Peru 14 - The P-Files or Why is Krishna Blue?

Oct 27, after laundry done but before breakfast

The hairs on the back of my neck are still raised as I type this in the secrecy of my adobe lair. My morning sweeping ritual is a total bust, for there is not a single broom to be found. Like toilet paper, shower heads and wheelbarrows, brooms are on of the growing list of items that disappear into the foggy air. I have a growing list of questions for Scully:

1. If the aliens are very very tall, why are so many doorways under 6 feet?
   
2. Why are the shower-heads removed every time after I put them on?
   
3. Why is Krishna always depicted in blue? (see Avatar)
   
4. Are witches in cohorts with the aliens or has Hogsworth opened a Peruvian academy? (hint: missing brooms)
   
5. Why is there a steady stream of buses and trucks 24/7 on the above highway (hint: watch the last few scenes of the first (1950s) Invasion of the Body Snatchers movie)
   
6. What is really behind the locked door on Truly #54?
7. Why do all the dogs here look like they have been genetically experimented on?
8. Why is serving one large hard cookie considered “dinner”?
9. Why is there only one verse in that “Hare Krishna” tune?
10. Why do only the volunteers get sick (at a fairly high rate)? Is it that experimental what-the-heck-is-this hot beverage that they innocently serve us every night?
    
11. How do all the moto-taxi and colectivo taxi drivers know exactly where the volunteers want to go without us telling them?
    
12. Why are there no post offices in Peru? (assumption: all aliens are telepathic and don't need primitive forms of communication).

On post offices – when I first went to Pasamayo, a town with five stores (one furniture, one baby clothing, the rest like miniatures 7-11s), I could see why there was no post office. But when I went to the next big town of Chancay (pronounced Shang-Hai by Spanglishers), a town with a port, a couple of refineries, and many many pharmacies, I asked for directions to the post office, and, after getting a few “I dunno's”, I finally got the real answer – there are no post offices in Chancay. There are no mail boxes. There are no stamps. I had a time-sensitive document (i.e. California speeding ticket to pay) to send, and was getting desperate – perhaps Lima (8 bazillion and counting) might have a PO? Two visiting girls from Lima – who work in an office there – perhaps they could stamp and mail my letter? “We don't know of any post offices in Lima, but we will try for you”, they reply. Gazooks!!!! That night I kneel down and pray for Krishna to manifest a Lima PO – a completely selfish act that will probably send me to a Hindu Hell.