Now that I am in my fourth week in Arequipa, Peru, I have some more general observations… Now that I am in my fourth week in Arequipa, Peru, I have some more general observations about the country – Peru is kind of like the Internet, for a number of reasons:

There are banners showing women in bikinis all over the place: In the United States, people say, “Sex sells,” referencing beer advertisements that feature beautiful women. This type of advertising makes a lot of sense when you consider that many guys drink beer to get up enough gall to talk to beautiful women.

But in Peru, women in bikinis advertise optometry, bricklaying, second-hand monitors and payphones. But even as a 20-year-old man, I find it hard to accept the implicit claim that the right vendor of printer cartridges can help my chances with wet and wild Latina singles.

Maybe I’m wrong about this, though. Maybe there are legions of beautiful women who are at the margin of ravishing me but feel repulsed by my phone card brand. I’m pretty sure that if I bought drywall in Arequipa, I would probably pick the drywall for losers.

There’s tons of bootleg media: In Peru, the day after “Spider-Man 3” opened in theaters, you could buy it on DVD for $20. And, more eerily, you could buy “Spider-Man 2” on DVD the day before DVDs were invented. I like bootleg DVDs because instead of pegging the chapter markers to major plot points, the bootleggers put them at the funniest and awesomest parts that are what you really want to skip to anyway.

Piracy doesn’t stop at digital media. You high-brow, literary types are eagerly awaiting the apocalyptic release of “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.” Not Lewis Lehe, though. It already sells for $1.50 here.

However, pirated “Harry Potter” actually has little to do with real “Harry Potter.” The pirated versions have different authors. So, if you tried to talk to a Peruvian about “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows,” the conversation would go like this:

“My favorite part was when Neville Longbottom killed Voldemort.”

“I liked when Ron’s visa got approved and also when Harry went dancing with his parents.”

“His parents are dead, though.”

“That was later, when the taxi driver robbed them.”

The government can’t do anything: I’m in Peru to study the informal sector of the economy, which is comprised of people who largely ignore taxes, regulations, licensure, contracts, titling and court decisions like lawsuits. Most informals are driven to the sector because incompetent administration and excessive red tape make doing business legally prohibitively expensive.

But because it’s so hard to sue people here, Peru offers a lot of exciting sights that just wouldn’t be possible in America. Macchu Picchu is one, because it’s very easy to fall off a cliff at Macchu Picchu. Holding someone else’s baby out the window of a bus to save space is another, because it’s easy to drop a baby in traffic.

It can handle a lot of traffic: Arequipa is a city of a million people, but I doubt it has more than 20 traffic lights. Peruvian traffic basically works on the same set of informal guidelines that you use when you walk around. If you’re about to walk into someone, you turn to the right a little bit, they do the same, and you both get by. What’s interesting is that the distance norms do not change between walking and driving. So when two cars swerve to the right a little bit, they miss each other by about the same distance by which you miss someone on the way to calculus.

Also, just as you often mumble “Excuse me,” to people in the hallway, Peruvian drivers constantly tap their tiny horns. You’d think that the horns would get annoying, but almost every driver has a distinct sound. If you go to Toys R Us and shoot the toy space guns that make 50 laser sounds, that is what a Peruvian commute sounds like. I guess in this respect, Peru is more like a Power Point presentation than the Internet.

It’s easy to get viruses: If you have the chance, visit Peru right now, while I have all the diseases distracted. Peruvians are a warm and welcoming people, but their hospitality does not push them to observe rudimentary hygeine for their customers. One day, while eating from a street vendor, I wondered, “How does she wash these plates in her little cart?” I handed back my plate and watched the lady casually rinse my spoon in the same water which had been used a hundred times that day – without soap.

Have you ever wondered how Pringles replicates in a powder the taste of a product with as many distinct and non-soluble ingredients as pepperoni pizza? In a similar manner – which I can’t explain completely – the water was pepperoni-pizza colored.

Since I’ve been here, I’ve found myself turning to the Internet everyday to keep a sense of home. I suppose there is something American about the Internet. And since there is something Internet-like about Peru, I guess the two countries may be more similar than it seems.