I planned to write quite a different blog (about my excellent weekend on a river rafting excursion among other tour stops) than the one that follows, but when you travel, there are always surprises.  I’ll tell you right now not to read any further unless you are prepared to hear me vent.  If you are, pour yourself a cup of coffee or a glass of wine or some tea and settle in a cozy place for reading.  Maybe some cookies and hot chocolate since most of you live in cold weather.  Try to read it as a tragi-comedy…. kind of reminds me of an old, old movie with somebody starring in it that I can’t remember – oh, wait, Jack Lemon — and the wife is played by somebody I don’t remember, and it’s about their nightmare of a trip to New York City.   Let me know if you know the movie I mean.  I can picture the woman in my mind quite clearly, but just can’t place her.  If you can, I’d love to know.

Before I traveled, I made copies of all my documentation in case of an emergency, such as losing my passport or driver’s license or any of the other documents you need to travel, which I uncharacteristically carefully stored in its own special folder.   Long story short, and this is probably the only part of my blog that will be short,  in my rush to get to school yesterday morning I grabbed the wrong folder and took that folder to school in my bag instead of my school folder.

School went great, and at 3:00 a group of us from the school went with the activities director to a cafe for a casual chat. There were about eight of us, and we settled at two tables, with me at one end and the school person, whose name is Jovannes, at the other end.  First stupid move was to do something I had never done before on this trip, which was to put my bag down next to me instead of between my legs or on my lap.  Lap or legs, that’s the way I’ve carried the bag since I’ve been here.

A woman sat down at the table right behind me.  I didn’t notice her until I saw some movement to my left and looked behind me at the woman, who had her purse right next to mine and appeared to be getting something out of it.  She seemed to be on the phone and looked away from me with a frown, so I just moved my bag a distance away from her and went back to chatting and waiting for the waiter to get to me so I could place my order.  I thought it was kind of weird that he kept skipping over me, so I was paying quite a bit of attention to him and not my surroundings, and he kept glancing away from us.  Finally, he got to me and I ordered a bottle of cold water.  It is insanely hot this week, and I can’t get enough water.  I’m drinking all day and it’s immediately pouring out of my body in sweat.  I know, I know, TMI.

Anyway, after I placed my order I happened to glance down – no bag, no woman at the table behind me.  Of course I immediately knew that that woman had snagged it, and I am pretty convinced that the waiter was distracting me to make it possible.  In the bag, of course, was my money, my driver’s license, my Medicare card with my Social Security number on it, my phone, AND MY HOMEWORK!!!!

Oh, wait!  It gets better.  I have not been carrying my passport with me, but the tour guide this weekend told me I needed to have it with me always.  I guess she meant I should have it when traveling, but there is a huge police presence here, and the possibility of being stopped was kind of scary, so I followed her advice, and it was also in the bag.  So now I have no phone, no passport, no driver’s license, my Social Security number is on my Medicare card and yesterday I guessed about 180 soles, which is about $60, was in the bag.  Thinking about it today and the money I had for the weekend, I think it was probably more.   I don’t give a darn about the money; that’s the least important thing.

I know this is disjointed, and lots of details nobody but me cares about, but part of my writing this is hoping that someday it will make a funny story, and I don’t want to forget the details.  Today, however, is not that day when it will be funny.

So the police respond quite quickly, by 3:30 and then stand around looking very official and important in their spotless  uniforms and not exactly doing anything.  I suggested looking in the trash in case she had just taken the money and dumped the rest of it, but they didn’t think much of my suggestion.  So then Jovannes and I were bundled into the police car and taken to the station, where we were met by a phalanx of officers.  They didn’t actually take a report or anything, but let me use their computer so I could try to cancel my bank card.   We spent a long time with them just talking among themselves with very serious faces and again not actually doing anything.

At that point, around 4:00, I started saying I need to call my Embassy; I need to call my Embassy and my bank.  They told me to be patient and calm.  Meanwhile, I had visions of this woman drawing all my money out of the bank.  When I used the police station’s computer to try to notify my bank, I couldn’t remember my password, because it’s saved on my computer.  I made several attempts at trying to get it right, but no go.  At about 4:30 I suggested that we go to the hotel and get my computer so I could make a report to the bank.  Little did I know that all the computer does is give a bunch of phone numbers.   Then I thought I’d call a good friend, but sadly, the police department does not have the ability to make international calls.  As I subequently learned, neither does the school or the hotel……… speaking of which, I need to call the Embassy to make an appointment, just as soon as I figure out exactly how to do that.

