28 October 2008 South of the Border - Down Peru Way Part V

South of the Border - Down Peru Way - Part V
October 28, 2008

I spent most of the day on June 25th traveling by luxury tour bus from Cusco to Puno.

Puno is a good sized town on the shores of Lake Titicaca at elevation 12,700 feet. It is known as the folklore capital of Peru. It is famous for its two weeklong festival "Fiesta de la Candelaria" where thousands of people wearing colorful costumes and masks compete in folk dancing competitions.

In June the days are dry, sunny, and the nights are cold - around 20F. Luckily I had my Canadian Gore-Tex jacket that although it appears to be nothing more than a heavy windbreaker is comfortable down to 15F (as long as the humidity is low).

Lake Titicaca is the largest fresh water navigable body of water in the world. It is on the border of Bolivia and Peru. I was fascinated by Lake Titicaca from the first time that I heard of it during my fourth year of grammar school back in Connecticut. Now I was going there!

The sky was brilliant blue and the bus traveled a well built road that followed along the banks of a fast flowing river. We traveled across an area known as the "Alto-Plano" (High Plains).

The Alto Plano has free ranging herds of alpacas and llamas. It is very sparsely populated. It was an area where the Shining Path Maoist guerrillas, Sendero Luminoso were active from the 1970's until 1997. Why - I have no idea! There are very few trees (At the risk of exaggerating I would say there are no trees on the Alto Plano). There are hardly any people and the ones that are there are extremely poor. They live in extremely small one room mud huts that are only about 6 feet tall. They raise cattle and sheep. There is no electricity. I don't think that I would last more than three days out there.

After a long journey, we arrived in Juliaca, Peru. OH MY GOD!! Juliaca was the worst place that I have ever seen, up to then and even as of today. It was worse than anything I saw in Algeria. It was absolutely frightening. My advice is to avoid it at all costs. There are 400,000 people living there in absolute squalor. According to the Tour Guide, and not reputed by anything that I saw, the city is full of thieves and has a thriving black market in stolen goods.

The streets are very narrow with row upon row of 1-1/2 story unfinished mud buildings.

Leaving them unfinished, essentially remaining perpetually under construction, delays the requirement to pay property taxes on them.

Unfortunately for me, after my stay in Puno I had to return to Juliaca to catch a flight back to Lima.

I arrived in Puno at 6:00 PM. After a great meal in a local restaurant that had a very welcomed wood burning oven in the corner, it was a welcomed time to sleep.

The next day was very sunny and was a great day. The Port of Puno is very polluted with algae and human turds. It definitely did not live up to my expectations of what Lake Titicaca would be like. I was on a small tour boat headed out for the day to visit the Floating Islands of Uros and Taquile Island. I stayed outside, sitting atop the passenger compartment roof, the entire trip out to the floating islands. It was very brisk and refreshing. I wanted the full experience of Lake Titicaca and did not want to be insulated by walls, windows, soft seats and heat.

Uros are floating reed islands. People live on the islands that they build by adding tortora reeds to them daily. Of course they had things to sell to tourists. I stayed atop the boat roof and got some good photos. Our boat ended up getting stuck in the reeds and mud. The local people had to come out and help extract our boat. I got a nice picture of the native women watching us getting pulled out of the mud. Every picture has a story to tell and that one certainly did. We traveled about two hours to Taquile Island.

Taquile Island is renowned for its weaving. It has been inhabited for over 10,000 years. There are about 1,200 people living there now - weaving and knitting alpaca wool. They use unusual and intricate designs in their work. The inhabitants are considered to be among the best weavers in the Andes mountains. To reach the heart of the island, you have to climb 525 steep stone steps up from the dock - there are also similar brutal steps to go down. Both are bad, but I prefer to go up rather than down. Perhaps it is the excitement of anticipation that makes the required effort more tolerable.

The island is semi-arid and it reminded me a great deal of pictures of Greece. Along the trail to the center of the island, we encountered herds of sheep. The local residents wear different clothing from what I had seen previously in Peru. The men wore very decorative and colorful belts, white shirts, and nice intricate colored hats (ski toque style). Women wore big multi-layered dark skirts and dark simple shawls. The women were constantly tending their babies or using drop spindles to produce thread.

Once we got to the heart of Taquile, we had a very nice lunch. I became a tourist and bought some textiles from the local commune shop. On the way to the departure dock, I shot a nice picture of two men standing in their doorway knitting. One man was wearing a knitted hat exactly like the one I had just purchased.

