Quality time

My son Jack is here in Arequipa, so let the good times roll. I met Jack in Cusco on Tuesday (11/27/12) morning at our hotel, the Munay Wasi. It was a nice place a few blocks from Cusco's Plaza de Armas. We had time to say hello and then we immediately took off on a whirlwind "City Tour" that included visits to churches, temples, fields, temples, churches and some fields. It was OK, but we were tired, and we also got tired of getting on and off a hot bus every nine minutes to see the churches, temples and fields. You weren't allowed to take pictures of the artwork owned by the Catholics in the churches, but you could take pictures of the Andean artifacts. The next day we toured the Sacred Valley. This was a nice trip at a less frenetic pace. The ruins we saw were impressive, and we went to a pretty cool Inca burial site. They put the bodies in the fetal position and "buried" them into the side of a mountain that now looks like brown swiss cheese (lots of holes where the bodies were placed). After the Sacred Valley tour we had a couple of hours to kill in Ollantaytambo before we caught a train to Aguas Calientes near Machu Picchu. Funny, but the short stay in Ollantaytambo was one of the highlights of the trip for me. We sat drinking cappuccinos at a cafe in Ollantaytambo's central plaza. The weather was perfect, the pace of life seemed idyllic, with schoolkids chatting and locals going about their daily routine at a leisurely pace. The taxi traffic was minimal, and everyone gave us a nod or smile while we sat taking it all in. That'll be a wonderful memory for me. The train ride to Aguas Calientes/Machu Picchu was uneventful and we got to a pretty nice hotel, The Green Nature, which was close to the train station, and just as close to the bus that would take us up to the Machu Picchu ruins on Thursday (11/29/12). We toured the ruins, which was pretty awesome, of course. I also signed us up for a hike up Wayna Picchu Mountain. It's pretty much a straight-up hike that got creepier and creepier the higher you went. Creepy in the sense that there are no railings near the top. I panicked, and refused to the walk the "ledge" around the side of the mountain that led to the peak (there was no railing and the drop was very, very precipitous to say the very, very least).  Jack scaled the final 20 meters to the peak, while I sat defeated on a little ledge at the top of ridiculously steep stairs. A young woman I saw had the same experience I did and we both agreed we had gone high enough. I just don't like ledges with 1,000-foot drops and no railing. Call me crazy, or a coward, but that's the way it is. Going down the mountain wasn't bad at all once I got past the steep stairs, so I considered the hike a success. We hung out in Cusco on Friday, flew back to Arequipa on Saturday, and enjoyed some pisco sours Saturday night. We're just going to chill out and visit the school where I teach on Monday. I'm not teaching this month so I could spend time uninterrupted with my son, but I'll be giving new students placement tests closer to Christmas.
Finished up with my 5 p.m. group, and we had a wonderful class of pizza and cake and pictures and exam preparation. They all passed, of course, because they are the greatest students in the world. Maybe I'll teach them again, maybe not. I'll never forget that bunch. Same with the 7 p.m. group. They got through fluency, enduring the writing and speaking assignments and their gringo teacher with the spotty Spanish. We had a wonderful night out. Great, great, great students here.

Blogged down a bit

The blog has been on hold for a bit because I've been dealing with a couple of minor medical maladies and a lot of work. A cyst on my back ruptured (kind of like volcano Misti), which allowed me to sample the local clinic for treatment. For S/.10 ($4), Dr. Ortho at Espiritu Santo clinic checked me out and prescribed 10 days worth of antibiotics, which more or less did the trick. The cyst is back to its old solid self.  Total bill: $16. Not bad. The only negative was when the doctor coughed on my back while checking me out. Oops.
Once recovered from the cyst I got mixed up with some kind of food poisoning. My stomach bloated like a beach ball and the pain was impressive. In fact, the stomach pain wouldn't let me stand up straight so I had to miss two days of work. That's two days of no pay, so that sucks. I haven't eaten for three days, but my stomach is still a little puffy. Guess I'll never have six-pack abs. I'm getting better, though, and will return to work Monday. I really hate missing work, and not just because of the money. I enjoy the students so much that I look forward to work. It's nice when you really like your job.
I've been trying my hand at a little Peruvian cooking (I don't think that's what made me ill -- really). Making some soups with mixed vegetables, ahi colorado (a kind of hot sauce), chicken or meat. It's pretty easy and quick, and the ahi colorado gives the soup a good flavor.
Speaking of flavor, I was teaching vocabulary to my 5 p.m. class, and we were talking about tastes and flavors. Hearing the word flavor, one of my students (she knows who she is) starts singing out flavor-Flav, flavor-Flav. It's nice to see the best of American culture is reaching Peru.
I'm still dealing with the short-change change issue. Bought a sandwich for S/.4, gave the woman S/.20 and got S/.6 in change. I could chalk that up to an honest mistake, except the woman complained to me about the 20 I gave her, asking if I had anything smaller. Same sort of nonsense at a couple of the little shops. My buddy at the corner store never tries to trick me, but when the other shops see the pasty gringo, they give the short-change trick a try. I always have them lay the change in my open palm so we can both see how much money is changing hands.
My son Jack is coming in about 10 days. We're meeting in Cusco, where we'll tour the Sacred Valley, Machu Picchu, and any other sites we can get to in our four days there. Can't wait to see him. I'm at that point in my stay here when I'm really missing family and friends back home. I'm taking December off, and may travel, or chill, or whatever. Return to work in January, and deciding what to do next -- again -- just like the last time I was here.

