Coyote vs Odysseus

Last night, I did something I rarely do: I went to see a movie in the cinema on its opening weekend.

This picture has nothing to do with this post. I just wonder what happened to the "I".

In truth, seeing a movie in the actual cinema is reasonably rare for us, and it very much depends on where we are. If I am going to see a movie, I want to see it in English with the voices of the original actors. That means it has to be subtitled in the native tongue rather than dubbed. In some parts of the world you don't have as many English language movies, and if you do, they are almost all dubbed.

Here in Peru, it is possible to see subtitled movies. So this is a good place to go see them. In fact, we have seen two movies in two different theaters during our time in Lima.

The first of these we did not see during its opening weekend. We saw The Odyssey. I'm not here to write reviews, I will just say this. It was okay. It wasn't great, though I appreciated a lot of the visual storytelling. The more or less horrible dialogue offset the visuals, leaving a mediocre movie, in my opinion. But I want to talk about an oddity of the theater.

For The Odyssey, we went to the nearest movie theater to where we living. I noticed at one point, in one of the very warlike, exciting scenes, the sound of distant booms, and the whole screen wiggled like it was shot during an earthquake. At first I thought this was a visual effect that Nolan was using. But then it happened again in a very calm and peaceful scene. That didn't make sense. Why the soft distant boom? Why would the screen shake during this scene?

That's when I realized the subtitles (in Spanish) were also shaking. And those would have been added post-production. So this wasn't an effect Nolan wanted. This was a problem of the theater. I concluded that when one of the neighboring films had loud booming action scenes, the sound system must shake the projector up in the projector room. This wiggling wasn't a visual chosen by the director. It was a design flaw in the theater.

The film we saw last night was Coyote vs Acme and we did go during its opening weekend. That is just not normal for me. But there were two major reasons I wanted specifically to see it during opening weekend.

You might guess that one of them was to desperately avoid spoilers. Good guess, but no. Living as we do, the chance of spoilers is very small (unless I specifically go online looking for spoilers.)

The first reason is that we are about to move from Lima, Peru to Florianopolis, Brazil. There are far fewer cinemas in Florianopolis, so it would be that much harder to see a movie and be sure I could find it subtitled rather than dubbed. In other words: timing.

The second reason was specific to this movie, to Coyote vs Acme. There is a controversy surrounding it. As you've probably heard, the movie was filmed, editing, and finished years ago. Then Warner Brothers decided that rather than release it, they were going to stick it in a vault and take a $30 million tax writer-off. (The movie had cost $70 million to make.) This was incredibly unfair to all the artists involved in the making of the movie. (This wasn't even the first time Warner Brothers did this. They had already shelved a completed movie, Batgirl.)

It was thanks to a huge campaign by fans and the artists involved that Warner Brothers said they were willing to sell the movie to another distributor. Some offers were rejected. But finally an independent distributor called Ketchup Entertainment bought the movie from Warner Brothers for $50 million. It is thanks to this that the movie is finally getting released, about three years late.

This plays at two levels, because Coyote vs Acme is about the "little guy" (Coyote) up against the big heartless corporation (Acme). And that's what we had going on off camera. The little guys were the artists, the big heartless corporation was Time-Warner.

I'm hoping that the opening weekend numbers are great. I hope they show the Time-Warner executives that they were idiots and send the message that unilaterally deciding to quash a piece of art for a tax write-off, while legal, is still a terrible thing to do. I can't make those opening weekend numbers be great. But I can contribute to them in one way, by paying to see the movie during its opening weekend. So I did. (I paid for two tickets. Alrica saw it too. Double the middle fingers to "the man"!)

We had to go to a different theater this time. The one nearest us was only showing the dubbed version of the movie. This theater had no issues with shaking projectors.

I don't want to give any spoilers, but I do want to share an interesting note about the subtitles. At one point in the movie, a character is communicating in Morse code. Another person is translating it letter by letter. The subtitles were also translating it letter by letter, except it wasn't the same letters. Let me explain what I mean: The first letter was "A". So the character on screen said "A". But the subtitles wrote "V". The next letter was "R" and the character said "R". But the subtitles wrote "A". What's going on? The subtitles were giving letter by letter what the ultimate phrase was going to be in Spanish. In English, the first word of the phrase was "Are", but in Spanish the first word of the phrase was "Vas". So when you make subtitles, you have to make a choice. Do you translate exactly what is being said, or do you translate it into the ultimate phrase that it is going to be. Obviously, in this case, they chose the latter, which I agree makes more sense.

