Our last night in Lima we tried to find the bar with the brawl again since it was comfy and cheap and they treated /us/ right at least. We found this bar that was so exactly the same it was hard to tell if we were at the same place or not, but it definitely was different.
At 8pm the nightlife is dead in Peru, the bar was empty except for one Limeno, Marceille, with entirely too much energy. He was all excited because his band was going to be playing in two hours, so he sat us down. He didn´t speak English, but he had one phrase down, ¨In Lima we drinka the Pisco eSour!!!!¨ Pisco´s the national liquor by the way, made from grapes. Seemed like a good idea, we tried to make our own Pisco Sour earlier and it went poorly, so we were game. I thought the scam was going to be to get us drunk so we´d pay a cover charge for his band.
So the drinks took forever to arrive, and meanwhile he´s teaching us all sorts of trendy spanish and building up our egos and stuff. Eventually we each get pitchers of Pisco Sour, but half of it is foam egg whites, and then a shot of Pisco on the side. We´re blown away, and I asked the waitress how much it cost like 3 times, and the answer was, ¨it´s a big drink.¨ There´s also this geezer guy helping with serving, his teeth look blackened in the centers, and I never understood a word he said.
So we learned a toast wiht Marceille,
-Arribar! (upstairs, raise glass)
-Abajo! (downstairs, hit table)
-Al centro (*hit glasses*)
-Al dentro (down the hatch)
We moved inside, I chatted up the cute waitress who wouldn´t answer how much the drinks cost. She was 21, from Trujillo--where we were going in hours. I could have learned a lot from her, but she was the weakest person in the scam, so I was scolded by Marceille for talking to her, and told to sit down and help translate again for my buddies and some heated business going on.
We finished out pitchers and ordered a round of beers, nobody said Pisco Sour not at all, just cerveza, eye-to-eye with cute girl. Despite this, she came back with another three pitchers! It was a first for me, sending drinks back. Then we got our beer and said we had to go. The bill came, 400 soles even!!! $133 is not a legit bar tab for this country.
Our hostal was 50 soles a night for two people, no way I was paying 88 soles per pitcher of pisco sour at a cowboy bar! Good god, if we had accepted that second round, who knows where we´d be.
So the post-consumption bartering began, which is a less traditional form of bartering, kind of like not paying your landlord the rent. We got it down to S/312 since they had a fourth pitcher on there at least. We chugged the rest of our beers and went out to the balcony to smoke, which was a bad move. At least out there I had a minute alone to hide most the cash.
At the same time as all this, there was an amusing subplot happening. He had asked us in the beginning if we were all single, and when we hit the balcony our surprise secret prostitute arrived. Either that or an attractive Peruana girl who was really into us at an empty bar. Marseille hesitated a second introducing her, how would you introduce a prostitute to gringos without hurting anyone´s feelings? So I thought I´d take the chance to make it as awkward as possible and said, ¨hey, is that your girlfriend?!¨
So theres some talking and smoking and the new bill arrives, which was a total buzzkill, along with the geezer, and the cute waitress. Everyone´s shoulder to shoulder in the doorway, so we´re boxed in on the balcony. I´m sure my broken spanish was off the hook here, it was my third day in the country, and I had just learned the word for 80 that morning, so that came in mighty handy. The geezer didn´t say much, and I continued to understand none of it. They showed us a fake menu with the 88 soles price.
So we start pulling out cash. We got up to S/136 or so, and four US dollars. They were nice enough to say, $20 USD more and you´re set, but this was still a ripoff already. I like to leave my mark on things and improve the world as I go, so I don´t want to spoil them and let them think this half assed scam works, especially on their biggest customer of the spring. Also, I wasn´t going to brawl over $20 unless they started it. I´m quite a wuss, but we all are bigger than them. It´d be three on six+, Marseille, the geezer, 100lbs waitress, prostitute (or are they neutral?), and two ten year olds who are really 16. I also saw a sickly looking rastafarian guy and girl in a back hallway earlier.
