Sr. Torrechayoc

     Since our arrival in Urumbamba the locals have spared no energy informing us of how lucky we are to be volunteering during the time of the festival of Senor de Torrechayoc, the martyr whom after their church has been named. Two contrasting opinions solidified in the weeks before the festivities- those who adored the dancing, the ribaldry, the crowds that swarm in from neighboring cities, and those who despised the way in which a religious holiday had turned into an excuse to become incomprehensibly drunk for a span of 8 days, or were fearful for the safety of their homes from foreign rateros (thieves). My careful, teetotaling family made sure to always have a family member in the house to guard against the infamous rateros who made their way to Urumbamba every year to prey on the homes of unsuspecting drunks. 

     The inaugural Sunday arrived, and our host niece took my roommate and me to see a series of dances performed by locals sporting the most elaborate costumes that I had ever seen, the most ludicrous being the Diablada dance, in which very revealing fairies, fallen angels and devils danced alongside a variety of different sized gorillas. It was nice to see that the dancing was a family affair- next to the trained dancers small children (also adorably decked in extravagance identical to their parents) fluttered around, some trying to mimic their parent's complex footsteps, others plodding indecisively around the field. My favorite was a baby in a tiny gorilla costume perched atop his gorilla-father's shoulders for the entire ten minute dance, looking utterly confused the whole time.  

     

     The first few hours were quite interesting, but upon the third of sitting in the hot sun on concrete bleachers, each dance began to run into the next. And then the fourth and then the fifth. By the sixth we were huddled on cold concrete bleachers, no longer as enthralled by this display of Peruvian culture as we were in the morning.
     That night however, renewed our enthusiasm. We went to the office (conveniently next to the church), in front of which had been erected 3 multi-story spindly structures, apparently laced with fireworks. The first one was lit at 10 o'clock, Peruvian time (really 10:30) and we watched in awe as wooden spinners shot green and red sparks over our heads. Each structure put on around a seven minute show, complete with wooden wreathes that were shot -flaming- into the air, and then fell (still smoldering) into the audience. Before this spectacle, however, was one of a more dangerous events of the festival- an errant firework had landed on a woodpile next to our office and threatened to envelop it in flames. All of the volunteers, tipsy to the point of bravery, shot in through the gates and found empty buckets to hand to the frantic -and unlicensed- pyrotechnicians who had already scaled the wall and were shouting to each other in Quechua, the native language. Our director Kate frantically called the stoves boss, Jaime, who (under the impression that the office was being robbed, and calling upon his days as the night watchman) abandoned the festivities and ran into the courtyard with his fists bared, ready to hand-fight the dreaded rateros. 
     The next day was the parade, in which all of the dancers re-performed their Saturday dances throughout the streets of Torrechayoc. This was a bit more festive than the previous day, as each dance troupe displayed only their most perfected moves, rather than all ten minutes of the dance.  

     After the parade I got lunch with the Cusco group (a delicious American cheeseburger- perhaps an inappropriate meal amidst such a display of culture, but my cravings for American foods has reached somewhat obsessive), read in the office for a bit, then went home to dinner. The rest of Urumbamba, however, was just warming up for 6 more days of festivities. It wasn't until yesterday (the final and 8th day of the festival) that we heard our final percussion instruments and saw the last group of drunk individuals stagger arm in arm down the street.