East of Heart

La última chupada del mango

Enveloped in your fog and smoke, your constant cry of horns, sirens and shouts, cradled in your hills and pressed back against your ocean cliffs, wandering and finding my rhythm amongst your million interminable streets, I have peaked at your smile, your dance and charm.

Lima has left me with all senses tuned to wider frequencies. After six months, I am only more perplexed by the depth of experiences and ways of existing we have to choose from and follow. I have grown to really love this turbulent but graceful and supremely human city. Yet, for all the myriad facets I lived, I am unable to synthesize its character nor that of the country into any denominating statements. I would have to spend a lot more time here to approximate one, but it also leaves me further embracing my surroundings as the product of many forces and enjoying the changing, complex momentary outcomes. But one organ has responded decisively: a heart that now beats deeper and pulses with more reason.

Lima is sensory overload, it confronts you with dueling urban aggression and compassion. Roots, origin, blood, community, occupations, and modernity clash and fuse amongst its people and leave their mark on the landscape, its own voice and past paved over except for its unmovable ancient ruins, flanked by mountains and ocean.

My last months were mostly spent in contemplation, enjoying the friendships I’ve developed, thinking, trying to mend my passion for discovering a place like Lima with the challenge of carrying through my degree and finding my own purposeful occupation after June. The coast below Barranco often provided the backdrop. It was the right time for me to come and I couldn’t have wished for a better conversation partner than this city and the truly wonderful people I met here. Adiós Lima y hasta la pronta próxima.

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