Follow that fish!

One of my favorite things about living in Lima is that I have no clue what I’ll see when we are out and about.


Perhaps we’ll see parrots flying around the park. Or at the running track in Barranco. Or in apartment windows. Or at artisans’ workshops.


I know we will see dressed-up dogs. To what extent they are dressed up - and for what purpose (a doggie birthday party? doggie expo? out for a walk?) - are the surprise elements. Once I saw a woman on the bus reading the paper, and the important news about how to “protect him from the cold” caught my eye.

We will most likely see women or groups of girls posing for what we call "glamour shots" against any type of background: the ocean, gym equipment, the wall in the pool's changing room.


Perhaps we will see a giant blood drop, dancing and doing tai chi with a group of women in the park, to promote a blood drive. Or wheelchairs converted into motorized tricycles to ride along the bike lane on the malecón. Toddlers "driving" their own giant battery-operated cars through the park with the car radio going full blast. 


Maybe the guy who makes keys in his tiny kiosk on the sidewalk will pause to play chess with the car repair guy next door. Or surfers will ride by on bikes with special racks above their heads for their boards. Maybe we’ll be squeezed in, on the bus, next to a surfer with his board.


Stopping at the skate park on the malecón is a normal part of a walk. Once we got to see an adorable little kid getting a lesson while wearing a Batman cape. A cape for Simon was in the back of my mind beforehand and seeing that little kid fly around moved it front and center.


Another bonus of the skate park is when there are little kids who can’t climb out of the skate bowl on their own and need help to get out. These three boys were posted at the side of the bowl to pull everyone out during a lesson.

Skateboards in traffic isn’t necessarily strange anymore, it’s now just another mode of transport. And then I saw a 30-ish dad pushing his daughter’s stroller while on his skateboard (on the sidewalk, thankfully). Nice!


That was later topped by a 20-ish guy riding down the sidewalk in his adult-sized, custom-made Big Wheel. At least he didn't have his 6-month-old child balanced on a little "seat" on the handlebars as many other adults do.

Maybe we’ll see marathon runners sprinting through the middle of an all-night open air art exhibition.

Or ceramic body parts coming out of walls as we walk down a side street.

Doors that don’t lead anywhere.

Mannequins dressed, or undressed, in interesting garb.

People using the bicycle carts to transport incredibly large loads down busy streets...

… and small trucks with incredibly large loads driving off of the sidewalk.

Sunday mornings seem to be the day for competitive runs down our street or down the malecón just behind us. So seeing large groups of people dressed in running attire, accompanied by chanting and drumming, isn’t exactly strange anymore. But one Saturday afternoon as we walked back from the malecón, we saw a large group of people, a seemingly endless flow, walking slowly down our street. As we got closer we realized they were zombies. We stopped and watched and eventually figured out that they were walking to the stadium several blocks past our apartment. A guy walked by, taking pictures. “Why is everyone dressed like zombies?” I asked him. “Why not?” he smiled. Good answer.


When we travel to the eastern edge of town, we see a fake soldier “guarding” a sand dune. Apparently this is a holdover from the Sendero Luminoso terrorist violence in the 80s-90s; once they poisoned Lima’s water supply and so now there is a very fake guard posted near the water station to deter any subsequent actions.

When we visited Huancayo, we noticed that the traditional dress for the indigenous mountain people we see sporadically in Lima (and saw more frequently in and around Cuzco) was still in full force there. Women wear their hair in two long braids and covered with a top hat, a full skirt, and warm leggings when cold. The bus stops in Huancayo celebrate this in their design: the roof is a top hat, the sides are two giant braids connected to the ground.

We went to the zoo and saw tigers, lions, zebras, giraffes, owls, monkeys, and many parrots. We saw people FEEDING AND PETTING (!!!!) animals. And we saw a ferocious kitty hanging out in someone else’s habitat.

At Parque Kennedy, it is a given that we will see dozens of cats. Sometimes they are in trees. Once we saw a kitty rescue operation, complete with a tall ladder, security guards, dozens of people gathered, calling out to the cat, and one brave soul who stood on his tiptoes on the top of the ladder and finally grabbed the cat around its neck. He brought the cat down, onlookers cheered, some people petted the cat. They finally let the cat go. It darted away from the crowd.... and promptly ran up another tree.


