Llywindatravels 2025

Last year at this time we were on the road, headed for Bolivia (!), Argentina and Chile. This year we are on the beach, enjoying summer unfold. Our daily walk

 

Last year at this time we were on the road, headed for Bolivia (!), Argentina and Chile. This year we are on the beach, enjoying summer unfold. Our daily walk updates us on local happenings, such as the surfing workshop for young people of Barranca going on this week.

Jonathan still takes photos for people.

The local security guard cabin is about finished.

A little girl was waiting for the waves to fill her bucket. It may be a while.

The sand makes patterns as the waves go out.

We watch the sunset most days. On Sunday we sat on the seawall, listening to the waves crash added to the din of music from the opposite end of the beach where the music was going full tilt. There’s a frenetic quality to the late afternoon, related to the impending work week, the close of the weekend, the party winding down. Music from La Choza, a full half mile away, was as loud as if they were down the block. Percussion began to override the pop beat and we realized that a drum group was working its way up the beach, playing and passing the hat. The combination was enough to drive us indoors, but the view of the sunset kept us hanging on. That’s what happens most days.

 

Can you believe I took this one tonight? No filters or anything. What a sky!

 

 

 

 

 

I agree to speak with Lindsay Park, a woman who is recording a series of podcasts called “The Story of Woman.” We spoke for about an hour in December 2015, and the episode is now available. My interview runs in the middle of the podcast from about minutes 10-50. (I add this in case you’d like to hear a few minutes but are not up for the entire 110 minute podcast…). We talk about the origins of inequality in the Norte Chico region of Peru. I think most of you know we’ve been working in this area since 2000, and it’s our base of operations right now. During the months we spend here each year we are writing up additional pieces of research–the articles and book chapters we’ve published don’t yet cover all the material that we excavated. It is enjoyable to revisit the work and rethink what we found, despite my comment on Facebook–something about an exploding head at the end of the day…

http://storyofwoman.org/podcast/episode-eleven-the-birth-of-inequality/

 

 

 

The best idea for a birthday celebration comes from a neighbor, Billie, who spends a day on the beach with friends in Barranca, her home town, every year. We were delighted to be included this year. Early birds hit the beach by about 10:30am. To avoid roasting under the sun, we joined in at about 12:30 with our umbrella, lawn chair, beach mat & towel. The El Nino has raised water temperature from painfully frigid to downright enjoyable, though I still wear my wetsuit most of the time.

The only other person who likes to catch the waves with a body board is 9 years old.

 

 

 

Enjoying the sun.

 

 

 

The treat for the kids was ice cream on the beach.

Here we are in the midst of celebrating.

We went home about 2:30 pm for a break from the sun. Went back at 4 pm and they were still on the beach, just heading indoors to have lunch. We joined in for chicken, rice and beans, all delicious, followed by a stupendous birthday cake. It was three vanilla layers with fresh fruit (mango, strawberry) and manjar blanco (butterscotch). This was frosted by fluffy white frosting. Delicious.

By 6 o’clock we were home–it was an all day party.

 

It was a quiet week…..yep, even here in Barranca.

The ocean has never been better for swimming or playing around. Remember that I first came to Peru the year after the last El Nino (1997-1998–we arrived in 1999). The water is usually frigid. By the time you are wet, most of your lower half has gone to sleep. Not this year! I don’t even wear my wet suit all the time. I love riding my body board in on the waves. OK, so I stay in pretty close, but it is so much fun. My friend Leila Wilson is going to post a photo on Facebook of me riding the waves with her daughter, who is ten. What can I say?

Now it is Sunday afternoon and a rock band is playing next door. 3 pm Sunday is a popular time for music, so that people can enjoy themselves and get home before it gets too late. They are a bit loud for me, but it’s lively and I imagine most people are happy to have even more racket on the beach. About every third restaurant plays music, resulting in a happy din, unless you like the quiet and crashing waves. But, Don’t worry! Never Fear! No problem! Tomorrow is Monday and it will be quiet again until Friday evening. That’s four and a half days for me and two and a half for everyone else.

