El resto del fin de semana

As promised, below are accounts of the rest of my weekend. Enjoy!

Saturday I toured around Centro Lima, the historical part of the city, with the assistance of a coworker's husband, who is a taxi driver. It was beautiful--there were barroque buildings, cathedrals, the state house, etc. Unfortunately, some of the buildings had been transformed into something 'real mahden' (crazy Bostonian lady for 'really modern'*), and by real mahden, I mean that they tore down buildings and facades that were hundreds of years old and replaced them with less historic ones.

The first place I visited, other than the central plaza, was the Centro Lima Catedral, which was morbidly fascinated with death. See pictures below:

The Catedral de Lima looks normal from the outside.

And, at first glace, from the inside, too:

(Albeit excessively ornate, a frustration of mine about the church, but that's not the point.)

There's even a nun polishing some silver!

And this!

And a graphic depiction of a martyred saint!

And then it gets weird.

See the horse-ghost?

The saint holding a skull?

This guy standing on someone's head and holding his heart?

What about these baby coffins in the basement?

Oh, and, ya know, just a cabinet of human skulls.

One interesting thing about it, though, is that the remains of Francisco Pizzaro (conquistador of the Incas--not a great guy) are there in a small chapel.

Box where Pizarro's skull was found, walled in beneath the altar, in 1977 by some guys doing construction. (The wrong body/head combination had been on display since the 1890's. Oops.)

Pizarro's tomb--his remains reunited at last! (Allegedly)

Mosaic above Pizarro's remains

Mosaic on the opposite wall

We also went to the Catedral de San Francisco, which has catacombs beneath it! Those who know me know I can't stand horror and gore, but catacombs are actually pretty interesting. (For those who don't know, they're like mass graves beneath churches and cathedrals, primarily in Italy, Spain, and various Latin American/Catholic countries. They aren't meant to be morbid--it's like any cemetery mausoleum, just with less. . .discretion?) Photos weren't allowed, but basically the catacombs are tunnels, maybe five feet tall, lined with bones. There are a couple of giant wells that are meant to absorb earthquakes, which are also filled with bones. I found a picture on Google Images (viewer discretion advised):

When we went to leave after our touring, the car wouldn't start and we spent an hour or so trying to fix it.**

And that pretty much concluded my Saturday touring! Afterwards I had a delicious cheap lunch for about $1.70 at a cafe down the street. I have pictures, but, well, okay, here they are:

Don't be too jealous of this coffee. (Thought it looks awesome.) I had mega high expectations of the coffee, again courtesy of the Dominican Republic. (Thanks a lot, DR.) However, most of the coffee here is Nestle Instant!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There are few times in my life I have been so disappointed as I have been by this discovery. I didn't even know I was looking forward to it so much! Ay carumba, I hope that Puno has something to offer me, or I may just swim over to Bolivia.

Empanada--not especially Peruvian, but definitely delicious.

That's 5 soles, a.k.a. cheap as rocks. (The non-precious kind.) Actually, here's a funny story: After I sat down, ordered, and started drinking my coffee, I realized I only had 9 soles in my pocket and I could not remember, for the life of me, how much my empanada and coffee were going to cost. I was almost sure they were 6 and 5, each, so I started taking inventory of what things in my purse or on my person I could leave as collateral while I ran home to get the rest of the money. I decided that my camera would be the sacrificial lamb because I like my scarf too much and they would be idiots to trade my watch for 2 soles. In fact, I decided that if I were to leave my watch, I wouldn't even bother going back for it. It used to be the color 'white', but it's sports watch material (that's a technical term) and now is just the color 'dirty'. Anyways, turns out my empanada and coffee were cheap and cheaper, so I had plenty of funds for cuenta and tip!

Sunday morning I woke up at 7 a.m. to head to Gloria's house for breakfast with her family. (Remember from yesterday's post I'd gotten home from the discoteca at 3 a.m. Needless to say, I was sufficiently tired.) I ate with Gloria, her two daughters, and husband--we had some sort of delicious, fatty, fried pork and bread. Mmmmm.

(I'd like to mention here how incredibly kind and accommodating it was for Gloria to invite me over to her own house for breakfast Sunday morning, and then for her and her family to show me around the city. I was reminded a little bit of the beginning of The Godfather, Part I at the house in Hollywood because that's the best I know of wining and dining a business associate. I was a little nervous I would wake up with a horse head in my bead if the survey methodology didn't go exactly her way, but then I remembered that in this scenario I'd be the Robert Duvall, and it'd be an alpaca, not a horse.)

