*** A Peruvian Tale from the Twilight Zone ***

Introduction

Do you ever have those moments when you feel like you’re living in the Twilight Zone? Do you experience some things that are so bizarre that you actually stop, look around, and see if anyone else saw what just happened to you? Most likely you have, but if you haven’t, just think of the last time you were in a retirement home – ie: people are waiting in line for dinner at 3:30pm; some of the residents carry around baby dolls at all times; and one time my father, Lucia and I actually witnessed an attempted escape by an old lady in a wheel chair. As the emergency alarm was blasting, she was wheeling her way slowly out the door before an employee ran out and ‘caught’ her.

Well, for the last six months, I’ve been having those types of weird moments - Many bizarre events have taken place in and around my apartment here in Lima. I have documented the events and have put all the pieces together into this one, long, story. Everything that you are about to read really happened.

February 20th, 2009 – The Search Continues

It was early Sunday morning and I just finished eating breakfast with Lucia. I was still living with Lucia’s family at the time and I was sitting on a barstool in Lucia’s kitchen looking through the apartment listings for the 3rd weekend in a row. Up to that point my search for an apartment had been unsuccessful for a couple of reasons – I didn’t earn any money yet, and all decent apartments were out of my price range. This problem isn’t anything new. It happens to many people everyday, but still, it was slightly annoying that I had gone three weeks without finding anything.

That morning there was one apartment listing that seemed like a pretty good deal. The location was in walking distance to my work and wasn’t out of my price range. Lucia called the owner, Carlos, to ask for the details and for a viewing. Carlos agreed to meet that afternoon. I had a slight nervous feeling in my stomach. I knew, even before looking at the apartment, that this was the one I wanted. I think my urgency was due to a combination of living with my girlfriend’s family for so long and my desire to be an adult again… to live on my own like I was used to living before I came to Peru. I was afraid to admit that I was desperate, which, in retrospect heavily influenced my decision-making abilities.

Carlos happily greeted us on the third floor, which was where he lived, and lumbered his way up the two flights of stairs to the fifth floor. I could tell he had some trouble getting around. He wore a knee brace and breathed very heavily as if he was constantly trying to catch his breath. He was a tall, round man, mid-60’s, with the face of a Peruvian Jon Voight, the eyebrows of the Great Horned Owl, and a uni-brow that could rival Bert’s from Sesame Street. He was likeable though. He is the father of five children, and the grandfather of three grandchildren.

He showed us around and I wasn’t necessarily impressed, but I was very happy with the location. The apartment was extremely clean, huge, and nothing that I’d ever seen before. It was a penthouse of sorts, but Peruvian style… it was on the top floor and some parts were very impressive with great views and neat styling, while other parts were “uh, don’t go in there, it will scare you away”. I thought about it, weighed my options, and then made the decision to sign the lease.

March 15th, 2009 – Sign here, here, and here.

With the help of Lucia and her dad, Ricardo, I traveled to the Notary to meet Carlos to sign the lease. He showed up about 25 minutes late, which, if we’re talking about “Peruvian time” he was right on time. The agreement seemed fine and Lucia’s father looked over all the details to make sure I wasn’t agreeing to give up one of my kidneys. He gave it the international sign for ‘looks good’ with a confident thumbs up.

After signing the lease we waited about 15 minutes for it to be notarized and approved. I mention this otherwise mundane and unimportant time for a specific reason – Lucia’s dad and Carlos get to talking. Well, Carlos is doing most of the talking. I’m starting to feel more comfortable because I am seeing that Lucia’s dad, someone that I think is looking out for my best interests, is getting to know my future landlord, someone that I don’t really know. It just makes me feel a little more comfortable with the whole situation. As we’re leaving the Notary after everything is finalized I make a point to thank Lucia and her dad for their support. They didn’t have to help me but they are always looking for ways to lend a hand.

That night I ate dinner at Lucia’s house without Lucia. I was only with Lucia’s dad because the rest of the family was out running errands. I didn’t mind eating with him, it happens all the time and I enjoy his company. We got to talking about my new apartment, and I asked him what he thought of Carlos. He said, “He seems nice, and the lease agreement looks fair. But, he is …” and he pauses for a few seconds, then he says something I will never forget, “… Brian, there’s something about Carlos that you should know - he is a Communist.”

