A few of us had planned to visit Chan-Chan (historical site) Wednesday morning but one of us got sick so the plan fell through. Not liking the prospect of spending my whole morning sitting around the house, I decided to go check out the nearby beach town of Huanchaco and inquire about surfing lessons.
All I've been hearing is how careful I have to be in Peru. Apparently, in one way or another, EVERYONE is out to get me. I'm not a careless traveler, but I tend to dismiss those warnings as Western paranoia. Unlike other countries I have been to where the locals reassure you that their country is safe, Peruvians reinforce the idea of Peru being unsafe. In La Esperanza, people are constantly reminding me that going places alone is 'peligroso'. Granted, we live in a very poor area that is surely not the safest, but those people seem to extend the concept to the whole country.
My first night here I took a taxi to a grocery store with Alyssa and Rebecca, two other volunteers here. The driver promptly asked us why we weren't accompanied and told us that he was okay but the other taxi drivers were bad people. According to the girls who've been here a few months now, all taxi drivers like to remind us gringos that all other taxi drivers are crooks. Yet, locals will readily advise us to take taxis because the bus operators and those who ride the bus are also all out to get you. Even more so.
But obviously I find taxis a little dull. Given the choice, I'd much rather ride a bus and try to blend in with the locals. Plus, even though a cab ride to Huanchaco costs only 9 Peruvian Nuevos Soles (roughly 3$) each way, the bus is cheaper (2.5 PNS). So when our Chan-Chan plans fell through, I walked to the main street on a mission to figure out how the bus and combis (large vans that pack in as many people as humanly possible) work. I had no idea what I was doing so I asked a combi passing by if it went to Huanchaco and was told I was waiting on the wrong side of the street. A guy about my age heard as he was getting off that combi and began talking to me as we crossed the street. He was kind of mumbling and I didn't get much of what he was saying, but I heard 'cuidate'. He, too, was reminding me to be careful. He waited with me on the other side, told me which combi to get on and my driver where I needed to stop. Although the driver forgot, the girl behind me gently tapped my shoulder to let me know my stop was up. I had to transfer to an actual bus and had no problems then either.
In Huanchaco, I walked along the boardwalk and watched the surfers. I ventured into a surf shop to ask about lessons and ended up talking with Lucho, one of the instructors, for over an hour. We spoke about surfing, but also other things. It was good Spanish practice and it felt good to speak with a local outside the organization I am working for. As I walked back toward the buses I ran into another surfing instructor, Yoel, who I had seen pop into the shop earlier so I talked with him too. Both were very friendly and they gave me a good price for lessons. I start tomorrow.
The way back home was a bit trickier. The bus was fine, but after getting off, I had to ask a few people before I understood where to wait for the combi back to La Esperanza. The bigger problem was that once I got on, I realized that I didn't know where to stop. The streets still all look the same to me and street signs simply do not exist in this part of the world. I knew the name of my street but it was parallel to the one the combi drives on and I couldnt remember my adress which would have been useful to know which block was mine. I also had no idea what the intersecting street was. Again, locals helped me out.
I asked two guys on the bus, giving them the completely wrong address. I have no idea why but I thought that it *might* be 35. They informed me that there is no such thing as 35 on this street. Who knows where I got 35 from. I later found out that my address is actually 1876. I got off the combi with them and we walked up to my street. I knew I was on the right street but had no idea how far or which way to go. For a moment I thought maybe I really shouldn't have been wandering here alone, but then I remembered that the address could easily be found online. The boys took me to the nearest internet cafe where the owner let me check the adress without even charging me. The boys walked me in the right direction and after a block or two, I spotted the collegio that I walk to every morning to teach. I told them I could find my way now, but they wanted to make sure I made it back. Or maybe they just didn't understand me. Or maybe they wanted to know where I lived to carry out their evil plans, but I don't believe that one bit. Despite all the warnings, my experience with Peruvians so far has been that they are all very friendly and happy to help out if needed. As a major city, Lima is surely different. However, I've seen nothing to lead me to think that the rest of the country is really as dangerous as it is made out to be.
-S xo
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