Happy New Year from...The Steel City

Roberto Clemento bridge welcomes me into the "City of Champions."

From the very beginning, the end was in sight. In my first blog post, I talked about how the six "Real World Lima" interns--Millie, Maureen, Caroline, Eric, Andreas, and myself--were in the position to have a "brief, uncomplicated fling with Lima." More naive words could not have been written.

The honeymoon phase of life in Lima is over, but there are unresolved feelings to explore. Half of us are home for the holidays, while the other half remain in Lima with new jobs or are off-the-grid somewhere in South America. Even though I'm glad to be in the company of family and friends, my experience here in Pittsburgh can only be described as...disorienting. I keep looking for bins in which I can toss my toilet paper (instead of flushing it) and noting the general absence of noise--and traffic--in western Pennsylvania.

Everything has started to bloom in South America, but it's time for me to slow down for awhile, to settle into the fog and gray of winter.

For now, Yaka 'Lita is going into hibernation. But I've made it my New Year's resolution to not be away for long.

It´s (Not) Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas, Guzman the Merman, and Other Peruvian Christmas Classics

Faithful readers, in the spirit of the season, it´s time for our first annual Christmas sing-along. Or rather, since this isn´t a live performance and I´m not about to upload any videos of me squeaking my way through ¨Silent Night¨ or ¨Joy to the World¨, it´s time for our first annual Christmas sing-in-your-own-head as you read-along.  Only this isn´t your typical holiday special; it´s Christmas done south of the Equator.

I've talked before about how the inversion of seasons south of the Equator has messed up my psyche, and now that the holiday season is upon us, that claim couldn't be any truer.  While folks back home are bundling up in their warmest scarves and sweaters, I've spent my weekends at country clubs and beaches. While they´re browsing the local nurseries for the perfect pines, I´m growing fond of palm trees.

While the local supermarkets, casinos, and department stores have strung festive garlands over their edifices  and stocked their shelves with bearded, bundled Santas and hot chocolate, I just can´t seem to find the holiday spirit amidst the ocean fog and muggy weather. But perhaps my sentiments would better be demonstrated in musical form:

Guzman the Merman

Sing along

Guzman the mermaid is a fairy tale they say/He was made of sand but the betchy girls know/how he came to life one day. Oh! Guzman the merman was a jolly happy soul/with one bottle cap and one lime nipple/and all the rum his gills could hold…

It´s (Not) Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Sing along 

It´s (not) beginning to look a lot like Christmas/Ev´rywhere you go/Take a look at the sand, glistening once again/Beneath the Lima sunset all aglow…

O Palm Tree

Sing along

O palm tree, o palm tree/ much pleasure doth thou bring me.

Where´s The Snow? Where´s the Snow? Where´s the Snow?

Sing along

 

Oh the weather outside ´s delightful/but our beach burns are so frightful/To Chincha and back we go/Where´s the snow? Where´s the snow? Where´s the snow?

Mashup Finale: Up on Diego´s Beach House Rooftop/ We´re a Couple of Misfits/Deck the Halls

Sing along 1, 2, and 3.

Up on Diego´s beach house rooftop Jennie paused/Out jumped Josué Córdova/Down to the kitchen for chips and dogs/All for the little ones Christmas joys. Ho, ho, ho! Who wouldn´t go? Ho, ho, ho! Seriously: Who wouldn´t go? Up on the rooftop beer tops went click!/ Down through the gullets of all us misfits.

Ohhhhhhh! We´re a couple of misfits/ we´re a couple of misfits/ What´s the matter with misfits/ That´s where we fit in. We may be different from the rest/Who decides the test/Of what is really best?

Fast away the old year passes/fa la la la la la, la la la la/ Hail the new,ye lads and lasses/ fa la la la la, la la la la./ Sing we joyous all together/ fa la la la la, la la la la/ We rejoice for sunny weather/ fa la la la la, la la la la.

I´ll be home for Christmas. Expect more caroling. And next time, please, stay on pitch.

September is the New February

It´s September, but it feels like February. I don´t mean that just in terms of the winter weather here south of the Equator—the overcast skies, the lingering cold that settles into the tip of my nose—but in terms of the way the weather makes me feel. I can identify these feelings in the faces of passersby, all bundled up in their winter jackets and wearing fashionable boots: they´re tired of eating soups and drinking teas to keep warm, tired of putting an extra blanket on the bed at night, tired of spending their days in the office and their nights inside. I´m tired, too.

But wait—that´s not the way I usually feel in September, That´s the way I usually feel in February.

View from the office window: February in September.

At home, September means fall. Fall has always been my favorite season. Just one year ago, I wrote about the crispness and colors of autumn in Western Pennsylvania for a memoir class at Chatham.  I wrote about the smell of bonfire smoke after a football game, the tart taste of apple cider on a chilly night, the way the first frost covers the lawn like a delicate spider web. It´s the time of year when friends and family are talking about the first homework assignments and the first tailgates of football season.  Even though I know these things are really happening, in my mind Pittsburgh is just how I left it: tourists ambling down Grandview Avenue with half-melted ice cream cones, workers peering out their office windows, restless with the summer heat.

The stagnation of time is a curious component to living abroad.  I know time is passing where I am, but I can´t imagine it passing back home. For those I´ve left behind, the only time they can imagine passing for me is the time it will take me to come home. They´ve never seen me in this context, crossing the crowded streets of Miraflores or ordering coffee in Spanish. I won´t be the same way they left me at the airport.

It´s September, but it´s February. It´s winter, and I´m a long way from home.