55. Abancay, Peru

55.

Abancay, Peru:

Here in a deep tropical valley surrounded by towering mountains is the most beautiful town site I have ever seen. The lower slopes of the mountains are covered by a patchwork of fields in every shade of green so the farmers up there must work extra hard.

The town people are mellow and men and women wear floppy felt hats that make them all look like gnomes.

There is one good touristic hotel in town (too expensive for me) and three el cheapo pensions-- but plumbing seems a problem so the whole town stinks. What a pity.

I’m hiking on a footpath out of town when some little boys overtake me. One opens his school lunchbox. There is nothing in it but coca leaves from which cocaine is extracted. I recognize them because I have seen piles of them for sale in every market in these hills. “Do you know how to eat these?” he asks, giving me a handful. The boys walk with me while I chew a few. The path begins to glow.

The boys urge me to hurry past one adobe hut where they say a “bad man” lives. I trust these little kids and hurry past the house. I am really getting to appreciate the straightforward honesty of children.

The boys leave me by the bank of a clear mountain stream. Icy water is rushing over a bed of colorful pebbles. There are lots of wildflowers: purple rabbity faces and blue and white daisies, yellow butterflies and slow bumblebees cruising two by two… It is a wonderful afternoon.

...