Okay all you ghosts and goblins. we are officially a hand full of days away from the election and in my free time here at work I have been a political junkie gathering information and looking at raw data of poles collected and posted on line. I really don't care about national poles, because that is not how the president is elected. Those of you who believe we live in a democracy need to go back to High School Government class and realize that we are voting in a Democratic Republic, even for President. It is called the Electoral College and despite popular belief in our nation we actually have 51 elections for President as opposed to just one.
That being said it should be important to analyze the political map in such a fashion. there are plenty of poles, and poles of poles and blah blah blah. Back in the 80's (I think) there were some major union strike with car manufacturers (I think) and the car companies successfully crushed the unions on strike by noting that the average person at their company was earning a hansom salary. This was true, but they also included EVERYONES salary including the CEO. If one were to have looked at the median salary of the company it would have been halved of the number that the companies were implying.
Taking this concept to heart and the sheer quantity of polling data available I have analyzed the results using a median analysis method since June when Hillary Clinton bowed out of the race. Based on the figures I have collected from http://www.usaelectionpolls.com/ the results are in and they are not pretty. According to my analysis Barrack Obama should win the election by more than 2 to 1. He will win all of the Kerry states from 2004. In addition to these states he will also win the following states that voted for Bush in 2004:
Colorado, Florida, Indiana, Iowa, Missouri, Nevada, New Mexico, North Carolina, North Dakota, Ohio, and Virginia.
Some easy calculator work shows the final result at Obama 378, McCain 160. I invite the three people that might read this post before the election to submit weather you think that Obama will end up with more or less electoral votes that 378. Everyone who gets it correct will get a virtual "treat" from my left over candy from Halloween.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Final Breakdown on Brazil:
Country of Origin: Argentina
Total time in country: 21 days
Music: The Samba! Move your feet as fast as you can! It doesn't really seem to matter if it is to the music or not.
People: Beautiful women might distract you from their boyfriends buying the next round with money from your pocket.
Transport: Buses are expensive, no movies AND NO A/C! What a bunch of crap.
Landscape: Green, lush, tropical paradise, quaint colonial areas, beautiful beaches. Yawn, seen it in other places too. The truly original place... Iguazu Falls
Food: My poorness was evident in my food choice in this country. I can tell you that bake ham and cheese rolls on every street corner get old quickly and it is really hard to find peanut butter.
Safety: Carnival had some obvious security issues as discussed, and the countryside is safe as in most countries, and in the big cities you just need to stay in the safe areas like any major city.
Gas prices: gas - 2.57 Reales/ gallon (5.49 USD/gallon), or the sugar cane ethanol for 3.62 USD/gallon.
Surprised by: How big the country is! Brazil is the next smallest country to the USA, and to think that we took a bus half way through it to get to Salvador, then turned around and went back a quarter of the way back to get to Rio, that is a lot of bus time
Final word: The unexpected gem! I had few expectations going into Brazil besides the pandemonium of Carnival. Carnival came through and so did all the other parts of the country. The countryside was beautiful, the beaches clean, and Rio vivacious. The Portuguese was funky for a couple of days but easy enough with the Spanish background, but this doesn't matter much as everyone there speaks body language.
Next stop: USA via Panama
Total time in country: 21 days
Music: The Samba! Move your feet as fast as you can! It doesn't really seem to matter if it is to the music or not.
People: Beautiful women might distract you from their boyfriends buying the next round with money from your pocket.
Transport: Buses are expensive, no movies AND NO A/C! What a bunch of crap.
Landscape: Green, lush, tropical paradise, quaint colonial areas, beautiful beaches. Yawn, seen it in other places too. The truly original place... Iguazu Falls
Food: My poorness was evident in my food choice in this country. I can tell you that bake ham and cheese rolls on every street corner get old quickly and it is really hard to find peanut butter.
Safety: Carnival had some obvious security issues as discussed, and the countryside is safe as in most countries, and in the big cities you just need to stay in the safe areas like any major city.
Gas prices: gas - 2.57 Reales/ gallon (5.49 USD/gallon), or the sugar cane ethanol for 3.62 USD/gallon.
Surprised by: How big the country is! Brazil is the next smallest country to the USA, and to think that we took a bus half way through it to get to Salvador, then turned around and went back a quarter of the way back to get to Rio, that is a lot of bus time
Final word: The unexpected gem! I had few expectations going into Brazil besides the pandemonium of Carnival. Carnival came through and so did all the other parts of the country. The countryside was beautiful, the beaches clean, and Rio vivacious. The Portuguese was funky for a couple of days but easy enough with the Spanish background, but this doesn't matter much as everyone there speaks body language.
Next stop: USA via Panama
Monday, October 13, 2008
Wrappin' It Up in Rio
After a week of chasing a bunch of girls through the streets of Salvador, and then getting chased back by several of them that turned out to not be girls; Carnival was over. This meant also that Dave and my traveling time together was done. We shared a special moment in the hostel as he left early one morning to go to Rio a couple of days before I went. There was a twinge of sadness in my voice when I asked him to not forget to turn out the light as he left. Dave wiped the sleep boogers out of his eyes, but it could have well be a tear as he grunt and closed the door. Jon was still dead to the world and said later that it took him a full week to recover from the chaos that was a week in Salvador. Some might say he never did!
Before I could run off to Rio I needed some good R and R from my 3 month and 3 week vacation. I took off to Lençois a nice little mountain town without any mountains to the west of Salvador. I ran into some Irish chaps who like all good Irishmen loved to drink. So we took to getting rid of our week long hangovers though the old Irish method of drinking more which seems to work well enough. Lençois had some fun hikes that we didn't do, some interesting geological formations that we didn't see, and some very pleasant natural hot springs that we didn't swim in. Like much of Brazil the tourism industry gets a little outrageous for the month before and after Carnival, and this being the end of my trip (read: strapped for cash) I was perfectly content to sit creek-side and enjoy a good book about cocaine smuggling.
After the batteries were charged for another go at a major party city we headed back towards Rio. The bus ride took us a few days with a stop at beach town where we enjoyed what most people enjoy at a good beach.
A couple of days later we found ourselves in a street party in Rio. I asked some of the locals in my horrible Portuguese if this was still left over from the Carnival party that was now a week old. She laughed and said that this 10 sq block area was always full on a Tuesday night with the hipsters from Brazil and all over the world. The famous beaches are also quite the sight to see, but like the other beaches around the world there is the sandy part and then there is the ocean part. Ipanema though reminded me of what one might see on Baywatch.
I was really impressed by the Christ Redeemer and the story he's always telling of the best fishing trip ever. It's location atop a rocky bulge in the middle of the city gives awesome presence even in the sprawling suburbs. From the top it is possible to see the Sugar Loaf as seen in the picture in this post, and the Maracana which is the Brazilian shrine to soccer. The Christ Redeemer's fishing trip gives it great presence in the entire city, but its placement in the modern 7 Wonders of the World I find a little cheeky. I was more impressed by the Statue of Liberty; something I alost skipped on my trip to New York but was astounded how impressed I was standing at it's feet. Ms. Liberty's construction was also more difficult and an achievement at the time, but I digress.
I made arrangement so that the last thing I did in country was go see a soccer game in the Maracana. It is the largest stadium in South America, officially holds 95,000 fans and has been reported to have held unofficially around 200,000 fans for a game back in the 1950's. As is the etiquette in all other South American countries the end zones are reserved for the general masses and where the large banners and flares go off. When goals were scored the look of exhilaration at one end was matched only by the dejected look from the opposing end of the stadium. With everyone wanting to sit in the worst seat to be a part of the best atmosphere, we walked into the stadium 3 minutes before the kick-off of the Semi-final match and sat 18 rows behind the teams at midfield, the best seats in the house!
