Day 8: The Lima Layover

Museo Nacional de Antropologia, Arqueologic y Historia del Peru
Lima, Peru

March 14, 2009: From Puno to Lima, Peru

Dear Grandma,

Today, I went to a wedding in Lima. Obviously, I didn’t know the people who were getting married. And, seeing that I don’t know Spanish, I couldn’t even tell you what the priest was saying. What I can tell you is that priests around the world have one thing in common; they like to hear themselves speak. This guy had one of the longest homilies I’ve ever heard in a Catholic wedding, and Lord knows, I’ve been to enough of them. Yet, there was something quite peaceful about sitting in the church, surrounded by people I didn’t know, with a little dog barking somewhere behind me. I could just sit there, with the intermittent Catholic aerobics (stand, cross yourself, sit, rinse, repeat). No concentration necessary – just embrace the calm.

In retrospect, I’m not quite what the name of the church was or even where it was located, I was so lost by that point. I’m not even sure that the three other people with me would know. We had been on the road since 6 a.m. when we left our hotel in Puno for the airport in Juliaca. We probably should have left earlier, seeing how we pulled up to the airport at the time our plane should have been leaving!

Note: When traveling in South America, never believe the time estimates given by the tour guide. Our guide said it was only 45 minutes to the airport, but it took us over 90 minutes. We got stuck in construction and then the cops pulled the bus over to check the driver’s papers and license. After careful consideration, I recommend that you triple any estimates you are given. For example, plan an hour for a trip that supposed to be 20 minutes. Trust me on this!

Fortunately, our group made up approximately half of the passengers on the plane, so it was held for us. I suspect that the airline folks didn’t want the headache of trying to rebook 28 people onto another flight, especially since we were told that all of the flights from these high altitude cities are in the mornings. We scurried into the airport, paid the airport tax, and rushed through security. Our luggage was checked en masse – the clerk just gave M. the baggage claim tickets for the entire group. I was a little worried that my suitcase would be left on the tarmac, but LAN didn’t let us down. Phew!

Now, this wasn’t the only drama at the airport. We nearly lost Lucy … again. Here we were, running for the plane, plopping in our seats, cramming our backpacks in any space that could be found, when someone said, “Where’s Lucy?” Pretty soon, M.’s wife was shouting down the aisle: “Lucy! Lucy! Where are you?”

I’m sure all of the Japanese tourists on the flight thought we were nuts.

Lucy, apparently, had a fight with the cashier at the airport tax kiosk. Then she had a panic attack. When she finally got onto the plane, the crew had to give her oxygen. Really, it’s a miracle our flight ever left Juliaca.

The Pacific Ocean
Lima, Peru

Unlike the U.S., where you tend to have a hub-and-spur type of flight pattern, our flight actually stopped in Cusco to let people off and take on new people. While we were sitting there, waiting to take off for Lima, we saw a plane that was trying to land. It touched down, but took off again before it ever stopped! It managed to land on its second attempt. I’ve never seen that happen before, but I sure am glad that I wasn’t on that flight because I am sure that the people on that plane were freaking out.

We finally made it to Lima, we grabbed our bags and then made our way to the buses. Our new tour guide, Dante, was going to take us on a tour of the city, but Michael intervened so that we had plenty of time at the Museo Nacional de Antropologia, Arqueologic y Historia del Peru. That’s the anthropology, archeology, and natural history museum. We had a huge group, so it was a little problematic fitting us all into the different displays, so after P. and I found water (it was really damned hot at sea level after being up at Lake Titicaca for a few days) I struck out on my own. Some of the displays were a bit, uh, pornographic – and these were the tame ones!

Of course, we didn’t have enough time to really explore the whole museum – our guide told us to consider this a “Peru sampler” – but we had to keep going because we were supposed to have lunch at this horse ranch. Our guide, however, was sneaky and made the driver take us on an abbreviated tour of Lima. We found ourselves driving down the coast so we could look at the Pacific Ocean. At first, the coast was pretty trashy and I mean that literally. All sorts of trash had washed up on shore. Then there were all the mounds of fill dirt because an expressway is going in along the shore. Eventually, though, we found some nice spots along the shore – there was a surfing beach named after Waikiki, there was a dock that reminded me of Daytona Beach, there were people tanning on the shore. The funny thing is that the shore was so rocky that it just couldn’t have been comfortable, flopped down on just a towel!

