La Feria Del Hogar

I'm just now getting around to writing about Jorge's and my experience at the new Feria del Hogar because I've been too busy I'm really good at procrastinating. There's been a lot of buzz, because it used to be the most beloved and exciting event of the year. Before the advent of modern shopping malls and the internet, it was the place to ooh and aah over the newest advances in technology and buy the latest housewares, as well as a place for the kids to go on carnival rides and stuff themselves full of cotton candy (presumably in that order).

Obviously, I wasn't here the first time around so I can't compare this year's version to its past iterations. But from all I've heard and read, it just doesn't compare to the original. There didn't seem to be too much excitement about it, and judging from the amount of people who were there on the day we went (a Saturday, on a holiday weekend), I don't think there will be a repeat event next year.

It just wouldn't be a festival without smoked pork.

The Feria was organized into large tents, with the concert space at the back and the carnival rides in the middle. There was art, clothing, housewares, a food expo, and a couple other things, but most of it was the same sort of stuff that you can find at other festivals or around town. The art was nice, but the clothes and jewelry were for the most part cheaply made and widely available in Lima; in other words, nothing special. The food tent obviously had a lot of great things, but nothing new. I got some organic chocolate and managed to resist buying a delicious raspberry liqueur.

There were a few interesting things on display, such as a mineral exhibit showing the minerals that can be found in Peru (silver and gold look pretty gnarly in their natural form). There was a nice but small display of traditional marinera dance outfits from different regions of Peru, and a short but well-done video looking back on the history of the Feria. I think most of the people there enjoyed the trip down memory lane, and for first-timers like me it was nice to have some perspective on the history.

 Traditional marinera outfit from Lima.

One of the highlights of the fair was the carnival rides. Peru has no permanent amusement parks, so any opportunity to go on rides is met with anticipation. Well, this was no Six Flags, but there were still some impressive lines and a couple of exciting rides. They say you become your mother, and if my stomach's reaction to the swirling rides is any indication, I can say that it's true. I remember when I was a kid going on all the rides at Valleyfair and swearing that I would never get motion sick when I got older. I didn't realize that "older" meant 26.  I think Jorge will be disappointed when we go to an amusement park and I have to wait for him from the sidelines.

 These guys had it in for me.

The crown jewel of the Feria, and perhaps the one thing that made it solvent, was the music. There was a great lineup of Peruvian and international artists, such as the British band James and salsa superstar Ruben Blades. We saw the Peruvian cumbia groups Los Destellos and Los Mirlos. There weren't many people there, even though so-called chicha music (the name for the unique mixture of Peruvian traditional influences and the cumbia rhythm) is very popular. However, the headlining artists attracted much larger crowds.

It's probably a good thing they're musicians and not fashion designers.

Then there was the food, which was a head-scratcher. There were rows upon rows of restaurants and booths, hundreds of chairs, and almost no customers in sight. The prices were steep and the offerings mediocre, especially with Mistura just around the corner. I had a pretty good paella, but it cost twice what it should have.

Overall, I was pretty underwhelmed. It was a fun way to spend an afternoon, but nothing out of the ordinary, and Lima has a lot of events and ferias. It would be a shame if the Feria's grand reopening closed after just one year, but I can't say I'd miss it too much.

Peruvian Independence Day!

Today is Peruvian Independence Day. On July 28th, 1821, José de San Martín declared independence from Spain, and ever since then Peru has had a proud but turbulent history. Unfortunately for Limeños, Independence Day falls in the middle of winter, which means gray, wet, and cold weather, hardly an inspiring backdrop for patriotic speeches. Too bad San Martín couldn't have won a couple months earlier or a couple months later.

 Military parade against the gray July skies

Today, the president gives his State of the Union address to talk about the achievements of the past year and planned programs and improvements in the coming year. So far, president Ollanta Humala has made some lofty promises, such as educational reforms and increased investment in education and teacher training, health care coverage for all Peruvians and complete pre-and post-natal coverage for mothers and children, increased efforts to eradicate corruption within the government and police force, and measures to reduce poverty. The promised changes seem very positive, but the sheer scope of his promises seem to set him up to fail. In my opinion, it would have been more prudent to promise less and deliver more, but politicians will be politicians.

I want to believe that positive change is coming for Peru, yet it is hard to be optimistic in light of the corruption and ineptitude of the government in the past three years of this administration, and previous administrations before this. The best ideas aren't worth the paper they are written on if they aren't carried out well. So far, the Peruvian people also seem skeptical of these promises, inspiring tweets such as, "I wish I lived in Ollanta's Peru."