I guess the final question you might wonder is this: Did we enjoy the movie? Yes we did. Quite a bit more so than the The Odyssey, but that wasn't a real high bar to clear. We didn't even need any Acme rocket skates or pogo shoes.

The Mystery of the Candelabra

On a two day trip, Alrica and I uncovered a mystery. Well, that may be overstating it. The mystery's been around for awhile. It was just new to us.

I speak of El Candelabro de Paracas (The Candelabra of Paracas.) You can see it below. But I am getting a bit ahead of myself, because we had adventures on our way to Paracas before we learned about the Candelabra.

El Candelabro de Paracas. The mystery is not what it represents (though I'm not sure that is certain either.)

We set out early in the morning, heading south out of Lima. Our first stop was longer than intended. We hit a place called Mirasur, really a nice roadside attraction where you could get filled bread and juice. We tried the breads, there were five varieties: Cheese, Ham and Cheese, Olive, Chocolate, and Manjar Blanco. Manjar blanco is a kind of caramel, similar to arequipa in Colombia, or dulce de leche in Mexico. I'm sure they all have their differences, though I'm not sure my palate noticed said differences.

Alrica feeding corn to horses

In addition to the breads, this stop had animals you could see and even feed: horses, a burro, alpacas, and goats. And there was a garden with a variety of plants and flowers, many with labels. It wasn't a bad stop, but it wasn't super exciting either. And we got to stay extra time. The company who ran the buses and tours, Peru Hop, had another bus break down. Not our bus, it was fine. And they needed that fine bus to get a group who was stranded. In return, we got to be stranded for awhile until another bus reached us. I'm not sure if that other bus also came from Lima or not. But it came.

The burro, which is a donkey

This wasn't a big deal. We probably spent an hour at a stop for which 20 minutes would have sufficed. But it was a pleasant temperature. Alrica and I only had backpacks, I'm sure it was a bit more annoying for the other guests who had real suitcases or roller bags. But everyone seemed to stay in a good mood about it.

The front arches of the Casa Hacienda San Jose

When our new bus rolled away, we headed to Casa Hacienda San José. Today, it is a hotel. But originally, it was the main house of a plantation. It was built in the 1750s, including a church which still holds Sunday services to this day. (We were there on a Tuesday, so no services, but we got to go inside. The church has a beautiful dark wood altar piece in the back.)

This altarpiece also dates from the middle of the 1700s

The hacienda is full of interesting antiques, has a large beautiful garden, and has a wide porch that goes around the entire house.

Antique typewriter meant for a WIDE piece of paper

Like many a plantation, Hacienda San José ran thanks to slave labor. Slavery was legal when Peru was a Spanish colony. When San Martin declared independence, he didn't abolish slavery entirely. He said that anyone born thereafter was free, even if born to a slave woman. But those who were already slaves remained slaves. It wasn't until the next president of Peru, Ramón Castilla, that slavery was abolished entirely, in 1854. (That's 11 years before it was abolished in the United States and it was one more year after that before Native American slavery was abolished in the US.)

One of the present day entrances to the tunnels

Sometime after slavery ended, one of the features of the plantation was lost. There were tunnels running under the house all the way down to the port, 17 kilometers away. But they had been forgotten. Then, in 2007, there was a powerful earthquake in the region that damaged many parts of the house. The tunnels were rediscovered in the aftermath of the earthquake.

Descent into the slave tunnels

These tunnels, which also date from the mid 18th century, were, as you might expect, a way to smuggle slaves from the port to the house. But not because slavery was illegal. It was perfectly legal. But it was also taxable. Plantation owners paid taxes on every slave they owned. The tunnels were a way for the owners of the hacienda to get slaves without paying the government the taxes due on them. I suppose if you aren't bothered about owning other humans, the moral outrage of stiffing the government isn't going to prick your conscience either. We got to walk a bit in the tunnels, though less than one kilometer, nowhere close to the full 17.

Though the big crop of the plantation was cotton, this machine is for grinding corn.

Casa Hacienda San José is in the Chincha region. This was and still is the center of the Afro-Peruvian culture of the country.

