LIMA, PERU 2018 - 2 - HOLE IN THE WALL, BUS SYSTEM, FINDING LOVE ON THE MELACONE...

I wake up to a damp and cold apartment on day 2 of my stay in Lima. I try to recall Tara Brach’s inspiring statements from last night. “Imperfection is not our personal problem - it is a natural part of existing.” That converts my interpretation of the damp and cold into something tolerable and impermanent just as all authors I have been reading lately instruct.

When we accept things as they are everything becomes easier and lighter, try it...

I check my cell phone: Good news, my hostess responded to my request from last night. She will bring to the apartment a space heater and an additional comforter today. The hot water coming out of the faucet is the immediate good news that makes me childishly happy! Overnight heating of that small water tank was what was needed apparently. After a hot shower I am a happy camper ready to go out to explore the art scene of Lima.  

When you have this size of a water heater, you have to be careful how much water you use in the shower... 

I have to walk through the Jesus Maria neighborhood and get to the Pueblo Libre where two major museums are located: As I walk toward the Archeology, Anthropology, and History museum I find myself in front of the National Social Security Hospital located in a huge complex, covering an area of numerous city blocks. As a physician, after making a mental note of the size of the hospital, I notice the breakfast vendors on all street corners surrounded with people, who are after low priced, traditional food before they get to work. When I cross the street to take a picture of some of them, I notice a corner one story building, at the very corner of which is an opening to what I will discover is one of the “holes in the wall” that my travel book mentioned!
 

Hole in the wall type of a breakfast place across from Lima's Social Security Hospital

 

There are only four tables semi-circling a TV set mounted onto the wall, on which the Independence Day festivities are being broadcast. All four are occupied by what I will understand to be patients, probably waiting for their appointment at the hospital. Staff on the other hand is easily recognized by their rush to pick up their breakfast and coffee; they probably enjoy it with friends at work. This place is run by only women, the server, the cashier, the washer and the cook are all early middle age women, Magaly, Marilla, Marieni, and Tina, I will learn later! I want to give my business to them. I order a cheese egg sandwich. They eat, pork, chicken, beef sandwiches for breakfast here, not quite my cup of tea!

The women entrepreneurs of my hole in the wall, Magaly, Marilla, Marieni, and Tina

I sit at the mini bar by the window and start observing my surroundings. Staff and patients or patient families are two groups of customers I can discern. I am like a sore thumb, It is very clear that I am a Gringa with my minimal Spanish,, with attire that makes me neither hospital staff nor anything similar to their customers. However, I don’t have any feelings of not belonging; the four women are happy that I have breakfast there although they can’t put me in any box. I wish they hadn’t been so busy, I would have liked to talk with them.
 

At every corner around the intersection across from my hole in the wall are breakfast vendors like these two...

 

A young man walks in and places his order. He also notices me, I can tell from his body language that he is curious and is willing to talk if I chat him up and I do. He is a doctor, but has administrative duties. I tell him about myself and my vacation in Lima. He is happy to hear that I like Lima. This “How do you like ‘my country’” is a constant across all nations from Turkey to all other countries I have visited. His four cups of coffee and breakfast items are ready and he has to go. We part with smiles and his very polite “Mucho gusto conocerla” I am very happy that I met you.

Social Security Hospital in Lima is a huge hospital  

I have ordered a portion of papaya as well. I notice that the woman preparing my plate chooses the ripest papaya slices off the display plate, my heart warms up to her, not necessarily because I will get what I want but more so because of the kindness in her heart that she shows me. And the portion is huge, I wonder if everybody gets this portion or are they treating me as a guest sent by God as is the norm in Turkish culture. And all this food costs only 11 Soles, equivalent of 3.5 USD! Unbelievable, when I tell her I don’t need any change from the 15 soles I give her, she is in disbelief, it is lovely to see the overjoy on their faces.

City Center, Miraflores, Barranco are lined up north to south in Lima. Not on the map is Chorillos, further south.

I will notice that tipping in this country is more for high end restaurants not for these holes in the wall. Another observation I will make as the days go by is that “tiendas” stores of all kinds like this hole in the wall are a unique feature of Peru: This mini-restaurant is a free standing shack. But many other stores I will come across are part of a house with one room having a door opening to the outside world, turns into a store: I will see bakeries, restaurants, mini delis, sewing shops, shoe repair shops in tiny stores no more than 15-20 square feet all around Lima.
 

