Leaving Cajamarca, I headed back to the coast – to Trujillo, a large city of not much interest. Spent a few days wandering around the colonial centre viewing the pretty architecture and large square; but as one moves away from the center the city quickly devolves into urban blight. In an example of the law of unintended consequences, in 1990 the city banned buses from the city center in trying to decrease smog and traffic. Unfortunately this lack of buses caused an explosion of taxis, resulting in far worse air and sound pollution.
I’ve only been in Peru a few weeks and already I’ve witnessed several demonstrations and parades. There must be a rich tradition of protest here. One particularly grueling incident occurred in 1932 when angry union strikers attacked and killed 10 army soldiers. In retaliation the government rounded up 1,000 union members and summarily executed them by firing squad.
The demonstrations I’ve witnessed have varied from schoolchildren protesting energy reduction (?) to workers striking. The parades have varied from schools celebrating their founding to religious (Catholic) endeavors. Lots of these. One night as I was wandering around I heard the sound of a marching band. Like a moth drawn to the flame, I sought the source. Imagine if you will several hundred people dressed in black solemnly walking the streets. Leading the charge were about 20 dancers in ordered rows wearing costumes made from burlap bags and in blackface. Next came a drum line in the same outfits and makeup. Then came the devout women. Many holding crosses, worry beads, or photos of saints. A couple dozen of them held aloft an effigy of Mary, carrying it the way pallbearers carry a casket. She was life-sized, standing on a large elaborate rostrum, and surrounded by hundreds of roses neatly arranged. Since this was at night, she was lit by a halo of dozens of compact fluorescent bulbs surrounding her.
Next came the men. They were holding aloft an effigy as well – this one was of Judas. Arcing over his head was a halo of neon lights spelling out “San Judas Tadea”. The electrical cord for his neon and flood lights strung back to several people holding it aloft with sticks, and eventually back to a pickup truck with a generator in the back. A kid was playing the role of cable puller.
Between the two effigies was the priest in all his garbous robes, talking on a megaphone, and surrounded by a small cadre of incense swingers.
Bringing up the rear was the band – only about a half-dozen players, all middle-aged men, they were fantastic. Clarinet, horns, snare, bass drum. All wearing matching black suits but not marching in formation, just strolling along casually to the beat. And what a beat it was! Happy, catchy, in the New Orleans second-line style (to my ears. I’d love to know what they call it here).
I loved it! This is not the sort of thing that’s listed in any guidebooks or websites, yet happens all the time. It’s probably the special day of the patron saint for that particular congregation – not notable enough to make the news or guides, yet wonderful for a tourist to come upon.
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