A New Home for the Holidays

After returning from Buenos Aires and the sun-drenched pampas, I needed to slow down my personal pace, reflect on five months in Peru, and enjoy the simple pleasure of living in a hand-built home built by my own hand. By then it was mid-December, and Christmas was about to come to Lima.

Christmastime in Lima: what a joy! The radio stations played no carols, I didn't have to look at cartons of eggnog, and the ambulantes on the street switched from cigarettes to wrapping paper. Even the weather cooperated, breaking the last vestiges of spring in a scorching summer. In the meantime, a new plan came together: a year-end trip to Machu Picchu, with the Plaza de Armas in Cuzco my Times Square. Two weeks on vacation, two weeks back preparing for another. December proved to be a disjointed month, split by trips to and from the airport.

Suddenly, the organized little world we have in Lima collapsed. Alex White went home to Atlanta by way of Los Angeles to see his family and have a beer; thousands of gallons of jet fuel to get that first, hoppy drop. In his place, Argenta Price (MC 06) flew to Peru to renew her Argentinian visa. Yes, yes, Argenta is in Argentina. We talked about Reno, Nevada.

Christmas Eve, all of us tucked in our shirts and set off to the other side of Miraflores to Diego's grandmother's house for dinner. (Apparently, grandparents' decor has an international standard.) The Rotaldes are a hilarious bunch, his father making jokes in English, his mother passing me rice, his younger sister acting like a teenager should, and everywhere, more food. First came the turkey, great gobbling beast. I gobbled him, then eyed the yams. At about ten, after I saw evidence of the Rotalde's fine naval tradition, we set off across the town to Christmas dinner number two.

More turkey and rice, and the Garrido Lecca's did their best to be inviting. And then, midnight! Fireworks erupted across the city, the small square of linen came off the baby Jesus, and the entire family tore through various packaging. Diego's grandmother even gave Jeff and me woolly hats, probably just to keep us busy. All the better though; I needed a hat.

The next day, because a tall Nevadan isn't nearly enough to replace Alexander T. White, my old friend Sarah Boughey arrived, bringing good tidings, my copy of A Confederacy of Dunces, and a Nutrageous. Oh, the simple joys.

After a few days of assorted Lima nonsense, with the year winding down, Jeff, Sarah, and I woke up early and flew to Cuzco, city of the Inkas.