My Own Brush with a Violent Protest in Lima
After writing yesterday’s tongue-in-cheek post about the U.S. Embassy warning about foreigners getting swept up in political demonstrations in Peru, I realized that I had nearly been caught in a violent protest myself. (To my credit, I had no illusion that it was a folkloric event.)
It was in May 2000, when Fujimori was storming his way to a third presidential term, and protesters all throughout Lima, as well as the rest of the country, were clashing with police.
El Híjo, El Fotógrafo and I were at a leather store in downtown Lima, three blocks from the presidential palace, when people started yelling in the street. One minute it was a quiet, gray Lima morning, and the next minute groups of men were hurling rocks at policemen in the intersection.
EF and I grabbed our two-year-old son and somehow managed to escape in a cab before the violence escalated. I held El Híjo’s head so he wouldn’t look backward through the window to see what was happening.
We ended up at a restaurant in Chinatown and watched the riot on TV as we ate our noodles.
We could have so easily been trapped in the middle of it.
Barbara
I am an American writer who lived in Lima for seven years (2007-2014), where I covered Andean traditions, melting glaciers and daily life in the capital for Miami Herald, MSNBC and Huffington Post. I now live and work in northern Florida where I champion climate change advocacy and compassionate, affordable eldercare.
