I never cease to be amazed at…well, life. That’s the sort of thinking that produces
this kind of stream-of-consciousness writing. There is no main topic, and it isn’t going
anywhere. I hope you find it
interesting.
A few nights ago, Oldest and I meandered a mere two
blocks away, on a quest for sushi. By
sushi, I don’t mean the junk they serve in the United States, stifled by health
codes. I’m talking about real raw tuna
and salmon and other things that would make the local health inspector’s face
red as he hunches over his clipboard, scribbling furiously.
I understand the need for regulations to protect the
public. Sewer pipes shouldn’t cross
connect with runoff pipes, and employees should always wash their hands before
returning to work, even if they are 99.99% sure they didn’t get pee on them,
but I think an over-regulated society misses out on a lot, and becomes blinded
and ignorant of what the world has to offer, if one is to take only a modicum
of informed, calculated risk.
Otherwise, it produces things like this label, found on a
package of peanuts, served to me on an American Airlines 767 two weeks ago:
Ingredients: Peanuts
Roasted in Peanut and/or Canola Oil, Salt.
Produced in a facility that processes peanuts and
other nuts.
Seriously?
I think I would be more concerned if the
warning stated that it was produced in a place that didn’t.
Following a hearty meal of sushi (is that an oxymoron?),
we strolled back to the house, and at the corner, saw a new group of street
performers.
Some background is necessary here. Intersections in Lima are often occupied by a variety of
people. On rare occasions, you will see
someone leading a blind relative or carrying a special needs child, who will
walk between the cars, asking for coins, but with those exceptions, begging isn’t
well tolerated. I do wonder sometimes if
someone on the next corner isn’t renting out little blind men for this purpose,
but I will move on.
Instead, Peruvians are imaginative, and not that limited
by their own disabilities, or rather, willing to work inside those limitations.
During our time here, we have met a
blind man, Alan, who sells individual pieces of candy from a larger bag. Gino, a paraplegic, sells random items from
his wheelchair near a local grocery store – and by random I mean wooden spoons,
dish towels, or umbrellas. Veronica, a “little
person” also confined to a wheelchair, sells bracelets and key chains that she
has made from beads.
You may notice that these people have names. Thank you.
The more able bodied individuals are known to work the
intersections as well, performing various acts of entertainment, during the 75
seconds that the light is red. Traffic
lights here actually have countdown timers, which may be for motorists, or for
performers. If an act isn’t finished by
the time the clock shows 15 seconds, there isn’t enough time to walk between
the rows of cars and collect tips.
We have seen pin jugglers, fire jugglers, acrobats,
clowns, and magicians. Traffic really is
a circus in Lima.
Tonight we saw something I hadn’t seen yet – a “contact
juggler.” A contact juggler manipulates
clear, heavy balls made of glass or acrylic, without actually throwing them. He maintains “contact” with the balls at all
times, but creates the illusion that they are floating or moving.
We didn’t have a camera, and I wasn’t carrying loose
change, but this act was worth coming back, since we live on the same block. A few minutes later, armed with about the
equivalent of about $1.50 in local coins, we returned with iPod in hand. The contact juggler agreed to do his routine
for us, since the intersection was currently occupied by some little kid
juggling flaming sticks and chainsaws or something boring like that.
I know what you mean about the warning labels. I once found directions on a box of tooth picks.
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