Initial Impressions

Upon my arrival at the Jorge Chavez International Airport late Wednesday night, I was greeted by my hosts, the charming parents of a former colleague at the Embassy. The drive from northern Lima to the southern district of Chorillos was uneventful save the myriad lights (Lima has over 9 million inhabitants) and the proximity of most edifices to the Pacific Ocean. Thursday morning witnessed the birthday celebration of “Charito”, a life-long friend from the local parish, in which I was surrounded by a generation twice removed from my own discussing, in a colloquial Castilian, growing old, gaining weight, and, of course, where everyone was the day of the earthquake. The afternoon was spent in the kitchen with my senora, Abelinda Portugal, and the domestic servant, Rosa, clearly of indigenous origin, peeling oranges and conversing over nominal affairs.
My initial impressions of Lima are that it is cold (in the climatic sense) and intimidating. The temperature hovers around 60 degrees Fahrenheit and is cooler in the evenings. Though the home where I am staying is very modern and looks out onto the beach, the neighbor still contains many unfinished structures and, shall we say, humble settlements. Any attempts to acclimate are generally demurred by friendly warnings: “be careful not to be robbed by taxi drivers” and “make sure to always lock the doors” which do little to provide comfort. I feel that despite my desire to take full advantage of this situation, it is more important to preserve my safety than to “prove my virility”, as was said by a wise friend.