We weren't sure exactly what Halloween would be like here, but it turns out that it is celebrated in Lima (not elsewhere in the country, we hear). So we carved pumpkins the night before and got our costumes ready. At 3pm we headed over to the embassy grounds with some Maureen's family and some of the other Peruvian Peace Corps employees.
Since arriving in Peru, Jennifer and Carter have read their way through The Chronicles of Narnia. So he wanted to be Peter the High King of Narnia, while Jen used our xmas tablecloth, etc., to become the frozen evil White Witch and I became someone she has turned to stone. Julito, in this picture, is Anakin Skywalker.
Each department at the embassy competes to decorate their section. It was amazing...an undersea scene with jellyfish, a couple of fright-houses (Jennifer is a good screamer), Mario world, Pac-Man, witches coven, etc. etc.
The winner was the Consular Section, with a large Legoland. They had ordered custom-made Lego head masks in all sorts of characters. Below you can see a mariachi lego, an Iron Man, a skeleton, and the hard-rocking Lego Kiss band. There were many more. After trick-or-treating all the departments, the boys played on the bouncy house and trampoline...which seem obligatory at any kid event here.
At home we were pleased to discover that our neighborhood had trick-or-treaters. I ran down to Pardo's chicken to get takeout (amusing the girls there in my makeup), and we had a fun dinner interrupted by the doorbell. A handful of kids seem to not get the memo about wearing costumes, but everyone was having fun and even the moms wanted candy. Every time he went to the door, Carter would also give a piece of candy to the street watchman...and when we ran out, Carter got us through the few remaining visitors by contributing some of his own candy.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Cricket Club, Housewarming
Weekend before last, we were invited by Maureen in Jen's office to the Lima Cricket Club for a Sunday afternoon. We were joined by the families of a couple of other people who Jen and Maureen work closest with. There are some clubs in Lima that epitomize the different world of the Peruvian elite, but the Cricket Club, even with its perfect recreation of a British pub, seemed earnest and pleasant. With open fields and a jungle gym, the kids ran themselves to happy exhaustion while the parents sipped beer or soda and had a slow lunch outside.
This week we got back into the swing of things after Carter's week of Spring Break. It was also the end of 4 weeks during which I went to Spanish classes 4hrs daily. Saturday evening we had a housewarming party, attended mostly by folks from the Peace Corps office. We borrowed a BBQ, an open style that is common here...significant only because as I stood close to the fire turning the meat, my metal belt buckle became superheated and left a hilarious (if stinging) square burn on my belly into the next day.
Guests included Maureen (who looks Scandinavian, unless you call her 'gringa' and get a taste of her Lima street sass), her husband Julio (a film professor who will film a jungle thriller one day) and their son Julito who speaks no English yet gets along famously with Carter. Also at the party were the handymen who have been at our house uncountable times as we patch/plug/tighten things in the house. Also, a US family in our neighborhood that we've met up with a few times...the dad, Mike, works finance at the nearby International Potato Institute. Before you chuckle, wiki 'potato' and see how this Andean starch has changed the world...there are over 1,000 types of potato here. It's kind of like how the Inuit have so many words for 'snow'. Sanjay (Peru Country Directore) and Garima and their kids showed up a little late and there was no food left. One nice thing about Peruvians: none of that false hesitation, when you yell that the food is ready, everybody jumps up and eats.
Saturday, Jen goes for a week-long conference in Granada, Nicaragua (a city of remarkable history in Central America...click here for the Wiki link).

Here's photos of a great pizza place, half open-air, that Jen found on a dusty corner where their clay oven faces the street.
This week we got back into the swing of things after Carter's week of Spring Break. It was also the end of 4 weeks during which I went to Spanish classes 4hrs daily. Saturday evening we had a housewarming party, attended mostly by folks from the Peace Corps office. We borrowed a BBQ, an open style that is common here...significant only because as I stood close to the fire turning the meat, my metal belt buckle became superheated and left a hilarious (if stinging) square burn on my belly into the next day.
