Pounding the narrow sidewalks of Trujillo, I gradually reduced the six blocks of concrete that separated me from Sunday morning Mass at St. Dominic’s (4/25). Two men were just a few steps ahead of me. Both wore faded blue jeans, almost a requirement here. Just across the street a teenager was walking alone, carrying her bundled baby, which, by the size of it, had just seen daylight. On these walks I am always jolted by at least six different cabbies’ horns. They see me with a black bag slung over the shoulder, walking tall, and they instinctively take me for a tourist and want to give me a lift. What they don’t know is that I know there are eleven thousand yellow cabs in the city, and they run bumper-to-bumper in the “Centro Historico,” the city center of this regional capital, and a mere nod on my part brings a flood of yellow, day or night.
The very names of the streets here are enough to carry one back centuries. Bolivar Street led me past the Hospital Belen. Founded in 1551 and in continuous use for its 459 years, it is a gray, two-storey building covering a full city block, framed by streets with the names of Spanish conquistadores like Pizarro and Gamarra. Today it caters to the poor, though interestingly, it was originally constructed near the church of Santa Ana, which catered at that time to the Indians.
Continuing my journey, I pass the church of St. Augustine. Like all twelve churches in the historic center, it was constructed between the 16th and 18th centuries, following the founding of the city in March of 1534 by Diego de Almagro, who named it after Francisco Pizarro’s hometown.
When I got to St. Dominic’s, I had time to stroll down a side aisle. A plaque high on a wall drew my attention. It read as follows: “This chapel was built by the donations of slaves, both men and women, in 1641.” The donations, I concluded, had been their manual labor, for rarely did a slave earn money at that time.
Life was harch then, and as I walked, a panorama unfolded before me that seemed not to have changed over the centuries. A little old lady was selling newspapers and magazines at her portable stand that choked off the flow of pedestrians. She wasn’t alone. One lady was seated right on the sidewalk with her little son standing beside her as she hawked oranges from a box. Another young lady hovered over her portable gas stove. She was cleaning and packaging hard-boiled quail’s eggs. They come six or eight to a bag, but you can buy them singly and dip one into salt, as I did to my great satisfaction.
Each of these women had carved her niche in an economy that is the livelihood of 50% of Peruvians. The minimum wage in the formal economy here is 560 soles per month, and it covers just 35% of the country’s labor force ( 2.90 soles equal $1.00 US). The Sol has weathered the global financial downturn and is recognized as the stablest of all the South American currencies. A worker puts in a 10- to 12-hour day, six days a week. I was talking to a clerk at a dry-goods store recently. She informed me that when her boss asks her to extend her workday, she has to do so, with no extra pay. This girl came from Tarapoto, a city deep in the Amazon basin, which is to the east of the Andes. The Andes have two ranges as they extend north to south in Peru, effectively splitting the country into several geographical areas. This girl, Josi, bussed across the Andes to reach the west coast of the country in hopes of finding work with better pay than in her hometown. She is fortunate: she has work and a place to stay with another girl, just upstairs from the store.
Everywhere I go, people are in need. There are beggars, many of them crippled and unable to work. Their hand thrusts out from their seated position in search of a living. In 2008 12.6% of Peruvians were living in extreme poverty. This is a sizable number in a total population of 30 million. If poor people don’t ask for help, they still live from hand to mouth, with no leftovers for a mutual fund, a retirement check, or an insurance policy. Pedro Pablo Kuczynski, perhaps the most respected economist in Peru, argues that the informal economy should be assisted to join the formal economy. Were this to happen, he avers, government collections would rise through income taxes and contributions, but in return the street peddlers would have a stake in their future security through the entitlements they paid for.
Kuczynski’s latest book, Peru Porvenir, offers a detailed vision of a Peru investing its poor with a sense of self-worth and belonging, through the crucial sectors of the economy on his list: education, healthcare and infrastructure. This last includes roads, roads of asphalt that will carry the products of Andean agriculture quickly down to the cities. Noting that the Andean peasant-farmer represents the poorest sector of society, he argues that these farmers could produce much better, and much more, with storage centers, roads, technical advice and development banks to raise their standard of living.
Kuczynski is dedicated to the goal of raising the larger population out of poverty. He is a renowned economist, with both governmental and corporate experience, at home and in the U.S., and he currently sits on a commission at the World Bank. In fact, he is an announced candidate for president in the elections of 2011.