Wait. What? I’m not really sure what to say except, “huh?”. Ricardo goes on to explain that when he and Carlos were talking in the Notary, Carlos was explaining all the details of the book he was currently writing. Back in 1920’s, a big political influence in Peru was a man named José Carlos Mariátegui. He was a self-proclaimed Marxist, Socialist, and eventual full-blown Communist. Politically speaking, he died at a fairly young age… in his mid thirties I believe, before he could really make a significant, long-term mark on Peru. Well, Carlos explained that he was writing a book that argued the point that Peru’s economic, social, and political potential could be reached by following the beliefs and teachings of this man. Not only that, but in the early 70’s, Carlos spent 7 years living in Russia. Now, I’m not saying that living in Russia is a bad thing; I’m just putting the pieces together as Ricardo was explaining them to me.

Okay, I was starting to get a little worried. Is Jon Voight a communist?

Sunday, April 12th, 2009 – A Thousand Apologies

I had just returned from a trip to Chile and it was getting late on Sunday night. I had school/work the next day – the first day back from a 4-day weekend. Chile was fun, but the bus ride was 20 hours and I was exhausted. I decided to make it an early night and I got into bed, turned the TV on and watched Friends in Spanish until I fell asleep around 9:30pm. At 9:45 I woke up to the sound of people (not a person, but multiple people) walking in my apartment outside of my bedroom door. Uh oh. I immediately woke up and my senses amplified as a rush of adrenaline flowed through my body. I was still in my boxers and slowly crept towards my door to listen for voices. Luckily, my bedroom door was locked so I was momentarily relieved to know that my immediate safety was still partly intact. As I listened to the voices talk I recognized one of the voices. More specifically, I recognized the heavy breathing! It was Carlos.

I opened the door and gave Carlos my best “WTF” look, which, in boxers is a lot easier to pull off. He turned around and said, “Oh, Brian! A thousand sorry’s Brian. I didn’t know you were here. I was putting a mattress from my apartment into your storage closet. “

“What? A mattress? Why?”

“Because I don’t have room for it in my apartment anymore so I thought I could put it in your closet since it has so much room.”

How was I supposed to react to that statement? I was so confused, first of all because it was late and I was translating Spanish in my head. And second, because no matter what language we were speaking that was one of the most unique and weird things I had ever heard. He went on to say that he’s been trying to get a hold of me without much luck so he just decided to come into my apartment. Before I could even soak in what was happening he and his two ‘helpers’ had put the mattress in the closet and were gone. I just stood in the doorway of my bedroom stunned.

Queue the twilight zone music.

As I was standing there I thought to myself - Was this a common practice among Peruvian landlords? Was it assumed that as a renter I was under the mercy of my apartment owner’s blatant disregard for my personal space? Was the mattress a sign of his Communist need to redistribute the mattress allotment among the people in the building? Was this building a metaphor for Hitler’s Germany? …for Kim Jong-il’s North Korea? What was the next step? – Nuclear weapons testing? Elderly Death Panels!? What did I get myself into?

April 2009 – May 2009: A Series of opened doors and mysterious footprints

Over the next few months some odd things were happening in my apartment.
- Occasionally the power would go out in the entire building for about 15 hours.
- Nearly every morning the humidity of the night would creep into my living room and make everything damp to the point of puddles forming on the floors and tables. And with all of the pollution and dust in Lima a black substance would form on the walls and floors making the apartment almost impossible to keep clean.
- Sometimes I would come home from work and notice that doors that were previously closed had mysteriously opened.
- One day I came home to find a ladder in my hallway. Yes, a ladder. I’m pretty sure I didn’t have a ladder in my apartment before I left. Maybe Carlos was distributing the ladders among the residents.
- Every once in a while I would see footprints. I was to the point of looking at Carlos’s shoes every time I saw him to see if the size and prints matched his shoes. They did and I was nervous.

May 5th, 2009: HELP!

