Finally - Cebiche!

The morning was spent visiting the two universities nearby - San Marcos and Catolica - finding out about Spanish courses. The ladies in both places were very helpful, and it doesn´t look like it will be too difficult. The only problem is whether there will be enough foreigners to fill a group. I might attend some lectures in the San Marcos Political Sciences department, too, so as not to become completely "de-academised". The catholic university looked much prettier and the students ever so slightly more well dressed and well behaved - no wonder, it is a private university. Michael was trying to describe to me how they even talk with a different accent to that of the students 100 m down the road.
At any rate, I do not want to know how much they spend on irrigation in that place, but the result is beautiful. We found most of the plants we´ve now got on our balcony (tex. lejongap och pelargonior), but in overwhelming number and colours. I even saw my friend from Australia; the, here, native Jacaranda tree. Outside the university Michael obligingly bought World AIDS Day stickers for us both and was praised by the woman selling them.
For lunch we went to La Punta, which is the small peninsulan district of Lima past Callao where IMARPE (Michael´s workplace) is located. It is a small district with strong Italian influence. It´s also the site of the last combat between the Peruvians and the Spanish, to which a huge fort bears witness. La Punta is filled with nice, low houses in bright colours like turquoise, magenta and orange, offset by great bushes of bougainvillea. To get to our restaurant of choice, we had to walk past all the competitor cevicherias, with women standing outside trying to convince passers-by to enter. I got called various names, like muñeca (baby doll) and bonita, neither of which convinced me. The place where we finally sat down was pleasantly free of "door advertisers", and had pristine white table cloths on top of dark blue ones, simple wooden chairs and tables and posters of the Beatles, Elvis, James Dean and Marilyn Monroe pn the white walls. The proprietor was a huge gentleman sat behind the bar overseeing the establishment while a slightly more agile man waited on the 20 or so tables. through a hatch in the wall you could catch a glance of the two women who were busy preparing fish and shellfish in the kitchen.
We had cooked cold mussles covered in chopped red onion and lime for starters, and a plate with ceviche, sweet potatoe and a type of white corn. The ceviche was raw cubes of Marlin (swordfish) in a delicious lime, chili and coriander marinade. To drink with that: Peruvian beer, of course. Less obvious is the beer´s name: Pilsen. I also got to taste a non-alcoholic drink made from boiled black/deep purple corn with added sugar. Also quite nice.
After lunch Michael sadly had to go earn his living, and I made my first trip alone on one of the mini buses (nicknamed killer buses) which are actually not as bad as the name might suggest. They cost 1 sol for trips even more than 45 minutes long. You have to put up with all kinds of beggars and salesmen getting on and giving a speach about why they deserve to relieve you of some of your fortune.
Now I should go home and decide what we´re having for dinner, and then read through some of the university information.