Frontier Living Everybody

It´s always a strange conversation when people talk about the difficulties of travelling to New Zealand to me, and, for now, we´ll exclude all those that claim their uncle lives there and subsequently try and pinch a 20 from my purse, and just the relative island-ness of New Zealand´s geography. It´s only now that my spanish is reasonable enough to be dropped into a conversation or hear a crooning cumbia beat on the radio and at least have some idea what they´re talking about, that the differences and rivalries between these neatly packed countries are really becoming apparent. Big sentiments for someone who´s still in Peru, I know, but I´m really thrilled to be crossing over. It hit me in the supermarket today, while going to buy a bag of ´digestive´ herbs, following a terrible diagnosis about the state of my intestines from a ´curer´ near Trujillo. The total absence of food labelling regulations here (there are daily percentages if you´re lucky but they´re little help without serving sizes, and ingredient breakdowns are a rarity) could have me importing cocoa products unknowingly, which is sort of funny in a way, as some tea containing ´wolf berries´ i brought back from Melbourne is probably still sitting in the fumigation tank in concord. What was I thinking. I´m sure fumigation out ways any benefits. And so, probably, will heading to Ecuador. My first stop, is Vilcabamba, where people are rumoured to live for 100 years. I´m sure I can sneak some of their secrets from them.

Or at least take a spa in less of an iron lung setting...

I´ve just taken a roam around the streets of Piura, which, at 10 o´clock on a Saturday (I DID look for live music!), are strangely alive with keke stalls, emoliente stands, plastic buckets of fruity refrescos and tables and tables of bubbling aluminum pots with lids of milkshake machine metalic blues and reds. I feel like such a sucker for chowing down before heading out, although I´m yet to set eyes on my favourite maizy treat- choclo, giant meaty corn, fished from a tank of boiling water which collects in the bottom of the plastic serving bag to dribble all over your hands and top later. Generally it comes with your choice of two bicky jars of aji, red or green, which is less firey, mixed with some sort of parsley-ish shavings. I´m sure it´s terrible manners, but i always go back for more as it´s just so difficult to navigate, being somehow more round than regular corn. Of course the bag water becomes fire water, great for paper cuts and I´m sure if the police weren´t always fully armed to the teeth anyway, subduing quasi violent unarmed criminals. Like unknowing cocoa leaf smugglers?

Bit out of shape on the old improvisation there, but I did catch some ´professional´tom foolery while in the last week of my Lima excursion. One of the judges was the Latin American Steve Buscemi. The biggest thrill of the night. Good to know that audiences around the world will always pull out ´aeroplane toilet´ and ´proctologist´ when asked for input, teams will generally ignore story or song title ask fors, the strange spinning doo dooing action one performs to signify a flashback is universal, and one can never know all the rules to pass the clap. So while I was in Lima a GRAND amount of time, I was certainly treated to a fine assortment of interesting arty bits and pieces. It was quite a strain to leave- I´m presently missing ´art week´ all over the city, and the comic book themed month at centro cultura de españa. They´re showing pre Christopher Reeve superman, his costume looks like static stuck undies to his tights in the dryer, actually, most parts of the man can be rather sincerely described as ´sagging´, AND the original batman movie, where penguin somehow removes his iris pattern to avoid identification, if that´s who that waddling gentleman at the wharf REALLY was.

Though all is not lost. I did stay in Lima long enough to attend the ´very first official´ zine fest, and it was utterly brilliant! Zine of course comes from ´magazine´, and is generally describes publications of a self published if not made-by-hand nature. They´re an excellent resource for written versions of spoken Spanish, and a minefield for getting a grip on a music scene which generally goes on in people´s living rooms. I got mix tapes of local indie and punk, met my first Peruvian vegan, and met Eliana and her most excellent pin up. It´s Baudrillard.

Thinking that I might write it up for anyone interested, I interviewed a dozen or so of the attendees, writers, organisers, hangers on. They were so accommodating of my Spanish and unknowingly culturally weighted questions- for example, in Peru you don´t need to be a fan of anything other than your own opinions to have a fanzine. It´s a nice counterweight to the amount of tribute nights hogging all the venues, though I almost had my arm twisted to see the Oasis one for a giggle, and I unwittingly wound up at a My Chemical Romance tribute, but didn´t realise until after I left. I´ll compile the photos and stories for something... just as soon as i´ve got through the material.

The last few days I´ve been camping about 20 mins out of Trujillo, a little up from Huanchaco beach. It was mostly lovely and warm, though the pacific current stopped me from taking up a free surf lesson. The local fisher people have giant winkle picker shaped reed rafts that they take out into the waves and sort of surf/paddle back on with their catch. They´re a magnificent site lined up along the beach wall.

I´ve just noticed a sign above my head which reads ´prohibida la musica satanica´. Odd, considering the utterly vial high pitched sawing of ill corroborated electrical equipment sirening out of who knows where. Nevertheless, I think it´s a clue to potential nightlife here and a hint to get moving.

Just a final travel tip before I go. Should you need to change STA Blue tickets, you can´t just go to an STA ticket counter. No no no. It´s not that easy, well, it´s not that well publicised or logical (they´re no longer ticket counters when you want that sort of assistance, they´re ´help desks´). You have to ring their American hot line on 140805920870. Don´t call on a Saturday or Monday, or you´ll be waiting half an hour (thank goodness I´ve got my head around skype, even if it does sound like i´m being sucked into the ocean). BEFORE you call to change anything, you´ve got to email them a copy of your ticket, or they can´t really help. That email address is blueticket@statravel.com. You can also fax it to 4805920877. Make sure you make the call within two days of sending your ticket details, or they´ll just deny any knowledge of it.

And to FINISH finish, here´s a turtle from the garden in Huanchaco. I missed feeding time sadly.