airports

The transition has been smooth. I am now on yet another continent and have had the good fortune of making it all the way to Santiago, if only to the airport. I am currently staying in a house with a group of student activists and volunteers from the US and Latin America.

Chaos. Dirt. Smog. Noise. Overcast. Petroleum. Pilsner. Cristal. Tizon. Huachipa. Gringas. Cheap taxis. Futbol. Mexicanos. El Peru.

The past few days have been a whirlwind.

I started my trip off without any sleep. This has apparently become a necessary aspect of most of my flights at this point. I justify it by the fact that I can sleep on the plane which makes sense at first but does not account for unplanned occurrences as would take place in "El DF."

I get off the plane and arrive at the more lax hours of operation in el DF. Nevertheless, the chaos and grime that is Mexico City permeates the atmosphere, in a good way.

My addiction guides my course through the airport in hopes of taking a few puffs and subduing my inclinations for the several hours that I have yet to travel. I sit down, have a sandwich and some juice since I could foresee the unfulfillment on flight meal that I would be graced with. I ended up chatting it up with a scottish expat who had been working on an oil rig and was going back to his wife and kids in Brazil. He didn't like scotland.

Perhaps it was intuition which induced an anxiousness in me at the time. I said goodbye and went off to find my departure gate, only to find out that there would be no flight to Lima that night. The plane had crashed with a transport vehicle. This inconvenience was, needless to say, disconcerting but I went with the flow and hopped on a flight to Chile. It turned out to be the best flight I had been on in a long time. All the wine I could drink and a wonderful entree of tripe and rice.

In the morning I woke up to the sight of the Andes on the left, approaching the beautiful city of Santiago. The sight of the mountain range from the airport exacerbated my anticipation of exploring Patagonia's mountain ranges on my stick.

That would have to would have to wait until after Peru. Lima is unique geographically and culturally, but other than that it encapsulates many of the idiosyncrasies of most major urban centers in its chaos, pollution, pace, and general feeling of consumerist superfluity. So far so good.

I get to the house and am struck by an odd sense of deja vu. I feel like I knew the house already, for it is exactly what I had envisioned. Nice setup. Turns out it is only a 10-15 minute walk from the ocean.

We go out and look for ceviche but fail at our attempt to find it so we get cheap sandwiches then go to a bar next to the compound-like intellectual center that is "la Catolica" in order to watch some football. 40's are 2 dollars at the bar. Me gusta.

The rest is where it gets hazy. US got worked. We went out. Sargento Pimienta's, Watdajel, Tizon, and then this weird bar in a touristy part of town that reminded me totally of Tijuana and Revolucion street.

Friday night. Ate ceviche, delicioso, not like Mexican ceviche. Played soccer next to the cliffs. Team gringo lost, just like the real one. Got a bottle of Bacardi. Challenged Matt. I drank almost an entire fifth of rum, then we went out. Needless to say we had to come home and bring Matt back. Bacardi, Tizon, Ozo. Quote of the night:

"They always say no the first time." -Kiet

Saturday. What a day this was. I am "crudo." You intuit the translation. We make it out to Huachipa finally. This is the region of Lima where I will be working. The conditions are appallingly squalid. There is a surreal layout to the area since there are no trees and the ground has been torn apart by the practices of the brickmaking industry.

Child labor is a huge problem in the area. The school is impressively lacking. We spend our time working on the playground. Word to the wise, don't start spinning the kids around unless you have a lot of energy. It was fun. The kids are cute.

Night comes. People come. Pretty soon there's a party. Sargento Pimientos. Gringas. Party. Jesus Freak. "Fresa" who is full of shit. We finally make it back to the house. Drunkenly stumble after late night munchies.

Today. Mexico won.