My room was sunny this morning, and I woke late to the music coming through the window. Looking outside, I saw that someone had parked along the street outside of the house, and he was sipping beer and making a telephone call. I settled back into bed, classes finished yesterday. I've read a few books, but I regret not having written more since I've been here. My flight home is less than two weeks away.
Lima has been my home now for a couple of months. I live in a big house in the Salamanca district with my friend and his family, including his sister, mom, uncle, grandparents, and a maid from Iquitos, as well as our other two American friends. Somewhere a family system emerged, operating in two languages and sometimes none at all. Every morning Abuelo waves at me and says, "Hola Hola," and that is probably the only thing he will say to me all day. Everyday I go down to the first floor where the family owns a Bodega, and I buy chocolate and beer from Uncle Manolo. He sits behind the counter and at night he drinks with men from the neighbor who stop by to tell jokes and talk about fútbol. In the evenings we go to the little park a few houses down. It’s a public park, dark and identical to dozens more scattered in this neighborhood, and it has flowers and a big cross and a Virgin Mary shrine. "Vamos a la cruz, para tomar." We drink on the bench under the cross, making runs for cigarettes or more beer. All of the friends live on the same street; they've known each other since birth, since baptism. Their abuelas are friends. As they walk down the street, they whistle to the windows of each house to ask for each other.
I am looked after, told to eat more, made sure I'm comfortable. No one bothers me for smoking. I come down in my pajamas for morning avocado and lime, and sometimes walk a couple of blocks for fresh juice. I say buenos dias to the neighbors, and at night buenas noches, and fall asleep to my friend's sister watching TV and smoking her cigarette. We smoke in the bed. When I go to class I wave an arm and pay a Chino, jumping into a minivan with 20 people to take me thirty minutes across the capital to class. I chat with taxistas about my favorite Peruvian food (Pisco), and they shake their heads sadly and ask me about Bush. "Y Obama?" My lungs breathe the grey air of Lima, and my eyes have grown used to the winter clouds.
I am happy here, I am lucky. I'm going to miss Lima.
Happy Birthday Siraj.
Showing posts with label Peru. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peru. Show all posts
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Trujillo
The second stop on my trip was to Trujillo, a city located in the Trujillo providence northwest of Huaraz on the Pacific Coast. It's famous for its ceviche and surfing, both of which are amply available in Huanchaco, a beach community north of the city less than thirty minutes by bus. We stayed in Huanchaco, probably half as expensive as staying in town, and ended up spending most of our time relaxing on the beach and going into town at night.
While we were there, a few of the roads downtown were completely chewed up from construction, but surrounding the plaza de armas there are some nice churches, restaurants, and bars. If you're in the mood to splurge, the restaurant DeMarco offers great Italian food. Overall however, it probably wasn't my favorite place despite its name as "La Ciudad de la Eterna Primavera" (The City of Eternal Spring). I think I was expecting a warm summer Florida beach instead of the winter surf stop we ended up. Still, it was a pleasant break from the hiking, and if you're up for it, you can take an Incan boat out on the water and try your luck.
While we were there, a few of the roads downtown were completely chewed up from construction, but surrounding the plaza de armas there are some nice churches, restaurants, and bars. If you're in the mood to splurge, the restaurant DeMarco offers great Italian food. Overall however, it probably wasn't my favorite place despite its name as "La Ciudad de la Eterna Primavera" (The City of Eternal Spring). I think I was expecting a warm summer Florida beach instead of the winter surf stop we ended up. Still, it was a pleasant break from the hiking, and if you're up for it, you can take an Incan boat out on the water and try your luck.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Yunguay
Yunguay is a district of Huaraz that was destroyed in the 1970s due to a major earthquake. Everyone in the city was killed by falling rocks, except for 6 schoolchildren away on a field trip. Today a large church overlooks the ruins, and ironically it has become an incredibly beautiful area.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Huaraz
The first destination of my trip was to Huaraz, a city located in the Huaraz Province in central-northern Peru. Its situated at a high altitude, the highest mountain being at 6768 meters. For someone who grew up maybe ten feet above sea level, it was a bit of an adjustment, but I was luckily enough to only suffer a few minor headaches and shortness of breath. The weather was cool, warmer in certain areas but the nights get pretty cold.