After breakfast her family took me to Miraflores (ritzy part of Lima) and Pachacamac (outskirts of southern Lima). I had lomo saltado (salty beef) for lunch, a traditional Peruvian dish, and it was yummy! Had enough left over for dinner. I tried a sweet tamale--it's like our Texican tamale, but without beef and sweet like corn. (Duh, b/c it is corn.) It was soooo gooood. I also had some of the best juice I've ever had in my life--jugo de lúcuma--a native Peruvian fruit. I'm going buy some at the end of the week as a special treat! I can't wait.

Anyways, here are some photos from Miraflores and Pachacamac:

Gloria's daughter, me, Gloria in Miraflores

Traditional dance at the restaurant (not sure if this is the real deal)

Precious little kids doing another traditional dance--they were AWESOME. It reminded me a little bit of Toddlers & Tiaras, but I'm giving Peru the benefit of the doubt and saying that if a little girl puts on makeup to honor her ancestors' culture, it's not the same as giving your six year old fake teeth and mascara so she looks like a baby stripper.

So cute!

Gloria thought those on the right were al alpaca and a llama...until the alpaca started nursing on the llama. We are *hoping* it's really a mama llama and her baby.

Plaza Pachacamac. There was a Catholic procession going on around the city--I'd read they happen all the time, and they really do! At first I thought their fireworks were either guns or cars backfiring. Surprise, just some Catholics walking around shooting off fireworks in some narrow streets.

Monkey that tried to attack us, Outbreak style, at the fancy restaurant where we ate lunch. Gloria was playing tug-o-war with the monkey and a water bottle, and when she won, the monkey (who has legit fangs, by the way) sauntered casually to a branch in the back of its cage and turned to face us, who were standing at the front of his cage wondering at his cuteness. Then, all at once, Outbreak monkey hurled its fierce, hairy little body at us, monkey-screaming, and crashed violently into the cage two feet from our faces. It was like it was trying to launch itself, ebola-covered teeth and opposable thumbs and all, through the wire and onto our throats. The monkey was screaming, I was screaming. . .I'd like to think that Gloria and her children were screaming, too, but I'm pretty sure the monkey and I were the only ones. We were all scared out of our pants, though, and Gloria just kept saying, "I didn't realize it was going to do that! I didn't know!"

Today in my meeting with Gloria, when I started to get nervous because I can err on the side of 'easily intimidated', I would remind myself of our shared experience, and think, "Gloria played tug-o-war with a monkey."

Until next time--

Audrey

*In Boston last year, two friends and I were marveling at a church that was built in 1667 when a lady from Boston, passing by with her husband, said to us, "You should see the inside--it's real mahden!" So we went around to the side, peaked in the windows, and were horrified to see that the inside had been gutted and looked like a 1970s Dunkin' Donuts/carpet warehouse. It was Pepto Bismol pink and magenta everywhere (not unlike my bedroom in the late 1990s) with geometric patterns and shapes anywhere possible. I'm still not sure if this lack of appreciation for history is exclusive to this one North Eastern woman, or is pervasive among Bostonians who live in a city saturated with it.

(I couldn't take a picture of the inside, but trust me.)

**The story of the car breaking down

Manuel looks like the beloved pre-cal teacher, Mr. Grabman, but Peruvian and with a mullet. His mullet wasn't a Billy Ray Cyrus, but there was definitely a party in the back. Unfortunately, the business in the front wasn't Yelp! approved. Safe and nice (the most important), his taxi left something to be desired. In that it didn't function.

Red Flag#1: It took Manuel six tries to shift the taxi into reverse Saturday morning when he picked me up.

The older gentlemen in the photo above is a mechanic who worked in the garage in which we broke down. I barely know car maintenance in English, so it would've been a true miracle if I'd understood what they were saying about the car in Spanish, but I was able to note that the engine seemed to have fewer parts than those in the U.S. Hm.