The Irish lads and I tried to wander up into the crazy section, but my poor Portuguese and their non-existent Portuguese did not allow us to talk our way past security. It's amazing how the grass is always greener, and we were put off by our unsuccessful attempt to join the animated areas as we scuffeled back to our seats at midfield. The game end 2-1 and was back and forth the entire way between to Rio clubs that were both well represented in the stadium. This definitely makes the list as a top three sporting events I've seen in person, and certainly one of the best venues in which to see nearly 100,000 people go crazy at the same time.
After the game I went straight out to the airport where I sat and waited for my red eye flight to Panama and eventually home. Brazil and Carnival did not disappoint as a good place to end a trip of this caliber. Check South America of the places to visit in the world. Next stop... SE Asia. I guess I'd better go get a job so that I can eventually pay for it.
Friday, October 3, 2008
The Job
So lots of people have asked what it is exactly that I do. To make a baseball reference, I am the utility player. I fill in for others and do all the jobs that no else has time or the patience to do. It's an interesting position because I get to sit in the high level meeting and listen to the people narrate the story of what is happening. In these weekly and monthly meeting I am the one that takes the notes and writes the story. I write the minutes to make my company look good, and then the three bosses edit them to make us look even better.
The basics of the job is construction management for THE major ports company in Panama. It is owned by the largest ports managing company (based in Hong Kong) in the world. As the Panama Canal expansion takes place this port is moving more containers than ever before with only more work on the way. We are building a large transfer station (read Parking Lot) for containers. We have taken a large swamp and are in the process of turning it into a concrete slab. There has been quite a bit of noticeable difference made even in just the past 4 months of my employment.
Picture taken 11 July 08 (looking south) of the area that was dredged and then filled with sand. The river on the left side has been moved to run its present path. Note also the dock construction along the right side of the picture.
Picture taken 15 August 08 (looking north). Notice shipping containers at bottom of screen stacked six high. We are building more storage so that the entire sand area will have capacity to store shipping boxes. Eventually the dock will be extended an additional 500 meters along the east side of the canal to where it will make land fall. It is about 50 m wide.
Picture taken 30 September 08. I estimate the the sand area to be about 18-20 football fields.
The basics of the job is construction management for THE major ports company in Panama. It is owned by the largest ports managing company (based in Hong Kong) in the world. As the Panama Canal expansion takes place this port is moving more containers than ever before with only more work on the way. We are building a large transfer station (read Parking Lot) for containers. We have taken a large swamp and are in the process of turning it into a concrete slab. There has been quite a bit of noticeable difference made even in just the past 4 months of my employment.
Picture taken 11 July 08 (looking south) of the area that was dredged and then filled with sand. The river on the left side has been moved to run its present path. Note also the dock construction along the right side of the picture.
Picture taken 15 August 08 (looking north). Notice shipping containers at bottom of screen stacked six high. We are building more storage so that the entire sand area will have capacity to store shipping boxes. Eventually the dock will be extended an additional 500 meters along the east side of the canal to where it will make land fall. It is about 50 m wide.
Picture taken 30 September 08. I estimate the the sand area to be about 18-20 football fields.
Monday, September 15, 2008
An Outsider's Perspective
As an expat living abroad I feel like I get a perspective on the forthcoming election in November that not many Americans do. There are a thousand ways to breakdown this election, but the most simplistic point of view is an X in one of two columns. If you want your vote to count it will go into the column of either Obama/Biden or McCain/Palin.
Despite the candidates best efforts most of the population and even the voting population will cast a ballot without ever going to see the candidate speak in person, and even fewer get to ask a question never mind a series of questions. So this election boils down to rhetoric and public speaking. This is where my perspective comes in because I don't hear all the spin doctors and don't get annoying photo calls offering to help. All I see is the candidates and listen to their words.
From having listened to both candidates over the past few months several thinks have become abundantly clear. Both sides offer the public what they think the general population wants to hear. Despite saying they are going to get specific both candidates will make one sentence comments about a range of topics and call this specific. I don't blame them for this, and I THANK them for it. I don't care how good of a public speaker Obama is, if he went into specifics details and footnotes of his health plan he would be more boring than McCain to listen too.
So the words they say are very similar, so to me it comes down to speech delivery style. This is one of the largest contrasts between the candidates, and how they try to influence the voters. First you have Obama who speaks like a Monet painting. His broad stroke sweeping comments don't make too much sense if you listen to them one at a time, and if one were to stand too close all that can be seen are the streaks of colors that have no connection. If one steps back and looks at the entire speech the picture comes into focus, is quite elegant but is fuzzy at best. This shows Obama to be thoughtful and to think through problems, let's just hope he doesn't take too long to make a decision.
McCain, in stark contrast speaks like a connect-the-dots drawing. He made a series of short bullet points on a page, then makes comments to try to give the listener the ability to fill in the rest of the drawing. These short comments are sometimes funny and clever which all plays well in the news and to the beer-drinkin'-backyard-BBQin' crowd that most Americans like to think they are. The comments are simple and the delivery is generic enough allow each person to fill in the line drawing how they prefer to view the situation. It may demonstrate the level of sophistication in McCain's thought process.
So there it is! My 22 cents worth up from 2 cents due to inflation. I tried to be impartial in writing this, and I hope my detached location can help the reader to make their own decision about what kind of a person they want their next president to be.
Despite the candidates best efforts most of the population and even the voting population will cast a ballot without ever going to see the candidate speak in person, and even fewer get to ask a question never mind a series of questions. So this election boils down to rhetoric and public speaking. This is where my perspective comes in because I don't hear all the spin doctors and don't get annoying photo calls offering to help. All I see is the candidates and listen to their words.
From having listened to both candidates over the past few months several thinks have become abundantly clear. Both sides offer the public what they think the general population wants to hear. Despite saying they are going to get specific both candidates will make one sentence comments about a range of topics and call this specific. I don't blame them for this, and I THANK them for it. I don't care how good of a public speaker Obama is, if he went into specifics details and footnotes of his health plan he would be more boring than McCain to listen too.
So the words they say are very similar, so to me it comes down to speech delivery style. This is one of the largest contrasts between the candidates, and how they try to influence the voters. First you have Obama who speaks like a Monet painting. His broad stroke sweeping comments don't make too much sense if you listen to them one at a time, and if one were to stand too close all that can be seen are the streaks of colors that have no connection. If one steps back and looks at the entire speech the picture comes into focus, is quite elegant but is fuzzy at best. This shows Obama to be thoughtful and to think through problems, let's just hope he doesn't take too long to make a decision.
McCain, in stark contrast speaks like a connect-the-dots drawing. He made a series of short bullet points on a page, then makes comments to try to give the listener the ability to fill in the rest of the drawing. These short comments are sometimes funny and clever which all plays well in the news and to the beer-drinkin'-backyard-BBQin' crowd that most Americans like to think they are. The comments are simple and the delivery is generic enough allow each person to fill in the line drawing how they prefer to view the situation. It may demonstrate the level of sophistication in McCain's thought process.
So there it is! My 22 cents worth up from 2 cents due to inflation. I tried to be impartial in writing this, and I hope my detached location can help the reader to make their own decision about what kind of a person they want their next president to be.
Monday, September 1, 2008
The Beavers in Beaver Staium
OK, so the beavs got off to a bad start this past Thursday. I'm thrilled to be taking a long weekend and going to Beaver Stadium in Happy Vally on the Penn State Campus. I am going with Dave (with whom I traveled South America) and some of his fellow Penn State Alums. It should be great to go see Joe Paterno in his senile 82 year old self and watch 107,000 fans sit silently as the Beavers gain some redemption.
Last I heard this is going to be the ESPN game of the week, so keep your eyes open for me. I'll be the only one in orange and black (and probably beer) that will be cheering and geering when the final gun goes off.
Last I heard this is going to be the ESPN game of the week, so keep your eyes open for me. I'll be the only one in orange and black (and probably beer) that will be cheering and geering when the final gun goes off.