The city itself is beautiful, everywhere you look there are these incredible mountain landscapes, white-capped mountains and hills checkered with agriculture. Downtown has hotels, restaurants, bars, shops, etc. The city for the most part is run on agriculture and tourism, the latter unfortunately is suffering somewhat. There's a lot of poverty, and I can't tell you how many soles we gave away to begging women and children. Its sort of tucked away, and the society has maintained so much of its traditional methods of functioning. Babies sleep comfortably in backpacks and there are llamas alongside the mountains and rainbow colored clothing. It was one of my favorite places we visited, and I would definitely go back if only to see the Nevado Pastorouri, a glacier, which was closed when we were there. Unfortunately, in 30 years there will be no more snow on the mountains.
We went on a tour to Carhuaz, Yungay, Laguna Llanganco, Parque Nacional Huascarn, and one to Queno cocha Laguna, Tunel Ishtka (4800m above sea level), and Chavin de Huantar. All of this was arranged through our hotel, the Imperial, which has some of the nicest owners, and is clean and cheap. As far as bars go, there are a lot around, but the Mococho has great music and drinks. Overall, Huaraz is an amazing city, the people are friendly and seem to be happy. I'll add more later as I think about it. Hope you enjoy the photos.
Taryn
More to come later for Huaraz.
The city itself is beautiful, everywhere you look there are these incredible mountain landscapes, white-capped mountains and hills checkered with agriculture. Downtown has hotels, restaurants, bars, shops, etc. The city for the most part is run on agriculture and tourism, the latter unfortunately is suffering somewhat. There's a lot of poverty, and I can't tell you how many soles we gave away to begging women and children. Its sort of tucked away, and the society has maintained so much of its traditional methods of functioning. Babies sleep comfortably in backpacks and there are llamas alongside the mountains and rainbow colored clothing. It was one of my favorite places we visited, and I would definitely go back if only to see the Nevado Pastorouri, a glacier, which was closed when we were there. Unfortunately, in 30 years there will be no more snow on the mountains.
We went on a tour to Carhuaz, Yungay, Laguna Llanganco, Parque Nacional Huascarn, and one to Queno cocha Laguna, Tunel Ishtka (4800m above sea level), and Chavin de Huantar. All of this was arranged through our hotel, the Imperial, which has some of the nicest owners, and is clean and cheap. As far as bars go, there are a lot around, but the Mococho has great music and drinks. Overall, Huaraz is an amazing city, the people are friendly and seem to be happy. I'll add more later as I think about it. Hope you enjoy the photos.
Taryn
More to come later for Huaraz.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Peru 2008
Last night I had my first, and probably only negative experience in Peru. My friend Siraj took me to see a Peruvian Cultural Folklore show, which included dancing and music from all around the country. The show was incredible, but I found myself for the first time feeling homesick. I was thinking about a family reunion I’m missing right now, one that doesn’t get to happen very often. By the time we left the show, I was feeling sort of down, yet I had never imaged myself as someone who would get so affected from being away. I’ve spent longer time away from my family, and I don’t mind being by myself; I was honestly just missing country.
On the way home, the cab driver overheard that I was using some English words mixed in with our conversation in Spanish. He asked Siraj, “is she American?” Then to me, “all Americans are capitalists.” He went on for several minutes, ranting about the States and how we are capitalist and manipulative and our fooled by our corrupt government, which exploits his people. Siraj began talking to the guy, but his words fell on me hard. I got worked up, I called him ignorant, and told him that we weren’t paying him for his opinions, and that we weren’t interested in what he had to say. He ignored me and smiled, and continued on with Siraj.
