I arrive in Lima, sans backpack

Today is my fourth day in Lima--one more to go, then I´m headed up to Huaráz and the Cordillera. So where to start? How about the facts.

When I arrived in Los Angeles to catch my connecting flight to Lima (via Santiago Chile) on Tuesay afternoon, my backpack was nowhere to be found-- well, it could be found in San Francisco. So I continued with just the lid of my pack. In Santiago, I learned that my three hour layover had turned into a 23 hour layover. I managed to get on an earlier flight and spent only six hours in Santiago. Finally, I arrived in Lima 26 hours after I had left San Francisco. That was a long time in airports and in planes.

So the next step was to rendevouz with the people I had arranged to stay with--to make a long story short, my uncle (hi Chris!) recently hired a woman from Lima, and I'm staying with her family right now. So I called the house: no answer. Oh well, I thought, I´d just show up and present myself. Taxi!

No one's home. I talk with the people in the little store across the way--they hadn't seen the family in a while. The neighborhood security guards weren´t sure when Lili or Donald (mother and son) would be back. So I sat in the store across the way for an hour and a half before leaving a note and finding another taxi to downtown, where I would find a bed for the night.

So picture this: I am missing my backpack, have nowhere to stay, and it is getting dark in a unfamiliar and dangerous city. But in the end, everything ended well--I found a safe (if smoky and grimy) room, ate, and slept for fourteen hours. The next day, I made my way to the South American Explorers Clubhouse where I read about Lima and tried to track down my bag. (No luck.) I left a couple of messages with the people I was going to stay with, but was never sure I had the right phone number because the answering machine just gave a number, but not a name to me. I was quite worried because I had arranged to have my bag delivered to this family in Lima, and if I couldn't find them, I was going to be in big trouble.

So I went to the house again Thursday evening, and this time, they were home! (I dislike exclamation marks, but really, this sentence deserves one.) I was welcomed like family, and I've been treated like another son/brother ever since. I slept for fourteen hours again--all the stress had made me tired. Unfortunately, my bad hadn't been delivered (American Airlines had told me it had been) so my emotions where rather mixed: I was safe and warm (I´ve never enjoyed the basics like I have this week), but my backpack, with everything for the next three months, was still missing. To boot, I had been lied to about its status--something was fishy and a little sinister.

The next morning, I called American Airlines in the US--they insisted it had been delivered and wanted to file a second claim. I just wanted my bag, so I called their office in the Lima airport. They had it, they said, but I still wasn't convinced. So I went to the airport, where I found my backpack, still intact! (Once again, this sentence totally deserves special punctuation.)

So, you ask, what else have I done since arriving other than wander around lost, sit on doorsteps, and hassle American Airlines? Well, I've seen a lot of beautiful buildings. I´ve taken a lot of fast, cramped microbuses all over the city. I've surprise the locals by speaking Spanish. (They´re used to monolingual Americans.) I've gotten to know the people I;m staying with, both of whom I now consider friends. I've talked with lots of Peruvians. I've visited the world´s largest installation of fountains, complete with lasers and classical music. (It's straight out of Fantasia. Google "Lima Fountains" and you´ll see what I mean.) I went (along with thousands of Peruvians) to see "El Senor de Milagros" (a sculpture of Christ on the cross, so called because praying in front of it has lead to several miracles) on its annual trip around the block. Basically, I've gotten way the hell out of my comfort zone and had a damn good time.

Every once and a while, I get chills and a big smile creeps onto my face--that's me realizing what I'm doing here: exactly what I want to do. Every day is new and uncertain, but uncertainty is hardly a bad thing. It just makes for more opportunities.

I'm out of Lima tomorrow evening on a night bus to Huarzáz, where I'll do some trekking and then head down through the Andes, eventually reaching Cuzco. I think I'll be in the old Inca capital in about three weeks, but I'll probably write before then.

Hasta proximo.