Fragments

This is the best I could do in Pisco. I really don´t get how photographers do it all the time (I think the fact that it´s breaking likely helps). I felt like I was intruding, taking advantage of their misery. So I tried to be inconspicuous -- which, added to my ineptitude with a camera, amounts to so-so pics. Remember -- you can enlarge pics by clicking on them.

A Peruan custom when walking: One person puts his/her right hand on the other person´s left shoulder, so they walk side by side. It's mostly men who do this, about 3-4 pairs of men to every pair of women who do it, and mostly it's the younger person with the hand on the shoulder.

Another different custom in the bars. At least in Ica, they give you an extra cup -- to pour your head (foam) into. There were three guys at one table Monday, and four at another. At each table, one of them would pour some beer into their one glass, 2-3 fingers´ worth, and drink it. He´d pour the foam into the cup, and pass the glass. The next guy would do the same. And on and on. I know a little something about imbibing, and never saw that before.

Cusqueno Negro is my favorite. Cristal is made in Peru and seems to be the national beer, but ít´s typical lager wuss beer. The Negro resembles the original bottled Guinness, only a bit sweet. It rocks. Four soles a liter -- about $1.33. I may stay here longer than expected.


Here´s a family who lives nearby, out at a bus stop on the very sparsely populated road from Ica to Nazca, waiting for papi or someone. Just another day for these folks, nothing special one way of the other.

The traffic? Chicago is like a bunch of old ladies in comparison. New Yorkers would be embarrassed. These folks are god damn crazy. And no one seems all that bothered by it. Most intersections don´t have any signs -- at all. The main drags have stop lights. The sidestreets? Pretty much every man for himself.

Car horns? All the goddamn time. ALL the time. It´s amazing. The beep if they're turning left. If they're turning right -- going straight, if it's Monday, Tuesday, day, night, doesn't matter.

And chickens. God damn chickens. Seems like someone on every block in every town has them -- and live roosters that crow every day for about two hours. Ít´s inescapable. And I no longer feel any regret, if I ever had one about eating chicken.


The bridge in Ica spans an unofficial garbage dump. It´s not uncommon, the same practice exists in Nazca, just down the road.

I walked over the bridge in Ica into the bad side of town. The bridge spans a dry canal -- filled with garbage. It´s disgusting. I kept going, just looking, and it was obviously a working class area. On the way back, on the bridge, a guy who looked bigger and tougher than any of the people I had seen on the bad side called to me. Sir, sir, he called. In very accented but understandble English, he said, it is danger there. It is not safe. I felt and must have looked a little confused and surprised. This badass, about 30, shrugged, and said, just to help sir. I said gracias, muchas gracias. He waved and took off.

Kids everywhere smile at me. Partially it´s my status as the lone white guy in the vicinity -- mostly though, I think it`s my sunburn. It´s been very clear and bright, and I only got some SPF 30 Tuesday. It´s hard to come by down here, as it´s not in high demand. And I´ve been wearing my shades all the time, so when kids see the bright red face -- with the white skin where the shades have been, they all laugh.

Overall, it´s a fantastic place. I´ve had shrimp and rice, pollo and rice. Helado -- ice cream. Cervaza. I haven´t seen any damn touristy thing yet. There are too many people to see and try to talk to ... and best of all, there are like thousands of Peruan woman. I have almost hurt myself several times either walking into traffic or light poles because I´m looking at a woman. I´m not ogling ... I´m just amazed. Studious. They´re muy hermosa.