Crucifixion

I've been out of the blog loop for a couple of weeks, mourning Obama's performance in the debate, fighting a persistent flu/cold thing that has even challenged the farmacia, working lots of hours, and getting my computer repaired. The computer is much better -- the mouse pad and cursor weren't in concert, so basically I couldn't do a dang thing unless I had the patience of a zen master. I don't. Luckily, Samantha, a former TEFL student of mine who is now my boss, knew a guy who knew a guy, or something like that, and got my computer functioning again for S/.100 (about $40 U.S.). Worth every penny, although the cursor remains a little free-spirited at times. My illness is slowly getting better, but at least I haven't had to miss work. I try not to call in sick unless I absolutely have to (don't look at "have to" as a dangling preposition; instead, see it as a semi-modal verb). TEFL class and my Peruvian classes continue to sail along. My 5 p.m. kids got a little sick of me at the end of last month, but now we're BFFs again. I love those guys. Great energy, funny, and pretty darn cheerful considering they're listening to me babble vocabulary and grammar, and being made to write the DREADED essays. My 7 p.m. group, the mature ones, are pretty cool as well, but they're coming to my class after working all day. That ain't easy. I assume my TEFL class is probably sick of me, but that's TEFL. We're together 5 hours a day and the grammar wears most of them down, especially when you tack on observations, student teaching, pedagogy, and my annoying personality. Can't help any of that ... that's just how it shakes out.
I'm sad to report that living conditions at Juan's aren't what they used to be. Trash piles up in the hall (unless I take it out). Dishes pile up in the sink (unless I wash them). My neighbors operate at very high volume -- music, loud talking, TV.  I wear ear plugs ... really.  Juan is in the hospital with pneumonia, and he broke his leg at a bullfight a couple of weeks ago, not that he cares about the conditions downstairs in his house. His daughter is working to keep the place in order and does pretty good, but that's a full-time job. I believe she already has a job. Hopefully, things will settle down and quiet down here, 'cause I love the setting and location. And I really like Juan.
I have to update and/or correct a previous observation about Arequipa. I'm seeing more skirts and shorts on the girls now that's it's spring. Nothing like the U.S., of course, but it's noticeable compared to the last time I was here. Not that I'm looking, or anything. Interesting to note that there's a group of gringos here who all gather at the same "Irish" bar, eat at KFC, Mickey D's, Pizza Hut, and drink Starbucks Coffee. Whatever.
Saw a "crucifixion" in the Plaza de Armas on Saturday. It was re-enactment of course, kind of close to the KFC. Quite a crowd gathered, and people were yelling and cheering and jeering and stuff. Weird. I'll try to post the pictures.
My son Jack is coming here at the end of November. Can't wait!!! Miss all my kids of course. And a  shout-out to Ron Whiteside for taking care of my cat. And if the cat isn't with us any more, yet another shout-out to Ron.
And finally, what the hell was up with Obama in the first debate? He better bring his A game this time. At least Biden came in fired up.

