Second Invasion?

Where the Wild Things Are: Huaraz, Peru?

Eight hours north of Lima is the small city of Huaraz, nestled in-between the snowcapped Cordillera Blanca and uncapped Cordillera Negra mountain ranges. There, the adherence to tradition, combined with the traffic of adventure tourism, yields a community that is at once insular and cosmopolitan.  Thai curries are served alongside Andean beans and quinoa, Tweety bird´s face is plastered beside Che Guevara´s on the side of a mototaxi, and a MFA graduate can find an incredible library of contemporary English writing, including three volumes of the Best American Nonrequired Reading.  Waiters, security guards, and taxi drivers may not study English, but their ears are well-trained to understand a Spanish-speaking gringa´s accent.  

This unexpected nuance is true of many Peruvian cities, including the well-known tourist destinations of Cusco and Arequipa.  They seem better equipped to meet the needs and expectations of English-speaking tourists than the megacity of Lima, home to nearly 9 million Peruvians.

There´s an easy explanation for this: it´s all about the money. Lima merely serves as a stopover city for most tourists, while Cusco, Arequipa, and even smaller mountainous cities like Huaraz become prime travel destinations. According to Peru This Week, some 700,000 tourists of the 2.7 million expected to travel to Peru this year will visit Cusco, the ancient capital of the Incan empire and cultural hub en route to Machu Picchu. The traffic generates huge revenues for the city, so catering to a tourist´s every need has become one of the government´s biggest missions.

When I studied in Cusco, my professor referred to the tourist phenomenon as the city´s ¨second invasion, ¨ showing us a painting in which the stars and stripes of the American flag hang prominently next to the Spanish flag and the tribute Incan flag in the city´s Plaza de Armas.

Che + dolphin + Batman on a mototaxi in Huaraz.

In Arequipa, our twenty-something-year-old tour guide´s language was more P.C. and optimistic, explaining that he had resumed studies at a local university in hopes of one day giving travelers a genuine local experience without exploiting natives.  But as outsiders, how can we ever be sure we´re welcome, or at the very least, that our presence isn´t invasive? 

There´s no simple answer to that question—and never will be—but for me, a conversation with the resident security guard of the Wilkawaín ruins near Huaraz put my mind at ease for a brief moment.  He asked me what my favorite Peruvian food was, to which I responded pollo a la brasa (rotisserie chicken served with French fries). 

And can you get pollo a la brasa in your hometown?, he inquired.

I nodded. He grinned back at me, proud that even some city he´s never heard of serves the same chicken he´s eaten his whole life.