It´s a taxi...it´s a bus...no, it´s a collectivo!

There are numerous ways to navigate this fair city. The cabs are very cheap. If you don´t stand out like a glaring non-Spanish-speaking American (like myself), they are said to be even cheaper. Every time you hail one, it is a mixed bag, after a fair bit of bargaining, as to what you are going to get. We have had a rather tame driver, an absolutely no-holds-barred, white-knuckle inducing, I-am-the-only-driver-that-counts-so-you-better-move driver, and everything in between. Yesterday we had the pleasure of an all new mode of travel here in Lima. It is called a collectivo, and I am not sure what I can equate it to in the US other than something I may have seen in the middle of three rings courtesy of the Ringling Brothers. It is a tiny van that looks somewhat like a toaster on wheels, and the name of the game is this...they drive up and down the main avenues, packed to the gills with about 12 more passengers than US traffic laws (and the laws of physics) would allow, providing rapid, straight-line transportation. There is an accomplice to the driver, and their job is to hang out of the sliding door shouting the termination point (I think) and keep an eye out for prospective passengers. They do not adhere to the location of bus stops (or traffic laws, for that matter), and if you are ready and willing to sit on a stranger´s lap with your arm in the next person´s face and your head pressed against the glass and you have the Peruvian currency´s equivalence of about 15 US cents, you are a prime candidate to be a passenger on this ride of a lifetime.
All I can say is that I have never been so glad that an English-speaking local took pity on us when she asked, as we had our arms in the air with the Black and Decker toaster van, set to dark, approaching rapidly, "You have never ridden one of these before?!" The look of shock and sheer terror on her face when we affirmed "No" was absolutely priceless. She asked where we were going and volunteered to get us there. Fortunately for us, the only available seats were all the way in the back (only about 3 feet from the door) over what seemed to be about 37 people. We proudly leapt in, handed over the fare, snapped a few photos, and before we knew it, we had arrived at our destination about 15 blocks from when we started. It was amazing, irreplaceable, and something that everyone should do. Could we have walked by the time we finally flagged one down with enough room in it? Yeah, we could have. Would we have sweat less on foot that we did on the quality vinyl seats pressed closer together with perfect strangers than most are when having sex? Without question. But it was a glorious cultural rite of passage that everyone should be a part of. Long live the collectivo!!!

Coming up next time...an ethereal experience of ceviche...