Arequipa 2: La Venganza!

I'd be remiss if I didn't write some things about Arequipa before we push on from Peru's "White City" so named, depending on who you ask, for the white volcanic rocks that many of the colonial buildings are made of, or for the white people (The Spanish) who built it into to the semi-metropolis it is today.

Traffic: At least 7 out of every 10 cars on the road is a tiny little yellow taxi. They'll take you anywhere in town for a bout a dollar, and they drive wrecklessly to the point of being suicidal. In fact, I think the only reason that the streets of Arequuipa are not choked with burnt out husks of abandoned, ruined taxis is that all the drivers are equally nuts. Stoplights seem to be respected for the most part, but stop signs are universally ignored. At intersections they just honk the horn and hope for the best. Right of way is determined by whichever traffic stream is most aggressive. Cars on the perpindicular street just wait until the lead can force his way into the middle and grant his street the right of way. There seems to be a perverse sort of logic to it, I suppose because everyone plays by the same insane rules. Nowhere have I seen a place (and I've traveled relatively extensively in latin america) with less regard for the pedestrian right of way, or even the pedestrian right to not get run down like a dog in the street. You know how sometimes when you are waiting to cross the street and a driver will slow down and wave you across? Well, the earth will crash into the sun before that ever happens in Arequipa.

Restaurants around the Plaza de Armas: Like many colonial cities, Arequipa was built out from a central square. The Plaza de Armas is surrounded on one side by a beautiful double-steepled cathedral, one side by munincipal buildoings, and on two sides by restaurants that have second floor balconies overlooking the square. None are particulary good, or cheap, but the balconies do offer a hard to beat dining environment. Each of these places employs a menu pusher whose sole job is to put fannies in the seats, so to speak. They aggressively pursue as you walk by, pressing menus into your hands, boasting of their platos tipicos , and varied drink selections. If you are walking down the block, no matter what you say to one, the next one will be on you instantly. If you say no, they'll say maybe later and thrust business card sized menus into your hands. You can literally come out of one (Chris and I like to take our desert and coffee there in the evenings because they let us play cards and backgammon, and, for all their faults, the ambience and the view can't be beat) and be accosted by one urging you to come to another. If you're in the plaza (across the street), and you even remotely look like youre trying to find a place to eat, they become even more agitated, reacting like sharks to the struggles of a wounded fish. They yell, they wave their menus, some will even actually cross the street in an effort to preemptively engage you. I dont know how I'll decide where to eat back in the states without people yelling the benefits of their particular establishment .

People Complimenting our Spanish: We realize we aren't fluent. We realize we speak like children, we are relatively self-aware, and we certainly aren't stupid. However, at various restaurants and travel agencies, they compliment our Spanish in a vaguely patronizing way, kind of like the 6 year old in the tuxedo at the wedding who looks just like a handsome little man! I can almost feel my cheeks stinging where theyve been metaphorically pinched.

Garbage Trucks: Blare a tinny, synthesizer version of Beethovens Fur Elise as they make their rounds around the city. It never stops (must be some sort of continuous loop) and it is LOUD. Chris and I had occasion to walk along side one for several blocks as its constant stops matched our walking pace nicely. Question: How awesome is it that Arequipa has managed to connect Beethoven and garbage in every citizen's mind? Answer: Mega-Awesome!

Bums: have megaphones, and weve seen not one, but two drunken Santa Clauses in the street. One was particularly forward thinking and wore a nifty green and white outfit as opposed to the traditional red and white. He earned additional points for having a real giant white beard.

Well, to those of you still reading this bizarely long-winded email, congratualtions youve reached the end. Thats all Ive got for Arequipa, and well be out of here by the end of the week. By the way, I sent out a round of postcards yesterday and the stamps cost two dollars each. Suffice to say, I will be sending out no more postcards (unless stamps in Bolivia are cheaper) so youll just have to get your Ben fix from these posts.