Pizza Street’s closure came to me as a complete surprise. I’d been so preoccupied with other things the previous week that I hadn’t even bothered to glance at Peruvian news, not even once. It wasn’t until I was heading to a bar just past the street that I saw the serenazgo in formation. A phalanx that would have made Gerard Butler proud.
As stated in the original post, Pizza Street was shut down due to a “covert operation” that “uncovered” the wide array of illegal behavior that the street was known for. Why the municipal government acts like it just busted a case bigger than the Odebrecht scandal is beyond me. Pizza Street was always known to be a haven for drugs, prostitution, and general mischief. It’s one of the things that drew me there.
But I think the Street deserves better. It wasn’t just narcotics and ladies of the night. It was a place where all sorts of people gathered. Unlike some posh nightclub in Chacarilla where there’s practically a whites-only policy, or a bar up in the conos that’s anything but, Pizza Street truly was where Peru blended. Naturally, it drew a lot of foreigners since every guidebook whispers of its wild side. Many of my fondest memories in Peru either began or ended on that tiny brick strip.
Probably every Peruvian will remember where they were when Peru made it to the World Cup this year. I was on Pizza Street, cheering my brains out with friends, in that same diverse crowd as always. The whole of Parque Kennedy was packed shoulder to shoulder. So was the Street. Few places inspire such passion as Pizza Street did. Perhaps it’s the product of population density or the constant bass thump that sets your heartbeat. I hugged a hundred strangers that night. Where else will that happen?
Or like when a friend and I managed to pick up two girls from Ica. That was fun. That’s the type of thing that doesn’t happen in other parts of Lima. I also picked up a girl that stole one of my watches. Can’t take the good without the bad. That’s one of the things I love about Peru, that constant give and take. Pizza Street was that duality in 200 meters. Good times, bad times. A great poker night with friends, followed by being threatened with bear spray.
Miraflores announced that the shutdown will last 2 months while they give the street a “facelift”. Whether that means it’ll change its seedy ways is yet to be seen. I suspect it will, because Miraflores is doing everything in its power to become as first world as possible. And while I’m all for reducing violent crime and robbery, something that did happen around those parts as drunken fools stumbled home, I can’t help but feel like Peru just lost a piece of its soul. I feel like I’ve lost a piece of mine.
I shudder at the thought of not being able to have another poker game at Los Incas. Wouldn’t surprise me now if they said it was illicit gambling. What’ll happen when I mosey down the Street with a beer in hand? I’ve already been told I couldn’t sit on a bench and have one in Miraflores. And where am I going to get overpriced drugs in a pinch? That’s actually a joke, mostly. I think I’ve made no more than three purchases of “products” on Pizza Street. Of course I’ve been offered infinity times.
When it comes to the alleged prostitution, yes, I have been propositioned several times there. But I’ve met far more honest women than I have prostitutes. And this is why I’m so frustrated by the closure. The vast, vast majority of people do NOT go to Pizza Street for hookers and blow. Anyone who does is dumb, because you’re getting ripped off. Still, I don’t mind the fact that those things are out there. You can choose whether or not to partake. And it’s fun to watch the girls hobble in their hilariously-high heels.
You can bet I’ll be back. If only to see what they’ve done to my beloved boulevard. Maybe nothing will change and life will go on as it always has. But you can’t throw a stone in a pond without creating some ripples. Hopefully they weren’t tidal waves.
