I was not disciplined enough to blog on a daily basis during this trip, so this one will be a quick retrospective. All in all, we had a fantastic journey, and each day seemed to have its own defining moment or two.
Buenos Aires is absolutely huge. There aren't skyscrapers like in Manhatten and Chicago and the Asian cities, but just lots and lots of really massive, tall buildings and even more 50's-style skinny semi-high-rise apartment buildings as well as plenty of impressive ultra-modern new construction. We did alot of walking, exploring the fantastic night-life in the Recoleta neighborhood where we had dinner at a micro-brewery, as well as the impressive recently established Puerto Madero area along the water where we shared an ice cream at one of the omnipresent Freddo's. With the city being so enormous, and our limited time there, we thought it would be wise to do a bus tour, and thus got to experience a number of other neighborhoods including La Boca, Retiro, Palermo, San Telmo, and of course El Centro where our hotel was. We walked across the widest boulevard in the world (Avenida 9 de Julio) a number of times, and walked Avenida Florida many times as well with it's famous Pacifico Gallerias mall and shopping district. One night, we ventured out for a Tango dinner show at "Señor Tango's" and not only was the food fantastic (Argentinian Bife Chorizo for me and Trout for Vee), and the venue, service, and costumes spectacular, but the Tango show was absolutely extraordinary...HIGHLY RECOMMENDED! The city is a glutten's paradise with eaterie after eaterie, block after block. However, as has been my experience thus far in S.A., the regional beer breweries have monopoly control of their respective markets and thus, there is no beer selection: Pilsen and Quilmes are it; and in Uruguay, it's only Patricia, Zillertal and Pilsen. On the downside, the city has absolutely heart-wrenching slums, and is quite dirty. The people we encountered everywhere were for the most part very polite and friendly, and took very good care of us.
Montevideo, a 45 minute flight across the river from B.A., has a more romantic feel to it, being more prominently waterfront on the mouth of the same Rio de la Plata. It is located in yet another time zone though, making it two hours ahead of Cochabamba, Bolivia, and one hour ahead of Buenos Aires. The neighborhood where we stayed is called Pocitos, and is a special place for us, since this is the city where Vee spent the first year and half of her professional career abroad, and also the place where we "met" through the Internet. Pocitos is beautiful with it's tree-lined streets, mid-rise apartment buildings with long rectangular terraces, and corner shops and cafes. The action though, is on the beach, where there was no end to the fútbol, and volleyball games in the sand. We walked all over the city, down the main avenue with shopping and street vendors, to the market area, and visiting some of the wonderfully green little plazas with fountains and sculptures. Many of the people in Uruguay, and Argentina for that matter, carry a thermos of máte (a tea-like drink) under their arm while sipping it through a metal straw in the bulbous "mug" that they're holding. One night we had a delicious waterfront dinner at a place that Vee used to frequent with her fellow consultants, and another night, we ate at the place that was her favorite restaurant while she was working there. The people of Uruguay are fantastic, as they were always very attentive, friendly and would even speak English with us when they found out we were visiting from the U.S. It is a VERY windy city though.
