Combis and Other Obstacles

Happy March! While many of you have been battling blizzards in New York, this is how my roommates and I spend our mornings here:

It’s hard to believe that I’ve only been here a week. It’s been something of a roller coaster. I spent a few days feeling like a child every time I tried to speak Spanish, which was pretty hard. It didn’t help that this city is intimidating when it comes to public transportation (more on that momentarily), especially when one is only semi-lingual. Back in New York, my friend Karina warned me to brace myself for some culture shock, but I was still caught off guard by it. Perhaps that was arrogant of me; oops.

BUT. During my course with SITI Company last month, Stephen reminded us again and again to throw ourselves directly at the obstacle rather than try to go around it. So, that’s what I’m trying to make myself do with this particular obstacle: I’m starting Spanish classes tomorrow, I’m trying to talk as much as possible, and I’m becoming a master at using the Combis to get around this huge city.

Combis! They are an anarchist’s ideal form of public transportation, and I love them. Combis are little busses or sometimes vans that speed up and down most of the major roads in Lima. One person drives, while another stands at the bus door and yells out the name of the street where they’re going: “JAVIER PRADO JAVIPRADO JAVIPRADO!”. (The combis also have street names painted on them, but sometimes those are inaccurate.) You wait until someone drives by yelling the name of the street you want, and then you ask them if they’re going to pass your cross street, and then you hop on. Sometime during the ride, the Yeller comes around and collects your fare (usually about 30 cents in US money), and then, when the bus is approaching your street, you yell out “Baja baja baja!” (“Getting off getting off getting off!”), and there you are. It’s brilliant and way more fun than the MTA. The only problem is that I’m usually too tall to stand up straight, and I’ve bumped my head and stepped on people and generally made a stupid turista of myself several times. Ah well. I’ve only had one week of practice.

To conclude: First week in a new country = (unsurprisingly) hard. Combis = fantastic. Maletó, the Peruvian Perro = still wonderful. Here are some pictures! You can click on them to see the full-sized image.

Maletó. I mean, really. How can you not love this creature?

A blurry picture of the casita (little house) on the roof where I've been sleeping. It's really pretty nice, except for that green light bulb. But Rachel and I move into a new room this week, and I'm ready to unpack.

The view from the roof at sunset. Not bad, eh?

More to come soon...

Mucho gusto, Lima

Hola amigos! I've been here three days, and I know that you've all been on the edge of your collective seat, waiting for an update. Well, here I am!

Lima is big, and lovely, and full of delicious fruits, and cloudy, and confusing, and beautiful. I've alternated between being exhilarated to be here and feeling totally lost. Apparently, this is a common experience when you decide to move to another country; go figure.

I'm living in Pueblo Libre, which is lovely. Here's a picture of our neighborhood, taken from the roof of our house. The dude in yellow is selling ice cream. He goes around blowing a funny horn that sounds like a bird. It's very different from the Mr. Softie jingle...


So far I've only explored three neighborhoods (there are about 50 in Lima; it's enormous)-- the lovely afore-mentioned Pueblo Libre; Jesus Maria, which is closer to Central Lima; and Magdalena del Mar, which is aptly named, since it's on the ocean. I went there expecting to encounter a beach, but instead I found a cliff, a cloud, and a construction site. According the billboards, there's a huge public works project going on to convert the coast into a green paradise for all. I am a little skeptical of such development (are they really builing condominiums and tourist attractions?), but what do I know? Either way, I came home from that particular expedition sunburned as all hell and more than a little bemused. My new roommates thought that the whole escapade was pretty funny-- only tourists would expect to find a beach in Magdalena del Mar-- and everyone keeps remarking on how red I am, but I think it's funny, too.

Speaking of the new roommates-- they're amazing! I owe my friend from college, Shruti, big time. She got us in touch with her friends, and now we're staying with them in this beautiful, colorful house. It's currently shared by 6 people (one of whom I still haven't met), plus me and Rachel. It's a little crazy, but three of the current occupants are leaving in the next two weeks. Then Rachel and I will move into one of the big rooms. For now, we're sharing a tiny casita on the roof! It's actually quite comfortable, and the view is lovely when you can see it. Lima spends much of the year cloaked in fog (part of the cause of my burn-- I forgot that what you can't see can still burn you). Here's a shot of Rachel playing Vinny Roberts III on the roof:


I've been in touch with Ana from Yuyachkani, and I'm going to meet her and attend a workshop with them this weekend. She's unbelievably kind and welcoming. If there's a Giant Karma Counter in the Sky, then I owe it some serious generosity to thank it for Ana.

And in conclusion, I give you: Maleto, the pre-Columbian Peruvian Perro. These dogs have been beloved in Peru for centuries (much like the Chihuahua in Mexico), but wow, they're ugly. Maleto is 20 years old and pees all over the place, but there's something special about him that makes him lovable. Maybe it's the tumors.


Love to you all!