GOALLL!!!!-Oriented

This has been (note the use of the present perfect tense) a very busy month. The first week of September I taught 9 hours a day, and the second week I taught 8 or 9 hours a day and also did a couple of hours of teacher observations of my TEFL students. I am either working or lesson planning (or wishing I had spent more time lesson planning). Things should settle down the latter part of the month. The TEFL class is an interesting bunch: a guy from Denmark, a guy from Belgium, a woman from Ecuador, and two young ladies from Massachusetts. The TEFL program is pretty intense -- 4-5 hours of class a day, and the students have to do observations and then student teaching. The program runs 18-20 days, and the TEFL students get pretty sick of seeing me. On the other hand, I never get sick of them because they're paying my way here. The grammar class wears all of us down since it's dense stuff and there's a lot of material to cover. I guess I could play more games as a teaching tool, but time is short and there's so much to cover. I didn't realize how much grammar there is -- to know and teach. Plus, I'm on my feet most of the day so when I get home I'm good for dinner and then it's right to bed. And loving every minute of it. Really.
I may bounce up to Costa Rica for a month or two to teach a TEFL class, but that's a very iffy proposition at the moment. The owner of the school here is working out the details, and since this is Latin America, things like schedules and commitments don't always pan out. (I don't mean pan as in the Spanish word for bread, either).
My Peruvian classes (5 p.m. to 9 p.m.) are going super well. The 5 p.m. class is high maintenance in a great way and the 7 p.m. group is very self-motivated. Interesting contrast, yet both classes are very smart.  I'm still fighting my on-again, off-again, on-again cigarette habit. My 5 p.m. class rides me real hard about it, and I've told them I'll quit. It'll happen. The 5 p.m. class is such a great group of kids. We've become pretty good friends, I think.
Speaking of cigs, the other night I flicked my spent butt at this little 4-inch by 4-inch drainage hole a ways away in the street, and the thing bounced right in. I even had a witness -- Christian, the security guard. Folks have been trying to make that shot since I've been here. After it went in, I started screaming GOALLL!!!! like I had just scored in the World Cup. Coincidentally, my "goal" and yelling came at the exact moment Peru was playing Venezuela in a World Cup qualifier. I was yelling so loud, all the Peruvian students in the school thought Peru had scored a goal in the game, and were cheering in their classes. I had to go back into the school and break the bad news that Peru hadn't scored, and that I was celebrating my own pathetic success. It was kind of funny, though, in an ironic way. I guess. Luckily, Peru ended up winning the match 2-1.
I hang out Saturday mornings with landlord Juan's cleaning lady's little kids -- two cute girls. We play hide and seek and I show them pictures and videos on my laptop. It's fun stuff. One of those little unexpected joys in life.
I rarely drink alcohol here. On Fridays, I'll have 2 or 3 pisco sours, and that's it for the week. For whatever reason, I had my usual Friday night prescription of piscos and they hit me like a 4-hour grammar lesson. Getting old I guess. Or maybe it's the altitude. That's it, it's the altitude.

A touching trip

On Friday, I went to a very poor area on the outskirts of Arequipa and visited a Catholic school there. I went with my boss and my four TEFL students. The area has no running water -- each day residents go to a well locked in a shed (they need a key to get in) and fill up their jugs. The area is above the city with a great view of Volcano Chachani, and it was incredibly dusty. It's hot in the day and very cool in the night and morning. More than half the children suffer from malnutrition and have lung and skin ailments because of the dust and dirt. The teachers there really do God's work, and the kids from pre-school to high school have very little, but are always smiling, laughing, playing, and in the end, learning. The visit was part of the cultural awareness portion of our TEFL class. I played soccer with the kids, and got schooled. A 7-year-old twice deflected my shots away from what appeared to be an open goal. Soccer is in their blood, and the kids are fearless. Yet, when the younger students see a gringo, they flock to you, and you feel the love. Most of these children have very difficult home lives as well. I'll be going there each month with my TEFL classes, and I'm really looking forward to the next visit.
They say bad things come in threes, whoever the hell THEY are. On Thursday this past week, THEY were right. First, I left my USB in a computer after downloading and printing out some teaching materials. I went home, remembered my USB, went back to work ... and the USB was gone, never to be recovered. The office secretaries joked that my porn collection and compromising videos of me were on the USB. Ha ha. Sorry, but I keep those on a disc (just kidding, of course!!). No. 2: After losing the USB, I went to my corner store to get a soda. I was wearing my backpack, which was loaded with books and stuff. When I turned to pay the owner, I knocked over an entire display of drinks -- at least 25 plastic soda containers were all over the floor in the crowded store. The owner (the guy pictured on the right in the dark photo) helped me pick up the drinks. Everyone else in the store looked at me and laughed, and then scowled because they had to wait for the owner to help me before he could take their money and complete their purchases. No. 3: I taught a lesson on the subjunctive to my 7 p.m. class and got kinda lost for a moment. One of the students corrected me, and then pointed out another error I made about possessive adjectives. I tried to defend myself and got a little more lost. I had to suck it up and say that I blew it. It ain't the first time! The student, Daphne, speaks flawless English and obviously, knows her grammar. I had to eat crow twice. The students were cool about it, though, only snickering at me for about seven minutes or so. I joked that on my deathbed I would mumble "Daphne", and then die, leaving any witnesses to my death to wonder who Daphne is. Of course, if those are the worst things that happen to me here, then I'm living right.
My 5 p.m. class is a total hoot -- youngsters (between 13-18, and one adult) who chat, sing and laugh all class. But when it's time to bear down, they're great. Really enjoy my 7 p.m. group as well, even with the subjunctive and possessive adjectives. I'll be teaching both groups again next month, and we're all happy about that. I'll also be teaching TEFL pedagogy and grammar, so I'll be a busy boy. Keeps me out of trouble.
I had lunch at La Pata the other day, and the soup was fantastic. But the main dish, pork leg of some sort (it looked like a human knee), was pretty gnarly. No meat on it, so I guess you're supposed to gnaw on the skin and whatever else was there. I tried, but gave up after a minute or so. Nasty business.

