Chinchero

So, I took the day off from recoding data and learning Quechua to check
out the Incan ruins and market in nearby village of Chinchero.
Beautiful little town--I've put some pictures up on my Picasa account,
and you can get to them by clicking on the link (a picture of an
indigenous woman) over in the sidebar.

Chinchero is another place where you're surrounded by history. Farmers
still work in the shadow of Incan terracing, and the (stunning) village
church is built on the site of an Incan religious site. People also
speak Quechua in the market to one another, and the locals wear
traditional costume, and probably not only for the tourists. In the
market, you can see indigenous families and friends eating together,
sharing their meals communally.

It's neat to hear people speaking Quechua in these places, even if I can
only understand a little.

I don't envy the lives these people hold--Peruvian peasants are tough,
and many of them live lives that many of us would find unimaginable.
But it's good to see that their strong social bonds have, in many
places, survived the changes of the modern age, at least so far.

In the course of my Quechua lessons, we've spent a lot of time talking
about the process of modernization, and the ways in which urban
in-migration, technological modernization, and resulting cultural
changes have left a lot of poor urban residents without either a
connection to their ethnic and cultural roots, or the ability to take
advantage of many of the things the urban world offers.

I wonder if there's something of a Samuel P. Huntington-esque story here
in which social bonds and informal, traditional institutions (like the
Quechua tradition of communal labor) are unable to deal with the large
numbers of people and more complex problems of the urban world. On the
other hand, urban areas of Peru and other parts of the developing world
have yet to develop the complex institutions of the developed
world--things like effective police forces and educational systems.
Maybe, despite his authoritarian apologetics, Huntington got it right.

On the other hand, a lot of the developed world lacks these things, as
well. One might argue that parts of New York, possibly the most
developed place on earth, lack effective law enforcement and educational
institutions.

The Moustache: The Universal Symbol for Pizza/Villainy/Irish Bartenders from the 1850s

One question: Why is the handlebar moustache the universal symbol for
Pizza when (1) Pizza is really hard to eat with a moustache, and (2)
I've never seen an Italian with a handlebar?

The campesinos, by the way, very rarely have any facial hair. I get
stared at a lot. And pointed at, sometimes. Especially by little kids.

And the little kids out in Anta tugged on it to make sure it was real.
I'm not sure they were convinced. And they pulled _hard_!

Me and the Evangelical Protestants

First off, one of the great advantages of being Episcopalian is that you
can pretty much be all things to all men (and women) down here. You're
not really Catholic, so you can always explain to the evangelicals that
you're protestant, etc., and then you're good. If you're talking to a
Catholic... well... Episcopalianism is, as some of my Episcopalian
friends have said, "Catholic Light." And if you're talking to a
nonbeliever, you just tell them the story about how the Anglican church
got started with sufficient irony ("Henry VIII really wanted to divorce
Catherine of Aragon, but the Pope said no, so he just started his own
church.") and you're golden.

And I'm not what you would call a rabidly dogmatic believer, so this is
really no big deal as far as I'm concerned, though I'm sure it would
make some people uncomfortable.

Anyways, the family I'm living with here in Cusco is evangelical
protestant, and they're pretty vocal about it. Normally, this would
make _me_ a little uncomfortable--We talk about religion in my family
(Actually, it's all my grandfather ever talked about. Somehow, even
arguments about gun control turned into arguments about Jesus), but I
guess I'm always just afraid somebody else is going to try to convert
me. And I'm pretty much okay with my Anglican belief system.

No fear of attempted conversion here, though. And all in all, I have to
say, I really agree with the fam's version of evangelical
protestantism. In effect, they think people should:
(a) be honest,
(b) be respectful of women,
(c) work hard,
(d) not judge others, and
(e) go to church on Sunday.

With the exception of the last one, which I'm not too big on, I pretty
much agree with all of that stuff.

