Family is the Daddy!

Over the next few days, a very lightly touched and experienced aspect of Peruvian culture on my behalf, is to be confirmed more than i could ever have thought possible. So much so in fact, that i am surprised, shocked and astounded by what i found. However, I must clarify right from the start though, that we can and should, all learn something from this and value what family really stands for and how it can provide a basic but fundamental platform from which we can all be content with what we have in life.

I will also kindly ask the reader to excuse my usual dry and comical sense of humour, that i so often use to describe the unfolding events, as at the same time as this being quite a delicate and precious matter, there were also of course some moments that had to be looked at with a smile. So here goes...

I knew even before i came to Peru that family over here is king and something that i would learn about very quickly. You eat, sleep and breathe it quite simply. It is not unusual (which i am sure for the majority of us back in England would send a shiver down our spine) for married couples to still live at home with their parents and even grand parents if they are still around. Everything is shared, talked about and discussed between family members in such detail, with such compassion and so naturally that unbreakable bonds are formed. This isn't to say that everybody in each family gets along with one another, not at all that isn't reality. However, everyone has an underlying connection that ties them to their roots and this will never be changed right from the moment that you are born into the family.

Many of you will probably by now be eager, maybe worried or even confused as to see what has brought about this change in tone and more interestingly, what my grounds are for this analogy. Well, in all honesty i could write a list as long as my arm and i wouldn't really have scratched the surface. Greeting each other in the morning with a kiss on the cheek and a hug might only be something we do, when we haven't seen one another for a period of time. In Peru on the other hand, several hours in bed is enough to warrant this affection, and starts and ends the day positively.

Breakfast, lunch and dinner are other examples of how culture over here has 'bothered' to make the time to be together and get the most out of it. Each morning i get up and the maids prepare the table in exactly the same way. The call is then sent out and we are all mustered like cattle, from our various hiding holes around the house, to eat as a unit and share the beginning of the day. The same goes for lunch and dinner, but sometimes there's even 'luncheoncito' - my favourite part of the day if it comes around.

My first experience of 'luncheoncito' was only a few days ago. Having settled down to do some work in my room, i then detected the arrival of someone other than those who normally frequented the house. The noise level quadrupled and voices hit such a high pitch, that i actually caught myself becoming increasingly concerned about the glassware in the dining room cabinet and whether it could withstand this full frontal attack of cackling women!

At first, i thought the Peruvian equivalent of the Queen's mother had landed. At a modest ninety one years old she certainly looked as though she had seen her fair share of life. When i was presented to her by Pam, i couldn't help but feel rather like a rare culinary delicacy, that was hidden underneath one of those silver covers that is then flamboyantly taken off in the view of the customer. Judging upon her silenced reaction when i was revealed, i am guessing that she had already eaten whatever was on the plate before and it didn't sit well the first time, or maybe that was something to do with my extreme sunburn - something i need to clear up before we go any further.

*

I have been called many things in life before but 'my little whitey' really made my skin crawl and it was about time to do something about it. The sun now in it's full glory and my confidence riding high, i steamed up to the roof to catch a few rays. It was hot and i was hot, but not too hot. Little did i know! After about an hour and not looking burnt at all, i decided to head inside to cool down a bit and have something to drink. From here on in, it only got worse. It was as if my skin was in need of some shade or possibly my retinas too, so that i could see as to how much i had been burning all the time i was on the roof and that i shouldn't have been up there at all. Within a matter of minutes i began to get redder, redder and redder. I had extreme sunburn and was punished further for my stupidity! Sunstroke, diarrhoea and first class humiliation followed. Pam then proceeded to lather me in some pink cream, that made me feel like i had just been born for the second time. It then dried and stuck all my hairs together, meaning that i had to move like a robot or risk excruciating pain! Anyway, now you've all had a laugh about that, where was i?

*

This old lady it turned out was the sister of Pam's Grandad, who sadly passed away a couple of years ago and it was her ninety first birthday. Before i could even say 'Beam me up Scotty' and the table had been arranged and the two maids, Doris and Bill the Queen Mother, Pam and I were sat awaiting more bread and jam. It was at this point that i couldn't help but let a smile slowly creep over my face. I had never been to a ninety one year old's birthday party before and didn't really know what to expect. Break dancing, house music and tequila? Probably not. Cake stuffed with nuts and berries that i had no desire for, but ate enthusiastically and enjoyed through politeness, which was then to be washed down with Inka cola? The latter prevailed of course. What kind of birthday would it be without all of this? One that i wouldn't bloody go to for one!!!