But enough of politics, let's get patriotic! Fiestas Patrias is a time to celebrate what Peru has to offer, and it has much to offer. Aside from its delicious food and famous pisco sours, Peru has a wealth of traditions and cultures that other countries lack. Every region has its own dress, its own music, its own traditions that go back generations. I love the textiles and handicrafts and will never get tired of browsing the markets for pretty things, or watching the Afro-Peruvian dances or the marinera. There is an endless list of things to appreciate about this country, and today I'm proud to say I live here.

The lively and colorful danzas afro

Unfortunately, Jorge can't drink right now (doctor's orders) so he won't be able to join me in raising a glass of Cusqueña beer or a pisco sour, but I know that his sentiments are the same. ¡Viva el Perú!

Spending Holidays Far from Home

I've always been a fan of holidays. I don't go crazy decorating or bake crafty things from Pinterest, although I'm always game for a holiday-themed cocktail. Now, I love holiday decorations, I just don't like doing it myself. I let others around me make the effort and just enjoy looking at the fruits of their labor; I'm more of a passive holiday-enjoyer. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I like holidays a regular amount. Like everyone, I enjoy the time off and the long weekends, the once-a-year culinary delights and ensuing food coma, the whole hullabaloo. And I like the memories and the family traditions.

 No flags or lakes or family cabins this year. No happy dogs running around, no burgers and s'mores, and no card games.

Which is why spending holidays in a foreign country is weird. The traditions are different. Things look different. Your family's not there. And especially when it's a strictly national holiday (like the 4th of July), you don't get to enjoy other people's decorations. We've already established that I'm too lazy to decorate myself, so this year I felt a distinct lack of red, white, and blue around me. And that made me a bit sad. As far as I could tell, the U.S. Embassy in Lima didn't host any sort of celebration for citizens, and since I don't know too many Americans here I felt my patriotic stirrings deflate at the prospect of not celebrating the 4th. 

But then, Jorge and I received an invite to celebrate with some friends. Not just any friends, but my British friend Nilma and her husband Dom! We watched the World Cup game (in Spanish) and drank British beer. Not quite the holiday traditions that I'm used to, but it was great spending time in such good company and I felt immensely cheered up. After the game, we put on some Beach Boys and had a cookout, which felt slightly more patriotic.

The hostess with Jorge and me

 

While it wasn't quite the celebration I was used to, I ended up having a great time (and great beer - try Fuller's if you haven't already). Just goes to show that while holidays living abroad will always be different, they can be just as much fun.

The Terror of La Ducha Electrica

Anyone who has traveled in South America (and not stayed exclusively in luxury hotels) has run across this delight:

Yes, the electric shower. Mixing electricity and water sounds like a great idea, right? Electric showers are ubiquitous here due to their low cost and the limited space they take up. The alternative is a water heating tank, which is expensive and requires an area to put it in, which many apartments don't have. They come with their own set of problems (such as a risk of explosion from pressure buildup if you forget to turn them off after showering), but in general are far safer than the electric showers.

Well, most people tell me that the electric showers are perfectly safe IF they are properly installed. That's a big if, considering that jack-of-all trades handymen are a dime a dozen around here. I'm glad I was more naive while I was traveling, because thinking back on all those questionable hostel showers makes me shudder, and given the state of some of the hostels in general, I would doubt that they spent a lot of money on a licensed electrician.

I was inspired to write about this topic by events that transpired this week. (Hi Mom, nothing to see here, I'm perfectly fine!) We have an electric shower, and it served us faithfully for about six months and then simply stopped heating correctly. The water would come out either just shy of lukewarm or eye-wateringly hot, and since Lima gets quite chilly we decided it was time to remedy the situation. We bought a replacement part (something to do with the resistance and the cables that get burned out) and had someone install it. Then we tried it out. Blessedly, perfectly warm water! Oh, the joy. Until... wait, were those...? Yes, SPARKS coming out of the electric shower. So I hightailed it right out of there faster than Speedy Gonzalez. 



The solution? Well, we'll probably buy a new shower and hire a licensed electrician to install it. Although electric showers give me the creeps a little bit, millions of people use them every day and are still alive. We've been using ours for over eight months and only had this problem after the new installation. And if you're wondering what today's takeaway is, always pay the extra money for licensed professional.

One Year!

Two days ago, May 25th, marked one year of living in Peru. A year ago, I was just coming back from my backpacking adventures in Ecuador and Peru to settle down in Lima. I had a second family and a handsome Peruvian waiting for me, and I was eager to start my life here. I thought I knew Peru from my adventures, but I had no idea what the year would have in store for me. It's been a difficult road, but I can finally say that I feel at home here.

