The champion of moxie

“Something special is coming up; you’ll definitely want to have your camera out,” said the waiter on the train. We had just spent the day at Machu Picchu and were on our way to Cuzco. The scenery between Aguas Calientes, the base for Machu Picchu, and Ollantaytambo was already stunning; what other exciting thing were we about to pass? We obligingly got out our camera and continued staring out the window. 

I had already been impressed by our train experience that day, based purely on the food and its presentation. We had been served an elegant meal/snack with different cheeses, roasted tomatoes, and even quinoa cake, a far cry from the tiny paper bag of chifles (plantain chips) and chocolate (both tasty, of course) we had been served on the train the previous day.

Note that there is even a vase of flowers on the wooden tray!

We heard a commotion at the back of our train car and craned our necks to see what was happening. Music started playing. A colorful, masked character danced up and down the aisles. He bowed slightly to me as he passed. Sam and I laughed and clapped along. Simon stared at the character, unsure whether to laugh or cry. 

Then the character pulled a woman from the end of the car up and started dancing with her. Immediately I began to dread that he would pick me as he danced his way down the car. I was on the aisle, after all, the character had nodded to me as he passed by, and the waiter had specifically told us to get out our camera… “You’re making things up,” Sam said. “Don’t worry!”

Still, as the character danced his way down the aisle, the carload of people clapping and hooting along, I tried to make myself as small and invisible as possible. I pretended to busy myself with Simon and be too distracted to be noticed. Flashbacks to 10th grade Latin abounded, hiding in my chair so Mr. Ihlendorf would stop calling on me to translate.

All my efforts were futile. He stopped at my seat and extended his hand, trying to pull me up to dance. I shook my head frantically and pointed to my mother-in-law, Judy, across the aisle from me. “Please!” I begged her silently, cramming perhaps four thousand Pleases into a millisecond. Judy, the most good-natured and adventurous 74-year-old I know, shrugged her shoulders and said, “Sure, why not?” 

The champion of moxie, her friend Sara called her. So appropriate! Judy danced with the character, I stopped having a heart attack, we took lots of photos, and life went on. The character danced on to the other end of the train car, pulled a final woman out of her seat, and attention passed to them. Judy plopped back in her chair, laughing. I said, “THANK YOU! I owe you, big time!” “You’re welcome,” she smiled. “That was fun!”

“This is the strangest train ride we've ever had,” Sam said. “What else could possibly happen?”

Well, why not a fashion show?

The two waiters serving our car appeared, dressed in lovely alpaca shawls, scarves, sweaters, and coats. They strutted their stuff to music while the masked character danced and clapped along. 

After the 20-minute fashion show, they wheeled a cart full of the alpaca items though the car in case anyone had been inspired to the point of purchase. 

The rest of the ride seemed boring in comparison, but I was relieved to return to the scenery. While there was certainly a time where dancing in the aisles was a fun way to spend long bus rides to and from swim meets with teammates (hi, Macalester friends!), that was an adventure with friends. This just felt awkward and far out of my comfort zone. 

But I continue to be impressed with Judy’s approach to whatever situation comes her way: blithely embracing the adventure, usually laughing and shrugging her shoulders at the same time. The champion of moxie, indeed.