Once i finally managed to subtely dig out all the berries and nuts from around my teeth and it was photo time. This was when for the first time, i got a glimpse of the true significance and importance of family over here. We all gathered round and smiled for the camera, well most of us anyway. Rossita (the birthday girl) began to cry and started uttering a few words in Spanish through the tears that started to pour down her wrinkled face. She was saying 'It's not the same without my brother here, i wish he was here, it's not fair'. Despite, her brother having passed away some two years ago, she clearly hadn't recovered from this loss and was very depressed as a result. I felt for her deeply as she looked lost, confused and more sadly, unhappy to see her ninety first birthday. All in all, it was an occasion that was very moving, emotional and revealing about their ways.

*

The tea party was only a little teaser i knew, as to what was next in line for family gatherings. It was Alfonso's (one of Pam's many Uncle's) birthday this time and unsurprisingly there was more food and family!

Prior to the gathering, i learned of the terrible condition that Alfonso was in. Several years ago now, some liquid began to gather in his brain and although this wasn't a fatal problem at first, the end result was a very cruel and unfair one. What was to be a reasonably straightforward medical procedure, developed into something far more complicated than imaginable. The liquid that was going to be drained from his brain, was usually done via a previously known and tested method but at this time doctors were experimenting in different ways, and it so happens that this time it went terribly wrong. Nobody really knows what exactly happened. Some believe the operation was done by inadequate doctors, some think that he was without oxygen for a period of time and others think that he was given too much anesthetic, or maybe it was a combination of these beliefs, who knows.

The end result was so cruel on a human life, that it really makes you think about how lucky each and everyone of us is and how we are all guilty of taking the majority of things in our lives for granted. When i met Alfonso at a relatives house here in Peru, i had difficulty holding myself together, as i had never experienced anything like this before in such close and personal proximity. Wheelchair bound for the rest of his life, barely able to moan or move and unable to speak or open his eyes - this was Alfonso. I was introduced to him, shook his hand and patted him on his back only to receive an incomprehensible grunt.

What i found most heart wrenching and wicked about all this, was the thought that this poor guy could still communicate to some degree and had something left upstairs, but was now trapped inside what really was just a dormant and vacant body. Whether he was aware of this, i sincerely hope not, as nobody, nobody, no matter how sinful they are or not, deserves a punishment of this nature. I simply can't think of any reason why this should happen to anyone on our planet, other than that we must learn from it and live every second of our lives like its going to end the next, as you never know it just might be worse than you could ever imagine.

All misfortunes aside, the next set of affairs is something etched into my memory for totally different reasons. A bumpy, hot and sleep deprived car journey later and we arrived at the party house. A growing sense of uncertainty and wariness was slowly working its way throughout my body, as i really didn't know what this afternoon had in store for me, i did know that it would be something unconventional though.

Low and behold my theory was proven to be spot on. Once i had overcome the routine awkwardness, that people so often experience when they walk into someone's house for the first time and don't know where to position themselves, or what they can and can't touch, i sat down with my drink only to spill most of the contents on my lap, as some little nine year old brat appeared from behind the sofa, pointed a toy gun in my ear and pretended to shoot me. I couldn't help think that this had been rehearsed before, in order to test me in some strange ritual that this household has with new visitors. Nonetheless, it seemed to break the ice for the rest of the group, who were all still looking for a place to rest but couldn't quite settle like a cat would do when it gets into its basket - i am glad i was of some use!

My next mistake was in thinking that everybody had now arrived and that this would be quite a manageable group for the afternoon. The doorbell then rang and in steamed another hoard of people. They were all related to Pam in some way, but amazingly she hadn't even met some of them! That's just a snippet as to how big the families are over here.

So, with all the newcomers, snipers, screaming kids and ninety something's in one place we were set for the next few hours. There was an abundance of pop floating around, so i took an early advantage of this and drank quickly as it was like a sauna in this house as all the windows were closed - for what reason when its so bloody hot everywhere i have no idea.

Perspiring heavily and under verbal attack from 'someone' the biscuits arrived, which when i saw them looked like a perfect ticket to divert the conversation. I readily stuffed several into mouth to try to convey this message publicly and immediately regretted my decision. This so called 'biscuit' may have well been cotton wool for all i cared, as it was flavourless, served no purpose whatsoever and worst of all depleted my mouth of any remaining saliva. I must have then spent the next ten minutes chewing this cardboard like paste, that i couldn't swallow as i had no sodding drink left, in between trying to speak Spanish!

