World of Wonders - New Years in Peru

I had heard that Peruvians believe that whatever you do for the New Year, you will do for the rest of the year. The Andes, and the ancient capital of Cusco are chilly even in summer, and I thought a warmer place had to be a good omen, and decided to head to the high jungle town of Quillabamba, perch ed between the Andes and the Amazon Basin.

A small fiasco at the bus station involved us cutting our losses on a bus that simply didn’t arrive, buying new tickets, and getting on the road to the BIG 12!!! (In good conditions it is a nine-hour ride to Quillabamba, and we did want to arrive before 2003).

At the spectacular terraces of the Inca fortress of Ollantaytambo the road makes a sharp right turn away from the railway track to Machu Picchu, and winds up through a series of hairpin bends over the Abra de Malaga. The railway once ran all the way to Quillabamba an important agricultural area for coca, coffee and tropical fruits but severe flooding in 1998 wiped out many sections of track that don’t appear on the list for repair.

As we climbed I couldn’t help but reflect that a night of pouring rain which continued forcefully in the morning was not a good omen for this narrow, soggy road cut out of sheer hillsides.

Though the summit was shrouded with clouds we were rewarded for a few moments with awesome views of snowcapped peaks and hillsides peppered with long, straight cascades. Fording small rivers, our bus continued downwards and then we rounded a corner and there it was... a landslide.

A section of the hillside and road had slipped away and trucks and buses were banked up on both sides – we groaned, thinking “here goes our dreams of a New Years in warm climes.” Arriving at the mass of fresh dirt covering the road, we were somewhat heartened by the fact that only 20 metres of road was impassable and men were on the landslide digging away with their hands, sticks, and stones. But then again, there was an awful lot of dirt to move before a roadway would be made, and only two shovels in sight!

Clearing the landslide by hand

As women definately did not work on the landslide I sheltered from the freezing conditions in the bus with the other females. Unbeknowns to us, the driver had decided to lock the bus, thus trapping more than twenty women and children inside.

Two hours later an elderly lady was hysterical, children needed to pee badly, babies were crying and a generally claustrophobic feeling was clutching my heart. Babies were passed out through the windows swinging in their mantas (a brightly coloured shawl used by the Peruvian Indians to carry goods and babies), and the rest of us followed, leaving the old lady wailing to God in the bus.

By late afternoon at least 100 people had accumulated on either side of the landslide watching the 50 men who were working on the landslide. Every time there was movement in the rocks above everyone would shout and whistle, as boulders came rolling down. I couldn’t help but reflect that the rest of the mountain could go just as easily.

Miraculously in four short hours, the men had dug a road through the muddy dirt and were paving it with rocks – a little more confusing than it seems because half thought that the paving should be done with big rocks and the other half with small rocks! Thus the big rock believers would move the small rocks away from the roadway! All I could think is, “Come on guys, you are the descendants of the Incas!”

Sunset illuminated the snowcaps fiery red as the roadway was declared fit for a bus. Remember, these are not small buses but 50 seaters with high suspensions for jungle roads. The bus flew up onto the makeshift roadway, and then dismayingly sunk into the soggy soil at an incredible angle, perched over an almost sheer hillside with a 200-metre drop!

At that stage, with my lips and fingers frozen I silently gave up on my New Years Eve plans, but the men continued working at the axles of the see sawing bus, piling stones under the tyres and then employing a truck to pull the bus out. The crowd cheered as another bus was pulled through, and then another.

We made it to Quillabamba before midnight – the dark muggy muddy streets were filled with the smoke of fires burning old clothes (it is considered good luck to burn old clothes and wear new ones on New Years). Tropical heat, combined with the smoke and the sounds of crackers and fireworks culminated in the surreal sense we had just arrived in a battlefield.

Nonetheless we changed into our brand new yellow undies for good luck and were sipping a cold beer when 2003 arrived! We were showered in a flurry of yellow confetti that is thought to be fortuitous and then remains on the streets for weeks, and as we continued to make toasts we munched on white grapes also considered fortunate. Having followed as many Peruvian traditions on New Years as possible, this one should be a good one!

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