In Peru, Lliclla is a Quechua word for a colorful square woven cloth that covers the back and shoulders. It is secured at the front, tied or using a safety pin. As I walked in the streets of Lima, I couldn't keep myself from being fascinated by the colors of those llicllas. The women could use it to carry cargo, to keep them warm and, the most beautiful thing, to carry their children. As a tourist trying to blend in, I wanted one.
I went to the closest shop I could see that had llicllas for sale. It was a tourist shop. I asked the vendor for a lliclla and she showed me, one by one, all the different colors she had. I tried one out, soon to figure how complicated it would be to carry my cargo in it. Imagine having to unfold and fold all that cloth every time I needed my wallet, or my mobile, while it's ringing! It just wouldn't do. She gave me an alternative, a lliclla made into a bag, with a zipper... much more practical. I bought two. Transferred all my stuff from the purse I was using to my new red lliclla bag and left the shop smiling.
Happy I walked down the streets of Lima with my new lliclla bag, still fascinated by the women with their original llicllas. One of them caught my attention. She had a baby on her back and she was laughing at me. I was intrigued by how a person, that I've never seen before, could be so amused by the sight of me. And then I realized she was laughing at me foolishness. Silly girl trying to blend in by spending 20 soles on a lliclla bag. But it wasn't her laugh what was disturbing me the most. It was the preciousness of her cargo, in an original lliclla, and the meaningless of mine, in a fake one. And I could just watch as she walked away.