I remember that it was a Tuesday afternoon when an interesting email popped into my inbox. I immediately saw that it was from Lucia and the title of the email was ‘April Rent’. Then, using Gmail I could see the first few words of the email before opening it – “HELP” in all caps.

The email was a message from Carlos directed to Lucia. Lucia forwarded it to me with only the word “HELP” in the email. He wrote these exact words: (translated for your English language convenience)

Beautiful Lucía-
Your letters, your photo and your possible presence in the building make me sigh of helplessness not to be 30 years old to try to charm you. I am consoled to know you’re youthful, happy, and loved by Brian.
Cordially,
-Carlos

Okay, take a deep breath. After reading this email I realized I was dealing with someone who was clearly living in a different world than mine. Immediately, I thought of all the times he had been in my apartment. Before reading this email, my initial theory was that he was just extraordinarily nosy and snooping around my place because he was fulfilling some kind of ‘Russian spy fantasy’. However, after reading this email I started to get to a new level of scared. What was I supposed to do to respond? I asked around to see if this was normal in Peru. I didn’t know. After having some people read the email and listen to my stories, the majority response I received was to “Get out!”

I decided to stay in the apartment because I would constantly convince myself to stay – the location was so perfect, the rent was good, as soon as the weather gets nicer it will be better. I didn’t keep anything valuable in the place, and Lucia didn’t come over anymore… or at least, she didn’t visit very often. The following month and a half was fairly calm. I hadn’t noticed anything different in the apartment, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t been in there.

Sometimes I would come home and the sliding glass door would be open. And on occasion some pigeons flew in and couldn’t figure out how to get out. Their little bird droppings were everywhere making a mess of everything. On one very memorable day I found a dead bird inside my living room after my door had mysteriously been left open. Unfortunately, the poor thing had a deadly crash with one of the windows and didn’t make it out alive. The email to Lucia, the birds, and the ‘break-ins’ were all signs. I was getting sign after sign – and for some reason, I wasn’t heeding them.

June 24th, 2009: A Simple Request

On June 24th the Swine Flu made its way to Santa Maria and we canceled classes for about a week. That week off I made a three-day trip to Huaraz in the Andes Mountains. However, I didn’t leave until Thursday so I had Monday through Wednesday to relax and do whatever I wanted.

I woke up around 8am on Monday morning and took my time to eat breakfast, and then I got in the shower to get ready for the day. When I was in the shower I heard something strange from outside my bathroom door. Really, any noise that’s heard while you’re taking a shower (while you live alone) is a little frightening. It sounded as if someone was in my apartment. Similar to my experience a couple months prior to this with the mattress, I was extremely nervous. If it has ever happened to you, then you know that it’s a horrible feeling.

So I got out as soon as I could and I heard my front door slam. As you can imagine, I had a feeling it was Carlos, so I ran outside the bathroom towards the front door. While still in my towel, I opened my front door to find Carlos walking down the steps with my natural gas container (the gas is used to heat my stove). He acknowledged me by saying, “Brian, I need to borrow this.” And continues to walk downstairs. No “excuse me Brian”, no “I’m sorry Brian”, no “Oh, Brian, I should have asked you to use this”… nothing. I asked him why he went into my apartment without asking. He doesn’t answer me and continues down to his apartment. That’s it… enough.

As soon as I got dressed and ready for the day I called him and left a message that his constant disregard for my privacy was unacceptable. I also wrote him an email – here are some of the highlights from the email…

“Imagine that your daughter is renting an apartment. She calls you to tell you that her landlord keeps coming in and out of her apartment, even when she is in the shower. Would you be concerned?”

“I don’t feel safe in my apartment. I come home to doors being open and things being moved around. I no longer keep anything important in my apartment – my laptop, camera, passport, contracts, etc. “

“Please, if you feel the need to enter my apartment for any reason you need to notify me. It is in our lease agreement that you do this.”

I waited a week before I received a response. Actually, during that week I saw Carlos several times around the building and he acted like I didn’t exist. Finally, when I received the response I was so nervous that he was going to say something nice… possibly even apologize.

