Cesar

Saturday in Miraflores brought two milestones:

Uno: My first jog . In every place i've ever lived or called home, the inagural jog from the place helps adjust my bearings and feel out my attitude about the area. Saturday, Miraflores happens to be just a bit less hectic than usual. I headed out from 561 Ca. Las Dalias down towards the coast and the esplanade. The bay air is chewy, and I think an altogether novel experience for my fresh air priveledged lungs. The paved path follows the cliffed perimeter of Miraflores, and down below, surfers bob in time to the even sets. The sun breaks every now and then, and the water turns the sort of shade of blue it maybe should be. Past 'Lover's Point,' its a large clay statue of a kiss and its stunning in its own clumsy terra-cotta way. I catch another jogger in my sights, and set a pace behind her for a while until I find my destination: a lighthouse on a sturdy jetty. Winding around it, wish I could somehow have brought my camera. My limbs feel awake again, and its marvelous. Sticky, but marvelous. There is a strange, sweet tinge to the air. Its time to turn back.

Dos: My first sip of coffee since very early last tuesday morning. It tastes amazing. We'd been too wary of Montezuma's Revenge to make coffee ourselves, as we've been warned against both the water and the milk, but for the Americano, its worth every sole, and the risk I run of severe gastric distress.

First glimpse of the ever popular paragliders Saturday also: very cool.

After Teresa's second treatment, which felt just a little bit more routine, we headed back to the 'Larcomar,' a touristy mall on the cliffs filled with expensive boutiques, designer alpaca wear, and of course, Starbucks. Celebrating Saturday night, dinner and our first cocktails are had at 'Mangos: Sabor Sin Limites.' Dessert is churros from the vendor in the open air market. The woman in the handbag shop smiles, she comments (i think) that churro is also how they refer to handsome men. "Churro?" I ask. "Si, churro...em...Delicious!" The laughter is refreshing. Some things don't need translation.

Sunday came, and with it the crunch to find a new place to stay. Wednesday is our deadline. The day is spent mosty in the apartment with 'El Comercio' digging through the 'classificados.' I sneak out around 4pm to procure energy boosting coffees for morale. Kat and I run out in the early evening for groceries for dinner...I'm taking very quickly to Vivanda as I'm cooking more and more.

Monday morning Cesar arrives early, and we are lucky (so lucky I can't even begin to describe) to have his help. Cesar is a freind of Kelcy's from a town to the north. He's come by a long bus ride to help us visit apartments. His english is good.

"You are a lifesaver," Teresa tells him.

"No, just a friend." Cesar replies.

I've read about the unparalled hospitality of the Peruvians, but not until now do I understand just how far it extends. We're crippled by the humbling feeling of thanks for his generosity. He takes us around the city with a cabby he trusts, always smiling. I don't think he knows just how much he has done for us. I very much hope its true that he had other business in the city and did not make the trip just for us.

He dosen't quite understand why three girls, gringas no less, would come here with no friends and no connections, and if he thinks we are crazy (as i suspect) he is probably at least a little bit right. Today was hard. Tensions and frustrations were close to the surface with less than 48 hours to find a place to stay.

In the early evening, we've found a place that will work for now. Even this small measure of success feels like a great accomplishment and is so welcome at this point. Enter Cesar again, who seems to have sensed, if not outright witnessed our anxiety, and he knows the perfect cure.

On the top floor of the "Hotel Las Americas," he's shown us to a great restaraunt with a sweeping view of at least three districts of Lima. In the elevator up, I have to force back tears, the urge is the strongest its been in this city so far: Here is Cesar, this morning a stranger and now a great friend, who has not only helped us find a place to live, but also helped us to reconnect the relationships that brought us here in the first place. A bottle of peppery Peruvian cabernet later and some Lomo Seltado (?sp) (traditional Peruvian dish) we can face the next day.

We are hermanos. Today, and everyday.