My Grandpa passed away on Thursday evening. It’s all come as such of a shock, I’m not sure I’ve really processed it yet. When I look back to when my Gramps died almost this time last year, I remember being so racked with pain that it took over my whole body, that I cried for hours and at any reminder of him. This time, I took the news as though completely numb. It feels as if I have no tears left; I haven’t cried, nor even told anyone here about it. I don’t think I can take their sympathy.
I found out the news in an email from my Mum; she’d been trying to phone, but my English phone had no credit on it and my Peruvian phone wasn’t working either. Reading about his death in black and white made the fact irrefutable but somehow impossible to take in as reality. I feel so far away from it all. I am surrounded by so many distractions that I think I’m avoiding the reality, and when I eventually confront it, the emotions will come flooding in. For now, all I can do is carry on.
Just after I received the news, I had to leave with the family to go to their beach house, an hour and a half south of Lima. I just had time to reply to my mum before Omar was calling us all to get us loaded into the car, and I didn’t have time to think about what had just happened. Suddenly, we were being rushed out the door with our heaps of belongings, completely disproportionate to the amount of time we were going to be away from the flat. We looked like we were moving house. I couldn’t help but laugh when someone called the lift on floor seven, only to find a disorganised mess of people and luggage. I was even carrying the pet rabbit in his little cage.
He’d had a traumatic day, poor Rex. He’d spent most of it at what we have affectionately termed the bunny spa - i.e. the vet’s surgery, where he goes every six weeks (more often than I have my hair cut) to have a bath and blow-dry, a groom and a bunny pedicure. This may sound nice and relaxing to you and me, but bearing in mind he is a rabbit, it’s probably quite a stressful experience.
Anyway, we were soon on our way, the big four-by-four filled to bursting with bags, people, food, blankets and a bunny. The ascent into the mountains began almost immediately, as I realised with a shock when Nicole exhaled a spectacularly over-dramatic gasp-like breath to try and pop her ears (an amusing habit which continued to make me jump throughout the journey). We were just like any other family; the parents were arguing over the directions, the teenager was complaining about the Wi-Fi and the little girl was moaning she was hungry. I had to smile to myself; some things never change, no matter where you are in the world. As soon as we were out of Lima, we pulled in at a petrol station to fill up and buy supplies for the road. The petrol stations here are still like the ones we had years ago, with staff working alongside the pumps to fill up the vehicles.
Once we had all bought food and drinks, everyone seemed to perk up, and we spent the rest of the journey singing along to Natsumi’s iPod, which she plugged in to the speakers. I knew a lot of the songs already, since a lot were American or English, or South American ones I’d picked up whilst in Peru. The best fun were the Shakira songs, which I only knew in English - so contributed my own version to the singalong.
When we arrived at the beach house, it had long gone dark and the air was fresh and cool. Breathing in the sea air was a blissful contrast to the smog of Lima, and I could only imagine how beautiful it would be there in the summer. As it was, the beach house was just as cold as the flat in Lima, although it was also just as modern and comfortable. Omar and the girls showed me around the complex whilst Pily rustled us up something to eat.
The Diaz Muñoz’ beach house is a modern, white building of two storeys, the ground floor comprising a kitchen-diner, utility room, three bedrooms with two sets of bunk beds each and a bathroom to share, and a master bedroom with en suite. Going up a set of stone steps takes you to a small, tiled roof terrace with seating and a small swimming pool. Downstairs, outside the main door, is another square patio surrounded by a stone wall, where the family put specially-designed cushions to sit on.
The house is part of a modern complex of a hundred-odd properties, all similar but with designs as directed by their owners. They have to comply with the rules of the complex in order to maintain the overall look and feel, in an effort to encroach on the environment as little as possible. As yet, it’s only half-finished, since construction is limited to the low season between April and September, but it will be beautiful when it’s complete. There are three large pools and plenty of open spaces, all opening onto a vast sea front and surrounded by majestic dunes.
