Crotch chatch deleted?!

It seems I have accidentally deleted the post in which I described how I was visually assaulted by half the male population of Lima. I was on a cleaning spree in my post editing/deleting list when I got a little overzealous and didn't check to see I was removing the wrong thing. Bummer, because I actually went back and read that bit several times myself. Rest assured, those of you who did get to read it, that when I do rock the leggings, now I do so with something that covers at least 75% of the goods.

Casa, part uno. Welcome to my roof!

My mom has a saying -- if you want to see me, come any time. If you want to see my house, make an appointment. Remembering these words of wisdom has really helped me keep things in perspective while I set up down here. I figured I can do a more detailed tour de casa if it's broken down into parts, so here's the first of several... the roof. Bear in mind that I haven't cleaned anything up here yet, but it has great potential and some lovely scenery.

Up we go...



So here's our rooftop. Let's see, what can I tell you... we are on the second floor of a two story building, directly above a café/sandwich shop. Photoshop yourself in some sweeping, chairs, potted plants, and maybe a table, and you can imagine what it'll look like once we clean it up a bit. That space in the roof down front is a cut out area that has windows for the room we're using as the studio. There's also a storage area. This whole space is just for us. We don't have to share it with anyone. It rocks.



It's overcast here most days. Not sure if that's because we live right near the ocean, or if it's because it's just barely spring and we're still shaking off the winter blahs. I've heard it does get sunny, so I'll update with something brighter later. In the distance you can see the coastal cliff, and in the right/center of the photo you may be able to see the ocean. Squint! Whatever you can see clearly is all that's there before you descend a couple hundred feet to the coastal highway, a slew of mini soccer fields, and an amazing line-up of Pacific surf beaches. The fields are always packed, and the other day I went for a run down to Agua Dulce and counted 70 surfers and 18 fishing boats in the water.



And here's my street, Ave. Grau. It's got enough hustle and bustle to keep the noise rocking through the night. My kids can now officially sleep through loud music, car alarms, taxis honking, people shouting, fire truck sirens... and so on and so forth.




Next up will be a tour of the kitchen. Woot!

Pride in the home and pride in the dome

Number one.
I'm starting to really, really dig this apartment. I figure I had better get with it and get it gleaming and decorated so's I can show you guys some pictures. You know when you first move into a place and there's no furniture and nothing's quite decorated? Well... I moved into this home with three suitcases and three back packs, so I'm, like, way behind in the "having stuff" department.

Today I cleaned the bathroom. Keep in mind, I don't have My Trusty Bucket. Frank has made fun of me for years for toting my cleaning bucket around. It's filled with whatever sorts of natural home cleaning supplies I'm digging at the moment, and they make everything clean and shiny and smell yummy. But I didn't pack a bucket (obviously), and in Lima every cleaning supply is labeled something like "bleach" or "industrial" or "skin removal on the digits is imminent". Lima also has this desert quality about it, so you can sweep and dust but the dirt magically replaces itself in 3.5 minutes. In short, it's an uphill battle.

Number two.
I'm growing out my bangs. My sister-in-law is taking me out for a hair cut soon, and I'm going back to the long locks. It's about to be spring here, so by summer I should be into the long-ass bangs that I can bobby pin in whatever fashion suits my mood. The best way I can describe my feeling is that bangs are making me feel way too uptight lately, and for some reason I really need people to be able to see my forehead. In the same way some people think glasses make them look more intelligent, I feel like people here need to be able to see my forehead so I can project my thoughts outward more clearly. My Spanish is okay, but really I need all the help I can get. In short, read my thoughts, please.

It's the little differences. I mean, they got the same shit over there that we got here, but it's just – it's just there it's a little different.

That's Vincent Vega in Pulp Fiction, explaining Europe to Jules. Glass of beer at the movie theater in Paris. Mayonnaise on french fries in Holland, and the hash bars in Amsterdam. Yeah baby, you'd dig it the most. I think if Vincent ever visited Lima, he might have similar things to say. Aside from being one of the world's top producers of what I've heard is top notch cocaine, there are some interesting differences between Peru and the eastern coast of the United States. Regarding everyday living, and taking into account the fact that I don't do coke, this conversation will go a lot further if I begin with differences we can find at my local Metro supermarket.

1. No lemons. Seriously. My neighborhood Metro has three varieties of limes, one of which comes in what appears to be a seven-to-ten pound bag, but I would be hard pressed to find something that would work with iced tea.

2. The good dish detergent comes in solid/cake form. It's called Sapolio and you rub your wet scrubbie sponge around on it, then it foams up as you clean your dishes. Weird, but good.

