Exploring Peru On and Off the Beaten Path

Madi Marketos, a team member of comunidad dos retells her experience in Peru in this scrapbook style blog post. Each picture has a story, and as a storytelling intern for the Quispicanchi Project, she shares the background of her film shots and photographs. Madi also gives insight on the beauty of "slowing down and staying a while"  - 

When you think about Peru, your mind almost immediately goes to Machu Picchu. As one of the world's seven wonders, the decadent and incomprehensible structure draws in a lot of tourism. The intricate stone-built palaces and temples situate against a silhouette of green-covered mountains. The site truly lives up to its title as a wonder. So, it makes sense that people jump on planes to Lima and dash towards their connection through Cusco, rolling their suitcases around the bustling cobblestone plaza to catch the train to Aguas Calientes, where a bus drives them up the mountain to the gates of Machu Picchu. But, as the tourists hike through the trails of the Machu Picchu mountains and funnel through the stone castles, how often do they think of exploring the simpler parts of the country?

There is so much more to a country than its beautiful landscape. Peru is full of culture, history, and love, and when you open your ear to the country, it shares all its stories. I experienced Peru both touristically and immersively. I lived and learned with Peruvian people during the week and I met world travelers on the weekend. However, this experience changed my perspective on travel. As a person who values culture and conversation, I saw how limiting basic touristic travel can be. It sells a false narrative of what the country has to offer. Tourists go to see the famous sights, talk with their tour guide, and return to their American- style hotel after the day. On the opposite end of this spectrum lies the “white savior” service trip travel. Americans tend to travel to a country intending to change it, to “help it”. How often do Americans find the balance between these narratives?

What happens when we change the way we travel?

I had the opportunity to live in Peru for the summer of 2022. I worked as a "storyteller" for the Quispicanchi Project. While traveling,

I danced in sacred festivals, laughed with children in schools,

talked with women about life experiences, and never learned more about a place.

Interacting with a country both touristically and culturally results in an

extremely fulfilling experience. When I first stepped off the plane into the bustling scene of the Lima airport, I had no idea where my summer adventure would take me.

Turns out, my adventure landed me in the small town of Andahuaylillas, Peru.

After a plane ride to Cusco, an hour and a half taxi ride, and 40 sol later, I found myself on the cobblestone streets of a quaint, rural town inhabited by indigenous Peruvian people. Andahuayillas would be my home base for the next 1 month. My time here taught me more about myself and my perspectives, and by embracing the changes of place and lifestyle, I left with a more critical view of American travel. I learned that the right way to travel is to open your eyes and ears to a place, truly experience its culture, and question your preconceived notions.

So slow down and stay a while.

During my time in Andahuaylillas, Peru, we lived in a volunteer house on the corner of Calle Grau and Espinar. My living quarters were by no means a resemblance of a hotel. Instead, we blended with the village, and the town welcomed us with open arms. Our quirky orange kitchen sported a gas-light stove, a boiling water pot, and a nonworking fridge. But we couldn’t care less. My team and I spent nights cooking with the kitchen windows open, conversing with locals walking by. Each morning, I set out to retrieve a fresh pan (bread) for the house. I found myself walking through the cobblestone streets, eventually by memory, through the town plaza until I reached the Orno (the oven). I would make conversation with Anita (who worked at the orno) about her three children and quickly greet them with a hug as they skipped their way to the school just up the hill. As I opened the door of the volunteer house, the smell of the fresh bread lured all the other volunteers down the creaky wooden stairs. I loved the mornings before work days because everyone would file into the kitchen at different times, a bit groggy and ready for the day. Everyone else helped cook up some breakfast and would talk about their plans for the day to come. Then, around nine, everyone would head out of the house and leave for their prospective destinations. The green and sunlit mountains were constantly in view from the moment you walked out of the house.

My weekdays in Peru were spent talking with locals and working alongside them. Many of these days were spent learning about the textile industry. I consulted the local women about new products and the tradition behind this job. As the ladies weaved colorful yarns together, I listened to their stories and the textile industry’s role in their survival. I met women in rural communities and heard their stories. Then, we worked together to promote their products and increase their profit to best support the lifestyles of the indigenous women.

Every day around 12 pm, I would head to the Parish center to help Julia, Ines, and Estella cook in the kitchen for about 150 locals. In the white light flooded kitchen, Julia and Ines would harmoniously move around each other, stirring rice, meats, and potatoes in giant pots and pans. They would order everyone else around to wash dishes, shred chicken, or peel potatoes. As I sat on a small stool peeling potatoes and shredding chicken, I would try to follow along in their mixed dialects of Spanish and Quechua (native Incan language). In the kitchen, members of the town would come to volunteer their time to receive their meal plan. Estella and Julia taught me a thing or two about cooking and humility. They headed home after long days in the Parish kitchen to go and cook for their own families, always without complaint. These women are filled with wisdom and are integral to the community.

