May 22, 2015

Miraflores near Lima – Wow! What a day. Came back last night with 123 photos. So much happened that I’ll probably have to do this in installments. With lots of pictures!

We set out for Miraflores, a trendy and hip district not too far from our humble lodgings and easily accessible by metro. Waiting for the bus, I’m constantly seeing people hauling things from one place to another. What they’re carrying and how they’re carrying it is always a surprise. 

Getting to Miraflores was a snap. From there we decided to head toward the coast and check out some of the lovely and famous parks Miraflores is known for. The distinctive nature of this district was immediately apparent in the people we were passing on the street. Miraflores is very cosmopolitan with lots of extranjeros like me visiting and staying in the area. The shops are upscale and expensive. The streets everywhere in Lima have been exceptionally clean, but in Miraflores they’re even cleaner, more recently maintained and much more modern.

Our first park was an eye opener. Right away we began seeing cats. Lots of cats. Everywhere. The story is that this park was once overrun by mice. In desperation the people of the community brought in cats to keep the mouse population down. The cats flourished, and the mice were accordingly dispatched. In gratitude to the cats the city now keeps the park as a cat sanctuary and feeds them daily. (I’m not making this up). They’re all quite friendly, though they flagrantly disregard the signs posted to protect the lawn and the flowers.

Amidst the cats was this colorful statue of un toro. That fellow in back?

He’s cleaning the butt. Really, Pablo and I have seen tons of city employees whose job it is to keep the city clean. And they do a good job.







Plus we saw more cats. And this dog, carefully leashed, but ready for action in case anyone wanted to let him loose.
Doubtless he came from the hostel immediately across the street from the park.

Also across the street was La Iglesia de Nuestra Senora deMilagro.

Beautiful inside as well as out, with a photogenic stairway to the balcony.

Walking further down the street, Pablo and I saw the sign we’ve been looking for ever since we arrived in Peru.

It wasn’t a hot day, but any day is a good day for ice cream. Pablo got lucuma, the same flavor as that torte I described a few days ago. I got a really nice dark chocolate. They were delicious and helped sustain us through what turned out to be a long walk before we came to more sustenance.

Casinos can be found the world over and Peru is no exception. Here I am, finishing my ice cream in front one named “Mardigras”. Peru being a catholic country traditionally there are plenty of carnival traditions. I’m not certain about the casino connection.

It wasn’t long before we made the coast. It was a great view from where we were, atop the cliffs, but we had a jones to make it down to the shoreline itself, a somewhat lengthy and complicated prospect.

A busy highway runs between the bottom of the cliff and the sea. And then there’s getting down the cliff itself.









Our path took us by some lovely bright colors which contrasted nicely with the general atmosphere of grey.

We found banana vendors, something you don’t see back in Sarona, on the path, along with other vendors and exercise stations, as well as an outfit providing ultra-light rides for those with the plato to burn. Pablo and I were traveling light, money-wise, so shook off the plane ride and continued our trek for El Parque del Amor where, allegedly, our path to the beach lay.

 

Aside from sporting a very romantic (and huge) sculpture, this famous park has a wall filled with mosaics and poetic dichos,

 “Love is a butterfly that wanders at night.”

“You are atop the infinite sea.”

 And then, thankfully, another much sought after sign.

Bathrooms in Peru, like in much of the world outside the United States are frequently “Pay Potties.” I remember a time when you could find pay toilets in the United a tradition I think we’re well rid of. These toilets were “no charge.” A welcome surprise.

We overshot our road to the shore and ended up at the lighthouse, no longer working.

So we turned around and headed back. After asking directions several times we finally managed to make our way down to the beach. I got a chance to get my feet wet in the South Pacific. And we watched the surfers do their stuff. Surf lessons were nearly as expensive as the ultra-light.

Pablo and I were content to watch. Hunger began to catch up with us though, and the way up looked more intimidating than the way down. There was nothing to do but tighten our belts and head back up.

Eventually we made it back up and over towards Kennedy Park, stopping for a quick bite in one of the many, many eateries along the streets circumscribing the park. Kennedy Park is, unsurprisingly, named after the iconic President and located near the park we first encountered and filled with…

Yep. More cats. Really the pictures don’t do justice to the sheer density of the felines. I’m familiar with the phrase “herding cats,” but Peru is the first country I know of to do so successfully.

