It Smells Like Peru
We have only been in Huanchaco for 6 weeks but it already feels like a second home now. While it is a small town - everybody in this town is separated only by 2 degrees of separation, it is a tourist town and I am just another transient resident. It is humbling to know that though it has made such an enormous impact on me, I am just a part of the constant flux of gringos in and out with the season.
One of the things I will remember the most are the distinct smells.
We live on the beach and you can smell the salty ocean and constant stickiness on your skin. Walking towards the main street, you can smell the fresh baked bread on the corner bakery. At night, the streets smell of the chicken and fish on the barbeques in front of the restaurants. On the beach, the bonfires die and leave behind lumps of carbon and the campfire smell on your clothing. You can smell the fresh catch when fishermen gut the fish on the pier. The surfshops have a stagnant smell of damp wetsuits. The stairs leading up to the the kitchen smells like garlic when Elouisa is cooking.
On the drive to Ciudad, each segment of the drive has very distinct pockets of smells. We pass long stretches of landfills, the scent of stale trash and burning plastic bags. The fish farm smells of fish pellets and the sweet, tar scent of burnt sugarcane fields is very common with the slash-and-burn technique.
In Ciudad, you inhale so much dust that the inside of your nose is black by the end of the day. A film of fine sand coats your body. If you are unlucky, the wind will carry the scent from the latrines. They have livestock in their backyards and the scent of cow and chicken can be found along the roads. The food being prepared for lunch in Flor and Carla´s house always smells good in the afternoon.