I can attest that the opposite is true. The people you love the most, you can too easily hate ... but that's not the point of this post.
The truth is, I used to hate Lima. I used to hate L.A. I used to be naive. But I let them both in. And now I have two hearts.
Everyone in L.A. and Arizona keeps saying, "I miss you." I can't say the same, and I'm sorry. THE REASON IS THE INTERNET. My friends Stateside are online all the time, like me, and I'm not ashamed of the fact. I get to see them virtually all the time, in real time. And that is COOL. Networking is part of my job (corresponding with students and professors) and, believe it or not, I am constantly working (actually reading and writing anthropological theory and method and grants and announcements and syllabi) in another window. As such, when I need a break, I click open another window and say "hi."
But here in Peru, people aren't online so much. I know, because I ask them. It's one of the questions I ask my friends and the people who participate in my study (who graciously estimate for me exactly how much time they spend online). We must MAKE TIME for one another, face time. Now granted, everyone has Facebook (though Hi5 is way more popular), but they're not on it, like anywhere near as much as we are. The teenagers are.
But I digress. The point is, I WILL miss my friends here, and I have a lot. That is my way: I am social, and I must be, for I need people (which, according to a rather famous song, makes me one of the luckiest people in the world), and I make deep friendships easily. They help me, and I help them a bit, I hope. I assume that if I am not helping them, they would leave.
I can't come back too soon. Maybe in August I can. Maybe I can bring a friend, because I won't be toooooooo busy. But it would be nice to have a vacation somewhere I haven't been, too. Or to see my friends on Hawaii.
Sometimes I think it seems like my work IS a vacation, but it isn't. It's more like I get settled here and then I have to leave again, and it sucks, because I DO get attached to people, and places have power, and buildings and plants and all. Then I get used to the water, and then I can start to eat lettuce (though strawberries are another story - ask my friend C!).
I leave Monday morning, really early, after a "despedida," which is a going-away party. I am sad to leave certain specific people, though one is visiting L.A. soon enough, and that will be FUN ... I can guarantee him ... we are free birds and we like to dance and eat and laugh together ... and no one is allowed to care (at least on my end).
Nonetheless, I miss my kitchen and my sewing machine and I'm thinking about moving and I want to sit in my office with the beautiful view at UCLA and all that. I just got new knives and a new magazine subscription and a new stock pot for soup and chili.
But I'm not homesick. That's because, I think, it's my first time living here without being married or in a relationship. It is AWESOME not to have ties when you're doing this. To have ties is too hard, too distracting, at least for me.
There was an article in the more liberal Limeño paper yesterday. It warned that in 5 WEALTHY districts there wouldn't be water for 13 hours today. I live in one of these districts.
http://www.larepublica.pe/sociedad/17/03/2010/atencion-este-jueves-habra-corte-de-agua-en-cinco-distritos-de-lima
I was stressed - I hadn't showered and these little sugar ants are really into my dirty dish (not dishes) lately. I needed water. And then I thought, "What the HELL? The city knows ahead of time that there won't be water for HOW LONG?"
And I mean no offense, but Lima is poor, ok? There are five classes here, A-E, and Class E is so poor it hurts even hearts of steel. So I can see half a day without water in the "cones;" I'm sure it's common.
But how can a modern city - the fastest growing city on this continent - possibly advertise such a warning?
I have three AWESOME assistants from the Catholic University here in town. They are bright as hell, and, more importantly, motivated. One said that this is normal, though not in this season (the rainy season in the highlands, where Lima's water derives), and that Classes A-B have cisterns for just such occasion. He rolled his eyes and said that if he turned on the shower and nothing came out, he'd just go turn on the alternate water source.
I don't think I have a cistern on my roof; I've never seen a way to turn it on. So I'm pissed. In I guess an arrogant way - god forbid I can't bathe for one day. People here can't freaking eat. But this city needs to get her shit together if she wants two hearts (modernity and history?).
Some photos of my recent trip to Ancash, out of context:
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