Anyways, tons of awkward silence, neither side wanted to budge, so I thought I´d follow Tisko´s advice, baseball is the great equalizer. Any two people can set aside their differences and talk about baseball. I noticed the geezer had a White Sox hat! I´m obviously a diehard Brewers fan, so what do we have in common? We both hate the Cubs!! Anything to take a break from this situation. I don´t know the word for hat, so I pointed at the logo, too close for comfort because he grabbed my wrist out of the air and did some shouting. Probably something about the White Sox´ season or something, I dunno.
So after some more awkward silence we were finally allowed to leave. Tailing us about 10 seconds behind on the street was the cute waitress, probably to go change in the four US dollars so they could all split the pot.
Well, I´m still sick but functioning now. Went for a run today, and I might even manage to eat three meals, up from zero four days ago. I´m thinking of taking this microbiology experiment on the road either tomorrow or the next day to Cusco, where I can finally assemble my bike. 20hr bus ride!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Prostitutes and Cocheras
I definitely have entirely the wrong audience to write about prostitutes, meaning my coworkers and my family, but I´m going to do it anyways.
This city has its share, and they´re all over, enough that you´ll run across them just going about your normal business. The first set were in the pricey nighlife district, Miraflores. Just two girls with the softest voices, one said Hi and cocked her head next to a taxi stand. Then ¡Vamos! as we walked away.
The third set was my favorite, we made good friends with them! We went to the bus station about three hours early because our last bar experience went poorly, I´ll get to that later. While the driver was dropping us off he said, ¨It´s really secure here¨ even though we didn´t ask. I learned later either that neighborhood or Callao, by the airport, were the most dangerous in Lima. I would have chosen Rimac though.
We bought our tickets to Trujillo (an 8hr luxury bus ride for $14), and found a corner store that sold beer with the typical jail bars to buy through. Drinking on the street is cool here, yet I haven´t seen anyone do it besides us and the bus station security guard. We did that for a few rounds of 32 ouncers between some parked cars.
This entirely too cute girl kept walking by in an aqua windbreaker and white sweatpants, she was hard to miss. We purchased and ate the shit out of a pile of chicken from a street vendor on the hood of some car. As we were finishing up, somehow we started talking to her on her 5th pass with her friend.
It was the usual broken Spanish introductions for a while. I asked them if they were 16, and they said, ¨No! 21 and .... 25.¨ At some point they said they had to go to work, I asked where they worked and got just smiles and no answer.
Eventually the proposition came, and it went completely over my head. I understood none of the words, but the hand slapping was pretty clear.
As drunk as we were, and as good of an idea as it seemed (possibly underage girls in a bad part of Lima, three guys and two girls) we had to add to that our bus was leaving in 15 minutes, so we said our goodbyes.
8 hours later in Trujillo I expected a laid back beach culture but it was as intense as Lima, like we never left. We wandered around and checked into a Hostel / Cochera, which turned out to be a sex hotel mostly. A cochera is a place where you bring your esteemed lady of the night for hourly room rental. A hostel in South America doesn´t have to be a place for bearded backpackers, it´s any cheap hotel. In this case the matresses were wrapped in plastic and so were the three remotes they gave us. Whatever goes on in that room with three matresses is probably too kinky for me to imagine. It was all brand new though, clean, and the most expensive place we stayed, $21 for the three of us.
Hospedaje is the real word for backpacker´s hostel. La Casa Suiza in Huanchaco was a great hospedaje we ended up at next. They had a rooftop barbeque deck, TV room, free internet and friendly surfer staff for $5/night per person.
Another great one in Lima is Casa del Mochilero, where I am now. It´s basically a homestay, also for $5 per night.
This city has its share, and they´re all over, enough that you´ll run across them just going about your normal business. The first set were in the pricey nighlife district, Miraflores. Just two girls with the softest voices, one said Hi and cocked her head next to a taxi stand. Then ¡Vamos! as we walked away.