Yet, it takes more than an economist’s purview of Peru to advance the views of Kuczynski. His writings reflect the heart and soul of a humanist, a man who seeks to reawaken the concerns of Christianity, harmonizing them with a specific set of objectives that resound to the achievement of both.
The city of Trujillo clearly experiences the pulsebeat of poverty, its travails modified daily by events that reflect the country as a whole. Gangs flourish in marginal sectors of the city, and La Industria, the major newspaper here, gives full coverage to the criminals, ages 20 to 33, that vie for “shakedown” territory. The polic chief just declared, after two particularly bloody weeks of murders, that 99.9% of those are attributable to “payback.” All of the 20 or more “executions” have taken place in broad daylight, with witnesses, yet few of these criminals are brought to justice. The mayor has called for a thousand-man increase in the police force. While I was sitting at this very computer at 12:30, an hour ago, shots rang out. Four adult men, members of a gang called “marca,” grabbed a man who had just left the bank around the corner, about 30 yards from where I type. This small bank has a constant line of people waiting to pay bills, and there are armed guards both inside and outside of the place. The shots were followed by sirens. That night (May 17) the family and I watched the news. A man who had just withdrawn a large amount of money from the bank was being forced into the robbers’ car. The police ordered the robbers to stop; they didn’t but instead drew pistols and began firing at the police. The police drew guns and fired back with deadly accuracy. One man was killed, another wounded, and the other two ended up cuffed and sprawled in the back of a police pickup truck, heading home. For once the law came out on top, even though, as reported later, one of the men involved was an ex-cop.
Peru has been recognized as a mineral-rich country, dating from colonial and earlier times. Currently, 50% of its exports by value derive from gold, copper and zinc. According to the magazine Doing Business, Peru has the best business climate in South America. Its annual growth rate of about 8% clearly outpaces its neighbors, and even this year it is expected to maintain a healthy 5%. Agroindustry is also a pace-setting growth industry, particularly in this region. Asparagus, paprika and processed milk are the leaders.
Aviculture is a dynamic sector here, also, and it is reflected in the loads of restaurants that feature chicken, “a la brasa” and “broaster.” One of the famous dishes is “aji de gallina,” shredded chicken cooked in a pan with hot spices. Another famous plate here is “cebiche.” Since the country has a long coastline, it is not surprising that it would feature this seafood dish consisting of raw fish, cured in lime juice and spices.
With regard to food consumption, carbohydrates clearly surpass the meat and vegetable palate of a minority. No meal, whether at home or at a restaurant, is served without a pyramid or donut of rice, a few slices of yucca and an order of french fries, or beans at a home. A piece of chicken or a few bites of beef add flavor. This is sometimes accompanied by a salad, consisting of three slices of a cold, boiled potato, with an underliner of lettuce, all topped with a sauce that is spicy or tangy but never neutral. Soups are popular and tasty and often combine with noodles and slices of potatoes.
Mornings find passersby and regulars huddled around portable restaurants, i.e., a couple of gas burners heating ingredients for a sandwich. A lady might be pumping coffee from a thermos into a cup, handing it gently to an early customer in jeans and sneakers. At night it’s not too hard to find a corner broiler curing a dozen sticks of “anticuchos” which, at five bites of the famed “heart of beef” for a Sol, is a good deal. Chicken claws are also on the grill, especially at night. Fruits of all kinds dominate a lot of corners downtown, any many of them offer a glass of juice. Still other stands offer bags of nuts and habas, while some have only packaged items like gum, candy bars and cigarettes.
It is these kinds of small businesses that Kuzynski would like to see operating in the formal economy. They are already licensed, and those selling food must have undergone a blood test. A small fee could form the basis of a social security check in their future. It seems a smal sacrifice on the part of vendors to assure a retirement income and healthcare. This shadow economy would have to keep records and pay income tax when earnings reached c. $3200 U.S. annually, an insurmountable figure for many if not most. Meantime, this would raise their national consciousness, as well as their dignity at being businessmen and women.
