Election Fever

Those of you who don't necessarily follow Latin American politics (and frankly you should be ashamed of yourselves) may have missed the exciting presidential run off that took place this week in Peru. British readers may wish to skip the next few sentences as they contain information on an alternative type of voting which may be too complicated for you. To briefly summarise, in the event that no candidate gains a 50% majority Peru avoids the potential perils of a coalition government by compelling everyone to vote again having eliminated all but the top two candidates. I say compelling because it is in fact compulsory and furthermore in order to ensure that everyone votes reverently and soberly, they shut down all the bars from friday through to election sunday. Which is a bit of a pisser for us tourists, obviously.

Anyway, the run off was between two candidates from the opposite ends of the spectrum. On the right, a lady called Keiko Fujimori whose father, a previous president and sometime dictator, is in prison for 25 years for human rights abuses and possibly murdering his own citizens. The left wing opponent is a chap called Humala Ollanta, who the (controlled entirely by the right) media insist as portraying as a cross between Hugo Chavez and Voldemort. Oh, and he led a failed coup in 2006. All the polls showed a pretty much 50-50 split and the last few weeks have been pretty feisty on the campaigning front.

I mention any of this a) because it's educational and I thought it would be a departure from my usual fatuous drivel and b) because the general consensus was that if Ollanta got in he would immediately nationalise the entire country, throw out foreign businesses, sell Macchu Picchu to Chile (actually that was apparently a real life policy of Fujimori senior) and then to finish off, round up all the gringos and deport us. So we spent Saturday night hammering large crooked bits of wood over the windows in case of riots and then drank all the liquor in the house (in case looters broke in and stole it). And then guess what? Nothing happened. The socialist won, much to everyone's surprise, and immediately all my american housemates started worrying that their flights home would be cancelled. Those of us without imminent flights instead reasoned that the local currency would probably collapse and consequently when the bars re-opened we would end up with more rum cocktails to the pound. So while Peru was quietly reflecting on the momentous implications for the nation of this sway to the left, we just swayed around the garden with wine bottles. Politics and holidays, much like rum and sprite, just don't mix.