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.

Happy New Year's

Spent New Year's Eve and the New Year with my landlord Juan and his friends. A talented bunch who played music, sang songs, acted, told stories. It was wonderful, even if I only understood about a third of what they were saying and singing. Juan, who's written 17 books on Arequipa and has a very nice voice, was a very gracious host.  I'll try to post some video and pictures, but now it's time for sleep. Happy New Year's everyone. I don't really think the world will end in 2012 ...

Once in a lifetime ...

Admittedly, I was a little overwhelmed by my trip to Machu Picchu (or is it Machupicchu? -- some of the locals insist it's one word).  First, there was an 11-hour, overnight bus ride from Arequipa to Cusco. Then you immediately jump into a cab to catch a mini-van that takes you on a 90-minute ride to Ollantaytambo. From there, it's a 90-minute train ride along the Urubamba River to the village of Machu Picchu. Finally, you catch a bus for a 15-minute ride up to The Lost City. A little bit of a whirlwind, but necessary since I'm on a schedule and budget. It was raining pretty steadily the entire way, and the rain didn't let up when I toured Machu Picchu. I opted to go solo (no guide), and as a result, I would probably like to make another trip. I checked maps and had a good idea of where to go and what to see, but a slight detour can lead to some serious and strenuous up-and-down climbing and wandering. My fitness is fine, and the sheer adrenalin rush of seeing Michu Picchu took care of any fatigue from the travel and lack of sleep. (The next day I was a mess.) The setting for Machu Picchu really is awe-inspiring. It's over 7,000 feet up, and you're walking among the clouds and seeing scenery like no other. And knowing you're wandering one of the seven wonders of the world, it's difficult to describe the sensation. The ruins of Machu Picchu aren't that expansive, really, but I spent about four hours looking at the temples, the houses, the plumbing (which is really cool), the agricultural terraces, and, of course, the stunning scenery. I won't bore you with any history lessons: First, I admit I don't know all the history, and second, you can just go look that stuff up on the Internet. I will say, however, that pictures and books are no match for the incredible experience of being there and walking among the ruins (duh!). At first I thought one trip was enough, but upon reflection, I definitely will return to Machu Picchu if I come back to teach in Arequipa. My computer is working at Peruvian speed these days, but I'll try to upload as many pictures as possible. The next day I wandered Cusco, which is an up-and-down experience on a couple of levels. Every street seems to go straight up, and walking is quite the workout. (Again, no guide.) Plus, Cusco sits at 11,200 feet. Luckily I brought altitude pills and drank coca tea. The center of the city has a beautiful Plaza de Armas like Arequipa, and it is understandably very touristy. There's more pizza parlors in Cusco than in Little Italy. Prices are geared to the gringo, and naturally there's no shortage of gringos. The vibe is hippie meets hipster meets hustler. You can't sit in the plaza without being hounded, and I mean hounded, by kids and adults wanting to shine your shoes, sell you a trinket or a pack of Inca cigarettes, or size you up to steal your stuff. I understand it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Supposedly, hard sell is illegal in the plaza, but no one pays attention. I'll take Arequipa any day. There are many other ruins in the area, and the Sacred Valley is highly recommended, but I settled for Machu Picchu and Cusco. Next time ... perhaps I'll have a little more money and time. Changing topics: Christmas in Arequipa is nice: fireworks and food prevail over the the pressure of getting presents. I hear New Year's is the same -- more fireworks and food. I miss my family immensely these days, but otherwise I have no real holiday blues away from home. I'm a Thanksgiving guy, anyway.  I have one more month of teaching -- 39 hours of class time a week, which is quite a bit -- and then it's back to the U.S. I'm nervous about that since I don't have any firm job prospects, but who cares? I'll jump off that bridge when I get to it. I've said it before, but for me it bears repeating: I'll really miss the students here.