It was exciting and incredibly fun to be on the road, backpacking around, but I was really starting to miss having a home base. I wanted to nest, to buy pots and pans and cute mugs, and to unpack my things for the first time in five months. I wanted to sleep in the same bed every night. And I was very anxious to see Jorge again.

 

 I missed that smile.

Milestones

I remember how excited I was when I got my first job. In retrospect, it was a total grind and the pay sucked, but at the time I was elated. A year really gives a lot of perspective. And my first place: one room with a shared bathroom and claustrophobic entryway/kitchen space, with roommates allergic to cleaning and a car alarm constantly going off in the wee hours of the morning. But it was mine! Jorge helped me paint the walls, I bought a nice quilt, and I unpacked.

 Home sweet home with a new paint job and a new quilt!

I really struggled with homesickness and culture shock. I speak excellent Spanish, but the fact is that I will always be more able to fully express myself in English. I missed friends I could speak English with. In fact, I missed having friends: I got on well with Jorge's friends, but I hadn't really made any friends of my own. I was completely oblivious to the thriving expat culture here in Peru, and now I can't believe I didn't get involved sooner. In my desire not to be that person who only has expat friends and doesn't integrate into the culture, I isolated myself from people who could understand what it's like to be a foreigner. This year, I've made some great friends from all over the globe, and I couldn't be happier.

We've got three continents covered here. Missing from the pic: Jess to make four, and Tanya to represent Canada!

Then, Jorge and I moved in together in October. That was a first for both of us, and a big step for me. Where would we put all our stuff? What if we stepped on each others' toes (literally and figuratively, living in such close quarters)? When we finally decided to take the plunge, it was time to look for apartments, and oh what a headache that was. If money is no object, you can have your pick of modern luxury apartments, but personally I have no idea who can afford those places. The only people I know who live in that kind of apartment are government employees who don't pay their own rent. (Ahem, now you know where your taxes are going, US residents.) Otherwise, it is a long trudge through Sunday newspapers and varying degrees of disappointment. We saw a couple places that can only be described by the word 'squalor'. And they were still trying to charge $400 a month! Unbelievable. The good places that won't break the bank all get snapped up by 10 a.m., so you have to get up and get calling bright and early. Finally, after about two months of hunting, we found a small studio apartment in a great area and breathed a sigh of relief. We wake up to the sound of the birds chirping every morning, we're close to everything we need, and we can barely hear the famous Lima traffic.

One Year Later

After a year of being here, I finally feel comfortable. I can get around with ease and bargain like a Peruvian, and I know where to get a good bite to eat. I've learned so much Peruvian slang that I've forgotten the "correct" words. I love being by the ocean and never having to worry about snow. Or frost. Or ice.

There are still times when I miss Minnesota and San Francisco. Most of them involve food: ingredients I can't get here, restaurants I remember fondly, and American breakfasts at greasy spoons. I miss my friends and my family. I miss having a car, and being in a place where driving a car wouldn't scare the living daylights out of me. But at the risk of sounding sappy, I can say that Lima has slowly made a place in my heart, too, and has taken its place alongside all the others that I have called 'home'.

Point/Counterpoint: Food

Ah, food. The pleasure we take in eating goes far beyond satisfying a simple biological need: it is a social activity, a creative outlet, and it connects us to the natural world around us. But unless you are a farmer, food isn't free and it can get quite expensive. And even if you are a farmer, you can be limited by what foods grow in the local climate. In this segment, I'll take a look at all aspects of food: variety, quality, cost and shopping options, eating in restaurants, and of course taste!

Food Shopping

In the US, you buy your food at grocery stores, co-ops, or farmer's markets, or the occasional specialty market (for Chinese vegetables or authentic Mexican chilis, for example).  Among all those options, you can find pretty much any ingredient your heart desires, including imported products, organic produce, every variety of cheese (swoon), etc. And all at extremely reasonable prices. Not to mention rotisserie chicken! Believe it or not, Peru doesn't have that and I have to say I miss it. When you make a grocery run but really don't feel up to cooking that day, it is the absolute best thing.

 This platter would probably cost my whole month's salary.

Now, Peru has grocery stores, naturally. But they are expensive: they range from pricey to who can even afford this?? Even the "cheap" grocery store is expensive in my opinion. And when it comes to imported products, forget it. There are so many things I would love to buy but don't because they are just too overpriced here. I have all but given up cheese. Sour cream? Pipe dream. Peanut butter costs $8 for a medium-sized jar of mass-produced stuff. I haven't seen organic or natural chicken stock anywhere and am just about at the end of the jar I brought back from the US. Think raspberries are expensive in the states? Think again: they're twice as expensive here. And chocolate? While Peru is a major producer of both cacao and coffee beans, the finest products are all exported. Good-quality chocolate and coffee is just as expensive here as in the states, if not more so.

