An American in Lima » What’s up with the Weather Down There?

Cialis For Sale

Barbara — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 22:24:51 +0000

Cialis For Sale, At last count (mid August), 514 Peruvians had died of pneumonia brought on by extreme cold this year, most of them children under five. Most reasonable people would call that an emergency.

Not Peru's Red Cross, however.

In a bulletin issued August 4, Cialis over the counter, 2009, the Peruvian Red Cross (PRC) issued a general statement about the cold deaths in Puno, Online buying Cialis, noting the low temperatures, the rise in pneumonia cases and the deaths of "113" children (a number much lower than that cited by other news sources in early August). After low-balling the number of deaths, the bulletin explained that the PRC "has been assisting the affected people with medicines, where can i find Cialis online, blankets and food items. Additionally, Where can i order Cialis without prescription, the PRC has launched a nationwide campaign to collect donations for the emergency response."

Strange. During June and July I didn't hear or read a word about this "nationwide" PRC campaign, Cialis For Sale. There was plenty of news about efforts by Civil Defense (which gave out 60 tons of clothing and blankets by August) and Caritas (which distributed 1,200 tons of food, clothing and medicine by early August), buy generic Cialis, but the Peruvian Red Cross. Must have been a very low-key affair. Order Cialis from mexican pharmacy, Hmmmm.

Stranger yet, the bulletin goes on to state, in bold-face type:

The Peruvian Red Cross has determined that external assistance is not required, Cialis for sale, and is therefore not seeking funding or other assistance from donors at this moment. Cialis For Sale, Since this is a recurrent emergency and the National Society was prepared and included in its preventive measures the successful implementation of an awareness campaign, no DREF funds will be requested.

Please reread that paragraph. It says that the PRC does not want the International Federation of Red Cross & Red Crescent Societies (IRCRC) to send emergency relief aid to Peru to save people from dying from the cold. "DREF" stands for "Disaster Relief Emergency Funds."

Let me explain how the IRCRC works. Buy Cialis from mexico, The IRCRC is an international organization that has sister organizations or "societies" in countries throughout the world. When a natural disaster or humanitarian emergency hits a country, that nation can call on the IRCRC to provide food, clothing, purchase Cialis online, medicine, medical equipment, Order Cialis, emergency housing and field hospitals, plus qualified disaster workers (doctors, nurses, social workers, where can i buy Cialis online, volunteers), to the affected zone. Cialis samples, According to the IRCRC's website, DREF funds are typically released within 24 hours (yes, that quickly).

There's only one catch and it isn't a catch really: The only way the IRCRC can give emergency aid to a country is if that country requests it, Cialis For Sale. No matter how huge or catastrophic an emergency, purchase Cialis online no prescription, the IRCRC cannot step in unless the country's own Red Cross or Red Crescent society asks the IRCRC to do so. Even if people are dying, like they are in Puno and Juliaca. Buy Cialis without a prescription, This is what has happened this year with the cold deaths in the Andes. The Peruvian Red Cross has issued a bulletin saying, Don't send medical workers, don't set up field hospitals, buy Cialis online cod. People die every year from the cold in the puna, so it's not emergency. Cialis For Sale, Let us, the PRC, handle it our own way. Cialis from canadian pharmacy, We have our own little disaster-preparedness program, which kicks in months after the cold spell starts, and we think that's good enough for the people who live way up there.

In other words, Cialis price, let the people of the Andes die.

I would love to report that the Peru Red Cross has done a fantastic job of bringing medical aid to the people of the puna, Rx free Cialis, all on its own, but I can't. The PRC did nothing in May, June and July, where can i buy cheapest Cialis online, when an early cold wave began weakening tens of thousands of people in the highlands and triggered hundreds of deaths.

Strangely, after issuing its August 4 "Don't Help Us" bulletin, the Peru Red Cross got busy banging its own drum, Cialis For Sale. A news item appeared in the August 10 issue of Peruvian Times trumpeting the PRC's relief efforts, Buy Cialis from mexico, claiming that "as part of its “Together against the Cold” Campaign, the Peruvian Red Cross [had] shipped more than 50 tons of warm clothing, blankets and medicine to 11,290 families throughout Peru’s southern Altiplano, Cialis over the counter, including Cuzco, Puno, Buy generic Cialis, Apurimac and Huancavelica."

However, a quick check with the official web site of the American Red Cross reveals that (U.S.) American Red Cross workers were instrumental in getting the aid to the affected regions. The news item does not specify whose funding, that of the PRC or ARC or both, underwrote the relief effort, rx free Cialis, which was less than that given by Civil Defense and Caritas.

Note that no teams of doctors or nurses were brought to the highlands. Where can i buy Cialis online, No field hospitals were set up. By this point, early August, more than 77, buy Cialis no prescription,000 people in Puno alone had been treated for pneumonia in grossly understaffed hospitals. Cialis For Sale, The time had passed for blankets and sweaters. People needed nebulizers and the constant medical care that pneumonia and pneumonia-like diseases require. Where can i buy cheapest Cialis online, So, why didn't the PRC jump on the problem months ago. Ongoing politics, it seems, buy Cialis from canada.