Up until now I have not experienced any sort of hostility from any of the people I’ve met across the places in Peru I’ve been. Siraj later told me that many Peruvians have grown resentful over the effects of the Free Trade Agreement, something that arguably is good for both sides in the long run, but as of yet has caused many South Americans to suffer financially. We experienced this firsthand last Tuesday, when on our way back to Lima from Chiclayo, our bus along with 20 others was held up at a gas station on the highway due to agricultural riots. At 1am, a large group of campesinos got together and blocked the highway, burning tires and throwing rocks. Apparently Chavez called for the strike, and in Peru at least, the people petition by affecting public property instead of picketing government buildings. The problem is, according to the general census the police here don’t seem to care about much. I saw maybe one or two police that entire night stationed to “protect” and keep order of the hundreds of people stranded. The rest of the squad didn’t arrive until late that next morning, and the buses didn’t leave until 2:30 pm, when they finally broke up the riots.
In any case, I just as easily could have ignored the cab driver, or tried to talk with him myself, but I found myself growing extremely upset, to the point where I demanded he let us off at the next safe neighborhood. Coming here this summer I expected to learn about myself and grow, or evolve, or whatever. If you know me, then you know that I’m a pretty independent person, and that I like taking care of myself. I’ve always considered myself the kind of person who is up for adventures and challenges, and experiencing new things. I never thought though that I would feel very homesick, or not be able to successfully find my stride in a different culture. However, for me this trip has sort of illuminated all of the little invisible dependencies I have made in the comfort of my own country. I never really examined Americanism, but here I am digging my hands through it, incredibly more aware of where I come from, and what that means.
I’m experiencing a new sense of overwhelming pride, and emotion for my patria. An obvious observation is that so much of who I am is defined by where I came from, and trailing behind the many advantages I was only faintly aware of before this summer, follow weaknesses rooted directly in the soil of my country. I’m arrogant, and I was fortunate enough to have developed standards that don’t translate abroad. I’m dependent on luxuries like texting, toilet paper in bathrooms, buses that run on a schedule. My life is so rigidly structured, much more than I ever realized. And while these are not necessarily bad things, I haven’t been coping with the transition well. I promised myself during the backpacking trip I would make the effort to only speak Spanish and not depend on Siraj’s English. Halfway through I quit, straight up ostracized myself, rejecting whatever I could of the foreign culture I’m surrounded by. I’m mad at myself for not being more passive, not being more with the flow, and for not realizing this about myself sooner.
But as I said, I had expected something to change. Maybe this is not exactly what I had pictured, but its still part of the process. More blogs to come later. For now, estoy en buen camino.
Hasta luego,
Taryn
On the way home, the cab driver overheard that I was using some English words mixed in with our conversation in Spanish. He asked Siraj, “is she American?” Then to me, “all Americans are capitalists.” He went on for several minutes, ranting about the States and how we are capitalist and manipulative and our fooled by our corrupt government, which exploits his people. Siraj began talking to the guy, but his words fell on me hard. I got worked up, I called him ignorant, and told him that we weren’t paying him for his opinions, and that we weren’t interested in what he had to say. He ignored me and smiled, and continued on with Siraj.
Up until now I have not experienced any sort of hostility from any of the people I’ve met across the places in Peru I’ve been. Siraj later told me that many Peruvians have grown resentful over the effects of the Free Trade Agreement, something that arguably is good for both sides in the long run, but as of yet has caused many South Americans to suffer financially. We experienced this firsthand last Tuesday, when on our way back to Lima from Chiclayo, our bus along with 20 others was held up at a gas station on the highway due to agricultural riots. At 1am, a large group of campesinos got together and blocked the highway, burning tires and throwing rocks. Apparently Chavez called for the strike, and in Peru at least, the people petition by affecting public property instead of picketing government buildings. The problem is, according to the general census the police here don’t seem to care about much. I saw maybe one or two police that entire night stationed to “protect” and keep order of the hundreds of people stranded. The rest of the squad didn’t arrive until late that next morning, and the buses didn’t leave until 2:30 pm, when they finally broke up the riots.