Monday, August 25, 2008
The Sports Report in Panama
Ok, so the Saladino Effect has gone a little over the top at this point. He is now in every other commercial, every politician has solicited his endorsement, and every baby - boy and girl - will be named Irving or Saladino or both for at least the next month. So as the Olympics draw to a close coverage once again returns to the America's pass time. As I sit here and watch the sports highlights I can't help but notice the stark differences between the coverage here and back home.
Good ol' ESPN loves their Yankees and Red Soxs, Ozzie Guillen's mouth, Brett Farve's arm, Tiger Wood's knee, whether Boston Celtics will repeat (who thinks about the NBA in August), and the insignificance of preseason football. But guaranteed to be in every hour of Sports Center are some of the best plays in the sports world and an attempt to cover at least most of the games of the day, and then there are the plays of the day and web gems. Most local sports casters have a local and shorter version of this same format.
Contrast that to what you get in this country. The leading story on any reputable sports cast here in Panama is with Mariano Rivera. The likely future Hall o' Famer is probably the most famous sportster to come out of Panama. After watching 7 of his 9 pitches to win, loose, draw or save for the Yankees the focus switches to all the tier two Panamanian ball players. A tier two ball player in Panama is defined here has any player in the Major Leagues that is not Mariano Rivera. One might see Carlos Lee fan twice and hit an insignificant ground ball to the second baseman; or Carlos Ruís catching for the starting pitcher of the Phillies... in the bullpen before the game.
All of the insignificant plays that these and the other Panamanian players make will be well documented, but will they note the great catch made by Ichiro to save extra innings? Not a chance. Will they show Ronaldinho's spectacular bicycle kick goal? Maybe. Will they show any other sport besides baseball and soccer? No way!
I am reminded of the banner that I saw in Costa Rica right before the World Cup 2006 in which Costa Rica lost three out of three games and was eliminated. The banner read: "Congratulations Costa Rica, we made it to the World Cup Tournament!" They were happy just to have made it. In the same way the Panamanians want to see the Panamanian players no matter how significant or insignificant to be able to share in the glory of just making it, and forget the actual great plays, results, and commentary on significance.
And to this I say, rock on Manny Acosta! Carlos Beltran hit the game winning double off you last night, but someone hand to throw the loosing pitch. All of your countrymen (all of whom claim to be related to you by at least a cuña'o) down here will love you for making it onto the mound in the majors and will happily forget the details. We made it!
Good ol' ESPN loves their Yankees and Red Soxs, Ozzie Guillen's mouth, Brett Farve's arm, Tiger Wood's knee, whether Boston Celtics will repeat (who thinks about the NBA in August), and the insignificance of preseason football. But guaranteed to be in every hour of Sports Center are some of the best plays in the sports world and an attempt to cover at least most of the games of the day, and then there are the plays of the day and web gems. Most local sports casters have a local and shorter version of this same format.
Contrast that to what you get in this country. The leading story on any reputable sports cast here in Panama is with Mariano Rivera. The likely future Hall o' Famer is probably the most famous sportster to come out of Panama. After watching 7 of his 9 pitches to win, loose, draw or save for the Yankees the focus switches to all the tier two Panamanian ball players. A tier two ball player in Panama is defined here has any player in the Major Leagues that is not Mariano Rivera. One might see Carlos Lee fan twice and hit an insignificant ground ball to the second baseman; or Carlos Ruís catching for the starting pitcher of the Phillies... in the bullpen before the game.
All of the insignificant plays that these and the other Panamanian players make will be well documented, but will they note the great catch made by Ichiro to save extra innings? Not a chance. Will they show Ronaldinho's spectacular bicycle kick goal? Maybe. Will they show any other sport besides baseball and soccer? No way!
I am reminded of the banner that I saw in Costa Rica right before the World Cup 2006 in which Costa Rica lost three out of three games and was eliminated. The banner read: "Congratulations Costa Rica, we made it to the World Cup Tournament!" They were happy just to have made it. In the same way the Panamanians want to see the Panamanian players no matter how significant or insignificant to be able to share in the glory of just making it, and forget the actual great plays, results, and commentary on significance.
And to this I say, rock on Manny Acosta! Carlos Beltran hit the game winning double off you last night, but someone hand to throw the loosing pitch. All of your countrymen (all of whom claim to be related to you by at least a cuña'o) down here will love you for making it onto the mound in the majors and will happily forget the details. We made it!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Us Americans and our Gold Metals
Ok, so Michael Phelps won 8 gold metals to become the most decorated Olympian ever, the Redeem Team is on pace to destroy the competition, the USA as of today leads the overall metal count. These are all great stories of triumph and success, and to be honest they are all a little trite. Swimming hands outs metals like confetti on new years days, and the USA is actually loosing the gold metal race with China which probably means that they are going to roll their red asses across the Pacific and assimilate the the USA into their Borg-like factory system based on a a wierd combination of capitalism and communism.
Is this history in the making? Probably. Is this the best story of the Olympics? Hell no! The Olympics has always been about making a bunch of money off all the people coming to the host country, and a little thing called friendly international competition. I could write a thesis here about how much I love the Olympics as each sport is actually a little society with simple rules, punishments for breaking said rules, and rewards for being the best. For example in the long jump the rules are simple. Run as fast as you can at a pit of sand and jump as far as you can. If you step on the line it doesn't count, you have three jumps, good luck.
My favorite stories are the ones of the underdog; never the ones of the people that are suppose to win. Rooting against the Yankees is more fun than rooting for them, watching the "Redeem Team" kick the crap out of everyone they play against is a little is boring. I want to see the Kenyan or Nigerian runner who historically should be shooting his neighbors for being a different shade of "dark chocolate", but instead decided he was going to take his long legs and start running. No only would he run well, but he would defy AIDS and so much more just to make it to the Olympics. Then he would continue to eat his Wheaties, and run 26.2 miles faster than anyone else in the world. These are the stories!
Panama finally has it's first gold metal in the history of the Olympics, EVER! Before this year Panama had two Bronze metals for basically showing up to the games. With a long jump of 8.34 meters Irving Saladino long jumped his way out of one of the toughest neighborhoods in all of Panama into Panamanian sports history with the first gold metal by an central or south american team this year, and the first gold one for Panama. So the rich countries can celebrate celebrate all their gold metals by taking the winners out for a "good job pizza", but I'll be dancing in the streets on August 21 with the rest of Panama City to the hero's welcome for Saladino as if he had single-handedly stopped the Russian invasion of Georgia.
Is this history in the making? Probably. Is this the best story of the Olympics? Hell no! The Olympics has always been about making a bunch of money off all the people coming to the host country, and a little thing called friendly international competition. I could write a thesis here about how much I love the Olympics as each sport is actually a little society with simple rules, punishments for breaking said rules, and rewards for being the best. For example in the long jump the rules are simple. Run as fast as you can at a pit of sand and jump as far as you can. If you step on the line it doesn't count, you have three jumps, good luck.
My favorite stories are the ones of the underdog; never the ones of the people that are suppose to win. Rooting against the Yankees is more fun than rooting for them, watching the "Redeem Team" kick the crap out of everyone they play against is a little is boring. I want to see the Kenyan or Nigerian runner who historically should be shooting his neighbors for being a different shade of "dark chocolate", but instead decided he was going to take his long legs and start running. No only would he run well, but he would defy AIDS and so much more just to make it to the Olympics. Then he would continue to eat his Wheaties, and run 26.2 miles faster than anyone else in the world. These are the stories!
Panama finally has it's first gold metal in the history of the Olympics, EVER! Before this year Panama had two Bronze metals for basically showing up to the games. With a long jump of 8.34 meters Irving Saladino long jumped his way out of one of the toughest neighborhoods in all of Panama into Panamanian sports history with the first gold metal by an central or south american team this year, and the first gold one for Panama. So the rich countries can celebrate celebrate all their gold metals by taking the winners out for a "good job pizza", but I'll be dancing in the streets on August 21 with the rest of Panama City to the hero's welcome for Saladino as if he had single-handedly stopped the Russian invasion of Georgia.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Survival Guide to Carnival in Salvador
Many people have asked me to describe what Carnival is like in Brazil. It is not an even that is lived, it is survived! It is an assault on the sense and even for someone who has a space bubble as small as mine there were enough people to make me glad that I didn't have social anxiety disorder.
