The Peruvian Hustle

We’ve all experienced kind words or seemingly helpful advice from persistent and charming people. Those who glide us into their world spinning and twisting, making us believe it is what we want or where we need to go. The Peruvians have this dance nailed down. You might not even know you have taken part until it is over and you are left, breathless and slightly disoriented, wondering where you are. Welcome, my friends, to the Peruvian Hustle!

If you’ve never seen or danced the hustle, you might want to check out this guy. He’s pretty smooth:

There are two main types of the Hustle in Peru. First let’s talk about the coastal hustle. It’s a fast moving, fast talking sort of dance. It happens so quickly that you are left unsure why you are out of breath. The person dancing with you hardly lets you get a word in; they just keep moving their lips. The Coastal Hustlers will go to lengths unimaginable to gain your confidence and secure you as a partner in their dance. You will start to believe that this person would do anything for you.

My best example of the Coastal Hustle happened the moment I arrived in Peru. I met a friend at the airport in Lima, it was near midnight and our hostel was supposed to have a driver there waiting for us. We walked through customs, searched the group of people for our names and found nothing. Meanwhile an official taxista waved us over to see if we needed a ride. We told him no, that our hostel was supposed to be here. He asked where we were staying and we told him. This was mistake number one. The safe way to avoid the dance would have been to walk away and go back inside to look again for our driver, without giving the taxista any information.

Next the taxista pulled out his cell phone and with a kind smile said he’d call our hostel. He got someone on the phone and then handed it to me. The guy I spoke with said they were unable to get us since it was a holiday, Easter, and that we should take a cab. Mistake number two, believing that I was actually talking to the hostel.

Our super friendly taxista then led us to a car and helped us with our bags. We got in and started driving. BIG GIANT MISTAKE NUMBER THREE!!! We did not ask the fare before getting in the car. Always ask the fare before entering a cab. We know this. Blame it on tiredness; blame it on being too trustworthy, either way we were now fully engaged in the Coastal Hustle with no real opportunity of backing out of the dance. The fare, which he had written down on an official looking card, was three times what it should have been. The area around the Lima airport is notoriously dangerous, and getting out of the cab after midnight was not an option. He dropped us at our hostel and sped away as quick as could be. The girl at the hostel was surprised to see us, as our driver was still waiting for us at the airport.

Lawyer? Hustler? Is there a difference?

Also typical of the Coastal Hustle is the Coastal Hand Off. You are dealing with someone who is “helping” you, and all of a sudden you are handed off to a new partner. At first you may be confused, wondering if you’d been with this person all along. Trust your instincts, the hand off is a classic hustle move. At the end of the hand off you will have paid more for the service of being transferred to another human. If someone is doing something for you that you are perfectly capable of doing yourself, you have likely been handed off.

Adolfo was a sweet Coastal Hustler who started as our taxi driver in Ica and effortlessly handed us off to a hostel in Huacacina. He kindly signed us into our room, got the key and showed us the way. We paid much more that night than we did the next, for the same accommodations. Was it an Easter holiday surcharge or the Coastal Hustle? Probably it was a bit of both. He made up for it by giving us a good deal on transportation to Nazca. Hustlers aren’t necessarily bad people; they’re just trying to make an extra buck or ten.

Future Hustler?

Then there is the Mountain Hustle. This dance is slower, it unwinds at such a pace that you never feel like anything out of the ordinary is going on. The Mountain Hustle has two main components that should help you recognize it

The male lead will be calm and firm, assuring you that your plans will not work, but that he can help you. This often unfolds when inquiring about local buses, whose time frames are made to be seen as unpredictable so that you will pay more for a transfer van or a guided tour.

The female lead will use incessant flowery language and a soft voice to entice you to dance. We witnessed this on the floating reed islands of Uros, near Puno on Lake Titicaca. Here the women selling crafts practically whisper. “Amiga, amiga, don’t you like this? We survive on these crafts, we make them here on our island”, she said, with a pained look in her eye begging for sympathy and cash. And oh how we caved, and purchased a wall hanging for more than double the cost of the EXACT same one we saw later back in Puno.

Now that you know what the hustle looks like, let’s learn how to dance. This is a disco, so you pretty much shake your hips at all times. Are you shaking them? Come on…really move here!

Don’t forget your dancing shoes!

First, step backwards for eight counts, and then step forward for eight counts. When someone approaches you trying to get you to buy or do something, avoidance often works. Just hang back, wait, try not responding at all or pretend to be paying attention to something else. They will get bored and walk away.

Next do the rolling grapevine to the right for four counts (IE: spin right), followed by the rolling grapevine to the left, also four counts. Walk away. Learn to snake through a crowd without making eye contact.

Do the Travolta for eight counts. Well, if you really did the Travolta while someone was trying to scam you, they’d probably get scared and walk off. Acting crazy is great self-defense.