On our return trip to Puno we were joined by three Taquile women and one baby. It was very entertaining to watch them drop spin and care for the baby. Since it was winter, the sun set early. I sat on the roof to watch the sun set over Lake Titicaca - very spectacular and colorful but cold. As I was returning my thoughts were of someday returning to rent a boat and explore the other islands and distance shores that were not part of this tour.

There is always some other distant shore, hidden valley, new place, exotic culture or local people to be experienced. They cannot all be experienced in a lifetime but to the extent that we can, I believe, the richer we become.

South of the Border - Down Peru Way - Part IV
October 27, 2008

I spent Monday 23 June in Cusco attending what must be the world record of parades.

After the outdoor Mass on the Cathedral steps, the parade commenced at 10:00 AM.

Every government department, village association, and other organization was marching and dancing. Each group had a small band associated with them. The bands all play the same special song - over and over. It was very hypnotic.

I watched the parade from 10:00 AM until 9:00 PM with only two breaks to return to the hostal to leave my jacket and then to get my jacket. It got cold very quickly at the high altitude of the city.

I went to bed at 10:00 and the parade was still going on. Later I found out that the parade finished at 1:00 AM.

Tuesday was the third and final leg of this "Trifecta" - "Inti-Raymi", Festival of the Sun. Inti-Raymi is the annual reenactment of the Inca Sun Ceremony. The reenactment has been taking place since 1944 after being banned for almost 400 years.

Inti Raymi is held in honor of the god "Inti" marks the winter solstice, and a new Andean year. During Inca times, the festival was one of the four most important ceremonies celebrated in Cusco. The ceremony celebrated the mythic origins of the Inca people. It went on for nine days comprised of parades, dancing, and animal sacrifices to ensure good crops in the future.
I walked down to Koriconcha through the packed streets with several other guests from the hostal. Koriconcha was the Inca "Sun Temple". It was destroyed by the Spanish conquerors. The Spanish completed the Santo Domingo church atop the remaining Inca stone work in 1654. Koriconcha is renowned for the quality of its stone work. It is not possible to put a razor blade in the gaps between the stones.

There was a ceremony at Koriconcha in which fire was started using sunlight. It was an impressive spectacle. After the reenactment concluded we walked to the Plaza de Armas. The entire square was vacant and roped off. There were thousands of people outside of the rope perimeter - half of them trying to sell something. We had a good group - we looked after each other and set up defensive circles against pick pockets. There was another ceremony at the Plaza. We watched some of the ceremony from the elevated balcony of a restaurant.

We walked up the hills to where all the tour buses were parked. The area must have been where all the marchers from the previous day's parade had partied. The streets reeked of urine. The smell was overwhelming. I remarked "They said that the streets of America were paved with gold. What do you think the streets of Cusco were paved with?" My two new English buddies, Kirk and Colin, shot back "Piss, mate!" We all had a good laugh.

We boarded our bus and picked up our box lunches. The lunches were huge and very good. There were cut up carrots, broccoli, and green beans - partially cooked to make them nice to eat. In the box lunch there were also four bite sized bits of chicken wrapped up with ham and bacon, a cheese sandwich, a ham sandwich, an orange, bottle of water, and Inca Energy Bar, and a package of saltines. We ended up trading components of our lunches amongst each other - just like school children. It was a lot of fun and the food was delicious. It took an hour to drive up the crowded streets to Sachsyhuama (pronounced as "Sexy Woman") the site of the big ceremony. Local people were driving up the streets in dilapidated cars with 8 to 10 people per vehicle. The trucks were in just as bad a state. It was quite a site - very festive.

Around Sachsyhuama, the locals had taken over the countryside. They were having picnics and tailgate parties. In fields that had been recently been plowed, the people took the clods of earth and built little ovens in which they were cooking potatoes.

We had great reserved seats for the pageant. There was music and dancing throughout the incantations in the Quecha language. There was a reenactment of sacrificing a llama. It was so realistic that one of our group's men threw up when the heart was lifted to the Sun.

The show was spectacular and lasted at least 4 hours - there was never an opportunity to become bored. After the show I and some others decided to walk down to Cusco rather than take the one hour bus ride down. BIG MISTAKE.