Everywhere celebrates the festivities, but there are two major hot spots in Brazil for the week. Rio de Janeiro, and Salvador da Bahia.Rio is a great town with some amazing beaches and is know throughout the world as THE place to be for Carnival! From some first hand accounts that I have heard this is very true as many international tourist come here to catch some sun, music, and exotic diseases. Rio has the a stadium built on a stretch of road exclusively for the Carnival Parades. In theory these are the best parts about Carnival in Rio, and these are exactly the reason why we went to Salvador.
While all of the international tourists flock to Rio; all of the Brazilian tourist exit en masse to Salvador. While all those people are in the stadium watching the parades, in Bahia we were people Rio have got nothing on the Guiness Book of World Records largest street party in Bahia estimated at well over 2.1 million people each year. Throughout this post there are pictures from both as we watched the Rio parades on TV as a break from the dancing in the streets in Bahia.
Dave and my Peace Corps from Panama friend, Jon, met us in Bahia for the glorious week of chaotic madness. We spent the days laying on the beach taking momentary dance breaks from our attempts to turn our skin color into that of a lobster. Once it would cool down in the evening we would go out to the streets with several million of our favorite pick pockets to watch all the famous musicians from around the world perform on their moving stage.
We would take turns buying beer in the streets, dancing as the floats went by, and trying to get the other two to look at (in that special way) the pretty girls with five o'clock shadow, hair legs and baritone voice. I will admit to being headbutted by a pair of flying lips from a dude in a pink leotard and bunny ears who was almost a full head taller than me. I had no idea it was coming.
After five minutes of laughter Dave said he saw the whole thing coming, could have stopped it, but then decided it would be funnier to let the whole thing play out as he said "naturally".part of the parades. Lastly all theI wish we could have taken more pictures, but due to security concerns we did not take our cameras out for more than one hour in the week. One is just asking for trouble taking a camera around, even a disposable camera. Everyone is a pick pocket during this time. It is not that they are malicious about it, Brazilians just feel like if they can buy the next round on your dime they will. Being tall and blond is as good as wearing a neon sign that says ROB ME! We never had more than $15 each at any given time, and thought it would be fun to write offensive phrases on bits of paper and stick them in pockets like folded money.
One pickpocket earned himself a cuffed ear from Hospital (aka my left fist), he's lucky I didn't turn the other way otherwise he would have run right in Cemetery. Dave still got the best of one pick pocket by complete accident.
He felt the ominous pokes of interested fingers, waited for the smash and grab, and when it happened he turned and pushed the guy right into a line of police that he had not seen. The cops caught the guy as he stumbled back, looked right at Dave and in a language that sounded like the adults in Peanuts asked a question. It did not matter that we do not speak Peanuts Adult-inese, we understood the question perfectly. "Yes," Dave responded and pointed at the guy, "he tried to rob me." and with that the public beating began. Dave and I walked off as the judge, jury, and executioner hauled the would be robber off for a fun night of pissing blood at his local cell. After a couple of days the quantity of people started to get on our nerves. We were tired of feeling on guard all the time. We didn't get tired of the random girls coming up and kissing us though. We learned the all important lesson that one may not speak the same verbal language, but we learned that all speak body language.
At this point I shall leave the reader to use their imagination to fill in the details...
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Road to Carnival
By going to the Boca/River game we successfully traveled 6 hours in the wrong direction for getting to Carnival. We spent 12 hrs in Mar de Plata to see the game and go to the beach. We spent as much time on the bus as we did in getting there. It is as if we were 19 again and had made a beer run from Portland, Oregon to the Canadian border. Upon leaving on the 2 am bus back to BA we decided to go for the luxury seats so that we might be able to sleep a bit better as there would be four days of hard traveling to make it to Carnival on time.
We soon discovered that after a night on ANY bus you reach Vegetative State 2. This state is recognized by a sore back, and restlessness. We had a few hour to kill in BA so we were able to collect our thoughts and prep ourselves for the 20 hr bus to the Brazilian border. We brought the chess set, books, food, Rubik's cube, and a Portuguese study guide, but by the time we got off the bus at the border we had passed into Vegetative State 3.Vegetative State 3 is indicted by long periods of lost time, zoning out, unresponsiveness to punches in the arm, and emitting a body odor that no cologne can cover up. We were lucky though because we had to cross the border independent of the long bus systems.
Even though we had to think and process information in a country that did not speak English or Spanish, by the time we got back onto the long haul bus we were only back to Vegetative State 1 which is the lack of desire to talk because everything you have have to say that is interesting or uninteresting has already been said.While at the border we did have to opportunity to jump out to see the famous Iguaçu Falls. No one picture can capture the immenseness of the falls. Interspersed through this blog post are a series of pictures that show parts of the falls, but the quantity of water, shape, and grandness of the falls is unmatched. They are probably 60 meters tall, but over a kilometer long. There are national parks on both the Argentine side and the Brazilian side, and both have their perks. In terms of getting to the water and getting wet, the Argentine side is better, but the Brazilian side is more photogenic. It was nice to just stroll around and have a look at something that was not the inside of a bus.
No movies in any of the Brazilian buses was a huge disappointment and a large part of the reason why I forgot where we transferred. It could have been Sao Paulo or Rio de Janeiro, this memory loss along with with the drool covered shirt indicate that I reached Vegetative State 5 on this bus. Vegetative state 5 is recognized by the desire but in ability to sleep or think. One may feel as though the brain has been removed from the body. We got to the city about midday, and discovered we had to get across town in 15 minutes to make the bus. As that was not going to happen we ended up with the afternoon in what we discovered was Sao Paulo as we came back down the vegetative state chart. We had lunch and watched a movie, and the back to the bus stop were we got back on the bus for our final and longest leg. All night and the next day and night we traveled on the bus.
It is unknown what the final vegetative state was because we had obviously blacked out and thus had been above level 6 (if level 10 is brain dead and breathing machine). In the bus yard in Bahia da Salvador, after all the passengers had gotten off, the maid came on to clean the bus and found us still there. She freaked out, started screaming and babbling in some strange language that I didn't recognize, and beating us over the head with her mop. That brought us back to life enough to grab our bags, tumble off the bus and start to give human form to the blobs that we called our bodies.
"We're soooo there!" Dave exclaimed.
"Hang on," I said, "I need to sit down for a couple of minutes."
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Final Breakdown on Argentina:
Country of Origin: Chile
Total time in country: 21 days
Music: Tango dancing is the nation dance of pride. This sultry dance has been made illegal in 8 states for being "excessively sexy".
People: 40% of the Argentinian population is three (or fewer) generations removed from their immigrant Italian ancestors. Hmmm what happen three generations ago in Italy that would make them all want to leave Europe...
Transport: Supposedly the airline company that we flew was on strike. They should teach the airline companies in the states how to improve their service by striking.
Landscape: Patagonia might be one of the loveliest places I've ever been, and I will always be looking for jobs now in Mendoza, I could live there.
Food: Dave so eloquently put it that he fell in love will all the grill masters at restaurants where we ate. The Italians don't mess around when it comes to their food and wine. In my opinion Argentinian wine underrated, Chilean wine overrated.
Safety: I don't recommend sitting in the Boca stadium in white and red, but other then that it felt as safe as any European city.
Gas prices: 3.14 Argentine Pesos/Liter (3.98 USD per gallon)
Surprised by: How un-Latin American the place seems. It is the South American anchor point to Europe. You can also tell by the strong (but likable) ego of the Argentinians that they are a little miffed they have to share the continent with the rest of Latin America.
Final word: If I had my way this would probably be the first South American country I return to. I could live in Mendoza, I still have to get to the lake district in the northern part of Patagonia, and I'm not sure I would ever get tired of watching the tango dancing in Buenos Aires.