The twelve churches that stand in the central district all arose during the colonial period. They hold beautiful gilded retables and side-aisle shrines that draw the faithful to quiet contemplation. Just a few days ago, on the 27th of April, the Catholic Church, worldwide, celebrated the feast of St. Toribio, the first canonized saint of the New World (1726). He had been a considerate lawyer associated with the Inquisition in southern Spain when he was named by the Vatican as the new archbishop of Lima, Peru.
The new bishop arrived in Lima in 1581 and set to work immediately. He learned the two dominant native languages of Quechua and Aymara and was soon able to preach in them. He established the first seminary on the continent, required the priests to learn and preach in one of the native tongues. He convoked three episcopal councils, drawing bishops from as far away as Nicaragua and Buenos Aires. Of the twenty-five years of his episcopate, he spent seventeen of them traveling through his diocese, which included the area from Lima north to Quito, Ecuador. Walking and hiking were the only means he had to fulfill his duties, but in his pastoral visits, he revitalized the Catholic Church in Peru. His heroic efforts in visiting the Andean settlements and communities of the Andes; the tropical forest tribes that placed him often in grave danger. Rivers were crossed in every climate, and he and a small coterie of assistants had tosleeep under the stars. A detailed record of his visits, together with the names of the priests whom he visited, the issues of justice for the Indians, the number of confirmations, the record of assets and debts of the parishes: all this is available and is published. St. Toribio died in 1606, while on his last grueling visit. Today he is the revered patron of all of South America’s bishops.
Masses that I have attended here in Trujillo all have the same hymns and melodies for the common, and I was told that this follows requirements. The Gloria brings out the American Civil War staple, “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” with stress on the “Halleluyas.” “Michael rowed the boat ashore” comes in second place. Except on Sundays, the only one singing the common of the Mass is the organist.
If I were to characterize the people in this region in one word, it would be “tolerant.” For three years now I have seen no change in those Mass hymns and little participation. Taxis jam the inner-city, show no deference to pedestrians at cross-streets, and their horns play a cacaphony of disparate sounds and pitches at the slightest inconvenience. Last week’s newspaper ran its “50 years ago” piece, recalling that the police then were ordered to enforce a “no horns except in emergencies” ordinance.
The city fathers published notice of a heavy fine for drivers who don’t fasten their seatbelts, but this rule sees little application, which suggests that the police are indifferent. It is normal for vehicles to nose into the smallest breech in traffic, horns ablaze. They drive on the line that separates the lanes. Left-hand turns from right-hand lanes are normal. Although signal lights can be counted on one hand, Mayor Acuna just announced that 41 new signal lights will be installed. According to the latest study, 111 are needed.
A ribbon of yellow taxis flows through the central district, far in excess of need. A few months ago Peru’s taxi drivers were supposedly acknowledged as having the highest education level among their counterparts elsewhere. Whatever else it may reflect is anyone’s guess, but it certainly points to a great dearth of jobs in a city burdened with university graduates.
Dogs still roam freely about, claiming their share of the day’s garbage bags lying at the curb. One Sunday morning the water cut off for an hour or so. I heard no complaint. One afternoon the central district lost its power for a short time. I heard no complaint. A moment ago I was standing at a busy corner, the kind where pedestrians must risk their lives to cross a one-way street. The people are really good at this, but they have no other option because the cars don’t yield to pedestrians, contrary to city ordinances. I voiced my feelings to a man who was standing and waiting, like me. His comment was that “we are backward” and “it will take a long time to change this.”
Yesterday another gang member, age 25 or so, was waxed to balance the account of some aggrieved rival. On another day three men entered the office of a money-change business in broad daylight, strong-armed the owner, and walked off with a cash prize of $25 thousand dollars. This occurred downtown in the seventh block of Bolivar, well within my walking range. These scenes only contrast with a U.S. crime report in that these take place and seem never to get solved.
Whom to blame? The city is short by a thousand police, and with it public crimes of violence are on the rise. The police do not present the image of authority. They have all the paraphernalia, but they have a hard time gaining the respect of the community. I was told by a taxi driver that the police had respect under President Fujimori. He was sentenced to life in prison in 2009 for crimes against humanity. His daughter Keiko is a senator and is a contender for president. A huge banner with her and her father hangs somewhere downtown.
My own experience with law enforcement began and ended last year with what I call the “nightclub review.” My sleeping quarters then had a windowed wall that faced the street. On the other side of that street was an upstairs nightclub by the name of “Cuba Ney.” On weekends their windows opened, and the volume of music could have broken the trance of a Tibetan monk.