The eggbeater for two, the chicken for two…be direct. Be firm. Look them in the eye and stand your ground.

Then take one step forward: take control before the hustle starts. Ask local vendors or your hostel how much cab rides or certain items should cost.

One step back: If you start walking away after refusing a price for something, the price almost always starts dropping.

One step sideways: It’s like looking the other way. I’ve started wearing headphones and listening to music everywhere I walk in Cusco. It has eliminated 70% or more of the people trying to hustle me on the streets. If you try this, remember to look around more. Cars in South America typically don’t care too much about pedestrian right of way.

Then take a quarter turn left, and…repeat, probably for as long as you are here!

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Peru: A Photographic Journey Part 2, Nazca and Arequipa

The journey continues, headed south from Ica to a flight over the Nazca lines.  Supposedly these ancient desert glyphs were created between 400 and 650 AD. Scientists say that due to the arid nature of the environment and the lack of wind these are able to survive.  Most of the lines are only 10 to 15 cm deep. When the reddish top rocks are removed they contrast with the lighter colored earth beneath, allowing the lines to be visible. The soil under is heavy in lime which solidifies with the morning mists, allowing the lines to harden and preserve. Hmmm, I am admittedly skeptical.  I spoke with one Peruvian who believes they do “clean” the lines at times.  This seems more reasonable.  Then there is the debate over whether they are remnants of the Nazca culture, or alien landing strips.  We may never know, but at least it makes for some fun conversations.

The long straight lines were created with basic surveying equipment, evidenced by wooden stakes found at the ends of some of the lines.

Can you see the alien on the hill?

If you’re happy and you know it…

It’s a bit hard to get good pictures of the lines from the small airplane that flew us over the desert, but those were the best.

Now, on to Arequipa, the second largest city in Peru. Arequipa is also known as the White City for the white stone used to construct many of its buildings. The snow capped volcano El Misti lies in its background. We visited the Santa Catalina Monastery which is really like a huge walled city within the city. It used to house predominately wealthy nuns and a lot of servants. Now only a handful of nuns remain and the rest is open to the public.

This is their laundry room. Water flows through the center part and a stone is used to divert flow into a bowl for washing.

The bright colored walls (don’t lean on them, it comes off!) and flowers were gorgeous.

A typical kitchen:

Artistic doors of Arequipa:

Everyone needs a couple of pet peacocks:

Alpaca grazing in a little park in the city center:

View of the courtyard of the monastery turned hostel we stayed at:

The rooftops of Arequipa reminded me of Mexico, unfinished yet often used as outdoor living spaces where dogs and cats play.

Next up is a visit to the Colca Canyon, one of the deepest in the world, for an incredible trek. Stay tuned and thanks for visiting!

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Peru, A Photographic Journey Part 1

Side note: For those of you who had questions in response to my last post, I’ve created a new page. Look up. See it? It’s called ‘Answers’. Go ahead and click on it to read my responses. Three people asked questions, anyone else curious? I hope so!

While I’m working on the next article, I thought you might enjoy a journey through Peru. While Chile was jaw-droppingly (I think it should be a word) gorgeous, Peru is pure magic and energy. The adjective that comes to mind most is raw. Now that I’m settled in, I love it here. I’m going to bring you along with me, in the way that I saw it. Are you ready? (And how nice that YOU won’t be needing that Cipro!)

Miraflores, Lima, Peru:

I was only here for one night and part of one day. Miraflores translates to “look flowers”, and there were plenty to see. It’s really a lovely part of Lima.

Rooftop cactus garden:

This is the Parque del Amor, next to the ocean:

Notice the letters on his back pocket?

That’s right, V.D. in the Park of Love! Go figure.

Headed South, the next stop was Huacacina, close to Ica for dune buggies and sand boarding. Sadly, no pictures of the sand boarding since I didn’t want to ruin my camera (or have proof that I only went down on my belly like a scared little girl). Ooops, wasn’t supposed to tell you that…

Huacacina is a little oasis tucked inside some massive sand dunes. Dune buggies are the most prevalent vehicles on the road. It’s a pretty little spot, highly prone to young people partying. Aside from the sand boarding and close by Nazca lines, there isn’t much happening in Huacacina unless you just want to get drunk and sit in the sun.


This little guy lived at our hostel:

Mototaxis are a cheap, easy and fun way to navigate around town in Peru:

Up next, the Nazca lines. Ancient Incan mystery? Alien landing strip? Giant hoax? You decide…

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What do YOU want to know?

Judging by my friendly statistics page that wordpress gives me, I estimate that around 60 people regularly read this blog and around 40 more stop by occasionally. Thank you, by the way. I am honored that you are reading it! What I want to know is, what do YOU want to know? My goal for this post is 20 responses…so only a third of you regular readers need bother to comment. More would be fantastically awesome! Just enter a comment to this post and ask me ANYTHING! Seriously, anything goes. I will promise to answer honestly. You can ask about me, my travels, the world in general, whatever you like. Want free advice? Ask away, I’ll do my best to make it good.