Next stop: Brazil
Total time in country: 21 days
Music: Tango dancing is the nation dance of pride. This sultry dance has been made illegal in 8 states for being "excessively sexy".
People: 40% of the Argentinian population is three (or fewer) generations removed from their immigrant Italian ancestors. Hmmm what happen three generations ago in Italy that would make them all want to leave Europe...
Transport: Supposedly the airline company that we flew was on strike. They should teach the airline companies in the states how to improve their service by striking.
Landscape: Patagonia might be one of the loveliest places I've ever been, and I will always be looking for jobs now in Mendoza, I could live there.
Food: Dave so eloquently put it that he fell in love will all the grill masters at restaurants where we ate. The Italians don't mess around when it comes to their food and wine. In my opinion Argentinian wine underrated, Chilean wine overrated.
Safety: I don't recommend sitting in the Boca stadium in white and red, but other then that it felt as safe as any European city.
Gas prices: 3.14 Argentine Pesos/Liter (3.98 USD per gallon)
Surprised by: How un-Latin American the place seems. It is the South American anchor point to Europe. You can also tell by the strong (but likable) ego of the Argentinians that they are a little miffed they have to share the continent with the rest of Latin America.
Final word: If I had my way this would probably be the first South American country I return to. I could live in Mendoza, I still have to get to the lake district in the northern part of Patagonia, and I'm not sure I would ever get tired of watching the tango dancing in Buenos Aires.
Next stop: Brazil
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Bad Haircuts in Buenos Aires
Instead of taking two days in a bus to get down to Patagonia we saddled up an airplane and flew both directions. We flew from Buenos Aires down to area which means that upon our return we were actually visiting BA for the second time. The first time wan not much. We had opted to stay in Mendoza for an extra day and just catch the overnight bus to get to the airport in time for our flight. One the way in we had some unexpected bus trouble and found ourselves sweating, not knowing if we were going to make said flight. Finally on the edge of town while the bus was broken down for nth time (where n = more fingers than I have) Dave and I decided to just pony up and take a taxi. At this point in the day it is probably 2:00 and and the flight is at 3:30. We motor through town in the cab, pull the "I'm a lost gringo" trick and walked to the front of the line in the airport.
No one even seemed to notice. By 2:15 we were checked in and realize we had not eaten all day and were famished. I had noticed a stand outside with a grill. We headed back outside the airport to fill our striking stomachs. Unbeknownst to us at the time we accidentally stumbled upon the choripan which wins the best street food of south america award. For three Argentinian Pesos (about a dollar) one can get an excellent sausage (chorizo) packed inside a freshly baked roll (pan), and if you mash chorizo y pan into one word you come up with the above stated choripan. Part of the reason why these stands win this award is because they have more condiments (some of them made fresh daily) then they have items on the menu.
Dave and I shove two into our mouths each, and as we are contemplating a third we look over to see the cook talking with a pretty lady who has a camera man in tow. I turn around just in time to see him point at us and say, "you can interview the gringos too if you want, they speak Spanish well enough." Unable to resist, she came over and started to chat us up. Eventually she wandered into asking for an interview, I looked at Dave and myself and saw nothing but scrubby backpacker who hadn't changed clothes in over 24 hrs, showered recently, and had greasy sausage face as well. Unfortunately while I had thought about saying no, Dave had immediately exclaimed "anything for you pretty lady," with his big cartoon like googly eyes. Somehow I got roped into standing by Dave's side. Before allowing Dave to do the interview i asked what the interview was going to be about. She promised just a couple of easy questions about where we are from and Buenos Aires. My spid-e-senses were going crazy, but I had no real ammo to say no.
The interview went something like this...
What are your names?
Dave and Lane
What are you doing here in Buenos Aires?
Traveling, we are on our way down to Rio Gallegos by plane
How did you like Buenos Aires?
We actually have only been here for about an hour, we will spend more time here on the way back
Aren't you concerned about sicknesses and eating at a dirty sausage stand like this one on the streets?
...
As Dave, startled by the sudden change in question, started to say something about how we had been through all of South America and that this place was probably 100X better than anything in Bolivia, blah blah blah the camera moved in for the portrait on just him. The questions continued and Dave just kept talking. As I slowly stepped away all I could see was in the close-up shot on Dave, all one would see is his unkept self as stated above, and his shirt that had Promotor de Saluda emblazoned across the front and a Peace Corps logo.
In the Peace Corps we are told to avoid the media, but we were out now. Why not do the interview? I knew that she could cut the film to make us look like idiots, and thus the Peace Corps as well. I, like Tom Sawyer after stealing a hunk of bacon, thought that the gods of doing the wrong thing were going to rain hell-fire down upon us, but as I opened my eyes to see the interviewer walking off and Dave saying, we gotta go, and not but blue sky all around, I wiped my brow having escaped fate again and walked off. Dave later admitted to me that he had no idea what he was saying during the interview, he was just trying to speak Spanish as well as he could and make sure that the answer given matched the question asked. Maybe it was a good thing that we didn't see the end result of the interview.
Once we got back from Patagonia we were ready to get down in BA. We had heard so much good stuff about BA, and she did not disappoint. We got a local recommendation for some tango lessons in the basement of a near-by community center. It was mostly locals, and a great experience. The tango is amazing to watch, it is the vertical representation of the horizontal mambo. Dave and I looked at each other and both decided to practice a little, but we really just wanted to watch.
The next day we went down to the El Caminito which is in Boca the blue-collar part of town.
This colorful alley has tourist trap written all over it with tango dancers in the street, over priced restaurants, art galleries, and gift shops everywhere. It was quaint, but over the top, the stadium of the Boca Juniors (The South American soccer version of the Yankees) which seats over 100K people was far more interesting for Dave and I. On the way back to our hostel we stopped at the Casa Rosada, the Argentine 'White House' to be able to say we went to the house where Madonna played that famous lady in that movie we never saw. what was that movie called?To kill an afternoon Dave and I went and got haircuts. I was nervous because Argentina apeared to be the mullet capital of the world. Everyone had one and the style was to see who could make their hair look more greasy and redneck than the rest. Haircuts were mandatory because we would each have an interview on the way home, and we did not want that awkward "I just had a haircut yesterday" look. We made the executive decision to do it in BA because we could speak Spanish and explain what we wanted, who knew what would happen in Brazil where we might not be able to communicate with the hair cutter. Dave went first and came out fine, but when I came out next, Dave stifled his laughter and said, "looks great, no mullet." It wasn't until we met up with Jon a week later at Carnival when he asked "do you know you have a mullet thing going on in the back?"
Dane showed up soon there after. He was headed down to Patagonia to instruct a NOLS course on long distance hiking in Patagonia, but had some time to kill in BA and we just happened to be there at the same time. We strolled around town and went to see Romeo and Juliet styled cemetery. It was full of all the famous families from Argentina that I didn't know, but the Catholic style housing for the dead was quite impressive.
The next morning we clambered onto a train and went down to Mar de Plata.
Spent the day on a beach where we had to walk for a quarter mile just to find enough space for three dudes to lay down in the sand. It was PACKED. Why here you ask? Because the beach was secondary for everyone. We were all there to see a football game. It had been a sin to have skipped so many games in the other countries, but we were making up for it here. The three of us were going to see a boca/river game. This is a crosstown rivalry AND a social class rivalry AND the two most well know teams in the country. Imagine Yankees / Red Socks on HGH. People have been killed, and as we got off the train, the riot police made their presence know right away in their full riot gear and dogs. It got better by the minute. We scalped some tickets infront of the summer league stadium, downed a couple of choripans and went into the game. Chaos ensued. Boca won, our prize for standing with the winning team was we were locked us into the stadium for almost an entire hour after the game. Measures that the local authorities had taken to prevent mixing of the fan bases. We walked back to the bus station (over 3 miles), and only had to duck a couple of stones thrown. We survived the game, but I was more worried about what was to come. Dave and I had four days to get to Carnival, and 3 days on buses if everything went well. We didn't have much time to dilly-dally. We parted ways with Dane and started the first night of three on a bus north to the glory of Carnival.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Falling Off the Bottom of the World, Patagonia
We have officially reached the furthest away from home that either of us has experienced. This is the end of the Americas to the south and it could not be more drastic in it's appearance. The most interesting part of the whole Patagonia experience is the drastic changes in scenery. As is the case with this blog 99.9% of the pictures of Patagonia are of the electric blue glaciers, the huge slabs of granite, evergreen filled valleys, and crystal clear lakes.