Back in line

I had my back go out on me last week. This happens about every 10 years or so, but 10 years ago I wasn't on my feet for seven hours a day teaching, or walking up and down the hilly streets of Arequipa to get to work and do all my business. Ah, but once again, the farmacia came to the rescue. My improving Spanish allowed me to understand the farmacia lady telling me that nerves had been squeezed, and I needed something to reduce the inflammation. Yup, sounded good to me. So I took the yellow pills twice a day for three days (with meals, the farmacia lady insisted). The first day I could make my wince look like a smile. The second day I was walking smoothly. The third day I was doing cartwheels with a roundoff flip finish. Well, let's just say that on the third day I was better.
Some disappointing news. I walked all the way to the "bad" part of town to get wine for cheap, hoping to see the little girl who was my wine connection the last time I was here. (The "bad" part of town is "badder" at night and not so "bad" in the day.) But when I got there, instead of a whole block of wine stalls like last time, only one was open and there was this angry looking guy there. I walk up and say hola, and get no response. Not even eye contact. I just go ahead and ask for a wine I bought for S/.12 (12 soles) last time. He tells me it's 26 soles. Adios amigo. A long walk for nada.
No question, getting service here is a much different ballgame than it is in the U.S. Passive-aggressive doesn't work. You have to be aggressive-aggressive. If you stand and wait for acknowledgment, the Peruvians will cut in front of you and order quicker than you can say "Pero yo estaba aqui primero!!!!" (But I was here first!!!!!) Also, don't expect pleasantries or much small talk. Item and money. You may get a gracias. The exception is the owner of the shop around the corner who always greets me with a smile and a funny comment. Actually, the ones I understand are funny. Not sure about the ones I don't understand.
My 5 p.m. class is younger and highly energetic. So I have to be the same. Then I go to the 7 p.m. class, which is composed of adults, and the energy level is much different. More sedate to be sure. The problem is, I come in hopped up with a few coffees in me, and it takes me a good half-hour to settle down. The 7 p.m. class thinks I'm insane, I think. I know this isn't very interesting, but I thought I'd share it with you anyway.
I brought some coca cookies to the 5 p.m. class, and one of my students, Caroline (great name!), remarked: "No wonder you have so much energy. And I thought that's just how you were." Actually, it was only the second time I've ever had them in Arequipa, Caroline .... so there.
TEFL class is great, and I'll be teaching it again next month. Let the good times roll.
I was sitting at the International Club restaurant having a pisco sour last night, enjoying the opulent atmosphere of the place and listening to the Rio Chili below. Then I noticed a guy who was apparently homeless setting up camp by the bridge across the river. Just as he was settled in, a big water truck came by spraying the dusty hillside leading up to the bridge. I guess this keeps dust down. The guy had to scramble or he would have gotten soaked. He never came back.