Now, this whole stall would cost less than half of that.

However. Peru has two things the US doesn't: local markets and corner stores. The local markets are a wonder: they have everything you need in one place, all for incredible prices. In addition to food, there are stalls with tailors, shoe repairmen, jewelers, flower sellers, pirated DVDs, and more. And the produce is something else. Some markets have more variety than others, but to give you an idea of the abundance of Peru's variety, the country is home to over 3,000 varieties of potato (you can usually find about five or so in the markets), more fruits than I can name including at least ten types of bananas and plantains, amazing chilis, the world's most delicious limes, and ancient grains like quinoa and amaranth. Whole cinnamon costs fifty cents for a handful. Old ladies sell spicy homemade sauces for similar prices.

The corner stores don't have quite as much variety, especially for fresh produce, but they have everything from toilet paper to beer to salt, and you're never more than a couple blocks from one. There are five within a five-minute walk of my apartment. It's one thing I'm going to miss terribly when I leave.

Eating Out

Lima's restaurant scene is exploding, along with international recognition. Two Peruvian restaurants were among the top twenty in the world, according to the San Pellegrino rankings that came out last month. Peru has a rich culinary tradition with many different influences, and each region has its own specialties. The quality of local ingredients and the expertise of the chefs means that at almost any restaurant you choose, the meal will be exquisite.

Ceviche from a Peruvian chef was named the tastiest dish in the world according to Chowzter.

There's no denying that Peruvian food is mouth-watering-ly delicious. However, if you eat out a lot, your pocketbook will take a hit. The average price for a good meal out is around S/.30, not including a beverage, which is around $12. It doesn't sound so bad, but considered in terms of local earnings, it's prohibitively expensive for a lot of people. And the high-end restaurants, including the two in the top twenty best restaurants in the world? They'll run you much more, so unless you're here on a fat expat package or practice law, stay away.

The other thing I miss about eating out in Lima is variety. There's one Thai restaurant in Lima, and luckily it's within walking distance! There's also one Indian place. But in general, the variety of ethnic restaurants that is so prevalent in the US simply doesn't exist here.

Oh, and I definitely can't deny that I really crave good, authentic pizza (very underwhelmed with most of the pizza here) and a good burger. What I'd kill for is a juicy burger topped with blue cheese, a side of sweet potato fries, and a kolsch.

Which brings us to...
Point: US, for variety, price point, and burgers (joking, except not really). This was a close one, but ultimately I miss being able to find specialty ingredients and being able to eat out without breaking the bank. I'm sure any Peruvians reading this will be scandalized, and I'm sure I'm going to get flak for this!

What's a Person Gotta Do to Get a Job Around Here?

I'm tired of being underemployed. I can say that far and beyond any other thing in Lima, the employment situation is the single most frustrating part for me and I'm guessing many other expats who come down without an expat package with a foreign company. It's one of the main reason expats leave: they're tired of teaching English, and they're tired of scraping by. Lima is either very cheap or very expensive depending on your employment situation. For English teachers, it's usually very expensive.

Now, having said that, I'm not starving and I have a flourishing social life. I spend more than is prudent on alcohol and eating out, although I do cook a lot, and my home is full of beautiful things. HOWEVER. I have a college degree, a teaching certification, and over three years' experience doing what I do, and I earn around $10 an hour teaching at institutes. This is pretty standard pay, although it doesn't seem to vary much with experience. Thankfully, I no longer have to schlep all over town like I used to, but institutes are not good to their teachers. There is no contract and no health insurance (I have private insurance now). According to Peruvian law, workers on contract are paid an extra salary in July and December, called gratificación. Institutes (and language departments of universities, by the way) will bend over backward to avoid paying this. It's a depressing situation.

Universities are no less exploitative, but the pay is better, and private students will pay double what you make at an institute. The dilemma with that is that you have to go all over town to their houses or businesses (see "schlepping" above).

