New friend from Pakistan provides information on Lima festival

I am in Cusco airport Sunday afternoon, awaiting my two-hour flight to Lima.

Before I left for South American (way back on Saturday, August 31), I received an email from Waheed Anjum, who lives in Islamabad. Pakistan. He had found my website through a Google search and wanted to strike up an email correspondence with a fellow journalist. He has been a journalist for 22 years and is currently a news editor at a newspaper in Islamabad.

We have exchanged several emails while I have been traveling in Brazil and Peru. I was particularly touched that he took the time to send me some information about a large festival in Peru, El Senor de los Milagros. I am going to try to find this procession when I fly to Lima today.

Here is the note and info that Waheed sent me:

Respected Karen,
Are you are still in Peru? I am sending you some information so that your visit become more informative and enjoyable.
Regards,
Waheed Anjum
Islamabad. Pakistan

The Lord of the Miracles

This procession, which gathers together the largest number of believers in South America, dates back to colonial times, when a slave, brought over from Angola, drew the image of a black Christ on the walls of a wretched hut in the plantation of Pachacamilla, near Lima. The image stayed on the wall despite several attempts to erase it.

This was to spark widespread devotion for the image, which survived intact on the wall despite an earthquake in 1746 which leveled all surrounding buildings. As a result of this event, worship of the image rose to new heights, until it became what is today the most widely venerated image in the city of Lima. The heart of the celebration is one of the largest processions to take place every year in the Americas, where tens of thousands of the faithful dress in purple tunics, singing hymns and praying as they accompany the image. The litter which bears the painting weighs two tons and is borne on the shoulders of believers who set out on the traditional 24-hour procession from the church of Las Nazarenas, crossing downtown Lima until it reaches the church of La Merced in Barrios Altos. Around this time of year, the streets fill with vendors of a wide variety of typical dishes and sweets, such as the famous Turrón de Doña Pepa. In October to commemorate the Lord of Miracles (Señor de los Milagros), Lima hosts the well-known bullfight season which carries the same name and is held in the centuries-old Plaza de Acho bullring. The season features some major bullfighters (toreros) from Spain and Latin America.

Cusco Culture Shock

From the amount of disorientation I experienced today arriving in the hectic hub of Cusco, Peru, you would think I had lived in the remote Andean town of Patacancha all my life! (Yes, that's me and my Patacancha family from my overnight visit last weekend.)

Cusco is a wonderful place, but it's also a very busy city. Lines of cars scrape by me so closely that I swear the drivers play, "Who Can Hit the Tourist." Then again, tourists are the taxis' livelihood and tourist dollars, (oops, I mean euros), fuel the economy.

Rarely have I been bombarded with so many aggressive sales pitches. As soon as I step out of my hotel and head to the central Plaza de Armas, I am propositioned so many times: "Senorita, massage? artwork? poncho? bracelet?" that I grow weary. "No, gracias," I say with a smile, at first. Then I reply more curtly. Finally, I don't say anything and keep walking, feeling slightly guilty.

To overcome my culture shock at the urban noise, traffic and hordes of tourists, I did what any red-blooded, experienced travel journalist would do: I got my eyebrows waxed.

I imagined some urban grooming would help me feel more like a city sophisticate, despite my multiple layers of fleece, dirty jeans and mud-encrusted hiking shoes. And I knew the expense would be under $5 U.S.

While others set off for adventures to Machu Picchu, Lake Titicaca and Colca Canyon, I set out on a mission to find a salon in Cusco.

It was easy: there was a "Massage and Waxing" sign just steps away from the plaza. I wandered through a marketplace filled with trinkets before I found the set of stairs leading to the room where Maria worked. I was concerned about how dark it was - bright light is the best bet for any hair removal process!

I gestured to my eyebrows that were in need of taming after weeks of trekking, mountain bike and horse travel. Maria smiled at me and then slathered most of my face from the mouth down with hot, golden wax that looked like dried-up honey. There was no time to protest. Maybe she thought my natural peach fuzz looked more like a goatee.

A moment later, she was slowly peeling off bits of wax - ouch! I tried to indicate that ripping off the wax faster was better for this painful process. When she left the room to reheat the plastic tub of wax, I wondered what the correct word for "eyebrows" was in Spanish. She returned and did my brows. She suggested I return for a massage and I declined. I paid and left her a nice tip.

I strode into the street and joined the throngs on Avendia Sol, with a new bounce in my step. I was Happy and Hair Free. Back at the hotel, I examined her handiwork in the light and noticed my brows were still full of golden wax.