Seriously, someone needs to help that dying bird

I’ve made it safely to Peru.

When I left Toronto, they had to de-ice the plane, but when I arrived I felt like I’d die from wearing pants and shoes. It has been hot and humid, but I’d take that any day over the Canadian winter.

When I arrived I went through customs and had an officer who didn’t speak any English, and you may already know I speak poco espanol. He somehow didn’t understand my form so he wrote on the stamp in my passport the number 30, and presumably would have typed in the same number on his computer record. After talking with the Smiths’ laywer the next day, I found out that now I have to apply and have everything in order for my visa application before 30 days instead of 90. At least I’ll have that out of the way soon.

Other than my luggage arriving partially unzipped, and the Air Canada’s less than stellar services, the flight here wasn’t that bad. Only, for the first time in my life I was on a flight with many latinos and fewer gringos, and I got to observe many things about the Peruvian culture just by the flight and the arrival at the airport. The main thing that could summarize my observatiosn– Peruvians don’t believe in line ups, waiting their turn, or listening to instructions. I don’t know if this is true of the whole, but I admit I’m making a generalization. Instead of giving way to another person and we all get our turn eventually, you just mob your way through and make yourself oblivious to everybody else. I think the stewardesses did a good job of keeping their cool on the flight when they had to repeat themselves over and over to everybody around me. I was not frustrated, but definitely amused about it.

I also bought a cell phone yesterday, and will post my new number on Facebook (yes, I’m one of those people who do that), put my credit on it, and found out that since it costs your minutes to make calls, but is free to receive them, that what people will do is call you and hang up when you answer. This way you know it was them who called, and you call back and it’s a free call for them to have reached you. Sneaky.

And finally, I’m sure you were wondering what my title was about. There’s people who ride these ice cream bikes down here selling treats. Kinda like the dicky dees we used to have as a child in Canada. They blow this weird annoying and unique whistle, almost like a kazoo. It’s an annoying sound, and sounds like some kind of bird being killed. It’s taking me some getting used to because it is being blown all afternoon in the heat of the day. Everybody else here has tuned it out, but I’m still noticing it and worried because it sounds like an animal. The picture used for this entry, is my current room at the Smiths until I’ve found something of my own. For all intents and purposes, it’s outside. But with the fan on full blast I’m able to survive.

Thanks for checking up on me and praying,

Blessings and fire on your head.