Lake Titicaca
A few weeks ago someone asked me what I missed most about Peru. I had to think about the question because even though I feel great affection for the countries where I was fortunate to have spent chunks of my life, namely Saudi Arabia, South Africa, Greece, and Peru, when it’s time to move, I am usually ready. Even when I left my beloved Athens, after living there for three years in my 20s, it was time for change. It may be because I have lived exactly half my life—twenty-two years—overseas that I tend to get “ants my pants” when I have been in one place for too long.
Greek, Peruvian, and American family all gathered for a meal before our wedding.
After living in Lima for six years, my husband and I were moving to San Diego, and though I was terribly excited to be close to my family again, goodbyes are the worst. When my husband hugged his family and tears flowed, I knew my Peruvian husband would now, unfortunately, be on the other side of these long-distance familial relationships.
Hugo and his childhood friends
Thus, what I miss most are the wonderful moments with my Peruvian family and friends. Loved ones gathered in our apartment as I made my famous pisco sours, days at the beach drinking chelas and eating choros a la chalaca. I miss calling friends last minute, at 6 p.m. on a Friday afternoon, and by 11 p.m. our apartment was full of familiar faces laughing and listening to merengue. I also miss strolls in San Isidro with our three bulldogs, sipping coffee at Parque Kennedy. And—of course—I miss ceviche.
Yes, I certainly miss the seafood. In fact, I often crave Peruvian cuisine; for me it’s of the finest in the world. My mouth salivates when I think about ceviche from Pescados Capitales, 
arroz con mariscos from Segundo Muelle, lomo saltado from Tanta, or Elenita’s ahí de gallina. But the finest delicacy from Peru is, in my opinion, not the food.
It’s the people and, more specifically, their manners.
I’m not talking about their manners when drivers of combis, zipping down Javier Prado (a busy three-lane freeway in Lima) would scream and honk their horn, while simultaneously cutting me off. (Though one bus driver after insulting me, did send me a kiss. All I could do was laugh.) I’m thinking about Peruvians who are not behind a steering wheel.
I found that Peruvians have the most delicate, considerate manners. This was somewhat shocking to me because I came from sunny San Diego where people perpetually smile. I didn’t think I would ever meet people that were more polite than San Diegans. These sun-tanned, micro-beer drinking, say good-morning-to everyone people seem as if they have already gone to heaven, as if they have this secret city made of eternal sunshine, (but only in their minds?). For me, it’s a bit too perfect, a bit too tranquil. But San Diegans are great people; my closest family and friends live in SD suburbs; even my mother has become more of a San Diegan than a Greek! (Maybe that’s also why I hold on so tightly to my Greek roots—I like things that are a bit more tumultuous, a bit wilder.) So moving to Peru was comforting. In this new country, I met versions of my loud Greeks (who I adore) and happy San Diegans (who I admire) but mixed with something extra: this new delicacy that I had never before encountered.
When I first moved to Peru, my husband and I were in Wong—the Super Supermarket of Peru. We bumped into a college friend that he knew, and when Hugo introduced me, the man dove in for a kiss. I didn’t know what to do, so I pulled away. My husband later educated me, telling me that when one is introduced, a kiss follows a simultaneous handshake. I don’t mind kissing customs—I just didn’t know the Peruvian one. Later, when we went to a party and there were about ten people sitting around a circular sofa, I hesitated, and then looked incredulously at my husband. Was I really expected to go around and kiss everyone? Hugo’s eyes told me “Si!” Initially, it felt strange. Then I grew to appreciate it—even like it! This kissing custom makes people recognize one another in a most intimate way.
Upon visiting friends in San Diego years later, my husband and I walked into a gathering and no one even turned around. It was rude awakening for me as I had not only learned to appreciate “the kiss,” but now expected it. From the corner of the room, I introduced my husband; a few people turned around and said “Hi” from afar, but most kept talking. Not because they were ill-mannered, but different country, different unwritten “rules.”
I also found it interesting when teaching at the American School of Lima “the Gringos,” as we were called with cariño, would see each other at school, and we would nod: “What’s up?” “Hey.” Sometimes we would be as polite to say: “Good Morning,” but at after-school functions we all got kissy-kissy. Greetings between gringos took on the delicacy of Peruvians.
These delicate manners that I grew to love and appreciate extended far beyond kissing. When I needed something, a Peruvian friend or colleague would go out of his or her way. Not to say my American, Canadian, and British friends weren’t helpful, but Peruvians helped with a sort of joie de vivre—“I’m here! I’m ready. Where do you need to go?”
And then there were birthdays. No one ever forgot your birthday and Peruvians made you feel super-duper-incredibly-awesomely special. These were the days before Facebook alerts, birthdays were noted and celebrated. As a teacher, my class would sing to every birthday student, both in English and then in Spanish. When it was my birthday, the phone calls, hugs, and kisses were plentiful. Peruvians truly get the importance of this day—one was brought to earth and there is no other day as special.
These are just a few of the delicacies of Peru. This South American country is rich history, art, culture, commerce, organic products, and geographic bio-diversity. When one thinks of Peru, undoubtedly, Machu Picchu comes to mind. The four-day Inka trail was, indeed, one of my favorite adventures, but Lake Titicaca remains my favorite place; ceviche unequivocally my favorite food, but none of these foods or places compare to this country’s greatest commodity: the warm-hearted Peruvian people with their delicate manners.
Lake Titicaca
It’s a delicacy that I will never forget and has changed me forever.
kimberlykrobeson 