Indeed, it's interesting that so many of the European and American
travelers down here have such a strong negative reaction to religious
faith of any kind. First off, the Catholic faith is such a part of the
local history and culture that it's difficult to imagine a day here
without some pretty salient Catholic feel to it, and second of all, one
of the things that these Protestants admire most about the States and
Europe are the same things that have turned them to their own religion.

Listening to these guys talk, it's become increasingly clear to me how
appealing this kind of philosophy can be in a place where:
(a) people lie and cheat all the time (prisoners' dilemma, really--cheat
or the other guy will and you'll be the sucker),
(b) machismo is more the rule than the exception, and sometimes the
worst version is openly on display,
(c) people show up to work late and often do a poor job--good luck
getting the internet turned back on once it's broken down, for example, and
(d) the Catholic church is, shall we say, less than energetic about
following its own dogma.

They see a lot of hypocrisy in the Catholic church (which is,
incidentally, one of the things that drives me nuts about dogmatic
people of any ideological or religious stripe back home), and they
believe in what could almost be termed a constructivist theory about
commonly held beliefs leading to improved behavior. They really think
that energetic religious belief--a very worldly belief system about the
right way to behave in this life, rather than the next--will help solve
Peru's problems with corruption and development. If everybody is trying
to lead a life of "right action" (to steal a phrase from the Buddhists)
and they're all keeping one another in line, things will get better.

As someone who's been socialized as a rational choicer, this stuff is
sometimes hard for me to swallow, but there's clearly a role for belief
in a rational choice explanation of human behavior, as I've written
about before.

There's also a social network story to be told, I think, about the way
evangelicals belong to a close-knit community that can sanction its
members for breaking certain social codes, so it's easier for
evangelicals to trust one another than it is for them to trust the
Catholic downstairs, or (frankly) than it is for others to trust
Evangelicals.

Of course, this won't stop me from making fun of the comically awful
evangelical musical tradition.

But even that, in a way, is a form of democracy. You don't have to be a
professionally trained musician to express your faith through music.
You can just be some schmoe with an electric guitar and a microphone.
And a screechy, out-of-tune voice. And lots of feedback. And a
terrible double-breasted suit.

More thanksgiving...

I am also thankful that my hat is wearing a belt:

http://www.homestarrunner.com/stinkoturkey.html

Maureen thinks I should be thankful for television online and Pizza
Hut. I'm not a big fan of either Pizza Hut or TV, but I have clearly
forgotten to be thankful for Taco Bell and "Bembo's" the Peruvian burger
chain (which is not related to the even-more-amusingly named "Bimbo's",
the Mexican bread company. And Inka Kola.

Yesterday, my Quechua instructor taught me how to give thanks to the
Apus (animist Quechua deities) and Pachamama (mother earth) with my
Chicha. Chicha is homebrewed corn beer. I said, "I'm not a big chicha
drinker. Do I do this with Inka Kola, too? He said, "the campesinos do
it with everything."

So I need to start making coffee offerings to the Fifth Flatiron and
Bear Peak.

A Couple Things I'm Thankful For

I realize it's a little late, but the Peruvian internet was broken over
Thanksgiving. And I had Quechua homework.

1. Emily
2. NetNewsWire
3. STATA
4. The SteriPen
5. Thunderbird
6. Cast iron frying pans
7. Skype
8. Emily

Certainly not a comprehensive list, but three things that do make my
life easier.

Thanksgiving

And by the way, happy Thanksgiving, all!

"Thanksgiving: We were fundamentalists before you were!"

The story has everything:
1. Religious fundamentalism
2. A military captain that was so short that he had to shorten his
sword by 6"
3. Funny hats
4. Anticommunism
5. Great chase scenes (though mostly on foot).
6. Religious persecution
7. Several possible roles for Bruce Campbell
8. The exiling of dissidents to Rhode Island

A fate worse than death, really.

As my good friend William J. Bourke would say, "I kid because I love."
Mostly, I love the cranberry sauce that arrives in the shape of a can,
and the pie. I'll take any kind, but I'm especially fond of the
mincemeat. I'll pass on the turkey and green bean casserole.