At the north end of Miraflores, old and new intermingle

 

 After I parting with these lovely four women, I start walking toward a big avenue. As I walk along the avenue, I notice that this avenue has lots of buses going up and down. Buses with several words on their side, which I resolve must be the main stops on their route. And volla, one comes by the words I was looking for: Currillos, Barranco, Miraflores. All three happen to be some of the neighborhoods I would like to visit. At the end of the line of words are Js Maria, abbreviation for my neighborhood and Tda Salaverry Av, which I assume must mean, the entire length of the avenue. This is a bus that must be coming from the south traveling across this north-south bound avenue traveling to downtown. When I cross the avenue, my suspicion is verified, a bus with the exact same words on it travels south, too. Right at that moment, I change my plan for the day and in a minute, I am on my way to Barranco. However, on the way to Barranco, I study my “CityMaps” app on my phone and decide to get off in Miraflores and go visit Huaca Pucllana, one of the ancient temples in town that has been excavated. Miraflores clearly is more an upper middle class to upper class neighborhood. Holes in the wall are rare, if at all, instead fancy restaurants line some of the avenues I cross along with some imported from North America.

One of the better depictions of Huaca Pucllana, a temple of the Wari era in Lima

 

I have to mention the “CityMaps” app, which a special friend of mine had downloaded on my phone years ago, is a phenomenal tool. I downloaded the map of Lima, when I had wi-fi. As I studied my travel book for things to do in Lima, I was able to find them all on the map and mark them on it before flying to Lima. Then when on the road with no wi-fi access, I will appreciate the fact that I will as not be able to see everything that I marked on it, but also will be able to see at all times where I am in the city!  Thus, this map and the information I entered on it will allow me both to plan every day of my time in Lima but also use the bus system with great confidence and sense of safety. I send my loving kindness thoughts and appreciation to my dear friend for giving me this gift of an exceptionally intelligent “GPS” system.  

Brick laying technique at Huaca Pucllana, called book case technique 

I find Huaca Pucllana very easily. At the ticket line, I discover how much they respect elderly in Peru. Not only here, but at pretty much all museums, they don’t even ask my age or proof for it. Looking at my white hair they assume I am a “mayor” (elderly) and charge me half to 2/3 of the price varying from place to place. The cut-off age is 60, I don’t fight for youth, in 4 months I will turn 60 after all!

 

Temple is surrounded with residential neighborhoods circumferentially

Huaca Pucllana is a pyramid shaped temple dating from 200-700 AD. Around the temple were small villages, the residents of which most likely both provided for the clergy living in the temple and also worshipped here. There is a kitchen where, our mandatory guide tells us the displayed red pots were used to keep potatoes, corn, and even fish. He also tells us the shark remains found here during excavations led to the inference that the fishermen in the surrounding villages must have gone out to sea at least 20-30 miles and fished shark and brought it to the temple.
 

Bones of honorable Wari people have been excavated from designated burial tombs at the temple

 

The walls are interesting: bricks were made mixing the soil with crushed seashells. The bricks were vertically lined side by side with some space every so many bricks, which coined the bookcase technique. On top of one layer of vertically laid bricks, they poured a cement-like mixture to seal the lower layer together. Then they started the process again… He tells us, the huge pyramid we are looking at is solid full of such layers of bricks with no hollow space within. When Waris conquered Lima region, they used this temple to bury their royal people, hence the bones discovered on the site. 

La Mar, one of the most famous cebiche places in Lima, people waiting in line to get in for lunch

 

By the time, I leave Huaca Pucllana, I am hungry and my goal is to find La Mar, the infamous ceviche place in Miraflores. As I approach on foot to the restaurant, I sense that beach culture takes over since we are now much closer to the Miraflores Promenade. La Mar is built on a triangular corner lot with bamboo ceiling. I can’t believe what a busy place this is. One of the consequences of traveling along is I end up eating at the bar quite often, if the restaurant is busy. Sometimes, it is inconvenient, but what can you do?

