Lima

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My only full day in Lima turned out to be quite bizarre. Quite bizarre indeed.

On the afternoon that I arrived from Cusco, I made a bee-line for a restaurant in Miraflores called Punto Azul that a few people had recommended to me for its superb ceviche (raw fish). I soon realised that it must be a very popular eatery, as when I arrived at 2:30pm there was a lengthy queue. I was prepared to wait so that I could see what all the fuss was about and it certainly lived up to expectations, with the exception of the octopus, which I have come to decide is my least favourite seafood. As I was still suffering from the tiredness resulting my drunken night in Cusco, I decided to hit the hay early and get some rest so that I could explore Lima extensively the following day. It turned out to be a very wise move, as I certainly needed all of my wits about me.

After a night of sharing a room with yet another person who seems to take the volume of their snoring as a badge of honour (a girl in the dorm actually got up and shifted this snorer's pillow so that his head rolled onto its side, which seemed to quieten him down by a few decibels), I emerged from my hostel and headed to a café for breakfast. Living in a country Australian town, it is the norm to say hello to those whose eyes you meet. With this being second-nature to me, I say "Hola!" to everyone I see in the streets of South America. Well, on this particular day the good-natured habit made my interactions rather eventful. So, as I entered the afore-mentioned café I greeted a middle-aged man sitting on a couch who became rather friendly and animated and offered to take me for a two hour Spanish lesson, which I declined. He then offered to show me around the city, which I also declined. I was famished and really just wanted to sit down and eat my waffles and drink a strong coffee, so after a few minutes of friendly chit-chat, I excused myself and sat down elsewhere.

I didn't think much more of this overly friendly fellow and sat down to read my Lonely Planet guidebook to see how best to fill in my only full day in Peru's capital city. I decided to walk to a pre-Inca site known as Huaca Pucllana that was only about a half hour walk from the café. The site is still undergoing excavation, but it was interesting to see how people lived 1,500 years ago. From the skeletons they have unearthed, it seems that the average height was only five feet tall. The native people of this country really are tiny folk. Anyway, from here I decided to walk to the central district of Lima, where the main plazas are located. Lima is a sprawling city of over eight million people, so this walk took a few hours to complete. During this walk, my impression of Lima was that of a bustling, smoggy, noisy and frenetic city. Therefore, when I reached Plaza de Armas I headed to the main cathedral in an effort to find some respite. Once inside, the tooting horns of the taxis (which seem to outnumber the people) and the hectic rush of the throng disappeared and I was able to draw breath. This cathedral is extremely significant, as it houses the remains of Francisco Pizarro, the Spanish conquistador who rode on horseback with 180-odd soldiers and routed the Incas on the back of their own civil war (impeccable timing on his part). Pizarro was also the founder of Lima and there are statues of him everywhere. The statue in Plaza San Martin is rather amusing, as the female statue holding aloft a sign at his feet has a unique head piece. The instruction for the Peruvian sculptor was to adorn the statue with flames upon her head; however, something was lost in translation and atop her head is a seated llama! In Spain, llama means flame, but, as we all know, in South America a llama is obviously a funny looking animal. It made me smile. But I digress...

So, I emerged from the cathedral after a guided tour and was feeling at ease again, so naturally I said "Hola!" to the first person I saw. Well, from that moment on the afternoon began to unfold in a very unexpected manner. I should have twigged that things always happen in threes. First, there was the suspiciously friendly fellow at the café, then there was the park I walked through that had people dressed as lifesize prophylactics surrounded by men dressed as women (not for fun, for real). The man I greeted outside the cathedral asked me the time, which I replied to in fumbling Spanish. He turned out to be fluent in English and asked me where I was from and so on. After a minute or so, something in me felt a little uneasy, so when he asked how long I was in Lima for, I said I was flying out that night and just wanted to visit the recently discovered ancient city wall around the corner before heading to the airport. This turned out to be a stroke of genius on my behalf. He took it upon himself to accompany me to the wall, asking me many questions along the way. When he found out I was no longer married, he revealed that he was gay and that the next day was the annual celebration of all things gay in Lima (which probably explains the strange scene in the park). He was quite a genial guy and we talked about his background (he was from Nazca and of indigenous ancestry) and mine. Once I had seen the wall, I explained that I needed to get a taxi so that I could pick up my belongings and head to the airport. He once again took it upon himself to take me to a taxi, but not before asking me to take a photo of him, to which I hesitantly obliged. As we approached where I was to catch the taxi from, he veered into a café to get a pen and some paper to write down his e-mail address for me so that I could send him the photo. This seemed innocent enough, so I followed him in and then a very effeminate waiter brought me a bottle of Coke. Pedro (the 44 year old gay Nazca native) explained that it was tradition to share a drink. Before the bottle was half empty, a large bottle of beer also arrived. I reminded Pedro that I had to get to the airport, so he gulped down his beer and poured out another two glasses. Thankfully, I am an Australian and therefore after a few pots of beer I was still as sober as a judge. After he wrote down his e-mail address, he asked a waitress to take our photo and promptly swung his chair next to mine. This is where things became rather awkward, for me at least. As she pressed down on the camera button, I felt his hand land on my lower thigh and squeeze it! He then nestled his head into the small of my neck and giggled. I reached for my camera which necessitated Pedro having to separate himself from me. He then began to say things such as "I like your body" and reaching over to caress my arms. With the gay celebration beginning the following day, it was quite clear that Pedro had designs on me assisting him in getting things underway a day early. With yet another not so subtle reminder that I needed to get to the airport, I was able to extricate myself from his amorous clutches and get a taxi back to my hostel, where the thought of a snoring companion in my dorm seemed like bliss.

This whole interaction reminded me of a time in San Francisco back in 2002 when a snow-haired doctor bought me lunch and gently touched the back of my hands before giving me his contact details, whilst on the same day, a guy working in a jeans store was overly complimentary and excitable when I tried on each new pair of jeans. I don't have any problem with gay folk being open in their expression of feelings for one another, but when they project their ardour in my direction I feel decidedly uncomfortable.

After the events of the day I stayed in my hostel for the evening, partaking in a few brews from the rooftop bar and having an enlightened conversation with a couple of other travelers. Whilst I usually prefer to hang out with the locals during my travels, in this case I wasn't about to chance my arm (or anything else, for that matter) in the streets of Lima on the eve of their annual gay festival. Even an individual with a brow as prominent as mine was able to deduce that maybe it was better to have a quiet one on this occasion.

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Comments

[Dad]

Lima experience
Hi Bronson. So glad you were able to hold your beer (on this occasion) and extricate yourself from the clutches of the gays. I've never thought of the possibility of any of my offspring batting for the other team!