This past weekend was a blur of great times and it’s mostly thanks to the people pictured left.
Julio took us to a small mountain town called Casma, six hours north of Lima, to see his neice Jackie get hitched Saturday.
“Now, wait just a second there, TR,” you might be saying if you are thinking like I am by purposely setting up conflict for your blog post. “I thought that this trip to Peru was supposed to be for serious educational research and study. I want to read about the news in Peru as only you, with your sexy drive to ‘tell it like it really is on the streets,’ can deliver it — what gives?”
Well, would-be-and-should-be-in-the-future-travelers-to-Peru, I used to think the same as you. During my two weeks of previous travel in Peru, I focused intently on getting the story to people like you with the mindset that only those who are fully aware of the major health and safety issues for potential travelers of a third world country (that is to say, there are none of concern in Peru) as well as the most recent news, would make the choice to travel here.
What I found instead is much more fun and simple. Jackie’s wedding was beautiful, the party was exhilarating and Julio’s family as well as the city of Casma were the most gracious hosts that we could have possibly imagined.
How could the bride and groom have known that I like parties that last until the earliest hours of the morning, I thought as I tucked myself in Sunday morning at four, absolutely no match for Peruvian party standards. How could Julio’s family have known that I love fresh food with fresh ingredients and rarely get them at home, I thought as I shared my lunch with chickens in the backyard that would become my dinner. How could that team of girl volleyball players on the street have known that I wanted to join in their game Sunday and maybe get married to one or a few of them if it went well? Because I asked, that’s why.
They say that the best things in life are worth waiting for and we should know. Before the party started, we waited for the bride and groom. And waited, and waited and waited, until I had about a thousand-yard stare in my eyes and a million-years pain in my gut like, “Do you think anyone would notice if I swiped one of those delicious looking cakes near the stage?”
In what became a running theme of the weekend, the kids helped out. My BFF Jasmine, standing far right, helped take my mind off of my hunger pangs with a quick lesson in Spanish translation and when the party did start, she danced longer, faster and better than I did. And she didn’t even brag about it, well, maybe she did, but lo siento, yo no entiendo Español pero. The next morning, when all I wanted to do was sleep off my hangover, she helped pilot the rowboat that we found on the Casma beach to a better place for her and her family.
So, with five days left in the best working vacation I could have possibly imagined, I don’t plan on having another blog post up until I return home in Michigan Monday to fill you in on my weekend in Marcahuasi. Regardless, in case my plane gets hijacked my Martians and I never make it, please know that whatever happens certainly won’t be able to top what has happened, which has left my brain a tired slurpee of happiness, which is pretty much how I feel right now.