MARCH 18, 2019 BY CASSANDRA JOHNSON
I knew Elijah was going to be intriguing when he appeared around the airplane aisle, before he and his mom sat next to me. He took the middle seat. He had questions. He had answers. He had observations and some immediate bonding was about to commence. Primarily, he broke the non-existent ice by talking about our individual TVs located on the back of the seats in front of us.
He asked his mom and me if I was going to Peru. I said yes. He wanted to know why and how about all kinds of things in addition to what he would be able to watch and play on the screen before him. He wondered if the plane had taken off yet and if not, when would that be. His mom was trying to reel him in, but she was smiling at the same time, seeing that I was answering him honestly and at the same time engaging him in a playful way. I answered his why-destination-Peru-question and when I told him some of the first names of some friends I was going to see, he said the names weren’t real. (In retrospect, was he telling me that I didn’t have friends? I’m laughing more now, thinking about it.) I let him know that I was then going to tell my friends that their names weren’t real.
He and his mom were speaking only in English as we took this flight from New York to Lima, Peru. I had connected here from Washington DC (where I live now). It turns out his mom had moved from Peru to the States when she was 5 and this was her first time back. Elijah is 5 now. As his mom and I were chatting, I told her I would actually be heading to the city of Pisco the following day and this would just be a leisure trip following the volunteer one there, years ago. Her mom lived in the US as well and it was her grandmother who still lived in Peru. Her mom had traveled in advance of them and they would visit a nice small city in which her grandmother also had a second home. I was excited for them.
Elijah did not want to sleep. He played some coloring game on the TV for a while and I do promise you that while I also watch and read what is serious and thought-provoking, I had decided that I needed to watch Teen Titans Go and also half let it watch me. This is so I could keep my mind relaxed and positive. With all the intellectually stimulating material that I read and watch, I too like to have this healthy well-rounded entertainment diet of light-hearted sitcoms and cartoons in my life. At this point, my little buddy had begun watching what I admittedly didn’t realize then was Masha and the Bear. He had some commentary on Teen Titans Go so I asked what was that on his screen. He said I knew. He laughed so I told him it was Goldilocks. We both fell asleep hard. His mom told me she didn’t. She thought because it was her first time traveling alone with him. She was preoccupied, being an attentive, concerned mother. Yet, it cracked me up, in all her consistent part chatting, part pleading, part explaining to him, she would periodically say Dude, because this or Dude because that and so it strikes me that I may or may not be ready to be a mom though I would enjoy being one. Thus, we were coming to the end of our chilled exchange. Elijah’s final question to his mom: Was I her cousin? She and I smiled at each other in wonder. My maybe conclusion: He had accepted me so early on in his familial space that I must be family.
Getting through Peruvian customs in Lima didn’t seem to take as long as before, which is what I expected. The appearance is that things are always progressing. In some ways that’s true but not in every aspect as I would soon come to see in Pisco. I waited at baggage claim for my pink backpacker’s bag. I surveyed the surroundings, figuring I would go to the money exchange first. I wanted to get enough in local currency but not too much, just enough to reduce lone visits to the ATM. The older I get and more experience I gain, the more I work on making my efforts as seamless as possible. In fact, I had requested a taxi pickup from the airport to my hotel in Miraflores, to save on price-negotiating time. I was now one of those people, for the moment, whose driver had a handwritten sign with my name on it. It was just $22 to add it to my online itinerary. I walked up to the gentleman holding my name and another driver with a different sign for a different traveler smiled saying “Ahh. Cassandra. Cassandra” (for some unknown reason). I smiled and followed my driver (Luis) out.
Primarily, Luis was more matter of fact then friendly. He became more engaging as he asked if I had already prepared a return trip from downtown Lima to the International Airport. When he realized I wasn’t staying in Lima and also needed a ride early in the morning to the bus terminal (destination Pisco) he offered service for that as well. I think that’s a pretty standard experience I have found when I’m riding from the airport to my lodging area abroad and across states. I usually accept their card or contact information and say I will call on them for a return trip to the airport or somewhere else. This is not a promise and not without first gauging my instincts. Occasionally, if the person is overly flirtatious, I keep my distance. The same stands for any other seemingly unprofessional behavior. My advice is to take a card or contact info when it is offered but do not feel obligated to use their services. You can always negotiate better fares and services by working within the recommendations from your lodging’s staff or other fellow travelers.
