Lima is the big city. I've never lived in the city before, and many times during my first week, I missed the smell of Iowa night air and running the gravel roads in the oceans of corn. More often than not, the view of the Lima mountains is hazy with humidity and splashed with grey from a dab of pollution. There are mountains though, and the colors of the trees, flowers, and houses enliven the scene. Before, I just tried not to breathe too deeply.
However, something changed this week. From Monday through Thursday, I rode the bus from my room in Miraflores district into La Molina to CIP (El Centro Internacional de la Papa). The first day at the bus stop, I arrived 30 minutes early for the bus. This amount of time allowed one passerby to consider it worth his time to ask me on a date for breakfast. I couldn't understand all of what he said to me, but I what I caught was that if I went out with him we would have the best time. Even after I boarded the bus, he was in the neighboring bus attempting to catch my attention. Unlike the week before, this didn't phase me too badly. Instead, my instinctual reaction was, isn't it a little early on a Monday morning? A week later, it is humorous. Being blonde here is like being a model, and I say this in the most factual way. At first, this was the worst thing for me about living in Peru. At restaurants, Rocio, Nataly, and I can get the quickest and most attentive service, and when we went out on Friday, there a steady supply of young men willing to dance even though I'd never properly danced salsa in my life. First people stared because I was blonde; then people stared when I mimicked the dance style of my friends.
Upon returning to my dormitory at CIP, I had first opportunity in a week to run. I left my room for the run I had looked forward to for a week. I ran through CIP to La Agraria, the agricultural university across the street. Unlike the last time I ran, I really breathed. I smelled the food from the university street vendors, the smell of the bus I ran behind, tasted the dirt on my teeth, and really explored the (what I estimate to be) 100 hectares of campus and agricultural trial fields. Behind the fields, I ran my first time, I found hectares of hidden citrus orchard. I ran up rows of citrus, and in the far corner of the campus, I found my favorite view. Here the mountains of Lima reclined in the sky, and rows of citrus trees with just ripening and brilliant fruits stretched below. The sun was setting, powdering the distance pink and grey. Momentarily, I stopped running to freeze this scene in my mind.
When I returned, I rearranged my room, placing the bed in the corner of the room. More room for activities! After showering, I got to work on another task I had never attempted before: washing three weeks of laundry by hand. Contently, I made myself dinner and hung my clothes, which would take several days to dry. With my things in order, I reflected on my run and my accomplishments. On Friday I would have the first of the reoccurring thought, I can't believe there are only six weeks left...
Tonight I looked back on my photos from Cusco, Valle del Colca, and Machu Picchu. Juxtaposed with Lima, the natural beauty emphasizes a different beauty in Lima: the contrast between natural and human civilization. Fortuitous describes the timing of the journey to Cusco and Arequipa before settling in Lima. Removed by time from the transplant shock, I appreciate the calm, agriculture, and beauty I saw high in the mountains. Lima retains bits of this. Never before have I seen agricultural fields inside a honking, sounding city like I do here at La Agraria and CIP. When I loose myself in the fields, I see Lima, Costa Rica, Sweden, Iowa... holocene.
Another great post! Thanks again for sharing your experiences with us.
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