Thousands of people were going down the hill and were being channeled into two narrow stairways. It was shoulder to shoulder, butt to butt mass of people. It reminded me a great deal of the time of the near panic that I had been involved in exiting the futbol stadium in Curitiba, Brasil. The situation was a disaster waiting to happen. You could hardly see your feet. We stuck together and kept telling each other where the steps were. By the time that we realized what we were into, it was too late to turn back. At one point, I took a small group of people off to the side to let some of the madness pass by. Twice we had to climb down a gully and cross a sewerage filled stream. Eventually we made it back - safe and sound (no man or woman left behind)

After freshening up, I had dinner and some drinks with Colin and Kirk - a great way to conclude a great day.

I wanted to see three events on this trip and all three ended up exceeding my expectations. I was now entering bonus time of my trip - on to Lake Titicaca

!

26 October 2008 South of the Border- Down Peru Way Part III

South of the Border - Down Peru Way - Part III
October 26, 2008

I got up at 5:00 AM on June 23, 2003 and skipped breakfast in order to catch the first bus up the mountain to Machu Picchu. I was not able to skip the bathroom though - time for more Imodium.

Got up to the entrance to the ruins and went to the bathroom once again. There was a bright side to this. Because it was so early the price for entering the bathroom was 1.00 N.S. rather than the 1.50 N.S. for primetime.

I climbed partly towards Inti-Punti (Gate of the Sun). I had climbed all the way to the Gate on my previous trip so I was familiar with the best viewing areas along the way. I set up and prepared to photograph the sunrise over the Temple of the Sun in a very nice flat terrace along the trail. High clouds prevented the sun from casting its shadow at the appointed spot at the Temple of the Sun for the Winter Solstice. The Temple of the Sun was packed with people. I could hear the conch shell horn blowing, and the chanting of the people.

It was magical to watch the sunrise over this mystical historical site. After many years of reading about Machu Picchu and the significance Winter Solstice, I was there to see for myself. As it got brighter, the birds got louder. I took some terrific photos - I hoped and thought. When I finished the roll of film, it took very little effort to rewind the film. It was a problem - the film had not been loaded correctly in the camera. The roll had not been exposed - no pictures! Fortunately the morning was salvaged - I had also been using my new digital camera. Those photos were fine.

Spent the remainder of the morning witnessing a spiritual ceremony conducted by a native shaman at a small site along the trail. He was performing the ceremony along with some Native Americans who were on a spiritual tour. This was an organized tour so that Native American spiritual leaders and shaman could bond with their South American brothers. It was very interesting - a great deal of chanting and symbolism. I had requested permission to photograph but it was not given. I believe I may have shocked the Peruvian shaman because I put away my camera gear, sat on the rocks, and spent the next 1-1/2 hours watching the ceremony. When he completed, the Americans left. He was going to take the sacred packet up to the sacred mountain and leave it there as an offering to the gods. Through pantomime he invited me to accompany him for the trek up the mountain. Unfortunately I was hot and tired so I declined. I regret that decision - it was a unique and special opportunity that I wasted. Perhaps the conclusion of the ceremony was a human sacrafice so I may have made the right decision. (just joking)

When I got back to Cusco, there was a fireworks display. It was great. Fireworks were shot over the main square (Plaza de Armas) from atop the surrounding hillsides.

Sunday 23 June was a gorgeous day - sunny without a cloud in the sky. There I was in Cusco Peru thousands of miles from my home in California and I ended up on a small tour bus with a guy from Martinez (10 miles from my home) and another guy from Sacramento (50 miles from my house) This novelty was not the strangest coincidence of my travels.

After completing my assignment in Algeria, I returned to the United States and started working for a new company in Concord, California. It turned out that one of the women who worked for the company was married to the Algerian who operated the small coffee cart in the lobby of the building. That was not the coincidence. The coincidence was that when I met her husband, we determined that I knew his brother-in-law back in Algeria!

Back in Peru on the bus - we drove to the market in Pisac (Pisaq) which is located in the Sacred Valley of the Incas. This market is a great locaation to photograph native people going about their normal activities -IF you walk past all of the tourist centered booths and stalls. The real market is at the far end - away from the bus parking lot.

I bought an ear of freshly cooked corn on my way back to the bus. The corn had huge kernels and was a little mealy. Even as I am writing this blog I can taste the sweetness of that corn.