This area is amazing and during the comfortable (but still cold) it rivals anything I have seen. The irony is that 99% of the land mass in Patagonia is more associated with the picture immediately to the right. That's right, Patagonia is mostly barren, flat, and sparsely populated with sheep. The wind that rips through here in the winter time is fierce, and even now in the summer time it can get bluster through with enough power to let you know it is still around.Dave and I flew down on tickets that we had purchased a month earlier from Bolivia. This was key strategizing by us as the number of butterflies that flew out of our wallets increased and the number of dollars was drastically diminishing.
It is a good thing that we are headed home, our mothers will be much more willing to help us if we have made a solid effort to at least START to come home. After we made the bus trip to the local tourist town we began the harder than expected search for a place to lay our heads. We ended up in this nice little spot that was full of Israelis. Dave and I looked at each other and knew we were in the right spot, because there would be no cheaper place in town. Now before you get all offended by my thinly veiled jab at the chosen people, it seemed to me that this stigma is worn like a badge of honor to them. On one occasion we were having dinner with a lovely pair if Israelis and on of them launched into a monologue about how he was so proud that he never paid full price for anything. Dave and I played dumb, trying to keep a straight face, while we jabbed each other in the ribs with our elbows as the guy explained to us that it is a characteristic (and a stereotype) that all Israelis are cheap. He even went as far to say as he enjoyed going to open air markets, "to watch the Jews try to 'out Jew' each other." (his words not mine)
I feel as though I have dug myself into a hole of digression so deep that I may not be able to write my way back out, so let us get back to not so culturally offensive bits.We spent an entire day sitting at the Perito Moreno glacier. It is one of the few glaciers in the world that is not in retreat. It is presently holding its size and for every chunk that falls of in a given year it is build back up on the mountain behind it.
We spent the day lazing in the sun watching and listening to the huge 60 ft slabs fall off into the water as we drank more wine and ate cheese, and pretending that we were more cultured than we are.Our next stop on the Patagonia Express was back in Chile. The Torres De Paine has an amazing route that is called the "W" for obvious reasons, and one must take 'Bus #11' (walking). It was a moderate 4-5 day route that we took six days to do, because it was cheaper, prettier, and did I mention cheaper to rent the camping gear and stay in the park. It was nothing but view after view after view.
The last morning before we were to hike out was the finale to the hike, if one is lucky to have a clear morning at sunrise a blur of purple, pink, and orange paint the walls of the granite towers of the actual Torres de Paine, which stretch out like the fingers of God" as it was described by the Rocky Horror Picture Show butler of a receptionist at our hostel back in town. I was sprawled out on a rock looking up at the stars realizing I was laying on "the bottom of the world" and that only a little natural phenomena called gravity was keeping me from floating off into oblivion.
I then made me realize that as a sphere every spot on this little dot of a planet is simultaneously the "top" and the "bottom" of the world and it only depends on your ego to create the perspective that each person wants to see. Unfortunately one obscure cloud blocked the direct sun light, so we did not see the colors in the morning, but the sight was impressive none the less. We hike out in relative silence as I was quite sentimental of the fact that I was now technically on my way home. It was very strong nostalgic feeling of happy to be on my way home, but having also enjoyed the trip immensely thus far. It was rather metaphorical that the sun had not come up in the ideal conditions. It represented the realness of the trip that even though everything had not gone ideally, it was still amazing and worth it. Even though mayhem of Carnival in Brazil lay ahead, I couldn't help but feel that this was the spike of the climax in the trip, and the rest is just the resolution with carnival as the last chaotic scene before the closing credits. I then asked Dave to punch me in the face, which he was more than happy to oblige without even asking why. What is a good guy friend good for if not to help you realize that enough physical pain will suppress the males Achilles's Heel: emotions.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Back In the Saddle
Alright, alright, alright!
I have been hassled by enough of you that I have finally decided to get back to bloggin'. I really do have every intention of completing stories about South America for publication here but as my father would say, "The road to 'H - E - Double hockey sticks' is paved with good intentions."
To piece together the last 4 months in a paragraph I finished my trip through South America (stories and pictures to follow), went home and had a less than fruitful job search (I concede lack of enthusiasm for seeking), saw a bunch of people that I haven't seen in ages, travel to Alaska, Cali, So. Oregon, climbed, camped, skied, gained 10 pounds, got a 2 day job painting radio towers, and then got a call from Louis Berger Group who wanted me to help with a project back in Panama ASAP. After checking my schedule for the next 20 months of my life and finding nothing of interest or any conflicts at all I said, "ummm, alright" to the job and caught a flight out.
To those reading this in the USA I apologize for my abrupt departure, it wasn't your fault. You didn't smell that bad I promise. To those in Panama I'm back baby, and have very little spare time to hang out, but give me a jingle and we can figure something out.
The most interesting part about starting with a multi-national firm is the cultural mixing that takes place here. There are project managers from Wales, engineers from the USA and Argentina, contractors from Europe, and college educate inspectors to secretaries from Panama. All of which have different expectations for roles played by employer and employee. So as I sit here typing this blog and asking myself the all important Office Space question of, "What is it, you say, ya' do here?" there are five other people in the room making about half what I make and being more productive than I am.
Another good illustration of this is when I was taken to the LBG corporate apartment where I will be staying until I find a more permanent residence. I was given the use of the office's driver and his vehicle to move my stuff from the hotel where I stayed until this could be arranged. I knew the area where the apartment was nice and furnished, so I asked the driver to help me bring up my stuff to the 13th floor where we would be able to see the canal in the distance. He was shocked to see the quality of the apartment, the view, the tasteful decorations, and the number of channels on the tv. It was a whole different world for him, and I still am not sure if he was able to process how much that place costs and put it in to terms of what he makes per month. It's such a fundamental part of his country that he doesn't even know.
The final case study I will provide for the reader is the one involving the LBG President's visit during my first week here. He had come down to visit the several large projects in the area and to give his personal welcome the new entry-level Project Engineer/Inspector. He was even so kind as to invite me and 49 of my new counterparts to a dinner at an up-scale dinner in a trendy part of town. Being the new guy I was relegated to the last seat at the last table with all the secretaries. I made a series of calculations to discover that the dinner was probably going to cost somewhere in range of $2500 which would include a nice tip. When I casually dropped this estimation it was funny to watch reactions as they calculated how much they made per month and then how many months they would have to work to GROSS what the dinner would cost.
Despite my limited knowledge about the size and scope of corporations it has been interesting to watch some eyes get big this week as they begin to imagine the quantity of money that our company makes. Those eyes would begin to glaze over if I tried to expand that quantity to the canal expansion project or the revenue growth that the canal WILL have. I now know that the growth and the potential of the money that will be created is not understood at the end of the last table, I wonder at what point moving towards the head of the first table will people appreciate what is happening, and I wonder about the quantity of Panamanians (or lack there of) who are sitting beyond that point?
I have been hassled by enough of you that I have finally decided to get back to bloggin'. I really do have every intention of completing stories about South America for publication here but as my father would say, "The road to 'H - E - Double hockey sticks' is paved with good intentions."
To piece together the last 4 months in a paragraph I finished my trip through South America (stories and pictures to follow), went home and had a less than fruitful job search (I concede lack of enthusiasm for seeking), saw a bunch of people that I haven't seen in ages, travel to Alaska, Cali, So. Oregon, climbed, camped, skied, gained 10 pounds, got a 2 day job painting radio towers, and then got a call from Louis Berger Group who wanted me to help with a project back in Panama ASAP. After checking my schedule for the next 20 months of my life and finding nothing of interest or any conflicts at all I said, "ummm, alright" to the job and caught a flight out.