Across from Kennedy Park we found a café where we could buzz up and get some tiramisu, the national dish of me. Said café was also the home of barista, Sara Hughes.

Surely you’ve heard of her? She apparently had the day off so we weren’t able to get photos with her.

That pretty much wrapped up the Miraflores part of our trip. Next it's off to downtown Lima where, so Scott has told me, there's a really spectacular Light and Water show.

May 21, 2015

Chorillos, near Lima – Today I had four programs at Colegio St.Ignacio de Recalde, working with 3^rd and 4^th graders. We arrived at the school in plenty of time so we hung out in the office for a while

and got to check out some publicity they were putting up for an upcoming conference on parenting. The world needs a conference that can put the Lice back in Licensing.

 

Also got a look at the publicity they put together for me and Jaime (a Canadian Storyteller who is coming at the end of the week). They did a nice job. There’s a little touch of Moomintroll/Dr. Seuss to it I think.

 The level of English at St. Ignacio de Ricalde was lower than I’ve encountered so far in Peru, and it was hard work throughout the day. The toughest day so far. I’ll be back at this school next Tuesday for another half day of work.

On the way home we continued to see the ingenious ways people come up with to earn a sol or two. This mechanical man must have been boiling – it was only 72, but in the sun it felt much warmer. Still, he put on a pretty good stoplight show.

Back at our apartment, Pablo and I decided to walk to a restaurant in Chorillos that one of the other tour managers had recommended: Sonia.

It was a lovely walk, taking us through a neighborhood I didn’t know existed. Within 15 minutes I could see the sea.

I hadn’t realized how close to the ocean we were. There was a nice view of some boats and even some swimmers and a good look at the Lima coast line as well. When I was in Chile I made appoint of taking a dip on the shores of Antofagasta. I may try to get myself into the South Pacific again before I leave Peru.

On the way we got a good look at a bird that Pablo thought was a “cardenal”. It was red alright, but not like any of our cardinals. Pablo looked it up on the internet and came up with “un colibri negro.” It looks a bit like a Brazilian Tanager. The range isn't right but I can't figure out what else it could be.

 I was also able to get a shot of what Pablo calls una bumbona. They’re very much like our mourning doves, except they have a distinct two tone call, mimicking the first two tones of a major scale. I hear them every morning when I wake up at our apartment.

Sonia’s is about a block off the ocean overlook, down a quaint, but non-descript little calle. We were looking for a sign for the restaurant, but all we saw was this lovely floral arrangement hanging over a wall.

Turns out that marked the entrance to the restaurant. You have to knock at an unadorned wooden door. A man opens it up, checks you out, and then you can come in. I was glad we made the cut. We were hungry.

Inside it is all Peruvian charm. The food is relatively expensive, but quite good and very Peruvian. It presented very well.

One of the mourning doves
decided to join us during the meal.

Leaving the restaurant we noticed the boat immediately outside. I’m not sure how we missed it going in. Too busy looking for some sign of the restaurant, I guess. 

We headed back, passing some “street artists” painting the power poles.

Near a play park, Pablo enticed a young lad in a quick game of soccer in the street, one of the most insane places to engage in fútbol that I can think of. The American Cup is coming up and Pablo is keen to see Argentina beat Brazil.

As we were walking down the street to our apart-ment  we noticed an inte-resting shrub. We weren’t sure whether the calculator was ripe so we didn’t pick it. But I’m keeping my eye open for more in the days to come. 

May 20, 2015

Chorillos, near Lima - Today was divided between two schools. This morning we were at Newton College, a very blue chip school even further away than El Colegio Peruano Britanico. Traffic was predictably horrible. Again. Did I mention that the access road into our neighborhood is two way traffic? I mean, two way traffic in every lane. Or that corner gas stations are routinely used as thoroughfares? Or that “La Mano de Dios” is actually the name of one of the taxi companies? Basta.

