Lima

This is the hardest post to write for a few reasons.

First, writing this post means the trip is officially over for good. While we’re extremely fortunate that we were able to do it in the first place, it’s still hard to let go of that time in our lives. We loved the constant change, the bombardment of new information, constantly practicing ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ and ’very delicious, thank you.’ Strange cities became home. People who we didn’t share a common language with became our only friends. Even the chaos of airports felt completely unchaotic—we knew the drill. We could navigate airport security with our eyes closed. 

When we arrived in Lima, the first question we were asked was “Why would you come here?” Or “You’re not just passing through?” Lima is the gateway to the rest of Peru—not often seen as a destination itself. Hordes of tourists and backpackers pass through, spending just a night or so in the ritzy part of the city, on their way to Macchu Picchu or maybe the Amazon. (We precisely planned our trip to hit each destination at the ideal time and unfortunately, Macchu Picchu and Peruvian Amazon didn’t fit into our plan. Neither is a place you want to visit in the height of their rainy season.)

We came to Lima for Lima.

We stayed in a gorgeous Miraflores neighborhood. Our airbnb was basically a large, open air terrace with a little glass box for the bed and bathroom. The open air kitchen overlooking the ruins of Huaca Pucllana. Because Lima only receives about 8 days of rain a year, most every home is partially exposed to the outside world.

Ceviche at the 'famous' Chez Wong. An impromptu, reservation-only, no-menu restaurant created in Wong's former living room.

A third, but sadder reason: If your home in never finished, you don’t have to pay property taxes. In a country where most jobs are ‘informal’ jobs (selling roadside snacks, collecting tickets on the bus, hauling businesses trash away from the storefront, shining shoes, hand washing laundry, concocting Amazonian medicines and tinctures, and any other task that someone is willing to pay for…) not many can afford to pay taxes. They are true entrepreneurs. Making their own jobs. Managing their own businesses. Creating new trades. Filling demands that may or may not have existed before. They are overwhelmingly hardworking. And are given nothing in return.

We spent a few days with a guide from Haku Tours. From their own words, Haku Tours is owned by Inka descendents who seek to share the true Peruvian lifestyle with their new friends. The main purpose behind Haku Tours was to help people with less resources and better the lives of communities within Lima. We work as a non-profit organization, helping communities and the environment at the same time. All of our tours support local families from the Shanty towns of Lima city, support local transport, give jobs to families in need, and aid a variety of volunteer projects or donations, which help the communities. 

Haku looks after the families in the shanty towns. 100% of their proceeds go towards building schools, infrastructure for their hilly and often earthquaked communities, safety gates and security cameras to combat the rampant child sex trafficking from outsiders, and to bring business to local ‘informal’ vendors.

We spent time in the ‘local’ neighborhoods. Of everyone I met, their was one girl whose story was the hardest to digest. She was a student of Haku’s school, but was born with diabetes and would constantly pass out in class. The teacher, who was already overwhelmed, was unable to look after her. She had to drop out of school. To make money for her medicine she weaves little rubber bracelets and sells them in the local market. 

The town is built into a steep, dusty cliffside—as are many shanty towns. We watched a young pregnant woman carry her toddler up to the top of the hill. Then climb back down to get him lunch. And back up again. In the hot, dry heat.

A politician came to the town, wanting to ‘help’. So he built a few sets of stairs. And painted them in his parties bright yellow. And painted his name on every set he built, very blatantly stating—never forget who gave you these stairs.

Peru has suffered through many, many years of internal conflict. We visited a neighborhood where Shining Path controlled, murdering many civilians. Including children. It was explained to us that the women, mostly of indigenous heritage, stood up to Shining Path, arming themselves in whatever way they could. Resourceful and brave, as always, because they have no other option.

We came to Lima for Lima. 

We visited magic markets and got to see both the white magic and dark magic with doctors.

This is a statue dedicated of a very young, but very hard working shoe shiner—who was a community staple. During a rain storm he took cover in a nearby electrical closet and was electrocuted.