Nope, no apology. He gave me a reason for each and every time he had visited my apartment. All of the reasons, of course, were “emergencies”. He ended the email by saying, “It is probably best that you find another place to live where you can feel more safe and calm.”

Okay, then that is what I’ll do. Carlos and I never spoke again, until one very awkward meeting.

August 16th – Let’s sit down and talk this out

Over the course of the next month I was not in my apartment very often. I slept there every night, but I would find every excuse to not be there during the day. I would go to Starbucks or other coffee shops for hours after work so I wouldn’t have to go there. I would go to Lucia’s house for dinner almost every night, only coming back to the apartment to sleep and change clothes. It was not going very well.

Through my contacts at work I found a new place to live starting in August. However, I decided that I would continue paying rent at the old apartment until my six month lease was up. The main reason for doing so was that I didn’t want Carlos to have any leverage when I moved out. This is where Lucia comes into the mix – if Carlos is the villain, then Lucia is the hero. She had reluctantly been involved in this mess. Once Carlos and I stopped communicating, she was the one who called Carlos’s wife and daughter to talk about me moving out. She organized several meetings with Carlos’s family to make sure that when I moved out there would be nothing wrong with the apartment. She organized a final meeting between Carlos and I to recover all of the unpaid bills and deposits.

(Side note: I have to tell you that when I first moved in I paid for three things – the rent, and two deposits. Also, the bills are sent to Carlos’ apartment, so I have to pay him utilities).

We met on August 16, 2009. Lucia and I were waiting in my living room for Carlos and his wife to meet us to go over the final numbers. Carlos and his wife were very nice that day. I was extremely surprised that they were so cordial. We walked around the apartment and agreed that it was in the same condition that it was when I first moved in, with exception to three dead plants, the cost of which would come out of the deposit. I signed a form agreeing that the apartment was in good shape and the only things needing to be fixed were the plants, which he said were dead… now that I think about it, that is another sign for me to get out… everything was dying!

Then, we sat down and they showed us what I owed to them – the last months’ rent and unpaid bills. I hadn’t paid the last couple months of bills because Carlos neglected to give me receipts for them. Also, I didn’t pay rent for the last month because Carlos was unpredictable… in the back of my mind I was afraid he would never give me the deposits back, so I didn’t pay the last month’s rent.

Lucia was my trusty translator and she was doing all of the talking during the meeting. We argued over the fact that the numbers for the bills were wrong, but Carlos didn’t have the receipts to back up his claims. Despite not having the receipts present, I agreed that those amounts were fine – in reality, I was tired of all of this and just wanted to get it over with. Then Lucia suggested that Carlos just take the amount that I owed for the rent and bills, and subtract that from my deposits… once it is subtracted then we will know how much he owes me. (After subtracting the bills and rent from my original deposits, I should receive around $250).

At that moment there is a short pause. Carlos sits back and says, “What deposit?” Lucia references the contract and says, “Look, right here. It says that before moving in we must pay one month’s rent, and two deposits. And here, Brian has the receipts for those deposits.” (Deposit for rent and deposit for the furniture).

No response from Carlos. His wife was texting on her phone… she was not even paying attention. Carlos was silent for the next minute – one of the most awkward minutes of my life. I guess he was thinking. Thinking about how he forgot that he received those deposits. Thinking that he was expecting to come into this meeting and receive one month of owed rent plus some unpaid bills. Maybe that’s why he was so cordial to me – you’re always nice when you know you’re getting money. But now, after talking it over with Lucia, he has just realized that he owes me money. This is something he did not expect.

After about a minute of silence and deep thought, possibly thinking about how much he hates my capitalistic number crunching, he says without emotion, “No. You owe me that money. That’s it.”

What? Lucia calmly responds to him by saying that the numbers are clear, they tell the whole story. She goes on to say, “You already signed the agreement saying that the apartment was in good shape. Now that we know that you agreed to this, reference the deposit clause in the contract – Brian is owed the deposits upon exiting the apartment.” Carlos was in shock at that point.