After an hour or so, (my mouth now moist and a bigger glass in my hand in preparation for more unannounced dry food items) we were all ushered to the table to have lunch. Due to the large number of people at this fiesta, there was a limited number of seats at the table and only a few extra nearby. Through a combination of my good natured manners and my distinct lack of experience with family gatherings, i was remarkably slow to make a move towards the table. This resulted in the majority of the dining table having one foot in the grave and the surrounding chairs being strategically taken by the young and able, while the women went to the kitchen to serve the food but mostly chat. I could see that some of the guys who had foreseen this, found my position rather amusing as when i caught a certain individuals eye, he winked and smiled at me - bastard i muttered under my breath whilst returning his smile!

Smiling sweetly and laughing whenever anyone else laughed, i waited patiently for the food to arrive. When i finally saw the goods emerge from the kitchen a sense of 'relief' passed over me, which i immediately couldn't help but associate with the main dish, but in a rather different meaning of the word. Please excuse my crudeness, but my head was polluted with this image for the duration of the meal and it must be shared. The 'piece de la resistance' looked and smelt like the result of someone having 'relieved' themselves uncontrollably. I took a deep breath, (probably a mistake as it made me feel nauseous) and served myself a very modest portion of this brown slop, added as many vegetables and some rice to compensate and took a mouthful, having previously psychologically prepared myself for involuntary gagging and projectile vomiting. Praise the lord, it didn't actually taste bad at all, in fact it was very nice.

Talk about being put through your paces, it was all happening to me today and wasn't about to end. By this stage though, i had given up on thinking that anything normal was ever going to happen and so embraced the idea of more surprises and oddities. I almost, dare i say it, began to enjoy this unpredictability and was developing some strange masochistic tendency to put myself in yet again another peculiar situation.

Low and behold, the family didn't let me down in any way. With a mouthful of unusually tasty shit and some vegetables, i couldn't stop myself from getting a very uncomfortable feeling from someone or something in the room. No sooner than i had established this eerie feeling, i readily found the cause. Sat slightly off centre of opposite to my position at the table, was what looked like a gargoyle but was actually an extremely old looking lady, who could have been straight off the set of a Harry Potter film. One thing i can say about her, is that she didn't need any fancy make-up or special costume to fit this part which would have given many children, severe nightmares and long lasting mental trauma.

Extremely hunch backed and a head that just about rested on the dining table, she started to shovel food robotically into her orifice. Besides all these minor beauty blemishes, the real thing that made me uneasy, was her crossed eyes. One was staring intently and directly at me, another was looking through the dining room wall whilst she was muttering some incantation heavily under her breath. I was terrified that she was casting a hex of some sort, as every time i looked up she held the same demonic stare at me. Now panicking, i got up from the table without notice and went to break the spell by visiting the toilet. It worked as when i returned she was nowhere to be seen! 'Haha, you won't get me!', i thought.

Having just stuffed down the final few mouthfuls of food, the end of lunch was in my grasp, (and also the afternoon as Pam had conveniently excused us at 4pm) so i started to turn around to stand up to return my plate to the kitchen, when i unexpectedly came face to face with the visually impaired fiend. My heart lept along with my knife and fork, which splashed a suspicious looking brown mess onto the carpet, which of course was white. Feeling thoroughly embarrassed, i frantically scrubbed the carpet with water and serviettes, whilst everyone watched as though this was the first time they had ever seen anyone do this before. Once i had diluted the stain sufficiently around the rest of the carpet so that it wasn't as concentrated and obvious, i made a beeline for Pam and stared at my watch to give her the signal.

Responding promptly and feeling my pain, she herded her Mother and Bill towards the direction of the front door, which i felt like running through at this point to escape. I now know what it must feel like when you finally take those first few steps and smell freedom for the first time in years, when you are released from prison!

This chapter has educated and informed me more than i would have ever imagined and allowed me to enter and become part of something that not many people are able to do. For that, i am very grateful and feel privileged to have experienced this. It's by no means easy at times to walk into a family of this scale or emotional bond, but i wasn't expecting it to be.

The way i saw all of this, was first and foremost as a necessity. I would of course have to meet all the family, just like you do with any other girlfriends or boyfriends parents. But this was slightly different as i hope you have by now gathered from reading what i have written. Lastly, this was an opportunity with such fertility and scope for growth that i would be stupid to not embrace it, (the same can be said with my coming to Peru) as all of these family members have friends. So, let me put it to you this way - get along with and treat these people with the respect they deserve and you don't know who will have the key to the door you are trying to open.

Did i mention i met an immigration officer who should be able to process my resident visa?

