This mansion was once owned by Arequipa’s founder Garcí Manuel de Carbajal, hence the name. It has been restored with original furnishings and paintings, and even has its own chapel. The mansion is in the village of Huasacache, 9km from Arequipa’s city center. It is accessible by taxi, but I visited as part of a bus tour of the outskirts of Arequipa.
Built on the border of the Socabaya river, this residence has belonged to several proprietors through history. Originally the property of the founder of Arequipa, it belonged in the 16th century to the congregation of the Jesuits who built many enclosures, terraces and chapels. In 1785 it was acquired by Don Juan Crisóstomo de Goyoneche y Aguerreverre, who converted it into the residence it is today. The building has a main entrance with a dramatic vestibule with vaulted ceiling. There is also a Mirador (a look out place) with panoramic views in the back (obscured somewhat by trees) and beautiful, intimate chapel.
Last weekend, I went on a second, different bus tour of the Arequipa area. This one cut a wider path to the outskirts of the town. One of the last stops was a museum to Peru’s most famous fighter–a bull named Menelik. Yes, that’s right. It wasn’t much of a museum and I learned almost nothing about this famous fighter. There was little information in Spanish and none in English. But it was clear from the response of the visitors that they were pretty excited about this guy. Maybe if you’re from Peru, he needs no introduction?
First, you have to understand that bull fighting in Peru is different than the rest of the world. It’s the bulls that fight each other. There’s no toreador in tight pants, pink socks and a funny hat, a waving a sword at a weakened bull. In fact, no bulls dies. One concedes defeat and the fight is over. Seems much more civilized, to me, having watched 5 bulls die in rapid succession at a fight in Madrid. The 2 hour spectacle has 6 bulls, but I couldn’t stomach the last one.
The museum had the remains of Menelik, but little explanation in any language.
I found this article that explained much more than the museum did. The words in parathesis are mine. “The legend of Menelik is instructive. Perhaps the best-known bull of “all time” was the legendary Menelik, who launched the current resurgence of campina bull-fighting by winning the championship in 1946. Menelik, born in the traditional campina (country, countryside) district of Socabaya, was the offspring of a plow ox and a prize cow. … At age one Menelik was taken to the new irrigation 12 project of Sta. Rita de Siguas, where he was raised “con toros serranos de inverna, donde seria su escuela. [Al dueno] le agradaba ver que pelee guaguito con los toros serranos.” (“With Sierra Serrano bulls, where his school would be. [The owner] was pleased to see that he fought with the Serranos bulls.”)
Menelik gained strength fighting the sierran bulls. …A fair took place in October, 1940, during which a silver cup, donated by Leche Gloria (a popular brand of milk), was awarded for the Best Creole Milk Cow by none other than Manuel Prado, then President of Peru. During the fair a bullfight was held, with Menelik – certain to lose to the then champion Smeling – to be raffled off afterward to the winning ticket. The holder of the winning ticket was a boy whose father had purchased the winning ticket; a ticket of S/. 5.00 had won the boy a bull worth S/. 2,000.00! The boy and his friends tied their belts together to lead the legendary bull back home to Paucarpata.”
I took a free walking tour of Arequipa beginning in the San Lazaro neighborhood. I learned a few things, took too many photos and also got some serious exercise.
I recently found this great description of the city: “Surprisingly, despite a population of nearly 900,000, the city feels less like a metropolis and more like a compact town, one that’s graced by magnificent Spanish Colonial and Moorish architecture, fancied up with baroque, rococo and neoclassical embellishments. Located at roughly 7,500 feet above sea level in a lush valley between the Andes and coastal desert of southwestern Peru, Arequipa was founded in 1540 by those land-grabbing Spanish conquistadors. The city sits at the base of El Misti, a 19,000-foot volcano that’s bookended by slightly higher and lower volcanoes. But it’s the cone-shaped, seasonally snowcapped El Misti that symbolizes the spirit of the town, which was nicknamed the White City for its many buildings constructed from a pearly-hued volcanic stone called sillar.”
