Learning Lima, Piece by Piece

There is an ambulance outside our apartment, stuck in traffic. The siren runs through its ear-bleeding cycle as honking cars make no attempts to yield. The chaos is no more than a pane away.

The museum today is not what I have pictured. In slummy Pueblo Libre, across from what once was likely a nice park, lies the Larca museum of archaeology and anthropology, home of the most complete collection on the continent.



Crowds of school kids in all-to-familiar plaid skirts and scratchy cardigans skitter around in a frantic facade of organization.

Its staggering, the interior feels like an Isabelle Allende novel. The antiquity is immense and exciting. There is however, a shocking lack of mummies. I'll be honest, I was hoping for at least one.

(left: The museum courtyard)

Back amid the relative quiet of our apartment on Javier Prado Oeste, apartment shopping is underway and hopefully we've got several good leads. I feel the seconds tick by here too, in the murky backwaters of my brain. But they are slow, languid ticks to counter the ceaseless stream of traffic and car alarms just feet outside. We've got to be out by November 18th.