The battle between good and evil
As it's the day of the devil today, I should tell you what happened to me in a taxi on the way to see Ollanta Humala, the loser in Sunday's election and the man many in Peru were looking to as a kind of messiah figure.
I should have known I was in for a treat when I got in the taxi and the driver said, 'Good morning, sister'. For the next few minutes, he proceeded to root around in his glove box and various other places in the car, clearly more concerned about finding something than he was about keeping his eyes on the road. I should have known then that he firmly believed that he had God on his side and that gave him an excuse to be a rubbish driver. Then I noticed the book on his dashboard that looked scarily like a Bible and realised that the anodyne tunes from his tape recorder were Spanish religious songs. Then for my treat....he found what he was looking for and put on the Lord's Prayer in English with background music. It lasted precisely five seconds before I asked him to put on the radio and he said....'Pero, Senorita, no le gusta'....No, senor, no me gusta...I am in a stinky mood and I certainly don't want the Lord's Prayer shoved down my throat at 8.40 in the morning.
Zeta rock and pop...the best of the 80s was a much better option, even though it seemed he turned it up to punish me. I thought I had escaped the manic music-loving missionary, but apparently not. He asked me where I was from. Asked me if I believed in God and then started telling me how God would make everything better. He didn't seem to take the hint when I told him I couldn't hear him above the music and when I kept staring out the window with a frown on my face. He really was hard work......
Perhaps I was being punished. The president-elect Alan Garcia had organised a press conference for the 'enviados especiales' -- or the correspondents who had been sent especially to cover the elections, so many of those of us who are long-term enviados especiales felt we couldn't go. Instead, we had been invited to hear Ollanta Humala speak and we were hoping that he would finally put us out of our misery and end the debate as to whether or not he had conceded. An hour later, we decided to leave. Apparently, the campaign team of Humala is somewhat fragmented and couldn't decide what to do, so he didn't show up....perhaps he was scared. Either way, many of us were quite frustrated when we found out some people based in Peru had gone to the Alan press conference and we had nothing.....well, that will teach me to abide by the rules on the day of the devil.
I went to the cinema again last night with Sally and Mary and we saw 'The Girl with the Pearl Earring'. I thought it was very good and really thought the tension was good and it was very well-done in an arty British kind of way.
I am trying to decide whether or not to go to Bermuda this weekend. I have a ticket, although apparently it can be changed for a small fine. I was initially supposed to be going at the end of June, but had decided to go this weekend, to be with Jon and so I didn't feel so out of the loop. Well, I had a rather unsatisfactory chat with him yesterday, during which he told me that he hadn't managed to find anywhere for us to stay. I think there was a bit of a misunderstanding -- probably quite easy on the Peru-Bermuda phone lines and he had assumed if he got the kitchen ship-shape (excuse the pun) in the building where we may be living then we could live in the other house, which hasn't been renovated yet. Well, that would mean sharing a bathroom with a guy who has been bunking in there for several months, who I had been told was moving out...not a nice thought as the bathroom is pretty nasty. We would have out own room and a bed when Jon gets around to buying one. I asked him to make some calls about the possibility of us house-sitting for someone and he has said he will do, although he said that last week.
I feel pretty despondent about this, but wonder if I am being a spoilt brat. I don't think it's unreasonable wanting to go and settle somewhere. Is this damn nesting instinct arriving early.
Before anyone reads into this the wrong thing and assumes Jon and I are having trouble, I want to set your minds at rest. I think with this kind of uncertainty, many couples would have their days when they need to release a bit of steam. It's hard. I had hoped it was going to get easier and I do hope to be with him soon, but think it may well be easier if I wait a little while here in Peru. At least my friends are here and I have my own bathroom. Plus my gym membership doesn't run out for a week....and the cinema is cheap. Oh, there is a god. Mr taxi-driver would be very happy with me.
I should have known I was in for a treat when I got in the taxi and the driver said, 'Good morning, sister'. For the next few minutes, he proceeded to root around in his glove box and various other places in the car, clearly more concerned about finding something than he was about keeping his eyes on the road. I should have known then that he firmly believed that he had God on his side and that gave him an excuse to be a rubbish driver. Then I noticed the book on his dashboard that looked scarily like a Bible and realised that the anodyne tunes from his tape recorder were Spanish religious songs. Then for my treat....he found what he was looking for and put on the Lord's Prayer in English with background music. It lasted precisely five seconds before I asked him to put on the radio and he said....'Pero, Senorita, no le gusta'....No, senor, no me gusta...I am in a stinky mood and I certainly don't want the Lord's Prayer shoved down my throat at 8.40 in the morning.
Zeta rock and pop...the best of the 80s was a much better option, even though it seemed he turned it up to punish me. I thought I had escaped the manic music-loving missionary, but apparently not. He asked me where I was from. Asked me if I believed in God and then started telling me how God would make everything better. He didn't seem to take the hint when I told him I couldn't hear him above the music and when I kept staring out the window with a frown on my face. He really was hard work......
Perhaps I was being punished. The president-elect Alan Garcia had organised a press conference for the 'enviados especiales' -- or the correspondents who had been sent especially to cover the elections, so many of those of us who are long-term enviados especiales felt we couldn't go. Instead, we had been invited to hear Ollanta Humala speak and we were hoping that he would finally put us out of our misery and end the debate as to whether or not he had conceded. An hour later, we decided to leave. Apparently, the campaign team of Humala is somewhat fragmented and couldn't decide what to do, so he didn't show up....perhaps he was scared. Either way, many of us were quite frustrated when we found out some people based in Peru had gone to the Alan press conference and we had nothing.....well, that will teach me to abide by the rules on the day of the devil.
I went to the cinema again last night with Sally and Mary and we saw 'The Girl with the Pearl Earring'. I thought it was very good and really thought the tension was good and it was very well-done in an arty British kind of way.
I am trying to decide whether or not to go to Bermuda this weekend. I have a ticket, although apparently it can be changed for a small fine. I was initially supposed to be going at the end of June, but had decided to go this weekend, to be with Jon and so I didn't feel so out of the loop. Well, I had a rather unsatisfactory chat with him yesterday, during which he told me that he hadn't managed to find anywhere for us to stay. I think there was a bit of a misunderstanding -- probably quite easy on the Peru-Bermuda phone lines and he had assumed if he got the kitchen ship-shape (excuse the pun) in the building where we may be living then we could live in the other house, which hasn't been renovated yet. Well, that would mean sharing a bathroom with a guy who has been bunking in there for several months, who I had been told was moving out...not a nice thought as the bathroom is pretty nasty. We would have out own room and a bed when Jon gets around to buying one. I asked him to make some calls about the possibility of us house-sitting for someone and he has said he will do, although he said that last week.
I feel pretty despondent about this, but wonder if I am being a spoilt brat. I don't think it's unreasonable wanting to go and settle somewhere. Is this damn nesting instinct arriving early.
Before anyone reads into this the wrong thing and assumes Jon and I are having trouble, I want to set your minds at rest. I think with this kind of uncertainty, many couples would have their days when they need to release a bit of steam. It's hard. I had hoped it was going to get easier and I do hope to be with him soon, but think it may well be easier if I wait a little while here in Peru. At least my friends are here and I have my own bathroom. Plus my gym membership doesn't run out for a week....and the cinema is cheap. Oh, there is a god. Mr taxi-driver would be very happy with me.
posted by Peliroja at
3:35 pm
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