June 27: Arequipa

After an overdose of pre-Incan culture, I took an overnight bus from Nazca to Arequipa. I used the bus company Cial but anyone else who does the trip should pay the extra bit for a proper Cruz Del Sur seat that you can actually lean back without ticking off the woman behind of you. Otherwise the ride feels like an airplane flight with your seat back in the full upright position and the worst turbulence possible for the entire ten or eleven hours.

Known as the White City for its primary construction material, a white volcanic rock called sillar, Arequipa has a reputation for being a bit ornery. As in the way that Quebec is ornery. The rest of Peru drinks Inca Cola, right? In Arequipa though, you drink Kola Escocesa because la bebida de Peru can't possibly be la bebida de Arequipa. And while the rest of the country enjoys Cusqueña beer (named after the city Cuzco, the Incan capital), the residents of the city drink Arequipeña instead. The attitude is so pervasive the souvenir shops actually sell a novelty Arequipan passport. So weird.
I stayed at the hostel Home Sweet Home. Although security in dorm rooms is a real issue, cramped quarters force travelers to interact and I felt lonely and sick of Spanish by now. I met a whole mess of friendly folks in my dorm room (there were five beds in one room, and none of them were bunks) who invited me to dinner where I got to try rocoto relleno, a hot pepper stuffed with alpaca meat and potatoes. Mucho gusto.

The first day, after booking a trek to Colca Canyon, I visited the Santa Catalina Monastery, a sprawling Dominican compound that once housed an order of nuns with the laxest possible policy of cloistered life. The had servants and threw parties and most were the daughters of rich families who paid handsome dowries to be admitted. It was reformed at some point and the later nuns were pious to the point of self mortification. One of the cells actually had a bed of nails used by some dedicated Mother Superior. The monastery was full of picturesque alleyways perfect for filling up my memory card.
After my fill of the monastery I wandered around the Plaza de Armas and ended up buying postcards from a university student in Arequipa. Many of the young guides I met on the trip are students of tourism at local universities eager to try out their English on anyone who will bother to talk to them. The guy (whose name I've unfortunately forgotten) told me that he used to work as a porter on the Inca Trail and he makes more money now selling postcards in the plaza than he did carrying heavy packs and running up and down mountains all day long. He then asked if I'd like to visit the market with him and, after establishing that I did not want some kind of city tour, he took me to see all the weird Peruvian food on display at the giant market. This is some of the grain available, including the Peruvian corn on steroids called choclo. The kernels are huge compared to the standard American ones.
And this is the black corn they use to make chicha morada, sweetened juice that tastes unlike anything I've ever had before. (It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good. It was just strange.) They also ferment it to make a corn beer called chicha, which I never actually found despite Lonely Planet's claim that it's frequently served is Cuzco.
And best of all, these little buggers are used to make jugo de rana. Yup, that's right, you can get liquefied frog in a cup mixed with other fresh fruits. Supposedly its good for your brain. I say it can't possibly be good for anything. My food bravery ends at blended amphibian.
Peruvian Guide Boy also took me to a bridge to check out Mt. Misti, a still active volcano that looms over Arequipa. People who climbed Misti attest that it does indeed still smoke and smells like sulphur.