Last Wednesday I went to the Damien Marley concert in Lima with about 4000 other reggae fans. I went with Omar, the hairy Venezuelan who was just as eager as me to see the son of such a famous musician and to listen to his well-known jams, his most famous being 'Welcome to Jamrock.' We hadn't purchased tickets ahead of time as the cheapest tickets were 110 Soles and we hoped to find one on the street, having it checked by staff first to ensure it's legitimacy. We arrived at the hotel where Damien was scheduled to perform around 7:45 and shortly after arriving I ran into Kristofer, one of the dreadlocked-hippies I spent 6.5 hours with just the day before bonding over jewelry, music, and Peruvian culture! Kristofer brought his handicrafts with him in an across the shoulder handmade bag hoping to sell rasta-colored hand made bracelets to the fans waiting patiently in line to enter the hotel where the concert was taking place. We kindly asked Kristofer to inquire about the prices of tickets on the streets because a scalper would easily and gladly mark up his price if he's asked by a gringa or a Venezuelan for tickets. It's interesting that no matter where I was with Omar; the taxi, buying a sandwich or asking a question, the local Peruvian could pick up on Omar's accent and immediately tell that he is 'not from around here.' The scalpers were asking for 125 Soles for each ticket so we decided to wait until the concert was supposed to start at 8pm for the prices to go down. We didn't even know who the opening act was so we didn't mind getting in by 9. Well just like Jewish time, there is such a thing called Peruvian time. If a Peruvian is throwing a party and wants it to start at 10pm. He'll tell his friends to come at 8pm so his party starts when he wants it to. So essentially, the music didn't start until 9:30pm. We bought tickets for 110 Soles each (about $41) and entered the banquet hall at 10:30. Omar and I took turns buying beers from the staff walking around with trays of cold beer and danced our butts off to the rasta music coming from the stage of dreadlocks (Damien's are down to the back of his shins)and waving Jamaican flags. As I watched over the audience towards the stage, I could see puffs of smoke lifting from the crowd every 2 seconds or so. Overall the concert was terrific, I knew most of the songs, and Damien even performed a song originally written by his father, Bob Marley. I am thrilled that I went!
Quick update on Blondie: He came into the bar the other night wasted with his friends. He walked right up to me, gave me a kiss hello on the cheek (the customary greeting with someone in Peru) and was super friendly and chatty the whole night. Obviously he was loosey goosey and super friendly as a result of the alcohol, but it was a nice change.
Lastly, the Dutch owner of the kitchen, Mark is always grumpy. He is usually in a bad mood and it's rare to catch a smile on his face. I, on the other hand am the complete opposite. I am known as the 'chica fantastica' here because when people ask me how I am, I respond with fantastic. Why not fantastic? Life is too short to be anything other than a positive adjective! Mark got a little tipsy a few nights ago and the effects of the truth serum kicked in. Mark told me that when I first began working here over 2 months ago, he thought I was too happy and friendly and that he thought he would get sick of me after two weeks. He then proceeded to tell me that he couldn't find one thing about me that he didn't like- but that that bothers him! It's such a shame to be so negative but I suppose I'll take the back-handed compliment.
Today is my day off. I was planning on checking out a yoga studio about 8 blocks away because their hours of operation are only 4-8pm but Peru is playing Ecuador in futbol today so places are going to be shut down. This makes things difficult for me as I work during the only open hours of this studio! I'm sure I'll figure it out! Anywho- the futbol match is starting so I better go cheer on my team! Adios!
