And with this alpaca...una foto, por favor?

So it was inevitable that at some point during my wanderings around the many plazas in Cusco, that I would have a furry creature of some sort thrust upon me for a photo opp. I was staring at the markings on an old building, mesmerized, when I suddenly felt a soft furry little thing rubbing against my hand. I looked down and saw a baby alpaca against my chest and its proud owner standing next to it. The colorfully-dressed Incan woman was pushing the baby alpaca into my arms, saying, “una foto amiga, una foto, por favour.” And of course, I obliged, because well, the little thing was practically already hanging off my jacket. The result, the photo you see here for the price of 1 Peruvian Sole. Initially, when it was time to pay, I pulled out a 50 centimos coin and handed it to the woman... not knowing what the going rate was for a photo with a baby alpaca and its Incan owner, I figured this would be ok. Immediately about 3 people around the woman started yelling at me because I didn’t know that photos with baby alpacas cost 1 Sol and how dare I think I could get away with only paying 50 centimos! I quickly handed the woman another .50, thanked her for the photo and scampered away, my head hanging in shame.

Later, I sipped a mango smoothie and watched cute little Incan children playing with each other. There are not enough words to describe how absolutely adorable these little children are, with their slightly chubby bodies, cute rosy cheeks and button noses. I want to just snap away a million pictures of them, but there is a sad story as to why I don’t.  Apparently, at some point in time, there was a huge issue of trafficking of Incan children to other parts of the world for adoption. People would take tons of pictures of cute children, and later advertise them for adoption. Taking pictures of Incan children is therefore frowned upon and as much as I want to capture my memories of these kids playing, I also really want to respect history and local fears.  So, in the meantime, I’ll probably take pictures of the million stray dogs that run the streets of Cusco instead. This, incidentally, is interesting as well. Stray dogs in Cusco are not the typical mutts you’d expect of strays – instead, I’ve seen so many pure breeds of dogs running aimlessly down the streets, from a Scottish sheep dog to collies, that I constantly have the urge to play with them, thinking they are people’s pets and forgetting they are stray, and that I have not been vaccinated...for fleas, rabies and other doggy diseases.

A custom in Peru, which I’m starting to fall in love with, is that everyone greets EVERYONE with a kiss on the cheek. People you just meet, people you’ve met before, men and women, women and women, men and men (well, maybe not, I’m guessing Peruvian machismo prevents this from taking place). For someone who considers herself a pretty touchy feely person to begin with, this came as a huge invasion of personal space at the beginning. But now, after merely a week, I’m starting to love it. There is something so amigable (friendly) about this tradition, it creates such instant closeness and a sense of care. I love it! I’ve decided, I’m bringing this tradition back to our continent. Friends, you’ll be kissed at hellos and goodbyes, whether you like it or not, and so will anyone you introduce me to, so plan wisely!

What is NOT amigable though, is a trip in a taxi sometimes. Taxi drivers do not like to be told how to get to a destination. They simply want to be told the address at the beginning, and then left to their own wits. Which, in the case of where I live, are never correct, as my apartment building is on a newer extension of the street they are familiar with.  So, every taxi ride is a negotiation. They usually end up bringing me in front of the ritziest hotel on the street, and park, expecting me to get out. When I tell them that’s not where I live and ask them to go down a dirt path to get to my building, they stare at me, like I’ve lost my mind. And then they usually respond with “it’s the same.”  No, dammit, it’s not the same, will you just listen to me and get me to my apartment!  Such is my typical experience trying to get home after dark.

And so with that random mix of stories, I’ll bid you adiós. More stories are brewing – stay tuned!