Peru Times Two
Peru Times Two Prior to arriving in Lima, I had read and listened to many assumptions and preconceived notions about the culture of Peru. I was warned about poverty, illiteracy, unlawfulness, and the economic desperation of the underclass. I was warned to buy locks for the zippers on my suitcase; to always be vigilant of criminals lurking around each corner; to mistrust those who offer services unsolicited; and to always concern myself with the purity of food and water. It sounded like the same bullshit that is directed towards poor, brown skinned people everywhere. Peru is no more dangerous, unhealthy, or dishonest than any other place that I have been. When I cleared customs, I was approached by man in a pressed, white shirt, wearing a necktie and an ID on a lanyard around his neck. He offered me taxi service to my hotel in Miraflores. In spite of myself, the first inclination was to be mistrustful. Is this man going to take my belongings, beat me to pulp and leave me in an abandon