I did actually find Luis to be ideal for the next day because of the original connection to him through the online booking service. I also liked that I already would have an early morning ride secured. He and I had conjectured that about 6:20 a.m. would be a good pick up time to head over from the hotel to the bus station. He did not show up the next morning. For all those times that a plan has not quite come together, I had already decided to give him just a few minutes before conferring with the lady adjacent to the small hotel desk. There were plenty of taxis outside yelling out presumed destinations to people. Still, whenever I have limited time and I’m not traveling with a companion, I like to go with something as official as the concierge in a hotel or hostel abroad because the price they secure will be reasonable and standard, and you most likely don’t have to guess whether the transportation company is official or not.
In this recent case of staying in Lima’s safely recommended neighborhood of Miraflores, I will additionally recommend the Ibis Lima Larco Miraflores hotel. My room was immaculate, and the location was convenient for food and shopping needs. Depending on weather preferences, however, one should note that Lima, Peru is extremely hot right now. The US is opposite of South America. South America’s February is in the summer and I would soon find out that while Pisco was going to be a scorcher too (as my friends there had been preparing me), there would at least be some helpful breezes and it would cool off in the evenings (typical of desert nights). Rain in Pisco is rare. When we were there, it would come so lightly and quickly that you would be left questioning if it ever really happened. The more northern and mountainous areas of Peru are different. When I reached Cusco, Machu Picchu especially, and later Bolivia, it was cold with the rainy season and I naturally developed an incessant cough, from only gradually adjusting my wardrobe to the elements. Adding a side note here that I will get into later when recalling my volunteer time in northern Peru and Bolivia: Plan for wardrobe changes along the way. Almost hacking up a lung while clubbing in Cusco’s Plaza de las Armas is not cute (though the Chilean and Argentinian guys there on holiday never seemed to mind).
Returning to my recent internal country travel, I did end up making it to the bus station in plenty of time. (I would hear from the Luis much later via WhatsApp.) Reaching the terminal, I was greeted with the familiarity of the Soyuz bus company. It is a good bus company and I took its main service on many an occasion. From what I could tell with all the activity around me, it still appears to be reliable and efficient, but I can more so recently speak to its PeruBús VIP element. The cleanliness and punctuality was enough for me to decide the name was well earned. The smoothest ride was on my way from Lima to Pisco. There were just a few of us. More people joined at various stops along the way though there are just 4 main bus terminal city stops on this route. Two guys got on at a lesser traveled stop. They immediately sat in front of me and reclined their seats. I told myself, “it’s okay, you still got some space” although I was apparently too presumptuously enjoying the previous amount. I thought about moving to one of the still considerably large number of empty seats, but I think they were assigned (in theory) and I know from experience that you never know what discomfort and awkwardness you may be pre-sitting next to. I had made the right decision. The bus filled up quickly. The lady who sat next to me was with two other people that sat across the aisle. I only saw one other foreigner (yep, that’s in addition to me) get on the bus and unlike me, she was blond. She moved towards the rear.
I kept my curtain pushed open, watching developed Peru trail by, watching nature-made Peru flow by, saw undeveloped areas portioned in. I got a real reminder about what I missed about this part of the country. The area was getting closer and closer to the former earthquake-affected area where I had volunteered 9 years ago. My heart was wrenched, dazzled, filled with an affection and peace. I was returning to a different home now.
I fell deep asleep for a while. Part of the bus trip from Lima back to Pisco had evaporated into my sleep. It was dreamless for all I knew. The surrealness of being back was dream enough. I was now returning as I had been meaning to do so, for so long now. I was returning to a time that seemed lucid in the way that we had organized ourselves and diligently made things happen. How intriguing that we had all come together from various countries to physically help one country and worked so hard and played so well together, even with the mistakes and rough patches. The experience was special with its random traditions and systems that were so well put together. Now, I had arrived. I was in Pisco before I knew it and also right on time. 4 hours later. Once again at Cruce Pisco. Pisco Crossroads. Welcome to Terminal Terrastre!
At this point, I knew I would need a car, a carro, a coche, a taxi to get to the main plaza, where I would be staying in a hostel (un hospedaje). I had chosen among several hostels available and wow – how different would it be to be in Pisco and not directing drivers to take me back to the shared volunteer house on Avenida America. It made me a little sad in a way that didn’t make complete sense, but I guess it completely does. It’s the nostalgia that hits you squarely when you are physically transported back to a specific space. The energy that molded me from here and the energy that I expended here, now in the space that I occupied. Fully immersed in memories (some I realized now that I had even forgot to remember), I was simultaneously hit with former emotions. Not every day as a volunteer was easy while the whole of it was wonderful. It was not meant for us to be there forever. The country’s work was meant to live on with the people of the country and so it has. Life is bittersweet.
Returning to Pisco, Peru Part 3 : Continuing Soon
