The moral of the story: You need a llama in order to return your library book on time.

On top of that, I also have a respiratory infection probably due to my normal allergies, magnified by traveling to a foreign location.  

In short, I feel fairly useless.

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. 

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. . .

More than 100 bodies (including children) were found in Putis, Peru from the Fujimori regime. 

Okay, here’s the comic summary. Peruvians want to claim the potato started in their garden, but Chileans think it started in their posh land. And uh, in the backdrop, Bolivia starts yelling, “No! NO! It started in MINE!” 

 Too bad Gael García Bernal doesn’t come with the book. 

2. The Lazarus Project by Aleksandar Hemon

Yeah, I know. I have a lit crush on him. What do you expect?

3. Mischiefs of the Bad Girl (Travesuras de la niña mala) by Mario Vargas Llosa

 I picked it because I liked the title and Llosa was born in Arequipa. Simple. as. that. Thanks Oscar!

4. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz 

Terry Gross’ Interview with Diaz

I first heard about this book on NPR.  Gross interviewed Diaz last October and he seemed to be a good story teller with a dorky sense of humor. And Leah recommended it. I think I trust both Terry and Leah.

5. A travel/history book about Peru (To be determined)

6. Spanish dictionary and grammar book plus 501 Spanish Verbs 

An unknown tribe was found in the Amazon on the border of Peru and Brazil. Unlike Brazil, Peru does not have an association to help indigenous tribes. In this article, they debate whether or not it’s moral meet with these “uncontacted tribes”. However, if you look at the angle of the photographs, they had to be taken from a helicopter (or some other aircraft), and if you look closely you can see the “uncontacted tribe” pointing their bows and arrows toward the sky, most likely aiming at the aircraft. From an ethical standpoint, you have to evaluate whether or not this”uncontacted tribe” is really “uncontacted” after encountering modern-day aircraft. Now the tribe has seen aircraft, how do you begin to explain aircraft to people who live in the jungle? Additionally, the article also explains many people from a “uncontacted tribe” died of disease after outside contact. Also, do you have to contact the tribe in order to protect them? 

For the second night in a row, I’ve had the same dream. I’m at the airport in Perú and suddenly I realize I don’t have my passport on me. I start to explain my situation to a woman, an employee of the airline, and she replies back in a language I can’t understand. I try to speak Spanish again. Then she speaks another language. I try to speak English and she finally replies back in Spanish. Suddenly, two policemen arrest me. And then, the dream uneventfully ends. 

This is my first time leaving the country and probably the reason I’m having strange dreams. 

In my life, I’ve only visited a handful of places in the United States: Cincinnati, Columbus, Dayton, and Pittsburgh….

And once, my roommate and I decided to drive from Chicago to Austin, Texas to see my friend. Then my friend, my roommate, and I decided to drive to Big Bend National Park, located on the border of Texas and Mexico. MY BIG AMERICAN ADVENTURE! ….Of course, an American adventure would not be complete without an uncomfortable stop at Border Patrol, where my Lithuanian roommate was questioned about her current visa status. The Border Patrolman’s first name was J.P. He seemed like a pretty cool guy. As he used his super, American computer to check my roommate’s visa status, he told us about how he wanted to grow up to play guitar professionally. Don’t we all want to grow up to be a different person? Even the border patrol guy? Well, this story also has a dull ending. Eventually, JP confirmed my roommate’s visa status and he let us go.  

Nonetheless, I’ve always dreamed about traveling outside the country. While at Big Bend National Park, I saw the Rio Grande, the lanky river separating Mexico and the United States. For some reason, I always imagined Mexico to look vastly different than United States, especially at the border. In truth, they look the same. Mexico disappointedly looks like the United States and the United States disappointedly looks like Mexico. Our differences we know, we can count them on our hands and feet, but it’s our similarities that always surprise us.