A spokesperson for the PRC blamed the Peruvian government for the deaths, which the PRC refuses to classify as an "emergency" because they happen each year and are therefore preventable:

“Government authorities deal with low temperatures as a risk or a possibility, Buy no prescription Cialis online, and not as part of a sustained policy of the State to adopt permanent prevention throughout the year to avoid more deaths,” Susana Silva, [PRC] Deputy Health Ombudswoman, said in an official statement.

Gee, Cialis samples. I'm glad the PRC has its priorities straight, Cialis For Sale. It's job is finding the right entity to blame, not saving lives. Cialis price, It's a deadly game that benefits no one in Peru, least of all the hundreds of campesinos dying in the highlands. All over the world, countries suffering from drought, earthquakes, deadly epidemics, floods -- these countries receive billions of dollars' worth of prompt emergency aid and disaster-preparedness aid because their Red Cross or Red Crescent society knew that its job is to supplement its own funds by asking for IRCRC help ASAP.

What the hell is wrong with the Peru Red Cross. Cialis For Sale, And why do Peruvians permit the small-minded people who run this Lima-based "aid society" to continue to do an abysmal job and to deny Peruvians the international aid that the vulnerable nation deserves.

It's criminal.

--Barbara R. Drake

p.s. Check out the Cruz Roja Peru's lame web site. Half of the "buttons" on the front page are dead; they don't link to a live page. The society boasts of 130 years of aid in Peru (huh?). Nowhere will you find a section on transparency, as you should on a reputable nonprofit org's page. No record of incoming donations or dispensing of aid (in contrast, Caritas and Civil Defense provided daily and weekly accounting of relief efforts to communities in the highland for June, July and August).

How to (Maybe) Cure a Lima Chest Cold

Barbara — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 20:03:18 +0000

Sr. Mostazo

El Fotografo can't kick this chest cold he's been suffering with for three weeks. Not even the schlep to Santa Eulalia last weekend could knock it out of his system. So I decided to try a home remedy on him that I read about in Suite 101. Now EF's lying in bed swathed in poultices and blankets, just four feet away from me, and the room reeks of Indian food. Let me explain. Earlier this morning I read about this great mustard plaster (also known as a "poultice") you can make to get rid of lingering chest congestion. That home remedy sounded right for what's ailing EF: For three weeks he's been taking Robitussin and Paltomiel (a Peruvian homeopathic cough syrup), drinking hot tea with honey and popping vitamin Cs to no effect. Something stronger (stranger?) was in order. The mustard plaster recipe caught my eye because I remember as a kid seeing a movie in which some orphaned kids who live in the country subject their sick landlord (played by Harry Dean Stanton) to an intense cure involving a poultice of hot cooked onions. The film is based on the classic children's novel Where the Lilies Bloom, by Bill and Vera Cleaver, and that onion scene has always stayed with me. In that scene Stanton's character, whose name is Kaiser Pease, is on his deathbed wearing these tragic-looking long-johns, and the orphans give him a bath in the onions, long-johns and all.

Kaiser Pease getting his onion poultice in Where the Lilies Bloom (1974 film)

The treatment works, Kaiser lives, and I think he marries the oldest girl (the one with the brown hair in the film still). EF isn't as sick as Kaiser Pease, but I figured a stinky poultice might have a transformative effect on him. Now comes the part of the story where it gets that Lima twist. The recipe for a mustard plaster calls for mustard powder. You mix it with flour and hot water, and the hot water activates the mustard's chemical compounds, creating a thick paste that heats up on its own. You can't use prepared mustard out of a squeeze bottle. (I searched that on Google too.) It has to be dried mustard powder or mustard seeds that you grind yourself. Supermarkets in the United States carry mustard powder, but this being Peru, I wasn't sure Wong would have it. As I found out this morning, they don't. "Ah," one employee told me, "Cordon Bleu makes polvo de mostaza." He smiled. "Sorry, we don't carry that brand." After searching ten more minutes among the spices, I found a jar of Badia curry powder, which contains powdered mustard. That was the closest I'd come, I decided. "Why not aji?" the Wong employee asked. I bought a packet of that for good measure. So now EF's been lying here for half an hour with a towelful of curry/aji paste tucked under his t-shirt. The curry mixture didn't get extremely hot like the mustard paste is supposed to, but it did warm his chest. Prior to applying the poultice, I smeared him with olive oil so the spices wouldn't irritate his skin. The instructions said to do that. EF is hacking up mucus. "It's working," he says. "I wasn't coughing up anything before." We just peeled off the poultice. I wiped off the oil on his chest with a napkin. It came away bright yellow, the color of mustard and tumeric and aji. Yikes. He's been curried. Update on EF's grippe (Sat.): The curry plaster helped a bit, but not enough. The next day I hauled EF to the reliable cevicheria Punto Azul to get him some chupe pescado (fish soup) with aji and lime juice added. That helped open things up. Later that night, he steamed his head over a bowl of hot water and eucalyptus oil, which made him feel a lot better. He's been doing that regularly and was well enough today to have a meeting in San Isidro.

