neighbors & paper airplanes

A couple evenings ago we were studying at our kitchen table (David doing homework for his Spanish class; me preparing lessons for my English class -- more on these things later), trying our best to ignore the loud music penetrating our closed but poorly-sealed-and-certainly-not-insulated windows. David said the music had been that way for the last couple weeks while I was back in the States, playing loudly every night until 10:30 or 11:00. We stepped outside to our courtyard and stood listening for a while, and then we realized that the music was coming from right next door!

We contemplated going over and knocking on our neighbors' door to ask them to turn it down. Then we thought maybe it'd be better to ask the Watchiman to take a brief break from blowing his whistle to knock on their door and ask them to turn it down. Then we discussed waiting until the next day and asking the advice of Marlin, one of the office staff members who is our go-to girl for all manner of questions related to Peruvian culture.

We settled on the third option and resumed studying ... for about 40 seconds.

"...or I could make a paper airplane and write 'turn down your music' on it in Spanish and fly it over the courtyard wall into their open window."

ha ha ha, wouldn't that be hilarious, David.

Moments later I looked up to see my husband, wearing a look of mixed determination and amusement, folding a piece of paper.

Oh boy.

Flight attempt #1 failed. The airplane bounced off the glass of our neighbors' second story window and fell to the ground, out of sight behind the concrete wall dividing our houses. Attempt numero dos didn't go in the window either, but someone on the first floor must have seen because a moment later we heard a woman's voice call out something. The only words I caught from what she said were "un avion!" ("an airplane!").

A minute later, the music had been turned down and the window closed.

The end.

p.s. These are the same neighbors who have had a construction project going on at their house since months before we arrived, which means daily banging, sawing, flying dust, etc. One day while I was still back in the states, David got annoyed with the hammering that was going on at 10:30 p.m. and hammered back from our side of the wall until it stopped.

p.p.s. These are also the same neighbors who, when their yippy dog wouldn't quit, David blew a whistle every time the dog barked until they brought him inside.

p.p.p.s. These are also the same neighbors that I've given up all hope of them ever inviting us over for dinner.

Now, the end. Or maybe I should say, To Be Continued...