Understanding Trapiche
After we´ve walked back to the Hacienda together with a cousin of Louisa, who watched the rally with his six-year-old son, we expect the restaurant to be thriving and even busier than last Sunday – also since the waiter-crew is cut down by 50% due to sickness. However, not much is going on this sunny afternoon, and people watching the rally honestly seem to have found other places to fill their stomachs. “Why does Trapiche have all these restaurants anyway?” I´m counting 11 down the small street and wonder why the stone-truck-drivers should have such an appetite. The rally was a unique event, so what keeps the shopowners afloat? Louisa, Antonio, and waiter Walter have hired us as “hustlers”, meaning that we trying to get people from the street into the Hacienda. I have a feeling that we´ve gotten victims of racism and our skin color is supposed to catch attention of bypassing strangers. And also, when we watched trash-tv and commercials the other night, products where often introduced by “being developed in Europe” or “directly from the USA”, so our brighter skin color might indicate that our restaurant is good quality. I don´t want to step on anybody´s feet with my words, just mentioning my thoughts and feelings when pointing at the driveway of the hacienda and people didn´t look in the direction of my pointy but just starred at us and sometimes honked when passing.
It´s the first time that we are in the street for several minutes, so we finally have time to experience the aura. And then it happens: three busses come roaring across the bridge, jampacked with passengers. The first bus turns right by a driveway across the street, the second bus turns right by the driveway across the street as well, and when the third one does also, I can´t but to find out where the heck all these people are going. Like, why are the taking a bus into a town consisting of a river and bypassing trucks?
Changing perspective gives me the answer to all of these questions, and I suddenly see all of the advertisements around the town. “Laguna!” “Recreation!” “Nada en el verde!”, and after talking with the owner of the busy driveway and having seen minimum 20 busses parked by a small, artificial lake on his property, I fathom that calm and dusty Trapiche turns into a recreational paradise every Sunday – attracting families, church groups, and individuals tired of urban life in Lima! From the other side of the street, I see that our neighbour has a semi-olympic swimming pool and a stage for music performances! I see a crapton of families taking a break from their daily lives in the everlasting city noise. And I see why Louisa and Antonio are turning their own home into a Peruvian tavern once a week. The city is booming with people looking for food after a swim.
The fulfilling moment of understanding. Ahaaa.
Tilbage på gården finder vi endelig ud af, at Trapiche slet ikke er så støvet og kedeligt, som vi troede: Byen bliver til et ferieparadis hver søndag, hvor familier fra Lima længes efter lidt ”ægte” grøn natur og billig mad! Derfor hjælper vi ved driften af et spisehus – ahaa.
Als wir wieder auf der Hacienda zurück sind, fungieren wir mit unserem „anderem Aussehen“ als Werbung in der Straße und haben Zeit zu verstehen, dass Trapiche doch nicht so langweilig ist, wie gedacht: Jeden Sonntag sehnen sich Familien aus der Millionenstadt nach Natur und Pause, welche sie hier finden. Seen und Pools sind durch das Süßwasser des Flusses auf für uns zuvor versteckten Grundstücken angelegt worden und locken damit mehrere dutzend Reisebusse an!
