A few weeks ago --and to much fanfare-- I wrote a post about food and cleverly dangled a photo of said yellow soda at the conclusion of the post, promising to later fully explain its origins. In keeping with my promises and my desire to make AMDAL a hispanic-friendly website, I'll deliver on that p!edge now.
As many of you may know, I've spent some of my best years in Peru. One of my favorite reasons to return as many times as I have is, of course, Inca Kola. I'm actually not even a soda drinker. In fact, carbonated beverages in general didn't become part of my diet until beer became an interest towards the end of high school (jeans were also foreign until 7 West Wheelock became my residence!); but the Golden Kola has a special place in my heart as it does in Peru's. In fact, a little research shows its quite the anomaly in the world soda market.
A favorite axiom of mine ponders what Coca Cola considers its biggest competition. Most people would respond Pepsi. The answer is actually water. But in Peru that answer would decidedly be Inca Kola. In fact, the question should really be reversed, given Inca Kola's peculiar market dominance. Peru is one of only a few markets in the world where a local soda outsells Coke. It's also one of only three markets where Coke has recognized it cannot compete and changes its secret formula to appeal to the palate of the locals (extra sweetener in Peru's case).
What makes Inca Kola so appealing? Well it's the taste, silly. (Though the novelty of the urine color is not to be underestimated). To outsiders it's often an acquired taste, one likened to liquid bubble gum; but no matter how you cut it, it's undoubtably refreshing. Its sugary sweetness makes it go all the better with salty foods, including Peru's famous fusion take on Chinese, chifa. And let us not forget the smoothness with which it washes down cuy, the guinea pig delicacy of the Andean region.
And again the coloring it quite interesting. In hospital settings I've often heard doctors compare a patient's hydration status/ urine color to the soda itself. Health nuts fear not. Not all is synthetic bad-for-you-ness. The coloring originally came from a local Peruvian plant, the hierba luisa, which is still commonly drank as a tea today.
The other significant reason I choose Inca Kola along with my Peruvian amigos, is political. Though recently a distribution/ production agreement was reached between the Peruvian Kola and Coke lessening the decades-long Kola War, many consumers choose Inca Kola because it's seen as the Peruvian soda, a patriotic choice, not unlike our own delicious Freedom Fries (which being a salty snack would go nicely with an Inca). The nationalistic Inca Kola advertising campaigns in Peru abound. El sabor nuestro (Our Flavor) is one of many similar slogans. The love affair is so rampant Peruvians even adorn their homes in Inca Kola statements of support. (I'm sure money has nothing to do with this.)
The bottom line is that like much of Peru and Latin America itself, Inca Kola is quite the enigma. In a world dominated by Coke and American markets, Inca Kola is a refreshing (pun intended) rejection of that paradigm, one that keeps beckoning me to return to Peru and return as a consumer.
I don't always drink urine-colored soda; but when I do, I prefer Inca Kola.