The guide then took us up the hill to the Parque Selva Alegre (the Happy Forest Park). According to Wikipedia: “Parque Ecològico Alto Selva Alegre. Located in the eastern part of the city, in Selva Alegre District, next to the Chili River. The park and its surrounding areas occupy an area of 1008 hectares of which 460 hectares covering only the ecological park. A part of the park is located in the buffer zone of the National Reserve of Salinas Aguada Blanca.”
There were also a few animals, mostly monkeys, in small, sad cages. I felt sorry for them. The guide assured us they had been rescued and would be returned to their native habitat. I hope so.
Next we got to see the animals!
We then went down two floors to meet the owner of the restaurant on the building. The restaurant, Sonoccolloy, claims to be the only establishment of its kind, serving Inka cuisine–including alpaca, duck and cuy (guinea pig).
And now it was time to walk home, almost 2 miles more!
I’ve officially tried the top two dishes in Peru: ceviche (fish “cooked” in lemon or lime juice. Also spelled cebiche here since the v and b sounds are the same and, hence, interchangeable) and lomo saltado (stir fried beef with french fries). I like them both and I can buy them at the grocery’s prepared foods section. Other delicacies I can buy there include Rocoto Relleno (Stuffed Spicy Peppers), Pollo a la Brasa (Roasted Chicken) and Causa (a type of Potato Casserole). Remember this is the land of potatoes, so they are served with everything (much as when I was growing up!).
I don’t really eat out that often. I buy prepared foods at the grocery and rely on fresh fruits and vegetables, nuts, tuna and crackers in my room. I’ve got access to an extremely ill-equipped kitchen (for example, we have 2 forks, 2 plates, one glass and about 2 dozen coffee mugs), so I mostly use the fridge for yogurt, take out food, cheese and hard boiled eggs (which I boil in my electric kettle). I only got out to eat about once a week or less. Remember, I’m a poor teacher trying to live within my means! But even a trip to the grocery or a walk down the street in Arequipa can be a cultural experience. These are just a few food related photos I’ve not posted.
This morning I went horseback riding. As a tour goes, I was not the best organized. Somehow I ended up paying for my own taxi home, after walking more than a mile to a place were we could even get a taxi. By that point, I was just ready to go.
But it was an “interesting” excursion, though not for the usual reasons. I was the only rider and Anibal was my guide. His family owns the farm and horses, though he is now living in Germany and only here on vacation. He was a funny guy, but a bit… “charming” ….for my tastes. When I asked the name of his horse, he said, “Nacho. Yo soy macho. El es Nacho.” (Nacho. I am macho. He is Nacho.) He also used the word “stallion” to describe himself, adding some very unambiguous body language, leaving nothing to the imagination. I did get a lot of Spanish practice today. Particularly, I got a lot of practice telling him NO. Fortunately the word is the same in English and Spanish and is recognized in most of the world as a negative response. Not so with Anibal! “Puedes venir a mi casa? Quieres venir a mi cama?” (Can you come to my house? Do you want to come to my bed?) While this is the best offer (of that sort) I’ve had in quite some time, I declined. Repeatedly. He’s a decade younger than I am, so my ego was slightly stroked. Though at the time I was far more wary that he wanted to stroke me!
I did get a free salsa lesson, Though if he stood any closer to me, he’d be behind me. At my age, you’d think I’d not see this behavior anymore. I, sadly, look a bit matronly. Certainly, not sexy. It was somehow frightening, insulting and nice. Odd.
In the end, my driver never came. Anibal offered to take me into the house. I was fairly sure I didn’t want to do that. He walked me to the edge of town and offered to take me to lunch. No, really, I was done being asked to come to his bed. It was hilarious the first time, but really annoying by the 12th. So he helped me get a cab (which I paid for, though transportation was supposed to be part of my tour).