3. The eggs come in 18-packs, unrefrigerated. The egg crate packages are bottom half only, but no worries -- the containers are shrink wrapped and each egg comes stamped with its very own expiration date.

4. No American cheese. Try explaining that one to your two-year-old when he asks why his beloved grilled cheese is yucky.

5. Avocados are amazing. Huge and creamy, and cost about eighty cents.

6. Much like European movie theaters, the Metro is equipped with its own liquor store, complete with tuxedoed attendants. Also, if you need to find anything in the regular part of the market, all you have to do is point to a store employee, shout "Amigo/a!" to get his or her attention, and they walk over to help you find your mystery item.

7. Sugar abounds in the cereal aisle. No lie, Corn Flakes are the only thing with less than 14 grams of sugar per serving. So guess what the kids eat now instead of Cheerios (since there are no Cheerios here).

8. The salt is sold in plastic bags, and looks like powder. I suppose this is due to the population's affinity for cocaine... and with that, it appears our discussion has come full circle. Oh, there's also the metric system, but that's a whole other post.

Tune in next time to find out how my Peruvian apartment is different from your house. Mi casa is a little different than tú casa. Adventure, I say. Adventure. Oh! and my sister-in-law brought over a pack of Babysec diapers for Livi, and they're far superior and less expensive than anything else I've tried. They're a total 90s throwback, emblazoned with junior Looney Tunes characters. Cringe, but oh well, 'cause I'm usin' 'em.

It sucks to be famous.

Is it just me, or are all the famous people kicking the bucket lately? Today I was saddened to read that Patrick Swayze lost his battle with cancer. If you´re reading from the great big up above, Mr. Swayze, just know that I will always remember you as Bodhi in Point Break. Since the first time I saw that movie (1991?!), I think about Bodhi every time I´m stuck in traffic, and every time I see anyone skydiving.

I also have to add that living in another country sure does make me feel far away from everything. Duh, but it does. Even half of what´s on the BBC here is dubbed in Spanish. Luckily one of my faves, Top Gear, is still all English. Totally and completely English.

Not much happening. Adjusting and whatnot. Waiting for the warmer weather, wiping little butts, and trying out several varieties of diapers. Again, not the same, and with Livi´s constant pooing, I´m going out tomorrow to hit up the Pampers. The Huggies here just aren´t Huggie enough, an issue I certainly did not anticipate. I´ll keep you posted on all the excitement.

If you need some Peruvian erotic statuettes, I'm your go-to gal.

I'm amused at how my kids really don't seem to notice we're now living on the other side of the planet. I guess by "the other side" I just mean the bottom half instead of the top half, but you know what I mean. They're still cranky when they should be cranky, hungry when they should be hungry, and running around whenever space permits. The absurd amount of street noise doesn't seem to bother them, so that's good. I think it gave me nightmares the first few days, though, and also contributed to a marked increase in jaw gnashing. Ow.

This afternoon Mom and I took the kids out to the Indian Market, which is a little outdoor space with different vendors who sell variations on the same basic set of items. It's a nice spot to get typical Peruvian goods and statues of Incas with extremely exaggerated-sized penises. It always makes me laugh to see such things, though, because it reminds me of The Birdcage. And I love that movie. Agador Spartacus.

So there are a couple of different things that happened today. One, which some of you may already know about, is that my mom got adventurous and went to the market (by herself!) to buy beer. And napkins, and hand soap. But the beer is what we really care about. I walked into the kitchen and found her happily hacking away at the thick shrink wrap around the 12-pack with our kitchen machete. I nearly passed out from excitement -- it was awesome! I think I said something like "Go Mom!" or "Hack it, woman!", and all I can remember is that she seemed extremely satisfied with herself and handled that knife pretty darn well. Maybe a little too well... or perhaps it's just that a good Irish woman never lets a little plastic barrier come between herself and her beer.

Also, tonight was a much needed bath night for the kids. Imagine my excitement here, where not only are we sans bathtub, but the kids simply cannot drink the water. So here's how we do for Livi... A little washy cloth wipedown standing next to the shower, then soap the hair and lean her backwards over the drain. Not too bad, she actually liked it and I think she even felt a little glamorous. So when it was Nico's turn, I somehow convinced him to let me give him a shower with the hose/spray nozzle. He was so proud of himself, and I have to say I was really proud of him. As a reward, I made him a big pot of popcorn, and he went to sleep as happy as a clean little clam.

Welp, I'm going to enjoy my own bowl of popcorn, a beer, a little stroll on the roof, and probably hit the hay before 11pm. My mom flies home tomorrow night. I'll obviously be the person to blame if she misses her flight, because I don't want her to leave. I've already been practicing some soft, subtle weeping on my husband's shoulder. *sigh*