Señor Grabman explained to me that when the car is left parked--for example, every night--that the gas (propane, not gasoline) evaporates, so for this reason the car also has a little gasoline in a separate system. (This is Red Flag#2, but by this time it was too late.) Señor Grabman Ray Cyrus said there was indeed gasoline and gas in there, and if we just sit and wait and pump the gas pedal 4,000 times it will eventually start. Again, though I don't know much about car maintenance, this didn't sound quite right to me. I suggested we have the car jumped, but I was told the pumping would be sufficient.

Long story short, it wasn't, and after about an hour I left to find sustenance; I'd seen a lot of human skeletons that day. When I came back ten minutes later to let Manuel know that I'd be at the bread shop a couple doors down, the car had been jumped and was ready to go.

"This is Peru"

That's what Marisol (hostel owner) said to me Saturday night, at about 1 a.m., while out with her entire family celebrating her daughter Fiollera's 25th birthday.

We were at a discoteca of sorts with a live band and a dj, alternating. The live band covered a lot of South American music, but also lots of Estadounidense and British pop and rock (like ACDC, and Hey Jude, which one Peruvian thought said 'Hey, you!"). It was one of the coolest celebrations I've ever attended--the whole family, from cousins 20 years old to aunts and uncles in their sixties, was out on the town, listening to music, eating, drinking, dancing, and celebrating Fiollera. It was so nice and hospitable of them to invite me and the Argentinian doctor across the hall, Diego, to join them.

This is how Fiollera invited me (translated to English):

MY ROOM, 8 p.m., Saturday Night

I'm sitting on my bed, Skyping with Megan Kowalski. I hear a knock at the door. I get up to open the door and see who it is.

Me: Hello?

Fiollera: Hey, how are you?

Me: Good, thanks, and you?

Fiollera: Great! Tomorrow is my birthday--

Me: Happy early birthday!

Fiollera: --and it's a tradition to blaargaburdrapdip. My whole family is going. We are leaving at 10 p.m. and would love if you would come.

Me: Really?!??!?!?!!?

Fiollera: Yeah, definitely. Alright, meet downstairs at ten. Ten, tonight.

Me: Okay, ten tonight. See you then.

I go back to my bed and sit down. I realize I have no idea what I just committed to do.

I was so eager to get out after 6 p.m. that I'd agreed to what could have turned into any of the following scenarios:

a) Exacting the Latorre family's vengeance on a rival family

b) Drug smuggling

c) Seeing Transformers 3*

I assumed those are probably not Peruvian birthday traditions and I decided to go ahead and go. I wasn't sure what to wear, so I dressed like any sensible 23-year-old single woman: like I was going to a library or church.

Also, backing up, I can't emphasize how totally lame I was by responding, "Really???!?!?!!!" when she first invited me. I wanted to express that it was really nice of them to include me, but it just came off as desperate. (Which, actually, is probably also true.)

So what happened is: Fiollera's immediate and extended family, myself, Diego the Argentinian doctor, and Luisa, the sweet Italian girl who has lived here for two and a half years (!!!) went over to Miraflores (the ritzy tourist-ey part of the city) to a discoteca where, as I mentioned, there was a live band and dancing and celebrating. Bars and clubs in the US are not my favorite, as they're often sleazy and just make me feel sad. However, the discoteca, full of people of all ages celebrating and enjoying one another, was really, really cool. I wish I had pictures, but I accidentally left my camera battery in its charger last night. Just take my word for it--it was awesome. Except that I looked like I was going to the library.

I was speaking with Diego, the Argentinian doctor, for a while Saturday night about the cultural differences between here, the US, and Argentina. He said that Argentina is less open and welcoming than Peru--that in Argentina we wouldn't have been invited out to celebrate Fiollera's birthday. I said that in the US, generally, it's the same. We are more individualist. We need our own space and our own time. Of course boundaries are important, but what if we had been raised in an environment that encouraged fellowship as a way of recharging, rather than retreat? If our parents hadn't told us not to talk to strangers, but to invite strangers to celebrate our birthday with us? Didn't Jesus do this when he said to invite the poor and marginalized to our dinner parties?

It's humbling to feel like the outsider in a new place. I told a friend that I feel like the awkward foreign exchange student that's always eager to attend parties, join youth group, etc., because they are hungry for interaction, and maybe even acceptance. They're usually quiet, and when they do talk they're always positive, just happy to be included. I used this comparison in a more light-hearted context, but I think it applies on a deeper level, too. Like those foreign exchange students, or the marginalized of society, it's so hard to be the outsider.