Desperately Seeking Sunlight

Barbara — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 03:51:51 +0000

Valley of Santa Eulalia, Peru, which has sun, big rocks and amazing avocado ice cream

There is no sun in Lima during the South American winter. No shifting light. No shadows. No way to tell 8 a.m. from 5 p.m. Just a flat grey sky that stays put, like lint in the dryer basket. I wrote about this yesterday in "Panzo de Burro" and now I'm at it again. This week I'm writing about the weather in Lima because it defines the city. And like many elemental things, it goes unnoticed but influences nearly everything. The sunless Lima winter is strange, bordering on freakish. Surviving a Lima winter is like living on another planet -- a planet where there is no sun, only a weak light reflected from, say, another moon. But since there is sunlight in Lima from December through March, Limenos know that there's a sun up there, and they cling to that knowledge. The sun will come back, the Limenos think. It will, it will. Sunlight is always in the back of a Limeno's mind. Thus on the rare winter's day when the sun does poke through for a few hours, Limenos act in a way that strikes outsiders as exaggerated. Que rico! El sol! they'll exclaim, their voices high-pitched and giddy. The que ricos! go on for a while; the Limenos are smiling; they're laughing; they're hysterical. These are people who haven't seen a crack of sunlight in six weeks. A few hours later, the sun disappears into the garua fog, the shadows fade into the sidewalk, Limenos retreat into their normally sombre demeanors. I know this because I have watched El Fotografo's relatives undergo this transformation. The first time was in 2000, when we were visiting from Florida for a few weeks. I didn't understand at the time what was going on. I thought that perhaps some of the relatives were bipolar. Now that I have lived through one Lima winter and am enduring a second, I have more insight. Their (my) reaction isn't a sign of mental imbalance; it's a natural reaction to being given a sudden reprive from months of sunlight deprivation. The response probably has a clinical name. It's about sunlight and the pituarity gland and maybe the release of yet-unnamed hormones. We are desperately seeking sunlight. The place where EF, EH and I visited this weekend is called Santa Eulalia, an impossible word for a gringa to pronounce: ay-oo-LAH-lee-ah. It sounds like someone gargling. Why does one go to Santa Eulalia-ia-ia? To feel sunlight on one's face. (Actually, it's also a magnet for bird-lovers, something I didn't know on Friday when I posted "Extreme Bird Love, That" prior to leaving Lima for the weekend. Santa Eulalia also is home to a center for training Peace Corps volunteers.) The town of Santa Eulalia is about an hour and a half east of Lima. Getting there involves nagivating horrific traffic and barren stretches of highway, and dust, dust, dust everywhere. Once you get to Eulalia, there's more dust; however, there are bougainvilla poking over the fences and so it is a picturesque dust. Up bumpy roads and past concrete brick compounds, tall eucalyptus trees bathed in dust, dusty dogs barking dry coughs, roadside stands with local women selling homemade avocado ice cream (!), dust on the seats where you sit to eat the ice cream. At the end of a 20-minute climb up a dirt/dust/rock road, there is the very nice house that you rent with a bunch of people, and everyone is saying Que linda! Because it is. It's in the sunlight. It's shining on everything. You can see your shadow and you feel human again.

“Panza de Burro”: The Donkey-grey Sky of Lima

Barbara — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 20:52:57 +0000

This past weekend El Fotógrafo, El Híjo and I fled Lima for a weekend in the country. I use "fled" literally: we were suffering physically and emotionally from the effects of Lima's damp, grey winter, which lasts from April through November. (The above photo by blogger "El Tonto de la Colina" illustrates how oppressively foggy the Lima winter can be.) People who've lived here know how awful the season is:

The sun disappears almost completely. The sky is the same dead grey color, from 8 in the morning to 6 at night.
A strange weather condition called garua invades the city. Garua is a damp, cold mist that hangs in the air like a cobweb and turns the sidewalks into slippery deathtraps.
It never truly rains, however, so the dirt and soot don't wash away. Buildings, plants, cars, street signs – everything is covered in layers of dust (polvo) made moist by the garua.
Humidity levels climb during winter, intensifying the cold. As the months wear on, the chill creeps deep into the marrow of your bones, until you feel like an old carrot left in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator.

