Tea in hand with a small box of treats just purchased at the bakery around the corner, I sit to write this entry. It’s been a few weeks since I arrived in Arequipa and I feel I’m getting to know the place like a new friend. I have a nice route to work with more pretty painted buildings and sunshine than the other streets. I spend my days reading and baking cookies or cakes for the cafe followed by lunch prepared by Santusa, the lady that has lived with my host since he was young, and a walk to the cafe round 6 to help prepare and package 
chocolate for the shop downstairs. I have walked in almost every direction from the house and seen quite a few neighborhoods. In each new direction I walk, I find a bakery and try their version of the ever present Alfajor, a famous South American sandwich cookie filled with dulce de leche and covered in powdered sugar. I find my favorites have been the ones with a more salty filling and light, crumbly cookie. I have given it too much thought.
Taking out the Laundry
On a slightly different note, be weary of the laundry places here in Peru. As satisfying as it is to pick up your freshly cleaned laundry from the lavanderia for such a cheap price, it is slightly less satisfying to put on very shrunken pants. I have since switched back to hand washing in the tub and drying in the sun. My one pair of pants is now a constant reminder to slow down on the cookies cause they are a struggle to wear around town.
A few days ago, my most recent day off, I decided to partake in one of the more touristy things on Arequipa’s list of sights. I went to the Santa Catalina Monastery to do whatever it is that goes on behind those tall walls that I pass every day on my way to the cafe. Built in 1579, this 20,000 square meter monastery is mostly open to the public save a northern corner that currently houses around 20 nuns. I arrived at about 11 in the morning and spent 3 hours wandering around the narrow passageways, taking my time exploring the rooms and gardens that used to be occupied by the daughters of wealthy Catholics.
At the Monastery
The entire property has been subjected to several large earthquakes over the centuries, making the second floor mostly non existent, allowing for the bright Arequipan sun to shine down through the crumbling architecture and bring a previously unknown amount of light to the dark quarters of the nuns. Because I went alone I was able to enjoy this place in a slow and pensive way without the bother of conversation or a tour guide. That being said, I’m planning to return with a friend before I leave. It was so beautiful that I want to see it again.
The parts that really stuck out to me, and I’m sure to everyone, were the plaster walls in bright blue or orange that existed every so often throughout the property. They brought a contrast to the grey and white stone walls that made the place feel so special, like a romantic secret garden. This feeling was heightened by the fact that there were actually gardens within the walls and potted flowers of shocking pink against the blue backdrop. I stumbled upon a small room off the main cobblestone walkway that was home to a collection of potted succulents enjoying the sunshine. I can’t, for the life of me, get a succulent to survive in New Mexico. I’ve tried. And here was an open space in this random monastery with dozens thriving. To be fair, they have the power of Catholicism in their roots. Perhaps I should have lit a candle in the chapel as an offering to my dead plants.
Sacred Succulent
There were a few main plaza areas within the monastery that had painted archways in a baroque style, centuries old saints painted in golden silk. Small shrines were erected in odd places and hidden cubbies in the walls held china that the nuns might have used for their tea parties.
After 2 hours I took a break in the cafe where the small courtyard had been converted into a haven with a few wooden tables in vine covered shade. I had an espresso, feeling distinctly touristy and ate an entire package of religious shaped butter cookies. Feeling more perky after the caffeine, I continued on the circuit through the monastery and came upon the main garden. Small benches and towering trees hung over the flower gardens and I was transported yet again to another time and place.
Painted Archways
Even though I had chosen an average day to visit the monastery and there seemed to be quite a few tourists on the property, there was something still so abandoned feeling about the place. It was a very welcome respite from the busy streets and noise that was just on the other side of the tall walls. There was just too much to see and take in that I ended up rushing through the last quarter or so of the property, reminding myself that I meant to return.
It was a lovely way to spend an afternoon and I highly recommend spending the 35 soles to travel back in time or to what felt like the Beast’s forbidden west wing.
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