Guests included Maureen (who looks Scandinavian, unless you call her 'gringa' and get a taste of her Lima street sass), her husband Julio (a film professor who will film a jungle thriller one day) and their son Julito who speaks no English yet gets along famously with Carter. Also at the party were the handymen who have been at our house uncountable times as we patch/plug/tighten things in the house. Also, a US family in our neighborhood that we've met up with a few times...the dad, Mike, works finance at the nearby International Potato Institute. Before you chuckle, wiki 'potato' and see how this Andean starch has changed the world...there are over 1,000 types of potato here. It's kind of like how the Inuit have so many words for 'snow'. Sanjay (Peru Country Directore) and Garima and their kids showed up a little late and there was no food left. One nice thing about Peruvians: none of that false hesitation, when you yell that the food is ready, everybody jumps up and eats.
Saturday, Jen goes for a week-long conference in Granada, Nicaragua (a city of remarkable history in Central America...click here for the Wiki link).

Here's photos of a great pizza place, half open-air, that Jen found on a dusty corner where their clay oven faces the street.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Huacachina
{For more photos, click here}
4 hours south of Lima, as the Atacamac desert starts to push inland, the city of Ica lies in a valley made productive by the Ica river that flows from the Andes and bunches up against the sand dunes. Last weekend, a summit of South American and Arabian leaders inspired the government to decree Monday and Tuesday be holidays in Lima (apparently to quiet the city as the limos shuttled back and forth). We took the opportunity to visit a small oasis literally 5 minutes away from Ica, behind the first big sand dune.
To get there, we took Cruz del Sur, a plush bus line with double-decker touring coaches. It's comfortable, they serve sandwiches and play movies. Of course this can lead to some surreal moments, as when my attention flickered between the shantytown through which we passed and Adam Sandler's "Jack and Jill". Apparently the overnight routes offer fully reclining sleeper chairs and a lounge so that when you arrive in the morning you are rested and ready to go.
Huacachina is a small gathering of funky hotels and eateries. The place draws young backpacker tourists who drink and dance all night, but by staying at the Hotel Suisse at the far end of the oasis, we were able to avoid that noise. There are plenty of tourists but also plenty of Peruanos and, on the weekends, day visitors from Ica come up to join in the activities. You can paddle/peddle around the slightly stinky lagoon, but most people come to horse around in the sand. Right behind what was our room, a giant sand dune looms straight up 12 stories or so.
We rented sandboards that are basically rudimentary snowboards. This was my first time trying to talk with someone whose primary tongue is Quechua; I think my Spanish was better than this little old woman with a slight odor and dull gaze, sitting on a blanket renting sandboards. I am thrilled to be learning Spanish, but it is clear that a very large chunk of Peru will remain foreign to me, as foreign as it is to the Peruvians living along the coast.
It is very hard to walk up the steep face of a sand dune. We pooped out fast, and hadn't really gotten much of a ride. We headed over to where a guy wearing a "Future Millionaire" t-shirt was gathering people for dunebuggy rides. The 10-passenger vehicle roared out of the oasis and out towards where the dunes are all you can see. The sensation of sliding was enough to elicit yells from us passengers, but nothing compared to when we would pop over the crest of a dune and drive almost vertically straight down. Other times, the driver would zoom straight up the face and just as the buggy was running out of steam, turn us around to zip back down. Carter hooted and hollered and then, when we had stopped at the top of a giant dune, he did not hesitate to lie on a sandboard and hurtle down the slope. There were adults who opted against the sandboarding, and at one point some other riders felt compelled to come over and ask after the age of this little fearless kid. The dune buggies were so fun, we did it again the next day, Sunday. That evening we enjoyed a dinner on the lagoon, though being around young tourists and the Peruvians who sell to them can be by turns fun or weird.