To those reading this in the USA I apologize for my abrupt departure, it wasn't your fault. You didn't smell that bad I promise. To those in Panama I'm back baby, and have very little spare time to hang out, but give me a jingle and we can figure something out.
The most interesting part about starting with a multi-national firm is the cultural mixing that takes place here. There are project managers from Wales, engineers from the USA and Argentina, contractors from Europe, and college educate inspectors to secretaries from Panama. All of which have different expectations for roles played by employer and employee. So as I sit here typing this blog and asking myself the all important Office Space question of, "What is it, you say, ya' do here?" there are five other people in the room making about half what I make and being more productive than I am.
Another good illustration of this is when I was taken to the LBG corporate apartment where I will be staying until I find a more permanent residence. I was given the use of the office's driver and his vehicle to move my stuff from the hotel where I stayed until this could be arranged. I knew the area where the apartment was nice and furnished, so I asked the driver to help me bring up my stuff to the 13th floor where we would be able to see the canal in the distance. He was shocked to see the quality of the apartment, the view, the tasteful decorations, and the number of channels on the tv. It was a whole different world for him, and I still am not sure if he was able to process how much that place costs and put it in to terms of what he makes per month. It's such a fundamental part of his country that he doesn't even know.
The final case study I will provide for the reader is the one involving the LBG President's visit during my first week here. He had come down to visit the several large projects in the area and to give his personal welcome the new entry-level Project Engineer/Inspector. He was even so kind as to invite me and 49 of my new counterparts to a dinner at an up-scale dinner in a trendy part of town. Being the new guy I was relegated to the last seat at the last table with all the secretaries. I made a series of calculations to discover that the dinner was probably going to cost somewhere in range of $2500 which would include a nice tip. When I casually dropped this estimation it was funny to watch reactions as they calculated how much they made per month and then how many months they would have to work to GROSS what the dinner would cost.
Despite my limited knowledge about the size and scope of corporations it has been interesting to watch some eyes get big this week as they begin to imagine the quantity of money that our company makes. Those eyes would begin to glaze over if I tried to expand that quantity to the canal expansion project or the revenue growth that the canal WILL have. I now know that the growth and the potential of the money that will be created is not understood at the end of the last table, I wonder at what point moving towards the head of the first table will people appreciate what is happening, and I wonder about the quantity of Panamanians (or lack there of) who are sitting beyond that point?
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Oh No! Who Let These Guys Into the Wine Tasting in Mendoza, Argentina
Dave ad I together make quite the traveling duo. He's dark skinned and locals often mistake him for at least partially Latino, and there is no mistaking the fact that I am a gringo. If someone walks up to the two of us without fail they will speak to him in Spanish and me in English, always. This has had it's advantages, but one thing that always made me laugh is when I order the bottle of wine with dinner they present the bottle of wine to Dave, because he has no idea what he is doing. Dave is the type of guy that a good selection of beer is Coors Origonal and Coors Light. I adimitedly am not much better but know enough to not look like an idiot (well, any more than usual).
So knowing that we would be going to the wine capital of Argentina Dave and I took it upon orselves to do some research on the finer points in wine tasting. We were very diligent an learned a lot of vocabulary like the five S's: 1) see 2)swirl 3)sniff 4)sip 5)savor. We learned key words that are often used to describe wines that we would be sampling, for instance the Malbec often is described as tasting like violets, fruit, or beer. The Cabenet Souvignon reaks of blackcurrants, eucalyptus, chocolate, and tobacco. Beyond that, we leared other common words in wine tasting descriptions such as mown grass, minerals, pepper, bramble fruits, and (my personal favorite) pencil shavings. Besides our vocabulary, we also took it upon ourselves to practice our pretentiousness. We became so good at the whole gig that we decided that wine tasting was not abiguous and pretentious enough yet and the second day of tasting we needed to up the antee some.
So we dressed in our finest trucker hats, workout shorts, and best socks and sandles combo, rented a couple of bike, and went out to show Argentina how wine tasting should be done. Like any good taster we started with our sparking whites which Dave described as being ¨surprisingly light for its darkness.¨ Not to be out done I decided that there was no adjective that was good enough to describe the sample and thus had to describe it as being ¨violently¨. I tell you, that describes it the best.
Sample two was a good (how we pernounced it) Cab-er-ett So-vig-non, to which I went first. Just the nose of the wine made me want to faint, but I pushed through and tried it only to angrly spray down the server exclaiming, ¨Why would you serve this Nazi boot polish?¨ I bet she learned her lesson. Dave actually enjoyed both his glass and mine, and to quoth him, ¨The Maggotty cheese sensation was balanced quite well with the hysteria of the obviously new barrels. It tasted so angry white boy polka.¨
After making a couple of recomendations to the other impressed tourist for Chared-o-nayse that was comfortably numb or more accurately like Lynn's track cletes (hey sis) we moved on to the next winery. This time we were introduced to a wine that neither of us had tasted. The Pee-not No-ire was quite good. It was so very electric that I had o take my finger out of the light socket. It reminded me of a tropial beach on a fall day, and Dave of the color yellow and Bob Barker's retirement.
The cement our fame into the wine tasting history books, Dave and I pulled a move that was described to me by a wine tasting legend who shall remain nameless (but his might begin with `A´ and end with `dam Pivetta´). After going through all the S´s it was so obvious what the wine tasted like. So I opened my eyes to the gathering crowd and announced, ¨It tastes like, like, like... grapes!¨ As everyone rolled their eyes and walked away, I couldn´t help but think how accurate the description was, nor why the owners has not personally invited me to stay as their permanent wine taster. I guess they just don´t tallent if it hits them on the taste buds.
So knowing that we would be going to the wine capital of Argentina Dave and I took it upon orselves to do some research on the finer points in wine tasting. We were very diligent an learned a lot of vocabulary like the five S's: 1) see 2)swirl 3)sniff 4)sip 5)savor. We learned key words that are often used to describe wines that we would be sampling, for instance the Malbec often is described as tasting like violets, fruit, or beer. The Cabenet Souvignon reaks of blackcurrants, eucalyptus, chocolate, and tobacco. Beyond that, we leared other common words in wine tasting descriptions such as mown grass, minerals, pepper, bramble fruits, and (my personal favorite) pencil shavings. Besides our vocabulary, we also took it upon ourselves to practice our pretentiousness. We became so good at the whole gig that we decided that wine tasting was not abiguous and pretentious enough yet and the second day of tasting we needed to up the antee some.
So we dressed in our finest trucker hats, workout shorts, and best socks and sandles combo, rented a couple of bike, and went out to show Argentina how wine tasting should be done. Like any good taster we started with our sparking whites which Dave described as being ¨surprisingly light for its darkness.¨ Not to be out done I decided that there was no adjective that was good enough to describe the sample and thus had to describe it as being ¨violently¨. I tell you, that describes it the best.
Sample two was a good (how we pernounced it) Cab-er-ett So-vig-non, to which I went first. Just the nose of the wine made me want to faint, but I pushed through and tried it only to angrly spray down the server exclaiming, ¨Why would you serve this Nazi boot polish?¨ I bet she learned her lesson. Dave actually enjoyed both his glass and mine, and to quoth him, ¨The Maggotty cheese sensation was balanced quite well with the hysteria of the obviously new barrels. It tasted so angry white boy polka.¨
After making a couple of recomendations to the other impressed tourist for Chared-o-nayse that was comfortably numb or more accurately like Lynn's track cletes (hey sis) we moved on to the next winery. This time we were introduced to a wine that neither of us had tasted. The Pee-not No-ire was quite good. It was so very electric that I had o take my finger out of the light socket. It reminded me of a tropial beach on a fall day, and Dave of the color yellow and Bob Barker's retirement.