 We barely squeaked into Newton on time only to find that our contact teacher was absent due to a death in the family. It’s always a little disconcerting when even the secretaries are unclear about what’s happening. But they were on top of finding out. They put their heads together and were addressing the problem in no time. After everything got sorted we were escorted to the auditorium where students were even then filing in. It was at this point I was introduced to Rowan, one of the teachers at the school. I mentioned to him that he shared a name with my daughter and he seemed surprised. But my performance was waiting so we put off further discussion for later.

But then the earthquake alarm went off. Not a drill, mind you. This was an alarm triggered by a living, trembling earthquake. A common occurrence along the Andes. One of the teachers turned to me and said, "Welcome to Peru." Those of us in the auditorium never felt anything, but other folks in the school building had. The routine was much like a fire drill back home. All of the students in the school filed out and gathered in the playing fields. That all seems fine if the buildings are still standing. But I couldn't help but wonder if this was a practical plan when the big one comes.

We all hung around outside for a bit while teachers did a head count. I’m not sure what exactly constitutes an “all clear,” but at some point everyone decided it was OK to head back in. So we did, and I was able to get my first two programs of the day delivered with creditable aplomb. Further conversation with Rowan revealed that his name was actually Rohan, as in “Riders of…” But I took his picture anyway.

My next two programs weren’t until 3:00 pm, so Pablo and I headed home, made some pasta for lunch and took a rest. On our way to the afternoon programs at El Colegio Franco Peruano we passed some interesting topiary, an elephant and an eagle?

It looked like a duck to me.





El ColegioFranco Peruano is a bilingual school, but it’s bilingual in Spanish and French. English is an elective. For a while Pablo (who lived in France for a while) and I were conversing in all three languages with a few of the teachers, often times changing languages mid sentence. I love that kind of stuff.

El Colegio Franco Peruano, reportedly is the school for the kids of the senators and representatives of government here in Lima.  I was a little worried about these kids’ English abilities, since it wasn’t an immersion or even bilingual English school. Plus, they were older,

and it’s always harder to do age appropriate programs with kids whose language skills are limited. But these kids did really well and the teachers seemed very happy with the results.

May 19, 2015

Chorillos, near Lima – Today was my first day of work in Peru. I was doing stories and music at El Colegio Peruano Britanico working with second through 5^th grade. The school is way on the other side of Lima and traffic was horrible. On other blog entries from past trips I’ve spent some time describing cab rides. Still, each trip abroad seems to add more depth and character to the transportation insanity I willingly engage in every day.  The most stressful moments I spend on these tours are the ones riding cabs from one place to another. I should just close my eyes but I guess I’d rather see my death coming than be surprised by it. On one of our taxi rides I noticed a taxi with the words “La Mano de Dios” printed on the back tailgate.  I can’t imagine a more apt slogan. The rules of the road in Lima could easily fit on a business card. Lane lines? Stop signs? I’m not sure why the city wastes the money putting them in place. If you are approaching a corner in the right hand lane you need to be aware that people in the left hand lanes will be making right turns in front of you.  That is, of course, unless you are able to make a left hand turn first. For all of that I have yet to see an accident. But  I don’t think that all of the chaos makes for faster traffic. I asked our cabby and he told me he replaces the brakes every three months.

The programs went really well.  I was working at the same place all day. My last two tours were marked by tough first days so I was glad to get into the swing of things early here. It was all the more satisfying for succeeding in a gym, my least favorite venue to perform in. Microphones almost never work in gyms. In fact, microphones are almost always a bad option anywhere on these tours. After I gave up on them things went even better.

Likewise, my Spanish seems to be settling in fast. I’ve already started thinking in Castellano (as they say here) and I’ve had negligible mental fatigue, though after the programs this morning I definitely had an energy let down.

Pablo and I decided to try for Thai food for lunch. Eating at foreign restaurants is always an interesting insight into the host country. I’m sure that U. S. Thai food is nothing like the Thai food you would find in Thailand. Peruvian Thai food was nothing like what you would find in the U. S. The restaurant was disappointing. We went to it, as my friend Bob Waggoner would say, twice: the first and last time.

Afterwards we visited some of the more excessively touristy traps to be found in the Mira Flores area. A chess game had just finished in the middle of one of the mercados. Looked

like a case of resignation after the loss of a queen to me. Nearby, some women invited us to start another game.  It was tempting, but we declined.

