Midnight Communion Over a Bottle of Water
Kids play fútbol with a plastic water bottle one night during the Patrona Festival in Lamas, Peru.
By Julian Staeva-Vieira
Lamas, Peru
Julian spent five weeks traveling in Peru during the summer of 2024. He started out solo, exploring Lima, Arequipa, Cusco, and the surrounding regions. For the final two weeks, he worked on an organic farm in the Amazon rainforest making coconut oil. A weekend trip from the farm to nearby Lamas provided a joyful, revelatory experience…
I moved to the sounds of live music spilling onto the fútbol pitch. Felt my body drift to the drums, pop to the horns, and flow to the strings. Transfixed by my world, I was simultaneously here and so very far away. I had no cares or concerns, no worries or fears. I was free. Free to be alive, to be myself, to be in body and in mind unwaveringly. While the local adolescents played fútbol with a half-empty water bottle in the dead of night, I was here. They were just kids playing. [Really we’re all just kids playing. It’s easy to forget that most of the time.] They came up to me, asked me my name, where I was from, how I liked their village, what my life was like. They impressed me and my friends with their English, and commented on our clothes. They were curious and unreserved. They didn’t hold back, unapologetically themselves. I found myself within them, within my time in Peru.
Vulnerability was my insight. In hindsight, vulnerability became the ultimate point of my journey to and through this remarkable country. Unwilling to resign myself to the soulless summer internship that plagues the rising sophomore, and unsatisfied by the idea of working another uninspiring seasonal gig, I scavenged my residual gap year savings and set off for adventure. Why Peru? Well, why not?! There are so many places in the world I want to see, so when a friend insisted I shuck coconuts with her at some remote farm in the Peruvian Amazon I responded with a shrug and a smirk. “Sure, I’m down.”
A huge crowd heads to Plaza de Armas, the central square in Lamas, Peru, to party at the Patrona Festival.
Miraculously, that’s how I found myself dancing on a miniature concrete pitch while the better half of the town’s youth put their heart and soul into a game of water bottle fútbol. The music boomed from a neighboring makeshift tent erected for Patrona, the town’s annual 3-week long religious festival. It was clear that tonight was by far the biggest celebration, and my coconut oil-making compadres and I were all for it. After unsuccessfully trying to squeeze my way onto the dance floor, which remarkably held hundreds in the space of a small yard, I relocated to the field, finding both better company and ventilation. The town’s energy was palpable—clearly stoked by the copious amounts of free alcohol (local uvachado and indanochado) dispensed at each corner. I, now very tipsy and spirited, could think of nothing better than to join the scrimmage.
Kids were hollering, sprinting, diving, and fouling their fellow teammates all for that blissful moment when the ball’s between your feet and all eyes are on you. The world is yours and everyone knows it. I can only imagine that this primal nature is what drives a broker to billions and a politician to president. That power that momentarily says you’ve made it. What a high it can be.
And when the bottle landed before my feet that familiar feeling came rushing back. I was stunned by the attention and reveled in it. But just as soon as I got it, my time in the spotlight was stolen and, like every kid who didn’t have that bottle, I was determined to get it back. It felt like I was back in the Big Apple. Submerged once again in the rat race, the high school drama, the college fantasy: a never-ending quest to be the best in a society that’s always churning out someone better.
But isn’t this exactly what I came here to escape? The ego’s conquest. Couldn't there be something else?
The author, joyfully swept up in the Patrona Festival crowd. (Photo by Izzy Kosar)
I took a moment to pause, step back, and reflect on this moment. Not an easy thing to do when salsa is blaring, crowds are screaming, and intoxication is compromising my stability. But I was grateful to have reunited with awareness. I raised my head, looked around, observed, and appreciated. I was so thankful to be here, truly present in this community’s presence. As I watched the kids play, I realized that this wasn’t a race but a dance. There was no contempt after a foul, or frustration over a turnover, but pure joy at the privilege of participating in something greater than yourself. These kids were not here to win or be the best, they were here to be a community: to love and to care for each other, to simply enjoy a shared experience. Age was irrelevant. Ability was irrelevant. Nationality irrelevant. All that mattered was that they showed up, allowing themselves to become something more.
It's so easy to get trapped in our minds. But what if we let go, regress to our youthful state, a state of vulnerability and presence? What if we open up, connect, and communicate, and not over an LED screen but here, really here? What if we learn to embody ourselves as we are, as these kids did, embracing our flaws and working with them?
Letting my mind drift to the music, my body followed … following me. I was finding myself in these Peruvian streets with grace and space. I was indeed opening myself to the world—experiencing the true depth of our interconnection.
One of Julian’s jobs on the farm was to harvest bananas and plantains in the jungle, which were then hung in the kitchen where the farm volunteers stayed—ready to eat or cook.
The coconut oil facility at Hacienda Mateo, where Julian worked. Shredded pieces of coconut flesh are being dried on the long oven. The dried coconut is then pressed to extract the oil.
Julian Staeva-Vieira, from Brooklyn, New York, is a sophomore at Tufts University where he is studying cognitive and brain science. In Peru, he spent two weeks volunteering at Hacienda Mateo through WWOOF (Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms). His tasks there included producing coconut oil, gardening, planting trees, and harvesting bananas and plantains in the jungle with a machete.
An avid traveler, Julian took a gap year after high school and spent ten months in New Zealand and three months traveling through Europe. Where to next? Likely Chile, India, Nepal, or Japan, Julian says.
* All photographs by Julian Staeva-Vieira unless otherwise indicated
Published September 10, 2024