To all who were following our South American adventure...my deepest apologies. Life is crazy in the big city!
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I REALLY have not had time to write, and here´s why: My most heartfelt salute to all single parents out there. I´ve done the single parent for a week or so at a time in the past, but this is COMPLETELY different. Every activity, every school dropoff, every meal is mine. Everything they need, is mine. When they need a stern hand, it´s me. When they need sweet, it´s me. I have a learned about myself the last few weeks. You learn to appreciate a half hour to read while they watch TV. By the time they´re in bed, I´m too tired to write. And I´m not even working--I can´t believe I thought about trying to do that.
I know all the single parents are saying "Wow. Three weeks. Big deal." And they´re right. But I wanted to mention it.
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That being said, I have to also salute my life partner, Sonia Yvonne Cuba de Plum. Sometimes it takes something like this to realize how big a role your partner plays in your life. We make a great team, baby, and I love you. See you in 10 days!
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A ver...un resumen breve de algunos acontecimientos grandes desde que escribo:
--Orlando is healing well from his accident. Stitches came out on day 5, Steristrips for two weeks, and now we just put cream on the scar three times a day with the hope that the scar will fade.
--Both kids are signed up for soccer--between the two of them we´re at the bleeping soccer park six days a week. Sometimes, we (meaning I) just need a day off. Coaches aren´t happy with that, but it is what it is.
--El fútbol es una cosa BIEN distinta a lo que es en EE.UU. Es un juego mucho más agresivo, ningunas de las reglitas que tienen allá. Es a todo dar, todo el tiempo. Niko, quien sobresalta en su equipo en Iowa, es tan solo otro jugador acá. Orgulloso de los dos por defenderse y adaptarse al juego sudaméricano.
--The kids are also in school: Santa María de Fátima, (supposedly) a bilingual school, although I get the impression very little English is actually used (kind of like Spanish in the U.S.) While they´re in school, I have been going to Gold´s Gym (I know, really Peruvian, right?) to work on this belly of mine. The kids aren´t thrilled about going to school, but it´s a great place for them to be around the language, speak it with peers, And, by God, I NEED those four hours a day.
--I did make one concession on school: we will skip one day a week to do something fun. We´re on vacation, right? Last week, we called in sick on Thursday and went up to a part of Lima called Miraflores. Miraflores is considerably more upscale than Pando, where we are living. Most importantly, it´s on the OCEAN. We wandered a while trying to find the hotel I stayed at in 2007, Inkawasi, when I was here, and then stumbled upon a beach. We rolled up our pant legs and let the Pacific bathe our feet. Probably my second favorite part of the trip so far (see below). I made a commitment: We´re gonna go see the ocean at least once a week while we´re here.
--After that I took the kids on the Calle de las Pizzas, where about a dozen restauranteers try VERY hard to get you into their establishment. Eventually we wrangled free lemonade for the kids and a free pizco sour for Papi. The kids LOVED it.
--Then we found Incawasi. SO proud of myself!!
--Monday was a particularly fun day. Peru was playing in the semifinals of the Copa America, so the kids and I went over to Palomino, where Sonia´s grandpa lives, and they were cooking out. The kids played for hours with all the kids from the neighborhood (one girl wrote in a heart "Niko y Orlando"). I spent time with Sonia´s childhood friends, doing "La Rueda". One particularly inebriated gentleman asked me where I was from at least six times. Then the game came on. Peru lost, 2-1, but the experience was great.
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Y ahora: la gente. No puedo decir lo suficiente de la gente en este viaje. El amigo de Sonia, Daniel, nos recogió en el aeropuerto al venir. En el fútbol y la escuela han sido SÚPER amables. En Palomino, me tratan como si me hubiera criado allí.
Pero sobre todo, tengo que reconocer la familia con la cual nos estamos hospedando. La amiga de Sonia, Ada, su esposo, Luís, y su hija, Kiara, nos han aceptado como su propia familia. Hemos ido de compras, a comer, al cine. Hemos, sobre todo, convivido. Y luego uno se da cuenta que uno no sólo está viajando, sino también formando otra familia. Ahora tengo mi familia biológica, la cual es increíble, en EE.UU.; tanta familia en Venezuela; y mi nueva familia limeña. Ojalá y Dios siempre me esté bendiciendo con semejante familia.
