Symphony
0Lima, Peru
4th October 2007
Today I visited Pachacámac, a vast archaeological site to the South of Lima. From what I could gather from the guide, the site has been occupied by several cultures including the Wari, Ishmay and Lima, who preceded the Inca. At various locations as I looked at the ruins of these ancient and relatively sophisticated civilisations, the view of the shantytowns on Lima's outskirts was inescapable, and I found myself contemplating the similar fates imposed on the original inhabitants of the world's continents by European settlement.
I have to confess I'd never really had a picture in mind of Lima. When they think of Peru, most people think of Machu Picchu, Llamas, and mountains. When people speak of Peru, that seems to be most of what they talk about as well. I've never heard or read a description of Lima, and I'm beginning to work out why. The locals tell me that when most tourists come through here, it's the dry season, which is best for trips into the jungle or the Inca Trail etc, but not so great for visiting Lima itself, as the city is almost constantly shrouded in mist. Add to this the dry, desert landscape from which it rises, only minimal park land, and the visible poverty that plagues this country, and a visitor could be forgiven for feeling depressed (or is that guilty?) on their arrival.
There is a fine dust that settles on everything, whipped up from the giant sand dunes that surround and interlace the city by the coastal breezes that sweep in off the Pacific each afternoon. The grand old colonial mansions of the coastal suburbs are coated in a sandy film, making even the finest buildings look haggard. Shanty towns swarm over the hilly regions of the city, and along the chaotic streets, buildings stand half completed, the reinforcement mesh of the structure reaching skywards in a frieze, waiting futilely for the work to recommence.
In these shells of buildings; these cages for humanity, people scrape out the basics of life. Some of them are fortunate enough to have a job in tourist zones, or more likely, use their entrepreneurship to hawk goods at the major road intersections of the city. But they are really only making enough to feed themselves and their families. None of them are making their fortunes.
The advertisements we see on 1st world televisions do not exaggerate the conditions, yet somehow they cannot fully convey the burdens of these people, who seem to struggle on regardless. You cannot help but admire them for their ability to continue living in an environment as hostile to their existence as this, and wonder how capitalism can ever be considered a success when it forces so many people to live in this way.
Peru has its rich and middle classes, that is for sure, but the poor are by far the most visible, the most numerous. Perhaps the most demoralising aspect of seeing this first hand, is the simultaneous realisation that speaking about it, or trying to rally support for the cause of improving the lives of these people, is not going to make any difference. I'm well aware that I'm not the first person to come here and feel this way, to want to do something that will help appease the poverty of this country, and indeed this continent, and hopefully I'm also not the first to realise that it won't be until the 1st world changes the way in which it thinks of and treats the 3rd, before real change will come.
But as I am often told: “This is Peru. It is what it is.”