One night the sounds got to me. The owner of the house, Teresa, and Vani, her maid, and I trouped over to stand up for our rights. The music abated when the police arrived. They informed us that the owner had no license to operate the club. Teresa informed us all that the club was operating illegally because this was a residential zone, and she had the document to prove it.
Over a three-month period I felt compelled to call the police every Saturday morning at about 2 a.m. They finally told me to go see the mayor. With a group of residents I did just that. Meantime, the owner was finally twisting in the wind, and he sent word that he wanted to see me. That didn’t happen, but shortly thereafter the club began installing sound-proofing at a high cost, and it had to bar the door several times to do that.
It is important to note how long it took for the owner to conform to the petition of the neighborhood, which I represented for this ad hoc affair. Many people told me that the police were getting paid off by the owner to allow the illegal operation to profit, in clear violation of the zoning laws. As I write, the club still operates; its business has gone down because its doors are often closed; and people still claim that they can’t do anything because the police get paid to allow the club to function, against the will of the neighbors. No matter where the truth lies, the people still have this distrust of the police.
With this as an example, it seems that tolerance may be the direct result of the class system that took root at an earlier time, when the colonial society was established by the Spanish, an era marked by the dominance of the elites. That system has faded, but it is seen in the lifestyles and subtle cultural habits that pervade society today. The media refer to certain persons as “humble, a veiled recognition that 49% of the people live in a state of stoical poverty. This contrasts so sharply with what I am able to do and enjoy that it checkmates my daily needs and habits.
One characteristic of Trujillo, and maybe every city in the world, is the penchant for blue jeans. Men and women, boys and girls and grandparents more often than not are sporting a variety of jeans. Whether worn tight or baggy, faded or stone-washed, designer jeans or no-name, they are de rigeur here.
It is May 6th, and I must draw this report to an end. Still, the latest is that some 320 schools in this region lack seismic supports, putting them all at great risk. Upon inquiring into this, I was informed that the city is not in a seismic zone. That said, I must add that Trujillo did sustain a devastating earthquake in 1970, some few vestiges of which are still in evidence. Last year the city fathers isued a deadline to repair the condemned structures still standing downtown. Some of these are still under repair.
Evidence of that earthquake can also be noted in the unadorned walls of the churches that have withstood the centuries. Horizontal bands of plant-based colors offer a fragmented glimpse of what artisanry once adorned them with flowers like tulips and morning glories, and even stones.
Fragmented along some walls, bands of flowers, reminiscent of tulips and sunflowers, stand as mute testimony to an era when plant dyes furnished the raw material for early Christians to express their faith.
A girl handles the cybercafe where I spend time everyday. She administers 12 computer booths and 10 phone booths. I asked her about her job. She told me she works six days a week, from 8:30 in the morning until 9:30 at night. I asked if she got overtime for extra hours, and she shook her head. I observed that those hours preempted her pursuing further studies or anything else, and at that point she aske for my advice about a raise. I told her how I would go about it, assuring her that it was a worthy request. I’d like to be able to report on this issue in the future, but her employment hours simply highlight the dearth of jobs and absence of options in the developing world. They also show the controls that an employer wields. He effectively denies a diversified life to the employee and his chance to pursue his intellectual interests and develop his personality.
Peru’s leaders are positive in their thinking. Nidia Vilchey, the minister for women, commented today (May 10th) that the poverty rate has dropped to 33% over the past four years and that the federal budget has increase 54% for social programs. The high oint of her talk waa the the poverty level should drom to 0% by 2011. In fact, the country’s economy increased 8% in 2009. Still, statistics cannot measure the constant increase in mouths to feed, in jobs, in price increases, and a host of other variables that are best represented by a juggler controlling a dozen grenades. that might be likened to a juggler tossing a dozen grenades. The infrastructure of the country should be attacked vigorously by the Congress. Much is being done, but much more needs to be done. Roads create jobs, lead to agricutural developemtn and, together with technical aid and storage centers, water and eclecicity can reverse the endemic poverty of so many Andean provinces. Once the heartland of a stratified and productive empire, yet today Peru is still racing to move in the loop of modernity, with competitive demands, its medical and educational benefits, its basic services.