So at around 5:30, Jovannes tried to call the Embassy, which by then of course was closed for the day.

5:40, they tell us we can leave, but first they will drive us to the hotel to get my laptop and then we have to go to another police department to make an actual report.  Oh, great.  Now I’m gonna make this short.  The hotel’s wifi was not working, so we took my computer, at the suggestion of the police, to the station.   They did not have wifi, so the fact that I had my computer was useless and I wondered why in sam blue hill they wanted me to bring it.  It took til 7:30 for them to write up a report, while one of them lectured me about keeping my bag between my feet.  Thanks.  Lesson learned.  No lecture needed.  I was already beating myself up pretty good for being so stupid and careless.

Jovannes and I ended up having to take quite a few taxis here and there when we weren’t in the back of the police car, which she paid for.  This was yet another example of the kindness of people, and I have to say particularly Peruanos, who seem to go out of their way to help people.  We were both so tired that instead of her making the long commute home in a bus which would be packed to capacity and then some,  we decided she would stay at the hotel with me.

Meanwhile, I had drunk all the water I had with me, and was obsessing about the fact that I would have no water for the morning to brush my teeth.  I’m sure that sounds stupid to some of you, but when you have no money to buy a bottle of water, it is pretty serious.  It is hot as bloody blue blazes here.  Also, using tap water to rinse my toothbrush is a pretty good recipe for some serious stomach issues.  Meanwhile, Jovannes was starving, so we walked to the park and she got some street food and she bought a bottle of water for me.

Back to the hotel where we both collapsed.  Jovannes spent the night sick from the street food; I got no sleep just because of everything that happened yesterday, so we both woke up exhausted.  Off to the school bright and early with my laptop so I could use their wifi to try again to make some contacts.  Tried to report my driver’s license missing, but of course that can’t be done online without the numbers on the license, which was in the bag, and the copy of it which was in the folder that was in the bag that the thief took.    Another item that I forgot to mention to the police about the contents of the bag – my Benadryl cream was in the bag, and I have some pretty nasty bites that are driving me nuts with the itching.  That’s almost more important than my passport.

Then the sweetest thing happened.  A woman in my class from Denver – it was just the two of us in the class, and yesterday was her first day – told me she talked to her husband last night and they wanted to give me $50, along with another 50 soles.  She said she would absolutely not agree for me to pay it back; that it was a gift.  Just another example of the kindness of strangers.

And OMG, a  note on another totally unrelated subject.  My fellow Montanans will appreciate this.  Every Monday new students join the school.  Chatting before class, I discovered that there is a woman from Whitefish, Montana attending classes.  Why do I always get so excited about meeting Montanans anywhere in the world?  For those of you who don’t live now or have never lived in Montana, it is because there are so darn few of us that it’s a pretty special event.

Anyway, back to business.   The cab arrives to take me to the embassy.  After a long and expensive ride, we finally arrive.  There was quite a long line for visa applicants when I got there, but there was a door with a plaque identifying it as the portal for Americans with emergencies and a guard standing there.  When I tried to approach him, he insisted that I get in line with all the people who were waiting to apply for visas….. none of them from the United States.  I knew I was blending in here quite nicely, but that was kind of surprising just the same. When I finally got to the head of the line I was told I needed to talk to – wait for it – the guard.

The guard said I needed to have made an appointment the day before, even though a sign said that the rule about appointments didn’t apply if it was an emergency.   I explained that it was indeed an emergency and I had no phone and hadn’t been able to call.  Tough patooties, toots, you need an appointment, and anyway, you can’t bring your laptop into the building, but you can leave it with those folks on the street sitting under a blue canopy charging to keep people’s laptops and other possessions in a pile behind them.  Um, since I was pretty sure, due to the way things had been happening all day and for the past 24 hours that I may never see my computer again, I opted to return home in the again very expensive taxi, have a good cry and then get back to work trying to solve the problem.

Oh, another explanation is necessary here.  In Lima, the taxi drivers don’t actually have to and therefore don’t know where anything is.  Anyone can drive a taxi.  Matter of fact, I’m thinking about having my car shipped down here, cuz I know the city pretty darn well by now, and a damn sight better than some of the cab drivers I’ve been with.  They also don’t know any of the landmarks, such as the park that is half a block from my hotel that is only the second most famous in the city.