The next day, we woke up at around 9 to try and get the most out of the day. I’d been excited for a hot shower since Pily had told me that the house had hot water; unfortunately, I’d forgotten that Peruvians seem to have a different take on temperature to what I do. After waiting for ten minutes for it to warm up, I had to accept that it wasn’t going to get any better than slightly lukewarm and took the plunge.
Thankfully, just a couple of hours’ car ride later, we were entering warmer climes; in fact, the temperature gauge on the car was rising every few seconds, with every bit of progress into the mountain valley. By the time we reached the town of Lunahuana, the temperature had reached the mid-twenties and we were glad of our shorts.
The first thing we needed to do then was find a rafting company; Omar did this by winding down the window and casually bartering with people as we cruised slowly down the little street in our massive grey jeep with its tinted windows. When we’d found one for a reasonable price, we parked up and went to get ready.
The journey to the river in the company minibus was an adventure in itself. The windows were rattling, the door barely shut and poor Natsumi practically had some guy sitting on her lap. I hoped the rafting team themselves would be a bit more safety-conscious. Luckily, as soon as we got out the van, we were supplied with some very attractive life jackets and helmets, as well as some blue and yellow plastic oars. After a short safety briefing and an explanation of the main commands (as there would be an expert on the back), we were on our way.
At first, it was absolutely terrifying and I kept thinking I was going to fall in, but I soon got into it and spent most of the rest of the time screaming and laughing. Nicole and Natsumi kept us amused, too - Nicole because she wasn’t paddling and kept on telling us to go faster, and Natsumi because every time we approached a camera, she abandoned her rowing efforts in favour of posing with her arm behind her head like a model.
By the time we emerged from the raft, exhausted and soaking wet, we were all more than ready for lunch and happy to sit down in the nearest cafe. I had an amazing arroz con mariscos (rice with vegetables) which was about the size of two normal meals and contained all kinds of seafood I’d never seen before. I didn’t have any idea what most of them were - some were in shells, some looked like little black worms, some were tiny little tentacles. I was quite proud of myself for being so adventurous.
The downside of this was that I was ridiculously full for the zip wires we went on straight afterwards, after getting a complimentary taxi high up into the mountains. I could barely tuck my legs up when the instructor told me to. Despite this, my extra weight in rice and seafood didn’t break the zip wire and it was amazing fun. By the second wire I’d got my technique sorted and flew to the other side.
It was early evening by this stage, so we decided to make our way back to the beach house to collect our things - and Rex the bunny, of course - and have a bite to eat before heading back to Lima. It was late by the time we got back, so I’d missed the chance to take Evelyn up on her offer of going out (as she’d also invited me to a party the night before). Nevertheless, after a busy day and another fun journey singing, I was grateful for my (cold) shower and bed.
On Saturday morning I was doing some planning in my room when Nicole tentatively knocked on my door. She was watching Oz, the Great and Powerful (in Spanish) and wanted me to watch it with her, so we snuggled up on the playroom sofa together. She’d never seen or even heard of the original Wizard of Oz, so I was really excited to tell her about it and show her some clips on YouTube.
That afternoon, I had nothing planned so had asked Pily how I could get to Miraflores. I think she was worried or just felt bad for me going alone, because she said that she would go with me in the car, which was nice. I told her I wanted to get a few souvenirs for people back home, but when we looked in Parque Kennedy (the most famous park) there wasn’t much to be found. It was pleasant to look around the area anyway, as I got to see all of the little side streets, the church where all the cats seem to hang out, and the town hall. We also went to the expensive new shopping centre right on the sea front, which is very impressive. The prices are extortionate, and it’s clearly aimed at Lima’s nouveaux rich (quite a poignant contrast to the poverty that exists in districts like Pamplona).
After we had seen the best parts of Miraflores and I had sent off some postcards (which I doubted would get to England before I did), we got back in the car and drove to Plaza San Miguel so I could buy my ticket to the Mistura festival. Mistura is an international food festival in Lima, which takes place over two weeks at the beginning of September. Food enthusiasts from all over the world travel to this event, in which the best restaurants of Peru set up stalls where you can try their staple dishes at an affordable price. It’s become so popular that the organisers have had to change its location to the beach, where there’s more space.