Obviously I love traveling, but it's always a challenge. The first days and weeks in a new place are always uncomfortable, to say the least, getting to know a new place, not having many friends, and not being able to relate very well because of language and cultural barriers. Thankfully I've always made incredible friendships, and there have been gracious others who served their purpose for a time. So far, it's been no different here--between my gracious hosts at the hospedaje to CrediMUJER's director Gloria and her familia who showed me around all day Sunday, to the taxi driver whose wife works in my office, to the guys at Energym, I've felt more and more at ease; I definitely feel welcome. However, there's still a difference between feeling welcome and feeling like you're a part of something. I don't know, either, if there is a way to try to become a part of something; I think that one day, you just are. You live your life day-to-day, you learn the culture, you share experiences, and one day you are a part of everything around you. You're no longer the outsider.

Maybe that's how it works. I'm not sure. I haven't spent enough time away from home to really know. But, from this outsider's perspective, that seems like a plausible scenario.

Tomorrow you have the privilege of seeing what the rest of my weekend was like. Ooooooh! Ahhhhh! Luckily for you, you'll actually literally see what it was like because it'll be heavy on the photos and lighter on the words.

Besos (on the cheek),

Audrey

*That one's for you, Roger.

El fin de la semana

I tried to make this post short, but I failed.

Today was day #2 of work, and it went by quickly. Time flies when you have tons to do. I spoke with my supervisor in Seattle, which I really enjoyed, because our conversation made me feel better about the fact that there seem to be quite a few challenges to mediate. He encouraged me that this is just the nature of the job that I'm here to do*; it's funny because I conceptually knew that a huge part of my job would be facilitating communication between Vittana and CrediMUJER, but I am not really good, per se, at conceptualizing. I'm better with details and facts. Ergo, it was kind of humorous today when I realized, "Aha! So facilitating communication between CrediMUJER and Vittana means, like, taking what one doesn't understand, and what the other doesn't understand, and clarifying it for each...and then coming up with a solution." So, for all you kiddies out there that like to use big words in interviews, know that when you get the job, you'll have to know what those words mean. And do them.

Outside of work: Between ever-present cloud blanket, the fluorescent lights at my office and "home", and staring at a computer screen all day, I'm beginning to feel like I'm in a twilight zone of sorts. Blue Christmas lights always make me feel tired and light-headed, and this combination of light sources makes me feel the same way. Today I had to look up from my desk and around my office to make sure I was awake and not dreaming. Still not sure.

Additionally, I realized today (mid-sentence) while typing some notes that I talk to myself as loudly as our secretary does :)

Lastly, I stopped at the supermercado tonight on my way home (after going for a long jog on the treadmills at Energym, a gym at which I have a free three-day pass and two friends, woot!) to buy some food to cook for dinner. Food is so cheap here, and for S/6 (~$2.50) I got all of this:

and two bottles of water. (Speaking of which, I drank 2.5 litres of water today. I am going to have the healthiest kidneys!) Anyways, look at the tiny potatoes! I'm going to try to work my way through all the new potatoes I find. I was informed by some ladies at my lunch table that the six different kinds at PlazaVea (the grocery store) "are nothin'!"

That melon-looking fruit by the bananas is like a pomegranate, and starts with a 'g', but I don't remember its full name. More on it in a moment...

With the above ingredients I made this:

which was delicious, and would have been delicious tomorrow, too, except that this happened:

By the way, in case you cook mini-potatoes in the future, they boil much faster than sweet potatoes and carrots. Mine were kind of mushy (but still full of carbohydrates, ergo, awesome).

So the gromegranate. As someone who likes to eat (duh, who doesn't?), one of the most fun things about any new place is the cuisine. I've made it my goal, as I mentioned yesterday, to try all the new fruits I encounter. Today it was gromegranate's turn. Pictures first, report after.

The opening of The Pod:

The Pod ridden of its eggs, I mean seeds:

A cup of tadpoles:

So, I had somewhat high expectations of the gromegranate, as I love its more popular cousin, the pomegranite. Sweet and tangy, the pomegranate really could only be better if it were easier to eat, and even then, I think some of its luster would be tarnished. Anywho, the gromegranite, like that weird guy in your health class who says creepy things under his breath, is not popular for a reason.

