I was at my office typing one afternoon in Iquitos, Peru when the cashier closed all the shutters and peaked out the crack in the door to see if the marchers were going to smash things. All the places around the area had been shuttered from early on, and I only got into my office because I go there every day to have a diet soda while I sit and type or sometimes just gaze into space wondering how to put into words my next masterpiece of prose about life and stuff. Others were shut out, including the protesters who might very much have enjoyed looting the ice cream palace I work inside of. And when I saw the girl peaking out the door I asked if she was expecting violence. She nervously said yes, which is why she and all the other folks in the area had locked up and turned out the lights. I took this as a sign from the gods that I should go out and take photos.
I had a handbill from the day before announcing the manifestation, but I forgot about it till I saw it happening. I had to chase after the crowd, all well-behaved folks from what I could see. I haven't got an stake in anything they do, so I simply took the best shots I could with my cheapy camera, hoping for some high drama.
Clearly the demonstration is all about Inca Cola, which I can't really support, the general consensus, which I agree with, being that it tastes like bubble gum and too much sugar. But others like it enough to wave banners and tie up traffic in support.
A demonstration here, usually, is a peaceful thing, fun for the whole family. Not always, as the history of the Sendero Luminoso will tell the careful reader or one with some memory of the time. This nation can be truly off the map when it comes to psycho violence. Today, Inca Cola for the masses.
Or something. Maybe just laying back and enjoying a bit of festivity with ones mates. Serious yes, but social.Fun for the whole family.
Or something. The man with the best-looking flag kept getting it caught up in the breeze. I will keep guessing it's all about Inca Cola.
As hyper-political as I can be about my own home, here in Iquitos and most other places in the world I really don't care so long as the soda keeps flowing. Thus, I notice the important things in life, like life.
The life of the living is so distracting from politics that I have to call this post to a close. It's time for a diet soda and some chat with the locals. Dos Inca Colas, por favor, girls!
A gentle reminder that my book, An Occasional Walker, is available at the link here:
Occasional-Walker-D-W/dp/ 0987761501/ref=sr_1_1?s=books& ie=UTF8&qid=1331063095&sr=1-1
And here are some reviews and comments on said book: