Lima, The City on the Cliff | Peru Part I
Lima is a hive buzzing with life. One of Latin America’s megacities, the metroplex is massive with skyscrapers and high-rises growing like reeds on riverbanks and coastlines. Some 10 million residents hustle and bustle through the city center and whizz the highways on private co-op busses that seem only obvious to locals. The old city is colorful and its aged buildings are well preserved. Flemish terraces jut overhead and Catholic Churches are never far from any corner. Like in Ecuador, yellow vests are prominent, directing traffic in direct dissent to the light signals overhead.
I spent an afternoon and evening strolling the cliff tops of Miraflores. The misty air was peppered with salt and on more than one occasion I was drawn to the edge by the mesmerizing wave action in the distance; a long way down, the screaming honks of rush hour traffic were drowned by the echoes of drumming shore break. Parks of every variety — jungle gyms, soccer fields, skate, and even a mountain bike course — were at the disposal for the residents to play in. At Larcomar, Lima’s premier shopping mall, skaters had taken to the streets, slaloming around pedestrians before launching into their trick of choice. One dude appreciated my Koston-esque “Do a kickflip!” yell, which prompted several snaps of him clearing a gap. As a kid, all I wanted to be was a skate/surf photographer; in many respects, Lima was that dream come true. The people were welcoming and excited to practice their English; when they saw me attempting Spanish in return, we became fast friends.
On that evening stroll, I met Alberto of SurfPeru. He tried to get me out in the waves right then and there, but with camera in hand and a dinner reservation to make, it wasn’t going to happen. So I proposed an alternative: the next morning at 7 am. He smiled in agreement and 12 hours later, we were in the water. The serene, rolling tides that I had enjoyed from the beach was replaced with the unforgiving force that only Mother Nature can whip up. Every drop of the Pacific Ocean’s southernly surf that snuck into my wetsuit cooly reminded me that I was out there on my own volition and that I should be wearing a smile. And smile I should, because it was magnificent. If one wave didn’t work out, I could be sure another was coming in behind it, and another after that one. The sets don’t stop and provide plenty of opportunity for shredders of all levels to get their fix. As I waited for my spot in the lineup to be called, the trendy, residents of Miraflores were waking up high above the cliffs. A few successive thrashings taught me not to get caught looking at the view. But when a pod of dolphins turned up right next to me, I was caught looking at Flipper and end up flipped and fumbled in a fury for my lack of focus. I was smiling though, and by the end of a short morning, I was surfing too.
Another thing that makes me smile is food. From historical conquest and recent culture migration, Peruvian cuisine mixes culinary mastery from around the world with fresh fish and local agriculture to achieve delectable results. While ceviche is the national dish, sushi spots are common (a few even compete with some of Nippon’s finest establishments), and arroz chaufa — a local twist on fried rice — are a reflection of the the Chinese contingent in the country. Fine dining wise, Lima is home to two of San Pellegrino's Top 10 restaurants worldwide and for good reason. At Central, the chefs aren’t just gastronomic geniuses but also environmental activists. The restaurant is working with farmers to preserve certain corn species in hopes of resurrecting varietals resistant to weather conditions; a sister location in Cuzco is home to microclimate facility in the terraced-hills where they are harvesting vegetables that haven’t been grown in centuries. They are documenting all 3,000 local varietals of potatoes. As someone who loves to eat, seeing see such a passion for food was beautiful. Flavor is one of many ways people identify with their culture, and in Peru they take it very seriously.
Barranco is Lima’s Brooklyn: hip and cool and up and coming, the residential houses do a good job of hiding great coffee, local design shops, and street art. Also tucked away is MATE (pronounced Mah-Tay, like the Yerba herb), Peruvian photographer Mario Testino’s museum, and a true must-see for anyone who has fallen in love with photos. Known for his gorgeous fashion shoots and a long list of celebrity (not to mention royal) clientele, Testino favored the use of small cheap cameras over larger format ones. He wanted to be in the action alongside his subjects and popularized party pics: candid, raw images of people having unscripted fun. His work inspired a college art project of mine, Disposable Documentation. During my senior year of college, hundreds of throwaway Kodaks were taken everywhere I went, snapping the thousands of fleeting moments with the people that defined my student experience. Creativity is nothing without influence, and in a life where everything seems to be a remix, you have to find your own personal style in the music of those who came before you; in that regard, Mario Testino introduced me to a few songs and gave me the confidence to dance. And every time I step out onto the floor, I remember how happy taking a picture makes me.
****
Relax.
You can’t control the ocean, only your board which should be one with you.
Be curious about the next wave but not so excited you rush into it.
Deep breath and stand tall.
Now paddle.
FASTER!