I’ve been hearing lots about Peruvian cuisine ever since I started telling people I was coming here. Once we got home I checked on line for some recommended restaurants and we stumbled on Mavery’s, a rustic looking eatery I n the Mira Flores region just north from where we’re staying. Once we found out there was live music there, Pablo and I were sold on going. But getting there was a bit of a trial. Taxis didn’t want to take us because of the traffic. Getting there by bus seemed impossible. We ended up taking a bus to Mira Flores and managed to talk a taxista into giving us a ride to the restaurant. Yay. More taxi rides. On the way we crossed over a plaza with a see through floor. 

The food at Mavery's was really good as it turns out. Delicious empanadas with vegetarian options! And a Lucuma tort to die for. The musician was OK. Great guitar player, solid voice. Latin American Pop repertoire. Next door to the restaurant was the place everyone in the world has been looking for.

I already have mine, so we decided to head for home.

May 18, 2015 Evening

Chorillos, near Lima – Today was a day to recover from travel. WE made a stab at sleeping in, but by 8:30 we were already making plans to explore the historic downtown center of Lima. A major bus station is a short walk from our apartment. There are the usual intriguing ironies to be found:

 

McDonald's is ubiquitous

Manikins find multiple uses

Every country has its own unique forms of transportation. Peru is no exception. Taxi motos are fairly common. I’m not sure I’ll have the cojones to actually take one, but they’re fun to see.

 The bus ride to downtown is long. We’re lodged in a suburb well to the south of Lima proper so it’s a trek to get to the city. Still the buses can use lanes of traffic reserved exclusively for them, so we sail right by the traffic snarls which, while considerable, are still much less snarly that the ones I’ve seen in other metropolitan areas, Particularly Mexico City and Tai Pei. I’m struck also by how clean Lima seems to be, with none of the garbage that I’ve seen in the streets of some other Latin American urban centers.

Street artists and vendors seem to be ubiquitous in every cityscape, but I must admit the guy with the bathroom scale had an angle I’d not seen before.  For only a few soles (Peru’s currency) you could weigh yourself on his scale and be reminded (in front of God and everyone) just how far off the fitness wagon you’ve fallen. There didn’t seem to be a line.

In Lima we found a spiffy little café with terrific juevos and café Americano that was just right. Then we set off to find a hostel for Scott, who wants to hang in Lima proper for maybe one more day, visiting museums (all closed on Mondays) while I’m working tomorrow, and then take off on his own to explore some of the rest of the country.

On the way we pass plenty of likely looking museums and some really great architecture,

the old juxtaposed with the new.














We also see quite a few signs indicating maximum people capacity like this:

This:

And, intriguingly, this:

Aforo was a new word for me and even for Pablo. One wonders who is going to do the counting.

We found Scott’s new digs right across from yet another closed art museum, which had a big banner filled with celebs

We figure that’s Einstein playing the violin, Steve Jobs on guitar, Lady Di twinkling her toes, and Pope Francis thespianizing. But we couldn’t place the painter. Ideas anyone? And while I’m thinking about it, did everyone see the face in the revolved Machu Picchu image? It’s facing to the left. Go on, scroll back and look. I’ll wait.

After checking Scott in,

we took a quick walk in the park (trees everywhere are victims of heedlessly expressive lovers) and repaired to a local eatery we heard about at the hostel. Kasa Mama’s (yeah, that’s casa with a ‘K’) was the perfect place for a first encounter with authentic Peruvian dining amongst authentic Peruvians with authentic Peruvian music scoring meal. 21 soles gets you all you can eat of a variety of local potatoes (the purple kind, the yellow kind, pick your color), cebiche (a Peruvian classic, made of raw fish cured in lemon and lime juices and mixed with onions and other veggies. Think Norwegian lutefisk or Jewish gefilte fish, except the Peruvians got it righy. It’s my new favorite!) Arroz (of course!) and a variety of meat dishes, which I didn’t explore but which, Pablo assures me, were delicious.

