First, it was in my best interest to take public transportation, and I had to get back to Miraflores to book my trip to Machu Picchu through a travel agency. Tess walked me through most of taking a bus from her place to the stop I needed (describing it as "a blue bus across the street after you take two lefts") and made it sound so simple. Unfortunately, as with many things, the reality was more complicated than the instructions. When I got to the intersection of the street, though, I was suddenly filled with doubt - Was I on the right side of the street? There are TWO kinds of blue buses?! What is the guy saying? Why aren't people who are getting on the bus paying? - and I chickened out. I tried, I really did, but my deep fear for public buses got to me in the end. There's something about not really knowing what direction I'm going, not knowing where to get off, not knowing where I am that freaks me out about public buses. Even when I take them in Austin, it's always an adventure.
I decided to walk to the travel agency, and it took them forever (about an hour) to book everything for me. I'm always a little skeptical of things I buy when I'm abroad, and/or when I'm using cash. I think a theme for today is that uncertainty is very unnerving for me, but I think it was justified because I dropped $260 (that was the cheaper quote I had gotten) on train, bus, and entrance tickets as well as an English-speaking guide to Machu Picchu - something I have never done before and will probably never do again. It hurts my soul a little to hand over so much cash, but everyone who's ever been says it's worth it, and who can go through Peru without stopping in Machu Picchu? That's like going to France and not seeing the Eiffel Tower. You will regret it.
I then took the more organized bus system to the center of Lima. It was honestly more like a subway system than a train because it worked the same way - swipe your card, get on the right platform, maps everywhere, stops clearly announced. Everything went well, except that I took the wrong bus (are you surprised? I'm not). Luckily, I was able to figure it out thanks to a handy tool called Google Maps. Seriously, a lifesaver.
When I got to the center of Lima, I could already tell it was very different from the suburbs. It was a lot more bland, for one. The streets were lined with lots and lots of tall, off-white buildings and many of them were under construction. There was very little street art anywhere. Secondly, it was a lot more crowded, and I finally understood the reviews of Lima that talked about it being similar to many other big cities. The sidewalks are also lined with a million street vendors selling all kinds of foods and drinks, from packaged chips to squeezed-in-front-of-your-face pineapple juice. Like in many other cities, almost every stand is exactly the same, making me wonder how much these people really make in a day.
Anyway, I made my way to the Plaza de Armas (main square), which was unfortunately blocked off due to the Chinese Prime Minister's impending arrival. I was still able to get a glimpse of the square, which was really, really beautiful.
I didn't really have an itinerary for the day, so I walked around and found a beautiful church-looking place to go in, and got to see Lima from a tower, which was awesome! Unfortunately, the view was not that great, again due to the bland walls of buildings and the construction that was happening. The church had a great interior, though!
One of the things I saw when I was on top of the tower was a little park nearby, so I decided to check it out. I loved it because it was everything you'd expect from a park in the city - street performances, food stands, people just sitting around. It was connected to a bridge that crossed over what looked like a manmade stream - it looked interesting, so I decided to check it out. Turns out there was nothing tourist-y to see there. Instead, it was a busy street with lots and lots of locals, and walking along it reminded me of Taipei because of the street vendors with their products spread all over a blanket on the floor. Definitely interesting contrast to the areas frequented by tourists.
It was at that point that I realized there were two big attractions that I still had yet to see. I hustled it to the Monastery of San Francisco, which has catacombs underground. Unfortunately, I was a little too late to see them, but I still walked into the church part, which was very lovely.
I hadn't realized at that time how far the other attraction, the Park of the Reserve, would be. Since it gets dark at around 6 pm and I did not want to be out and about for much longer after that, I had to really think about whether going to see the Magic Water Circuit would be worth it. It was 1.4 miles away (walking would take about 30 minutes), already 5 pm, and full of traffic (cars and foot). I decided just to go for it because I didn't know when or if I'd ever have the chance to do that again. Turns out, it was worth it. I wish I had more time to really explore the park, but it was made of 10 different water circuits/fountains complete with colored lights. Surrounded by lush grasses and flowers, it was definitely a sight to see. I kind of appreciated that I had gone later in the day to see it because the colors showed up better in the dimmer light.
On my way back, I took the Metropolitano bus again. The buses were crammed full of people and the line for people to reload their fare cards was out the station entrance. I was squished between a ton of people - worse than the New York City subway by far. I could feel people all around me. This lady in front of me breast fed her baby, and I was just unnerved by the whole scene, but I finally made it back.
One of the biggest things that I noticed was that I experienced the catcalling that I had avoided in Barranco and Miraflores. I heard "bonita" and "chica" several times, but what bothered me the most was hearing "China". I've talked a little about this before since it draws parallels to my experience in Ghana, but it's a weird thing to be called out for me because Austin and Taiwan, where I have spent probably close to 97% of my life, have lots of Asian people. My race was being brought out to the forefront by random strangers, men who basically just uttered the word and kept on walking. I'm not sure if it's supposed to be insulting (I assume not), but it's something that happens only abroad.
When I got back, I was able to talk to Antonio and Tess and little bit about their lives (they met in Buenos Aries - awesome!), their travels, and the experiences that I had in the city today. It was nice, having that time to share my thoughts not with the computer or myself but with someone else. That extra money I spent on AirBnb rather than a hostel seems to have been worth it.
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