Yesterday we took a bus from Ollantaytambo into Cuzco, and were met by all our host families for a reception in Centro Tinku, where our classes will be held starting next week. My host parents are actually grandparents. They have four children who are all grown and most of whom are married with children. One daughter lives in New Jersey and another in Washington state. My host mother, Socorro, is a teacher, and my host father, Romero, is the director of a big rural development project in the area surrounding a large copper mine several hours from Cuzco. The couple seems pretty wealthy, at least by Peruvian standards. They have a 3-story house and a maid, Rosita, who is 24 and speaks Quechua in addition to Spanish. One of Socorros’s sisters also owns a farm in the Sacred Valley (the “Sacred Valley” actually refers to a large area that includes Ollantaytambo), and Socorro and four other sisters all have little houses there at which they like to spend the weekends. So about an hour after arriving in Cuzco on Friday, my host parents drove me 45 minutes back in the direction from which I had just come to their little house in “el campo.” There’s not very much excitement in “el campo” for someone my age, but the couple seems very nice and I’m looking forward to meeting more of the extended family, especially the grandkids.
A word about food. It occurred to me yesterday that almost all of the food I’ve eaten since I’ve gotten here has been locally grown and produced. It’s nice to be in a place where that’s the norm rather than the exception. So far everything I’ve eaten has been quite good (although I admit I have had a couple very strong cravings for processed sugar and grease). Yesterday when we arrived at the country house, Socorro told me that we were going over to her sister’s house for “segundos,” which literally means “seconds.” Romero later explained to me that “segundo” normally refers to the third dish in a 3-course meal (there’s the “entrance” plate, the first course, and then, logically, the second). However, in this particular case it just meant that we were going to have another meal on top of the sandwiches Socorro and I had just eaten at the reception. The “entrance” dish at her sister’s house consisted of home-grown choclo (the corn I referred to earlier) and home-made cheese, followed by a delicious soup made from choclo, and for the real “segundo,” potatoes in a red pepper sauce. I had not anticipated anything more than a light snack, and so by the time the third plate of food came around I absolutely could not finish it. For this reason Socorro’s mother thought I hadn’t liked it. In general, if you leave so much as a bit of food on your plate, Peruvians either say that you didn’t like it or that you’re watching your weight. Saying that you’re “full” is really only an option for foreigners like me who don’t know any better. All I can say is I’m glad they don’t eat as much food at night as they do during the day.
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