Bamboo ceiling of La Mar 

This time it turns into a pleasant experience:  I can see first-hand how the waiters are like ants in this restaurant, running around taking orders, delivering orders to the chefs, who are cooking right before my eyes, picking up prepared dishes off the kitchen bar, which is right next to me, how a young cook is coached by his mentor on kneading dough, among other things. I enjoy watching the young cook. He certainly doesn’t use any measures, no surprise there. After kneading his dough, he puts a piece of it in his mouth, decides it needs a bit more liquid, and back to kneading some more.
 

Multiple dishes waiting at the bar, to be picked up by the servers

 

Everybody has a head cover to prevent their hair samples swimming in our food.  My mixed ceviche arrives in no time: It is to die for except for being a tid bit too salty at least to my taste. But otherwise, all flavors so beautifully intermingle; I just can’t get enough of it. The more I enjoy the juice, the better I understand why they serve it with a spoon. When I am done with all the solid ingredients, I spoon all the liquid as well, taking in one month worth of vitamin C! Decision made: I will try a different ceviche at least once a day until I leave this Lima proper.

My first glimpse of the grand Pacific from the entrance to the north end of Melacone, park on the cliffs of Lima 

Now is the time to go to the coast. My plan is to walk all along the coast as far as I can go, knowing that if I go as far as Barranco, there is a bus from Barranco to my apartment.  To my pleasant surprise the park along the coast that CityMap shows happens to be located on top of a very high cliff. This park on the cliffs of Miraflores and Barranco continues for miles. Down below is a highway behind the beach constantly beat up by the energetic surf of the Pacific Ocean. There are multiple trails that switchback down the cliff extending to overpasses bringing joggers, strollers, and runners to the very beach by the ocean.

I will soon position myself at the corner table of this lovely café with full command of the ocean

 

It is an unbelievable scenery, I will take in miles and miles of vistas in both directions all the way from The Punta in the north to Chorrillos in the south. The park is beautifully landscaped, responding to the needs of all people. I pass by a playground for bikers and scooters, who would like to practice high-adrenaline biking and scooting, and it is full of teens. I pass by a light tower, who must still be guiding ships along the coast. Just as I start feeling somewhat thirsty, I come across a café!

I suspect most if not all major languages on earth are represented on this wall 

Cafe la Buena Vista, which certainly rises up to its name: It will turn out to be one of the most pleasant places in all of Lima for me. It is on a small plateau on top of the cliff. At the entrance they have plastered the word coffee in tens of languages, and to my surprise the Turkish “Kahve” is there, too! Unfortunately, the closest they have, to Turkish or Greek coffee, is espresso. Small wooden tables and chairs are hosting quite a few locals. When I get the corner table with a wooden bench, under a tree, I am beyond this world. There is nothing between the ocean and I for miles and miles in both directions.
 

First picture from my corner table at the café: Note the highway down below 

I just give in to the meditative embrace of the ocean dancing with great force down below for miles and miles... There are 5 men/women out in the ocean surfing. Three of them are close by, two are way out beyond where the waves start breaking. The ones closer to the beach get out one by one. Those far away have to wait for the right waves to appear to ride the waves to get to the coast. One is luckier than the last. That one waits and waits, patiently, just like I. I am fixed on him/her. He tries several times with a wave or two, without success.

The brown/black color in fact is not the color of the soil, it is a net covering the entire cliff to prevent falling rocks

Eventually, he catches one, I am sure it is not an easy one to ride since this one is also a very low wave. But it is getting dark and somebody on the beach is constantly whistling to warn the surfers it is time to come out. He finally rides the wave half the distance between himself and the beach and swims the rest. What endurance and patience… I am full of admiration and compassion.

Notice the pinpoint black spots on the water, they are all surfers waiting for the right wave

 

Dusk descends much earlier in Lima. Around 6 pm, it is dark enough and lights start twinkling one by one. As I continue walking along the park, I come across a section surrounded with a beautifully carved low standing wall covered through and through with mosaic glass pieces in all colors. One reason I love Latin America is about colors… On each section of the undulating wall is a phrase of love by some people. When I walk a bit more, I see that this undulating wall is surrounding a huge statue of a man and a woman making love!