I also like Rhode Island. The state's only okay, but the accent is the
best. And there's a pretty good Boy Scout camp there.

Thanksgiving makes for something of a strange story, really. According
to historian Nathanial Philbrick, the whole time the Pilgrims were in
Massachussets, they really wished they were back in the Netherlands.
Can't say I agree with that. If there's one place I'm not inclined to
go (other than Checnya), it would be Kashmir. But after that, it's
Holland. And then Disneyland. Where they also celebrate "Dia de accion
de gracias." Gracias a diós.

A Good Afternoon

You know when you have those days when you just are really thankful that
everything's going the way it is?

After class today (during which we had almost no grammar instruction but
spent the whole morning talking about the social structure of the
quechua-speaking world), I headed down to the supermarket near the
house, to get some groceries and break a S./100 note. It was just a
beautiful afternoon. Blue sky, fluffy white clouds.

I walked through the Plaza Tupac Amaru--commemorating a failed
revolution in 1780--walked past indigenous women in their hats and
braids eating lunch on the grass, walked past the Kaiser jeep pickup at
the Policia Nacional building, walked past little kids with their
parents running around the glowering Tupac Amaru, walked past two middle
class women praying at a Catholic altar in the parking lot of a gas
station (Christ being whipped by a guy with a mean moustache,
incidentally--handlebar moustaches are, along with Stetson hats with
capes, the universal symbol of villainy)

I don't know. Nothing too special, but it just really struck me at that
moment how fortunate I am. I really like it here. Like Peru, like the
people, like the locally manufactured soft drinks.

I also saw, for the first time today, a shelf full of Coca beer. I have
no idea how that works, but it was there in living color.

I have nothing but respect for cocaleros' attempts to build a better,
legal life by marketing their product as a healthy alternative to...
well... pretty much everything. And I get a kick out of Hugo Chavez's
going on about Coca when he clearly has no idea what he's talking
about. (Wouldn't you like to say to unc'l Hugo's face, "Dude. You
don't chew coca paste. That's for cocaine")

But I have to say, most of the coca products I've have the pleasure to
trying have basically been like... like what you would expect a product
made out of ground up leaves to be like. Grainy, dry, and with
basically no taste. Like eating green dirt.

For those of you who haven't been down here, you can buy coca toffee,
coca flour, coca tea, and a lot of other coca crap.

Coca tea is fantastic. I drink it every day.

The rest of the stuff is crap. For a bag of 15 or 20 pieces of coca
toffee, I could support 30 candy-selling street children for a year, and
be much happier off. Knock-off Peruvian jolly ranchers are far superior
to their narcotic-containing brethren.

Jelly beans aren't as good here as in Guate., though.

And in case you don't know, there is no mind-altering aspect to these
coca products. Coca, when chewed by the indigenous folks, does have a
mild stimulative effect. To be honest, I'd like to try it. Sounds like
a strong cup of coffee, only without the jitters. Might help me get
through Avner Greif faster.

All the locals claim that coca tea is great for altitude sickness, but
they're full of it. Unless you typically take your tea with a teaspoon
of sugar and another teaspoon of ash.

Though I do wish they still made Coca Cola with real coca. Probably
better for you, too.

To get the narcotic effect, you have to consume (usually chew) coca with
a catalyst, which is usually the burnt ash of the Quinoa plant. You can
buy that stuff in the market, in theory, but I've never gone looking for
it. I should check it out some day. If only to know what it looks
like. Though I suspect Mike T. can tell me.

For the record, by the way, I'm also not a big fan of Quinoa. Except
for the puffed Quinoa cereal I eat every day. That stuff is awesome.
I'm bringing 150 lbs. back with me when I come home for Xmas.

Sometimes they're got the culinary thing down...

First of, I don't understand why you can't yogurt for drinking in the
states. The stuff is excellent. (Bill S. Preston, Esq.)