And what if, gasp, you don't want to teach English? Well then my friend, you have got some pretty slim pickings. Most jobs for skilled workers, like engineers or geologists or technology experts, are hired from overseas. The jobs advertised locally in Peru are few for English speakers, and essentially none if you don't have a carné (residence permit). There are a few openings at the US Embassy, but I don't want to imagine the volume of resumes they receive. Full disclosure: I applied for two positions and still haven't heard back. I've got an interview on Friday for a company that hooks up qualified Peruvians (read: rich and fluent in English) for a seasonal work visa in the US. It was advertised as an "English interviewer" position, and I was thrilled at the prospect of not teaching English. Until, you guessed it, in the initial interview I was told they want to start an English program for culinary students whose English falls a bit short, and they need someone to design and teach the curriculum. So you see, it seems you just can't get away from it. :)

Point/Counterpoint: Transportation in Peru vs. the US

All the blogs I follow have been writing posts like, "Top Ten Reasons Peru is Better Than the US" or "Ten Things I Miss From Home." It's interesting and entertaining to explore the differences between Peru and the US, but I want to do a more in-depth analysis. Besides, let's spread the fun out over more than just one post. So I decided to make Point/Counterpoint, where I compare one aspect life in Peru and the US, and award a point to one country. I don't know if I'm using the phrase "Point/Counterpoint" correctly, but who cares?

Today, I want to talk about something fundamental but often overlooked in travel guides and other discussions about places: public transportation. If you don't have a car, then this can affect your everyday life in a major way.

Transportation in Peru

"Public" transportation is a misnomer, since the bus companies here are actually competing private businesses. The city of Lima only has two public transportation systems, the Metropolitano bus line and the elevated train. They both get crowded during rush hour, but otherwise they're fantastic. The problem is that they cover a very limited range. But not to worry, for wherever else you need to go, there are a multitude of vehicles to get you there. You can get virtually anywhere in the city on a bus, unlike most US cities (cough Mpls/St. Paul).

El Metropolitano. Source: La Republica

Additionally, the buses are so plentiful that if you miss your bus, another will be along in less than 10 minutes. Add the fact that fares are based on how far you're going and you don't need exact change (there is a cobrador who collects the fare), and Peru is looking pretty good.

However, there are definite downsides. Buses here have a horrific track record when it comes to safety. Just this week, there were two separate news reports of bad accidents caused by irresponsible drivers. One of them ran over a pedestrian when the driver went up on the sidewalk to pass another bus. The other incident involved a crash of two small buses that left two dead and many others injured. Both drivers had over 12,000 soles ($5000) in unpaid fines. Because the companies are privately owned, they all participate in a suicidal race to be the fastest, claiming innocent victims along the way.

Source: El Comercio

That being said, if you know which buses and companies to avoid (and watch where you're walking), I don't feel that it's a whole lot less safe than anywhere else. I never get in the small combi vans or the mid-size buses you see in the picture, instead using the big buses that are generally much safer.

Other negatives include pollution from aging buses and a lack of handicap access.

Transportation in the US

Firstly, this analysis is drawn from a limited sample size of cities, since I've only lived in the Twin Cities, Ann Arbor, and San Francisco. Although there were some differences in their transportation systems, there are some generalizations to be made.

First, because the drivers have to go through a background check and safety rules are enforced, buses in the US are much safer than in Peru. They drive the speed limit, stop for pedestrians, and generally drive defensively. Additionally, because of the ADA, handicapped people are also able to use the buses. The buses are modern and for the most part clean, and many cities are using green technology to cut down on emissions.

My old friend, the SF Muni. Source: RentCafe.com

One downside is the fixed fare. If you are only going a short ways, this is kind of unfortunate. On the other hand, transfers can save you a lot of money if you are going a long ways or are just running a short errand. You do need to have exact change though, which means I've bought many packs of gum over the years. And I don't chew gum.

The other negative of public transportation in the US is that because it is public, it has a limited budget. The government simply can't afford to service all the areas of the city, or to have a bus show up every 10 minutes. Which means that sometimes, when it's below zero and you can see your breath, you need to wait a half hour for the bus and then walk 7 blocks to your destination. In the winter, that really sucks.

Overall, despite the poor safety record and other concerns, for me convenience wins the day. Point: Peru.

Quilca Book Market

This weekend Jorge and I ventured into Lima's historic district for a shopping trip. I love going to Lima Centro because the architecture is so striking, and the pace of life is completely different from other parts of Lima. There are food carts selling all kinds of things (eat at your own risk), street vendors selling everything from playing cards to screwdrivers, and all sorts of hole-in-the-wall stores selling amazing wares. Sadly, much of the district is dirty and the buildings are in disrepair. A few years ago, the city boarded up a much-loved theater and counterculture meeting place because the structure was deemed unsound.

Old-style architecture on Quilca boulevard

 Quilca boulevard is another beloved part of downtown, home to many secondhand and "informal" book markets and antique stores. I love reading fashion magazines and had been missing my fix since coming to Peru because magazines are prohibitively expensive here. In a bookstore, a current issue of Vogue goes for S/. 30! That's more than $8 and way more than I'm willing to pay. Even Peruvian magazines go for $6 and up. But the Quilca markets have outdated and secondhand magazines for as little as $1.