Revealing moments

Luckily, there is never a dull moment here in Arequipa. I bought some anticuchos on the bridge, and only had a 10-sol bill to pay with. I got 5 soles change, which was correct. However, the next day when I went to buy something at my corner store, the lady behind the counter looked at the coin and said "es falso." My anticuchos lady had given me a counterfeit S/.5 coin ... unknowingly, I'm sure. Of course, I was unable to make my purchase. I took the coin to the bank and showed it to the teller, who couldn't have been more dismissive when she told me "es bueno ... no es falso." That same teller refused to exchange the coin, and also refused to make change for that coin. I showed the coin to my students, who all said it was an obvious fake. So we played a competitive vocabulary game in class, and the winning team earned a 5-sol coin as a prize. By the way, the dollar ain't what it used to be here -- 5 soles is equivalent to $1.91. There's been a lot of counterfeiting here lately, I've been told, so I got training on how to check all the bills to make sure they're OK.
I've mentioned before how the women and girls dress conservatively here. No daisy dukes or short skirts. I should invest in blue jeans. That said, I found it interesting to see three gringas (white girls) sunbathing in short-shorts and skimpy tank tops alongside a very busy street and pedestrian walkway in a park across the street from my school. (I won't post that picture ...... 'cause I didn't take it). I don't know, but it just seemed kind of imperialistic to me. We're gonna do our skin cancer thing in front of God and everybody, even if it isn't part of the culture here. The taxi drivers approved, though, as did all the teenage boys walking by. It just seemed so out of place, kind of like wearing a speedo to church.
I was walking home from school the other night when an empty plastic coke container sailed past my head and hit the wall next to me. Much laughing and cackling came from a passing combi (little van that transports locals for cheap). I am a head taller than most of the folk here, so I'd be an easy target. And ... I'm a gringo. No harm no foul.
It's parade and firecracker season again. Isn't it always? Actually, Arequipa Day is this Wednesday -- the city is celebrating its 472nd anniversary. That's what the sign says. Time to Parte'.
Classes are going well. Students are wonderful. And you can take that to the bank.

Still a sol

I'm going to teach again in Peru. In fact, I'm here now, and will get my teaching schedule next week. Saw some of the old gang, and renewed acquaintances. Good stuff. I'm here again, really, because timing seems to be everything. The day after I committed to return to Arequipa, I got an email to interview for a teaching job in Turkey that I had applied for a couple of weeks before. It was in a town called Gaziantep, one of the oldest cities in the world located fairly close to the Syrian border. I had to tell them I had taken a job in Peru. On my way down here, a friend texts me with a strong lead on a job in the Delaware public school system. I had to tell him I was on my way to Peru (actually I got the message while hanging around the Miami airport). My trip here started with a very pleasant train ride from Wilmington, Del., to Baltimore. The flight from BWI to Miami was smooth, as was the flight from Miami to Lima. But I was just a bit tardy for my Lima to Arequipa flight and had to hang around the Lima airport for 12 hours until the next flight. That flight got delayed an hour, just for spite I think, but I made it to Arequipa 6 p.m. Wednesday. I left Delaware 12:30 p.m. Tuesday. I arrived at Juan's house where I'll be living again, but he wasn't home yet, so I wandered down to the Puente Grau and saw the anticuchos lady and young Guadalupe. Smiles and high-fives all the way around. And four anticuchos sticks as well. A man's got to eat. Went back to Juan's and got settled in my room (it's not the same room I had, which is fine. My old room bordered the street and the action sometimes got a little noisy). Today, I had lunch (beef soup, cow stomach, rice with potatoes) with landlord Juan at a lunch-only place on our street, and Juan even picked up the 7-sol tab. We're going to have lunch at a new place tomorrow. Saw the guy who owns the little shop on the corner, and he joked that I'm losing my fluency in English. Not much has really changed in the six months I've been away. Six pieces of very good pan de tres puntos (a kind of roll) is still a sol. Anticuchos is still a sol a stick. Juan still plays opera, and the trash truck still rings its bells loudly at 7 a.m. It's great to be back. Weather is great, of course. Needed a light jacket last night. Sunny and pleasant today. It'll be that way until the rainy season starts late December. Did I mention it's great to be back? I've posted a picture of a Hamilton (made only in Peru) cigarette pack cover to shock all of my young readers into never smoking. They're on all the brands here and some are pretty graphic and nasty.