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PROBABLY THE CRAZIEST THING FOR THE KIDS--AND THE ONE SONIA BEGGED ME NOT TO TAKE PART IN--is the public transportation. She wanted me to use taxis, which, to be fair, are not particularly expensive. But yáll know me: I am one cheap son of a bitch. So I immediately began learning how the buses ran.
In Iowa City, it works like this: the bus comes either once an hour, or twice an hour. If you´re not there at the appointed time, oh well. The city runs the buses. Sometimes it seems you need a Masters degree just to figure out the schedule. When the bus does come, you very calmly walk on, pay your money and sit down. Then, right before your stop, your ring the bell, and you calmly walk off.
In Lima, it works like this: each bus, though sanctioned by Greater Lima, is its own business. It consists of a driver and a person (usually a guy, but sometimes a woman, almost always younger because you jump on and off a lot) in the door of the omnibus yelling out the streets and landmarks it will be passing and trying to get you on. Once you´re on he goes around and collects your money. These people have incredible memories. At any given time, they have, say, thirty different people on their bus, and they remember who has payed and who hasn´t, and moreover, where you´re going to (it costs more if you go further). Then they go back to the door and yell: "Todo Bolívar, Universitaria, Universitaria, övalo, óvalo, súbese, súbese". Once they´ve got all the customers they can get, they bang the roof the vehicle, and the bus lurches into motion. And remember, in Latin America, everybody is constantly changing lanes, passing, breaking, so if you are unfortunate enough to not have a seat, you damn well better have a good sense of balance (so far, most people have been nice enough to let Orlando sit down; Niko´s had many occasions to show his athletic prowess). Then when you get to your stop, you have to yell "Baja!! Baja!!" and the bus wildly swings into the right lane and they practically throw you off the bus (at this point they´re not making any money off of you).
The other night, the bus was super crowded, and apparently had like a one second time limit for getting off. We hadn´t even gotten to the door yet (it was in the back) and the bus started moving again. I yelled out "BAJA!! BAJA!! CAAAARAAAAJJJJOOOOO!!" (a Spanish expletive) and the bus stopped again. I got Orlando off, jumped off myself, holding onto Niko, and I´ll be damned if that bus wasn´t in motion before Niko´s foot was off the step.
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Okay, so I´ve had a little fun with the buses. But the fact is, it´s a hard fucking job. Dealing with all that traffic, dealing with people that are constantly trying to underpay (partially because they´re always trying to overcharge), wind, heat, dirt. They make their living one passenger, one sol (33 cents) at a time. And kids aren´t good business. If they´re wearing a school uniform, they only pay half. They take up seats. And worse, they take SO GODDAMN LONG getting on and off the bus, which just eats away at their business model.
Most operators tolerate kids. A few have been just short of hostile.
But about a week ago, my favorite part of the trip so far happened. Orlando had finished soccer practice and it was getting dark. We walked down to the bus stop and a bus pulled up; the door guy had to be sixty and was bow legged to the point where he had trouble walking. But when I said "Molitalia?" he smiled and said "You bet, hop on!" There were open seats in the back. The bus swerved into motion and the old man made his way to the back. He had a huge smile on his face. I gave him our money and he said to Orlando "You a soccer player? You look like you´re a good soccer player!" And he asked Niko "I bet you play soccer too. That´s great. And Papi takes good care of you!"
Then he shuffled, bow-legged, to the front of the bus. When the bus crosses from Callao into Lima, it has to register. The old man forgot. The driver yelled at him to go register. "Oh yeah!" the old man said and ran, best he could, to the registration taquilla. Then he jumped back on, still smiling. The bus swerved back into traffic, the old man fought for balance. When we got to our stop he gave us all pats on the back and said, "Soccer players, keep up the good work!" The bus roared off down Venezuela Avenue, into the eerie city night. All the way home all I could think about was that old guy´s smile, and the realization that I couldn´t stop smiling, either.
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