Lima Airport welcomed me three days ago by informing me that my duffel bag, containing things like my toothbrush, bug-spray, and all my clothes besides the on my back, was still in Ecuador, and would arrive at Lima the following day, if, in fact, it ever arrived at all. While getting a room at a hostel for the night might have been a wiser course of action, a combination of jet-lag, apprehension in a new city, and wanting both to know where I was going and to be in the company of other gringos, I instead proceeded to the bus station and hopped on a bus for Pisco, knowing I would have to repeat this trip, twice, the next day. During the four hour bus ride, during which the onboard TVs played Rise of the Planet of the Apes and two Jason Statham action flicks, all dubbed, naturally, in Spanish, we rode through a landscape out of Mad Max. The ocean in the distance on the right pounded against jagged cliffs, and on the left were bare mountains and deep canyons, all of the same gray-yellow dust and rock. It's a weird environment when you first encounter it, desert by the sea.
Arriving at last in Pisco, I caught a cab, and the very friendly driver dropped me off in front of a metal wall painted blue with a door in the middle, with the PSF logo painted on it in white. I knocked on the door, and was welcomed by a woman named Yulia with neon pink hair, a familiar sight which immediately put me at ease. Ducking through the door, I entered a cement courtyard. There were a few wooden and plastic picnic tables, and plastic chairs were stacked in a corner, in front of a shed which had a hand painted sign on the front which said 'No Smoking in Bio-Diesel Area.' Next to this shed was a Maine state flag hanging on the wall. I knew now for certain that this was an excellent place.
I was given a bunk in 'The Wacky Shack,' above the office. Unpacking at this stage consisted of putting my backpack down, but it felt satisfying anyway. Then I went down to the common room to start meeting people. I met Hector, from Lima, and Nick, from Missouri, while Hector was in the process of removing all the hair from the top of Nick's head. Dinner was excellent, and afterwards we had a 'new volunteer meeting' covering things like the rotating cleaning and cooking schedule, the use and maintenance of power tools, and earthquake safety.
The next morning I was off to return to Lima. When I dialed he phone number I was given at the airport to call and check if my bag was in, an automated voice informed me that it didn't exist, so I was going on hope, along with a desire to have more than one pair of underwear. They played Titanic on the bus on the way to Lima. The movies, while dubbed, are not edited for content, and while I've seen Titanic many times before, I've never been more uncomfortable watching it as this time, with many small children on board while Kate Winslet is naked on screen.
After the four hour bus ride to Lima and forty minute cab ride to the airport, it took less than ten minutes in the airport to get my bag. When I first saw it I was so excited that I accidentally punched the ceiling, which amused the ladies in the office.
Then back to Lima, watching Gran Torino on the bus, which I thought was an odd choice for a movie to show on public transport in Peru, given how much of the movie is devoted to Clint Eastwood being a grumpy racist. Arriving finally in Pisco, fully equipped, I noticed on the cab ride that all the lights in the neighborhood around PSF were out, another power outage. But as I walked into the courtyard, the lights came back on, a good omen. I got my first taste of Pisco night life later that night, when some of us went to a club called 'Mistica." The clubbing experience is very similar here as in the states: bar, strobe-lights, and music with a lot of bass.
Yesterday, my first real day here, I went with a crew to 'The French Hospital,' which isn't actually French, but the the people who supplied the money for it to be built are. I sanded concrete and chiseled a brick doorway, very gratifying and manly work. Saturdays are half days, so we wrapped up around 2 pm, and came back to PSF. We had two birthdays yesterday, Sam and Lucy, and it was Sam's 21st, so we roasted a pig on the beach. A good time was had by all.
Sunday is our off day, so I'm sitting at one of the tables in the courtyard at 10:30, eating a papaya. From now on I'll be more regular with the posts, and get in some photos. Hope all's well back home, and that the Occupy protests are still going strong. If you have a dog, give it a hug for me, I'm sure they deserve it.
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