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Odds & Ends
Near and Yet so Far
By Jim Plunkett

While all the Peruvianos and gringo expats were sitting with baited breath waiting for the Garcia-Humala debate on Sunday eve prime time, I managed to escape on American Airlines to the good old U.S. of A. for a golf junket with "The Boys". As I write this, the sun is setting over the bay in Sarasota, Florida.

Only a few days ago, I was immersed in a culture I have known and enjoyed for over forty years, eating my tropical fuits including chirimoya, papaya, a large variety of mangos from the north, and delicious kiwis and plums imported from Chile.

Despite the boom in gourmet delights and eating out at Lima's hotspots, I have yet to walk into some of the best restaurants in town and have to worry about waiting for a table. Not only do I have a choice of where I want to sit, but a variety of exotic dishes prepared by professional chefs at reasonable prices.

Of course it isn't all peaches and cream. Aggressive traffic with thousands of Japan's old worn out taxis competing to see who can contaminate the city more, and street vendors and jugglers of all ages and sizes putting on 20 second shows at every intersection in town, looking for a handout to survive.

Politically, despite the fact neither you nor I have ever participated in local government decisions or really mattered to the ruling class, I have assimilated the excitement of the daily scandals and intrigues of our elected leaders to a point where I have to scan headlines hanging at all the newsstands and click through the local channels seeking the latest insight on who is going to be our next leader. Talk about soap operas. Our local politics is much more entertaining and is by no means fiction.

Last Saturday morning I got on a plane heading north and in only five hours I was in another world.....The United States. Despite the fact I was born and raised here, I feel as though I have been put in a capsule and rocketed by NASA on a space adventure to another planet.

A modern and spacious AVIS car gliding along a super highway took me in a matter of a few hours from Miami to Sarasota, a small city on the west coast of Florida. The only police I saw were a few modern patrol cars helping disabled vehicles occasionally, and not once was I cut off by an old white Japanese taxi or a crowded minibus blowing black smoke all over the road. When I got to my destination, the traffic lights and street corners were void of any women carrying someone else's rented baby, or acrobats doing flipflops for quarters and dimes.

My first gourmet experience was at a chic area on an island in a boutique area call St. Armand's Circle. To get there, you must cross a causeway bridge over a beautiful bay spotted with yachts and sailboats and fabulous sunsets. At the suggestion of our local host, professional senior golfer, Jim Albus, who first competed in the Peru Open many years ago, we ate at the Columbia Restaurant where we had to make a reservation in advance. It was worth it. Mexican and International dishes including paellas, lamb racks, stuffed Pompano with mashed artichoke and crab meat, and all served promptly and adeptly by a group of Latin waters and waitresses. Where were they from? Tarapoto, Callao, Trujillo, and even one lovely young lady who lived in San Isidro who married a "cheesehead" from Wisconsin and is now revalidating her license as a dentist.

Of course you find George W. and his Iraqi war on T.V. , and the local news featuring the unusual attack by alligators on three young women during the last two weeks, but no kidnappings and hold-ups at the local ATM machines. The local municipality has created a special board of advisors to include the local youth to help create better conditions for young people who share an important role in the community.

Needless to say, there are at least 40 golf courses in the area that contribute to a better environment. On our first day out, the course offered a wide variety of birds from seagulls to large herons and tiny lizards that didn't interfere in the slightest with our golf. There are private clubs whose members pay between $30,000 and $110,000 dollars to join, and $4,000 or more for annual dues. There are no caddies to carry your clubs around for $10 dollars a round like Lima, and at most courses, you are obliged to use electric golf carts, reducing your round to skill and scenery without much exercise.

I must say, it's all pretty tempting....new cars, orderly traffic, tropical climate, good food, great beaches, sunsets, golf and tennis, museums, entertainment, happy hours, and very little local politics to add to your stress factor. But, how I would survive without my chirimoya, pisco sours, spicy political scandals, maids, and caddies, and free entertainment at the red lights? That is something I would have to work out to even consider changing residence to this strange world called Sarasota, Florida. Who knows!

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