Lima!

September 1:

Adventure strikes! Well, sorta. We arrived in Lima late last night. Forget Cocaine, Peru leads the world in the production of airport greeting signs. A big crowd lined the path to the baggage claim waving homemade signs greeting friends and family. As I walked through the corridor of marker-and-cardboard (And, for the creme de la creme, whiteboard and marker) welcomes, I wondered how it would feel to have sign with my name. Someone, anyone to love me. But no, I'm all alone is the freezing blackness of isolated despair. Haha, no, not really. I may some day be struck with airport sentimentalia, but it will probably be in a less foreign airport, because I was honestly more concerned with customs. I don't speak any Spanish, and I was terrified that I'd have to defend my bags from some cruel Hispanic man with a neat, orderly moustache and dual hatreds for Americans and undeclared animal products. As I passed through customs, I was instructed to press a button that would randomly illuminate a red or green light, thereby deciding whether my bags were subject to search. Fortunately, an elderly gentleman cut me in line and took the full brunt of the "red light of inquisition." I gleefully skated free with my "green light of disinterest."