The cement our fame into the wine tasting history books, Dave and I pulled a move that was described to me by a wine tasting legend who shall remain nameless (but his might begin with `A´ and end with `dam Pivetta´). After going through all the S´s it was so obvious what the wine tasted like. So I opened my eyes to the gathering crowd and announced, ¨It tastes like, like, like... grapes!¨ As everyone rolled their eyes and walked away, I couldn´t help but think how accurate the description was, nor why the owners has not personally invited me to stay as their permanent wine taster. I guess they just don´t tallent if it hits them on the taste buds.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Final Breakdown on Chile:
Country of Origin: Bolivia
Total time in country: 56 Hours
Music: Same-same, but different from the rest
People: Very happy to take my money.
Transport: Maybe some of the best in the world.
Landscape: We saw half of the country from the bus window, and it was as if someone was playing a loop of desert scene for the entire time.
Food: Worth every cent we paid, and there were a lot of them
Safety: There were safety belts on the bus
Gas prices: 648 Chilean Pesos per Liter (5.18 US dollars per gallon)
Surprised by: The pride in the voice of a Chileno when he told me that Chile was the second most expensive country in the Americas (second to the USA)
Final word: Damn, and I mean DAMN, get me out of here and step on it!
Next stop: Argentina
Total time in country: 56 Hours
Music: Same-same, but different from the rest
People: Very happy to take my money.
Transport: Maybe some of the best in the world.
Landscape: We saw half of the country from the bus window, and it was as if someone was playing a loop of desert scene for the entire time.
Food: Worth every cent we paid, and there were a lot of them
Safety: There were safety belts on the bus
Gas prices: 648 Chilean Pesos per Liter (5.18 US dollars per gallon)
Surprised by: The pride in the voice of a Chileno when he told me that Chile was the second most expensive country in the Americas (second to the USA)
Final word: Damn, and I mean DAMN, get me out of here and step on it!
Next stop: Argentina
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
A Chile Shaped Chili
I've always wondered if Chile's namesake came from the fact that it is long and skinny. Not unlike a Chili Pepper. Then Dave ever so crudely bashed the idea to smithereens, reminding me that those who named Chile (a) don't speak English, and (b) spell the country's name differently. I still wonder though...
After living in relative comfort on pocket change in Bolivia, we were brutally awakened to the fact that Chile is in fact NOT Bolivia and prices reflected this. I'm sure there is some economic vocabulary word for the enjoyment that one gets by saving money and getting to do something cool, and therefore the opposite is also true. Case in point, while we walked around the driest desert in the world in Valle de la Luna near San Pedro de Atacama, seeing some of the most amazing countryside in the world, I couldn't help but give it a lethargic ¨yippee¨ and get easily distracted by all the other tourists that could not take enough tacky pictures of the lamest things (including themselves). I know, I know, I know! I am guilty if this as well, but at this time I couldn't help but feel sorry for all of the friends these people have back home that will have to sit through all the awful pictures (and video is worse) as these people share their trip and experiences. To my friends and family I apologize now, well in advance.
I realized though that I can't blame them. They are trying to appreciate the small time they have to appreciate the masterpiece that this country side is.
The fact that they show up, say ¨yep this is cool¨, take the tourist photo, mark it off the list, and get back on the bus to go to the next place on the list is too critical. Especially when I considered the fact that I have traveled for almost three months since finishing Peace Corps so to some degree this slump I appear to be in should be normal. The more time one spends admiring something the less impressive the next thing gets. It's like walking through the Louve, the Vatican, or the Smithsonians. Eventually everyone gets to the point where they go, ¨Oh, another masterpiece, who wants a beer?¨ But then I remember what my other options are. Suddenly I feel like I may have missed something, maybe I'll go back for a second look.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Final Breakdown on Bolivia:
Country of Origin: Peru
Total time in country: 24 Days
Music: The national Andean music was a little hokey and redundent, but all the independent music was great.
People: They are friendly, helpful, and honest. They haven't figued out that they can charge a tourist more than a paisano.
Transport: You pay for what you get. We were only on a paved road for five of the 40+ hours of traveling we did.
Landscape: In the western half we saw all the different regions of Bolivia from marshland/jungle, to beautiful mountains, to high desert salt plains.
Food: As much as I wanted to continue to eat ceviche I thought it may not be the best idea in a land locked country. Llama and alpaca were good, but I still perfer goat to them.
Safety: I think the Bolivians were more worried about our saftey than we were.
Gas prices: 3.50 Bolivian Pesos per liter (2 US dollars per gallon)
Surprised by: It was harder to get an entry visa from the Brazilian Government than it was from the Bolivian Government
Final word: Bolivia (sometimes called the 4th World) is a great place with cheap everything and a range of things to see. It was a good vibe from a people that are still unjaded to the tourist, but I could see it changing within the next five years.
Next stop: Chile
Total time in country: 24 Days
Music: The national Andean music was a little hokey and redundent, but all the independent music was great.
People: They are friendly, helpful, and honest. They haven't figued out that they can charge a tourist more than a paisano.
Transport: You pay for what you get. We were only on a paved road for five of the 40+ hours of traveling we did.
Landscape: In the western half we saw all the different regions of Bolivia from marshland/jungle, to beautiful mountains, to high desert salt plains.
Food: As much as I wanted to continue to eat ceviche I thought it may not be the best idea in a land locked country. Llama and alpaca were good, but I still perfer goat to them.
Safety: I think the Bolivians were more worried about our saftey than we were.
Gas prices: 3.50 Bolivian Pesos per liter (2 US dollars per gallon)
Surprised by: It was harder to get an entry visa from the Brazilian Government than it was from the Bolivian Government
Final word: Bolivia (sometimes called the 4th World) is a great place with cheap everything and a range of things to see. It was a good vibe from a people that are still unjaded to the tourist, but I could see it changing within the next five years.
Next stop: Chile
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Will You Pass the Pepper With the Salt House in Uyuni
We made it back to La Paz for the new year. After spending a week trapped there we figured we knew all the ropes to make for a good night out, but due to some bad Cuban food I was sadly in bed at 10:30 pm wondering why it felt like there was a three hundred pound midget sitting on my stomach trying to rip out his circus partner from inside my intestines.
Our escape from La Paz was finalized despite the scare of a blockade on the road we were traveling. After the all nigth bus we climbed right onto an SUV and trip through the southern Bolivian salt flats, through the mountains, and finally to grandmother Chile's house.For the advertised salt flat tour of three days we spent a total of four hours actually on the salt flats. Of these four hours three were spent in the car waiting for the rain to stop. The rest of the trip we spent in the truck doing stupid calculations because honestly there was nothing better to do. According to the guide, the salt flats cover 12000 square km (slightly smaller than Connecticut), and at the deepest points get up to six to seven meters thick (20 ft).
That is a lot of salt that is farmed to sell for household use all over South America. How much salt you ask, there is so much salt that they cut it up to use as bricks to make houses, tables, chairs, and gravel sized salt is use floor hotels. It was certainly strange, and the most surreal location we had been since the floating reed islands on Lake Titicaca. The salt flat is created from two tectonic plates move together, isolating an ocean, elevating and drying it over time. The ocean at the point of being closed off in Bolivia would be roughly the size of all the great lakes put together, or 100 times as big as the Great Salt Lake in Utah assuming they started with the same salinity. It weights roughly 34060 Tg (tetra grams, X 10^12), or enough to give each person on the planet 5500 Kilograms (11000lbs) of salt (almost an H2 Hummer and a half). If you were to farm all the salt for building, it would be possible to build 10,000 Hoover Dams.
I realize that salt would not be the best material choice for a dam, but it gives you an idea of the size. Please make all the ¨engi-nerd¨ jokes you want. They are well deserved and very doubtful there would be anything I had not heard before. I really don't know of a better time killer for the rest of the two and a half day trip through the high desert to the border. Honestly I am just relieved we got out of La Paz.
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