Acclimatisation

Humidity, car horns and confusion - Lima was just as i remembered it! Now having queued for an entire lifetime at immigration and having eventually made it through unscathed, i was reunited with the real reason i had come to Peru. Struggling to contain my excitement in front of Mum and step Dad, i quickly gained control of myself and changed my mood from a 14 year old teenager to 'first impressions' are always important. A few bad jokes and a bumpy car journey later and we arrived at what was to be my new home for the next few months.

Upon entering the house i was confronted by a little old Lady named 'Maricucha', who didn't waste anytime in looking me up and down before giving me the nod and the all clear to greet her. At a modest five foot tall, her presence and demeanour certainly outweighed her size and even though she had been the maid for the family for nothing less than 65 years, i felt strangely like i should be the one serving her!

No rest for the wicked. In my case this is certainly true, as once my bags had touched the floor, i was whisked into Bill's (Pam's step Dad) new Volkswagen Beetle and we headed for the coast. With my hair flapping furiously and my knuckles now white from gripping the front door handle Bill leans over and proudly informs me he used to do a spot of rally driving when he was a young lad - no shit i thought! On we go ducking, diving and dodging the potholes taxis and buses and finally screech to a halt on the sea front. With legs like jelly and a newly developed nervous laugh, i tried to convince myself that 'I am fine', as we walked down the jetty to what appeared to my trained eye - a bar, thank god!

*

Prior to my departure for Peru, i had attempted to book dinner at a restaurant in my broken Spanish as a surprise for Pam. I chose a typical Peruvian one in the heart of Lima's restaurant and bar district and was eagerly awaiting ceviche and some flavoured Pisco's. Upon our arrival i was glad to learn that my Spanish had indeed been understood and we were shown to our table. A small pig, some ceviche and something that will remain a mystery later, and i was ready for some well earned sleep.

Finally, my head hits a very makeshift pillow, but at this point i was beyond caring. I was in bed and that was all that mattered. Just as i was drifting off into some bizarre dream about being chased by the five foot maid, began what sounded like a jumbo jet taking off. I immediately sat bolt upright through no choice of my own but through sheer panic and took a few seconds to adjust to what on earth was going on. I had forgotten that it was Saturday and that obviously meant party time for the neighbouring house. The music can only be described as soul destroying. I envisaged the band that produced this music to be a peculiar group of traveling Peruvian midgets that once belonged in a circus and had stolen a variety of objects from there to make some noise on before they left, bloody brilliant!

*

Bleary eyed, but this time from lack of sleep (the circus didn't finish performing until 8am) i crawled downstairs and headed into the kitchen looking for some water. My state of slumber was then unexpectedly catapulted towards near tears, as none other than Maricucha suddenly appeared from behind a small box in the corner of the room, resulting in my heart beat quadrupling momentarily and my head meeting the corner of a nearby cupboard. Now with watery eyes and a difficulty on focusing on the creature in front of me, i was interrogated in lightening fast Spanish as to what i was doing in the kitchen. The kitchen i quickly learnt isn't a place for men and i am instructed to sit down at the table and wait for my breakfast, which i do accordingly.

All this commotion had stirred the rest of the house and rather like boarding school, we all assume our positions at the table and wait for breakfast to be served. I have the fortune of sitting next to the kitchen jack in the box, who proceeds to correct my every movement when attempting to eat my breakfast and in doing so finds me uncontrollably amusing - for what reason i am not entirely sure, but at least she seems happy so i laugh too.

The rest of the day takes a turn towards normality, which is most welcomed and appreciated on my behalf. An introduction to the surrounding amenities, an ice cream and a good chat with with mum and Bill, its all very relaxed and civilised. Once home we lunch, take a siesta and then plan what the evening can offer us, as well as the next few days. I am beginning to become accustomed to this lifestyle.

Outbound

Bleary eyed and somewhat baffled by the sound of vibrating coming from under my pillow I quickly realised that today is the day to turn things upside down yet again. Nonetheless, once ‘underweigh’ with my hold all, a pair of laptops, bulky SLR and a bag full of bed sheets, the tube immediately seemed like the worst idea. The worst idea perhaps, but also the cheapest and the most unaccommodating means of travel that I could find at this godforsaken hour.

After molly coddling my belongings like you would an old lady going down stairs, and having stood all the way on the tube to west London, I finally arrived with red strap marks burnt into my neck and a very stiff arm. Anyway, enough of the moaning I thought I’m off to Peru – a wealth of opportunity, mystery and to be honest who bloody knows what (certainly a contributing factor to my departure other than chasing a certain lady).