 Then it was time to visit the museum and catacombs at the Monastery of San Francisco. The one place which was not closed. Photos and videos were not allowed inside, which is a pity because it is an amazing place. For one thing, it’s huge. They kept taking us from one room to another, each one filled with amazing religious art – carvings,  paintings, frescoes, fiber art – and much of it quite dark. Martyrs that had been decapitated, Saints with missing hands and, of course, many depictions of the death of Jesus. Given the treatment that Native Americans were meted out during the holy inquisition, those early American Christians might have benefited from spending more time exploring the way Jesus lived his life and less dwelling on Jesus’ gruesome torture and death.

But enough, it was time to visit the catacombs, one of the most weirdly notable legacies of San Francisco’s time at this monastery. Before and during his tenure plenty of people had died and been laid to rest in the catacombs underneath the monastery. At some point this began to produce a less than pleasant redolence which was distracting to spiritual inquiry. Plus they began to run out of room. So the resourceful monks, under the direction of the aforementioned San Francisco, took it upon themselves to clean and condense the corpses. The organizational styles range from the practical: one pit for the femurs, one for the ulnas, one for the skulls… you get the idea; to the decorative: craniums in the middle, radiating tibias circling them, more skulls, radiating ulnas, etc.

There are many, many pits, each of them many meters deep, all filled with bones. Amongst some of the bones visitors have tossed coins hoping the dead will feel inclined to reward their largesse by granting a wish. Combined with the morbid religious art it was a sobering couple of hours.

Outside the pigeons (a bird my dear departed mother loathed)

rejoiced in their aliveness, dotting the towers and taking occasional victory laps around the monastery courtyard. Scott, Pablo and I decided that a postre and another coffee was in order before we parted. So we left the Monastery of  San Francisco, found another café and then Scott took off to his hostel. We’ll meet again in Cusco in a week and a half.

Pablo and I spent some time settling some of Pablo’s phone issues, got some groceries for home meals and called it a full and fun dia.

May 18, 2015 Morning

Chorillos, near Lima – Scott and I arrived in Lima last night at nearly midnight. The time zone here is the same as at home so there was no jet lag, even though we briefly entertained EST in Atlanta where we changed planes.

In Minneapolis Scott had his jar of peanut butter confiscated by the TSA, but my peanut butter sandwich passed security muster. Maybe it was the raisins. It was huge so I shared it with Scott as we waited for our flight out of Minneapolis. The gate we were at was de rigueur, filled with booths sporting I-pads with internet access. While we were gobbling the gourmet goobers (with raisins!), Scott gave me a crash course in smart phonedom, a realm Karen and I are preparing to enter (howling to high heaven) shortly after my return.  We had barely finished the sandwich when the airline announced that a passenger with extreme allergies to peanuts was flying with us. Nobody was to bring any  peanuts whatsoever onto the plane. Even airborne odors would trigger the reaction. We resolved not to burp.

Otherwise travel was blessedly uneventful: lots of sitting, a plethora of movies of all stripes. (I watched “Jupiter Ascending,” a really bad movie that Rowan (hi, Rowan!) and I will have an opportunity to analyze vis a vis late twentieth century feministinfluences. Sailed through baggage claim and customs and then there was Pablo’s friendly face waiting for us. Pablo was my tour manager in Mexico and he is a total pleasure to be with. On this occasion he was accompanied by Jorge, our ride and, conveniently, the dueno of the apartment we’re staying at. Traffic in Lima on a Sunday night was worlds away from anything we experienced in Mexico City, and Jorge’s driving was a model of circumspect caution. At one stoplight we were briefly entertained by an adolescent fire juggler. He must have been cursing the light traffic. But it was just fine with us.

Our apartment is charming, located down a gated street and cheek to jowl with other apartments, palms and stucco walls. It turns out the street is populated by the families of military and police officers. Concerns any of you had about crime in our neighborhood should be allayed.

 

Inside our apartment, one cannot help but notice the picture, a rendering of Machu Picchu:

 Except that it is hanging sideways, like this:

(can you see why? Find out next blog!) 

Plus I was struck by the sofa arrangement. 

We had couches like this for years. I never liked them, and was finally able to talk Karen into passing them on just last fall, whilst we continue our marital negotiations on the settee setup we will replace them with. And now I find they are following me around the world.