Sounds lovely, doesn't it? I am not the only person who hates Lima's winter. Plenty of people get worked up about it – residents, visitors, and especially writers. (Some do like it, I should add.) The latest edition of the literary magazine Etiqueta Negra (Black Label) features a two-page essay on Lima's grey sky paired with a sister article on the brilliant blue skies of Guatemala City. What a contrast between the two cities (although they do share similar histories of urban violence and civil warfare). The American writer Herman Melville (1819-1891) was horrorstruck by the city's climate. He called Lima "the saddest city on earth," a quote that gets recycled frequently in articles and guidebooks. The contemporary Peruvian writer Mario Vargas Llosa also hates Lima in the winter. He calls it "Lima, la horrible," after a book of essays by that name by Peruvian poet and playwright Sebastián Salazar Bondy. (Thanks to Ricardo for pointing out that connection between Vargas Llosa and Salazar Bondy). According to my friend Ariel Segal, a Venezuelan reporter and scholar living in Lima, Vargas Llosa's distaste for the city's weather and grime is tied in with his disgust with Lima's rigid class system, which fosters antagonism between rich and poor. You can see those frictions at work in Conversation in the Cathedral (1969), a novel set in Lima. Paradoxically, the ugliness of Lima's winter climate seems to inspire writers to write more. (See El Tonto de la Colina's "defense of la garua," posted in July 2007). For instance, when I mentioned to Ariel last week that I was thinking of blogging about la garua, he blasted off a lengthy email to me, all on the subject of Lima's weather. It's full of puns and musical references to "clouds" and "rain." Rather than botch things up by paraphrasing, I'll end this post by quoting Ariel's free-associations in full:

Dear Barbara: "You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds." -- Henry David Thoreau I don't know why Lima's sky is so cloudy and grey for half a year or more – there must be meteorological explanations. It would be interesting to find out why. Like all cities in the world, Lima has some very charming and beautiful places; however, for many months it is quite gloomy because of the cloudy grey sky, with occasional weak showers that the Limeños call "rain" ("What a big rain we had yesterday!" people will say). Some people call that sky panza de burro (donkey's belly) because of its light-grey color. I would like to share with the readers of An American in Lima my own production of "The Lima Blues" and invite everyone to get to know the city's version of The Blues Brothers -- "The Garua Guys," autistic/artistic inhabitants of a city where sunlight is luxury (maybe that is why Peru's currency is called the sol, so people can mention that word every day of the year?). People who find it hard to imagine themselves in heaven ("I'm in Heaven") because they can hardly see the sky through the clouds. For example, if you want to want to dance like Gene Kelly in Lima, you better get a stick, instead of an umbrella. Instead of "Singin' in the Rain," you can "Cantas bajo la Garua"; however, you won't be soaked at the end of your performance. You'll just be slightly damp. While in Lima you certainly can sing "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" and dream of building a "Stairway to Heaven" so you can "Walk in the Clouds," most likely, like Bryan Addams, you'll discover that "I'm finding it's hard to believe/ We're in heaven." That's Lima for you.

If you want to read more by Ariel Segal in Spanish, click here. He writes a regular column for the newspaper Peru21. Ariel also is the author of Jews of the Amazon: Self-Exile in Earthly Paradise (JPS, 1999), a fascinating nonfiction account of his encounters with descendents of Jewish rubber barons who sired children in the Amazon in the early 1900s. Ariel describes his fieldwork as a doctoral candidate in the jungle city of Iquitos, where Jewish traditions mingle with Catholic beliefs and native Amazonian practices. I confess that I am partial to this book because I helped edit an early draft of it, but I'm not its only fan: it got excellent reviews from Publisher's Weekly and the Miami Herald, among other review publications. One of the surprises in the book is Ariel's discovery that because he's Jewish, some of the indigenous women view him as a sex symbol. The turn-of-the-century businessmen who established profitable rubber businesses in the Amazon also sired children with the local women; when the Jewish men returned to their homes in Morocco, they left behind children named Saul and David, as well as a collective memory of the Jewish male as successful and virile. Ariel wasn't aware of that such a perception had been fostered among certain women of Iquitos; some of the funniest moments in Jews of the Amazon take place when self-deprecating Ariel (who describes himself as a Venezuelan Woody Allen) is interrupted in his nighttime studies by knocks on the door from attractive young women who are aroused by the news that a Jewish "doctor" is in their midst. Can Ariel maintain his scholar's objectivity when the beautiful locals are eagerly studying him? Buy the book and find out.

Winter Is…Chompa Time in Lima

Barbara — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 22:24:51 +0000

Not Peru's Red Cross, however.

Stranger yet, the bulletin goes on to state, in bold-face type:

The Peruvian Red Cross has determined that external assistance is not required, Cialis for sale, and is therefore not seeking funding or other assistance from donors at this moment. Cialis For Sale, Since this is a recurrent emergency and the National Society was prepared and included in its preventive measures the successful implementation of an awareness campaign, no DREF funds will be requested.

In other words, Cialis price, let the people of the Andes die.

A spokesperson for the PRC blamed the Peruvian government for the deaths, which the PRC refuses to classify as an "emergency" because they happen each year and are therefore preventable:

“Government authorities deal with low temperatures as a risk or a possibility, Buy no prescription Cialis online, and not as part of a sustained policy of the State to adopt permanent prevention throughout the year to avoid more deaths,” Susana Silva, [PRC] Deputy Health Ombudswoman, said in an official statement.

It's criminal.