The third set was my favorite, we made good friends with them! We went to the bus station about three hours early because our last bar experience went poorly, I´ll get to that later. While the driver was dropping us off he said, ¨It´s really secure here¨ even though we didn´t ask. I learned later either that neighborhood or Callao, by the airport, were the most dangerous in Lima. I would have chosen Rimac though.
We bought our tickets to Trujillo (an 8hr luxury bus ride for $14), and found a corner store that sold beer with the typical jail bars to buy through. Drinking on the street is cool here, yet I haven´t seen anyone do it besides us and the bus station security guard. We did that for a few rounds of 32 ouncers between some parked cars.
This entirely too cute girl kept walking by in an aqua windbreaker and white sweatpants, she was hard to miss. We purchased and ate the shit out of a pile of chicken from a street vendor on the hood of some car. As we were finishing up, somehow we started talking to her on her 5th pass with her friend.
It was the usual broken Spanish introductions for a while. I asked them if they were 16, and they said, ¨No! 21 and .... 25.¨ At some point they said they had to go to work, I asked where they worked and got just smiles and no answer.
Eventually the proposition came, and it went completely over my head. I understood none of the words, but the hand slapping was pretty clear.
As drunk as we were, and as good of an idea as it seemed (possibly underage girls in a bad part of Lima, three guys and two girls) we had to add to that our bus was leaving in 15 minutes, so we said our goodbyes.
8 hours later in Trujillo I expected a laid back beach culture but it was as intense as Lima, like we never left. We wandered around and checked into a Hostel / Cochera, which turned out to be a sex hotel mostly. A cochera is a place where you bring your esteemed lady of the night for hourly room rental. A hostel in South America doesn´t have to be a place for bearded backpackers, it´s any cheap hotel. In this case the matresses were wrapped in plastic and so were the three remotes they gave us. Whatever goes on in that room with three matresses is probably too kinky for me to imagine. It was all brand new though, clean, and the most expensive place we stayed, $21 for the three of us.
Hospedaje is the real word for backpacker´s hostel. La Casa Suiza in Huanchaco was a great hospedaje we ended up at next. They had a rooftop barbeque deck, TV room, free internet and friendly surfer staff for $5/night per person.
Another great one in Lima is Casa del Mochilero, where I am now. It´s basically a homestay, also for $5 per night.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Cured!
Wow, never had such a dramatic turnaround from one pill, best dollar I ever spent. The civil war dysentary simulator is over! Cipro-C is the magical medication, or Ciprofloxacino.
Ran out of time for Huaraz, going to Lima and my buddies are heading home, then on to Cusco.
Ran out of time for Huaraz, going to Lima and my buddies are heading home, then on to Cusco.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Sick as a Dog
We´re in Huanchaco now, a surfing and fishing town next to Trujillo. After one day of surfing and happiness and meeting really fit expat girls on the beach the crew is in a rough state today. We´re all feeling sick, and despite this, Justin partied all night with locals until 7am. He is Sid Vicious reincarnate!
48 hours ago I did laundry, and in the last 30 nearly bedridden hours I shat my way through all my bottom halves. I´m now in boardshorts waiting for laundry round two, but that´s socially acceptable here, the boardshorts anyways.
I´m ready to organ donate my bladder cause this is bullshit, it´s become useless. The first night I drank 2.5 liters of water spread out after bathroom breaks and still felt dehydrated. It´s been better since then.
Good news though, the drug store here is a dream compared to the United States, especially if the medicine works. All I did was walk across the street, say hello and ask for a lil medicamento for la diarrea. No prescription, no referral, no Aetna POS II network, no line, no waiting, no high cost, no FSA Debit card, no pre-existing conditions--it was a dollar a dose, or three Peruvian bus rides. In and out in 2 minutes. The oxycontin was a little more expensive. Just kidding.
A dollar a dose also came with some advice,
-No fruit!!
-Rice!
-No pizza
-???? didn´t understand
-???? soup, blah blah blah
-Drink gatorade, even though nobody sells it
Next stop is Huaraz, 3000+ meters elevation, hope I can heal up before then. I got some good stories about scams, prostitutes, and whore houses that we stumbled upon in our last hours in Lima, but I´m waiting for a better state of mind to write about it. A teaser: I´m so glad to be bedridden here instead of the place with matresses wrapped in plastic.