There were not as many vegetables in the market as there had been in December. The harvest was just about completed. Sheaves were in the fields. Silage was stored atop raised platforms. I saw many more donkeys, and burros than the last visit. According to our guide, during the dry season the people concentrate on raising animals.

I saw fields being plowed with oxen and an old style plow - single metal blade in a wooden frame. The upturned soil is brilliant red and very rich looking. The people live a very pastoral life. Their life is so closely tied to the land and their animals - unlike ours

After lunch in Urabamba we stopped along the roadat hte "Inka Bar" to sample Chicha (corn beer). At the bar we learned how to drink it by first pouring the initial bit on the floor as an offering to "Pachumama" (Mother Earth or Earth Goddess). Most everyone poured the rest of their corn beer on the floor after their first sip. I drank two glasses the only person to do so.
The beer is made out of partially germinated corn, fermented, boiled and consumed. The leftover mash goes to cuy (guinea pigs) to fatten them up. The native people eat cuy on special occasions kind of like we eat turkey - only more rodent like.

Chicha tastes sour more than anything else. It is around 2% alcohol. When I told the guide that it tastes like corn that someone had partially chewed and spit into a bottle, he was impressed. The partially germinated corn is actually chewed by people to initiate the fermentation process! Thank God for the boiling step of the process!!

I had dinner at my favorite restaurant in Cusco. I had my favorite meal - alpaca - so cute and so tasty.

Every trip is an adventure. To the extent that we allow it, each trip can be a learning experience. I try not to have fear interfere from learning something or preventing a lifelong memory.

25 October 2008 South of the Border - Down Peru Way Part II

South of the Border - Down Peru Way Part II
October 25, 2008

After my night out on the town in Cusco, I boarded the early morning train on Friday 20 June 2003 to go to Machu Picchu. I wanted to be there for sunrise the next morning 21 June "Winter Solstice" at the Temple of the Sun.

Currently on Discovery Channel there is an episode where Josh Bernstein the archeologist treks through the jungle and crosses a dangerous river to get to Machu Picchu. Very dramatic. Very unnecessary- even people who hike the Inca Trail usually take the train part of the way. Josh may need to get a new travel agent or research better on the Internet how to get to places. Hopefully on his list of things that he would like for the Holidays are some guide books!! I'm only joking if it weren't for the drama of his travel, there wouldn't be much to the show.

The mountains along the way from Cusco to Machu Picchu were covered much more in snow than they were on my last trip in December. This is to be expected because Winter starts in June and Summer starts in December south of the Equator.

Upon arrival at Aguas Calientes, at the base of the mountain upon which Machu Picchu sits, there was TOO MUCH EXCITEMENT.

I was amongst a group that was giving their luggage to the Hostal Urpi representative. The rep was dealing with the Spanish speaking couple next to me. As it appeared that the agent was finished with them, the male Spanish speaking tourist started to shake like he was joking about how excited he was to be there and how the altitude was affecting him. It got worse real quick. No joking - the man was having a Grand Mal epileptic seizure. It was 9:30 AM - a hell of a way to start one's day.

His wife turned his head to the side when he collapsed on the floor. I yelled "Medico!" and told some man who was attempting to restrain the victim to let him be. If a person who is having a seizure is not endangering themselves with their flailing it is better to let them go rather than to restrain them. This victim was on a floor with nothing around him so non-intervention was appropriate. It could not have been more than two minutes later, a medical team was there with a medical kit

I verified with the Hostal representative that it was OK to leave my bag and to move on to the departure area for the bus up to Machu Picchu. The Tour Guide at the site was the same one that I had during the December visit. After we entered the complex, I left the group and went off on my own - been there, heard that, didn't need to hear it all again! He was very political and thank God I wasn't Spanish or I would have been really angry!

I toured the area until Noon when I went and had a great lunch at the restaurant "O Sancturio" just outside the entrance to the ruins. We had eaten there on the last trip. I swear they have the best Coca Cola in the world there. I don't know if it is the water, the elevation, some secret ingredient, or just the extreme thirst that you develop touring the ruins but their fountain cokes are awesome. Just like the previous visit, right after lunch I got the runs - 4 times. No problem - that is why I always carry Imodium. I decided not to push my luck and left the mountain top at around 3:15 PM.

I walked to the Hostal - far end of town in not the greatest of neighborhoods. I got my room - small but clean. What more could you want? Oh yeah - your luggage. Your luggage was supposed to be placed in your room by the Representative from the train station. I went downstairs and talked to the clerk - he knew nothing and didn't seem to want to know anything.

