Hurry Up! (and wait . . .)
By Maryalice Yakutchik
Cusco — Despite that barking dogs kept him awake all night, Jeff's looking fresh and crisp this morning in his "filming uniform": pressed khacki shorts, a sky-blue button-down shirt, and hiking boots.
By 8 a.m., he's happily chowing down on his favorite meal of the day. From a breakfast bar heavy with cholesterol-clogging foods, he helps himself to a sensible bowl of mixed cereals with fruit, and washes that down with a miso-soup chaser.
He and the film crew have a rigorous filming agenda. First, they pick up the new cage for the bear; then anesthetize the bear in its zoo pen and move it into the cage; and finally, transport the caged animal to the train station. Knowing that things likely will take at least twice as long as he'd expect, Jeff's eager to start just so they can count on finishing filming by dusk.
But there's a glitch.
Evidently he doesn't have official permission to get the bear. Not quite yet.
If anyone can secure it, Juan Tirado can. Formerly of the Peruvian Diplomatic Service and a co-founder of the Bear Rescue Foundation, Juan is Jeff's point person here in Cusco. He tells us that it's a simple matter of meeting with the dean of the university. Evidently, the university owns the zoo which in turn owns the Spectacled bear. The dean needs to sign off on the animal before anyone can touch it.
The assumption is that a zoo so lacking in resources would be eager to unload "Peppi." He was chosen to be "rescued" because of his poor physical condition. Since Peppi's nose was broken in a fight with the three other males, he's been languishing in a solitary pen. His home eventually has to be moved somewhere else because a highway is planned to run right through that section of the zoo.
First stop: a 9 a.m. meeting with the dean.
A small bus takes Corwin, his crew, and Juan, to the appointed address in Cusco. Juan is told that he should return back in an hour because the dean is in a special meeting.
Next stop: a metal fabrication shop, the roof of which is scraps of tin and the floor, mud.
Here, the crew films Jeff inspecting the cage in which Peppi will be transported tomorrow from Cusco to Machu Picchu. Jeff, with about a dozen Peruvian men and boys, strain to carry the cage to a truck and ride with it to the zoo. The cameras are rolling.
Third stop: the zoo. Jeff kills an hour, wandering through the zoo while waiting for the dean's meeting to happen. He pets a parrot with a bad beak in need of a good trim. He marvels at the huge population of breeding condors.
"I judge a society by the way in which they treat their animals," he says. "That pretty much sums up how benevolent and civilized they are."
His intent is not to criticize but to show that Peru's glass if half-full.
"Maybe by coming here and highlighting one good project for an endangered species — the rescue of a Spectacled bear — it will lead to more," Jeff reasons.
At 11:37 a.m, Jeff learns the dean is on his way. Evidently the dean of the biology school and the bear's handler both are opposed to having the bear moved. But it's the overall dean of the university who ultimately will decide Peppi's fate.
"It's about snapping victory from the jaws of defeat," says Kim, whether you're faced with a wall of bureaucracy or individual opposition. This is just what we have to go through to help the bear. You have to go through negotiations and see where it all leads. We'll find out soon enough."
Soon enough — ha! Famous last words.
Now it's 12:10 and Corwin is seated in the outer office of the vice rectorado administrativo, awaiting an audience with the dean who evidently is meeting with Juan and several other deans about the bear issue: "I feel like I'm back in the 8th grade, waiting to talk to the principal about a spitball incident," Corwin quips on camera.
Juan appears. There is growing concern by the deans for Corwin's safety — and for the bear.
It sounds like it's politically motivated, Jeff observes. It is, Juan answers.
"What do they want us to do?" asks Jeff.
"They want us to wait an hour and a half," Juan replies.
Mauricio drops the camera from his shoulder: "Well, this sucks," he announces.
The crew heads to Peppi's cage to film two scenarios — just in case: a victory scene, in which they learn that authorization has been granted; and a failure scene, in which they learn that Peppi has not been freed to them. Peppi is laying on his back, his broken nose pressed against the padlocked door. Jeff offers his hand. As if on cue, Peppi extends a pink tongue and licks Jeff's fingers.
