Cajamarca, Perú, wasn’t originally on my anticipated route for this trip…mostly because I’d never even heard of it. But then, through the grapevine of travelers and the good ol´ Interwebs, the news of this countryside treasure started surfacing: Cajamarca is Perú’s capital of both cheese and Carnival. Swoon. I instantly thought it would be worth deviating from my ever-so-sacred PLAN.

But when Nora and I arrived two days too late for the main day of festivities of Carnival, I feared I’d made a terrible mistake for stopping in the town. I silently cursed myself: “This is why you like plans! Don´t try to mess with your brilliant schedule!” In time, though, everything in Cajamarca worked out.

A snapshot of Cajamarca, Perú: Every surface is like a time capsule with paint splotches telling the annual stories of epic Carnival celebrations. Culture saturates the narrow streets of cheese shops that line every road to historic hillsides and plazas. The dozens of varieties from blue to swiss to gouda come straight from the cows moo-ing in green pastures just outside Cajamarca´s city center. Antiquity follows there, too — at the stone baths where the elite Incas once bathed and the battleground where the last king of their empire was conquered and killed. 

Cajamarca

Jungle gym and basketball court turned soccer field near a row of houses.

The queso: My oh my, is Cajamarca´s claim to fame their cheese. I had my fair share (twice) at Don Paco´s, a little restaurant with a unique menu near the main plaza. I ordered spinach stuffed ravioli in Cajamarca’s famous creamy cheese sauce, which seemed to be a blend of swiss, ricotta, parmesan and blue cheese. I´m convinced this dish is why the phrase “to die for” originated. It was true for me at least, considering the amount of delicious dairy consumed was enough to have me popping my lactose allergy pills like crazy. So worth it.

Nearby pastures at a dairy farm.

Cheeeeese. The best ravioli you will ever dream about.

The canciones: After ending up in a Cajamarca void of the raging Carnival festivities of water fights and processions, we were a bit disappointed. To kill some time, we wandered to a hole-in-the-wall bar tucked away on a side street, and found an incredible surprise. The bar, Usha Usha, was empty minus the owner Jaime Valera and his son, Alejandro. Regardless of our private audience, they still took out their guitars to perform — as they have at their establishment every night for the past 15 years. Their friend Victor also eventually joined on guitar and Alejandro played drums on a wooden stool.

They took us on a tour of the world through music from around the globe, introducing each cancion (song) with information of its origin and history. Their voices were so rich, full of passion and especially patriotism when they sang a Peruvian tune. The Spanish langauge sounded more beautiful than I’ve ever heard it before as I lost myself in the lyrics and perfect harmonies.  My favorite song was Alejandro´s rendition of “Amor Perdido” (“Lost Love”), although the trio also obliged us with a Beatles medley and a Chilean classic.

For a few hours, we talked with them about life and love through their beautiful music and wise conversation. It was one of those moments I didn’t want to ever end. As much as I wanted to pull out my camera and tape it, I didn’t want to interrupt the experience and decided not to. Although I am a journalist at heart, I still believe some things are better experienced first hand instead of from behind a camera lens or with the distraction of pen and paper. Sitting there, I knew I could “bring” myself back to that moment, with or without a recording. I hope to continue to play those songs in my head, like an old record, something you search for in storage and put on because you need to go back to the good ol’ days for a just a moment.

The heart and soul of Usha Usha. Victor, Jaime and Alejandro. Photo courtesy of viajeros.com

And finally, some carnival: Eventually, Nora and I even got a taste of some Carnival, despite arriving after the main day of festivities. Just outside Cajamarca, the locals gathered at Baños del Inca for a Carnival concert and procession. And although it wasn’t the “day” for water and paint fights, the enthusiastic youth were all in anyway.

Trucks parked near plaza sidewalks to house water fill up stations for squirt guns, water balloons and just plain old buckets. Although the fights mainly kept to those who were equipped to retaliate, anyone is fair game in Carnival season and I witnessed a few old ladies in traditional wear get completely soaked. One lady beat her attacker over the head with her hard wide-brimmed hat, much to the amusement of all his teenage allies. Luckily for me, everyone was quite respectful of my electronics, and I safely captured the fun on my camera.

Baños del Inca

Water fights.

Water fight on wheels!

Locals trying to escape the paint and water fights.

Now, that´s just cold.

I love how this old lady is looking at the water bomb she just escaped.

Watching the procession.

This guy from the procession doesn´t look too happy to pose with me. Haha.

Overall, Cajamarca wasn´t anything I expected or planned for it to be. It was better. And I was once again reminded that the new experiences that can come from change and spontaneity are worth the risk of unknowns and possible disappointments.

–JDF