from darkest perú
lima, perú is almost always overcast, although it rarely ever rains.
we arrived sunday night at an ungodly hour, after 15+ combined hours of transit and waiting. a poster at customs tells us that children are neither for purchase or sale.
it’s not like any part of south america we’ve been to up to this point… beyond the implicit human trafficking, there’s a chili’s and a starbucks and whatever else, it’s a tourist world, for sure, and though the exchange rate heavily favors our dollar, the businesses occasionally look to get a leg up where they can.
probably the first thing we notice is there are exponentially more police here than where we’re living in rosario. in one of the squares, a military cop hands us a local map with a smile, riot police lean across a far wall. all four corners of the square are inhabited by assault vehicles; 1 set to repel protesters with water, the rest with automatic weapons. i ask if the protests are common, or violent, and our guide says they’re neither, but maybe he’s trying to make us feel better.
lima’s a modern city sprinkled with some of the oldest things you’ll ever see, turn a corner and you’ll run into a pre-incan pyramid older than christ. they have what equates to brazilian favelas, but their name for them is much more… optimistic? they call them “pueblo joven” as in a place that’s young and not quite on its feet yet.
