When life gets slow, real slow.
You know that thing in the movies where somebody sees something about to happen like an accident or something and everything slows down. It`s a weird but kind of nice feeling. It happened today as I relised I had just ended up in probably the most dangerous area in the whole of the 8 million city of Lima.
Play it cool dude, play it cool and take the next left back to the main Av
Avoiding both the strangly big, crazy gang of street dogs, (street dogs are usually wasted) and a grand tour of the ghetto. I was trying to find the beautiful coastal road that cruises along the beaches, but instead I foun a grey sky, fog almost reacable, a cool wt breeze and huge areas full of garbage dumps and vultures. I ride on, a few blocks over well unused train tracks, imagining the life that once was here, the hustle and bustle, now not a soul in sight apart from a few kids looking through the rubbish.
You know those areas that have their own laws, where the police just ignore and anyone who doesnt live there, simply doesnt go there. I`m not talking about the rough areas, where people are literally in teh gutter on every other block, but there is still movement. No, that is just a rough poor area, I`m cool with those, I`m talking super dodgy.
I turn a corner and see two men fighting, one of them shouting, you wanna kill me eh!?
Yep, life is real slow right now
a sensory overload
a surge of adrenaline
eyes meet with a half naked woman on the street, the dont ask, they dont judge, the emotive heart doesnt reach there anymore. A shout of anger vibrates of the concrete and tin and out into the street. A familiar smell fills the air, ganja, the smell of relaxation only makes me more tense. corners hugged by groups of men, some jovial, some silent, all eyes on me. I look over but not for too long, somewhere inbetween a scan and a stare, I release a short whistle of aknowledgement, its teh only thing that feels right. In South America it always feels right. The whistle is the musical note of the street, sung in different pitches and notes, recognised and loved by all. A man shouts out Jamaica, I throw over a nod and a smile, smiles are in short supply on this block. A man steps into the street he gestures me to stop whilst calling out to people inside a house, I give him a whistle and keep it moving. Another corner, another woman, more shouts and looks of incredulity and then life suddenly speeds up again, cars, people walking. The flow of movement returns to predictability, as does my heart beat.
Tags: bustle - city of lima - coastal road - crazy gang - cycling the ghetto - dangerous area - dodgy - fog - garbage dumps - ghetto - grey sky - gutter - lima dangerous - naked woman - nice feeling - relaxation - rough areas - rough areas of south america - rubbish - sensory overload - shout - street dogs - whistle