There we were, trying to be quiet as we explored the Cusco Cathedral. After all, who wants to make tons of noise and bother all of the other visitors? Well, we were about to find out the answer to that question, and many more. A little (and I mean little; he couldn’t have been taller than 4′10”) old man walked up to us, and asked if we wanted a tour. We told him that we didn’t speak Spanish, and he reassured us that he would do his best to explain in English. So, we figured, why not? If only we’d been able to go back in time and tell ourselves any of the many reasons why not, but alas…

The first issue was that the man was clearly deaf, and couldn’t hear any of the questions we asked, or even notice that we were asking questions, as he blithely went along. We couldn’t only understand about half of what he said, and I’m not sure that all of that half even made sense. Moreover, because he was deaf, he also had no idea that HE WAS SHOUTING EVERYTHING HE SAID, SO EVERYONE IN THE CHURCH COULD HERE HIM. And, just to make matters worse, he had a flair for the dramatic…. Well,this all added up to Joyce having to lag behind, because she couldn’t control her hysteria, and all of the other people in the Cathedral looking at us like we were nuts.

But, the coup de grace was: every time he came to any panel, he would begin to tell us about it, and then when it got to describing the gold work, tell us that (while scrunching up his whole body, for full volume), “they melted down the IIIIIIINCAAAAAA GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLD!!!!!!!!! They STOOOOOOLE it!” Again, and again and again. Inca gold seemed to be all that this man could think about.

As though the cathedral designers knew that one day this man would come along, they put a small echoey crypt in with very low ceilings, and only one little staircase leading out. Well, when “IIIINCAAAAAAAAAAAA GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLD!!!!!” got here, Joyce just couldn’t handle it anymore. She had to run upstairs, out of the crypt, and burst in laughter. Some other Americans asked what language our guide was speaking, which just added to her hysteria.

Since then, Joyce and I have enjoyed turning to each other at random moments and saying, “IIIIINCAAAAAA GOOOOOOOOOOOLD!!!!!!!” Our poor children…