In search of inner peace and punk in Peru

Posted: October 11, 2011 in Music, Rants, Uncategorized
Tags: , , ,

So, heres a little context for this story: I’m in Peru. There ya go.

AND…

About five days ago the wonder and bliss of beautiful Peru wore off. No longer was Miraflores the neighborhood of my dreams and the land of opportunity. Suddenly this oasis of culture, the arts, and hospitality became a horrendous dirty city full of gringo-hating, mean spirited rapists. This change in attitude took place after I weighed the lessons of the week. Most of them were learned the only way a true lesson can be: The hard way. These included:

  • Not everyone has good intentions and my well-being in mind
  • It took me 6 months to figure out how to get here,  there is no way anyone can come visit me on a whim
  • I can’t maintain a relationship with 2 Facebook chat sessions a week

All lessons learned come with some harsh realizations, the toughest of the two:

  • -Holy balls, NO ONE HERE UNDERSTANDS MY ACCENT. I literally can´t voice my needs to anyone.

and, of course:

  • -I am completely and utterly alone.

So after a few nights of nightmares after bawling myself to sleep something inside of me (and my mother)  said, HEY.  You’re a brave girl. Time to put those big, brave girl panties on and pull your fucking-self together. Seriously.

So today, I did just that. I enrolled in school, started spanish classes, made some friends, and even made some evening plans. I went grocery shopping, I went to work, I exercised.

I had goals when I came here, I did. I wanted to learn Spanish. I wanted to learn about culture. I wanted to backpack. I wanted to be on my own for the first time in my adult life and not another lives-at-home college graduate. I wanted adventure. And now that I think about it, with my new, positive outlook and a refreshed view of this country I have chosen to call my home, I see that I am on the way to achieving EVERY SINGLE ONE of these objectives.

So whats next? MUSIC.

The third night I was in Lima I met a boy in the park. He was a mystic from the jungle who one day just made the 3 day walk out of the Amazon, hopped on a bus and came to Miraflores to enroll in college with hopes of becoming an astronaut. Before reading my energy with his weird mind tricks and making me imagine various scenes from what sounded to me like strange surrealist paintings he first declared that I was a punk. Did I have a boyfriend with a mohawk? How many drugs do I take? Do I wear my ballet flats in the mosh pits? After explaining to him that no, I don´t binge drink every night and I have other commitments than “being a punk” that require me to have more than one pair of shoes he made me dance and decided that, yes. Punks here dance the same way.

 And that was the last I heard about the punk scene in Lima, Peru.

I did some research and found out that like the United States, Peru has a rich history of punk dating back to the 1960s. THE 60s! And if mystic straight-off-the-bus jungle boy can find it, I can too, right? Punk can’t truly be dead ALL over the world, can it?

So tonight its off to the jam-sesh at the local jazz house with my new euro-trash amigos to talk to musicians about, well,  where to find this elusive punk. And hopefully very soon I will be reporting back and bringing the world of South American hardcore to you.

Because if a strange kid with a loin cloth, some blow darts and literally no spanish speaking ability can make it in Lima, a tiny gringa with safari shorts, geeky sandals and some spanish speaking ability can make it here, too.

Karli

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