The ticket system in Lima is bizarre. For all major events, including concerts (like the massive One Direction tour that’s coming here soon), you have to buy your tickets in person at small ticket booths located in different malls throughout the city. The one we used was located in a corner of the supermarket Wong in Plaza San Miguel; it’s lucky I’m living with a Peruvian family, otherwise I wouldn’t have had a clue where to go.
Apart from buying my Mistura ticket, we had another important task: I needed to get money out before my trip on Monday. I’m so glad I thought about it in advance, because every cashpoint (and we tried nearly ten) rejected my debit card and refused to give me any money. I literally didn’t know what I would do if I couldn’t get any money. Even though they would probably have lent it to me without a problem, I just felt that asking for money from anyone here would be far too much to ask.
In the early hours of Sunday morning, I heard my phone ring. It was my mum, and knowing she would only phone in an emergency, I panicked. In a daze, I picked up the phone and asked what was wrong. It was 10 in the morning there and my bank had called her to say that there had been suspicious activity on my account. At first, in my half-asleep state, I thought the worst; then, when she told me the amounts that had been requested, I felt sure that they equated to the amounts in dollars that I’d tried to get out earlier that day. My mum, who was a wreck of nerves from having all this responsibility, said that she had confirmed the activity as legitimate because she didn’t want my card to be blocked and for me to be left without any money, so now it was just a waiting game until I could get back onto my online banking in half an hour. Sure enough, everything was in order. The next thing to do was try and take out more cash the next day.
The next morning, I woke up late, having had a disturbed night - not only from being woken up by my phone, but also having been kept awake by the most horrendous collection of insect bites I’ve ever had in my life - all from being out at sunset in Lunahuana. Once we were all ready, the five of us drove to the nearby district of Magdalena, which had little streets full of shops and bakeries. After a walk around and a taste of some delicious Peruvian chocolate, we got back into the car to head to the Plaza.
By this time it was mid-afternoon, so the girls split off to go to T.G.I. Fridays while Pily and Omar took me for a beautiful last lunch in a sushi bar with a Peruvian twist. I’m not usually all that keen on sushi, but this was incredible. We had soup to start, followed by fifty different makis to share, all accompanied by Peruvian sauces and with extra ingredients to give them added flavour. I even had a pretty good go at eating it all with chopsticks (with only a few minor hiccoughs, which we all had a laugh about - maintaining my reputation as the clumsy English girl).
After lunch, we met up with the girls again and took Nicole to Divercity, an entertainment park where kids get to pretend to be adults. Nicole loves it, and I can see why - they get fake money and credit cards; there are fake banks, supermarkets, you name it. Nicole had been excited all day.
While we were waiting for Nicole, the rest of us had a look around the shops, stopping for coffee on the way. By the time she was ready to go home, it was past 7 o’clock and we had to get back to tie up some loose ends before I set off on my travels tomorrow. Pily went through all the details of my return for me, since they leave for Mexico next Friday. She’s arranged for me to be met at the airport by her friend Doris, who will then accompany in Rafael’s taxi to the apartment. Doris will have all the keys and the code to the alarm, and will stay overnight to make sure I get to the airport the next day. There are a lot of components to this plan and I’m a little worried something might go wrong, but nevertheless, I trust Pily entirely.
When I’d finished packing all my things into the two bags Pily and Natsumi have lent me for my trip, I went back downstairs and sat with Natsumi and Omar while they made lists of Latin American musicians so I can download them when I get home. Then I showed everyone some photos of my family, some videos of their bands and some of my choirs. It was strange that we’d had all this time together but all these things had been forgotten until now, but I was glad I’d finally got round to showing them.
I was just getting into bed when Pily knocked on my door. She handed me two small silver objects; one was a phone charm of a little angel, the other a keyring with a guitar and a Green Peace sign. The angel had Nicole’s name on the back, and the guitar had Natsumi’s on it - they were their confirmation gifts, and they’d given them to me so I’d always have something with me to remind me of them. It felt really special, and I will always cherish them.
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