Angels are crying

Big, big news from Arequipa. It rained. And the first rain I've seen in five and half months wasn't just a little shower, either. It was a steady soaking that lasted about four hours. There's no drainage to speak of here, so the streets flood, and your shoes and ankles get soaked wherever you walk. The stone sidewalks get slippery as well, adding yet another element of danger to the pedestrian lifestyle I live. It's worth it, though, because I love not having to depend on a car to get around. Christmas break started today, and I celebrated by buying an expensive bottle of wine (38 soles, or about $13). It's from Argentina, and the 14-year-old girl who sells me my vino recommended it highly, and she hasn't steered me wrong yet. Of course it doesn't feel like the Christmas seasons I'm accustomed to -- the temperature is about 70 in the day and 50 at night (summer here), and there are minimal decorations around town. Santa isn't really the man in Peru. I like that as well. Actually, it feels more like Thanksgiving, where the focus is on family gatherings and good food. However, most of the folk here love panettone. It's the Peruvian equivalent of U.S. fruitcake, and it's just as gnarly. Give me the anticuchos any day. Which reminds me, I've been going to this anticuchos stand near work, and it's the bomb. Giant pieces of marinated beef heart with ahi' (hot sauce that is tasty as well as hot), and two potatoes. Outstanding at a cost of S/.7 ($2.50 U.S.). You get a good portion as well. The little chicken hearts I've been buying on Puente Grau are a thing of the past. I've also found a place that sells Belgian beer -- Delerium Tremens at S/.20 (about $7) a bottle. That's a good price, but it takes a little classroom time to earn S/.20. The place is called Crepisimo, and it's something of a gringo hangout, but I don't care. It's been a while since I had a quality beer, so I savored that Delerium Tremens. Classes ended on a high note. Students and I celebrated with a secret santa kind of thing, good food and lots of cheer. I'm really going to miss the students here. Heading to Machu Picchu on Monday. Stoked about that. I also want to give a shout-out to Tracy for baking me a birthday cake, to Andrew for doing whatever he did to the cake, to Eleanor for the homemade, snappy ginger snaps, to Tiffany for the chocolate, to my "favorite" students for the awesome tres leches. My neighbor Jon moved on last week, and that's a bummer. He's a great guy. Adios amigo.

Early to rise

Don't plan on sleeping in here. Arequipa rises early. No daylight savings, so the sun's up around 5:30 a.m. and down at 6:30 p.m. year-round. In the a.m., there's barking dogs, the relentless honking of car, taxi, combi and bus horns, and our neighbors pounding on metal with sledge hammers doing god knows what. It all happens before 7:30 a.m. And I didn't even mention our landlord Juan playing opera on his stereo full blast around 6 a.m. Trash pickup here, between 7 a.m. and 9 a.m., is an event. The trash truck plays loud music to signal its arrival -- a recording of "No Place Like Home" on a pipe organ accompanied by flute. When I first heard it I thought it was an ice cream truck. The flatbed truck backs up into our alley, music blasting (sometimes they ring a loud bell instead), and everyone comes running out of their dwellings carrying bags of trash that go on the back of the truck. You've got to be quick. Vehicles, likes buses, combis and trash trucks, wait for no one in Arequipa. Even if they see you, they'll bolt if they're in the mood. Had a funny miscommunication with my landlord Juan. I was asking why our Internet was down, using my spanglish to explain that I needed to keep in touch with my dad. Somehow Juan thought I said that he was like a father to me. Juan seized on this. While he's away, he's having his new son water his countless plants and flowers, and chase the trash truck three times a week. It's nice doing a few chores. I kind of miss my house now, and the endless chores and projects you face as a homeowner. Found a decent coffee/pastry shop where you can hang out. It's got a nice patio, and I go there to lesson plan. The coffee isn't cheap, however. About S/.5 for a small Americano. The ladies are nice there, though, and they like to practice their English with me, and they also help me with my Spanish. We're watching A Christmas Story in my 7-9 p.m. class a little bit at a time. A lot of the dialogue is pretty subtle for the students, but they thought it was absolutely hilarious when Ralphie lets the F-bomb slip while changing the flat tire with his dad. Good stuff. Heading to Machu Picchu Dec. 26. Wanted to be there Christmas Day, but work made scheduling difficult. My contract here ends at the end of January. Wondering what I'll do when I grow up.