And popped Quinoa cereal. By god, if they've got anything due for
export to the United States, it's that stuff! Just like rice crispies,
but bigger puffs and more nutritious.

On an only tangentially related note, I wanted to mention that I saw a
whole truck (not a pickup, but a truck with a 15 or 20 foot bed and 6'
stake sides) entirely filled with cattle heads and hooves. It was
awesome. I've seen cow heads in the streets and in the markets before,
but never in such quantity! Just like seeing a truck full of green
bananas, except better, at least for the adolescent boys among us that
look like 31 year-olds.

There was also blood dripping out of the truck onto the ground in
pools. It ruled.

Then I came home and had this really good sausage and noodle dish.
Mmm. Salty.

Markets for Education

For fairly obvious reasons, I'm interested in education. Working as a
middle school teacher tends to do that to you. And I'm interested in
the ways that education in the United States can work better. In
general (partly, at least, because of my own personal experiences), my
preferences run towards market incentives and away from government
regulation. In general, I would have to say that (central) government
regulation in education (read: No Child Left Behind) doesn't work very
well.

There needs to be accountability in education. Unfortunately,
standardized testing promotes the wrong kind of accountability. And
frankly, it's kind of bizarre that the party of small government has
implemented an old-fashioned approach to regulating education of a kind
that I would expect from New Deal Democrats.

On the other hand, calling the administration of G.W. Bush a "small
government" administration is clearly stretching the truth beyond any
plausibly recognizable form. Mmm.

But that's a tangent.

According to UNESCO (I should cite this, but I'm being lazy), the
Peruvian educational system is almost singularly inefficient in terms of
the kinds of student achievement it gets out of its kids, relative to
the amount of money it puts into the system. Lots of money in, almost
nothing out.

Not surprising on the ground. Peruvian teachers don't show up to work,
and when they do they're faced with terrible working conditions.

But you might expect that the private education system would (1) be
better, and (2) force the public institutions to compete, leading public
schools to perform better.

At least this is what the radical proponents of privatized education expect.

I'm not opposed to the introduction of some market incentives into the
school systems. I'm a big fan of merit pay and charter schools. But I
also think that the Peruvian case demonstrates that market forces
themselves cannot lead to the kinds of outcomes we want.

Why not? I'm not sure, but I've got a couple of ideas.
1. Geographic barriers to educational markets. In some places (like
rural Peru and islands in Maine) there simply isn't a big enough market
for private education.
2. Poverty. In some places (like Peru and Mississippi) people can't
afford a high-quality private education. This may be "efficient" in the
economic sense, but we probably aren't generally in favor of this kind
of efficiency. In general, we would probably feel a lot better about
ourselves if we provided rural Peruvians with (for example) a
sixth-grade education, and if we provided rural Mississippians with (for
example) a high quality high school education and subsidized student
loans, so they have an opportunity to be upwardly-mobile.
3. Collusion. Here, I'm talking about unions that are politically
powerful enough to resist market forces (and democratic pressures, among
other things). This might be a story about clientelist history, or it
might not.

I would like to test these ideas, but I'm not sure how I would get
around the endogeneity issue. There is a strong argument to be made for
the opposite relationship and the opposite direction of causality.
Countries with crappy public education systems will have lots of private
education (because who wants to send their kids to the terrible public
schools).

Cool Internet Stuff!

So, my Quechua instructor lives in Calca, a (somewhat) rural town about
an hour from Cusco, a little bit out of town, where he can't get
internet (or mail, for that matter). So we've made some arrangements
together to do this cellular internet thing, which appears to be
working. Fabulous. The deal is that you get this nifty little USB
modem, plug it into your computer, and connect to the internet through
the cellular network.

The setup is a pain in the ass, because the software that comes with the
modem is terrible, but a little bit of internet searching (thank
goodness I also have wireless internet in the house at the moment) and
it works just fine.

Makes my day.

Now, to get some work done...