Wonderdogs and Fiestas - A Peruvian Adventure

There was something terrifying and exhilarating about wandering in a strange land. Of course the terror was substantially lowered as the number of people in the group grew. 

It was a Saturday night in Peru, the first Becca had truly experienced (discounting her first because she was in a retreat center, going to sleep early). Having received invitation to not one, but two parties, Becca was feeling pretty good, but over the course of the night she learned three very important things about her new homeland.

1. The dogs are not your friends (but there are some exceptions - like Becca’s three dogs: Napoleon, Dunca, and Carmelo, but they were really more like hijos than perros)
2. Peruvian dancing is sometimes just walking in a circle with rhythm and but mostly they’re complicated steps that look much easier than they actually are.
3. Most cobrador(a)s* are helpful but when they aren’t the passengers are extra helpful

As Becca and her friends walked to the first party, the birthday of her friend, Lily’s host brother, they noticed the vast number of dogs in Huascaran. In the late afternoon sun, they seemed to be fairly relaxed. By the time they reached the party, were handed a cerveza and started dancing, the dogs were far from their minds. 

Dancing consisted of moving along with the music in small movements usually with interesting footwork. It wasn’t long before Becca found herself dancing the night away to songs in both English and in Spanish. Lily’s host brother, Marcus, loved drinking, dancing, smoking, and laughing which made for a more than interesting time. He showed them an interesting dance where the group really just slowly walks in a circle with some amount of rhythm. He also showed a great affinity for fist pumping.

After a lot of dancing, a little drinking, and a wonderful dinner compliments of Lily’s host mom, the girls decided to go to another fiesta this one in Tres de Octubre. They ventured out together and chatted in the cool night air as they walked. But after a few minutes of walking, they began to notice a trail of street dogs behind them, none of them looking all too friendly. When the first dog barked, a fierce German Shepard, the others began and it wasn’t long before the girls found themselves huddled together watching as the number of growling angry dogs increased. 

Just as Becca was certain they’d end up as street dog dinner, another dog appeared, this one fluffy, white and almost gleeful. He instantly began barking as well but not at the girls. In seconds he had chased the approaching dogs away from the girls and carved a safe path for them. Somewhat relieved, the girl continued forward and the white dog led them, cheerfully jumping in front of them. As they passed each house, the angry dogs around the property began to bark and growl, but each time this happened, the white dog would approach the property and chase the dogs back, keeping the road safe for the girls.

When they reached the main road, the angry dogs were no longer following them and the silence from barking seemed deafening. The white dog looked at them for a moment and then took off down the road to the right before they could even say thank you.

“I want that dog as my personal, full-time body guard,” Lily said and they all nodded in bewildered agreement. 

The rest of their trek to Tres de Octubre was uneventful; a combi ride and a somewhat confusing walk led them to the center where there was loud music, dancing, and the majority of their Cuerpo de Paz group. 

The girls mingled with their friends for a while and watched some of the dancing, but most of their fellow party-goers seemed to be either tired or drunk. While the Peruvians looked calm and collected as they danced, when Becca watched their feet, she noticed that their footwork and rhythm was amazing. They made it look so easy but when Becca tried to copy the dances, her feet simply didn’t speak the language. 

Around eleven, they all began to feel the effects of a long week and headed toward home. They found the main road easily enough and even managed to find enough soles for everyone to ride home on the combi. When they got on the combi, one of the girls told the cobradora that they needed to get off at the main park in Chaclacayo, but as they passed building after building and stop after stop, they became fairly certain she had failed to help them reach their destination. About ten minutes west of Chaclacayo, one of the girls asked the cobradora about it and after some confusion one of the other passengers helped them off the combi and directed them to the stop across the street so they could turn around and get back to Chaclacayo. 

This time, when the girls entered the comb, they made it very clear that they needed to get off at the park in Chaclacayo, no further. The cobrador was very helpful and when the girls nearly got off at the wrong stop (more out of anxiety than understanding), the other passengers and the cobrador stopped them from getting off, making sure they made it safely to their stop.

After a very long day, Becca plopped down on her bed and slept like the dead, dreaming of wonderdogs and fiestas.

*A cobrador/cobradora is the person who stands at the door of the combi (small bus) and opens the door, rushes people on and off, takes fare money and sometimes calls the stops. Combis do not necessarily have regular stops and routes...