Living the high(way) life

Since I've returned to Delaware three weeks ago I think I've put on about 10 pounds. Instead of walking a few miles each day like I did in Arequipa for six months, I'm now driving about 30 miles a day. I enjoy driving my car again sort of, but don't enjoy the $55 it takes to fill the tank. Gas prices keep rising, too. And since I've been back, I'm hitting all my old favorite food and beverage joints, like the Charcoal Pit, Grotto Pizza, Dunkin' Donuts, State Line Liquors (with its fabulous beer selection) and on and on. Some days I wander out to the state park along the Brandywine River nearby and hike around. Hopefully, I can post a picture. Found a Peruvian restaurant here, but it cost $7 for a side of potatoes with sauce. They gave me a free chicken "quarter" (when I told them about Arequipa) and it was OK, but I still miss the anticuchos and tres leches. Weather here has been pretty good lately, especially for February. Highs near 50 and lows around 30 (fahrenheit). It ain't Peru, though. Getting paperwork together to start substitute teaching. Not too difficult, but it's a bit of a process. I've been looking after my dad, who will be 97 in a week or so, and future travel plans are temporarily on hold, given his situation. I'm heading to Ohio on Wednesday to see my kids and a buddy in Yellow Springs, do my taxes, and renew my teacher's license. I can't wait to see my children. I think about them all the time. Of course, I worry every day about Jack, who's in Afghanistan now. We all know what's happening there currently. I really miss Peru and the people there, but's it's nice to see some old friends here. Yin and yang, I guess.

The trip -- and home

My return to the United States from Arequipa, Peru, was something of a long, strange trip. I left Arequipa on Sunday, Feb. 5, at 6:40 p.m., taking a Taca Airlines flight to Lima. Once I picked up my luggage in Lima I had some real time to kill. My next flight, to Panama City, departed at 3:04 a.m., meaning my layover was something like seven hours. Dullsville but uneventful. The flight to Panama was equally uneventful, other than the fact we got a pretty darn good roast beef sandwich on the plane. I had a three-hour layover in the pleasant Panama airport before departing for Nassau, Bahamas. The excitement, such as it was, took place at Nassau Airport. I was told to pick up my luggage, even though Taca told me my luggage was heading all the way to Philadelphia. A lady in Nassau was taking luggage off the conveyer belt and rolling it out onto the floor. All the bags looked pretty much the same, and I didn't see my bag. Time was ticking and I was getting a wee bit nervous about catching my flight to Philadelphia. Finally, I heard the woman screaming my name -- she had found my bag. I went through the British/Bahama customs aisle without incident, but I wasn't allowed to head toward U.S. customs. The gentleman there told me my ticket was not valid, and that I needed to be reissued a new one. I went back to the ticket counter to get a new ticket, but the lady told me the flight to Philly was closed. After some haggling, I convinced her I had reserved a seat, so she poked around on the computer, found my name and issued me a new ticket. One of the airline workers commented to me: "At first I thought you would be OK, but now I think you're going to miss your flight." I had less than 30 minutes before takeoff, and I still had to go through U.S. customs. The line was huge, of course, and there would be no way to reach my plane on time if I waited. So I walked to the front of the line, turned to the crowd, and pleaded my case. "If I don't cut in line, I miss my flight. I miss my kids." Everyone said they understood -- "We've all been there," one lady said. Awesome. I get to the customs agent about 10 minutes before takeoff. The little interview seemed to go OK until the guy keeps asking me why I was in Panama.  I told him the truth. That's the flight Orbit lined up for me. I tried to change it but had no luck. He told me to go into a side room. I go and there's two guys there. One takes my backpack and runs it though a scanner (about the fifth time it was scanned on the trip) and asks me if I know what's in there. I tell him some books, my computer, and a crucifix I bought in Peru. The other guy, who tells me his father was born in Peru, asks me what I was doing in Peru. I told him I was helping children .... learn English. I'm resigned to missing my flight at this point. But the guys tell me to go ahead and catch my flight. Turns out they were holding the plane for me. As I ran toward gate 41C, a lady yells, "It's Lord Millman. Lord Millman coming." Lord Millman. My family and friends would have been so proud. When I entered the plane, everyone gave me the awkward eye, obviously not pleased to have their flight held up. I'm thinking, "But I'm "Lord Millman." After the little drama, my uneventful flight landed in Philly at 4:40 p.m. on Monday, Feb. 6. Back in the U.S. after seven wonderful months in Peru. It snowed Tuesday here, and it's snowing, raining and sleeting tonight (Saturday, Feb. 10). No place like home.

