Yesterday afternoon I walked up to the San Cristóbal church with my classmate Jeanie. We did not get to take a look inside, but the views of the city were nice. Those clouds are very rare in Cusco, but they made for some nice pictures. In the plaza next to the church, there was a guy selling handmade necklaces and bracelets. He began speaking to us in English and as soon as he found out we were from the US, he immediately broke into a rant on the evils of capitalism and explained to us that our country is the origin of all the world's problems. He didn't seem to understand that that wasn't the best way to make a friend. The best part was, right after he had been denouncing capitalism, he tried to get us to buy something from him.
The second photo was taken from a balcony a couple of streets down the hill from the church. I love those tile roofs. There is a story here, too: while we were enjoying the views of town, we were approached by two Cusco police officers. No, we were not violating the law posted on the sign in the third picture, whose wording was just too funny not to capture on film. Rather, they just wanted to chat, or avoid having to work. Whatever the case, we ended up talking to them for over an hour. It reminded me of the days in Mérida's Plaza Grande, where we would often sit and chat with the local
viejitos about just about anything. It was just an afternoon in Cusco, with a reminder of why it is sometimes difficult to be an American in a foreign country, and another, of why I love Latin America.
The second photo was taken from a balcony a couple of streets down the hill from the church. I love those tile roofs. There is a story here, too: while we were enjoying the views of town, we were approached by two Cusco police officers. No, we were not violating the law posted on the sign in the third picture, whose wording was just too funny not to capture on film. Rather, they just wanted to chat, or avoid having to work. Whatever the case, we ended up talking to them for over an hour. It reminded me of the days in Mérida's Plaza Grande, where we would often sit and chat with the local viejitos about just about anything. It was just an afternoon in Cusco, with a reminder of why it is sometimes difficult to be an American in a foreign country, and another, of why I love Latin America.
1 comment:
Maybe, just for fun, we should hang up a sign--in Spanish--like that in the JFSB somewhere just to see what happens.
And maybe that anti-capitalist capitalist man just wants to join in the destruction of the world?
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