The Road to Ica

With a 10am departure time for Ica, a city 4 hours to the south of Lima, three of us ran to un café to grab some breakfast.  After asking a few vendors we found a small empty café tucked off of a side street. As the others ordered café and platanos maduras I savored my té verde before we dashed back to the hostel.  Despite hurrying we arrived at 10:15, but as it turns out we didn't leave until 11 anyway - an indication of Perúvian time.

Throughout the drive the differences between Perú and the US became more and more apparent.  Outside the city slums and desert dunes became plentiful.  As we drove down the coast you could look out one window and see the slum houses creeping up a dune while the other window showed lush water parks and beautiful seaside villas.

 

Along the ride all I could think about was how closely these observations mirrored what I had learned in my Politics of Developing Nations class a semester before.  The urban housing booms, informal sector workers (selling food, goods, etc.) and the presidential campaign all came to mind.  Everywhere you looked, whether in Lima, Ica or in the wastelands in between, political ads were painted on every available surface.  When we first arrived Kris told me about Keiko, the daughter of former President Fujimori.  In her competitive campaign Keiko has promised to drop her father's charges, freeing him from the political crimes he is currently imprisoned for.  Despite this presumably controversial campaign promise Keiko has made the run-off as the Fuerza (Force) 2011 Party's candidate.

When we finally inched around the tight Ica corners (backing up traffic as we went) and made it to our hotel we settled into the charming whitewashed rooms before heading out the grab dinner.

 

At a small restaurant in the north of Ica a group of us gathered to try a variety of dishes including Leche de Tigre, a shockingly lime-y blended cerviche that effectively cleared out all of my sinuses.  After chowing down on our food, Diana, Rachel and I wandered back to the hotel, stopping on the way in the Ica Market and a pharmacy so I could buy hand sanitizer.  Meeting up back at the hotel all of us went to a karaoke bar called The Sopranos.  After singing/listening to My Heart Will Go On, Don't Stop Believing and more we returned to the hotel and after a blissful shower I fell into a deep sleep that is quickly becoming my Peruvian tradition.

Lessons Learned:

Cabs are name-your-own-price, as in Customer: "3 soles, si?" Driver: "Si" (S/. 3 ~ $1)

Ads can go anywhere; abandoned walls, street posts, houses, etc.

Mototaxis are the cutest. thing. ever.  (and they are EVERYWHERE!)