Lima. Beans.

The first and last days in Lima were the longest. My mother and I walked all over the city, rode multiple buses, covered kilometers, and yet still didn't manage to see the entire metropolis. We did, however, see over most people's heads. Here is the most striking thing about Peruvians: aside from being polite, charming and in possession of beautiful hair, they are, with very few exceptions, irretrievably short. In fact, according to impeccable sources (wikipedia), the average Peruvian man is around 5 foot 3 and the average woman is 4 foot 9. As a result, it was entirely possible to see the zoo animals and the parade floats over crowds of heads and without straining. It was also, unfortunately, virtually impossible to stand upright in the minibuses and, had I been faced with some sort of emergency situation which required the purchase of new pants, this would have led to abject failure.

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On our first day in Peru my mother and I recuperated from our lengthy and exhausting trip south by walking all over downtown Lima for ten million hours without taking a nap. Along the way, we visited various Important Cultural Landmarks, such as the statue of mother Peru displayed in Plaza San Martin. According to the impeccable sources in our guidebook, the original intention for this statue was for her head to be adorned with a crown of flames. Somewhere along the way, however, somebody confused the word for flames ("llamas") with the word for llama ("llama") and the woman now proudly displays a seated and fuzzy mammal atop her noggin.


At the monastery and crypt of San Francisco, we participated in a tour that was entirely in Spanish. I was very proud of my understanding of several sentences, often in a row, and did my best to translate. Among the important facts I imparted: in a painting of the last supper within the building, the dog was meant to symbolize fidelity. The organ was powered by a monk riding a bicycle-like contraption. There are a great many bones in the crypt, and some of them are arranged in charming, circular patterns (that last one was obvious without translation but nonetheless impressive).



We ended our first day with dinner at one of Peru's many vegetarian restaurants. In fact, every city we visited had several veggie friendly establishments, and only some of them were dedicated to whatever deity it is Hare Krishnah devotees adore. Many of the restaurants posted clippings and posters meant to convince people that the vegetarian lifestyle is superior to all other behaviors including but not limited to charity work and the presidency; some even promoted vegetarian websites. Although the people already dining in a vegetarian restaurant are presumably in possession of at least a peripheral knowledge of the advantages of vegetables, it was interesting to see that there is something of a meat-eater-shaming movement blossoming outside of Berkeley, and a steady supply of fake meats making its way into Peru. Not quite so interesting: Inca Kola, which I sampled the first night and never again. Why on earth a cola would be the chartreuse is a mystery to me. Also, why isn't "Inca" spelled with a "k"?



During the last two days of our trip, we visited the tourist-centric areas of Lima which abut the Pacific ocean. Barranco is a charming hamlet-type place with colonial mansions and an artsy looking flare - definitely where we would chose to live in the city were it not for the aforementioned pants procurement problems.

Miraflores is the tourist eden wherein important sites such as the Marriott hotel and the shopping mall face (but do not touch) the beach and where the Starbucks stocks delicious soymilk. It was near Starbucks, at John F. Kennedy Park, that my mother purchased a beatiful painting from the below artist. He was deaf and dumb and so bargained with us with the help of an official-looking assistant type and copious hand gestures.


We then marched westward in search of the elusive beach. The ocean was easy enough to find, but the beach is separated from the city by huge cliffs and we spotted only one, rather rickety stone road down to the shore. After walking this way and that in search of a better option (elevator, escalator, hang-glider), we learned from the mall's convenient tourist booth that the "only way" to reach the beach is to "take a cab."

Not to be discouraged, we grabbed a bus to nearby and far more hospitiable Barranco where a still steep but less rickety pathway brought us to the elusive ocean shore. There is no sand there, only pebbles, rocks and surfers.


The next day we took a taxi, of all things, to visit the Lima zoo. We were not alone in this endeavor. In fact, by the time we left the zoo was jam packed with Peruvian families and a great many food vendors with and without lion costumes. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to pet any of the adorable jaguars and lions. In fact, if a guest so much as places his baby upon the top of the dividing wall the security forces close in and begin to blow their whistles in a menacing manner. It's too bad; the jaguars were pretty darn adorable.


Lima has only the one, knobbly-headed giraffe, but there are many many monkeys, llamas and alpacas. In fact, the concentration of resources and attention appears to be upon animals indegenous to Peru. There are four whole sections dedicated to the various ecosystems (jungle, coast, etc), and only one area for "foreign" animals. The Peruvian sections were also by far the most crowded.





When we left the zoo there was still half the day and the entire night left to explore the city, but nothing particularly drew our attention. After two failed bus rides (the bus attendant seemed to agree that the bus was headed where we wanted it to do until we asked him again and he realized that he was a big fat liar) and two successful ones, we returned to Miraflores fully intending to sit in the park and stare at our shoes. Instead we found the area packed with almost every person in Peru, several tons of confetti and generously decorated floats. This was the independence day parade, although independence day is technically July 28th. It turns out that the original parade was postponed due to fear of the H1N1 epidemic, so the replacement parade was performed on September 6th. We arrived at around 4 and the endless display of patriotism and midriffs lasted until 8, at which point there was a massive and ear-shattering fireworks show.



And the, in a miracle worthy of a chapel all its own, we managed to fit our giant selves onto a minibus, along with about forty other lucky souls, and we made it home in time to spend the night vomiting due to food poisioning before heading back to the airport and northwards once again. Not the best nightcap for a lovely trip, but at least I didn't have to buy any new pants.