Homeward Bound 3.28.08
Isn't it always that way on a journey, that it is over so fast. In disbelieft that two months have passed, I sit on an airplane headed first for San Salvador and then another to Oakland.
It's Friday today and Monday as the plane left Cuzco in the distance, a few tears rolled down my cheeks. I had no idea that I would become so comfortable and at home in that Pueblo of Peru. It was hard to go back to Lima, the big city after life in Cuzco.
Through Tryphenawhom I encountered on the Inca TrailI met a family of very nice people, Pocolo, Elizabeth and their 3 children plus their extended family. Pocolo is in a group called Amuru Pumac Quntur, that plays Tribal, Incan fusion music with Djembes, flutes, sampoñas, digerie doo guitar and maybe more. I had a chance to dance to their music 3 times before I left Cuzco. Pocolos son who is 5 years old joined them on the stage playing a rattle as enthusiastically as his papa and apparently singing all of the words to the songs. It was an amazing sight to behold. Ancient around the edges.
Here is a picture of them, see if you can pick out Awky, the young boy.
The day before I left Cuzco, I joined them for their extended family Bar-B-Q. Below is a picture of us leaving Julian's house with the Temple of the Moon in the background (which happens to be in his back yard.) We had to walk a ways to catch a collectivo into town.
Here is Juan's daughter in the hammock.
Pocolo and Elli share a shop on Calle Procuadores full of their handcrafts and those of friends. I gave them my CDs Gratitude and Blessinway Songs. One evening when I was sitting there with Elli, there was a German man asking what was this music he was listening to, so tranquilla, such a good vibe. It was the Blessingway CD. Another time I was in Plaza de Armas and suddenly got pulled to their tienda. When I walked in I received an exhuberant welcome by Elli and 2 guys from Israel. They had been there earlier and heard Gratitude and Elli told them about Copperwoman. They were wondering if they would have a chance to meet me when I made my grand entrance into the store. The favorable response that they were receiving from my music thrilled me and I will be sending them CDs to sell.
It is interesting that there are hardly any women musicians in Peru. Most of the music is made by the men. I look forward to going back and jamming with the Cuzcanians.
If I hadn't been convinced about returning to Cuzco, the last week of my stay surely did the job. Funny how that happens. It took that long to connect and start to feel like I have family there. I am so grateful. Not only did I grow to feel at home because of these people, but in so many other ways, did my comfort level rise.
There was one particular day at the market that so many of the women asked me where I was from and where I was staying in Cuzco. They began to recognize me and probably started to wonder if I had taken residence. Even though I never got to the point where I could follow a conversation between Musi and her many friends, I did manage to have conversations of my own in simple Spanglish and gesture talking. On some occasions I didn't even need to point out that I spoke and understood poquito (very little). I could carry on simple conversations with the Taxi driver or the mamacha with her goods for sale.
There are so many tales to tell and I shall talk about what is foremost in my mind. One day as I was crossing the plaza, this old woman came up to me as if I were here long lost friend. We walked hand-in-hand and she had her plastic bags of goods for sale. "Compra mi," "buy from me." Well, let's see what you have. We went and settled down on the steps and she opened her bag and pulled out a doll. Well, I already had several, but surely I was going to buy from her. "Conta cuesta," I asked, "how much?" Five soles, sure. After paying her for the doll, I asked if I could take her picture, so she sat on the step with the doll and posed. After that she wanted me to take one of both of us together, splendid idea. I set the timer and posed with her and below you see the results of both.
I sent this picture to my mom saying I found grandma, but she said grandma's face wasn't so scrunched up. But somehow, I feel connected to this old Peruvian grandma even so. I was telling Musi about her and she knew just who I was talking about. They had already had a similar experience. She even knows her name which I can't remember right now. And I can't ask Musi as I left her behind in Lima. She will be staying until April 5.
By the way, Musi has decided to build a house on her comadre's land in Pisac. So it will be easy to visit in the future and she will be happy to have the company.
It was harder to find the time to post to this TravelBlog. Too busy living life in Cuzco.
And actually, here I am back home, it's already April 15 and I am finally posting this final Blog. Pass it on.