These shops aren't much to look at, but they have some fascinating things for sale. I saw Bill Clinton's memoir (in English), old Spanish language versions of Life magazine, vintage Penthouse magazines, and German erotica. I wasn't exactly looking for anything racy, however, so I headed for the stacks of back issues of fashion magazines. All in all, I got four magazines and Jorge got 2, all for under $15.

In between all the secondhand book markets, there are tiny antique stalls with really eclectic offerings. There were lots of old coins, some jewelry, and whatever else they thought might sell. My favorite was this troll wearing a Cusqueña beer shirt next to the Hulk fist.  This is why I love going downtown; you never know what you'll find!

(Don't) Feed the Birds

One of my favorite things about the area I live in is that every morning, I wake up to the sound of birds singing. In Lima, finding a quiet neighborhood is really difficult, so I consider myself very lucky. There are a lot of different birds, but one of them makes quite a unique sound and it's by far my absolute favorite: The only downside to having so many birds around is that sometimes they leave you an unwanted gift. We have no dryer, so all of the drying has to be done the old-fashioned way on a line outside, and it's almost guaranteed that every time there will be at least one thing has needs to be washed again. Oh well, a small price to pay in my opinion.

Renter's Remorse

Yesterday, after three consecutive days of cancellations, the plumber finally came and installed our new toilet. This was really exciting, because we had been flushing using the ol' bucket of water method since Saturday. And, we were kind of sick of looking at our beautiful new toilet still in its cardboard stacked right in the entrance. I'd post a picture, but really, that's kind of weird.

When we moved in back in October, the apartment was a mess and the bathroom was absolutely disgusting. The previous tenant had been living there three years, and I'm pretty sure he never cleaned it even once. We changed the sink because there was just no way to get the scum off, but the toilet was out of our budget then. Now, in my opinion these things are the landlady/owner's duty (I mean, at least hire a professional to clean things for crying out loud) but we sucked it up because we had no choice.

Last Saturday when the toilet broke, she hired a plumber to come take a look. He said he could fix it, but because the toilet was old and fragile, it would probably stop working again and there was a chance he might actually break the ceramic while fixing it. We discussed putting in a new toilet and she said that she'd put up half the money. Again, I think this is her responsibility and not the renters', but we agreed because we really couldn't handle that old toilet anymore. Since we didn't have any cash, we told her to take our part out of the security deposit. She handed us some money and we went that day to buy the supplies. When we went to settle up later, she told us that all the money was from our security deposit and we had to pay for the whole thing! Including the plumber's fee. She seems like a nice old lady but that's just out of line. I was so mad you could practically see the steam coming from my ears like in the cartoons. I know this sounds petty, but I no longer feel the need to be quite such a considerate renter. I'll play my music as loud as I like and I'm going to use all the water and electricity that I feel like. Maybe we'll invite people over and have a loud party. (Actually, our place is too small for that, but it's the idea of the thing.)

Anyway, now we have a beautiful new toilet that flushes, and we also had the guy install the new light fixture that we bought. (The landlady also said she'd pay for that since hers was from the 60s and the bulbs were burnt out, but surprise! She didn't.) Most plumbers here are also electricians and general all-around handymen. We went to shut off the power so he could change it, but the landlady's daughter, who is mentally ill, came running and shrieking ready to fight us, so we had to leave it on and the man changed the fixture with live current running through the wires!

 Sometimes I think Peruvians are insane. Another example: a friend locked herself out of her apartment at 10 at night. There were no locksmiths to be found at that time, so we asked her doorman if he knew of any way to break in. Her place has a laundry room facing the courtyard, and the windows were open. The only thing: she lives on the fourth floor. So he brings up a ladder and lays it across from the balcony to the laundry room window. We all look down and swallow. The ladder barely reaches across and is incredibly unstable. She thinks about going, climbs up to the ledge, and then climbs back down. Before we can blink, the doorman climbs up, takes one step on the ladder, and launches himself into the apartment. You can bet we gave him a stiff drink after that, and also a nice tip.

A Sad Goodbye

In my last post about the school, I was very hopeful about the school year. Unfortunately, my expectations and the reality were very different, and today I had to leave my job for health reasons.

What I should have realized before accepting the job is that teaching in an institute and teaching in an elementary school are very different beasts: in an institute with adults, you can spend most of the class seated, whereas with thirty children you have to always be on your feet, demonstrating, circulating, checking. With three 90-minute classes in a day, plus recess duty and miscellaneous other fetching and running back and forth, this amounts to a lot of time standing. For an average person, this would merely be tiring, but with my history of inexplicable back problems it has proved disastrous.

