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.