In Peru I am tall. I have to duck to see myself in the mirror in bathrooms, I crouch down to be seen through peepholes in doors, and if I want to wash my hair, you got it, I have to bend at the waist in the shower. I have slept on beds where my feet hang of the end and ducked going through doorjambs.
In Peru I can speak Spanish. I always felt hopelessly handicapped unable to speak Spanish. I tried buying books, CD´s, and downloading podcast. Didn´t work. Scoured the web for a pill I could take that would enable me to learn Spanish. Couldn´t find one. What about a direct upload to my brain like in the Matrix? Dosen´t exist yet. What does work though, is complete immersion. When you need food, a place to sleep, or something to drink. You learn how to say it. When you are cold, need a bus ticket, or want to thank someone for going out of their way for you. You learn it. When you need to buy more stomach medication from the Pharmacy, ask someone what the name of a fruit you just ate is so you can find it again, or negotiate a cab ride. You learn it. When need the ball passed to you because your open, want your picture taken in front of gigantic rock, or want ask someone to dance. You learn it. It´s an amazing feeling to be able to communicate, be understood, and understand a new language, and it´s accompanying culture.
In Peru I successfully sweet talked and bribed a border guard. With an expired Visa, I new I would I need to pay $1 for each day I was late leaving the country. What I didn´t know was I was supposed to do this at a Bank and bring the recite to the border patrol office. Sitting in the corner at 1:30 in the morning, while the rest of people on the bus sailed through immigration and facing the possibility of my bus continuing on to Ecuador without me, inspired some quick thinking. Sweat dripping down my forehead, "I understand I need to pay the bank $1 for each day I was late leaving the country, but I also heard (Strong eye contact here) I could pay double at the actual border, and everything would be okay." Hint of a smile on his face, "You know what son, I heard that too. Why don´t we get you back on that bus."
In Peru I have eaten Chicken hearts on a stick, scooped up a chicken foot that was hiding at the bottom of my soup bowel, and tasted a chicken kidney. Chewed on an Alpaca, and had french fries with my Guinea Pig. I have accepted dinner invitations from strangers, gotten into cars with people I barely even know, and partied for two days in a row with people I did. I have learned to tell time by the sun and clouds, have lost all desire for hot showers, and can´t finish a meal without a cup of tea.
A view from my Hostal in Mancora, Peru where I have been for the last few weeks. Yes, the ocean is that close. Yes, you can throw a rock at it it´s so close. Yes, you can hear the waves at night while you are sleeping. Yes, they served fresh cerviche everyday for $1.50
