Chapter III
My First Meeting with RamaA Sunday morning in Huancayo wa s like being in the
vicinity of Pa sadena before the Rose Bowl parade. There
were people everywhere. They come from many miles
away, bringing their goods to the fair, much like the
American flea markets. The people, who lived in the
neighboring towns, were both manufacturers and buy
ers. They meet here at the culmination of a week's work.
There was an air of business and festivity mingling
together to create a cheerful mood in that city.
Seeing so many people on the street that early in the
morning aroused my curiosity. I decided to browse
around the fair for a while. I even bought a few things.
Some time after 10 o'clock, I headed for the moun
tains. It didn't take much more than an hour to get to
Acaya Pacte. I immediately headed for the medicinal
springs to bathe as I had noticed how great I felt
afterwards. Again, I spoke to someone at the pool who
related stories about hopelessly ill people who travelled
great distances to bathe in these volcanic springs and
who had been cured of such formidable diseases as ulcers
and cancer. I listened politely because the young man
spoke with faith and sincerity, but to me his stories of
miraculous healings were a little unbelievable.
As I nodded and yessed, I was thinking about the girl I
would meet here later. I began to feel nervous and
anxious; the longer I waited, the more I just wanted to
get it over with.
I began considering several bizarre possibilities. After
all, I knew nothing about this woman. What if she were a
mental case? Or with the CIA? Or connected to some
international smuggling operation involving drugs, the
Mafia, espionage. Even the Peace Corps was suspect as it
was sometimes used as a front for illegal activities. This
27