New Year’s Eve is when you get together with friends. We had a big family lunch with our neighbors the Byrne’s, mostly to celebrate Gaim’s release from the hospital and four day vacation at home. After almost a year in Lima receiving treatment for leukemia, Gaim and his mother Dona Teresa, were both happy to breathe the sea air and enjoy the bustle.

Gaim and I seem to have been discussing something very important.

We had delicious causa, an appetizer made with potatos, a filling–in this case vegetables in mayonnaise, and garnished with egg, red pepper, raw onion and parsley.

It was followed by seco de res, a stewed beef seasoned with coriander, ginger, orange chili peppers (aji amarillo), and other things. It was delicious. The meal concluded with caramel and coconut filled chocotejas made by Gaim’s sister Fiorella, an excellent cook. Chocotejas originated in the city of Ica on the south coast of Peru, but are known everywhere.

Lunch was the quiet portion of the day–we were so full afterward that we all read books or napped for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. After guacamole for dinner, around 8:30 pm we went out to walk along the beachfront. A surprising number of people had put up tents on the beach. We stopped not far down the street to visit with our neighbors the Tello family. They don’t spend a lot of time in Barranca any more, so it was enjoyable to catch up a bit. I was impressed with everyone’s tales of their travels. One sister had spent four months in Indonesia with her son’s family–he has a business there. Another had been to Florida and others to the US, Spain, and other destinations. We seemed to be among Peru’s one-percenters. The matriarch of the group is Dona Elvira, mother of six (I think), and at 93, she often dominates the conversation, swirling the ice cubes in her cocktail, and nipping out on the porch for a smoke. The next day, we ran into each other on the beach where she was going in for a dip. I was impressed.

On New Year’s Eve, dinner was just going to be served at 10 pm when we begged off and went home. There are lots of traditions to observe on New Year’s Eve in Peru. You can take a suitcase and parade around the perimeter of your property, to make sure that you will travel during the coming year. Wear yellow underwear to ensure good luck, while you eat a dozen grapes.  The grape seller was doing a good business that day.

At midnight, sprinkle everyone with lentils to ensure a year of plenty. One year we also sat under the dining room table for a while, though I don’t recall what wonderful benefit we were going to receive.

Despite thinking we’d go to bed, we whiled away the time until midnight, when the house suddenly was being bombarded with rockets. Out in the street, you could see that fireworks–big, soaring, sparkle-shooting fireworks–were being set off in about eight places along the beach and on the escarpment above. It was very pretty, if very loud and probably very unsafe. Large fireworks are illegal but manage to be widely distributed. After about a half hour the fireworks subsided and we returned home to sleep. There was an undercurrent of music, as the clubs on the beach open at midnight on New Year’s, not before midnight, and rock on until morning and in fact all weekend. The music didn’t keep me awake and I slept peacefully until another big salvo of fireworks went off around 2:30 am. By morning, there were a lot more tents on the beach.

We went for a stroll at about 10 am and then retreated as the sidewalks filled with people, cars filled both sides of the street, and the undercurrent of music (boom!-da-bum-bum, boom!-da-bum-bum) continued. It makes me laugh just a little because the dominant rhythm is identical to the music used in every zumba class in the world. I always thought of zumba as music for a room full of ladies like me watching their feet, not cutting edge nightclub sound.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Because New Year’s Day is a holiday and fell on a Friday, the partying continued all weekend. At lunch time, we’d put the table and a few extra chairs on the porch and see who dropped by to chat.

I went out to swim a couple of times, but even under an umbrella I can’t take the heat all afternoon as many people do. We put the chairs out to watch the sunset, though one night we had to position them carefully to get a view of the horizon through the parked cars.

On Sunday morning while the music was still thumping, Lillian and Neil set out on their journey to Lima-Cusco-Ollantaytamob-Machu Picchu

Followed by Ollantaytambo-Pisac-Cusco

and then Cusco-Lima-Miami-Chicago. I won’t see them again for a while.

The tide of people turned on Sunday afternoon about 5 pm and streams of families headed for home. By Sunday night at 10 pm, the tents were struck, the last disco had quieted, the last fireworks were set off and the sound of the ocean had retaken its regular role as the loudest sound on the beach. It may already be January 4, but I can assure you the New Year has just arrived on the beach.