Journal, September 24

I am certain that I have used up all of my nine lives in these past two weeks.  While I could have died nine deaths from the threatened traveller’s sickness, sidewalk attacks, air pollution, traffic accidents, yellow fever, typhoid, runaway parades, embarrassing moments, or sheer lack of sunlight, water, and soil, I have somehow been spared from all of them—at least for now.  Either I am a savvy traveller, have incredible luck, or the guidebooks were just wrong about Lima, Peru. 

My experience of Lima has been very narrow so far—limited to just three of the wealthiest districts—but it has surprised me in many ways.  The city that one website called “out of control” with violence and crime turns out to be tranquil, except at rush hour, and festive at the best of times.  In the past few weeks, I have learned to let down my guard, because this so-called “developing” city is not asking anything from anyone, except maybe recognition of its development.  In downtown Miraflores, the upscale district of Lima, I see fewer beggars than I did in Uptown Waterloo.  The streets are cleaner and the transportation is faster.  And yet the city begs to be seen as “modern.”  The word is everywhere—on signs for new high-rise residential buildings and in tourist brochures.  After decades of playing development catch-up and trying to forget its turbulent past, Peru wants to be counted among the big players, and yet plays on different strengths than most of the world’s powers.  At Mistura, now the second-largest gastronomic festival in the world, Peru boasted a world-class cuisine and showcased its incredible biodiversity, which one Peruvian called a “gift from God.”  Indeed, Peru has been blessed with many life-giving resources, but some, such as gold, are both gifts and curses.  Towering Scotiabank skyscrapers in San Isidro are beacons for international mining companies, which are received warmly by many for the economic development they bring to the country.  But anyone who reads the newspaper and follows the citizen protests in cities like Madre de Dios knows that this wealth comes at a cost to many rural communities that are involved in informal mining activities, or that want to preserve the natural environment.  But in districts like Miraflores and San Isidro, which only see the benefits of this economic “development,” these issues seem faraway and largely invisible.

My experience of Lima so far has been much like my experience of Spanish conversations.  I think I understand, but my knowledge is so basic that I cannot always distinguish between what I understand and what I cannot.  But in the case of Lima, I know that I am only seeing the clean, shiny surface and missing a lot of what goes on here.  It’s nice to feel comfortable in my guest house in San Isidro, but I am looking forward to starting work next week at the Center for Black Peruvian Women’s Development, where I hope I will begin to see a more colourful picture of Lima.