At last, four days late, the airline delivers our luggage. It turns out that both backpacks had travelled across the ocean to Madrid and then back to Lima. We feel slightly cheated that our bags have been to Madrid while we have not. We and the hostel guests who have been sharing our concern all this time cheer their arrival, while Marco hurries off to buy limes: tonight we are celebrating with Pisco Sours.
Getting our luggage back is only one reason to celebrate, because Peru’s presidential election is also taking place that day. At almost the same moment our bags arrive, the preliminary results appear on television. The candidate who, after our research over the past few days, is also our favourite, leads by one per cent. This is a decisive moment for Peruvians, and they approach it far more emotionally than we northerners do. On television, we watch people gather in the streets, flags waving as everyone waits for the result together.
Later, at the bar on the hostel roof, we sip Pisco Sours that Marco has made to perfection. We talk a little about the election and about the differences and similarities between Peru, Latvia, and Italy. Italy is home to Marlena, who is now in her third week volunteering at the hostel through Workaway. We could not have wished for a lovelier final evening in Lima.
Looking back at our unexpected spell “stuck” in Lima, I realise it taught me a valuable lesson. As consumers, we assign too much value to the things around us that seem to make life more convenient, yet we have never experienced the freedom of simply not having them. In the morning, there is no need to decide what to wear because you put on the same thing as yesterday (though we did buy a few essentials). After a shower, there is no rummaging through a toiletries bag to apply product number one, two… six, seven. The hostel’s shampoo and soap, a tube of toothpaste, and fingers in place of a comb are quite enough. At some point, you even forget about the split nail that keeps catching on your hair and clothes, although it had seemed so maddening before (the girls will understand). The missing things bothered me on the first and second days; by the third and fourth, they no longer did. Staying at the hostel longer allowed us to make friends and exchange stories with travellers from Malaysia, Britain, Colombia, and Italy. Most importantly, we have felt at home on the other side of the world.
At 2:15 in the morning, the alarm goes off. We quickly pack our bags, say goodbye to Marco, and climb into a taxi bound for the bus station. From there, we board a bus that will carry us to our next destination over the following three and a half hours.