So there was this one time when I tried to smell a new conditioner at Bath & Body Works. I opened the top of the bottle, put it to my nose, and gently squeezed it to bring some scented air out and into my nostrils. I guess I squeezed too hard, though, because I ended up snorting a ton of Sea Island Cotton. This is exactly what I was reminded of when trying the gromegranate; it felt like eating a heaping spoonful of slimy and crunchy Sea Island Cotton.

I didn't eat the whole cup full, but I did do my due diligence and try it three or four times before finally declaring it 'not good'. Instead, I ate my two bananas. (I was still hungry!)

Stay tuned over the weekend for some riveting updates. Tomorrow I'll be touring Centro Lima (the historic district); Sunday I'm having breakfast (at 8 a.m., across town) with CrediMUJER's director and her husband, and then tour the city with her. (She and the entire staff are incredibly accommodating and hospitable.) Monday, I'll be posting pictures of my favorite posters in our office.

¡Saludos, queridos lectores!

Audrey

*I guess here I should explain exactly it is that I'm doing as a Vittana Fellow. Maybe that would have been helpful a few posts ago. Better late than never.

Okay, so Vittana is a US-based NGO that works with microfinance institutions (MFIs) like CrediMUJER (a subsidiary of Peruvian NGO Manuela Ramos) to help them establish student loan programs. Microfinance has been around for about forty years, pioneered by Nobel Prize Laureate Muhammad Yunus, founder of the Grameen Bank, the first MFI. Microfinance traditionally is a method of providing small loans to the world's poorest, usually women, for them to establish their own businesses. Over the last four decades microfinance has been extended to other types of loans, like those for basic living expenses in special cases, or to celebrate a family event like a wedding, etc. (Loans for these purposes are much less common.) Microloans are always very small--usually just a couple hundred dollars--and reputable microfinance institutions generally have repayment rates upwards of 97%. MFIs are able to provide credit (loans) to poor borrowers who do not have a history of credit because of the structure of these loans. Often it works like this: potential borrowers form groups that are held responsible, as guarantors, for the others' debt. Borrowing one at a time, each person in the group gets their turn to borrow (and build their business) and repay. If a member defaults, the others are responsible for repayment, or they don't get their chance at credit. Almost always, business management, accounting, and other trainings are provided for entrepreneurs so that their businesses can become successful and self-sustaining.

In 2007, one of Vittana's founders Kushal Chakrabarti had the idea: What if microloans could help students in developing countries finish college? (In early 2009, I asked the same question, and tried to examine it for my senior thesis, but I got nowhere with the project and changed my thesis topic. Thank goodness Kushal didn't do the same.) In 2008 Kushal and a colleague from Amazon, Brett Witt, founded Vittana, whose purpose in life is to help MFIs establish student loan programs that work: they get money to students in need, and they get repaid by those students. The logistics are complicated enough, and you can read all about them here: http://vittana.org/about/faq .

My job in all of this is that of a Vittana Fellow, which means that I work in the field, with the MFI, CrediMUJER, that wants to start a new student loan program. To do this, I need to do things like 1) Make sure that the MFI and Vittana are on the same page regarding how this program will work and what it will look like. Vittana has a ~98% repayment rate on the 900+ loans in its portfolio over the last two years, and they have found a formula that works. That said, there are goals for the future Vittana would like to see, including expanding the potential client base (aka changing the rules so more students can get loans). Lots of things need to happen before that can happen, though, and this relatively young idea and organization need to first establish a good report with lenders (like you and me, via their person-to-person website), borrowers, and partnering MFIs. So anyways, my other responsibilities as a Fellow are 2) Conduct market research study in the area the MFI hopes to provide loans, to see what loan specifications will work best for this particular community. 3) Facilitate the creation of the loan product by making sure stipulations that are important to Vittana are incorporated, and also tailoring the loans to the needs determined in the market study. All of this is super complicated (and conceptual--boo), and I'm betting that maybe one or two of y'all will have made it this far. If that's you, kudos!!

That's about all I'm going to dump on you about logistics and microfinance. It really is an exciting field and it's especially exciting to see it manifested in student loans. Most of us complain about our student loans, but really, it's a privilege to be able to borrow money for our education. We are incredibly blessed to live in a country where we are able to do that so easily. (See tomorrow's blog entry about Morgan Nwangu, my Zambian translator, who first helped me realize this fact.)