48 hours ago I did laundry, and in the last 30 nearly bedridden hours I shat my way through all my bottom halves. I´m now in boardshorts waiting for laundry round two, but that´s socially acceptable here, the boardshorts anyways.
I´m ready to organ donate my bladder cause this is bullshit, it´s become useless. The first night I drank 2.5 liters of water spread out after bathroom breaks and still felt dehydrated. It´s been better since then.
Good news though, the drug store here is a dream compared to the United States, especially if the medicine works. All I did was walk across the street, say hello and ask for a lil medicamento for la diarrea. No prescription, no referral, no Aetna POS II network, no line, no waiting, no high cost, no FSA Debit card, no pre-existing conditions--it was a dollar a dose, or three Peruvian bus rides. In and out in 2 minutes. The oxycontin was a little more expensive. Just kidding.
A dollar a dose also came with some advice,
-No fruit!!
-Rice!
-No pizza
-???? didn´t understand
-???? soup, blah blah blah
-Drink gatorade, even though nobody sells it
Next stop is Huaraz, 3000+ meters elevation, hope I can heal up before then. I got some good stories about scams, prostitutes, and whore houses that we stumbled upon in our last hours in Lima, but I´m waiting for a better state of mind to write about it. A teaser: I´m so glad to be bedridden here instead of the place with matresses wrapped in plastic.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Bar Brawls
As I said, we got locked out of the hostel the first night upon returing from a club at 3am, so we wandered around central Lima for a few hours, climbing buildings and avoiding shadowy groups of people down unlit streets.
Eventually we found this door, two blocks from our hostel with stairs to a third floor, and music going on. It was completely empty and they were buffing the floor, but still were happy to serve us, and we chatted up the bartender, Christina for a while. The cook was about to leave, but made us the best calamari I´ve ever had.
Eventually this guy comes over with no knowledge of English and starts telling us all sorts of complicated things about Lucha Libre wrestling, he´s wasted and a wrestler himself. In Peru, beer comes in 32oz bottles and you all share it, so he bought one to share with us as he´s stumbling around.
While we´re on our last cup, he tries to pay and they catch him trying to pass a falso 100 soles bill ($30). Serious cash for Peruvians, we can´t even get change for them 5 out of 6 times. I pulled out one of mine to compare and it looks and feels identical, but then Christina licked a certain spot on mine and a small black line showed up, but not on his. He has no means to pay for tab, probably around $10, so they´re arguing, and I tried to learn as much angry spanish as I could. Eventually they tell me to go away, so I found this ladder to the roof, at dawn which I thought was pretty cool.
I come back down, and get scolded for going on the roof by some woman, now 4:30am who comes out of a hidden door. When I returned to the table, our buddy is now in a headlock on the floor by Christina´s husband. I stare dumbfounded for a while, almost having poor enough taste to take a photo, and Christina starts punching the guy in the face. Then people start coming out of everywhere, there´s a shirtless heavier guy, the lady and a few others. They eventually released him and his bloody nose. Christina stands there saying, ¨Tu malo person¨ about 40 times.
We decide its time to go, so we pay, probably too much but not far too much, and leave. After that, Christina runs after me with my sweatshirt I forgot at the bar, crying. Down the street there´s a crowd of tourists, and I said, ¨Hey, you guys want to go to a cool bar?¨
Internet is over, till next time.
Eventually we found this door, two blocks from our hostel with stairs to a third floor, and music going on. It was completely empty and they were buffing the floor, but still were happy to serve us, and we chatted up the bartender, Christina for a while. The cook was about to leave, but made us the best calamari I´ve ever had.
Eventually this guy comes over with no knowledge of English and starts telling us all sorts of complicated things about Lucha Libre wrestling, he´s wasted and a wrestler himself. In Peru, beer comes in 32oz bottles and you all share it, so he bought one to share with us as he´s stumbling around.