Mototaxis can fit three people, squeezed into the backseat.  I’ve also seen two mototaxis completely laden with mattresses on the top and on the back, with the backseat filled to the brim with pillows. Or they can transport gigantic loads of lumber, complete with protruding nails.

Vendors sell unsurprising things while walking in between cars and buses at stoplights: soda pops, snacks, newspapers. But they also sell car decals and Q-tips. Who knows when you’ll need an emergency ear cleaning?


And finally, my favorite so far... We were taking a taxi to the airport verrrrry early one morning. Ahead of us was something large that appeared to be falling out of the back of a taxi. We craned our heads to look. It was a fish. A fish!

I thought I must be too sleepy yet, since this seemed a little improbable – a fish being dragged along the highway – but our taxi driver knew what we were exclaiming at and quickly darted through traffic, positioning ourselves right behind the car so we could see it up close. Someone's ceviche special for the day? Yum... I think.

Dressed-up dogs, Peruvian style

I am finally blind enough to the dressed-up dog phenomenon that it takes a really dressed-up dog, perhaps also color-coordinated with its owner, to make me laugh and remember to tell Sam. I feel like we’ve seen it all, including a doggie birthday party for 8 tiny chihuahuas, all dressed in pink and purple dresses, complete with cake and presents. But I still have a lot to learn about the extent to which Peruvians will go to to doll up their dogs.

Case in point: Simon and I went to the park on the malecón one Sunday morning to escape church. We could see that something huge was about to happen: lots of booths were set up, a large video screen was broadcasting, there were large, cordoned off areas, people were gathering. Maybe Peru was playing in the World Cup playoff series...? I couldn’t figure out why else they would have a giant screen.

Oh, because it was the Master Dog CanFest. That screen was to broadcast all the doggie tricks! People were lined up near the sign to “make your dog a star” and one by one would take the stage to cajole their dog into doing whatever trick they do at home. All of the dogs, however, were too distracted by all the other canines and their own image on the giant screen to do much more than walk in circles or run off the stage.

The stage, complete with loud music while the dogs "performed" and a Master Dog commercial repeated 4-5 times in between each dog "trick"

I saw dogs wearing strands of pearls. Taffeta dresses with tulle. Full body sweatshirts. Overalls. Army fatigues.

Leather booties!

It's not just women who doll up their dogs... men are definitely equal participants in this craziness! 

Plaid is always a nice fashion choice, especially in fall.

You could buy your dog any number of outfits at various booths. You could purchase costumes for Halloween or whatever other opportunity exists to put dogs into princess outfits and Spiderman costumes. 

I think I'm partial to the cowboy getup, complete with holsters for my pup's pistols.

You could have your dog’s professional photo taken or portrait drawn. You could talk to someone about ways to go on adventure trips with your dog, like camping, canoeing, or hiking.

For a couple of hours, Simon and I were enthralled. While I’m hoping that this is as extravagant as it gets, I have learned my lesson and am prepared for a thousand-dog-strong parade, complete with catwalk and music. One can only hope.

Our home is a temple, kind of

Some people say their home is a temple. Ours actually is, although it doesn’t look like it. Our apartment shares space with an evangelical church which has loud, exhuberant services on Sunday mornings and Wednesday and Friday nights.

Our apartment and the church together make up the first floor of Roberto and Christina’s house, but we rent the apartment from Manos Amigas. Our apartment used to be their office until they built a giant warehouse across the street and moved their operations there. They used the church and Sunday school room for packing, which was a nice way to constantly use the space.

The layout is such that the church has two rooms: a converted single car garage which shares a wall with our apartment, and a room with a bathroom and tables and chairs for Sunday school... which looks into our bedrooms. 

The first Sunday after we moved in to the apartment, I was surprised when I walked into our bedroom and saw Sunday School going on, several feet away.

The view from Simon's room: the bathroom

Since the garage is not used for a car but for the sanctuary, Roberto and Christina’s car is parked in what might have previously been a small garden space directly in front of our apartment, close enough that Simon and Giuseppe make faces to each other, Simon in our apartment, Giuseppe inside the car. 