El Beso statue in El Parque del Amor: Love Park 

Without knowing it I stumbled upon what I had marked as a place to see in my travel book: El Parque del Amor. Now I am in more of an awe… Quite few of visitors are already following suit and making out in a relatively quieter and darker section of the wall… being young, what a beautiful gift… This walk with this touch, will make today the most sensual part of my trip to Lima. I meander around the man and the woman gently dissolving in each other’s arms at a platform, 20 feet above us. Can’t help but think dusk at Melacone is something else. I never saw any such trail along the water from such an elevation anywhere in the world, not that I have just a few countries left to visit.

What innocence and artistry...

 

Locals call this promanade extending for miles and miles on the cliffs of Lima, Melacone. One not only is pleasantly surprised by what the trail has to offer like this statue, like the café, among others, but can also sense the mighty power of the Pacific even from this distance and occasionally even by hearing the clash between the ocean and the rocks. Waves create large patches of white foam covering an acre or so of the surface of the Pacific with each come and go of the salt water. I can see such wild surf all along the coastal line as far as one can see, all the way to Barranco, perhaps even Chorrillos.

The beautiful undulating wall surrounding the El Beso statue 

Surfers are busy catching and riding the ways. I am curious about what the beach will feel like close-up. I follow the locals down the steps out of the park and onto one of the overpasses, and soon I am on the beach. The beach is nothing like one would find on the Caribbean islands or along the Aegean coast. It consists of potato size stones with larger ones and parts of tree trunks scattered here and there.

To the south of Melacone is Chorillos behind the veil of an unrelenting fog

 

People are using the latter as seats and I follow suit. The young woman sitting next to me on a rock is not moving at all, her eyes closed. Is she meditating just as I am planning to do? I situate myself on the rock and set my intention on taking in as much of the ocean as I can, its scent, its waves, and its sounds… I never heard the ocean breath in so deeply and loudly. One wave crashes on the rocks and as the water recedes, it sounds as if a giant is taking a deep, I mean deep and hoarse breath before she trashes herself against what she’s let go of again with the next wave. I synchronize my breath with that of the ocean’s… Such a lovely dance… Gradually, I close my eyes, as I continue listening to the ocean’s rhythm, I can see what is happening out there with my mind’s eye… This memory will come with me back to Iowa City, for sure…
 

A Japanese school of spirituality said it beautifully

 

When I open my eyes, the young woman is gone, it has gotten a bit darker. I start walking further south, I notice that the lights of the place I want to go to are on, too. La Rosa de Nautica, on a pier, right on top of the water, a very common theme in Turkey. I feel at home instantaneously. I take a picture of a grandmother and her grandchildren in front of the rose wall at the entrance. It appears, it is not only a tradition to take pictures in front of this huge wall covered with fresh rose cuts through and through, but also take one of the roses! I will do the latter on the way out, which will become a gift to myself for the day.

Light Tower in the park 

I order a seabass stew/soup, "delicioso"!!! Again I get a table barely for two  at the very far end of the deck, the place is packed! I am content, as soon as the outdoor heater, which is somewhat blocking my view of the beach is moved to the side, I have the ocean all to myself. By this time of the evening, the breathing pattern of the ocean has calmed down. She is more of a sublime little girl, now, as if moving her skirt this side and the other with a subtle coquettish dance. And the lights from the top of the cliff, shining on her surface take me back to the Aegean one more time… I walk back up the overpass and switchbacks to the top of the cliff.  There are very few people on the trail now, but for some reason, I don’t feel any fear. I know I am quite far away from even the south end of the Salaverry Avenue and I don’t know what route the bus follows past the avenue. But I trust, I will find a way. After I walk to the north end of the park, I get out onto the street and tell a teenage appearing girl, watching a group of other teenagers doing some theatrical show “I want to go to Jesus Maria”. Her response is “Oh, you need a bus.” That would be my next question.

La Rosa de Nautica, where I have my dinner has its lights on by the time I descend to the beach. Notice the huge cross on top of Chorillos hills in the distance

It turns out the bus stop is just two blocks away. On the bus, around 9 pm, I look around, everybody is sweet looking, warm, responsive when ask a question. I feel safe. I like these people… I am so happy I didn’t follow my travel book’s instructions this morning and took the bus. I am grateful that by chance I found the Salaverry Avenue and figured out the bus system. Another grateful “prayer” goes to my dear friend, who gave me the tool of CityMaps app, which keeps me confident and safe.

