Albazo

I don’t know who’s crazy idea this was, but every morning at 6am one of the neighborhoods celebrates with something called an Albazo. Every morning for over two weeks, I was woken up to the beautiful sound of a marching band at 6am. One day I had the honor of being invited to participate.

A friend of mine asked me to go with him, so the alarm goes off, I sneak out of the house and I’m off to party by 6:15. The party is in the streets with about 20-30 people a marching band, and you guessed it… beer. The band plays horrible overheard Peruvian favorites while they march through the streets. About every 150 feet they stop in the street, drink some beer and march in place while they play more.

Hmmm, just a normal Saturday morning eh? I do that all the time back in the states, don’t you? I mean who can resist warm beer as the sun rises and shines right in your eyes? Oh and then dancing, with more people you don’t know, to music that hurts your ears. Don’t forget the firecrackers that they set off. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM!

Well, anyone can do anything for a little while right? Try doing that for 4.5 hours. It all finished up with a breakfast of champions. An awful soup made with a flavorless broth, bad pasta, and absolutely disgusting chunks of pork still on the bone and chunks of pig fat. I tried to be polite by eating the pasta and broth. The problem is, you don’t eat the food they get offended. You eat the food and they serve you more. Before they could serve me seconds, I took off running. Went back home and got in bed. That’s the last 6am party I go to for a while.