The first day of anything is always weird, right?

Today I officially began work with Manuela Ramos/CrediMujer. I found out lots of things, like that I'll be responsible for individually interviewing 150+ CrediMujer clients for the market research study. (Vittana was hoping the loan officers would be helping out with this.) And that I'll be designing the study's methodology. (Why, hello there, Thesis. So we meet again.)

I also found out that I'm not as worldly-minded as I thought I was. Much like Tina Fey's surprise when she realized she was actually kind of homophobic, despite having many gay friends (see her book 'Bossypants'), I realized that I'm a little bit USA-centric, despite enjoying travel and having some non-USA friends. How did I realize this? I was quietly surprised/offended when my new co-workers asked things like, "Is California close to Texas?" or, when I would mention that Texas borders Mexico, someone would say, "I've been to Mexico City!" Um, No, California is not next to Texas. And that whole Mexico City comment is like me telling a New Yorker I've been to Ohio. (Which I haven't.) Come on, people! Don't you know United States geography?! We're the Fifty, Nifty United States! From thirteen original colonies!

In all seriousness, I wasn't offended, but I was actually a little surprised when my new Peruvian colleagues didn't know more about US geography. . .which is incredibly arrogant of me. (I would like to underline incredibly as well, but Blogger doesn't allow underlining.) Why should they give a cat's tail about our geography? Most Americans* don't know US geography. (For a thought-provoking discussion of the reasons why, see: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lj3iNxZ8Dww .) It was enlightening, to say the least. Hopefully I won't be able to climb back on that high horse.

Anyways, what follows are some statements--facts--about life that I realized/learned/was thinking about today. Read on and be informed.

Things that are awkward:

1. Extending your hand for a handshake when your new coworker is going in for a kiss on the cheek. Then going in for a kiss, and she extends her hand. Then extending your hand while she goes in for the kiss.

2. Going in for the full monty when your new senior-most colleague was going in for kiss on the cheek. (By full monty, I mean hug. Still über awkward.)


Things that are funny:

1. Our office manager talks out loud to herself while typing emails. (I do this, too, but [I think] more quietly.)

2. I briefly got locked in the bathroom stall at work today. If I had weak fingers, I would not have escaped. Thankfully, a sweet lady showed me a different, more reliable bathroom.


Things that are not funny:

1. How clammy my hands get when trying to speak Spanish with my new colleagues. (I can write and understand, but I've been freezing on the spot when speaking!)

2. My suitcase arrived last night sans brand new outlet adapter & surge protector, and the luggage tag I got two Christmases ago. (They were stolen out of my bag.)


Things that are totally awesome:

1. My suitcase arrived at all.

2. I had picked up an extra paper luggage tag in Houston and an extra outlet adapter in the Orlando airport, so all I lack is a surge protector (!!).


Lastly, something to ponder:

Isn't my urine more sterile than the non-potable water with which I wash my hands in the bathroom?

That is all! Again, I'm so sorry to those reading this that are a little weirded out by my candor. (Still thinking of you, Dr. B!) I hope that you all are able to enjoy, none-the-less, and there will be some practical entries soon with more substance. Right now, I'm tired of Spanish and market research and student loans. (And it's only day one :) )

-Audrey

The grand foyer on the first floor

Me at my desk

My desk

Doll next to my desk

Awesome art, crummy photo. It's nuts that we will pay millions of dollars for some artwork, and others, equally beautiful, hang on the wall of an NGO in Lima, Perú.

*At the risk of sounding snobby--but I really don't mean it that way!--The term "American" isn't quite accurate. Pretty much anyone in the Western Hemisphere (minus the Caribbean and tip of Antarctica, and a few outlying islands) are North American or South American. I prefer the Spanish term for US Citizen estadounidense and from here on out will be referring to US Citizens as such. Kind of like when we learned that "Indians" are actually Native Americans, and Indians are people from India.

First Impressions

Aquí estamos al fin del primer día.

As I'm writing this, I realize that the only time I've spoken English today is when I called my mom on Skype. Surprisingly and thankfully, my Spanish is returning to me a lot quicker than I anticipated. I can understand most everything people say (except mumbling...but that's difficult in any language) and when I'm not tired, I can speak pretty well. (As the day wore on, my Spanish speaking skills plummeted. See graph.)