Pacific energy...
 

Tara Brach’s comments come to mind: When we feel safe, nothing touches us; when we are troubled by others, we need to look what is within. The answer lies there… I so agree with you Tara. Every time I have negative feelings and manage to look deep within, I do find that fear is the mother of all negativity… May all, who experience fear either find the inner courage to dive deeper and understand the origin of their fear, or have loving caring people around them who would look them in the eye as Thich Nhat Hanh suggests, "Darling, I care about your suffering and I am here for you.", because that is when deep healing begins.

If only we could give this gift to everybody we touch, especially those that are closest to us...

 

LIMA - PERU 2018 - 1 - GETTING USED TO LIMA, SOME CULTURE SHOCK...

My second visit to Peru: Last May, I had just flown through Lima to Cusco for a marvelous 6 day trip in the Andeans with Machu Picchu being the unforgettable destination. I knew I had to come back to Peru for at least a few days to dedicate to Lima. I hope I can come back to Machu Picchu with friends, whom I know will enjoy the challenge and beauty before it gets closed to visitors, as rumors have it... Little do I know what another unforgettable trip this will be making me fall in love with Peru, more so Lima.

From unforgettable Machu Picchu in 2017

I am staying at an AirB&B apartment, the location of which I will appreciate much better as the days go on. It is on the 20^th floor of a middle class neighborhood apartment building, which is inhabited mostly by young professionals, looking at the people that I will need to share the elevators with over the next five days I will spend in Lima. I will also learn soon that just as in Bogota, in Lima also, the temperature is pretty much stable around 60-70s. As a result, it neither justifies heating or cooling in the homes! But it is also very humid even in this arid part of Pacific Ocean. Hence, I will have to wear all that I brought in five-six layers to keep warm and on day 2 eventually, my hostess will provide me with a dawn comforter and a space heater to be comfortable in the house!
 

Looking at Lima from the highest point of Barranco, the southernmost part of Lima proper, it is mostly hazy like this...

As soon as I enter the apartment, I check the view after discovering that I am on the top floor of this high rise! The living room looks to the south, thus, all the way to Miraflores is before me in bright city lights. The kitchen balcony is to the north, thus, the lights in that direction must point to the city center. It is interesting, in my travel book, there is no old town description, because, apparently, before the government recognized the touristic importance of the “old town” concept, capitalism had already risen its high rises through all veins of the city suffocating most of the old colonial architecture let alone old old Wari structures. I am still looking forward to going to The Plaza where the Cathedral will be along with other worth-to-visit structures.
 

Looking at the Government Palace from the Cathedral at The Plaza

Bad news about the apartment is there is no hot water. I start my expedition through the hosue and discover that there is a mini water tank above the sink in the kitchen balcony, which has been turned into the laundry. The tank seems to barely hold 5-6 gallons of water. I notice a red handle on the pipe extending between the sink faucet and the tank, which is perpendicular to the pipe. I turn it to parallel the pipe assuming that is when it will allow water to go into the tank, which should allow water from the tank to arrive at the shower head. I know this type of old electric water heaters from Turkey. I check the switch, its handle is down displaying the green above the handle. That must be on. Yet something is wrong, since, although now there is water in the shower, it is cold! I try to have a positive attitude, cold water refreshes the body…
 

THE Cathedral in the Plaza de Arma

Cold shower, relatively cold and damp apartment, and relatively light bed covers are not conducive to good sleep, I discover. I put on socks, a clean pair of tights under my sleep wear and finally drift into sleep. Of course the first thing I do when I wake up is to text my hostess, she is not necessarily quick to respond. At least I learn that the electric switch has to be pushed up to show red, not very intuitive, but I do as I am told. However, half an hour later, there is still no hot water. After a second cold shower, I realize I have to be a bit more demanding. It helps, the next day, I have a space heater, a down comforter, and I learn that it takes hours to heat the water in the tank. After a good hot shower on the third night and sleeping like a baby under warm comforter, I can be much more thankful for all, my hostess has done for me!

First time scene in any big city I have visited: City workers are washing the fences of a park with detergents!

