A week in Lima: Like Miami, sans sun and with lots of ceviche

A slight change in plans... last week I decided to apply to Pisco Sin Fronteras, where Judith was signed up to volunteer, for two weeks. Rather than selfishly bask in the sun on a beach in Northern Peru and take surfing classes for three weeks, I'm taking up carpentry, plumbing, dry walling and/or painting and helping the town of Pisco rebuild (having been devastated by the 2007 earthquake). They are overstaffed at the moment so I'll have to stay in a hostel down the street rather than in the organization's house. They have something like 80+ volunteers at the moment.

We are starting tomorrow, which gave us a week to relax and hang out in Lima. A very long, relaxing week. In Lima "winter" means eternal gray skies, a lingering mist, and an average temperature in the low 70s. We stayed in Miraflores, the yuppy part of town along the beach, with leafy cul-de-sacs, dogs dressed in sweaters and juice bars, cevicherias or coffee shops on nearly every corner. Add on the non-indigenous looking locals who ooze American trends and style, and it really reminds me of Miami. And they take credit card! And you can put toilet paper in the toilets! Back in civilization, folks.

We spent the week taking advantage of the crazy cheap almuerzos del dia, meaning $4 two or three course meals, full of fresh off the boat ceviche and fish. The wet weather made us feel quite lazy, and much time was spent watching movies in the hostel, as the movie theaters are overrun with bad American kids movies such as Transformers 3 or Pirates of the Caribbean or some penguin movie with Jim Carrey. We went one night and saw the least bad looking movie, Limitless, which was of course less than par for Robert DeNiro, and then we made it a double feature by finding an actual Spanish movie with Javier Bardem, Biutiful. Unfortunately since it was already in Spanish, there were no subtitles, and a lot of the already bizarre movie was lost on us.

Feeling like we needed a dose of culture, we ventured into central Lima one day, walked around the Plaza del Armas and the Central Mercado. Colonial architecture was surprisingly beautiful.

Found a little street outside the Plaza, near the water, with stand after stand of local artisinal treats, as well as anticuchos, which my dad warned me away from (grilled cow hearts? No thanks!) After much debate, we settled on an arroz con leche kind of dessert, mixed with some syrupy fruity stuff.

Before getting to Lima, my dad made me promise to check out Haiti Restaurant. He ate there in the 70s and was still dreaming of their chirimoya pie. Haiti still exists, in all its 1970s-business-men-who-lunch glory, but unfortunately the chirimoya pie does not. The waiter said they stopped serving it in the 70s, but suggested I try the carrot cake instead. It. was. the. best. carrot. cake. of. my. life. I will still be dreaming of it when my kids head to Peru in 2030.

Due to all the desserts, I dutifully made it to the beach a couple of mornings for a few runs along the coast, with parks full of kids skateboarding, people playing tennis, artsy statues and other runners. Felt like home.

Now off to Pisco to hammer and nail for the next two weeks.