Protests & riot police in Cusco - we're safe, right?

Day 4 - Cusco

So far, nothing really crazy had happened on our trip. Until day 4. We had prepaid half the cost of our 4 day trek (culminating with a visit to Machu Picchu) and needed to get across town to pay the remaining half. The protesters had a different plan.

These were planned protests mind you. Except for many of the establishments serving primarily tourists, the rest of the country had shut down completely and took to the streets protesting the government. We wandered around looking for a taxi, bewildered.

We would pass alongside a group one hundred strong, marching down the middle of the street, carrying banners, beating drums, and chanting protests in unison. Relieved, we would turn the corner onto the next street, only to find another group.

In between, a group of national police would scurry by, riot shields in hand, attempting to blockade one street or another. On more than one occasion, a mini-tank rolled by, dropping off a new batch.

I didn't know whether to be worried or not. On the one hand, we were just tourists and no one seemed to be paying attention. We could freely move in and out of the crowds, even walk past barricading officers. The protesters were peaceful, and didn't seem to be looking for a confrontation.

On the other hand...why were all the banks heavily guarded? Why were the police so anxious to seal off the area around the primary government building? And, wouldn't a "wealthy" tourist be the perfect target of violence for a repressed working class?

We wandered in the general direction of our tour company, but gave up after 1 mile. Not a single car could get through the morass. Even if they could, I wasn't convinced the office would even be open. Weaving back down different streets, the chaos was the same everywhere.

Still peaceful of course, but I must have subconsciously been counting the number of police I'd seen. Peru is safe, right? Stable too? It would only take one nervous or provoked policeman to ignite this situation...

As fascinating and viscerally satisfying as it all was, I became increasingly uncomfortable. It was time to return to the tourist safety of our hostel.

Behind that big wooden door, it didn't take long to forget the entire situation. Easy to imagine it was a normal day outside. Safe in the castle.

Later in the day, while sending emails at the internet cafe next door, the proprietor jumped up and ran over to the front doors, quickly shutting and latching them. Suddenly it was quiet. The natural light sucked from the room. In the 24 hours we had been in town, I had never seen them closed.

A few tense minutes passed.

The doors were reopened. It was sunny out. People walked back and forth as if nothing was out of the ordinary.