Cuy Your Way

Leading up to a year and a half in Peru and Bolivia, a visiting priest, either in ignorance or false hyperbole, described the poverty and struggles of Peru. “All they had to offer us was cuy or our guinea pig. That’s all they had to eat.”

Living in Peru taught me that guinea pig is actually considered a delicacy that originated with the Incas and if a family offers cuy, it is an honor as it is more expensive than beef or chicken.

For some reason, I stuck with reliable lomo saltado or papas a la huacaina over those 16 months. Plus, cuy never looked that appetizing. Yet, the memory a cuyless life living in South America brought the same traveler’s agony as not popping down a few tarantulas or grasshoppers in Cambodia. On this fifth trip 17 years later, cuy was on the menu.

Irish Spring?

If our Toronto to Lima flight was any indication, this student trip to Peru would be a shock to the senses. Each resettling movement to the left or right by a pair of Irish passengers clad in green shirts with little, yellow llamas stitched across their backs and on the front breast pocket, released a cloud of putrid fart that unsettled my Peruvian row mate and I. The pungent odor became so bad and frequent that Mario started clearing the air with his Air Canada emergency row card. And it would become a true emergency if this Irish fog continued wafting over us. Yet despite my mental pleas to stop gassing the area, in regular intervals, a new Irish wave rumbled through this emergency area. My mind initially thought maybe it was Mario trying to blame someone else, but when I pointed at him with a quizzical, grimaced look on my face, he emphatically shook his head no. He retorted in Peruvian accented English, “Someone must not be feeling well.”

Alpaca Sightings

Just as quick as our Toronto flight touched down in Lima in a fog of methane, another Lan Peru plane just as quickly whisked us away to the Andean mountains under the dark of night. After a brief, refreshing morning nap acclimatizing to the Cusco altitude, we briefly set out to explore. The group ran around La Plaza de Armas and Museo Del Convento De Santo Domingo.

The end of the day concluded at the Incan site of Sacsayhuaman. This was the religious epicenter of the Incan Empire that Francisco Pizarro and a small number of Spanish conquistadores on horseback conquered in the 1520’s. Aerial views highlight the unique shape of Sacsayhuaman. The remaining massive boulders form the shape of a puma.

The brisk, late afternoon chill signaled the student’s first view of the revered alpaca. Off in the distance, a handful of dogs playfully chased a grass eating group of alpacas from one side of Sacsayhuaman to the other. The girls peacefully recorded these shenanigans on their smartphones. Suddenly pinned between massive rocks and searching for an escape from ornery dogs, the alpacas made a direct line towards the group. And with that, the “ohhhs”, “ahhs”, and “how cute” on their phones converted into shrills of girls fleeing from rapidly approaching alpacas.

The Sun Gate

A bright spot overlooking Machu Picchu is the Sun Gate. This entry portal to the Incan site looms large figuratively and literally. The first glimpse of Machu Picchu Incan pilgrims centuries ago and hikers today is from the Sun Gate, our destination this morning.

Our group woke up under the silent stillness of the Andes as other anxious visitors quietly and steadily prepared for the day at 4:45 a.m. We represented a languid population. The more ambitious mavericks had scorned gas powered transportation and had set off earlier on foot up Hiram Bingham Highway. This “highway” was named after the (in)famous Yale University professor / rediscoverer who successfully marketed his findings with the world in National Geographic Magazine. He was the only person in the history of the publication to have an entire edition dedicated to his findings in South America. The trail up his “highway” is solely utilized by busses that constantly ferry tourists up and down a single, dirt route to the UNESCO World Heritage site. Yet there isn’t an actual road to Aguas Calientes capable of supporting busses. That’s the work of trains.

We hiked upstream early the second morning against the current of Inca Trail hikers clad in hiking boots, moisture wicking Patagonia, and contented expressions painted on their haggard faces. It’s understandable when you turn around and look from their perspective as the early morning sun frames Machu Picchu perfectly. Over time the Urubamba River gently crafted a flawless topography where highlighting peaks that magically catch the reflecting sun high above.

After a sweaty hour climbing the trail, the Sun Gate provided an alluring perch to look down on picturesque Machu Picchu. Every soul at the gate apparently felt the same. Individuals, groups, couples, you name it, the deluge of photos taken here were destined to grace Christmas cards, Instagram posts, and blog entries. There is a natural mystic in the air, it’s also quite romantic for a few. As every tourist posed below their hoisted smartphones on a selfie stick at just the right angle, a local dog had something else in mind. For now, we’ll just call him Rolla Jr. The large crowds and the premise of modesty didn’t deter this little guy. Rolla Jr. aggressively chased, mounted, and humped every dog at the Sun Gate, several times. For all the kid’s sake, it was out of camera view. These photographers were real professionals as Rolla Jr. went to town directly at the feet of couples taking their once in a lifetime Machu Picchu selfies. For Rolla Jr. and his mate for the minute, he consistently, and without regard to amorous decency and these intruding humans in his space, he bumped up repeatedly and rapidly against the calves of tourists. Even more impressive was their ability to maintain a blissful smile. That’s why they are professional selfie photographers these guys. No gyrations on their legs could erase that Kodak perfect smile.

As they recount colorful stories of their heroic climb to the Sun Gate, that Machu Picchu Sun Gate, I’m sure they will leave one seedy detail out. Needless to say, in addition to the dozens of photos that day, there may quite well be a couple liters of puppies who go by the name Rolla III.

Cuy Your Way

A fiesta de despedida concluded our homestay. The going away party provides students the chance to express their gratitude to their Peruvian hosts for opening up their homes and making them a part of the family, even if was only for a few days. In my experience, homestays make a more lasting impression on students than the actual places they visit. Those human connections break down the walls and open the world to new experiences. So hours before the party, I asked the girls if they wanted to try cuy, something I had never tasted in my pervious visits. Surprisingly, they unanimously responded with an empathic “YES!”

That final night in Ollantaytambo, spread out on the clear plastic table covering lay several 2 liter bottles of Coke, potatoes, a tomato and lettuce salad, and a single cuy spread out on a plate. It resembled a pig spread out at a luau, just a much, much skinnier version. The Peruvian Walking Tree rep, Tommy, called cuy a “sweaty meat”, a ringing endorsement for tonight’s dinner. His description pretty accurately portrays its’ taste. It’s stringy, a bit rubbery, and a little underwhelming. But it does have some positive benefits. Apparently cuy contains curative properties such as a cancer cure. These are surely qualities that make it impossible not to eat cuy. In the end, even though the cuy provided a lot less meat and satisfaction that a tenderloin steak would, it still provided the same exquisite experience.

Photos Across Peru