eating it at the nearby bus stop, pieces crumbling onto the sidewalk with every bite. I was thankful to be outside. Once on the bus, I took to licking the manjar blanco off the inside of the bag. There go my manners. It was sweet and delicious, just perfect for my mid- morning hunger pangs. A little on the dry side, but I attribute that more to the high altitude than the recipe. I bet they’re better in Lima.

alfajores-con-manjarblanco-1903

Good, but not as good as my all time favorite Peruvian pasty, the alfajor. Yum. This treat is made with manjar blanco, which is like caramel but less sticky. The manjar blanco is situated between 2 delicious, powdery cookies and topped with confectioner’s sugar. They come in all sizes, little tiny ones the size of half dollars, medium ones, and large ones. I like the medium ones best. Okay, sometimes the large. They’re pretty good in Cusco, but when I went to Lima last July, I had an alfajor awakening. I’d heard that alfajores were better in Lima, so the first morning Atreyhus and I were in his hometown, Callao, I had him take me to the closest panaderia and I bought one.  It was a delicious explosion of moist cookie and rich, creamy manjar blanco. It made the Cusco version seem stale (again, it’s the altitude- not the bakers). I quickly came to the conclusion that if I lived in Lima, I’d weigh 200 pounds.

Another notable pastry, the churro, is high on my list. Sweet, fried dough. Mmmmm. I have yet to try it’s cousin, the picaron (deep fried dough made from sweet potato) but you can bet I will some day soon!

Older Posts »