Saturday, May 31, Lima and Travel to Iquitos

After waking every 20 minutes, I touched down in Lima at 4:30 AM. It was relatively easy to get through immigration and baggage shenanigans, until I had to take the amplifier I was carrying for our street dramas through security. "What is that!?" I stammered, "speaker, amplifier, musica," to one stern guard, while another said, "it's ok, just push the button," which I am convinced he knew would light up red. Still, the x-ray and searches took only minutes and I was soon rechecking bags for Iquitos. We then met Mark and Cesar, two YWAM (http://www.ywam.org/) staffers that would lead our efforts. Cesar is a Lima native with a big smile, spiked hair, only a slight tint of Spanish in his English, and an air of friendly confidence. Mark is a wiry and energetic story-teller that looks a bit like a young Keith Richards (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oxymoron) with a faith that has been built on years of missions experience. I stepped away from the group to go the bano, which felt a bit like riding my bike away from my parents for the first time, as any conversation would likely end in "No hablo..." and a grin that says "you stupid gringo."

The air outside was rich and musty (a spot of rain had fallen, a portion of only a few inches that Lima receives annually), with smells of vegetation and light smoke. The early hour meant an empty parking area, where "Capitaine" had a small bus waiting and took us to Cesar's home to rest. We travelled fairly clean roads past some manufacturing plants, retail big boxes, and colorfully painted homes. Cesar lives in a clean and spacious pad with colorful walls and utilitarian furniture. We passed a bakery on the way to the second floor, which was heaven. Cesar and Mark bought 20 rolls, some ham and cheese, and a bottle of manzana yogurt. We ate in an awkward fatigue-induced stupor until Mark shared a story. I slept on an air mattress in a room cooled with a window open a crack.

Like the kid in the Disney commercial, I was too excited to sleep, and was up a couple hours before everyone else, with time to read, reflect, and prepare mentally and spiritually. Once Mark and Cesar were up and about, I accompanied them along with Tim Farmer and Danielle to a market area to explore a bit. Traffic is not nearly as crazy as India, but still worthy of serious attention where you're walking. Cesar told us to keep walking as they went to talk to the money changer, as rates can vary based on clientele, and a few obvious Americans don't help. We then passed three long lines at ATM's before finding a reasonable place to get some Peruvian soles. Apparently workers get checks every Friday and cash them Saturday morning, all at the same time. We found a fruit stand, filled with color and flavor.

We got back to an anxious Pastor Roger (PR), ready to head to his favorite Peruvian greasy spoon, Miguel's. Famous for sandwiches piled high with whatever you'd like and topped with a fried egg and cheese whether you like it or not, they were also reportedly safe for unaccustomed visitors. I got a chicken sandwith with two chorizo patties and the standard egg and cheese, delightful, washed down with some Inca Kola, a bright yellow Coke product with the flavor of sweet bubble gum (and interestingly, the Peruvian beverage market leader (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inca_Kola)).

From there, we were picked up by Capitaine and dropped at the airport again. Cesar took care of some logistical work at the airline desk and we then had to rush to pay airport taxes, a darling inefficiency, and run to our gate, only to wait for our plane to arrive. Meanwhile we met some American pharmacy students travelling to reserves in Iquitos to study natural medicines. I sat next to Azzam, a guy from this group, on the flight, which ended majestically over forests with monkeys swinging from trees and mists rising at the magic hour when the sun makes everything seem surreal. We got off and jumped on a small bus and followed Rene and Keith on motorbikes to the YWAM base to end our 30 hours of travelling.

Despite our fatigue and readiness to sleep, our watches read 8:30, so we travelled by motocar to Plaza de Armas, where we were met by street vendors with candy and balloons, a bright glowing fountain, street performers, and a bright Catholic church. We bought postcards at a Christian-owned small shop, saw "human statues", and some kids with fake instruments made of wood that were jamming to their own tunes.