Only in Peru...

Today I needed to buy buckets. This was the main outing that needed to happen as I had told 11 señoras that if they purified their water with sun in the traditional SODIS way (google that if you’re really interested) then I would bestow upon them a bucket with a spicket with which to keep their drinking water. Only one flaw in that plan: those dumb buckets are hard to find…

There were a total of three in San Marcos, two in Chavín, and my first round of buckets (there were two bucket rounds, obviously) wiped out these and four that I found in Huaraz. “Restocking” is not a popular term here so as I set out for my second search, over a month later, I found none in San Marcos or Chavín.

Off to Huaraz then….

Store #1: Had three buckets in stock, when to go look for more in the inside market (roughly 100 vendors, probably 10 in plastic wares) with NO luck.

Store #2: One bucket in stock. “Big run on buckets today.” What?! Who has runs on buckets?

I guess people in the bucket industry…

Store #2 told me about a man in the outside market who had some so I set off.

Stand #3: An outside stand in a crowded market. He had six buckets and made holes in them himself with his knife for the spickets to fit into. Genius!

Now on to the real story:
As I was walking away from the bucket man (for those keeping count, yes, after all of that I only had 10 buckets) I realized something sad and unsettling. My jacket pocket was really light, it used to be heavier… It used to have… my phone.

Two years without incident and now this with less than a month left at site. Super.

Well, I made the appropriate phone calls to Peace Corps (yay! Other volunteer at the café!) and packed up my stuff to go back to San Marcos, sans telephonic device. Then something occurred to me…

I went to the café and borrowed volunteer #1’s phone and called my number.

“Helllo?” said a man.
“Hey, you have my phone.” I said.
Click.

Ok, perhaps the wrong approach.

Calling on Volunteer #2’s phone gave me an answering machine but soon after the guy called back. So I called him back again and he answered.

“Hello?”
“Hey… I just want my SIM card!”
“What?”
“You don’t need it, right? The SIM card? Could you just leave it at California Café? It’s on 28 de Julio.”
“What? I can’t hear you.”
“The SIM card, California Café, could you just drop it off there?”
“It's ok, just calm down and speak slower.”
“You can’t use the SIM card, can you just drop it off at Calfornia Café on 28 de Julio, do you know where 28 de Julio is?”
“Yes.”
“Ok, so?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“Um, you can? Ok, thank you. 28 de Julio, by Luzuriaga.”
“I’ll do it, don’t worry.”
“Ok, thanks!”
[That’s right, I just profusely thanked the guy who stole my phone.]



No, I didn't get my SIM card, and no I wasn't expecting it. But how many people get pick-pocketed, and then have a semi-polite conversation with the thief? Only in Peru….