My 20-minute ride took about an hour, as he first took me to the wrong park.  Then when we got back to a place where I recognized the surroundings and knew the correct route to the hotel, I told him to turn left (in Spanish, by the way), but he was sure that was wrong, so we continued on an endless loop around the park.  He got turned around and I’m breathing a sigh of relief as we were headed back in the general direction of the park and my hotel, until  he googled the street on his phone and doubled back, but to a part of the street that is about 20 blocks from my hotel and across the expressway.  Jesus God in Heaven.  Finally convinced him to go back to the park by any route necessary – any part of the park.

Finally, finally, finally, we reach a part of the park that is only about five blocks from me.  I told him I’d get out there and walk, but NO, HE WANTED TO DRIVE THE LOOP AGAIN. NO WAY JOSE.  I had had just about enough, and I yelled ALTO, ALTO, forgetting that that is Spanish for tall, not stop.  Bear in mind I’m looking at what resembles a stop sign at an intersection that says Pare, which is stop, I’m guessing, but who knows, since stopping at intersections is only a suggestion here.  The most important part of the cab is the horn, which is used incessantly while driving through stop signs, narrowly avoiding any oncoming traffic, sometimes by inches.  I would have just jumped out of the cab, but he already had my money, which he grabbed when I asked if he could make change.  That’s sometimes an issue here, and the taxi drivers usually try to find someone on the street who can make change for them.  Drivers get very upset with passengers when the driver can’t make change.  (And also when they don’t know where something is and you don’t, either.)

So I’m saying ALTO, ALTO, and cambien, which is close enough to “change” that he should have been able to figure out that I wanted my change.  A street officer notices the commotion and approaches us.  They confer and she tells him that my street is about five blocks away.  By this point I have my hands covering my face so I don’t scream that I effing know where it is and I just want to get my change and get out of the effing car.  I am close to hysterical by this point.  He continued to drive further from the hotel with me in the back seat saying alto, por favor, alto, alto, alto.

Thank god he got tired of my whimpering and stopped the car, thrust my change at me and said gracias, not very nicely.  I answered gracias even more not nicely and limped to the hotel, where I immediately had a good cry to start the pity party which is ending right about now.

Later…….

Just got off the phone with the American Embassy so I could make an appointment with them.  She told me to come in tomorrow and that I could fill out some forms and that I would need $135.00 for the replacement passport.  Then just as we were about to hang up, she said oh, wait a minute – we’re not open tomorrow.  I am so very glad she remembered that, since if I had gotten there and found them closed I would have had a meltdown on the street and ended up either in jail or in a hospital.  So I have an appointment on Thursday when they told me I can fill out the POS792 and the EFFING176 and the LOL123 and quite possibly the GURDUMB for getting your purse stolen and then I can use their phone to  call friends and family to see if they’ll send money.  I don’t know just exactly how that would work, since I need the money on Thursday and I will only be able to call on Thursday, but perhaps there is some new technology that I don’t know about.  Or maybe they’re just going to have Scotty beam it up.  Anyway, by that time I should have some money from my very good friend, who shall remain anonymous unless he wishes me to divulge his sainthood!   I  can’t even remember how he figured out how to do it, but I’m not going to think about it right at this moment.

On the way back to the hotel from the Embassy this morning, I noticed a building that was identified as the “Oficina de Normalizacion”, which I think you can figure out.  I almost made the driver stop there, as I thought for a minute maybe they could help me, but then I decided that probably wasn’t possible.

I wonder when I’m going to wake up and realize this is just a bad dream?

A couple of bright spots in my day:  I reached into my pocket this morning and was thriled to find one sole, which I am keeping as my lucky charm.   The hugs I’ve received from friends and teachers at the school.  The sweet kiss on my forehead from my favorite waiter when he asked why I was only having a sandwich (the absolutely cheapest thing on the menu) for lunch/dinner, and I told him my purse had been stolen and I didn’t have too much cash for a few days.   Then he came back and told me that lunch today was on the house.  Man.  Of course I dissolved into tears, as I just can’t take too much kindness at this point.

This will all be in the past in a few days and as I said, someday it will be funny.  Not sure when, but someday.  Now I have to decide whether to publish this or just keep it as a diary.  I’ll get back to you on that.

So I’m back and have just decided, oh hell, I’m gonna publish it, because I don’t want to have to answer questions from different people.  Not gonna proofread it again.  All errors are mine and mine alone.

Oh, and by the way, did I mention that the air conditioning at the hotel is also not working?  Since yesterday.  My mama told me there’d be days like this.