Events and moods are always quick to change when you walk into 25 Ladbroke Walk and this wasn’t an exception. A whirlwind of questions and logical advice from father set the tone and corrected my absentmindedness, with a brisk but pleasant lunch to follow. So, with all pleasantries aside I was now airport bound, this time in the luxury of the good old black cab – a rare, well missed and always welcomed friend of mine, cheers Dad!

Airports are often deemed as places of high stress and turmoil. Whoever said that is/was full of bollocks! Arrive, check in, security (where my guilty conscience scratches) and then hit the OYSTER BAR! If anyone needs a lesson at Heathrow, then adopt my advice. A glass of vino blanco, a couple of oysters to become socially accepted and fit in amongst all the immaculately clad businessmen and Russian women and we are set for the next stage…or so I think!

London – Madrid done. Madrid – Lima confusion! The boarding queue takes matters into its own hands and there is organised chaos. This consisted of a stampede of Peruvian’s all charging towards the boarding gate desk, which then resulted in new seats being allocated and a gaggle of families moaning in Spanish that they all must sit beside one another, otherwise they won’t last the journey - exactly my thought!

It just so happens that I owe an awful lot to this new fangled way of queuing for planes, as once on board I found my seat to be occupied by what I thought at a first glance was a life-size garden gnome, but on a second take it couldn’t be anyone else but one of Peru’s many local ‘cholitas’, who was wearing a typical bowler hat that was interestingly perched on top of her head. With no energy and enthusiasm to instigate any form of misconceived conversation, it was straight to the air hostess.

What seemed like a period of utter meltdown on board BA7235 and a few burst blood vessels later, I managed to land myself a seat where the real action is first class! My veins now retracted, my heart beating a normal rhythm I began to let a very smug smile creep over my face as I casually made my way past the rest of the cattle class and slipped into what felt like a leather glove. Struggling to contain my excitement (this will be explained shortly) I quickly realised that I wasn’t going to be able to sit with all my belongings on my lap for the entire duration of the flight, so quickly stowed them in the overhead locker. As when put in any formal situation, I crafted a suave and sophisticated manner just to fit in with all other people who were flying first class.

Dinner time! This is where my primitive and juvenile tendencies got the better of me and totally destroyed my ‘important person’ facade.

Let’s start from the beginning. With white Chino’s, a plain blue t-shirt, a stumpy build accompanied by a swash of black hair and a pair of steel grey glasses perched on his sun weathered face, I took my first look at my flying buddy for the next twelve hours or so and what a bond we formed! From my side of the armrest, this guy looked like the kind you didn’t want to piss off, otherwise you might quickly find yourself being escorted away to some godforsaken dark hole, and shacked up with a grizzly rapist for the next few months. So, with my cautious and calculated approach I chose to mimic his style to try and keep in sync and create a positive first impression. When the airhostess appeared and offered him a selection of orange juice, water or champagne, I replied ‘El mismo por favor’ (the same please). This, I could see was working well, as I detected a quick flicker of his eyes in my direction before he resumed reading his complimentary magazine.

Some time passed by before dinner was to be served, so we both sat there in harmony browsing casually over various tropical destinations and exotic retreats around the world (all of which was in Spanish, and most of which I could only guess at) taking time to occasionally nod with approval at particular destinations. Then somewhat unannounced the hostess appears from behind a curtain in a wizard like fashion, pushing a trolley with a variety of culinary delicacies. A few words were spoken between the hostess and my Peruvian friend and he was presented with red wine, foie gras, a duck consommé and ravioli with a pesto dressing. Now, it was my turn – ‘El mismo por favor’, I regurgitated once again.

Rather like a Charlie Chaplin sketch I carefully followed each and every movement of my compadre – a swirl followed by deep nasal inhalation of the red wine, a smearing of foie gras on the warm bread, it was rather like ballet. I could now see that I was making progress, as he turned to me with his glass poised, looked me in the eye and said ‘Salud’. I’d cracked it I thought! This curious character had finally acknowledged me. With a new air of confidence I plunged straight into my ravioli with apparent force. In fact, it turned out I was albeit a trifle to eager, as my entire tray gave way, spilling the entire contents all over my lap! I was now sat wearing what felt like a soiled nappy, instead filled with a cocktail of wine, duck soup and mushed ravioli parcels!!!

During this commotion my now ‘former’ friend quickly jumped up and ushered over what seemed like all the stewardesses on the plane who proceeded to pat me uncontrollably with serviettes. Red in the face and beads of sweat forming on my brow, I was catapulted from a state of measured control to utter embarrassment! We had no further communication for the rest of the flight I may hasten to add!