As I flew out of Miami, I had no idea what the next day would hold. I had read to fear the streets of Lima to a degree but I was going into this with an open mind. I boarded a plane that was the biggest I had been on. I have been so used to the small Canadian North and First Air flights that I have taken in and out of Iqaluit. I sat in the middle row, cuddled up to a middle aged Peruvian woman and her sister. They were very friendly but as they started to ask me questions and lift their brows at my responses, I began to worry. "Oh, so your travelling alone?" "No one is picking you up?" "You have a camera on you?" They saw the blank look on my face and broke down with a stream of well wishes and good advice, including but not limited to: Don't take the cabs that approach you outside. Hide your camera. Keep your money inside of your shirt. Be aware at all times.
I had paid for an airport transfer but didn't know if it would be there for me. It had never been confirmed. I came out into the airport and it hit me, the lack of Canadians that surrounded me. I was in a foreign land, all by myself. I had wanted this, afraid to do it, I had faced that fear by not allowing myself the time to reconsider. I had picked up the phone, called a girl named Stephanie and had her sign me up for this insane trip through the highlands of Peru that would take me from Lima all the way into the Amazon Jungle and back. Here I was, with very minimal Spanish under my belt, I walked forward, following the crowds. It was just after one in the morning and I was surprised to see so many people. I have become rather accustomed to the small town charm of Iqaluit's airport. I joined the herds through a checkpoint that sporadically decided whether or not your bags were to be rummaged through. I got off with a scan of my very adventurous looking back pack.
I walked out through the doorway, expecting to follow signs to the outdoors but instead I ran into a mob, fenced off, hundreds of people screaming other peoples names and waving signs in the air. Everyone trying for your attention. I am a woman who likes small and quiet scenes, this pumped my blood faster, overwhelming me with anxiety. One woman saw the hesitation in my eyes. A small Peruvian woman who I didn't see before she called my name. "Melissa Davis." She had a smile on her face, she would be the first person I would meet in Peru. I blurred out the vision of everyone around me, ponied up and walked straight to her. Missing the first few sentences out of her mouth, I smiled and nodded in attempt to calm myself and join reality. Her name started with an 'M,' something short and Spanish. I felt awful for my lack of attention, she was very kind. She offered more advice and left me in a van with a man who spoke next to no English. He taught me to say "I'm sorry." I used it every time he asked me a question that I didn't understand. I didn't know how long we drove for, I just watched in awe as the lights and buildings passed outside. I wasn't in North America anymore, and South America conveys a whole different feeling.
When we pulled up at the Hotel Brittania in Mira Flores, Lima, it was after two in the morning and I was eager to seek the refuge of a quiet hotel room and gather my thoughts. The sky was dark, the streets noisy and the air was warm and slightly sticky, like a summer night in Ontario.The woman at the front desk told me that my room mate hadn't arrived yet. I had thought I would be the latest to arrive.
I encountered my first toilet that I couldn't throw toilet paper into, took a shower and I crawled into bed, setting two alarms, unsure of the real time in Peru. I got up a dozen times in the night to lock the door because I was timid, and unlock the door because I didn't want to miss the knocks of my room mate when she eventually did arrive.
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| The morning veiw from my room in Lima |
Vittoria walked through the door at six in the morning, a thin Italian girl from Niagara Falls, Ontario. What were the odds? She was only a year older than me with long curly brown hair and she managed a smile even after the long travel day filled with delays. As the sun came up, the City came alive. I was awaken by the consistent honking of car horns but drifted in and out of sleep. We slept until nine and woke up to get better acquainted over breakfast and find some of our fellow travellers.
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| My first encounter with the famous Inca Kola and delectable breakfast fruits |
We met Roland downstairs, he must have known who we were by the lost tourist looks on our faces. He was one of our two tour leaders. He brought us down to breakfast where we met most of the rest of our group of 15. We shook hands, not realizing that some of these people would become our dear friends and that most of these people, were people we would never forget. I had met my family for the rest of the month.
Original Comments:
Anonymous said...
How did it taste?
I just read your entire archive and was thrilled to see the grand plans that lay ahead for you and your future...my sincere congrats!!
Keep the blog updated, I think your life course would be a great book that many would want to read.
I'll check in often.. Regards from MIchigan