Despite the cold shower of the previous night, I wake up energized and enthusiastically curious on my first morning in Lima. I know that the city center is in walkable distance from where I am. Avenida Arequipa is a north-south bound throughway, I will discover in the coming days carrying working class people to and from the city center, from where they disperse to their neighborhoods after having worked in the touristic businesses of Miraflores… The park with Magic Waterworks borders Arequipa. To my surprise, a team of city workers are washing the green metal fence with detergent at the early hours of the day. I wish I had had good enough command of Spanish to be able to talk to them to understand why that is…

My server Carol at Mango Café happily poses for me in front of the delicious fruits some of which goes into my delicious juga de fruta for my breakfast overture...

I walk eastward before entering the park. It is beautifully trimmed, the locked up part must be where the magic waterworks must be. When I get out of the park, I see a café named Mango Café and stop to have breakfast. A huge glass of fruit juice is my first breakfast in Lima since none of the sandwiches appeals to me. Nothing could be better than the “juga de frutas” that I am already in love with in both Colombia and Peru…

Peru and Lima specifically make well use of gastronomy tourism

As I walk up on Avenida Arequipa, I come across a fenced in area, clearly being prepared for some festive activity, which turns out to be a gastronomia fair. There is a gentleman standing before the gate that is locked, trying to get the attention of men, who appear to be guards. He informs me that the fair will be starting in about half an hour and people will fill the fair ground soon and music will be playing all day long. His name is Elver and I will learn later that he happens to be one of the servers/cooks at one of the booths inside.

I will soon have a delicious slice of this pork belly in a sandwich already grilling in semi-vertical grills

However, the guards will not allow us get in, they want us to walk around the block to get in. Then comes in the force of nature a woman, probably my age, although her hair is as black as it gets. The woman’s fiery argument with the guard melts away his resistance and soon the gate is being unlocked and in a minute all three of us are in! By now I have understood, Elver and the woman are workers at this fair, but Elver is kind enough to invite me in as if I am a worker, too!

Colonial remnant architectural structures like this are scattered all around Lima: most used for public services...

All the vendors are just setting shop, but one of them is earlier than the rest.  This gives me the chance to get a brunch sandwich, which is called chicharron consisting of fried pork belly or fried pork rinds, no wonder it was so “delicioso”. I savor the roasted sweet potato that comes along with it. First time in my life I am eating pork and sweet potato for breakfast!  I will learn in the days to come that they make chicharron out of any meat and poultry…

One of the most impressive pieces from MALI

Before I leave the park, I come across the Museo de Arte de Lima (MALI), art museum. One of the museums I was planning to visit. It is a pleasant surprise that this weekend is independence-day celebrations weekend for Peru and state run museums are free! In addition to numerous pieces laying out the Inca and Colonial history, there are pices, celebrating the diversity in Peru from urban life to rural, from European ancestry to indigenous cultures. They have dedicated an entire section for the silver heritage of the Andeans, specifically.  Interesting piece of information I learned at this museum is that, for the Incas, gold and silver were equally precious metals. Hence, the Plata del Los Andes exhibition is a rival to the Gold Museum I had seen in Bogota.As I leave the museum and walk toward the exit of the park, I come across what looks like multiple bulletin boards put up side by side. They are full of announcements related to art classes for various age groups anywhere from elementary school ages all the way to adults. Que Bueno!

From the Plata de Los Andes exhibition at MALI
 

I gradually walk my way up to the city center, the closer I get the more I come across surprising, hidden samples of Colonial architecture rising humbly but confidently among the high rises almost resting peacefully in their shade. At some point, I come across a bus station very similar to that I had seen in Bogota just a few days ago. The Metropolitano bus system and Tren Electrico are more akin to a subway system above the ground, which works very effectively in Bogota, and here, too, it seems. Although, all travel books will tell you the rest of the big buses, midi-buses, and mini-buses make up a chaotic public transportation system that foreign visitors cannot fathom, my experience will prove otherwise, stay tuned.
 

The words across the side of this bus indicate its route is between Chorillos and San German, and it travels on Avenidas Arequipa and Bolivar. It is very easy to conquer the bus system in Lima...

Finally, there comes a point, car traffic is blocked around the blocks leading to The Plaza Mayor or Plaza de Armas, which is reported to be the birthplace of the city of Lima. It is not as warm as that of its twin in Cusco, which I visited last year, but surrounded by the Government Palace, Cathedral of Lima, Archbishop's Palace of Lima, the Municipal Palace, and the Palace of the Union, it has both significant grandeur and some charm to it.

