Less than 2 weeks after the closure of Pizza Street, great change is already upon us. Miraflores continues down a path of evolution, led by Lima’s latest (and Miraflores’ former) mayor: Jorge Muñoz.

Welcome to the New Miraflores

Beloved by the Miraflorinos, Muñoz was elected as mayor of Lima with about 36% of the popular vote. Unlike presidential elections, a municipal election doesn’t require a runoff. Although Muñoz has yet to launch any projects in Lima, not spending a cent in his first month in action, he seems to have enforcement as a top priority.

Muñoz ran a somewhat controversial campaign called “Limaflores.” Ads asked Limeños if they’d like to live in Limaflores. The implication, of course, is that Miraflores is simply better, and wouldn’t it be great if the whole city was like Miraflores? Naturally, that suggestion ruffled some feathers.

Which brings me to the point of this post: What kind of city do you want to live in?

Now Get Out of Here

Last Thursday I went out to Miraflores for a few brews and good company. I also wanted to swing by Pizza Street to see what, if anything, had happened since its closure. I sat around in Parque Kennedy while waiting for some friends to arrive, only to be swiftly removed by Serenazgo at ten to 11. Blue windbreakers shouted around the park, and actively tapped people to get up and out. I figured that was as good a time as any to cross Diagonal and take a gander at the Street.

Lo and behold, the illegal extensions to the buildings have already been completely removed. The street looks like a ghost town. A shell of its former self. It doubled in width with that one move. Since most of the businesses’ signage was on those extensions, you probably won’t even recognize this one on the right.

That was the corner where Rustica once stood. Rustica and its quality wait staff always served as a sort of marker, the welcoming party for Pizza Street. All gone.

Luis Molina, the new mayor of Miraflores, maintained a good relationship with Muñoz and has vowed to carry on the work that his predecessor started. He’s also claimed he’ll be installing more security cameras around the district and creating commissions against crime and corruption. The closure was his move.

Without the Street, I moseyed over to Murphy’s for a Guinness. About 10 minutes before 1 AM rolled around, things got interesting. A waiter poured my beer into a plastic cup, which I found odd. Every dish, glass, and piece of cutlery was taken inside. Customers inside were kicked out with a swiftness. The metal grates came rattling down.

With just three minutes to the hour, a swarm of blue jackets stormed the street. Four Miraflores authorities actually barked at us to leave. The waiters hushed commands to the guests who were lingering. They were clearly nervous. I pounded the rest of that Guinness out of my plastic cup and left.

Once we walked out to Diagonal, it was apparent that the entire district was closed for the night. Teams of Serenazgo had already closed every other joint in town. It was 1 AM, in Miraflores, on Jueves de Patas, and there was absolutely nowhere to go and nothing to do.

That’s not the city I want to live in. I liked Lima when you could go out at any hour, stumble into anywhere, and stay after-hours. Sometimes you’d meet a bar owner and stick around for some late beers. Or maybe you’d just keep on grinding the night away until 4 AM. Now I’m being ushered around by Serenazgo, unable to sit still for more than a couple of hours.

I understand the need for some order in Peru. Complete lawlessness leads to problems. But this crackdown seems to be misguided. Are there not more pressing issues than people drinking past 1 AM? If this is the model for the rest of the city, I’m not on board.

Give me Limaporres, not Limaflores.