--Barbara R. Drake

How to (Maybe) Cure a Lima Chest Cold

Barbara — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 20:03:18 +0000

Sr. Mostazo

Kaiser Pease getting his onion poultice in Where the Lilies Bloom (1974 film)

Desperately Seeking Sunlight

Barbara — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 03:51:51 +0000

Valley of Santa Eulalia, Peru, which has sun, big rocks and amazing avocado ice cream

“Panza de Burro”: The Donkey-grey Sky of Lima

Barbara — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 20:52:57 +0000

The sun disappears almost completely. The sky is the same dead grey color, from 8 in the morning to 6 at night.
A strange weather condition called garua invades the city. Garua is a damp, cold mist that hangs in the air like a cobweb and turns the sidewalks into slippery deathtraps.
It never truly rains, however, so the dirt and soot don't wash away. Buildings, plants, cars, street signs – everything is covered in layers of dust (polvo) made moist by the garua.
Humidity levels climb during winter, intensifying the cold. As the months wear on, the chill creeps deep into the marrow of your bones, until you feel like an old carrot left in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator.

Dear Barbara: "You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds." -- Henry David Thoreau I don't know why Lima's sky is so cloudy and grey for half a year or more – there must be meteorological explanations. It would be interesting to find out why. Like all cities in the world, Lima has some very charming and beautiful places; however, for many months it is quite gloomy because of the cloudy grey sky, with occasional weak showers that the Limeños call "rain" ("What a big rain we had yesterday!" people will say). Some people call that sky panza de burro (donkey's belly) because of its light-grey color. I would like to share with the readers of An American in Lima my own production of "The Lima Blues" and invite everyone to get to know the city's version of The Blues Brothers -- "The Garua Guys," autistic/artistic inhabitants of a city where sunlight is luxury (maybe that is why Peru's currency is called the sol, so people can mention that word every day of the year?). People who find it hard to imagine themselves in heaven ("I'm in Heaven") because they can hardly see the sky through the clouds. For example, if you want to want to dance like Gene Kelly in Lima, you better get a stick, instead of an umbrella. Instead of "Singin' in the Rain," you can "Cantas bajo la Garua"; however, you won't be soaked at the end of your performance. You'll just be slightly damp. While in Lima you certainly can sing "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" and dream of building a "Stairway to Heaven" so you can "Walk in the Clouds," most likely, like Bryan Addams, you'll discover that "I'm finding it's hard to believe/ We're in heaven." That's Lima for you.

Winter Is…Chompa Time in Lima

Barbara — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 22:24:51 +0000

Not Peru's Red Cross, however.

Stranger yet, the bulletin goes on to state, in bold-face type:

The Peruvian Red Cross has determined that external assistance is not required, Cialis for sale, and is therefore not seeking funding or other assistance from donors at this moment. Cialis For Sale, Since this is a recurrent emergency and the National Society was prepared and included in its preventive measures the successful implementation of an awareness campaign, no DREF funds will be requested.

In other words, Cialis price, let the people of the Andes die.

A spokesperson for the PRC blamed the Peruvian government for the deaths, which the PRC refuses to classify as an "emergency" because they happen each year and are therefore preventable:

“Government authorities deal with low temperatures as a risk or a possibility, Buy no prescription Cialis online, and not as part of a sustained policy of the State to adopt permanent prevention throughout the year to avoid more deaths,” Susana Silva, [PRC] Deputy Health Ombudswoman, said in an official statement.

It's criminal.

--Barbara R. Drake

An American in Lima » What’s up with the Weather Down There?

Barbara — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 22:24:51 +0000

Not Peru's Red Cross, however.

Stranger yet, the bulletin goes on to state, in bold-face type:

The Peruvian Red Cross has determined that external assistance is not required, Cialis for sale, and is therefore not seeking funding or other assistance from donors at this moment. Cialis For Sale, Since this is a recurrent emergency and the National Society was prepared and included in its preventive measures the successful implementation of an awareness campaign, no DREF funds will be requested.

In other words, Cialis price, let the people of the Andes die.

A spokesperson for the PRC blamed the Peruvian government for the deaths, which the PRC refuses to classify as an "emergency" because they happen each year and are therefore preventable:

“Government authorities deal with low temperatures as a risk or a possibility, Buy no prescription Cialis online, and not as part of a sustained policy of the State to adopt permanent prevention throughout the year to avoid more deaths,” Susana Silva, [PRC] Deputy Health Ombudswoman, said in an official statement.

It's criminal.

--Barbara R. Drake

How to (Maybe) Cure a Lima Chest Cold

Barbara — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 20:03:18 +0000

Sr. Mostazo

Kaiser Pease getting his onion poultice in Where the Lilies Bloom (1974 film)

Desperately Seeking Sunlight

Barbara — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 03:51:51 +0000

Valley of Santa Eulalia, Peru, which has sun, big rocks and amazing avocado ice cream

“Panza de Burro”: The Donkey-grey Sky of Lima

Barbara — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 20:52:57 +0000

The sun disappears almost completely. The sky is the same dead grey color, from 8 in the morning to 6 at night.
A strange weather condition called garua invades the city. Garua is a damp, cold mist that hangs in the air like a cobweb and turns the sidewalks into slippery deathtraps.
It never truly rains, however, so the dirt and soot don't wash away. Buildings, plants, cars, street signs – everything is covered in layers of dust (polvo) made moist by the garua.
Humidity levels climb during winter, intensifying the cold. As the months wear on, the chill creeps deep into the marrow of your bones, until you feel like an old carrot left in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator.

