On the 4th of July we shook off our convalescence and went out looking for a bar that had been recommended to us. We didn't find it but instead found a bar called Mi Oficina where you had to knock and be let in by a locked door. We had a few beers and chatted with the proprietor, Mario, who showed us pictures of his family and dressed me up in an electric pink poncho and traditional hat for photos. Later we were joined by three guys, Jesus, Javier Campo, and Alonzo, from the neighboring town of Peguche, who shared a couple pitchers of
hervido which is the local firewater,
aguardiente, mixed with hot fruit juice. They invited us to their town's Inti Raymi festival the following day.
When we arrived in Peguche by taxi we were helped out of our vehicle by a barechested and extremely painted man in a fedora named Luis who instantly made us feel welcome. He led us into the garden of a local hostel where people were busy digging up vegetables and guinea pigs cooked in the earth with hot stones, while others passed around more of the hot juice/firewater combination in buckets. After a while a brass brand struck up a tune that they played throughout the afternoon, somehow never becoming boring. Soon the women loaded up the food in baskets and put them on their heads and we all paraded our way to the main square with fireworks and men in costumes dancing maniacally. My favorites were Luis; a very small man dressed as a soldier; and the man dressed traditionally as Shrek. We spent a few hours accepting
hervido and sharing our beer talking to the very friendly locals, watching the incessant unchoreographed dancing around the mystical food offering as the band, that would have fit in at an Elks' Club in Tallahassee, played the same rollicking tune endlessly. It was my kind of festival.
In the late afternoon we walked out to the local waterfall and had a nice chat with a couple from Quito, Felipe and Ana. It was a wonderful way to spend our last day before leaving for the South.
The second museum displayed works of Guayasamín himself, some quite realistic, some Picasso-like, and others nightmarish and hallucinatory. I really liked the series of portraits of women, especially the icy-cold and steel-rod straight ambassador from Uruguay.
The final museum had a collection of colonial art but they didn't allow photos. It was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon before getting on an uncomfortable all night bus.