On that Sunday morning, we hiked up the humongous dune behind our room, this time traversing sideways and walking the crest line which was much easier going. From the top, we got some good views, including the poor neighborhood down on the other side. Carter and I swam in the pool while Jen ran laps around the oasis, we lunched, we dunebuggied, and then we rented a peddle boat. As we peddled towards a large stand of 10ft reeds that turned out to actually be two large rafts, the wind suddenly parted them like Moses and gave us the opportunity to get a close up of some of the cool birds hiding in there, particularly a Black Crowned Heron not 4ft away. At dinner there was a bit of tension as the restaurant's Visa machine was not functioning and my last s/100 bill ($40) was so raggedy that they refused to accept it (as had other vendors). Finally, the waiter walked a block over to stand guard as I used a street ATM, something that is generally a bad idea.
Monday, we returned home.
4 hours south of Lima, as the Atacamac desert starts to push inland, the city of Ica lies in a valley made productive by the Ica river that flows from the Andes and bunches up against the sand dunes. Last weekend, a summit of South American and Arabian leaders inspired the government to decree Monday and Tuesday be holidays in Lima (apparently to quiet the city as the limos shuttled back and forth). We took the opportunity to visit a small oasis literally 5 minutes away from Ica, behind the first big sand dune.
To get there, we took Cruz del Sur, a plush bus line with double-decker touring coaches. It's comfortable, they serve sandwiches and play movies. Of course this can lead to some surreal moments, as when my attention flickered between the shantytown through which we passed and Adam Sandler's "Jack and Jill". Apparently the overnight routes offer fully reclining sleeper chairs and a lounge so that when you arrive in the morning you are rested and ready to go.
Huacachina is a small gathering of funky hotels and eateries. The place draws young backpacker tourists who drink and dance all night, but by staying at the Hotel Suisse at the far end of the oasis, we were able to avoid that noise. There are plenty of tourists but also plenty of Peruanos and, on the weekends, day visitors from Ica come up to join in the activities. You can paddle/peddle around the slightly stinky lagoon, but most people come to horse around in the sand. Right behind what was our room, a giant sand dune looms straight up 12 stories or so.We rented sandboards that are basically rudimentary snowboards. This was my first time trying to talk with someone whose primary tongue is Quechua; I think my Spanish was better than this little old woman with a slight odor and dull gaze, sitting on a blanket renting sandboards. I am thrilled to be learning Spanish, but it is clear that a very large chunk of Peru will remain foreign to me, as foreign as it is to the Peruvians living along the coast.
It is very hard to walk up the steep face of a sand dune. We pooped out fast, and hadn't really gotten much of a ride. We headed over to where a guy wearing a "Future Millionaire" t-shirt was gathering people for dunebuggy rides. The 10-passenger vehicle roared out of the oasis and out towards where the dunes are all you can see. The sensation of sliding was enough to elicit yells from us passengers, but nothing compared to when we would pop over the crest of a dune and drive almost vertically straight down. Other times, the driver would zoom straight up the face and just as the buggy was running out of steam, turn us around to zip back down. Carter hooted and hollered and then, when we had stopped at the top of a giant dune, he did not hesitate to lie on a sandboard and hurtle down the slope. There were adults who opted against the sandboarding, and at one point some other riders felt compelled to come over and ask after the age of this little fearless kid. The dune buggies were so fun, we did it again the next day, Sunday. That evening we enjoyed a dinner on the lagoon, though being around young tourists and the Peruvians who sell to them can be by turns fun or weird.
On that Sunday morning, we hiked up the humongous dune behind our room, this time traversing sideways and walking the crest line which was much easier going. From the top, we got some good views, including the poor neighborhood down on the other side. Carter and I swam in the pool while Jen ran laps around the oasis, we lunched, we dunebuggied, and then we rented a peddle boat. As we peddled towards a large stand of 10ft reeds that turned out to actually be two large rafts, the wind suddenly parted them like Moses and gave us the opportunity to get a close up of some of the cool birds hiding in there, particularly a Black Crowned Heron not 4ft away. At dinner there was a bit of tension as the restaurant's Visa machine was not functioning and my last s/100 bill ($40) was so raggedy that they refused to accept it (as had other vendors). Finally, the waiter walked a block over to stand guard as I used a street ATM, something that is generally a bad idea. Monday, we returned home.
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