By the people, for the people and most definitely of the people.

Well, Peru has a new president!

As of Sunday evening, Mr Garcia is the president elect of this fine country, having meet and conquered over Mr Ollanta at the brink of dawn. He took his opponent down with a glancing blow to his weaker right side. There was cheering, there was dancing and I tell you, Mr Garcia was wearing some spanky pants.

So what does this mean for this Inca obsessed nation?

Let me give an honest answer- Buggered if I know.

Let's just say Peruvian political theory and process don't give me a much needed edge whenever I barrel on down to the Point for a round of Pub Trivia. I would say that it would be about on par with my knowledge of the migration patterns of sub saharan pygmy possums.

Instead, let me tell you about the build up. The hype. The t-shirts. Yes, being an eyewitness is something that requires no particular skills and therefore something that feel I completely qualified to comment upon.

Peru knows how to put on an entertaining election. The Australian Electoral Commission could definitely take a leaf out of their book. The last few weeks have seen the normally pleasantly calm city of Arequipa festooned with posters, balloons, badges, stickers and mittens. But it is not just about looks, people. It is also about people giving opinions they are clearly not qualified to hold. You could not buy a bread roll in this town without also buying an political commentary. Every second taxi driver felt compelled to tell you why Mr Garcia would be better for the health system or why Mr Ollanta smelt like pigeon poo. Every fifth taxi was itself carrying a loudspeaker bigger than the car itself, broadcasting dubious political messages while simulaneously trying to plough down unsuspecting Commonwealth citizens.

But my favourite little tidbit in the hodgepodge of ups and downs that has been the last few weeks has to be the tricycle riding mobile greengrocer who, like the taxis, had his own loudspeaker which was jettisoning this little ditty into the ether -

Mandarins, Mandarins, Bananas.
Ollanta will do better things for the poor.
He said he would, so it must be true.
Apples, Bananas, Mandarins.

Catchy, no? When it comes down to it, two middle aged men with unruly eyebrows doesn't really stack up.

Now that I think of it, that little verse gives me an idea. I think it would be a bit better with a bit of a beat. Maybe even some...

Rock and Roll.

Paddy.