Lima, Peru – In what political analysts are calling a ‘democratic soufflé that has collapsed into a diarrhoea of bullets and bad faith,’ the Peruvian presidential election has gone sideways, drunk on cheap pisco and constitutional crises. The UK Foreign Office, in a statement that reads like a threat composition by a drunk parliamentarian, has warned British nationals to ‘reconsider all travel’ to the country of Machu Picchu and macho madness. This reporter, Barnaby ‘Biff’ Thistlethwaite, liquid lunch in hand, is here to explain the situation through a gin-soaked lens of surrealist despair.
What has happened? Imagine if a political system was designed by a toddler with a crayon and a chimpanzee with a machine gun. That is Peru. The election, which was always going to be a cage match between ineptitude and corruption, has now descended into a presidential race where the candidates are hurling not just slogans but actual bricks. There have been accusations of vote tampering, threats of military coups, and a disturbing number of llamas being painted in party colours.
The leading candidate, a former footballer turned property magnate who once promised to ‘drain the swamp’ while building a golf course on a wetland, is now refusing to leave his penthouse, claiming that ‘enemies of the people’ are after him. Meanwhile, the other candidate, a socialist with a penchant for suspending congress and quoting 17th-century philosophers from memory, has started a hunger strike in protest of the fact that the election was not held in a volcano. The result: chaos. Trained chaos, the kind that smells of tear gas and broken dreams.
The UK Foreign Office, in a show of paternalistic concern, has offered British tourists a list of things to avoid. It includes: ‘do not attend political rallies, do not wear any shirt that could be interpreted as a political statement, and do not make eye contact with anyone holding a machete.’ In other words, do not do anything that a normal human might do in a country where politics is a blood sport.
As I sit here in my hotel room, which smells of bleach and despair, I can hear the distant crack of fireworks or gunfire it is impossible to tell anymore. The news channels are repeating the same warnings, their newscasters looking like they are about to spontaneously combust. This is a country where politics has become performance art for the deranged. And the British government, which has perfected the art of diplomatic aimlessness, can only say: stay away, don’t get involved, and for God’s sake, don’t spend any money on llama-themed souvenirs.
In conclusion: if you were planning a trip to Peru, thinking of the Andean sun and the magic of the Nazca lines, think again. This is a place where democracy is a rumour and elections are a grudge match. The Foreign Office has spoken. I would listen. But first, let me pour myself another drink. Cheers.