I figured that with all the confusion at the rail station, my bag might still be there. (Yeah - Right). Undeterred I walked back to the station - a long walk through the gauntlet of street vendors. The guard at the station would not let me in because I had not brought my ticket with me. A man who spoke Spanish came by and explained the situation to the guard. He did as well as I did - "No ticket, No entry". The nice man advised me to go back to the Hostal and return to the Railway station with the Manager. On my way back to the hotel, I got in the middle of a turf war.

A little boy and a little girl were throwing rocks at each other. The boy motioned me through the battleground and granted me safe passage. The little girl threw a rock from behind and hit me in the chin. I told the little boy to go get her good. A Tourist Policeman also took off after her.

I got back to the hotel and told the clerk that I wanted to speak with the Manager. He disappeared, returned, and said for me to wait awhile. I was not getting very happy. Another group came in and was speaking Portuguese. I explained my situation to the Tour leader in Portuguese so that he could translate into Spanish for the hotel clerk.

Right about then a woman came down the stairs from upstairs. She was obviously distressed and upset. She asked that the group clear a path to the doorway. It was the wife of the epileptic guy from the train station. I was starting to figure out and understand the situation - but I still didn't have my luggage. After awhile, four men came down with a stretcher with the unconscious epileptic guy on it with an IV attached to him. It was 4:45 PM - this had all started at 09:30AM!

One of the stretcher bearers was the hotel representative. He was apparently also the Manager. He returned and thankfully told me that my luggage was in their luggage room. Had dinner and had to use the bathroom 4 more times - time for more Imodium.

Witnessing the trauma of the Spanish man's situation was a reminder of how tentatively we hold on to the string of life. It was also a realization of how lucky we are to live our lives without having life threatening conditions hanging over our heads.

24 October 2008 South of the Border - Down Peru Way

South of the Border - Down Peru way
October 24, 2008

Today while continuing my efforts to unpack, store and file away my papers, I found one of my journals. This journal contained entries from my last trip to Machu Picchu.

Since my blog has pretty much been focused on SE Asia and Buddhism rites as well as rituals, I thought that for a change I would write about South America.

I first went to Machu Picchu for Christmas 2001. I was working in Brasil and we had a long holiday. As a child I had read and heard about the Lost City of the Incas. I longed to travel to the wondrous places that I read about and discussed in school back in Groton, Connecticut. I never imagined that someday I would have the opportunity or inclination to actually visit those places.

My first visit to Machu Picchu was with my wife. It was a great trip and may be subject of a future blog. I do distinctly remember that I left regretting not having taken photographs of the porters on the Inca trail.

The Inca trail porters are native people who have a very distinct appearance. They are very short and muscular. They wear colorful clothing. Their faces reflect their environment as well as their work. Over centuries of living and laboring at the high altitudes of the Andes, their skin is dark and leathery while their noses are very large apparently to better warm the cold mountain air before entering their lungs. On the first trip I saw them but never took a photographed them.

We returned to Brasil and over the course of the next few months I replaced my old 1976 Nikormat camera with a more modern Nikon F3HP along with longer focal length lenses. The seed had been planted and the excuse was available.

I returned to start a new job in the USA close to my home in the San Francisco Bay Area. I got the bright idea to return to Cusco, Peru for what I refer to as the "Trifeccta".

In June 2003, three of Cusco's biggest events occurred within a two week period - "Feast of the Corpus Christi", "Inti-Raymi" (reenactment of Inca celebration), and the Winter Solstice at Machu Picchu (shortest day of the year). Now that I had a new camera I could go back and photograph the Inca porters too.

One trip to Machu Picchu was enough for my wife so I proceeded on this adventure on my own.

After spending a short night in Lima upon my arrival from Miami, I flew to Cusco arriving on the morning of June 18th. That afternoon was the first parade of the Corpus Christi (Body of Christ) Festival. Unbelievable! Each Roman Catholic church (there are not too many others) has its patron saint's statue paraded through the main square (Plaza de Armas) to the cathedral. Each statue was on a throne carried by "special" people.

The "special" people are the men of that parish, who the previous week had climbed the sacred mountain, Ausungate, and returned with sacred ice from around 15,000 feet elevation.
The effigies of the saints are kept in the Cathedral so that they can communicate and reenergize their powers. This festival was instituted by the Spanish as a replacement for the Inca tradition of parading ancestral mummies.

