Each of the past two Sundays I have spent the majority of my day experiencing first-hand major aspects of Peruvian culture. Each Sunday has been quite enjoyable although very different and have helped me more firmly grasp any Peruvianess I have developed over the past 1.75 months. Last Sunday was a day of futbol (that's soccer for all you Americans), which consisted of my family taking myself along with a group of friends to the local Cienciano game. Cienciano or CC is the only 1st Division (highest division) futbol team in Cuzco which means that everyone in the city goes nuts for the CC Reds. Although I had written my Junior Thesis at Wooster about race and class relations on the Peruvian futbol pitches I had never actually attended a professional game, and wow was I unprepared. Let me preface everything I am about to explain that in comparison to what I have read about the futbol games in Lima, Peru as well as in Argentina, Chile and various countries in Europe, the Cienciano game seemed pretty tame.
When we arrived at the stadium, a 5 minute taxi drive from my house, the streets were shut off like Yawkey Way and Lansdowne St. and people lined the curbs selling an uncountable number of CC jerseys, hats, flags, and various other souvenirs, my parents will be happy to know that I didn't blow the majority of my money on any of it. As we got closer to the stadium my Dad started having quick conversations with various women who were wandering around the outer walls. At first I thought, hey my Dad is a really friendly guy, he has so many friends, but then it quickly became apparent that he was arguing with each woman trying to get a cheaper price for the tickets we were about to buy off the street, I mean why simply walk over to the ticket booth when you can haggle your way to a few soles cheaper. Of course being a pro at the Peruvian form of hustling, my Dad found one woman who was willing to sell us good seats for 15 soles a piece (about $6). With our tickets in hand we entered the stadium and sat on our cement benches ready to watch some futbol. By the time the game had actually started I had been offered countless cups of jello, a fact my friends found quite hilarious, as well as various skewers of meat, a couple chicken sandwiches, pork rinds and popcorn. The vendors sold their goods to me as if I was sitting past Pesky Pole at Fenway but everytime I looked for a Fenway Frank or a bag of salty peanuts I found myself staring at chicken hearts or papas fritas in a bag.
Right before the players took the field to take their first shot at scoring a roar came from one end of the stands, thankfully quite a ways from us, and out of a tunnel emerged dozens of young men dressed in red, singing as loud as their voices could manage. When they had finally all finished bursting from their hiding spot I caught a glimpse of the enormous banner they were carrying with them, it read "FURIA ROJA" or "Red Fury". Once again I was experiencing in person something I had only read and studied about, a real "barra", a real futbol gang. Over the course of the match between Cienciano and Alianza Atletico I came to more completely understand the role of a "barra" in Latin American futbol, their job was simply to attempt to distract and harass the other players as well as the referees as much as possible while continuing to show their undying loyalty through song, chants and screams. Despite the fact that Cienciano took an early 2-0 lead with a penalty kick and and beautiful header, La Furia Roja continued to throw water balloons at the referees, patrolling police and the opposing goalie. The vicious hurling of water balloons seemed not to surprise any of the victims, telling a sharp-minded bystander like me that this was common practice. At the half La Furia Roja took a break from tormenting the visitors and set about buying drinks and snacks to refuel for the second half. I took similar action and went with two of my friends to find some soda or chips of some sort. What we found was simply more meat sandwiches and a number of sweaty men yelling "POLLO" or "CARNE" throughout the crowded room. Eventually I gave up looking for something to curb my hunger and instead turned to quench my other urge, the necessity to pee. I quickly found the "bathroom" and made my way to the trough where everyone seemed to be relieving themselves. As I stood there, minding my own business, keeping my eyes straight ahead like Men's Bathroom custom says, a little boy stepped up beside me and began to pee, only he was a little less accurate with his aim. Before I knew it I felt wet running down my right leg, I quickly analyzed the situation and decided to cut my bathroom break a bit short in order to avoid inevitable drowning. With a soaked right leg I dipped out of the bathroom, which had no sink, and made my way into the sun to drown. Now I would like to say that as a little kid I was a sharpshooter at the urinal but honestly I think that would probably be a lie, so I apologize to any men who are reading this that may have been splashed on by me over the years.
The second half of the game had little more to offer in terms of excitement than the first, Alianza Atletico looked like a pee-wee team and Cienciano put 2 more goals into the net. Cheering like a maniac every time a ball came close to going in was a lot of fun but I would have really liked to see some type of competition, not an absolute crushing. Either way I loved the atmosphere and watching La Furia Roja in their prime was quite a sight. I walked away from the game happy, pumped up, a bit more wet than when I arrived, but smiling none the less. The next 5 days passed without any real excitement, by the time the weekend came around I was ready for another cultural adventure. The first came when I woken up at 7:00am Saturday morning to go with my family to a local recreation center to play a few hours of volleyball with some family friends. Not thinking ahead, of course, and being beyond tired, I quickly threw on my basketball jersey and a pair of shorts and rushed out the door. Within a few hours of playing volleyball with the skills of an 8 year old I began to notice that my shoulders and neck were getting a bit red. After 3 hours I was back home and as I stood in front of the mirror shirtless it was hard to tell that I had ever taken my jersey off. From the shoulder down my arms as well as the front of my neck had turned bright red while the rest of my body was as white as ever.
Even now I am in immense amounts of discomfort and have turned to Advil and massive bottles of aloe to bury my pain. The next day, Sunday, didn't really help my physical discomfort, although mentally and aesthetically it was amazing. Sunday morning I was up at 7:30 to get in the car and begin what would be a 12 hour journey around Peru to various ancient ruins. Traveling from Saqsayhuaman to Pukapukara and then to Q'enqo and finally arriving at Ollantaytambo I spent countless hours climbing over countless stones, snapping pictures of enormous and perfectly shaped boulders and being forced to race up every set of stairs we came across simply for the enjoyment of my family. Each set of ruins seemed even more amazing and impossible to construct than the last and by the end I was thoroughly tired both physically from racing up and down stone steps as well as attempting to take in all of the beautiful sights that I came across. My sunburned ached the entire ride home but it didn't really matter because I was in and out of sleep the entire time and after about 45 minutes was met with the biggest portion of chicken, french fries, fried bananas, rice and fried cheese that I had ever witnessed...Supremo Pollo. A full stomach later we were back in the car and headed for home. Before we got back to Cuzco though we had to pass through dozens of pueblo "road blocks", I use quotations because these road blocks consist of various basketball sized boulders and tree trunks thrown into the middle of the road. One of the many things I've learned in this country is that "road blocks" like this are very common in small towns throughout the country. They are generally used as a type of protest, attempting to halt the trucks of foreign companies from getting to their mines or factories where they can exploit the towns natural resources and labor, it does not always work but it doesn't seem to stop towns from trying.
Of course these "road blocks" were not aimed at us, despite the gringo sitting in the front seat, so it was easy enough to find help moving the occasional boulder that could not be driven around. Also handy was the fact that Peru has no traffic laws or lane lines that are followed so most of the logs and rocks were simply avoided by swinging into the other lane or up onto the sidewalk, what a ride. Back at home I was greeted by a warm cup of tea, a bottle of aloe and a soft bed, it was almost too easy to fall asleep. By the next morning, although still uncomfortable and covered in raw skin, I could not help but finally fully realize how lucky I was to be in this country, where in 1 day I could see a large chunk of a 600 year old civilization, while still managing an enormous lunch/dinner. What a life I live!
alpaCasey
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