A COUPLE of hours drive south of Arequipa, Peru’s second city, the Pan-American highway drops down from the high desert of the La Joya plain and threads its way through tight defiles patrolled by turkey vultures before reaching the green braid of the valley of the river Tambo. The river burbles past fields of rice, potatoes and sugar cane. It is a tranquil, bucolic scene. The only hint of anything untoward is the five armed policemen guarding the bridge at the town of Cocachacra.

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