Let's Talk About Nice People

It was a tough decision to bring my skateboard on this little trip.  Out in the dog-eat-dog world of Latin America, an extra 10 pounds could be the difference between a leisurely stroll through the airport and a 100 dollar excess baggage fee, forcing you to wear 10 pounds of sweaters onto the airplane.  You might end up looking like a grown-up version of this:

Dog-eat-dog world:

That baby picture is going to be making many appearances on this blog.  Dogs and babies are probably my most oft-photographed objects (no babies are not objects).  Dogs,  yes.
So at long last I decided to bring the skateboard.  For the first week of Peru, it didn't leave my bag.  But when my traveling companions vacated the country, I had a couple days on my own.  I had seen a tiny little skateshop by the camera repair shop where I had jedi mind tricked the repair-guys into giving me a card reader for 10 soles.  Or maybe they tricked me into paying 10 soles. 
At the shop I met Johnathan:

He owns the shop and his friends call him "Join".  As I was trying to determine what our friend status was, he was closing down the shop to take a lunch break and show me around Cusco.  Turns out there were 3 skateparks in the area, mindblowing considering the inhospitable (for a skateboard), rocky streets that seemed to stretch in every direction. 

One park was near his house, and he dropped me off there with a handdrawn map, his phone number and plans to meet up the next day.  He spoke english whilst I spoke spanish.  Turns out he's the only sponsored skateboarder in Cusco (Lost skateboards).
When I returned to the shop the next day, Join told me that he told the guys at the Peru skate association that my trucks were really old.  "They said I should...how do you say...regalar?"  Regalar is to give a gift.  He told me to pick out any trucks in the shop for free-ninety-nine. 

I was flabbergasted.  I said "no no no".  He said "si si si".   I picked out some Ventures that said they were 185 soles (65 american smackaroos).  Sometimes it's cool to be at a loss for words when someone displays extreme kindness.  In my case, on top of my dismay, I literally could find zero spanish words to articulate my thanks.  Finally I remembered "amable", and told Join that his regalo was "muy muy muy amable".  The rest of the day, we met up with his friends, John and Guillermo, skated, and met back up at night for drinks and wandering. 
This is us at the beginning of the day:

Note the body language.  I haven't yet been accepted into the crew.  I haven't killed someone to gain Crip gang membership.  I haven't paid my frat fees.  Etc etc.
By the end of the night, and after much Te Macho (hot tea with pisco, a tequila type alcohol) we were all the best of friends.  If there were 4 Blues Brothers that would be us.  If Jermaine weren't in the Jackson 5, that would be us.

A reggae club, a bottle of inkaria, a 15 year old kid that ran a grilled sandwich stand with his mom all night and was obliged to give the local skate celebrities discounted food and finally a walk back to my hostel marked the end of the night.  We said our goodbyes, knew we'd correspond on the facebook, and i went to sleep for 3 hours before i got up at 6 for my flight.

A couple of notes from the days:
1.  These guys, as I have seen over and over again, made it their business to show me around and make sure I took as much from Cusco as I could.  The same thing happened yesterday, here in Mexico City.  I ran into a skateboarder, Jordano, asked where to skate, and he took me all around, for a good 3 hours.  As we headed back home, I asked how old he was.  "22.  Actually today's my birthday!"  Again, dumbfounded.  To think he would take the time to give a tour to this random American, on a day that belongs to him and him only, is amazing.  On my birthday I'm too concerned with eating Chipotle at every meal to pay mind to anybody else.  Truly a relaxed lifestyle out here.

2.  The way all these guys chill, skate, drink, look, etc, I would have thought they were 18, and I say that with the utmost respect, as I have always looked like a kid.  I was surprised to hear that all my Peruvian friends were 24 or 25, still skate rats at heart.

3.  When asked what your drink order is in the bar, when in doubt, just say the name of the bar.  Te Macho is a bar.  Inkaria (a blend of 20 fermented plants) is also a bar.  I don't know what the reggae club was called, but I'll assume it's name was "Ganja".  Or "House Whiskey".