"Don't you worry, Peppi," Jeff promises.
At 1:09, Kim gives a pained smile and pragmatic pep talk to his crew: "They feel confident this is going to happen. But until it's in the cage and on the train ..."
At 1:49, it starts to drizzle. The big dark cloud overhead seems appropriate, in a symbolic way.
At 2:30, Jeff and Juan barge into the room where the deans had been meeting. The cameras are rolling. The crew holds its collective breath. Jeff emerges in less than an instant.
Uh oh. Wrong room, wrong building, wrong address. At some point in the last hour and a half, the deans relocated without leaving a forwarding address. Juan punches numbers into his cell phone and finds the director at "another" office.
The crew packs up all its gear onto the bus and schleps across town to a cobbled side street in Cusco. Juan heads up the steps into a building with big blue doors protected by imposing carved lions.
"He's not here," he reports when he emerges. "The director's not here."
At this point, even reasonably secure, un-paranoid persons might begin to suspect that the elusive director is intentionally avoiding them: gleefully leading them on a wild goose chase instead of gratefully handing over a captive bear.
Juan heads back into the building and this time appears waving a document from the dean's desk: it's a draft of an agreement which stipulates that a release will happen only if a fulltime vet is hired for a year to care for the bear.
"In one hour's time, the dean will be back here to sign it properly," Juan says.
Time is running out. It's 3 p.m. If the bear isn't turned over today, it ain't ever gonna happen. The university goes on strike tomorrow for an indefinite period time. And tomorrow is the day that the Peruvian rail system has arranged for a special train to transport the bear and crew to Machu Picchu.
"It looks like we'll be doing this in the dark," Jeff says optimistically. He asks Juan how many minutes of this particular hour-long wait are still remaining.
"Fifty-seven," Juan says.
"The paper should be signed any minute, and then we go ahead," Kim says.
Maurizio poses a particularly unsettling question: "Has anyone arranged for us to get into the zoo at 6:30 p.m.? We may get the permit to take the bear, but they'll probably tell us that it's not the right permit to enter the zoo at night!"
No one seems particularly worried. Bored, yes. Stressed, no. Gary and Todd, soundman and production assistant, are stretched out on the steps, playing "Go Fish." Gary's losing.
It's 5:28 p.m. Juan reports that the final document is being typed and that he's waiting on the dean.
At 5:32, a real-honest-to-goodness in-the-flesh dean arrives on the scene. He heads to his upstairs office without acknowledging the crew.
It's 5:45, almost dark. "We may not have to sedate the bear," Gary observes. "He may be asleep for the night by the time we get there."
At 5:47, there's news that the printer has just broken.
"It's a one-page document," Kim sighs. "We could have written it in runes, by now."
At 5:50, there's a mad search for Jeff who has, at some point, slipped away to nap in the bus.
At 5:57, the crew converges in the dean's regal-looking office where he and Juan ceremoniously sign The Document. The cameras are rolling.
"I think I just noticed one of the I's wasn't dotted," Jeff says, exhibiting resilient good humor if not audacious silliness. "So we'll have to start all over."
At 6 p.m., someone's singing "We are the Champions . . . " as the crew makes its way to the bus.
But wait: tempted though you may be to stop reading prematurely, assuming that this story has a happy ending — don't.
At 6:45, the crew's back at the zoo, hopes and batteries charged. Now they're toting lights for filming through the night.
It's 7:05 and we're waiting on the keeper of the key to the padlocked zoo.
At 7:27, headlights appear. Word has it that he has arrived. But without the keys.
Jeff wants to break the lock (and replace it with a new one, of course). Maurizio wants to film another "meeting" between Jeff and the man with no keys.
"No Dude!" Jeff retorts in his only outburst of the day — a remarkably mild one, at that. But he quickly acquiesces.
It's 7:33 and the cameras are rolling as Jeff recaps the latest frustration: "We'll go home and go to bed," he says. "Tomorrow's another day ... and a half."