Dear Barbara: "You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds." -- Henry David Thoreau I don't know why Lima's sky is so cloudy and grey for half a year or more – there must be meteorological explanations. It would be interesting to find out why. Like all cities in the world, Lima has some very charming and beautiful places; however, for many months it is quite gloomy because of the cloudy grey sky, with occasional weak showers that the Limeños call "rain" ("What a big rain we had yesterday!" people will say). Some people call that sky panza de burro (donkey's belly) because of its light-grey color. I would like to share with the readers of An American in Lima my own production of "The Lima Blues" and invite everyone to get to know the city's version of The Blues Brothers -- "The Garua Guys," autistic/artistic inhabitants of a city where sunlight is luxury (maybe that is why Peru's currency is called the sol, so people can mention that word every day of the year?). People who find it hard to imagine themselves in heaven ("I'm in Heaven") because they can hardly see the sky through the clouds. For example, if you want to want to dance like Gene Kelly in Lima, you better get a stick, instead of an umbrella. Instead of "Singin' in the Rain," you can "Cantas bajo la Garua"; however, you won't be soaked at the end of your performance. You'll just be slightly damp. While in Lima you certainly can sing "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" and dream of building a "Stairway to Heaven" so you can "Walk in the Clouds," most likely, like Bryan Addams, you'll discover that "I'm finding it's hard to believe/ We're in heaven." That's Lima for you.

Winter Is…Chompa Time in Lima

Barbara — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 20:03:18 +0000

Sr. Mostazo

Kaiser Pease getting his onion poultice in Where the Lilies Bloom (1974 film)

An American in Lima » What’s up with the Weather Down There?

Barbara — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 22:24:51 +0000

Not Peru's Red Cross, however.

Stranger yet, the bulletin goes on to state, in bold-face type:

The Peruvian Red Cross has determined that external assistance is not required, Cialis for sale, and is therefore not seeking funding or other assistance from donors at this moment. Cialis For Sale, Since this is a recurrent emergency and the National Society was prepared and included in its preventive measures the successful implementation of an awareness campaign, no DREF funds will be requested.

In other words, Cialis price, let the people of the Andes die.

A spokesperson for the PRC blamed the Peruvian government for the deaths, which the PRC refuses to classify as an "emergency" because they happen each year and are therefore preventable:

“Government authorities deal with low temperatures as a risk or a possibility, Buy no prescription Cialis online, and not as part of a sustained policy of the State to adopt permanent prevention throughout the year to avoid more deaths,” Susana Silva, [PRC] Deputy Health Ombudswoman, said in an official statement.

It's criminal.

--Barbara R. Drake

How to (Maybe) Cure a Lima Chest Cold

Barbara — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 20:03:18 +0000

Sr. Mostazo

Kaiser Pease getting his onion poultice in Where the Lilies Bloom (1974 film)

Desperately Seeking Sunlight

Barbara — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 03:51:51 +0000

Valley of Santa Eulalia, Peru, which has sun, big rocks and amazing avocado ice cream

“Panza de Burro”: The Donkey-grey Sky of Lima

Barbara — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 20:52:57 +0000

The sun disappears almost completely. The sky is the same dead grey color, from 8 in the morning to 6 at night.
A strange weather condition called garua invades the city. Garua is a damp, cold mist that hangs in the air like a cobweb and turns the sidewalks into slippery deathtraps.
It never truly rains, however, so the dirt and soot don't wash away. Buildings, plants, cars, street signs – everything is covered in layers of dust (polvo) made moist by the garua.
Humidity levels climb during winter, intensifying the cold. As the months wear on, the chill creeps deep into the marrow of your bones, until you feel like an old carrot left in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator.

Dear Barbara: "You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds." -- Henry David Thoreau I don't know why Lima's sky is so cloudy and grey for half a year or more – there must be meteorological explanations. It would be interesting to find out why. Like all cities in the world, Lima has some very charming and beautiful places; however, for many months it is quite gloomy because of the cloudy grey sky, with occasional weak showers that the Limeños call "rain" ("What a big rain we had yesterday!" people will say). Some people call that sky panza de burro (donkey's belly) because of its light-grey color. I would like to share with the readers of An American in Lima my own production of "The Lima Blues" and invite everyone to get to know the city's version of The Blues Brothers -- "The Garua Guys," autistic/artistic inhabitants of a city where sunlight is luxury (maybe that is why Peru's currency is called the sol, so people can mention that word every day of the year?). People who find it hard to imagine themselves in heaven ("I'm in Heaven") because they can hardly see the sky through the clouds. For example, if you want to want to dance like Gene Kelly in Lima, you better get a stick, instead of an umbrella. Instead of "Singin' in the Rain," you can "Cantas bajo la Garua"; however, you won't be soaked at the end of your performance. You'll just be slightly damp. While in Lima you certainly can sing "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" and dream of building a "Stairway to Heaven" so you can "Walk in the Clouds," most likely, like Bryan Addams, you'll discover that "I'm finding it's hard to believe/ We're in heaven." That's Lima for you.

