We spent our second day taking it easy and saving our energy for tomorrow’s trip to Machu Picchu. After sleeping until ten, we made a leisurely start for the Plaza de Armas, planning to visit a local produce market in the afternoon. Every major city in Peru seems to have a Plaza de Armas, and they all look much the same: a fountain in the center and a Baroque cathedral along one side.
© Richard HuangThe Plaza de Armas was unexpectedly lively today—a sea of fluttering banners, clanging gongs and beating drums, and people everywhere. It seemed as though all of Cusco had turned out. In the middle of the square, a large crowd was taking part in a religious ritual.
© Richard HuangThis group of dancers drew the most attention.
© Richard HuangDuring a break, these two struck up a conversation: “Man, it’s so hot, and we still have to keep these things on.” “What can you do, brother? That’s what we get for dressing up as gods and demons.”
© Richard HuangPeople streamed steadily into the cathedral beside the Plaza de Armas, carrying woven-grass objects, crosses, and other sacred items. They looked deeply devout. I imagine most of them were hoping the divine would grant them a better life.
© Richard HuangMeanwhile, at the edge of the square, the officers were busily preparing for the military review.
© Richard HuangThe military review began.
© Richard HuangThis little rascal slipped into the marching ranks, only to be chased out by the military police.
© Richard HuangThe vendors were hard at work too, seizing the chance to make some quick money from the crowd.
© Richard HuangAfter the military review came the civic parade. One contingent after another passed by: clergy, lawyers and judges, model citizens, and many more. Everyone taking part seemed to be someone of standing. With all of Cusco watching, each person made sure to look their very best.
© Richard HuangThere were exceptions, of course. This young woman looked as though she had been dragged into the parade before she was fully awake.
© Richard HuangThere were so many participants that those awaiting their turn stood around the outside of the square. Among these red-robed cardinals, one gentleman looked particularly pleased with himself: “They say everyone here is somebody, but why doesn’t anyone else have my sense? Under a sun this fierce, you’ve got to wear a hat—and a pair of shades.”
© Richard Huang“Oh well, grown-up business is none of my concern.”
© Richard HuangThere were plenty of students in the civic parade as well. Most wore smart uniforms; if they were not private-school students, they were probably from some of the better public schools. The principal called out, “Come on, everyone, take this seriously! Look sharp! If you disgrace the school, how are we supposed to recruit students next year?”
© Richard HuangChildren are always happiest when they get a chance to go out and have fun.
The events in the Plaza de Armas lasted most of the day. That afternoon, as planned, we headed to San Pedro Market, a well-known produce market used mainly by locals. Its reputation also draws plenty of tourists. The hotel’s advice was to keep a close eye on our belongings and wear our backpacks in front.
© Richard HuangAt the market, we overheard two women chatting: “I hear the people from Toronto Village are coming to shop. Think they’ll drive up the prices?” “I’m not worried. The truly rich people in Toronto are too busy fighting over houses to come here.”
© Richard HuangThe market had many juice stalls. The juices were freshly made from all kinds of fruit from the Amazon rainforest, so they were sweet and fresh. There was also a most unusual frog smoothie: a live frog blended on the spot with assorted fruits. Very distinctive—anyone with the nerve might want to try it.
© Richard HuangFresh chicken soup was another local specialty. The locals lined up for it, so it must have been good. The brightly colored drink hanging beside the stall was the famous Inca Kola.
© Richard HuangNo account of Peruvian ingredients would be complete without its many varieties of corn and potatoes, both renowned local staples.
© Richard HuangBesides food, the market sold plenty of handicrafts and everyday goods. The quality was naturally a little below that of the expensive tourist shops, but the prices were much lower. If you are looking for good value, it is a worthwhile option.
© Richard HuangFor the record, concerns about hygiene kept us from trying any of the delicacies just mentioned. All our praise was based entirely on hearsay.
© Richard HuangIf you want to try fruit from a street stall, it is best to choose something peeled fresh in front of you, as that reduces the risk of contamination. We tried this unfamiliar fruit by the roadside. It tasted like a cross between papaya and mango.
© Richard HuangThis innocent little girl was the fruit seller’s daughter. She followed her mother to the roadside stall and knew nothing of the events in the square. It was hard to imagine that she would ever become one of those children in uniform.
We had seen every sort of person in the square today, from generals to soldiers, priests to worshippers, dignitaries to street vendors. The ceremony gave each of them an opportunity to proclaim their place in society.
Those without the standing to take part belonged to society’s lower and lower-middle ranks. They were either busy earning a living in the market or could only watch the spectacle from the square. Many of them carried tokens woven from grass into the church, praying that God would grant them a happy and better life.
The truth is, the social class into which a person is born more or less determines their place in life. Perhaps that is God’s will. The pauper who rises to become a princess exists only in legend.
For the little girl at the fruit stall, the world she has known since birth may consist of nothing more than a humble home and the few streets where her mother regularly sells fruit.
The world within the child’s reach may be small, but perhaps her happiness is not. With no comparisons to make and no higher desires, perhaps happiness is eating the fruit her mother has set aside for her, even with the pulp still clinging to her lips; perhaps it is chasing and playing with other children in the street; perhaps it is staring at a strange uncle’s enormous camera lens…
If fate is not easily changed, then perhaps we should each accept the lot we have been given.
To be able to accept one’s lot must surely be happiness.