Familiar Faces

Ten Buses doubled parked and a human scramble to make the next bus transfer

Familiar Faces

 Cactus Apples Anyone!

A few of the familiar faces and scenes we see each day always have a smile. This lady and her little girl are on the street by 7:10am when we arrive near the archives.  We have sort of gotten to know her and she looks forward to us coming. I give her my extra pocket change.  I think it must be a hard life working for pennies selling Cactus Apples. Every corner is packed with street vendors and you can get just about whatever you want.  Food wise or other wise.  Just to the right of this lady and her child is a doorway with sleeping people.  There are there every morning. 

Kris has been great. There are not many frills in Lima. TP is sold at every corner, because there is none in bathrooms.  Last week a brother in the Area Office ask me how Sister Bloomer was doing.  I said, "fine." His reply was, "I could tell she was a strong woman and could adjust to anything." She has adjusted and has a smile on her face 90% of the time. When something out of the ordinary happens she smiles ever more. 


As you can see from the picture below we work in less than stellar conditions. We work in the basement 20 feet underground. The gantry ways remind me of pictures I have see of Alchatraz, (The Rock). The only persioners here are millions of names in books waiting to get out. There are bared doors, concrete walls 10'' thick and no air conditioning.  It is hot and humid in our dungeon and we need to wear protective masks. Kris now takes all this in stride.    

The buses are still interesting and exciting. Asbestos lingers in the air from over heated bus brakes and to ride in a bus with shock absorbers is a rare treat.  If you are lucky enough to get a seat most of the older buses have worn out seat cushions with springs poking out.  The newer buses have plastic seats.  We are often packed in like sardines and the Cobradoro is yelling to get tighter.  With standing room only, I am often standing in an open doorway with the Cobradoro's hanging out in front of me.  His head and body are out side the bus and he is yelling out the next few stops. Kris and I both decided she needed two hands free to inside the bus.  Before she fell in the lap of a surprised passenger, she carried a Book of Mormon. A bus will be in the number one land and abruptly swerve through two lanes of traffic to the curb.  This is all done going from 35mph to a dead stop in five seconds.  Since Kris is required to hang on with both hands, I got her a backpack. She carries our food, water bottles, TP, and other items to get us through the day. Just kidding; I carry the backpack. I watch her like a hawk and never let her out of my sight.  In reality Kris has gotten a little to brave for me.   

Last night we got an e-mail from a senior missionary couple telling everyone how unsafe a particular street corner was. The intersection described is where we make our bus transfer every morning and night. Things are just like LA. The bad guys pick on the weak and old. When I see them giving us a second look. I make sure they see my Missionary Badge.


Yesterday, while coming home the bus hit a chuck hole and the transmission or drive shaft fell to the street.  I was standing in the doorway right behind the Cobradoro and watched him look under the bus. I could tell my his expression that this bus was not moving.  I grabbed Kris and stepped off the bus.  We were the first off. Others were just waiting to see if the Cobradoro could get things moving again.  It didn't happen. We walked two blocks and when I looked back passengers were still waiting to see if things would improve. We walked the final 400 years home.  Not sure what happen to the other passengers. But, buses come along every three to five minutes. There are no bus tokens or transfers passes and when you get off your ride is over.  Pull out your money and pay again.