IN PERU´S CAPITAL

Enchanted by Lima: The gray city full of mist It was difficult to say good-bye to Fanny, who hugged us last at the bus terminal in Huaraz. We had spent almost fourteen days together and we promised that we would repeat the Huayhuash experience once more in our lifetime. We made it into Lima at 5 in the freaking morning. We got off the bus, stretched our sore legs, rubbed our empty stomachs, and breathed the mist that welcomed us into the capital city of Peru. We did not know what to imagine of this great monster. All we knew is what other travelers had warned us about repeatedly: Lima is ugly, chaotic, and just try to get out of there soon. We were curious about what ugly meant in this context and decided to stay in the city center despite the constant warnings from various people that came in the form of advice, “The downtown area is dangerous, you should stay in Miraflores where it is nice and safe”. We never stay in the upper class sectors of a city since we usually can´t afford to do so. We prefer the low-budget (and allegedly riskier) parts of town where we have quick access to the proverbial holes in the walls, the big informal (but very traditional) marketplaces, the Main Plazas, quick public transportation, and plainly stated, we prefer to get to know the heart of each city we visit. We got on a cab and arrived to our new “home.” A hostel on Avenida Tacna, one of the most transited streets in the center, would be our nest for the next eight days. We got the bedroom that had the best view in town located in the 15th floor of the city center´s tallest building. In the balcony lived a caged rabbit named Stalin that was brought to Lima by a traveling Russian reporter named Konstantine. Our new friend (and later alibi) Konstantine bought Stalin off a family that was going to make dinner out of him in some far-off rural town. Little did Stalin know that despite his name, he was only destined to dominate over the cage that overlooked the city and its chaotic scenes. Lima is not pretty and inevitably produces mixed emotions in the human brain. It is difficult to describe how Lima nourishes a fog throughout the day and how at night it seems like the perfect scene for Sherlock Holmes to walk inconspicuously through its streets like he walked through the dark streets of London in one of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's 19th century detective novels. Every few blocks you can pass by a church with stand of candles and palo santo (sacred wood) burning on the outside, its sweet smell blessing you as you pass by. With its mysterious veil that strongly provokes the newly arrived viewers to wonder more and more about Lima, it is hard not to feel the city’s enchantment coming in through all of your senses. But like any other big city it shares similarities with other chaotic and noisy metropolises. It intimidates you the same way that Los Angeles frightens the more chilled-out people from North-Cal. It is big, fast-paced, and cars honk all day as drivers parade their tensions in the slow-moving traffic, filled with big buses and industrial trucks. It is filled with taxis just like a main avenue in New York City where business folks hurriedly rush to their next big meeting. The streets smell of burned fuel, monoxide, fried potatoes, Chinese food (a.k.a Chifa in Peru) and fish; however, none of the smells mix as they each have claim their own moment in the matrix of public space; aromas that almost completely penetrate your skin but only for a minute as the environment then turns you to its next aroma that stays in the air as you walk away. Downtown Lima´s architecture is the most contrasting mixture of edifices, rooftops, balconies, windows, and colors we have seen thus far. It is easy to imagine that arquitects of the 1800´s got drunk with modern-day ones and designed Lima together. Any street around the city center will show you that it is possible for the past and the present to co-exist in tangible form. Print shops of the early 20th century with large wooden doors repeat themselves over and over again. Men hammering iron, large windows inside scratched wooden frames, colorful but broken balconies, and the restaurants without a sign on their facade give you a sense that that something used to be there or that it is still unfinished business. You can find either a vegetarian restaurant or a huge building with 19 century balconies or a church next to a print shop. What was most surprising was that in the middle of all of this mixture, you have about 5 to six blocks of a 21st century promenade with a KFC, various chain stores such as Topi Top, expensive clothing attire, fancy restaurants, ice-cream shops and all the paraphernalia of any downtown city in the U.S.A. Nonetheless, the grey sky, the capsule of mist combined with pollution that envelops the Lima sky, and the different faces that you cross, quickly remind us that we are walking on Peruvian urban grounds. We were feeling both in awe and overloaded with all the city sounds, the unfamiliar smells, the fast pace of the passersby, and the mistrusting feeling that new cities provoke in travelers. We then decided to get back to our new casita (home). We were trying to figure out how to get back (both of us have realized we have no sense of direction) when we saw a womyn with beautiful brown eyes wearing a dark blue uniform and a hat. She seemed to be working as a security guard. We approached her, introduced ourselves and asked if we could interview her for the MUCOV Proyect. The friendly womyn named Magali accepted and furthermore she invited us to go watch a basketball game that same evening. “I met the team sometime ago and joined recently. You will enjoy it,” she said. She had a smile on her face when she added, “Besides, how often do you get to see a bunch of people on a wheelchair crashing into each other trying to make three-pointer hoops?” “Not often,” we responded as we thought of how extreme our experiences get as we continue traveling. We had just arrived from our Huayhuash trek. Our legs were vital, indispensable, necessary, and the only way we could really carry ourselves to over 5,000 meters above sea level. And now, we were going to meet a group of folks who had to live a life using other tools to transport their bodies on a daily basis. We were curious to see another way to play a common sport, to see how human beings do not cease to amaze us. Having Limits is not an option we thought, not for us, not for anybody! And just like any big city in Lima the night life is just as vibrant and happening as the day one. We went to a local Salsa and Cumbia club Friday night with two of our friends (a unique experience not soon to be forgotten…read below) and danced the night away, something we have not done since Quito, Ecuador. Mayra has been determined to visit the lesbian and gay clubs in every big city we stay at. This is why on Saturday night we ended inside Vale Todo (Everything Allowed) nightclub. It was crowded in both floors, on the stair rail, in the bathrooms, by the bars, and especially in the dance floor. We have seen many party scenes were mostly LGBT&I folks go out to drink, dance, and enjoy a night where you don´t have to worry about being looked- at (stared at is more accurate), but this one was definitely CROWDED. We saw a drag show, many young faces that made us feel like we were back in high school, and beautiful, beautiful people everywhere. The rest is left for your speculation... For the last few days in Lima we hung out with friends we met in our Santa Cruz Trekking, ate ceviche a couple of times, interviewed two more womyn for the MUCOV Proyect and even had a Skype long-distance interview with our friend Patricio Maya (This time MUCOV was the interviewee for a change) who has a cool webpage you should all visit. And in conclusion, here is our usual run-on-summary of the rest of our days and nights in Lima: Fixed Camera for $50.00 (our mini-recorder named JESSA was resuscitated!), awkward encounters with the hostel owner, soy milk searches, filming in the Plaza de Armas with our personal bodyguard ( Konstantine who never left the house without his army jacket and combat boots), Chinese food, more awkward encounters with our hostess who continued to control our cooking habits, cleaning tendencies, and how much air we breathed per second (maybe minutes, we tend to exaggerate), a movie night (The Raspberry Reich), green tea, Coca Mate, getting lost, interviews, and Cerveza Crystal outside the terminal on our last evening in the sketchy street where we had to wait for our bus to Arequipa. P.S. Most unique Scene: A man selling individual bandages right next to a womyn that charged you about 2 cents to use her scale to weigh yourself right outside a row of pharmacies.

P.S.S. Most unforgettable hour: on our Friday night out, Carly twirling to a mixed cumbia song with our friend Gustavo who did a sort of chicken dance every time he spun while Mayra had to calm our drunk Russian friend who was getting on his knees confessing his attraction to her, followed by sudden jumps and kicks resembling a ballerina with a fine tut-tut in the middle of the tables (let us remind you he always wore his army jacket and combat boots). This is where the line between surreal and real disappears for us...