I’ve made it inside this guy’s hut and the first thing that confronts me is his wife, completely out of it, lying on the floor with a mouthful of coca, bits of coca and sap collecting and dribbling round her mouth.
Ignoring his wife, dude ushers me in and plonks me on a stool next to his wife who has alerted herself to the presence of a visitor and has begun babbling, fussing and pointing round and about.
The house itself is an Adobe mud hut:
In one corner there is a pile of alpaca hides, firewood, bags and junk.
To anyone western, this would seem like a shed you might have a the bottom of your garden, with people living in it.
There are no lights and I keep the door open to let some light in.
20 minutes and no sign of his pipe.
The old woman has tried and failed to get up onto her stool, I help her up, she tells me thankyou.
It’s one of those situations where you want to leave, leaving before he’s had chance to play his pipe would be the wrong thing to do.
His daughter turns up, tries to sell me stuff which I’m not interested in then leaves.
Eventually dude produces what looks to be a length of PTF piping holes drilled in and a little nick at the top.
Within 5 seconds it’s obvious that this guy has no idea how to play the pipe and blows it as a child might.
Sensing his eagerness please, I suggest that he make me a Coca tea instead pointing to his wife’s dribbling maw.
Instead he grabs some potatoes gesticulating he wants to boil them up.
Eventually he goes off and comes back with this moldy tea back which his wife has boiled some water for.
They offer me this moldy tea bag tea and a large bag of sugar to help sweeten it up a bit.
First potatoes now moldy tea bag, I decide this is obviously taking the piss.
I was going to give him 1 sole, but for the pleasure of poisoning me with a rotten tea bag, I cannot pay.
I up and leave.
Here is a recording of the woman and her giving the village name Peullo.
Take a visit some time.