While we´re on our last cup, he tries to pay and they catch him trying to pass a falso 100 soles bill ($30). Serious cash for Peruvians, we can´t even get change for them 5 out of 6 times. I pulled out one of mine to compare and it looks and feels identical, but then Christina licked a certain spot on mine and a small black line showed up, but not on his. He has no means to pay for tab, probably around $10, so they´re arguing, and I tried to learn as much angry spanish as I could. Eventually they tell me to go away, so I found this ladder to the roof, at dawn which I thought was pretty cool.
I come back down, and get scolded for going on the roof by some woman, now 4:30am who comes out of a hidden door. When I returned to the table, our buddy is now in a headlock on the floor by Christina´s husband. I stare dumbfounded for a while, almost having poor enough taste to take a photo, and Christina starts punching the guy in the face. Then people start coming out of everywhere, there´s a shirtless heavier guy, the lady and a few others. They eventually released him and his bloody nose. Christina stands there saying, ¨Tu malo person¨ about 40 times.
We decide its time to go, so we pay, probably too much but not far too much, and leave. After that, Christina runs after me with my sweatshirt I forgot at the bar, crying. Down the street there´s a crowd of tourists, and I said, ¨Hey, you guys want to go to a cool bar?¨
Internet is over, till next time.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
So far so good
I´m in Peru, took the redeye from Miami and got in at 5am. I was impressed by the modern looking airport, just like any airport you´d see in America.
During the landing I could see basically shipping containers arranged in a neighborhood fashion, I thought for sure they were mostly unused or just on the outskirts, but after getting in our cab we started rolling heading for the hostel and it stretched on for miles and miles of squalor. I thought the whole city was going to be like that, but we took some turns and suddenly everything was clean and historic.
I´ve gotten so much mileage out of my 90 word Spanish vocabulary so far, it´s been great. Some people are more accessible than others with broken Spanish, but pretty much everyone doesn´t know English or sucks at it. I´d say only two conversations have ended in utter confusion, and I´m chatting up everyone.
Yesterday we did tons of things you can´t do in America,
-Purchased contacts without a perscription
-Asked directions from a guard with an AK-47
-Ate a three person meal with 200 ounces of beer for $10
-Partied until 7am (locked out of the hostel)
-Catacomb tour with a pit of just skulls 10m deep
The street markets are INSANE and stretch on for miles. There´s a massive parking garage thing full of people cutting up chickens, fish, and pigs and at some places selling meals of it fresh. The whole place smells like rotten fish, just like what you can order, called ceviche. The whole city smelled like piss when I got here, but I got used to it.
Getting kicked off the internet, stay tuned for a bar brawl story next time ´round!
During the landing I could see basically shipping containers arranged in a neighborhood fashion, I thought for sure they were mostly unused or just on the outskirts, but after getting in our cab we started rolling heading for the hostel and it stretched on for miles and miles of squalor. I thought the whole city was going to be like that, but we took some turns and suddenly everything was clean and historic.
I´ve gotten so much mileage out of my 90 word Spanish vocabulary so far, it´s been great. Some people are more accessible than others with broken Spanish, but pretty much everyone doesn´t know English or sucks at it. I´d say only two conversations have ended in utter confusion, and I´m chatting up everyone.
Yesterday we did tons of things you can´t do in America,
-Purchased contacts without a perscription
-Asked directions from a guard with an AK-47
-Ate a three person meal with 200 ounces of beer for $10
-Partied until 7am (locked out of the hostel)
-Catacomb tour with a pit of just skulls 10m deep
The street markets are INSANE and stretch on for miles. There´s a massive parking garage thing full of people cutting up chickens, fish, and pigs and at some places selling meals of it fresh. The whole place smells like rotten fish, just like what you can order, called ceviche. The whole city smelled like piss when I got here, but I got used to it.
Getting kicked off the internet, stay tuned for a bar brawl story next time ´round!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Peru Cycling
Just realized I saw a video once of Peru cycling, hope it's just like this. Check out the trail at 2:00!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