I am really going to miss Peru

I'm buying souvenirs for the folks back in the U.S. I'm saying goodbye to my Peruvian friends. I'm leaving the wonderful city of Arequipa and confounding country of Peru this Sunday with extremely mixed emotions. A bittersweet time, as one teacher said to me. I can't wait to see my family and friends in the U.S., of course, but this place has found its way into my heart. Cliched, but so very true. The awesome food and weather, Colca Canyon, Machu Picchu, even that damn San Camilo market. The fireworks, blaring horns, rude pedestrians, prostitutes, and stoic faces on the combis.  Juan's 5 a.m. opera, the cold showers, the battles over change in the shops and markets. All unforgettable. Of course, the highlight was the friendships I made with the teachers (a big shout-out to Jon, Vanessa, Anna and Chloe and whoever else I'm forgetting), with Juan & Co., with the shop owners and street vendors (and especially the Anticuchos Lady and her sidekick Guadalupe), and best of all, with THE STUDENTS. Some of them actually learned a little English from me along the way -- key words and phrases like: Clear as mud (Claro como baro y agua), Chuckleheads, Easy Peasy Weasy. Sometimes, I feel like I learned more Spanish from the students than they learned English from me. But I think it's fair to say we learned a lot from each other. These overworked students always came to class cheerful, if somewhat tired, and were respectful, attentive, and a joy to teach. There's Oscar, Jose, Ana Patricia, Karen, Emanuel, Diego, Rolly, Karem, Karina, Claudia, Carlos, Julio, Grace, Diana Ruth and on and on. There's so many, and all such wonderful people. And they were ALL my favorite student (an inside joke). The time flew by -- I've been here more than 6-and-a-half months -- and that's a tribute to the classes I had. Winners one and all. I also want to mention my employer, Extreme, which ignored my age, hired me, and gave me a wonderful opportunity. I learned more English grammar here in six months than I did in 30 years in the newspaper business. I have no idea what I'll do next, but I'm not really concerned. This was an experience I'll treasure forever. It'll be tough to top. One can only hope.

Casa de Juan

I would be remiss in my duties as a "blogger" if I didn't write a little about the place where I live, or as everyone calls it, The Casa de Juan. The pictures I'm posting will give you a better idea of the place than my drivel, but I'll try to add what I can. Consider it a tribute to my landlord Juan. Living here in the heart of Arequipa has been a blast -- from the fireworks that go off in the area about three times a week, to the relentless barking of the neighbor's dog, to Juan's penchant for listening to Spanish opera (and he has nice sound system) at 5:30 a.m., to the very chilly showers (although it has been heating up a little lately), to the tiny kitchen you share with the other tenants, to the brawls and battles outside my window at all hours of the night, to the incessant honking of horns, to the inconsistent internet. All that said, what sticks with me the most about this place is how really pretty and peaceful it is even with the surrounding chaos. The tile floors are striking, even if they're white and dust magnets. There are flowers and plants everywhere. The hallway has no ceiling -- it's open-air so you can step out of your room and see the stars. The open-air second-floor patio (although it's much bigger than a patio) features more plants and flowers and most impressive, murals on the walls. It's where I do my wash, lesson plan on occasion, and just chill out. Keep climbing the outdoor stairs and you reach the roof. I've posted pictures from the roof on this blog, but they don't really do the view justice. And of course, there's Juan. Wonderful guy with a lot of charisma -- I've mentioned that he's an author and authority on all things Arequipa, a wonderful singer, a bullfighting aficionado, and all-around man about town. I'm glad I lucked into this place at the recommendation of one of the teachers. I almost rented a place in the "classier and safer" part of town. I didn't rent there because I would have had to share a bathroom -- I'll put up with cold water as long as I have my own bathroom. If I come back to Arequipa, I would try to rent here again.
I only have a few more days of teaching remaining, and I'm getting ready for my Feb. 6 departure. It's been a rough month with loads of teaching hours, including a four-hour stint on Saturday. I'll have a couple of days to relax before heading out. My Saturday TEFL class and I are going to lunch this Saturday -- ceviche, of course. I've gotten a couple of gifts from some other students, and it's really quite touching. The students -- and the visit from my son Jack -- have been the highlights of my time in Arequipa. I'll try to scratch out one more blog post before I leave (sure y'all can't wait) and post pictures of some of the folk in town who've treated me really well the past 6.5 months.

