Living in Peru : your everyday companion

Cesar Klauer

The first time I landed foot in Chachapoyas, I almost stayed forever. Firstly, let us clarify some information. There is one thing that is usually mixed up about the city of Chachapoyas. It is the fact that people believe it to be in the jungle, surrounded by rivers and inhabited by colourful birds that squeak at the top of their voices. When I was getting ready to go there to visit my mother-in-law, my mother –the real one –asked me jokingly not to bring back parrots and feathered hats just like every tourist who goes to the orient of Peru. The actual fact is that Chachapoyas is at 2,200 meters above sea level and is guarded by massive high mountains. The reason for the misunderstanding is probably that it is located in the department of Amazonas, which is immediately connected to the river and thus to the jungle.

The city is small but cozy and welcoming. The good thing is that there are no combis or public buses: that's how small the city is. There, you can only enjoy the dry air, the smell of trees and eucalyptus leaves floating all around. You can even feel the coal burning in some old-style kitchen getting ready to deep-fry a guinea pig or rabbit. The streets are steep and life goes on at one kilometer an hour: you can literally see time passing in front of your eyes.

The attractions are mostly out of town: Kuélap. Carajía, Leymebamba and so on; but when you are there for the first time, you better look after yourself. The second day I was in town I was given a thorough tour of the city, which did not last long but took me to the highest part where the hill land becomes reddish: Cerro Colorado –  Red Hill. On the way to the top – where the road to the unused airport begins –there is a winding path that breaks into the mountain and up to a clearing from where you can admire the houses of red tiles, white thick walls and tall green trees: a watercolour painting at real-life scale. The exact place is not easily visible, a local must guide you. Once you have swerved through the plants and flies and managed to reach the top without tripping in the rocky stairs, you find yourself facing a kind of grotto made up with stones but no saint inside. What´s this? I asked my brother-in-law and peeked inside, Water? I said. My brother-in-law started laughing in a chorus with my wife and their mother. This is the Yanayacu well, he explained. The story is that it was built by Saint Toribio de Mogrovejo and anyone who drinks its water will stay in the city forever. I am not a superstitious man but the revelation freaked me out. They told me that the cases of sudden “Chachapollitis” are counted by the dozens and go as far as the times of the colony. The baker around the house drank it and stayed, said my mother-in-law, He is from Trujillo. I inspected her face looking for the smile but nothing happened. She was serious, or at least that´s what she wanted me to think. And the Tumbesino that works down at the post office also had a drink here and fell in love with the town, said my brother-in-law, his eyes fixed on the horizon. If you want, you can try it, my wife's mother probed me, You don't believe in those things, do you? I gave it a thought and came to the conclusion that they were just teasing me. Of course, I don't! I raised my arms in the air, pointed at the well with a funny grimace of disbelief, Superstitions with me? I´d drink it right away but I´m not thirsty just this minute, I explained as I licked my lips. They did not insist, I guess they believed me, they did not know me well enough.

When we came down, I spotted a little corner shop just a few paces away. I bought myself a cold Inca Kola, opened it quickly but then I stood stone cold: What if they make it with water from the well? You can never be too suspicious.