Caballo de Paso Peruano

Breakfast at Casa del Pinillos, fried sweet potato (like yam tempura but better), Pollo Tamales, and tasty sandwiches whose name I forget. Nestor graciously found us espresso style coffee. In the afternoon we were treated to quite a special opportunity. As luck would have it the annual National Horse Competition, “Caballo de Paso Peruano.”  was taking place at The Mamacona Exhibition Field in Pachacamac.  These are the famous Peruvian dancing horses we saw the tribute to in Barranco yesterday. We spent the entire afternoon; even Mama Lola came. I was able to enjoy "on field photo privileges" just by the nature of the equipment I was carrying. They just assumed I was there professionally. I kept my mouth shut and went about my business as if I belonged and it worked; I was even invited up into the broadcast booth. The video I saw before going did not do these people and horses justice. The skill control and dedication of the riders’ dancers and horse is immeasurable. The Horse are magnificent creatures, it’s obvious even to the casual observer that these animals are nobility amongst their peers. The costume and the pageantry were inspiring. These are proud people, sustaining a distinguished Peruvian tradition.

Before leaving we were treated to anticucho (BBQ bulls’ heart) and I can’t tell you how good it is. And picarones, Peruvian donuts floured sweet potatoes in a sugarcane and fig sauce. The return trip was an adventure in and of itself.   The road back to the Pan American Hwy from the exhibition field was a dark, windy road that cuts through a landscape reminiscent of the moon. When we finally reach the hwy the adventure really began. Cars fly past you, rocking the car as you attempt to merge into the continuous stream of vehicles. Once in, you jockey for position constantly. Lanes are by in large meaningless, the curb and part of the right most lane double as bus stops for collectivos and “Chicken Buses” but is also a passing lane if you want to get in front of or at least close enough to push in front of the guy in front of you. With all this going on Johann attempted be to pass the house keys over to Nestor who was driving. Did I mention that Johann was in a different car? As he raced up the highway pulling beside us, Maricarmen lowered the window stretching to hand the keys over to Nestor.  The first attempt missed, as Nestor really wasn’t expecting this and of course part of his focus was on trying to drive in the crazy traffic. As a last ditch effort the keys were tossed, trying for our open window and missing. The keys ricocheted off the mirror and despite Nestor valiant effort hit the pavement of the Pan American Hwy.

 A slight gasp and a silence that was profound as each of us individually contemplated the innumerable possible dark outcomes of trying to retrieve the keys in the chaos of the rushing vehicles. The reality, as it turns out, was that a car behind had witnessed the event and some how and for some reason chooses to put their own lives in peril, stopped and plucked the keys from an uncertain fate. I didn’t hear yet how the keys were returned to Johann. Vicky’s heart was squarely in her hand through out the entire ordeal.