'Ho-down

I was told there were a couple of mild earthquakes last weekend. I missed them both somehow. Probably, because at about the time the earth was moving I was being accosted by a prostitute on my way to San Camilo Market.  I had finished my TEFL class, bought some wine and was wandering the sketchy part of town like I do every Saturday. I've seen hookers scattered about, but on this day I ran into a 'ho cluster about a block from the market. I must have looked like a wounded gazelle because one of the prostitutes broke from the pack and latched onto my left arm and wouldn't let go. I was worried the rest of the pack was going to pounce and take me down, but they just watched and laughed as I tried to break free from the rogue 'ho. Not that I'm THAT kind of guy, but I did notice the woman grabbing me was young (compared to the rest of the pack) and fairly attractive (compared to the rest of pack). But that was no lady, a bunch of locals told me. One of the teachers in the know said, "Oh, the good-looking one? Kind of thin? That's a dude." Anyway, after I escaped the gift of grab I went to the market to buy some tooth paste and such. Of course, I got into a hassle over change, which can wear you down a little here. While I was bickering I put S/.20 in my jacket pocket and waited for the change I was due. I got my meager change and walked to El Super, the bustling supermarket "uptown" closer to where I live. I've had enough of the Central Market. I was about to buy some stuff at El Super but when I reached into my pocket, no S/.20. I'd been picked. Really, it was my fault for not taking smaller bills and not taking more care. But, it's tough to break the big bills I'm paid with here. The lines at the banks are crazy long, and the tellers are in no hurry. They have the power. You could easily spend 40 minutes in line trying to break S/.100. Kind of a catch 22. Luckily, it was only S/.20 and not my passport or credit cards.
Working lots -- teaching 44 hours a week. It's starting to take its toll. I'm in bed before 10 every night and I'm still dragging. Fought off a mild stomach thing (some bad anticuchos from the bridge). The rain has stopped and it feels more like summer with highs reaching 80. Still, very few people, including the kids, wear shorts here. It's blue jeans and T-shirts. Usually, it's just the tourists wearing shorts, and seeing their physiques, a lot of them really should be wearing more clothes. Got a countdown going ... I head back to the U.S. Feb. 6. Can't wait to see the family.

Wet and wild

So after more than five months of constant sunshine and no rain, we are now in the midst of a deluge in Arequipa. It has rained for six straight days with only intermittent breaks. A few hours here and there of dryness, but even then it's threatening to rain. The sun has been out once, or maybe twice, in this stretch. I'm working a boatload, so to speak, so I don't really care, but everyone else seems a bit grumpy. And with the wet weather, walking has become even more challenging and dangerous. Pedestrians here ordinarily just bang into you, never say say excuse me, and rarely get out of your way even in the best weather. But now they're even more rude, if I may use that word -- and they're carrying weapons/umbrellas. Most Peruvians are shorter than me, meaning their umbrellas are at my face-level. No one seems very concerned about my face, and I've taken a couple of shots to the grill. The taxis will race by you, and since there's no drainage, expect to get soaked. It happened to me three times this past week. Still love the place, though. I woke up this morning (Saturday) to two guys screaming and yelling at each other outside my apartment. I took my ice-cold shower, got dressed, and when I went outside the two guys were on the ground punching and clawing. And still screaming. A woman cop stood over the two smiling and watching, while some other guys tried to separate the pair, who were both pretty beefy (but probably still shorter than me). This neighborhood is a bit sketchy, and my neighbors rarely acknowledge me when we cross paths, so I never did find out what the deal was. Probably just a couple of drunk a-holes blowing off steam at 7 a.m. My new anticuchos hangout is the best. Giant, juicy, tender chunks of marinated beef heart, with two hearty potatoes, grilled, and smothered in ahi' (glorious hot sauce). I'm hitting that place at least four times a week. In fact, I'm heading there tonight even though it's raining gatos y perros. Yes, my Spanish is beginning to improve, but of course I'm here for only about a month more. Oh well. I'm in the process of kicking the cigarette habit, which I picked up during my low stretch in October. Knowing they're so cheap adds to the challenge, but knowing they're so expensive in the U.S. adds to the incentive. The little girl who sells me wine recommended a 2007 cabernet sauvignon, Broquel, produced by the Argentinian winery Trapiche. It costs S/.38 (about $13.50 U.S.). I don't know squat about wine, but this stuff tastes pretty darn good. That little girl knows her vino. I'm already beginning to miss this place, and I haven't even left yet.