Feliz Fiestas Patrias!

Yes, I`m still alive (how: I`m not so sure).

Hello from Lima, Peru, where it is currently Fiestas Patrias, or independence day. I have spent the last day and night pretty much entirely in Jorge Chavez international airport here in Lima, despite an ill-fated excursion with Cordelia into the Miraflores district.

Ill-fated is only somewhat misleading, as we actually went on two separate excursions into the city; one having been extremely unsuccessful, the other fairly enjoyable.

Upon arriving yesterday to Lima airport at 9am, Cordelia and I stored our luggage and headed in to Miraflores to revisit my beloved ceviche paradise, Punto Azul, and see an English film (we were gunning for Batman). Our first stop was the Scotiabank ATM in order to sacar the appropriate funds to enjoy our little day trip. However, upon checking my backpack for the all-purpose passport/Chilean ID/ATM card and credit card holder, a wave of horror began to flood over me. IT WASN`T THERE.

People, to say that I was scared would be a complete understatement. It wasn`t just my ability to access money that was lacking; in addition, I had absolutely no way to return to Chile as my passport, Chilean ID, and visa were in that pouch. I was really not looking forward to a two-week prison term in the gray, misty depression hole that is Lima.

Yet after searching through all my possessions and receiving negative responses from every possible number at the airport, including the taxi driver`s cell phone, my options were not looking all that promising. Realizing that we had no choice but to return to the airport to search for ourselves, Cordelia and I hopped back in a taxi to start investigating. Still, by 1pm, we had no leads after speaking to every security agency, lost-and-found office, and LAN airlines official...and we were seriously considering facing our fate and starting the whole process of reclaiming our identity.

And then Cordelia, in all her infinite 17 year-old miraculous god bless her wisdom, suggested that she go check at the call center that we had briefly stopped in to make a call earlier that morning. Upon returning, she managed the most misleading and heart-breaking look of resignation before switching to a massive smile...SHE HAD FOUND IT. It was still in the phone booth we had used. Unbelievable.

And with that discovery, she could return to New Jersey, and I to my beloved mini-village on the sea, Taltal. We then headed back in to Miraflores to enjoy a wonderful fresh seafood lunch at Punto Azul and hang out at LarcoMar, a gringofied shopping mall built into the cliffs of Lima. Although we were too late in arriving at the theater in order to enjoy Batman, we just hung out: Cordelia ordered a coffee at gringobucks, we got a few drinks at my favorite sports bar from last summer, and we finally returned to the airport completely satisfied and she ready to get home to New Jersey. Almost as a small concession to my fragile emotional state (as I was definitely not looking forward to parting ways with Cordelia until Christmas), her flight was delayed three hours, and we spent the last bit of time together in an airport hotel I reserved for myself for the night (more on this later).

Finally, she being eager to return to her friends, our parents, cats, and her unbelievably comfortable bed, I walked her over to the depature area and saw her off at 12am, despite having a very strong urge to just destroy her passport and ticket and bring her back with me to Chile. Fighting back tears and relishing that all-too rare choking feeling, I reluctantly returned back to my airport hotel room to have what was probably the best sleep of the last two weeks, undoubtedly aided by the zero feet of altitude!

Now, as I await my flight back to the border of Peru and Chile, I cannot believe that the next time I will see Cordelia will be Christmas Eve. We had an incredible yet taxing trip together (many details to come), and I am already scheming up our next brother-sister expedition!

Any suggestions?