As far as the job goes, I am sorry to put the school in such a difficult position, especially so soon in the school year. I feel like I have let them, and myself, down. I will miss my colleagues, especially the other teachers in my department. There are some kids that I will remember fondly, and others that I won't lose any sleep over. I feel relieved, and sad, and embarrassed, all at the same time, and more than anything I wish that things were different.

La BioFeria: the Best Farmer's Market

You know the saying, "If you want something done right, do it yourself"? I guess a variation of that would be that if you can't find what you're looking for, make it yourself. Well, that's what a ton of expats have done down here. I spent a lot of last year missing products that I couldn't find here without realizing that they were here along, right under my nose! Now there are two brewpubs in Barranco, both run by expats. There is a delicious eco-friendly bakery in Chorrillos run by a German. Yesterday I went to the BioFeria in Miraflores, a kind of farmer's market, for the first time, and it was amazing. At least half of the booths were run by expats who felt a need for certain products and decided to do it themselves. I found all varieties of herbs and spices, natural lotions and shampoo, organic coffee and chocolate, delicious pastries, even sprouted nuts and seeds. My favorite find: heirloom cherry tomatoes. I have been missing those since I left the states and was ecstatic to find them down here at last. That and the goat cheese I bought made for the best salad I've had all year. Unfortunately, I don't have photos but I'm definitely going back next Saturday so I'll take some!

(Mis)adventures in Teaching: Getting Ready for the Kids

Jorge and I had a lovely, relaxing weekend at the beach and taking in some Afro-Peruvian music, but on Monday it was nose to the grindstone as the school year gets off the ground.

As of last Friday, my contract officially started with the school. This week has been a whirlwind of theory, planning, logistics, revising curricula, finding lost documents, and meeting my colleagues. The kids come the first week of March, so we have another week and a half to prepare everything.

So far, it's been quite overwhelming. I'm teaching 3rd and 4th grade English, and I found out that I will also be the 3rd grade science teacher. That was a shock, but now I couldn't be more excited. I can't wait to do all those fun experiments with the kids! And this is their first year of science, so it will be exciting to see their enthusiasm and watch how they develop into little scientists. We're going to learn how to measure and estimate, watch how plants grow, and learn about the solar system.

However, I'm still terribly nervous about managing thirty 8-year-olds at once. On top of that, there are two "special cases" in the 3rd grade, and they are BOTH in my section! One child has a learning disability and will have a tutor, and the other has Asperger's and is prone to being disruptive in the class. Next week, we will have some meetings about these special cases and hopefully they can give me advice on how to handle them.

English Tea Party

A colleague of mine in San Francisco told me that his father lived in Germany for 20 years, but never learned German and only met other British expats. So when I arrived in Peru, I resolved not to be that person who only speaks English and hangs out with fellow Americans. But while I certainly improved my Spanish, I spent a lot of last year feeling out of place and lonely. About two weeks ago, I finally joined Internations after resisting for a long time. It was the best decision I've made in a while, because I have already met some great people.

One of those people is the wife of the Deputy Ambassador of England, and today Jorge and I were invited to their house for English tea time. The house is beautiful, and has a pool! But the highlights were definitely the Sri Lankan snacks and delicious cakes she made, as well as her beautiful baby. He's definitely a smiler!

It was a really nice afternoon, and despite some language barriers, Jorge felt really comfortable with the whole group. It's been such a relief to have an English outlet, and also to have people who understand the expat experience! I'm all for the authentic experience and hanging out with Peruvians, but I didn't realize how much I missed English.

Summertime in Lima

The months of January, February, and March are summer down here in Peru, and it's quite a welcome break from all that grey that hangs around the rest of the year (and from the extreme cold of the frozen north, which is where I was less than a month ago!). Lima is the only coastal capital in South America, and Limeños love going to the beach.

Jorge and I went last weekend for a bit, but getting there can be tricky. There's a reason the picture above is not full of people: look closely at the ground. It's full of rocks! There are sandy beaches in Lima, but the traffic to get there is awful and parking is impossible. That's manageable however; what I can't manage are the huge crowds. So we settled for our rocky bit of shore and had fun listening to the sound of the tide turning over the rocks.

Another thing that screams summer here in Peru are the ice cream vendors. They ride on little carts (and they breeze through busy roundabouts and intersections as if they had nine lives) and have a distinctive whistle that they use. Of course there were tons of them on the beach, but they are everywhere in the city and pass by the apartment at least once a day.

One thing I find charming about Peru is that many vendors will pass by, offering different services, and they each have their own distinctive whistle. Aside from the ice cream vendors, there is a guy who sharpens knives. He walks along, rolling his equipment with him and blowing his whistle, and when someone stops him to have their knives sharpened, he puts down the stand and connects the belt (it's like very rough sandpaper) and pumps the foot pedal to turn the wheel. It's an incredibly cheap and convenient service, and someday I will remember to take a video, or at least a photo.

