Top 5 Most Difficult (Mundane) Things to Do In Lima

A traveler´s truth that my roommates and I have come to know well is that the things we take for granted at home (i.e. buying groceries or mailing a letter) can be big adventures in a foreign country.  At one point or another, the most mundane activities have left all of us puzzled, looking for clarification and explanation from Peruvian friends and co-workers.  Cultural confusion—as opposed to culture shock—is the most accurate label for classifying the following five mundane activities: 

5.) Buying a cell phone
By the third week here, a few of the other interns and I were feeling nostalgic for the convenience, portability, and privacy that a personal cell phone offers. Thus we traversed afar (down the street) to the neighborhood Claro store, one of the biggest cell phone providers in Peru. 

It was a Thursday night, but the place was teeming with disgruntled businessmen and disinterested teenagers, all with one cell-phone related issue or another. But the problem with the phone store wasn´t the sheer volume of traffic: it was the number of lines.  If you´re hoping to get an issue resolved at Claro, you´ll have to stand in at least three separate lines: one to discuss your problem/purchase, one to pay for your problem/purchase, and one to pick up your purchase.

That description might not do justice to the stress. You´re probably thinking that the store has nice, orderly lines right next to one another for speed and efficiency—a sweet, if naïve, thought. So now picture that there are 25 different lines with about a half dozen customers in each, packed so tightly together that it becomes nearly impossible to tell whether or not you´re in the right line. And the most frustrating part? The first salesperson you meet always has easy access to the storage cabinet that contains the cell phone you need. Wanted: efficiency expert.

The most stressful ATM en el mundo.

4.) Using Your Bank´s ATM
Yes, you read that subtitle correctly. This isn´t a grievance against using any old ATM in Peru, but the ATM where I actually set up a bank account one month ago. Insert card, get no cash. I´ve tried to withdraw soles.  I´ve tried to withdraw dollars.  I´ve tried to withdraw different amounts each time. I´ve tried to withdraw it at different branch locations. I´ve tried to withdraw it from checking and savings. Tried to withdraw it holding my breath, with fingers crossed, with one eye open…

3.) Crossing the street
My friend Eric describes crossing the streets of Lima as having ¨a sort of Darwinian logic.¨ In this mad world, a ¨walk¨ sign doesn´t mean walk, and a driver beeping and waving his hand at you doesn´t mean you have the right of way. 

2.) Going to the movies
In the absence of cable or Netflix, my roommates and I decided to venture out for an evening film at Larcomar. We surveyed the not-so-thrilling selection of movies until we found one that caught our eye: Me enamoré de Nueva York (New York, I Love You).  Theater #12—4:50 p.m.  Price: S/. 18. My roommate approached the counter window to purchase our tickets:

--¨Hola. Tres para Me enamoré en Nueva York.¨
The cashier pointed to another line--shocker.  (Why are there always so many lines?) We sauntered over there, confused about the direction we should be heading.  With each line we passed, the cashier pointed to the next one, until finally we were at the exact opposite end of the place we started.  We waited in line some five minutes more before we reached the front of the new line.
--¨Hola. Tres para Me enamoré en Nueva York.¨ My roommate tried again.  This time it sounded more like a question.
--¨Setenta y cinco soles.¨ Seventy-five soles?  Mathematically, that couldn´t be right.
--¨¿Cuánto cuestan?¨ My roommate repeated.
--¨Setenta y cinco.  Es sala bar.¨ 
--¨Que es esto?¨ What´s that?
--¨VIP.¨ The cashier said.  VIP? What did that mean—that they were going to deliver gold-dusted popcorn to our seats?
--¨No, queremos los regulares.¨

The cashier shook his head, annoyed.  Defeated, we got out of line.

1.) Buying 1 Liter Bottles of Beer
There´s not much to relay about this one because six weeks later, we´re still confused.  My roommate managed to buy a liter her first day here but has been unsuccessful ever since.  We´ve been able to buy beer cans and small bottles, bottles of liquor and wine, but not liters of beer.  Here are a few theories we´ve had, in flashes of brilliance and confusion:

•    One liter permitted per customer (Disproven)
•    Purchase prohibited past a certain hour (Half-disproven: Sale of alcoholic beverages in supermarkets ends at 11PM.  But we haven´t been able to purchase the bottles at more reasonable hours either, like 3PM).
•    Purchase limited to Peruvian citizens/banned for expat consumption (No strong evidence to support this, though a leading theory for some time.)

All we know is that the word ¨deposit¨ has been thrown around a few times, but how that deposit is made, and how that first bottle of beer can be purchased, remains a mystery.