growing lima
Lima is a city of 8.5 million people and growing. High rises are replacing historic single-family homes one by one, rapidly changing the skyline. In the more affluent neighborhoods its inhabitants convert the arid desert into a lush looking place by planting grass that needs precious water to grow. While these lucky Limeños have water to keep their yards green, close to 1 million people in the city don’t have running water. And it gets worse. A German journalist has predicted that Lima will be the first major city to run out of water. Let’s find some solutions, Lima.
entrepreneurs say peru’s future is bright
Four entrepreneurs from a list of Peru’s “Great Places to Work 2011″ see great opportunities in Peru for 2012. (So do I!) Oscar and I photographed them for Somos magazine last month.
Juan Stoessel from Casa Andina | Abraham Zavala from Corporación Radial del Perú
Jaime García from IBM | Javier Calvo Perez Badiola from J&V Resguardo
carnal
A few photos from a mouth-watering steakhouse in Miraflores called Carnal. In a country known for its chicken much more than its beef, restaurants like this are welcomed!
mafia stiletto – take two
Ale Molina co-directs a group called Mafia Stiletto in Lima. In addition to teaching Sexy Stiletto classes, the group of professional dancers perform around the metro area. After photographing the class I met the group for a photo shoot at one of the gyms they rehearse in. Talk about different lighting than the first shoot! Same topic, a little more make up, mostly the same girls, a different location, one flash and the product is so very different. I thought it would be interesting to share both shoots. There is certainly more than one way to skin a cat!
mafia stiletto – take one
I recently photographed a group of Lima ladies who form the Mafia Stiletto. Not only do they dance, they get jiggy with it wearing heels higher than I can walk in. I went to check out one of the classes they teach, called Sexy Stiletto, for Somos a few weeks ago and made these images. (The story published last Saturday in the magazine.) Ale Molina – who is more of a hip hop dancer than a stiletto strutter – teaches the class to dozens of women every Tuesday and Thursday nights in La Molina. Some of the beginners arrive with shorter heels and cowboy boots but within a few weeks they graduate to a higher and thinner heel. Molina says it’s about more than dancing, it’s also about gaining confidence in being a woman.
salto del fraile
Fernando Jesús Canchari Vasquez has been jumping off the same cliff in Chorrillos for 26 years. It’s how he makes his living. Several times a day, when the water is high enough, he dons a brown or white monk’s robe and plunges into the sea below. Over the years others have come out to copycat the jump in similar robes, but Canchari says he has the best form. In his 40s, his feet stay together until the second his body hits the water.
huaca pucllana
A gorgeous afternoon with some ancient ruins, a freshly shaved llama, a trilingual tour guide (English, Japanese, Spanish) and visiting students from Medlife.
grimanesa’s anticuchos
I’ve been wanting to try Grimanesa’s anticuchos for more than a year. She used to sell them from a street corner in Miraflores and is known to make the best anticucho in Peru. When I went to Peru’s famous food fair the wait for a palito was a little more than an hour. She’s become a celebrity in Peru, and Lays even sells an anticucho flavored potato chip using her secret recipe. Her smiling face is printed on the bag.
Anticucho? What’s that and why is it so good? It’s Quechua for “cut stew meat”. It looks and tastes a lot like a kebab. The meat is beef heart – very tender and soaks up the seasoning.
About two months ago Grimanesa opened a hip little restaurant (Ignacio Merino 466, Miraflores). The menu is simple. You enter and order two palitos or three. Each comes with three chunks of meat. You can also get an order of choclo – giant corn on the cob but without the sweet flavor – and a soda. The anticuchos are served with potatoes and, if you are feeling spicy, a side of ají . You pay, get a number and go sit (or stand, depending on your luck) in a bar-like area. When your number pops up on what looks like a junior varsity scoreboard, your palitos are ready. For me, they were worth the year’s wait.