In any case, I just as easily could have ignored the cab driver, or tried to talk with him myself, but I found myself growing extremely upset, to the point where I demanded he let us off at the next safe neighborhood. Coming here this summer I expected to learn about myself and grow, or evolve, or whatever. If you know me, then you know that I’m a pretty independent person, and that I like taking care of myself. I’ve always considered myself the kind of person who is up for adventures and challenges, and experiencing new things. I never thought though that I would feel very homesick, or not be able to successfully find my stride in a different culture. However, for me this trip has sort of illuminated all of the little invisible dependencies I have made in the comfort of my own country. I never really examined Americanism, but here I am digging my hands through it, incredibly more aware of where I come from, and what that means.
I’m experiencing a new sense of overwhelming pride, and emotion for my patria. An obvious observation is that so much of who I am is defined by where I came from, and trailing behind the many advantages I was only faintly aware of before this summer, follow weaknesses rooted directly in the soil of my country. I’m arrogant, and I was fortunate enough to have developed standards that don’t translate abroad. I’m dependent on luxuries like texting, toilet paper in bathrooms, buses that run on a schedule. My life is so rigidly structured, much more than I ever realized. And while these are not necessarily bad things, I haven’t been coping with the transition well. I promised myself during the backpacking trip I would make the effort to only speak Spanish and not depend on Siraj’s English. Halfway through I quit, straight up ostracized myself, rejecting whatever I could of the foreign culture I’m surrounded by. I’m mad at myself for not being more passive, not being more with the flow, and for not realizing this about myself sooner.
But as I said, I had expected something to change. Maybe this is not exactly what I had pictured, but its still part of the process. More blogs to come later. For now, estoy en buen camino.
Hasta luego,
Taryn
Monday, March 17, 2008
Un verano inolvidable
This summer I am traveling to South America for a total of 10 weeks, predominantly Cartagena, Colombia, and Lima, Peru. This is my first time living and traveling abroad, and I can't even begin to tell you how excited I am. I am going to Colombia with the NPO, Children Beyond Our Borders, to work with a group of underprivileged children for two weeks. I am then traveling to Lima, where I will live with my friend Siraj's family for two months. The first three weeks are tentatively planned for traveling, hopefully up to the highlands, through the jungle, and of course, visiting Machu Picchu. For the next month I am taking a couple of courses at the University of Pacific, as part of ISA's study abroad program. The last week will include festivities from Peruvian Independence Day.
I would like to document this trip via blog so that family and friends who are interested can see what I am experiencing, and keep in touch with me. I plan to post many pictures, and I am in fact currently looking for a new camera. Any recommendations would be greatly appreciated.
The process to put this trip together has been long and stressful. To those planning on studying abroad: start early and stay organized. UF is a bureaucratic nightmare; I have been to every office, department, advising center... and back. Yet although some of these experiences have not always been pleasant, I've found that many advisers on campus truly care about their jobs and the students they are helping. Without some of them, this trip would probably not be possible.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the next few months of posting - please keep me updated too on what you're doing!
I would like to document this trip via blog so that family and friends who are interested can see what I am experiencing, and keep in touch with me. I plan to post many pictures, and I am in fact currently looking for a new camera. Any recommendations would be greatly appreciated.
The process to put this trip together has been long and stressful. To those planning on studying abroad: start early and stay organized. UF is a bureaucratic nightmare; I have been to every office, department, advising center... and back. Yet although some of these experiences have not always been pleasant, I've found that many advisers on campus truly care about their jobs and the students they are helping. Without some of them, this trip would probably not be possible.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the next few months of posting - please keep me updated too on what you're doing!
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