Waving goodbye to Giuseppe

When there is someone at church with strong perfume or cologne, and there often is, we can smell it instantly. When they clean with bleach, we get the fumes, since there aren’t many places for those fumes to go, save our apartment.

And so it is with the noise, too: while people are praying, singing, drumming, crying, shouting, and sobbing, it’s as if they are in the kitchen with us. It is disconcerting at times; it can be downright annoying at others, such as at Simon’s bedtime on Wednesdays and Fridays while drumming and loud, off-key singing ricochet through our apartment.

Simon and I used to escape on Sunday mornings and go swimming at the municipal pool in Barranco. But now it’s winter and the pool is closed for the season. So we make up other adventures for Sunday mornings. Last week we were en route to a park and passed a Catholic church. Simon stopped, parked himself on the sidewalk, and watched the priests do complicated things up at the altar. Maybe he wants to be in church more than I do!

Our little church-goer

The best part about living in this apartment is the proximity to Giuseppe. Simon hears the lock turning for Giuseppe to go to school, and he bolts over to the door to say hi and show him a book or toy. They giggle and poke each other through the bars while Christina loads the car and unlocks the car door. Giuseppe likes to put various stuffed animals on Simon’s head, which Simon thinks is the funniest thing ever. Then he’s off to school and Simon resumes breakfast, satisfied at several minutes with his friend.

The harder parts have been no access to outdoor space (usually solved by walking to a park), internet issues (Mario likes to randomly turn off our internet at critical times), and privacy (such as during several house projects, like painting the house and refinishing the bars on the windows, which have made me feel a little claustrophobic at times).

The workers used the parking space as their work area when they chipped off all of the paint - by hand - off of all of the bars from the windows. This took about three weeks, from start to finish, and was slightly awkward for them and us the entire time.

When the house was painted, the scaffolding blocked our door for a day or so. Yannina had warned us, saying, "don't worry, you can just crawl through." Luckily every time we needed to exit or enter, the painter moved the scaffolding slightly to allow us to slip in or out.

Can you imagine painting like this?! Not only had he been painting while standing on half of a ladder, unsecured, propped up on the scaffolding, but here he is holding on to the bars on the windows while he paints around them!

While there are many, many things I will miss about living in Peru, our apartment and its attendant issues are not among them. It’s been perfect for this year, but I will love returning to our backyard and the peaceful quiet - every single day and night of the week - of our neighborhood.

Warning: dangerous cuts ahead

Simon needed a haircut. My last few attempts to give him one had resulted in him crying and hating the whole process… not to mention a really lopsided cut. I decided to take him to one of the official little kid haircut salons, even though the cost was outrageous.

At 38 soles a cut (roughly $14, high for this market), I would expect a massage, a free gift, or something spectacular. Sam’s and my haircuts are only 11 soles at the neighborhood peluquería a couple of blocks away… but then again, we are pretty cheap. (Whether we are cheap enough to try out the one I saw yesterday for a rock-bottom five soles a cut is up in the air.)

My rationale for forking over soles galore was that they would know what they were doing. And they did! It was worth every sol. Simon was fascinated in his little car, looking at his cute self in the mirror, never once squirming, complaining, or being anything less than enthralled. 

Simon now spots the kiddie haircut cars at random spots, tries to climb into them, and mimics scissors cutting his hair. He actually asked to get his hair cut the other day. I am ready to swear allegiance to this kiddie salon. 

Sam isn’t, however. A couple of weeks ago, he found a peluquería with kiddie cars in Barranco for seven soles. “Let’s go there next time,” he suggested.

One of my favorite parts of Simon’s haircut involved a seatbelt. In nearly every taxi we have ever been in here, the seatbelts don’t exist, fit, or have the necessary other half. Maybe, as the bus driver illustrates below, the critical part is to just have it draped across your midriff.

Yet Simon's little car had a well-fitting seatbelt, and he was carefully strapped in before his cape was velcroed on.

Seatbelts for haircuts is such a brilliant idea. I hate getting my hair cut and tend to panic halfway through each one. But with a seatbelt (and maybe a pisco sour), perhaps the experience would be a calmer one.