The parade was very high energy with brass bands, native costumes, colorful effigies, and many banners. A great opportunity for photographs and the first time that I used a digital camera.
I had expected Cusco to be filled with tourists but there are far fewer. This was a pleasant surprise. Cusco was not as crowded as it had been for Christmas

I had a rough night sleeping due to the altitude 3,500m, 11,500 feet). I had a headache and took two aspirin. Since I was working at a refinery and subject to random drug testing I dared not drink any of the coca tea or chew coca leaves that the local use to cope with the altitude. I had not been bothered on my previous trip but I was not working at a refinery then!

The next day, Thursday 19 June had scattered showers. There was a large outdoor Mass which started at 09:30 on the steps of the Cathedral. Prior to the Mass I had entered the Cathedral. It was awesome. All the statues were inside the main room. All the priests, Monks, Bishops, and Nuns were busy getting ready for the Mass. Along with the clergy, there were many ordinary people inside the Cathedral. It was extraordinary to witness how strong the Catholic faith is in Cusco.

The Cathedral looked great. Unlike the last time when I was there in December 2001, there was no scaffolding and it was very clean.

There was singing as part of the outdoor Mass - Bob Dylan's "Blowing In the Wind" and Simon & Garfunkle's "Sounds of Silence". The lyrics were in Spanish so I don't know if they were the same as the popular renditions of the songs.

After the Mass, there was another procession of the statues out of the Cathedral and around the Plaza de Armas that lasted until 3:30 PM.

The procession was very colorful, festive and interesting. The bands were typically comprised of two drums, one tuba, 4 trombones, 5 trumpets, and two clarinets. I found it very strange that one band escorting their patron saint played "The Marine's Hymn" That group was not even the group from "Marina" - so I still am unable to figure it out.

Another band played Stephen Foster's "My Old Kentucky Home", and "The Old Folks at Home" Strange- for sure.

That night, I heard hypnotic music. It was a lilting female voice singing Andean music - music that I love. I headed out to see what was going on. The music was coming from a side street where the hotel was located behind the Cathedral. Off of the side street was a little alley where a man was standing guard. As I turned the corner, I looked through a crack to see where the music was coming from. The guard asked if I wanted to go in. I said "Yes" and went in. I stumbled into a private party for one of the churches that had participated in the procession. The place was a school and the party was in an open courtyard. The band was set up on the balcony overlooking the courtyard.

I sat on the concrete steps, minded my own business, and enjoyed the music. I noticed a young girl to my left approximately 11 years old. I acknowledged her presence and returned my attention to what was going on in front of me. Soon the girl, who reminded me of my son's step daughter, was talking to me and offering me to sit in a chair on the ground level. I declined. It was obvious that this young girl was very intelligent and had that unbridled curiosity that youth and intelligence bring.

My conversations with her were causing some attention from the woman next to her. I determined that the woman was her grandmother. I introduced myself to her and told her not to worry. The grandmother seemed to appreciate it.

The next thing that I knew was one of the big shots of the organization, wearing a fancy blue and gold sash, came over to me and asked if I drank. I replied tthat I did a little. He left and went into a small room. Another man appeared out of the room and brought me a Cusqueno beer.

The little girl, Wendy, asked me about my vacation in Peru, where I lived, my family ... She was speaking in Spanish and I was speaking Portuguese - it worked well enough.
Everyone was enjoying themselves. Often they broke up into two large groups for round dancing. I am crazy for Andean music, so i was sitting there clapping and enjoying myself.
After awhile, Wendy's grandmother got up, grabbed me, and lead me to the middle of one of the dancing rings. That was it. I was now part of the group. Often I was in the middle of the circle, dancing in turns with all of the women. The men were all very friendly. When I got very winded after an especially long and energetic song, one of the men came over and showed me how to breathe in order to catch my breath. Toasts were flying left and right. The guard came over several times to give me the thumbs up sign. I drank only 3/4 of a beer but it was a hell of a good time.

The people were the local patrons who had organized and marched for Immaculata Concepcion De Linda Church. It was very nice and a unique experience. All ages were at the party.
Wendy pinned her religious decoration on me and later another woman pinned a beautiful religious decoration on my jacket as a souvenir of the night and to protect me on my journey.

It was very touching

A lifelong memory of faith, devotion, and kindness.