Next week I start training for the elementary school, and I won't be able to take in the summer like I have been. But next weekend, Jorge and I are going to the beach in Paracas, four hours south of Lima, to celebrate Valentine's Day (and the anniversary of when and where we first met). I can't believe it's been a year already, but I can't wait.

Adventures in Peruvian Cooking

This week has been a very happy week for me, culinarily speaking. I found coconut milk and made a Thai red curry with ingredients smuggled from the US, I stumbled on a store that has natural goat's milk products and makes a delicious goat cheese, and discovered that craft beer has arrived in Peru after all, in the form of the Barranco Beer Company. On Sunday Jorge and I checked out the brewery for their Super Bowl party. Unfortunately, ESPN in South America switched all the commercials to local commercials! But that's what the internet is for, I guess. The beer was alright, not spectacular but a welcome change from the same old Pilsen and Cusqueña. The highlight, however, was the chili dogs. I convinced Jorge to try one, and he was hooked. I don't have a picture because we scarfed them down so fast!

They're just as serious about quantity as quality

So today, I decided to surprise him by whipping up some chili. Now, this would be a challenge for me under ordinary circumstances since I've never made chili before, but it's even more so here because it's no easy feat finding all the necessary ingredients in Peru. That means improvising! For one, there's no chili powder down here. I had most of the individual spices to make a batch of my own, but I was missing powdered garlic and cayenne pepper. Powdered garlic was easy to find at the supermarket (but the price, like the price of so many things here, made me cringe) and I bought a packet of what I thought was cayenne pepper. I have no idea what it is that I bought, but it has more of a smoky flavor and definitely no heat. Luckily, I had on hand a hot chili and so I sliced that up and dumped it in the pot with the rest of the ingredients. Problem solved. The corn down here is different, larger and not sweet, so I skipped that and added zucchini instead. Canned goods are pricey, so I skipped the black beans and just went with beef. Add some diced tomatoes, garlic and onion and voila! Dash of Italian herbs and we'll see what happens.

The finished product. Yummy!

Cooking American food, or any type of food that's not traditional Peruvian, can get expensive fast due to imported and specialty products. Ordinarily, I cook Peruvian-oriented dishes using what's fresh (and I make a mean estofado de pollo), but sometimes you just need a flavor break and a little piece of home. This week has been rather expensive, but I think it's worth it. I hope Jorge likes the chili!

Update: He liked it so much I don't know if we'll have much left for tomorrow!

Which direction is home?

On my flight back to Peru after being back in the U.S. for three weeks, I was chatting with my neighbor and mentioned that I had gone home for a visit. Then in the next sentence I said that now I was "coming home to Peru." After saying that, I stopped to think for a moment. Which direction is home? Is it "coming home," or is it "going home"?

Most everyone who moves away from the place they grew up asks themselves that question at least once, but for expats I think it's more pronounced and more nuanced. I lived in San Francisco for a year and a half, but home was always Minnesota.  When I moved there, I knew that I was going to go traveling so I never had any permanent mooring, never set down any roots. San Francisco is lovely and has great coffee and I love it dearly, but it was always just a place I was passing through, a love affair with an expiration date.

Home?

Peru is different. I came here with the intention of seeing what would happen. What happened is that I fell in love, and now I'm living with my Peruvian boyfriend. I'm about to sign a contract that'll take me through to December, and I'm filing the paperwork for my carné de extranjería, or Peruvian green card. I don't know what will happen after that time, but it's clear that I'm staying long enough to put my feet up. We're planning upgrades to the apartment (not the knock-down-the-walls kind, just some badly needed storage and aesthetic updates). And I'm finally going to do what I've been talking about for two years and buy some damn houseplants.

Home?

These are not things you do when you're planning on taking off again soon. And yet, I don't know if I'm ready to call Peru my home. There is a rightness in the word "home," a sense of fitting in.  A feeling like worn-in slippers. When you can say, I belong to this place and it belongs to me.

Minnesota belongs to me. I claim it when I hear a Bob Dylan song on the radio here and excitedly tell people that he was from my state. I claim it when I snort dismissively at other people's idea of cold. ("You don't know what real cold is! Come to Minnesota.")  Lima does not belong to me. The Spanish language does not belong to me.  But little by little, I'm laying claim to my life here.

As Austin Powers said, "Wherever you go, there you are." Maybe Peru is not my home, but I have a pretty kickass thing going for me here, and that's enough for me.