Lucia tries to explain again and again that this is what we agreed to. Carlos is not wavering… he is simply saying no. Finally, he gathers his paper work and tells us that we should consult a lawyer and get the money that ‘I owe him’. He and his wife walk back to their apartment and Lucia and I look at each other in amazement. What just happened?

August 18th, 2009 – Save the Friendship

Lucia’s mom knew a lawyer that was kind enough to listen to my situation and send Carlos a couple emails explaining to him the scenario, and possible outcomes. After a few days without a response from Carlos, Lucia called him to ask if he had read the emails. He said that he had read the emails and that he would not agree to pay me.

If you were me in this situation, what would you do? I was owed $250, which, to me is a lot of money. But I kept thinking about all of the trouble I would have to go through to get that money back – a lawyer, a mediator or judge, fees, fees, and more fees. I was stuck, and Carlos knew it. He knew that I wouldn’t risk paying all that money for a lawyer just to get $250 back.

After another week without a response I gave in. Lucia asked the lawyer to create an agreement saying that I would move out of the apartment without debts, and Carlos didn’t owe me anything. We sent it to Carlos’s email and waited for a response. He said okay, if we went to the notary and signed the agreement that he would sign it as well. So that is what I did. Carlos couldn’t meet me at the notary, so I went there with Lucia’s dad, Ricardo, and signed the termination agreement, then left the agreement there for Carlos to sign. Ricardo playfully reminds me of the last time he and I were in this notary together… yes, it was a funny moment… not a ‘haha’ funny moment, but the other kind. We left the notary in hopes that Carlos would come later to sign the agreement.

Uh oh, a new twist - Lucia called me that afternoon on my way home from work, saying that she talked to Carlos and he said that he changed his mind – he refuses to sign the agreement and he wants me to pay him the last month’s rent and the unpaid bills. I remember that phone conversation very well. I was in the car with my friend from work, Eddy. Eddy was listening to the conversation, and then once I hung up he asks, “What was that all about?” My only response was to tell him, “I’m living in the Twilight Zone.”

The following day I was going about my work like normal. I was trying not to think about yesterday and last weekend. I haven’t realized yet that all of this is really happening. I guess things could be worse, right? God, I hope not. I wasn’t really sure what to do… maybe have the lawyer send another threatening email? I didn’t know.

I checked my email early in the afternoon in hopes that there was some good news. I had an unopened message from Lucia with several exclamation marks and smiley faces. I guessed she had some good news – Carlos had called her and said that he changed his mind again… he agreed with the termination arrangement and that he wanted to “save the friendship”.

Wow, sounds great! Wait? What? What friendship?

Whatever, he signed the agreement that afternoon and that is all that mattered to me at that point. I took the keys back to his apartment as soon as I got off work. That was it. It was over, just like that.

Today – Is it really over?

I’m currently living in my new apartment, in a building and area that I trust, with a landlord and neighbor that I trust. Sometimes, however, I feel like this is the end to a scary movie. Just when you think it’s over, the villain wakes from the dead or appears out of nowhere to haunt you one last time… the scene ends and the credits begin right in the middle of the last evil attempt to kill someone … only then have the seeds been sewn for the sequel.

Especially in my case, I feel like Carlos was building up to a huge climax – like, he was saving his best for last; because sometimes I did feel like I was living in a scary movie. But he didn’t give me the huge climactic scene that I was expecting – the kind that merits a sequel. Instead, he gave me more twilight zone material – constantly shifting back and forth from his likeable Peruvian sensibility to his manipulative communist coldness. Very eerie and creepy; rather than horrific.

Despite the anti-climactic ending scene, I along with Lucia and her family, are just glad it’s all over. Actually, the other day I was back in Lucia’s house for dinner discussing Lucia’s last visit to Kansas City. She reminded me of the time we were visiting my Grandma and how we witnessed an old lady in the retirement home trying to escape in a wheelchair. I remember looking at my dad and just hysterically laughing at what we just witnessed. After the employee ran out and caught the old lady before she could get too far, he was pushing her back inside and looked up at us bystanders… he just gave us a shrug and a smile as if to say, “Just another day in the retirement home, get used to it.” That’s right my friend, just another day.