My job as a photojournalist turned the whole town into my playground. For a few weeks, I did a project on la Escuela de San Antonio in Huaro (a neighboring town of Andahuaylillas). The quaint school sits quietly between the mountains and farmland. The colorful doors of the ten rooms create a perfect tentagon filled with children and laughter. The school educates students with special needs, a rare specialty in Peru. During my time at the school, I met all the loving women and the beautiful children they teach. I listened to the stories of both the students and the teachers. I learned about their struggles and their achievements, about their new initiatives. The passion of the teachers brought the school to life. The teachers are kind, patient, and most importantly, they love their job. From my time in the school, I learned that the foundation of education should always be rooted in love and passion for growth.

Often, children would run through the green grass on the parish lawn waiting for me and my friend Juliana to come out and play. We’d find them knocking on our wooden door after school. Always, we would make our way to the parish and entertaining their cheerful conversations. We made up dances and games and were almost always barefoot. Within the walls of the parish center, so many relationships were formed, simply from the familiarity of greetings turned conversations.

Huatia (wah-ti-a) is a traditional oven made out of dirt that is extremely common in rural areas of Peru. A few times during my summer, I got to help build a Huatia. I watched in amazement as the locals constructed the dirt-made oven from dried farm lands. Block by block, the locals carefully built a dome or pyramid from rocks over a dirt pit, using gravity to hold the dome together. Once the dome was constructed, we inserted piles of sticks and straw into the opening of the dome. The straw was lit on fire inside the dome to create a protected flame. The locals would continue to feed straw into the fire until the blocks of the dome turned from a mudded brown to a charcoal black. Only then did we throw potatoes and peas right into the fire. Then they kicked over the dome with the potatoes still inside. The hot rocks would cook the potatoes to perfection. We sat around the farming field and peeled the warm potatoes with nothing but our dirty hands. It was the closest connection I have ever had to the food I ate. We shared cheese, potatoes, and homemade sauces while relaying stories of our families and traditions.

I was watching a Peruvian festival if I wasn’t visiting the schools, working on a project, cooking in the parish kitchen, or visiting the tiendas. I saw more festivals and parades in Peru than I have seen in my entire time in the States. June is the month of Cusco, celebrated through traditional parades and dances across the region. In Andahuaylillas, the festival of San Pedro is a 24-hour celebration honoring their patron saint. The entire town skips work to parade around the streets, watch children dance, and eat milanesa de pollo AKA- fried chicken. The crowd comes dressed

in traditional Incan costumes, Peruvians parade Catholic saints and traverse through the town. The cross-culturalism of the Incan and Catholic faiths were spectacularly meshed to create a beautiful story with a rich history.

The weekends were full of exploration all around the country.

First, I hiked to the “Montaña de Siete Colores” or “rainbow mountain”. I trekked to Machu Picchu, stopping in Ollantaytambo along the way. The views from these mountains were truly breathtaking. The ancient Incan city of Machu Picchu sits nestled in the Andes mountains. Like the millions of other tourists, I marveled at its impressive architecture, stunning views, and rich history. I embarked on a challenging hike to reach Rainbow Mountain that took approximately 6-7 hours round trip. 17,000 ft up, the trek took us through stunning landscapes and past traditional Andean villages, offering a mere glimpse into the rural way of life. The panoramic views of the surrounding valleys and mountains moved me.

The Encuentro program and being apart of comunidad dos allowed me to not only experience an authentic Peru, but it allowed me to reinvent the way I travel. While I do revel in seeing the tourist attractions and cannot pass a tour of one of the wonders of the world, the beauty of immersion isn't found in fancy hotels or in $100 adventure packages - it is in asking questions, peeling potatoes, and slowing down. 

My advice:

Slow down, and embrace a new culture from an unbiased perspective. You may learn something.

During my time in Andahuaylillas, I met so many people and truly got to

know their stories, struggles, happy places, what makes them laugh, and what makes them sad. But above all, I see all the more clearly that we are all the same at our core. We all have fears, laughs, friends, and families, and we are all complicated and beautifully flawed. I saw so much of Peru, and I enjoyed every second. While the sites are beautiful, the heart of a place lies in its people and their stories.