Squatters
In the hillsides around Lima

 The bus eventually turned around and headed out of town towards the ranch. Along the way, we went through miles and miles of squatters’ homes. I wouldn’t characterize them as slums, exactly, because some of the areas were well established. You see, Lima has a population of around 9 million people, four million of which are living in these squats that line the hills. These people came to the city, hoping for a better life: schools for their children (in Peru, students are only required to go to elementary school, so I guess that there aren’t a lot of high schools out in the rural areas) and safety for their families (they were escaping the Shining Path rebels of the 1980s). The squatters worked together to provide their own infrastructure because the government won’t do it – they have built roads, sidewalks, and stairs. It’s a very communal society.

Soon, we found ourselves on the Pan-American Highway, headed towards Los Ficus Casa Hacienda, home of the Peruvian Paso Horse. I’m fairly certain that our driver was lost as one point, but we eventually we drove down a dusty dirt road, through some dubious neighborhoods, and ended up in front of the driveway to the ranch. Our driver tried to get down the driveway, but failed, so the group ended up walking through the dust, past the armed (I think) guards, and into the most amazing oasis. We were welcomed with – what else – pisco sours and an appetizer of French fries as we settled down to watch a horse show. I won’t lie to you. By the time we got there, I was hungry enough to eat a horse, but the show was worth starving through. Those horses were incredible. Seriously, it was like watching a ballet, the horses were so graceful. Afterwards, some of the people on our trip took a turn riding the horses, then we had the best food on the whole trip: organic salad grown on site, three types of potatoes, roasted chicken, and homemade ice cream (vanilla, chocolate, and butterscotch) with fresh strawberries.

After our lunch – which we ate around 4 p.m. – we headed back into the city. This is when the majority of our group went shopping and I ended up sitting through the wedding.

 

Peruvian Paso Horse
Los Ficus Casa Hacienda, near Lima, Peru

Later, our tour guide tried to feed us dinner, but it ended up being a disaster. We waited forever for the food to come, but all that arrived were our appetizers (avocados stuffed with chicken salad). People were starting to panic about making it back to the airport, so M. made an executive decision. He forced the tour guide to call it a night, leaving the restaurant with all the half-cooked food to deal with.

The food – and the waiters – really were the worst part of this trip.

Unlike our trip to crazy rush to the airport in Juliaca earlier, we made it to the Lima airport with time to spare. That’s a good thing, seeing how it took forever to get through security. First, the guy tried to take away my $10 sunscreen, even though it was 3 ounces. Then, he tried to take away my drop because he couldn’t decide what type of candy it really was. The word licorice didn’t compute. P. finally intervened on my behalf, saying that it was anise. That actually worked and the guard finally let me through. No need to panic though; our flight ended up being delayed for what seemed like hours (but was really only about 50 minutes) while the ground crew changed the tire on our plane.

When we finally got onto the plane, we had more ‘Lucy’-related drama. You see, ‘Lucy’ was supposed to sit next to the woman she fought with earlier this week … but she wouldn’t! Instead of talking to M. or trying to change seats with another person on our trip, she actually went to the stewardess and refused to take her seat. The stewardess nearly put her off the flight, because she was afraid that ‘Lucy’ would do something crazy like try to break a window or open a door.

Incredibly, huh?

The rest of our trip was uneventful. Granted the food on the plane smelled like the bathroom was overflowing (I’m not exaggerating – it was that bad!) and the guy next to me hogged all my legroom, but we made it to Houston without incident. ‘Lucy’ didn’t open any doors, she didn’t have another panic attack, she didn’t fight with another passenger. There was one bad moment in the Houston airport when P. got a text message from The Coach saying that her car had been stolen, but fortunately it was the neighbor’s car. Phew!

Speaking of The Coach … he met me at the airport with my official T&P letter in hand, clean clothes, and hotel reservations. He even had a T&P present for me.

Yeah, it’s a good thing I schlepped that chessboard back from Peru, eh?

Love,
Disenchanted

P.S. Regular blog programming will return later this week …