Went to that british pub last night with Grant. It was a good taste of back home. There was a guy playing acoustic by himself and he was pretty good. He started off by playing “Stuck in a moment” by U2. He sounded a lot like Bono actually. He also played a song by the Cure. I don’t know the title, Friday I’m in love maybe? I don’t know. He also played “No Rain” by Blind Melon. He was really good and I’m glad I went there. After that, Grant wanted to go back to the hotel so we parted ways for the night as I went out for a walk. I had a kid try to sell me some coke and he followed me to the street where my hotel was. It was was uncomfortable and I knew if I got caught I would be writing the rest of this journal from a Peruvian prison. Well, to make a long story short, just as I was heading to back to the hotel a police SUV came around the corner. He stopped me briefly, then decided to search the other kid. It was nerve racking even though I had nothing on me. I won’t even give any of those type the light of day anymore. Went to the airport and got my backpack. That’s a good load off my mind. I need to get out and take some pictures now as well as plan where to go next.
Man, I still remember how the lump in my throat felt seeing that SUV cruise around the corner. I had a weird gut instinct, like something was off. It almost felt like a sting but thankfully I didn’t fall for the bait. It was also very intimidating, the officer that stepped out was in camouflage and had a beret and looked to me as if he were in the army as opposed to law enforcement. When he stepped out, he held his hand up and yelled to me in spanish what I could only interpret as stop from his body language. I stopped and held my hands up and said ” No comprende” and pointed to the hotel saying “I’m just trying to go to my hotel.” He then waved his hand for me to go and then walked towards the kid and started to frisk him. He seemed a bit nervous and said to the officer ” No, that’s mi amigo, mi amigo!” while pointing to me. I replied with “No! not mi amigo, not mi amigo!” while I briskly walked away and into the safety of the hotel. I’m glad I remember these things, it’s really disappointing to me that I didn’t put all those details in at the time. This is why these afterthoughts are a good addition to this whole experience. The other thing I somehow fail to mention throughout the remainder of the journal was the fact that the very next day I crossed paths with that same asshole. He again tried to get me to buy coke and continued to call me amigo. He spoke broken english but enough so we could communicate. I simply told him I wasn’t going to because of the policia. He said “Oh policia, no problem, no problem.” I basically told him no and to leave me the fuck alone. One thing I realized during my trip is that there are many pushy people there and to avoid the hassle you simply have to be curt or just not make any eye contact. So I may have given a mild spoiler as in tomorrow’s entry there is no mention of how I bumped into that same kid the next day. I don’t know why I don’t mention it despite it being a memory that has always stuck in my mind. It’s pretty memorable when you are scared shitless thinking you could be part of a sting. I’m glad I listened to my gut instincts and declined the many pushes from the kid. He followed me all the way back to my hotel and I was very close to saying yes, but again, the gut instinct made me stand firm to no. I have no doubt had I said yes, I probably would’ve been in deep shit. There is potential for bribery there to get away with it but that’s not a guarantee. One of the best decisions I made on my trip was simply saying no that night because I have a firm belief that the kid may have been in cahoots with the police. My other thought is if he really even had any on him. He either bribed the cop if he had some on him or the cop just didn’t search him well enough. He did seem pretty nervous when the cop was starting to frisk him so I’m not really clear on what that whole situation was about. It felt to me like they were in bed with each other though so that’s the theory I will stick to. Another thought I reflect on is how the pub I had gone to had given me a taste of home. The reason being is there was a british pub back home that was one of my favorite bars named the Coat of Arms. It’s sad to say that pub is no longer around but I had many great times at that bar especially back at the time when all these events took place. That was the correlation of how it made me think of home. It gave me some comfort and familiarity going to that bar. It was something that helped to make myself feel at home in a place far from it.
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