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Published: March 26th 2007
Hello friends,
I hope you all are doing well! I am currently in a Peruvian town called Pisco, about four hours south of Lima on the 90 km and hour Panamericana Highway. This route is basically the extensin of the west coast´s I-5 except that it is a two lane road without a median - necessary because some of the cane logging trucks move somewhere around 50 km an hour.
The first stop on the trip was a backpacking hostel in Miraflores (Miraflores is an upscale southern suburb of Lima) called the Flying Dog. A wonderful place with eight rooms, shared bathrooms and showers and a bar downstairs - a perfect place to loosen the tounge of any poor Spanish speaking American. Plus, si and cervesa were my most used Spanish words before my trip.
Miraflores is a bustling metropolis packed with Limenos, about 8 million, as well as civic and religious buildings of colonial grandeur. Lima is a town of many senses and sensibilities: smells of rotting food, urine and an indigenous population so poor that children urinate in the streets as taxi cabs zoom by heeding none in their path. I am struck with the
sad realization that poor is poor wherever you are and, though I am not current on Peruvian politics and economics, the liklihhod that the dollars I pay to see the great treasures of the ancient peoples of Peru - Machu Piccu, Nazca Lines and the exhibits of Lima´s Museo de la Nacion - will never reach their descendants now living in the streets.
Still, Lima is a quite a city and the taxis and busses are absolutely frightening, not to mention the fact that they make up about one of every three cars one of ten of which would pass even the most gracious smog emission test. The taxis use no turn signals just horn toots that, interestingly, also signal drivers coming from cross streets (none of whom stop at any stop signs s unless they must) of their intention not to slow down a hair. This method of trasportation makes trips quick and Simon sick. The only redeeming quality the horns seem to have is that they frequently play little bits of American songs like ¨Oh-Blah-De, Oh-Blah-Da¨ by the Beatles, or they whistle like a man does when seeing an attractive woman. These sounds combined with the constant
Inca Gold
Museo de la Nacion¨beep-beep¨ honks, revving throttles and the sounds of the people shouting, laughing and yelling makes for a beautiful metropolitan symphony unlike any I have ever heard.
Hightlights: Flying Dog Backpacker´s Hostel, Museo de La Nacion, the Main Cathedral in Lima, being stared at constantly, being taller than pretty much everyone, the rampant disregaurd for traffic laws, and people having the ability of a five-year-old to form a line and stay in their place without ¨cutting.¨
Thanks for reading friends! I will update you all after Pisco!
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Adam
non-member comment
jealously at home...
My "comment title" speaks for me. Take care of yourself, ingest and experience as much as possible, and remember to eat a guinea pig for me. Cheers bro...