I have a love hate relationship with Peru. Last Sunday, 36 hours after arriving in Lima, I woke up a nervous wreck and burst into tears. It took three tries to get out the words, "I just miss you guys," when I called my family on Skype.
Fast forward to last night's commute home and I was in love with Lima. On my hour long, rush hour commute I felt like I can't give up on Peru. Even amidst the horns, the traffic and the crazy drivers, I saw all the good things that I love. Peru feels like a odd fitting dress- I try and try to make it work, but something always feels off. However, I can't bring myself to get rid of it. I surely hope this is some kind of strange expat syndrome because all this "I love Peru- I can't stand Peru-I love Peru" is making me feel like a crazy person.
In the middle of that limbo, I went to the bank to deposit American dollars. The teller told me that I couldn't deposit one $20 bill because it had a small rip in it, then she handed it back to me. I was furious. It's just $20, so it's not really important, but on the basic principle I was mad. I brought that bill from the States so I know's it's legitimate, just a little worn. Old Meghan would just take it and smile. American Meghan would apologize for the mistake. But somehow in all this, a new Meghan has emerged and I looked at her and said,
"Well, I know it's real. I brought it from the States last week."
I stopped myself there but so badly wanted to ask, "Would you like to see my plane ticket?"
I walked to the supermarket, still fuming but also thinking about how much more hardcore I have become since living here. I won't let Peru walk all over me. There's a love/hate moment for you.