Winter Is…Chompa Time in Lima

Barbara — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 03:51:51 +0000

Valley of Santa Eulalia, Peru, which has sun, big rocks and amazing avocado ice cream

An American in Lima » What’s up with the Weather Down There?

Barbara — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 22:24:51 +0000

Not Peru's Red Cross, however.

Stranger yet, the bulletin goes on to state, in bold-face type:

The Peruvian Red Cross has determined that external assistance is not required, Cialis for sale, and is therefore not seeking funding or other assistance from donors at this moment. Cialis For Sale, Since this is a recurrent emergency and the National Society was prepared and included in its preventive measures the successful implementation of an awareness campaign, no DREF funds will be requested.

In other words, Cialis price, let the people of the Andes die.

A spokesperson for the PRC blamed the Peruvian government for the deaths, which the PRC refuses to classify as an "emergency" because they happen each year and are therefore preventable:

“Government authorities deal with low temperatures as a risk or a possibility, Buy no prescription Cialis online, and not as part of a sustained policy of the State to adopt permanent prevention throughout the year to avoid more deaths,” Susana Silva, [PRC] Deputy Health Ombudswoman, said in an official statement.

It's criminal.

--Barbara R. Drake

How to (Maybe) Cure a Lima Chest Cold

Barbara — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 20:03:18 +0000

Sr. Mostazo

Kaiser Pease getting his onion poultice in Where the Lilies Bloom (1974 film)

Desperately Seeking Sunlight

Barbara — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 03:51:51 +0000

Valley of Santa Eulalia, Peru, which has sun, big rocks and amazing avocado ice cream

“Panza de Burro”: The Donkey-grey Sky of Lima

Barbara — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 20:52:57 +0000

The sun disappears almost completely. The sky is the same dead grey color, from 8 in the morning to 6 at night.
A strange weather condition called garua invades the city. Garua is a damp, cold mist that hangs in the air like a cobweb and turns the sidewalks into slippery deathtraps.
It never truly rains, however, so the dirt and soot don't wash away. Buildings, plants, cars, street signs – everything is covered in layers of dust (polvo) made moist by the garua.
Humidity levels climb during winter, intensifying the cold. As the months wear on, the chill creeps deep into the marrow of your bones, until you feel like an old carrot left in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator.

Dear Barbara: "You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds." -- Henry David Thoreau I don't know why Lima's sky is so cloudy and grey for half a year or more – there must be meteorological explanations. It would be interesting to find out why. Like all cities in the world, Lima has some very charming and beautiful places; however, for many months it is quite gloomy because of the cloudy grey sky, with occasional weak showers that the Limeños call "rain" ("What a big rain we had yesterday!" people will say). Some people call that sky panza de burro (donkey's belly) because of its light-grey color. I would like to share with the readers of An American in Lima my own production of "The Lima Blues" and invite everyone to get to know the city's version of The Blues Brothers -- "The Garua Guys," autistic/artistic inhabitants of a city where sunlight is luxury (maybe that is why Peru's currency is called the sol, so people can mention that word every day of the year?). People who find it hard to imagine themselves in heaven ("I'm in Heaven") because they can hardly see the sky through the clouds. For example, if you want to want to dance like Gene Kelly in Lima, you better get a stick, instead of an umbrella. Instead of "Singin' in the Rain," you can "Cantas bajo la Garua"; however, you won't be soaked at the end of your performance. You'll just be slightly damp. While in Lima you certainly can sing "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" and dream of building a "Stairway to Heaven" so you can "Walk in the Clouds," most likely, like Bryan Addams, you'll discover that "I'm finding it's hard to believe/ We're in heaven." That's Lima for you.

Winter Is…Chompa Time in Lima

Barbara — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 20:52:57 +0000

The sun disappears almost completely. The sky is the same dead grey color, from 8 in the morning to 6 at night.
A strange weather condition called garua invades the city. Garua is a damp, cold mist that hangs in the air like a cobweb and turns the sidewalks into slippery deathtraps.
It never truly rains, however, so the dirt and soot don't wash away. Buildings, plants, cars, street signs – everything is covered in layers of dust (polvo) made moist by the garua.
Humidity levels climb during winter, intensifying the cold. As the months wear on, the chill creeps deep into the marrow of your bones, until you feel like an old carrot left in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator.

