Peru - Lima to the White City*

Well, the flights down were quite interesting, by which i mean highly stressful. Literally every flight (bos-dc, dc-atl, atl-lima, lima- arequipa) was delayed to the point I thought I was going to miss them while still on the other flight making sleep all but impossible, to say nothing of just relaxing on the plane. Got to Atlanta way late, convinced I had missed my Lima connection and would be spending the night in Hotlanta. THankfully, after running to the gate, it was delayed by two hours. Oh, but Ben didnt get there until about a half hour before the flight. We made it though, arriving in Lima at about 7AM. We bumbled around asking at ticket booths for prices and times of flights to Arequipa, most of which we had just missed. 1245 was the enxt, giving us two hours to sit with our bags, then check them, then sit around without our bags. Of course, by 1030 when we could check our bags, our flight was pushed back to 145. Sleepless, we decided to hit up Lima for a few hoursand maybe get some lunch and check out the fine peruvian cuisine (primarily steak, potatos and ceviche) weve been hearing about. After explicitly giving us the price into town in Nuevos Soles, our cabbie announced halfway into town that we were confused, he had said dollars, tripling the price of the overpriced cab. Utter bullshit, which I tried to just wait out silently, telling him to let us out right there or take us back. ¨I will not let you out here, too dangerous, and double price to go back to airport.¨ He was right, it was a less than desirable neighborhood. We decided to cut our losses and head into the Plaza De Armas or center of the city. We were met by a multithousand person marching anti government union demonstration, complete with molotov cocktails and stone throwing mobs, national police at the ready with teargas canisters. Streets were blocked off, and traffic was insane, it now looked like we might miss our flight we had just bought tickets for. We cut our losses and returned to the airport, to find our flight further delayed. Finally, we pile onto the plane and take our seats, only to be removed again from the airplane for another half hour delay.

Thankfully, by 300 we were winging our way over the Andes southward. The thing about flying over the Andes is that it is really like flying next to the andes, passing by and barely over the 20,000 ft peaks, with visions of cannibalistic soccer team andean plane crashes dancing in our heads. It was a spectacular flight though, over the worlds two deepèst canyons, over the Nazca desert lines, next to snow capped peaks on one side sliding down to the pacific on the other.
So at least, we arrive in Arequipa, about a half mile higher than Denver, and noticeably thinner air. They call it the white city, because the colonial buildings are all built from white ¨sillar´¨ a volcanic rock that is so soft that the walls of many buildigns are six feet thick. (this also helps the rich landownging spanish criollos, most of whom live here, defend against uprising farmers and indians). Many of the archways in the buildings (which as 16th century structures also predate the pilgrims), have signs that say ¨zona seguro de los sismos¨´ - safe place during earthquakes. NOt sure if I´m reassured or not. But it is a beautiful city, white colonial buildings framing the central plaza, where you can sit balconies sipping coffee (or coca leaf tea- no really, its good for the altitude) and watch the people on the plaza, the weddings outside the cathedral and the sunset over the snowcapped peaks beyond. Everyone seems to spend their time outside, even though nights get pretty chilly this high up and technically in the dead of winter, perhaps just the meditarannean cultural legacy is too hard to shake. The restaurants even provide blankets for chilly nights sitting outside, though I could do without the constant stream of peruvian windpipe players-amusing at first but quickly tiresome. A few other random things, like the Santa Claus who is always wandering around, every car is either a slightly-larger than bumper-car sized taxi or an enormous 1970´s Dodge Dart or Plymouth Valiant, the garbage trucks that play ¨fur elise,¨and the interesting fact that google peru can be used in Quechua, the local Incan language. Reminds me more of continental Spain than my trips to central america have, perhaps because it is less poor, or perhaps the architecture and the thin white sunlight creating shadows on the buildings. Also has a bit of a moroccan feel with rooftop terraces and small back alleyways, not surprising given the intertwined history of all the countries. Not at all bad and more on the food next time...

*although the guidebooks say its the white city because of the white Sillar stone, an incan-mestizo guy said it was because its where all the white people live