Yahoooo Peru!

The alarm goes off at 5:30am. The sun isn’t out yet. It is cold.

After a shivering shower and last minute packing, we shoulder our packs for the Terminal Terrestre. At the terminal we buy our breakfast, heart-shaped loafs of sweet bread. I dump my chain-secured bag under the bus and we take our seats.

The sun is rising, but my eyes can’t stay open to watch the view emerge. We stop for desayuno, but neither Nate or myself can stomach greasy meat at that hour. I grab a jugo de tomate de árbol. We’re both pretty sniffly with sore throats. I think I’ve gotten sympathy sick and mirror Nate’s symptoms.

We doze as the hills come out. Every time I wake up I catch a glimpse of beautiful scenery. We stop again for almuerzo. This time Nate and I split one. But the chicken is dry and not warm, so we don’t eat all of it. The bathrooms are the grossest ones I’ve seen since the Syria-Lebanon border.

Back on the bus and off to the border. We hop out with passports in hand. Nate doesn’t have his immigration card. He says they didn’t give him one when he entered the country. This could be a problem. I’ve argued myself across borders, but never someone else. I mentally plan what I’m going to say.

We get to the window and I greet the official. I get my Ecuadorian exit stamp and as he turns to Nate, I explain the situation. The official shakes his head. Nate needs to have the card in order to get the exit stamp. I say that they didn’t give him one. The official doesn’t budge. I pull out my stubbornness. I’m not going anywhere until he lets Nate over. The official pulls out a deal: we pay $10 and we get a new card. I reject the offer. $10?! No way. This kid doesn’t lose things, I say. They really didn’t give him one. The guard says that the immigration cards serve as a system of keeping track of who’s in the country and for how long. It’s the law. I counter with another argument. This goes on and on until the exasperated official searches the desk and produces a blank form. Nate fills it out and the official unhappily gives us the stamp. Nate’s first international land border crossing AND it’s slightly illegal!

We high-five and skip across the bridge to the Peruvian side. I am so excited to get out of Ecuador; this day couldn’t have come soon enough! We get our Peruvian stamps and the border-control woman and I roll our eyes at an annoying American traveler ahead in line. We cross into Peru… and don’t look back!

I like Peru. The people are nice, if you play by the rules. The guards exchange a buenos días and smile! A smile! I haven’t seen one of those since Colombia!

We hop back on the bus. My eyes are glued out of the window. It’s funny how each country has a different vibe. Despite the proximity, each country is distinct with its own custom, culture, and way of life. The houses are different in Peru. The graffiti is different: no more voting on the constitutional reform. The people are different. The countryside is different.


Peru seems more wild. But also more conservative. We arrive in Piura at 4pm after nine hours on the road. There isn’t a single bus terminal, but rather bus company offices scattered around. The sun is beating down overhead. We put our packs on our backs and hit the road. We walk the four blocks to the Linea office. Peru reminds me of a less populated Bangladesh. Motorized rickshaws everywhere. Horns blaring. Chaotic streets. Cars that don’t follow traffic rules and pedestrians dodging for their lives. We pass the market and find a window in the traffic to cross the street. We buy our tickets for Chiclayo and wait for the bus. The energy is raw and the streets are alive.

In some ways Peru is modern and organized. The big bus companies have an elaborate system for checked bags. They give you the metal detector test before you get on the bus. Then they video tape you once you’re in your seat. Plus they accept credit cards. And there are restaurants that are open past 7pm! In other ways Peru is chaotic and frantic. The rules of the road are that there aren’t any. The combis are vans that stuff passengers in like sardines. The rickshaws own the road.

But people are amazing. What a relief after Ecuador! For every person who tries to cheat you out of 1 sole (33 US cents), there are 5 more who go out of their way to look after you! Our hotel receptionist not only leant us 2.5 soles for the cab, but also made us hot water in a thermos for tea in the morning. Plus he’s all smiles and knocked 5 soles off of our hotel price. Or the two girls on the combi back from Túcume. They saw that the ayudante only gave us 5 soles back in change and harassed him until he gave us 1 more sole. They made sure we got off at the right place, told me to be careful of my bag, negotiated a taxi for us, and took care of us! They were so nice. I could fill a page with all the people who have looked out for us in the short time we’ve been in this country. It is unbelievable.

And everyone smiles. Not only smiles, but greets us and wishes us good days. They thank us and say goodbye to us. I can’t believe it. It is so refreshing to have renewed faith in human kindness after it was shattered in Ecuador.

Our hotel is pretty awesome. There are plants everywhere and the hotel staff is super nice.

I think the only complaint I have about Peru is that all the food is fried to a crisp. I feel the oil coming out of my pores. But I can’t wait to try the ceviche!

Yes. That's a picture of Nate. Yes, he is eating banana chips. BANANA chips.