Limenos checking what art classes may be available for them in front of MALI

Since it is almost 2 pm and Peruvians usually take a long mid-day break, I find the Cathedral doors closed. In front of the cathedral is a local, who is trying to sell a tour to me to other parts of the city center including a tower. My apartment, very close to downtown and on the 20^th floor of a high rise gives me more than what I need, and I decide exploring the city center on foot in and around the Plaza is a better way of spending my time until 3 pm, when the cathedral will open. As I visit several colonial houses, most of which are now housing a variety of museums, I inch my way toward Chinatown to find Wa Lok for lunch.
 

One of the Colonial structures from The Plaza: The brown balcony covers are very similar to the covered bay windows of the Ottoman era, which were used for women to look out without being seen by outsiders!

One of the characteristics of Peruvian cuisine is Chinese influence, or rather Peruvian influence on Chinese cuisine that has created what is called Chifa. Chifa is a fusion of Peruvian and Chinese cuisines, brought to Peru by East Asian immigrants from late 19th to early 20th centuries. These Chinese immigrants that arrived in Peru in 1849 initially worked in coastal sugar plantations and mines and rail road constructions. They integrated South American ingredients such as pineapple and aji amarillo, a paste made from Peruvian yellow chili peppers to their Chinese dishes and volla, chifa was born, which can be found all over the city.
 

From Convento de Santo Domingo de Lima

Wa Lok is a huge restaurant with an army of servers running all around like worker bees. I order dumplings and… They are delicious and the sauces are to die for. When I return, not only the cathedral is open, but there is a mass that has just started. I walk to the front quietly and take a seat to observe the believers. Although, I am not religious a person, I always enjoy observing people in their humble submission to a higher power. If only that power could make their life conditions better, too. Who knows, maybe it changes their reality to such an extent, what seems to be suffering to me is not so much so for a believer; who knows where the truth is…

My light lunch dish at Wa Lok in Chinatown, delicious dumplings and sauces with Peruvian ingredients

The rest of the afternoon, I visit the modern art museum, Inca museum, Afro-Peruvean museum, Museum of Arica War, which apparently is very important in Peru's history, Convent of Santiago where the bones of many dignitary from Inca era was buried and are on display, where I also learn about the details of all ethnicities that one may encounter in Peru, Santa Maria Monastery as well as colonial homes open to visitation such as Casa O'Higgins and Casa Osambela. When it starts getting dark, I find a café just south of the Plaza, where I have my first pisco sour, which is Peruvian national drink, very similar to margarita in taste, along with yucca rolls to close my gastronomic exploration for the day. Ceviche is tomorrow. At the end of the day, my fitbit says I walked 12 miles, my back, knees and feet verify that it is true! I deserve a good rest and sleep.

Pisco Sour, Peruvian national drink and yucca rolls, the latter pretty filling, taste is mediocre..

I close my day by listening to Tara Brach’s talk on "Present Heart: The Universal Expression of Love". She talks about how even the roughest person we encounter has a gold heart deep within. The only reason, their soft core is hidden so deep is because of the amount of pain they have experienced in life. They have built that crust protect that soft core from further pain and suffering. I question myself, how many times I missed seeing that soft core, or even if I had, because of the need to protect my own soft core, how many times I might not have given them a smile, a hug, a word of trust and kindness that they might have desperately needed...

As a gregarious Mediterranean woman, I am learning from wiser friends and Rumi not to trust words that much...

I am thankful to Tara, who reminds me of Rumi's  “Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” As Tara invites us to meditation to look deep within and "Ask yourself, 'what is it, what are the habitual ways of thinking that blocks me from feeling deep love for those that are important for me?' Are you afraid, are you defensive, do you have a need to control others, without judgment, just recognize what the barrier is between you and love..." As I have felt freed so many times from all the above, in the last several years, her words hit in me a central cord, tears are rolling down my face, cleansing-ly...

How ethnic mixing has been occurring in South America

Bones of dignitary at the Convent of Santa Domingo

 

Chinatown

 

Casa Osambela

 

Casa Osambela