We’ll check out the Barranco barber for Simon’s next cut… if there are seatbelts. Do you think they would notice if I brought my own flask with me? More importantly, do you think they would let me sit in the kiddie car? 

Construction zone

Lima is in the middle of a construction boom, and in the blocks near our home, the construction sites are mostly apartment buildings in various states of completion. Due to the frequent earthquakes, Lima has a regulation that buildings cannot be taller than 30 floors. Still, this provides for some tall buildings to watch as they are built, floor by floor.

I get scared just seeing them build; look at them, balanced on a board, putting in rebar! 

This is a closer view in case the earlier photo was not spine-tingling enough.

Simon has really developed a love of construction equipment while here, including making up his own signs for certain things like buckets (they are always two, on a pulley system, and so his sign is using both hands, one high, the other low, and then switching their places) and bulldozers (he pushes out one hand like the bulldozer pushes out its shovel).

Buckets, take 1

Buckets, take 2

A backhoe was parked near our apartment while the driver took a nap inside the cab... Simon seized the opportunity to try out the loader. 

My parents gave Simon a little excavator, which has been a huge hit (as you may have guessed from earlier posts), especially on artisan visits or at mealtimes at restaurants when we linger longer than we would at home. There are so many things to put in the loader and move around, like lots of coins or rocks. 

The excavator (and juice) buying us time to enjoy a coffee

The excavator buying us time at an artisan's workshop

They also brought Simon a cool book about 100 different trucks which is helping me to increase my vocabulary so I don't keep stammering, "look at that, uh, truck" or "the thing that moves dirt". It's been fun to see how Simon now notices a whole new class of trucks as a result, like tow trucks and impact hammers.

A regular activity with Simon is to go on a walk to check out various construction sites. Watching excavators fill trucks with dirt and rocks, or workers filling wheelbarrows with cement, then wheeling them to the elevators running the backbone of the building's skeleton, or cement trucks piping in the next wall or floor layer: there is always something fascinating going on. 

Relaxing on the sidewalk, watching the construction show

Once, while we were traveling through the Sacred Valley and enjoying seeing intricate ruins and gorgeous landscapes, I was recounting the day’s adventures with Simon as we were winding down for his nap. He bolted upright and mimicked an excavator’s scooping and dumping, reminding me that not only had we seen an excavator working, but that it had been working in the middle of a river. How could you forget that, Mom? That was the highlight of the day!

While Simon likes to check out what equipment is in use at each one, I like to inspect the signs. 

I pretend that these signs mean that the construction workers take frequent breaks to do aerobics, or at least that it is a caution to be aware that construction workers may break out with a dance move while shoveling dirt. 

I suppose it's just the orientation on this one... but they almost never have it oriented so that the worker is leaning over; he's always busting a dance move with the shovel!

This is another favorite. Doesn’t it look like they are reminding people of a rule to wear underwear? Or perhaps underwear with suspenders?

If there were no accompanying text, I could convince myself that it were true, instead of being about a safety harness.


I also like these. Some joker with a stencil flower put flowers in and around the various signs at this site.

I can think of a certain husband who might benefit from the one below as a street sign, to aid in avoiding tripping over curbs.

I just like this sign, what with the drama of the slipping person.

The construction boom is far more dependent on manual labor than in the States. An example: to move a pile of bricks, there is a chain set up of perhaps 15 men. One picks up a brick from the pile and tosses it to the next man, who tosses it to the next, and so on. The bricks move slowly from outside on the street to inside the construction area. They make it look effortless, as if they were tossing pillows around. These men are strong. And yes, it’s always men. I have yet to see a woman as a worker on a construction site. 

Another example of manual labor: note that there is a ramp of boards set up against the dumpster. This dumpster was slowly filled, wheelbarrow load by wheelbarrow load.

I'm not sure what the safety standards are... this worker is standing on a board, which is balanced on two ladders, drilling holes into a concrete wall. 

I'm secretly hoping that one of these days someone will invite us in and let us sit in the cab of the excavator while it moves around and does exciting things. Did I say Simon was fascinated by the construction sites? I suppose it is rubbing off on me, too... I want to operate the excavator!