Dear Barbara: "You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds." -- Henry David Thoreau I don't know why Lima's sky is so cloudy and grey for half a year or more – there must be meteorological explanations. It would be interesting to find out why. Like all cities in the world, Lima has some very charming and beautiful places; however, for many months it is quite gloomy because of the cloudy grey sky, with occasional weak showers that the Limeños call "rain" ("What a big rain we had yesterday!" people will say). Some people call that sky panza de burro (donkey's belly) because of its light-grey color. I would like to share with the readers of An American in Lima my own production of "The Lima Blues" and invite everyone to get to know the city's version of The Blues Brothers -- "The Garua Guys," autistic/artistic inhabitants of a city where sunlight is luxury (maybe that is why Peru's currency is called the sol, so people can mention that word every day of the year?). People who find it hard to imagine themselves in heaven ("I'm in Heaven") because they can hardly see the sky through the clouds. For example, if you want to want to dance like Gene Kelly in Lima, you better get a stick, instead of an umbrella. Instead of "Singin' in the Rain," you can "Cantas bajo la Garua"; however, you won't be soaked at the end of your performance. You'll just be slightly damp. While in Lima you certainly can sing "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" and dream of building a "Stairway to Heaven" so you can "Walk in the Clouds," most likely, like Bryan Addams, you'll discover that "I'm finding it's hard to believe/ We're in heaven." That's Lima for you.

An American in Lima » What’s up with the Weather Down There?

Barbara — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 22:24:51 +0000

Not Peru's Red Cross, however.

Stranger yet, the bulletin goes on to state, in bold-face type:

The Peruvian Red Cross has determined that external assistance is not required, Cialis for sale, and is therefore not seeking funding or other assistance from donors at this moment. Cialis For Sale, Since this is a recurrent emergency and the National Society was prepared and included in its preventive measures the successful implementation of an awareness campaign, no DREF funds will be requested.

In other words, Cialis price, let the people of the Andes die.

A spokesperson for the PRC blamed the Peruvian government for the deaths, which the PRC refuses to classify as an "emergency" because they happen each year and are therefore preventable:

“Government authorities deal with low temperatures as a risk or a possibility, Buy no prescription Cialis online, and not as part of a sustained policy of the State to adopt permanent prevention throughout the year to avoid more deaths,” Susana Silva, [PRC] Deputy Health Ombudswoman, said in an official statement.

It's criminal.

--Barbara R. Drake

How to (Maybe) Cure a Lima Chest Cold

Barbara — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 20:03:18 +0000

Sr. Mostazo

Kaiser Pease getting his onion poultice in Where the Lilies Bloom (1974 film)

Desperately Seeking Sunlight

Barbara — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 03:51:51 +0000

Valley of Santa Eulalia, Peru, which has sun, big rocks and amazing avocado ice cream

“Panza de Burro”: The Donkey-grey Sky of Lima

Barbara — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 20:52:57 +0000

The sun disappears almost completely. The sky is the same dead grey color, from 8 in the morning to 6 at night.
A strange weather condition called garua invades the city. Garua is a damp, cold mist that hangs in the air like a cobweb and turns the sidewalks into slippery deathtraps.
It never truly rains, however, so the dirt and soot don't wash away. Buildings, plants, cars, street signs – everything is covered in layers of dust (polvo) made moist by the garua.
Humidity levels climb during winter, intensifying the cold. As the months wear on, the chill creeps deep into the marrow of your bones, until you feel like an old carrot left in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator.

Dear Barbara: "You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds." -- Henry David Thoreau I don't know why Lima's sky is so cloudy and grey for half a year or more – there must be meteorological explanations. It would be interesting to find out why. Like all cities in the world, Lima has some very charming and beautiful places; however, for many months it is quite gloomy because of the cloudy grey sky, with occasional weak showers that the Limeños call "rain" ("What a big rain we had yesterday!" people will say). Some people call that sky panza de burro (donkey's belly) because of its light-grey color. I would like to share with the readers of An American in Lima my own production of "The Lima Blues" and invite everyone to get to know the city's version of The Blues Brothers -- "The Garua Guys," autistic/artistic inhabitants of a city where sunlight is luxury (maybe that is why Peru's currency is called the sol, so people can mention that word every day of the year?). People who find it hard to imagine themselves in heaven ("I'm in Heaven") because they can hardly see the sky through the clouds. For example, if you want to want to dance like Gene Kelly in Lima, you better get a stick, instead of an umbrella. Instead of "Singin' in the Rain," you can "Cantas bajo la Garua"; however, you won't be soaked at the end of your performance. You'll just be slightly damp. While in Lima you certainly can sing "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" and dream of building a "Stairway to Heaven" so you can "Walk in the Clouds," most likely, like Bryan Addams, you'll discover that "I'm finding it's hard to believe/ We're in heaven." That's Lima for you.

Winter Is…Chompa Time in Lima

Barbara — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 02:23:44 +0000

It's June 4, and that means winter here in Lima. Back in northern Florida, where we lived for six years, I'd be wearing short and turning on the AC this time of year. Strange to be pulling out the winter jackets and wool pants, but I have to: Lima esta frio! (Did I mention? None of the houses here has central heating. It's like centuries of building practices have passed the country by.) To stay warm, Limenos pile on layers of shirts and chompas. The stores are full of them now, made of alpaca and sheep's wool. The big department store Sagafallabella is pushing chompas like crazy. When you walk in the entrance of the Miraflores store, your eye is besieged by a flotilla of "chompa" signs flying overhead, like the one above. Is it just me, or isn't she really creepy?