So many birds and so much guano

After the Hacienda, we went on to the town of Paracas. Paracas is not only the name of the town, but also of the region. The town of Paracas is the gateway to the Paracas National Reserve. And a people group that lived in this area over two millennia ago are called the Paracas. The word "paracas" itself comes from the quechua language and means "sand storm." Apparently sand storms are incredibly common in the region. Happily, we did not experience any.

A Humboldt penguin

Paracas, the town, is a little beach town. And August, here in the southern hemisphere, is the winter. So this is very obviously not the tourism season for them. All the blocks near the beach are built to house restaurants, bars, mini-markets, hostels, and hotels. But a large percentage of these weren't operating while we were there.

A family of Humboldt penguins

We enjoyed excellent seafood, slept in a nice hotel, but one which had a rooster as a near neighbor, and took a moonlight walk on the town's none-too-large beach. It was a nice town, and I imagine that in their summer it is bursting with people, music, and alcohol.

The sea lion must be bird watching with little red crabs beneath

The next morning we walked to the pier. Here we took a boat out to the Islas Ballestas. I'll get to those in just a moment, because this is when we finally reach our mystery. Along the way to the islands, we passed El Candelabro, which is carved into the ground. I'm not sure what is represents. Is it corn? Or a cactus? That's a little mystery. Here's the middle mystery: When was it made and by whom?

The family that lays around together...

Most people believe El Candelabro was carved into the ground by the Paracas people, possibly up to 2500 years ago. But no one is sure of that. Another suggestions is that this was carved by the Nazca people, part of the Nazca lines. That leads to some questions though. The Candelabra is several hundred kilometers north of all the other Nazca lines. Why would there be one up here, in a region far from all the others. Some people believe it was made by the armies of San Martin when he landed in Paracas to fight for Peru's independence in 1852. So here is the bigger mystery to my mind: How could we not know even which millennium saw these lines appear?

Apparently there is no written record of anyone having seen the Candelabra until after Peru's Independence. How could it have been there for 2000 years and either no one noticed it, or no one thought it was interesting enough to write about? That leads to another question: Could it really have lasted for over 2000 years? It would appear the answer is yes. Whoever carved this into the rock did so on the north side of the hill and the winds almost all come from the south. So this is super well protected. Plus this area almost never gets rain. Like once every few decades. So the water isn't eroding it. And the ground there is compacted with salt which apparently makes it very sturdy and hard.

I'm amazed that no scientist has a method of dating it. Also, I look at two possibilities: One) It was made well before the 1850s, but the why did no one ever make note of something so interesting? Or two) It wasn't made until the 1850s, but why would an army make it and not have any written records pertaining to them making it?

The red sands of Playa Roja

Continuing past the Candelabra, we reached the Islas Ballestas. Sometimes these are called the poor man's Galapagos. We saw lots of life here, including sea lions, crabs, Peruvian boobies, Peruvian pelicans, and Humboldt penguins. On the way to the islands we saw a whale breach, possibly a humpback whale, though we never got to see its tail to be sure. We also saw plenty of dolphins. It was amazing to see so many animals (and so much guano) contained in a small region.

Zoomed in view of the sand color

After the boat returned us to shore, we headed into the Paracas National Reserve. Here we saw Playa Roja which means Red Beach. Why is the sand red? The explanation given is that the area was underwater and volcanic. But that doesn't seem to me to fully explain it. Why was the beach red, but the land on which we were allowed to stand was yellow? Wasn't it also underwater and just as close to volcanoes? I never got a satisfactory answer.

We stopped for lunch near the city of Ica. Here I had a dish specific to the Ica region called carapulcra. It is a red potato stew. Mine was served with green spaghetti and a piece of chicken. The stew was good, the chicken and spaghetti were just okay.

After lunch we went to Huacachina. This is an itty bitty village, but it is built on an oasis. So there is a desert full of sand dunes, and there is this small oasis. All around the oasis are the restaurants, bars, and hotels. Plus there are businesses full of desert treks.

Colorful dune buggies

We headed out into the desert on dune buggies. (We weren't the drivers, merely passengers.) This was like living Super Mario Kart. Well, no banana peels or turtle shells, but up and down and sharp turns.

There's Alrica preparing for her downhill run

We also got to go sandboarding. It's basically sledding, but on the sand instead of on the snow. On a big dune, we got going very fast!

And we saw the sun set over the dunes.

Goodbye Sun

After that it was just the trip back to Lima. I slept, so clearly the trip tuckered me out.