Anyways, I'm going to try to make this not boring, but include some interesting things and lots of pictures. Pictures are good. Enjoy!

View from my window

First, I'm just going to list out my first impressions of Lima/Perú. Maybe at the end of my trip I'll look back and see if anything's changed, but probably not. I'll probably have forgotten I have a blog by that time.

Impressions:

1. Lima is very cloudy in the winter. Herman Melville said it is "the strangest saddest city thou can'st see. For Lima has taken the white veil; and there is a higher horror in this whiteness of her woe." Mario Vargas Llosa (famous Peruvian author) also had some depressing things to say about it, but I kinda like it. It's cool and breezy and without the sun shining, I don't have to squint. (Bye-bye, future crow's feet!) In fact, minus the humidity, the weather is awesome. Taking into consideration the humidity, it's still 100,000 times better than Central Texas' weather right now. (Sorry, friends.)

View from the rooftop of my hospedaje

And another

2. It's so clean! I swear the streets are just as clean as the (clean) streets of Austin and San Antonio. I think I had really low sanitation expectations, courtesy of la República Dominicana.

...Which brings me to 3. It's not a ton like the DR. Other than the same bathroom tiles and the speaking of Spanish, so far Perú is quite a bit different. It's cleaner, as I mentioned, and I am not getting cat calls all day. (As in professions of love, not calls from actual cats.) At first I was offended, and then I realized they just don't do that here. Machismo is alive and well in this Latin American country, but PTL it doesn't (hasn't) manifested like it does in the DR.

Looks just like a Dominican bathroom

View from my window

4. Food = yummy! Ate lunch for S7 (seven soles, roughly $3) and had enough left over for dinner. So, food also = cheap. Yay!

5. Peruvians are as short as rumored.

6. Except for the dueña of the hospedaje in which I'm staying. She is about my height and, more importantly, is wonderful. I am staying in a room just like an American hotel room; it has a phone, cable, bathroom with hot water (!!), and someone cleans my room during the day. And I get breakfast. (I haven't tried it yet; a little nervous. She said that a sandwich con mantequilla is involved. Google translate that.) It's locked and attended 24 hrs/day and the neighborhood is really nice; I'm seven blocks away from my office in Lima and four blocks away from a supermercado. Anyways, it's definitely more than I wanted to spend (S65/night, roughly $25/night), but the staff (Mar y Sol [Marisol] Latorre, her son who is about my age, and an older gentleman) is wonderful and I feel really comfortable and safe here. Mar y Sol took me to a restaurant around the corner for lunch and then to the supermercado so I'd know how to get to it. She even helped me find my work site :) (Special thanks to Kim Smith and Cedar Valley for the donation so I didn't have to stay in a legit hostel like in the movie Hostel.)

My temporary diggs

7. Oh, and the fruit here is super small! I found what look like mini strawberries (or, as I hear from my G, what strawberries used to/are supposed to look like) and some other mystery fruits at the supermercado, all of which I hope to try before I leave. Below are some pictures from the supermercado...

Peru grows lots of types of potatoes. The potato originated near Puno!

Giant carrots

Mini apples!

Mystery fruit. I tried to ask a woman if it's sweet, but she just told me that they eat it finely chopped on top of a salad.

Dark maize

I think some kind of mango?

These rotisserie chickens were SO much smaller than American chickens. (No added hormones...)

Fresh cheese :)

Fresh tilapia, anyone?

Near my hospedaje:

Oops?

And guess what was playing on the speakers of the supermercado when I first got there? Justin Bieber's 'Baby'. Peruvians love them some Estadounidense Pop!

I'm gonna stop here, because I could keep going on and on. I really hope my maleta gets here soon because, though Whisps are awesome (the disposable toothbrush--thank goodness I brought four!), I really want to brush my teeth with my real toothbrush, and my toothpaste is in my suitcase. (Continental left it in Orlando. Not sure how, because the layover wasn't that short...They also lost my bags last summer on the way to the DR...and bumped me off of two flights returning home from New Jersey this January. Moral of the story: Continental stinks, and fool me three times, I'm an idiot.)

Oh, and on that note, Copa Airlines totally rocks. I got a meal on both of my flights with them, and was able to sit in an Exit row by myself...for free. No extra charges. Yay Copa!

Saludos!
Audrey