Bus routes have been learned. All I have to do is find the purple and gold San German bus and know whether to get off at San Miguel or the military hospital. If I'm going to INABIF, the orphanage, with Capernaum, I get off at San Miguel. If I'm going to Doris's house, I get off at the hospital. And on the way back, I can get off on our street.
Last night, Christian and I decided it would be fun to go downtown Lima for the celebration of the city's anniversary. When we arrived, there were people everywhere. The President's house was let up, with guards at every door. All the old cathedrals were also illuminated. Truly a beautiful scene. We made our way to the Plaza de San Martin where we found an outdoor concert taking place. The band offered a mixed sound of traditional Incan flute accompanied by heavy metal guitars. I enjoyed it. It gave Christian a headache.
After a while, we headed back to the main square where the Presidential Palace is located. The square was peculiarly empty for this sort of celebration. Near the fountain at the center of the square we found a security guard and asked when the festivities would begin. The answer? Six O'clock, the day before. Just our luck.
After discovering that we had arrived a day late, Christian and I headed back to the barrio for dinner. We found a place to get pollo a la brasa. But no sooner did we finish than I had to rush home to use the restroom. I've been experiencing severe stomach cramps every time I eat since eating ceviche with the boys...last Saturday.
Pollo a la brasa is one of my favorite meals here, and so I ate a lot of it. And I paid for it by staying up most of the night. Today, I focused on resting. Drinking water. Eating soda crackers. Drinking water. Sleeping. Drinking water. You get the picture.
Later in the day, after I had rested and was feeling more myself, Christian, Samuel, and Janeth decided it was time to get me out of the house. We wanted to see Sherlock Holmes. The trouble was finding the subtitled version, not the dubbed version. The four of us all speak English, and there was no way I would be able to understand a movie as complicated as Sherlock Holmes in Spanish. A romantic comedy, something with a simple, predictable storyline? Maybe. But not Sherlock. Anyway, we called ahead to one theater, and they said they had the version with subtitles. But they lied. So we hurried and grabbed a taxi to another theater, and were just in time to catch the subtitled version of the film.
But about half way through the film, the picture went fuzzy, and then the audio cut out. Then there was a loud noise and Robert Downey Jr.'s face caught fire. Something had gone terribly wrong in the projection room. It took them several minutes to get the movie up and running again. Christian has a theory on why it happened. I must be bad luck.
Joking aside, I'm glad I don't rely on luck. I'm glad I serve a God who knows why I'm here, and knows what he has planned. I'm glad that he's big enough to handle my questions. I'm glad I don't have to know all the answers. And I'm glad he's given me friends that can find the humor in each and every situation.