During our stay in Peru´s capital, we would attempt to understand the city, confront challenges with language barriers and maps and try to find an angle to experience the city that was fun, but also off the beaten tourist path. Results were mixed, but I feel as though we had a taste of everything.
As it happens, Lima is not a very tourist-heavy city. Most foreigners land and shuttle off to sites like Cuzco and Arequipa; the majority of those that stay in Lima spend their time in the more upscale, pricier district of Miraflores to the south of us. We would stay for five days in Uncle Rico and his wife Helen's fifth floor apartment in Central Lima where we slept on a spare bed and couch. Amongst the highlights of our stay were smoggy, dangerous runs, visits to Miraflores and Patchacamac and a soccer game at Allianza Stadium. I will begin with our flight out of Panama and the first day in Lima. Like any city there is a range of wealth, from the hill at the north end of the city where the coloful slums are perched, to the elecronic stores filled with LCD televisions and iPods.
Coming in to The City
I was glad to have a window seat for the flight out of Panama. I had the opportunity to watch the waves of the dark pacific ocean crashing over the strip of shallow turquoise water that stretched for miles offshore. The clouds obscured any vision of the Pacific for hours and I returned to my book. I peered down intermittently and could make out the pale green of the Amazon Rainforest.
Suddenly, the clouds gave way and there was no longer jungle but parched desert mountains beneath our wings. I could see lines of minerals in the landscape, visible in trenches carved by dirty, meandering rivers. The scene reminded me of Utah or Arizona. As we flew on, the mountains became taller so that I could perceive their great bulks reaching up for the plane, and our because we were moving, I was able to see just how large they were because of the shifting perspective. Only a few of the mountains had snow, but it was still an impressive sight, espcially considering how dry the surrounding desert was.
From the air, the Lima airport was concealed beneath the fog that is typical for that section of Peru's coast. As the plane descended, the shapes of fishing trawlers and old freighters appeared out of the mist. The shore was lined with thousands of shipping crates, stacked in towering masses along the shoreline.
The airport was not exactly an architectual wonder. The drab constructions of concrete and metal were our first welcom to Peru. Palm trees and and sand, lent the place a desert feeling, and along with the military feeling of the place, made it seem as though we had just landed in Iraq. Only the clouded sky seemed out of place.
In the airport we crossed immigration, got our bags and cleared customs with little bother.
As we stepped out onto the main concourse, I saw a middle-aged Peruvian woman holding up a sign for Max. Beside her stood a white-haired bearded man that I took to be Uncle Rico. We greeted them and shook hands. Ben, who had landed in Lima the night before, was in the terminal and completed the group. Together, we went outside and approached the line of taxis waiting outside. Helen talked to me excitedly in Spanish; I nodded my head and added what few words I had to offer in order to appear to understand.
A line of taxis with engines idling awaited us on the street. Uncle Rico hailed one, and the driver threw our bags in the trunk. Rico took the front seat and Ben Max and I squeezed into the backseat with Helen. Before anyone could buckle up the driver shot out into traffic. Billboards and Lima tenements flew by our windows while Rico gave us commentary about Peruvian history and culture. One sign advertised "Kraps" brand crackers with the catchy line, "Once you eat one, to stop is impossible!" The taxi shot around a traffic circle in the center of town where venders hawked guitars, charangoes and elaborately carved harps.
The taxi lurched to a stop in front of Rico´s and we unloaded our bags. We had to lug them through a gap in a metal gate out front and then up the five floors to his apartment. To toast our arrival in South America, Rico brought out some Inca Kola, a popular yellow liquid that tastes like bubblegum. Deliciousa!
Our First Run in Lima
There were many sites on the hitlist for Lima tourism, but the first thing we wanted to do was run. As it happened, July 29th was the second day of Peruvian independence. The sidewalks were swollen with people, the streets were full of speeding busses and taxis. Running on the crowded sidewalk, it was necessary to dance and weave so that we didnt step in front of any cars or on top of anyone´s kid.
Our clothing, tech shirts and short-shorts, attracted a lot of attention from the locals. As runners, all three of us have had our expereince with derisive members of the civilian population, but this was a whole new level. Everyone on the streets was watching us as we passed, often with smiles, laughter or pantomined running. Occasionally someone would shout something in Spanish that we wouldn´t understand, so we just waved stupidly and kept going.
This, along with the air pollution and the contant stopping and starting atintersections cut into the quality of the run consierably. Nonetheless, it was a good way for us to see some sites such as La Plaza d Armas and La Plaza San Martin. We finished by running back up the stairs to Rico's apartment. As it happened, the shower would not have hot water until the next morning. Time to man up.
The Chifa and the Pisco
After we were all clean, we decided to get our first taste of Peruvian Cuisine at a Chifa, or Chinese Restaurant. These types of restaurants are about as common as Chinese places are in the United States, but has slightly different, more Latin American type dishes as well. The name, according to Rico, derives from the way Peruvians would pronounce "Chinese Food" in English. "Chi-fa." Very interesting.
For myself, I ordered a hubcap-sized bowl of vegetable along side a plate of rice that was about a foot long and almost as deep. Though it was far more food than I needed in order to satisfy my appetite, I can be very determined when I want to clear a plate, and the delicious carbohydrates, grease and MSG provided all the incentive I needed.
Rico generously picked up the tab for us and we left to sample some Lima nightlife. We went back to the Plaza de Armas where the streets were thronged with people walking. Amazingly, as we wandered the surrounding neighborhoods, we couldn´t find a single bar. In place of drinking establishments, there were countless shoestores, probably more than I had seen previously in every shopping mall I´d visited in my life. Street vendors were at every corner selling Inca Kola, peeled oranges, ritz crackers, churros, meat and other items. There were dwarf ears of corn in steam trays, that had kernals the size of marbles. Where the hell could they be selling booze in this town?
At last, after about an hour of wandering amongst the shoe outlets, we broke down and opened the guidebook to find a place. As it happened we had walked by one of the most famous places in Lima when we were in the Plaza de Armas. The place a little classier than we were dressed but we walked in anyway and got a table with little bother. The national drink of Peru is Pisco, a brandy that is distilled from grapes and is generally served as a sour with lime juice. I wasn´t sure if I would like it, however I was pleased to find it delicious and with a taste much like a margarita. Also, we paid 10 Nueva Soles for each drink--about 3.50 US dollars.
To compliment the drinks, the three of us ordered a snack made from yucca plant, which was fried into balls. They were delicious dipped in sauce.
After we sat and shared much deep conversation concerning tourism, identity and the inner mystery that is the bro, we decided to turn in and get our sleep.
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