From Mancora to Matrimonio

"Dios nos amo. Pueden sentarse". And down goes the crowd again. It must be around the 10th time that we sat down and stood up, but no one else seems to have a problem with that. Indiocracia is what they call it here. The way the people percieve the world. Sitting down, and standing up again. For God.
But I don't complain. Rodolfo has brought me to a wedding of his ex student. It looks a lot like in american movies. With the spouse comming in at the end, guided by the typical music offcourse.
While the preacher speaks about why we should not sin, my mind wanders back to the things that happened in Mancora, where I left this morning. They say Mancora is the most beautifull beach of Peru.
Cold and windy I would call it, but the atmosphere of the Pueblo is nice.

WE came on the perfect moment, because at twelve O'clock, the 14th of November, the city existed exactly 100 years. This was celebrated with musica Creoilla on the main square, as is tyipically done in Peru. The crowd (around fifteen hundred perivian hombres and mujeres I would guess) happily sang along with the songs. I only danced, while Luis tried to teach me the lyrics.
Midnight ignited a tower of fireworks. It quickly became hard to make out if it was more interesting to look at the tower or at the glancing faces behind us, but all in all the night was entertaining.

The day after that, I met a guy twice, who was so loco, that when he spoke it was impossible to tell where truth ended and total bullshit began.
Bold head, a pretty rough face. Arms with insane muscles, but his birh year is 1952. Ragged leather clothes, and very sweet laugh. For those who know Olivier: he looked scarily like him. He told me he was a Norwegian fugitive, running from several governments, that he used to be a gangster, that he co-founded christiania but that his mission is to build some kind of light caves where people who enter it become part of a common brain. Not now, but when time is ready offcourse. We had a lot in common: interest in numerology, shamanic healing, and the fact that we both seem to do things in our own way, pretty much ignoring advises and rules. His presence is powerfull and scary, but there is some gentleness deep inside. He invited me to a Shamanic Ritual in Huancabamba, somewhere next week. I don´t think I can make it, but I'm waiting for is call in case it was no lie, and see what happens then. But as I said, hard to tell with this guy.

The couple stands up. Finally. Both speak their vows. Family members speak some words, the preacher does his thing with a cup, we throw some rice, and it's time to go to the party. We step into the car with Rodolfo, Becky and her mother, and go straight to the country club.

Now this place got style. Ok, it is a little citchy, but that is normal in Peru, because the people don't have so much money. When I look through that, I see a red carpet welcoming us to a bunch of cocktails made of algarrobo (the plant I'm researching). We walk below a lightened arc. Our company of four meets another company of four, and as the tables happen to have eight seats, the eight of us go to sit next to the dancing area. The dancing area is marked by the hexagonal tent above it, and a stage behind. That's where the orchestra will play.
The night begins with the dance of the husband and the spouse. Then, both dance with all the family members of their family (we are unlucky, coz the husband happens to have a lot of uncles and aunts), the bouquet gets thrown, and then there's space for the guests to dance.
As the night unfolds, I learn that parties here work as followed: you eat or drink something, then you ask a girl to dance, you dance, and you go back to your seat. "An ideal way to dance with all the pretty girls", I think. So that is what I do. While I do it, I do all my best to behave slightly according to the rules of the dancefloor. But I know that with my tall posture and hairy hippy face, I have failed as soon as I enter it. My clothes are pretty chique nevertheless. I even wear a tie...

Suddenly, just when I'm about to leave, the atosphere changes completely. La hora loca! People scream. In an instant, the dominating colours change from black and white to all the colours of the rainbow. Baloons and painted faces enter the dancefloor, and the dance that was first so full of control turns into a crowd of people jumping around. I'm like a fish in the sea.

But as all good things come to an end, so does this party and at around 4 o'clock, I decide I'm tired and go home. I solve my problem with the lock by climbing in through the window, and fall into a deep sleep.