El Ultimo Dia en El Sol

Our last day at El Sol was a lot of fun. We still learned a lot and went through the normal routine of history and grammar. Actually, since it was a Friday we had our test which I thought was relatively easy considering it was all multiple choice. Our Professor, Andres, was in a very happy mood and let us put more time into speaking, which was our favorite, since we always had something to say. I asked him how, as Americans, we differed from his other students. He answered very modestly that we were a lot more “direct” and “straightforward” which I knew meant that we weren’t afraid to ask how to say inappropriate words in Spanish or tell him that we were falling asleep in class because the night before we had all gone out for so and so’s birthday and had a little too much to drink. Once the bell rang we said our goodbye, took a class photo (minus Brielle), and told him we’d see him that night for the party El Sol was throwing for us.

Since we had finished classes at FAP, the majority of the group had free time to roam around until the party. Most of our group ate at Pardo’s chicken while I decided to eat at La Vida Misma since they had a great lunch special for only the price of 6 soles. I met up with Karlayne, Rachel, and Tomas afterward at Metro to go to the optional museum tour that Monica had planned for us. To be honest, I really didn’t want to go on another tour of a gigantic museum but I was particularly interested in the terrorist exhibit the Museo de Nacion had on display. Tomas, too, was going for that exact reason.

We got to the museum and waited a few minutes outside for Monica to arrive. Tess came in a taxi by herself saying she had a change of heart and wanted to see a little of what the museum had to offer. When Monica and her mother arrived, we told her we only wanted to see the terrorist exhibit and didn’t want to go on a formal tour which she was fine with, considering the whole trip to the museum was optional, anyway.

Once we got to the 6^th floor, I pretty much ventured on my own. I’m the kind of person who loves learning about historical tragedies, not because I’m sadistic or anything but because I like to learn about forgotten or underrepresented struggles and injustices that a whole generation of people suffered through. I knew very little about the terrorism that plagued Peru in the 80’s before coming to that exhibit and after examining all those pictures and stories, I thought it to be a shame that so many people in the world will go on with their lives not knowing about these specific tragedies and inhumane cruelties.

The pictures, videos, and stories were so moving. I tried my best to capture the struggle and violence of that period by taking pictures of the pictures displayed but my camera would do it no justice, the same way those photographs did those people no justice. The period of terrorism that plagued Peru was stirred by people who believed in a “New Peru” and wanted a very socialist, Marxist kind of economy. The conflict between the government trying to stop terrorism and the terrorists trying to kill off the government really put innocent civilians on the receiving end of all the damage. I believe it was Keiko’s father who finally put an end to terrorism, although he killed and arrested so many innocent civilians in the process.

The final room to the exhibit was a big white room painted with phrases and quotations by people recalling the tragic period of terrorism. There was also a huge window that covered one wall, looking out into the city of Miraflores. Although we were all in different parts of the exhibit, we eventually met in that one room, all of us being incapable to crack a smile or even speak about how we were feeling. We sat in front of the huge window, trying to picture the random car bombs or house arrests that happened in those very streets below us in the 1980’s. Although the exhibit was very sad and brought us all into a solemn state of mind, visiting that museum and experiencing just a little of the people’s pain was probably my best memory in Lima. I loved that I got to learn a piece of history that I was so ignorant to earlier, and that I was able to see a culture of Peru that is very hidden and not talked about. I believe the people would rather not delve into those memories, the memories of their friends and family oppressed by a real war on terrorism. It was really interesting to hear that Monica’s mom, and even Monica, can recall how unsafe it was to go out into the street for fear of random explosives and violating state of emergency curfews. 

It was hard to break out of that solemn, heavy mood after the museum and go straight into our salsa dancing classes. Luckily, we had a little time in between to just walk around Miraflores and kind of think and talk about other things, things of lighter importance. When we got to the salsa class we noticed the huge imbalance on the ratio of guys to girls. Very quickly, Karlayne became my dance partner and we learned a few new moves here and there. We noticed that the guys we met at the club the other night were there and already dancing with Leslie and Alison. We met a few others from El Sol, too, as we danced and turned to the rhythm of salsa.

After the salsa class was our goodbye party thrown by El Sol. We expected a very light celebration, with certificates and perhaps a shot of pisco sour and dinner. As Vinny said, “things picked up quickly” and as the glasses of pisco kept coming out, we all loosened up and took over the dance floor. Although our Professors at El Sol were there and watching, it seemed that none of us had a censor on our dance moves nor on the phrase, “party hard.” Even our Professor, Andres, was out on the dance floor, salsa-ing and grinding (haha) with us. The concept, now that I think about it, is totally weird and strange but it was all in good fun. After awhile the administrators of El Sol had to cut us off the Pisco because we had to maintain some control for the dry law. We ended up having dinner and then dispersing, some us headed back home while others went back to the salsa discoteca from the other night. Since I was tired and well into the longest day of my life, I cabbed it home and tried, unsuccessfully, to pack and clean my room since the next day was our last day/night in Lima. Of course, I passed out after showering. I knew that although Saturday was considered a free day, we still had to meet at El Sol to get our certificates at 11:45am that morning.

CLASS PHOTO