Máncora to Guayaqiul: Good Riddance Peru…

Máncora to Guayaqiul: Good Riddance Peru…
June 8.
It is funny how English speaker perceive my name when I tell them it is ‘Castor.’  They often look at me in awe and say, “Wow, that is a very exotic name,” or “You are a Canadian, how did you get a name like that.”  I do not usually tell them that it just means Beaver in Spanish, Portuguese and French.  When I introduce myself to Spanish speakers here in Latin America, the just seem to consider it in their mind, ‘Huh, well that is funny how this English speaker has a name that sounds like the word for Beaver in my language.  I wonder if he has any idea…’  But some of them get it right away and it brings a very inquisitive smile to their faces.  I nod and hang two fingers down in front of my top front teeth.  That always makes them laugh.

It is time to get out of town so I packed my goods and booked a bus ticket for a trip from Máncora to Guayaqiul.  I was productive in the afternoon and worked on some writing from a beach bar right in the sand where I drank beer and got some work done.  I felt much better for the effort, but wow I feel that my writing from seven years ago, a story I am editing, was terrible.  I had been writing for years at that point.  Skills seem to continue to improve.

On a beach walk I found a dead sea-horse on the beach, some live pelicans, and a lot of huge fish on the docks that the local fishermen had caught.  Some of the fish were as big as me.  I find that amazing.  On the way to the docks, there is a really friendly orange cat that lives among some rocks.  I have met him twice now.  He greets every human that comes along and he approaches and interrogates all dogs that enter his territory.  The dogs are intimidated by him and cower away from him when he approaches.  I like this cat.  He is a little chubby, especially for a cat who lives in the rocks.  I guess the fishermen like this cat as well.

I got on a Máncora to Guayaqiul bus at 11:30pm to head to Ecuador.  Good riddance Peru.  As I left the restaurant I was in I asked for “El baño (the toilet)” and the waiter looked at me confusingly said, with a hopeful tone, “Marijuana?” that he then hoped to sell me.  This country….  It is amazing how anyone who started their trip in Peru loves it, but anyone who ended up there on the gringo trail seems to feel really dirty there because of the people.  There has just been too much tourism in Peru, and the people only see you as money.  And Peru is a far richer country than Bolivia.  You are not just a travelling gringo in Peru, you are money.

Machu Picchu is the economy in Peru and Peruvians seem to actually hate tourists deep down inside.  It reminds me of my days in Amsterdam when I would be out late at night and the streets would be empty so I would try to befriend a whore because I always wanted a prostitute friend who I could have coffee with and ask her about her day.  Those girls used to be so friendly to me because they assumed I had money to spend on their line of work.  When they figured out that I had no intentions of sleeping with them during the late night, and that I just wanted to be friends they used to shut their doors in my face and tell me off.  I would say, “It is 5am.  There is no one else in the streets for me to distract business from you.”  They would go from friendly ladies to complete bitches as soon as they realized I was only being friendly to be friendly.  They hate men so much, which I suppose is understandable.  Their souls are gone because of their line of work and they are whored out.  Peru reminds me of that and I sort of get that feeling from the entire population as a whole.

I am glad to be going from Máncora to Guayaqiul.  Good riddance Peru.