Note: If you go deep and start asking me questions about astrophysics, advanced chemistry or the mating habits of lesser known marsupials I will have to defer to someone with a broader knowledge base than me. Let’s be reasonable people, and thanks for playing along!

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Democracy and Asados in Chile

Patricio Lanfranco, known by some as the Ambassador to the Dwarfs of Tinquilco (well, by me anyway), is one of those people who constantly surprises. He reminds me of one of those Russian dolls, or certain boxes, which you open only to find another tucked inside, and another inside that, and so on. Only as his layers peel back he instead grows larger.

I spent a privileged month in his company, discovering some of the complexities of this man, his beliefs and his country. He was an active opponent of the Pinochet regime, a government responsible for one of the darkest periods in Chile’s history. He is a documentary filmmaker who, among many other projects, has worked with PBS to produce the film ‘The Judge and the General’ which followed the trial of Pinochet. He has been a professional musician, is a master in the kitchen, and at the dinner table with a bit of Pisco, he is a storyteller as well.

This is one of my favorite stories that he told:

One summer there was a girl staying in Tinquilco who developed a bond with lamb. An asado (barbeque typical of Chile and Argentina) was being planned, and the featured dish was to be cordero. The girls lamb was the leading contender for the feast. She was excited for the asado until she found out what it meant for her furry friend. So Patricio said “This is a Democracy, and here the people have a say. If you don’t think there should be an asado, all you have to do is get the votes of the people invited. If the majority does not want the asado, we won’t have one. My vote, by the way, is for the asado!”

Armed with her new power, the girl set out asking people to join her cause. She presented the issue as such: “Do you want this lamb I’ve been playing with all summer to die?”

She collected her votes and not surprisingly, no one wanted the lamb to die. Presenting her tally to Patricio with pride, he immediately smelled a fraud. There were people on the list whom he knew would never turn down an asado. Discovering her method of polling, he explained to her that this was unfair and an invalid vote. She had to go and ask the real question. Do the people want to have this lamb for an asado?

The results the second time around were considerably different, the asado was on. The little girl and her lamb had lost.

What do you think? Is this a perfect representation of Democracy? Where in its pure form all the information is presented to the people and they get to choose, while in reality, facts are skewed to present a picture that sways people to one side if they are not careful enough to question further? This cunning little girl may have a bright, or dark as the case may be, political career ahead of her.

Patricio in the kitchen at Tinquilco:

I hiked with a couple awesome ladies for over 17K to a place with hotsprings. We stayed with Glady and her family, and it happened to be a friends birthday the next day. We were invited to join in their celebratory asado. You can’t get more local and organic than this! If I ate meat, I would have been as excited as my friends were.

Preparations for an asado:

Before:

After:

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Hippies, Hiking, and Happiness

El Bolson, Argentina

I stepped off the bus in El Bolson and was greeted by azure skies. Drumbeats floated through the warm afternoon air, landing sweetly in my ears. I have no maps or guidebooks for Argentina, so I show up in every town essentially blind. Not knowing what direction to go for tourist information, camping, or even the town center I decided to just follow the music. This led me to the central plaza and the festivities that mark the end of Carnival. The crowd of drummers was preceded by women of all ages dressed in white, hips gyrating to the beat and wide smiles across their faces as they danced around the plaza.

Every night in the same plaza there was some entertainment to be found. Families gathered on the grass and sidewalks to watch clowns perform, musicians play guitar and jugglers tossing clubs in the air. Time spent in any restaurant in the evenings would bring its share of entertainment as well. Artists would stroll in, remove a violin or guitar from a case and play a few songs before moving on. If music and performance is not your thing, this is also the town of Herman the Creep fame. I feel certain that if he had stuck around, he would try to fondle you too.

I spent a week here, hiking in the hills and wandering around the many farms, mostly organic, that roll along the valley floor.

This particular farm included an organic dairy with delicious cheese, apple trees and berries.

Incredible hiking was all within either a short bus ride or walking distance from town.



Crossing rivers can sometimes be treacherous…I considered swimming over taking these “bridges”, parts of which had to be jumped to avoid the areas where the wood had fallen away. Comforting…

but the hikes were worth it, every time. You can’t beat fern carpets,

wild fuchsias,

and gorgeous views.

It was hard not to just stop here and consider myself home.

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Dear readers…

You are still there aren’t you? I sure hope so…

I’m sorry I have been neglecting you lately, I have been trying for many days to post and with slow internet connection cannot upload any photos. It’s no fun without photos right?! I promise to either get this working somehow, or write something so fabulous that it won’t even need pictures! Wow, that’s a lot of pressure…but I will try…! Thanks for waiting. (You are going to wait for me right? I mean, we have such a good thing going, it would be sad to let a little technological problem get in the way, don’t you think?)

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