I’ve been sick for a week now, a sinus infection followed by a cough. For the first time, I feel like I can breathe a bit. These moments happen. Then an hour or two later, I feel ill again. 

I’m staying in a large, dusty house–perhaps a hotel at one time–somewhere near the outskirts of Arequipa. There are enough beds for ten people, I think. And each room has its own bathroom, which makes me suppose at one point travelers use to rent rooms here. I visited each bathroom, vainly wishing for hot water, pulling levels and following complicated plumbing structures to realize my mistake, but nothing. No hot water just the same cool air pouring from the windows and the same cold water dripping on my hand. I hear a burst of water from a near bathroom. Perhaps G-d has given me a miracle? I place my hand underneath the water and my hand turns blue instead of red. 

I return to my bed to sit at a particular spot near the window that receives Internet. Then I read my first Jorge Luis Borges short story, “The Gospel According to Mark” about a cosmopolitan Buenos Aires man who goes to the countryside where he pretends to understand the Bible and reads it to country people. In the end, they crucify him.  

Another girl spent the night in this mansion. She’s British with a friendly smile and a contagious laugh. We spoke for five minutes, quick fluent English, and then she left to work on one of the projects for the children.  Besides that, I have spoken the young man hired to clean.  I felt awkward watching someone else clean the house while I eat bread with honey and tea. So, I played Maná. Then Amy Winehouse. He loved Amy Winehouse and asked what the meaning of the songs, “Rehab” and “You Know I’m No Good”.  I studied Spanish while he worked. Nonetheless, I don’t care what country I visit. I doubt I will every get use to other people working.  

I suppose I don’t feel like I’m in a foreign country. Of course, the bathroom remains a bit of a reminder, but for the most part with my computer, a stolen wireless connection, and my books I feel at home in Peru. At least, until I speak. 

My first week and a half has been rather difficult here. I’ve had a bad cough and infrequent Internet. With that said, now I can talk about what I miss about America: 

1. The Bathroom

-You cannot flush toilet paper down the toilet. I have learned this the hard way very early in the morning when I have forgotten I am in Peru.

-Hot Showers: Not easy to find. Due to the price of heating water and the fact that Peru has a warm climate, hot showers are not a guarantee. When the winter nights reach 60 F, a cold shower isn’t exactly a comfortable when to relax into bed. 

2. Heat, in General

-The low here in the coldest winter night is only around 50 F, but no buildings in Peru have heat. It’s fairly difficult to sleep if you unprepared for cold nights. I wear two thick shirts, alpaca socks, pants and sleep with my head underneath the sheets. This usually keeps me warm.

Now what I love about Peru:

1. The Food. The Food. The Food. 

Always fresh. However, if you are a vegetarian (assuming you eat fish) the inner lands will be difficult for you. Lima, a costal city, has plenty of seafood to choose from at most restaurants unless you go to a “Pollo a La Brasa” . These are  rotisserie chicken houses found nearly at every corner for fairly cheap. Typically Peruvian food has a lot of wonderful, grilled meat. Most places (with some tourism) will have some sort of alternative, vegetarian food or you can always settle for some potato dish and vegetables at most places. 

The price of food is also something to brag about. A decent breakfast only cost about 2-4 soles ($.67-$1.34) A “menú” lunch is usually a large soup and the choice of three different lunches. This usually cost between 4-6 soles ($1.34-$2.01). And finally, a fancy dinner usually includes soup, sometimes salad, a main dish and glass of wine cost about 14 soles (4.69).  

2. Alpaca Socks

So for about 60 soles ($20.10), I bought: alpaca socks, alpaca slippers, a pair of woven pj bottoms, and three unnamed gifts. Sweet. 

Okay, I know this isn’t very interesting. In short, I love the food and things here are dirt cheap compared to pricey, Chicago.  Since, I’ve been almost bedridden with a cough since I’ve arrived to Arequipa (June 24th), I’m not entirely too interesting. But please stay tuned. . .