Lastly, Punta del Este, Uruguay, was our final destination, a 2 hour bus ride up the coast from Montevideo, and my (our?) favorite of the 3 cities. The beaches were neverending in all directions, the water on the Atlantic side was a beautiful blue green, the reddish-brown rocky coves were awe-inspiring, and the progressive architecture of the surrounding homes, resorts, condos and apartment buildings was extraordinary. There were plenty of restaurants to choose from, and lots of surrounding "pueblos" to explore, which we did on a rented "moto". One night, we got caught in a horrible rain-storm, and attempted unsuccessfully to wait it out under a little kiosk, but had to eventually make a mad dash for a fancy restaurant across the street, arriving soaked through, but happilly attended to regardless, and were treated to an exquisite meal (...and a dry shirt). Another night, we just drank wine and ate cheese and chocolate, and watched the sun go down on the beach. Another night, we walked the port/marina area and had a delicious (but way overpriced) seafood meal. The weather was sketchy but for one day, where we spent the whole day cruising the coastline on our rented moto-scooter and exploring little coastal nooks and crannies. The other days, we spent our time walking the downtown area, etc. We discovered a few places serving our favorite "Illy" coffee so of course we had to partake a few times. Again, the people were fantastic, everywhere. Especially the guy at the front desk of our hotel, of Russian descent. The hotel was a wonderfully intimate place, and despite being a descent hike from downtown, was only a block from the beach. The problem with PdE, is that it is too far away from everything, and too expensive and involved to travel to. And, so I understand, in high-season, it is absolutely mobbed and pretty nuts. We were lucky, as it was still not high-season and thus everything was quiet and just how we like it. A wonderful place we'd enjoy visiting again, hopefully when we can get there and return home more directly and less-expensively. Absolutely beautiful, but not a year-round destination due to it's latitude.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Friday, December 8, 2006
Bolivia - Beautiful Graduation Amidst a Hellstorm
In 1990, when my senior high school graduation ceremony was cut short by rain, it was if nothing else, a memorable occasion. Last night was Vanessa’s graduation (Vee’s youngest sibling/sister), and the storm that engulfed that ceremony made the recollection of my own graduation rain storm seem like a light summer drizzle.
Things were going wonderfully, with the parents ceremoniously walking their proud newly graduated sons and daughters down the center aisle to accept their diplomas, have their tassel flipped from one side of their cap to the other, frozen momentarily for the obligatory snapshots, and then directed to have a seat next to their other cap-and-gowned pals. We the friends and family members were comfortably seated in rows of white plastic chairs happily chatting away, people-watching, popping up and down and moving around to navigate the best angle for our digital cameras and video cams. It was a very pleasant atmosphere outside beneath the sturdy yellow steel-pillar and silvery corrugated aluminum roofed canopy where during the school day, the students probably played futbol(soccer) or baloncesto(basketball).
Then, the dark night sky began to flash. The soothing breeze soon intensified into gusts of wind that blew the decorations hanging from above back and forth while the curtains behind the stage whipped at the legs of the administration folks seated there. And, like a bugle call to a cavalry charge in battle, a piercing crack of thunder announced the onslaught of a storm sweeping in from the peaks of the Andes above. Only moments later, just as the caps were being tossed into the air, all hell from above broke loose.
The wind grew stronger still, and the rain that initially, somewhat harmlessly, pelted away at the metal roof quickly turned into sheets of frozen buckshot that blasted away at what now seemed like a flimsy layer of aluminum foil over our heads. The ferocity of the storm continued to build and with the graduation ceremony now officially over, the graduates, the audience and the white plastic chairs formed one clotted mass of confusion and bewilderment with nowhere to go, trapped by a canopy of ice and rain. The water began to break through the roof and drove the mass of people and plastic into slightly more defined smaller herds huddling to stay dry. By then, an inch or two of water was washing over the concrete floor and many of the “mujeres” began to stand on top of the chairs while the wheels of solution-engineering turned in the minds of the “señores” who were trying to formulate escape routes for their families.
Gradually, packs began to break away from the crowd, making desperate runs for the relative comfort of the vehicles parked outside campus on a steep slope pointing skyward. We finally decided to make a run for it and were immediately drenched as we navigated icy concrete and mud-slicked rocky sidewalks covered with sleet. Rivers of rainwater gushed down the hillside through crevices and spilled into the street where people were cramming inside the rapidly opening-and-slamming doors of foggy SUVs, pick-ups, Bugs, and Brasilias. With the rivers of muddy water came rocks, walls of them, blocking roads and re-routing water and debris to make every way out impassible. The narrow road where 9 of us were stuffed into Papi’s brand new white Montero was jammed for over an hour before cars finally begin picking their way down the hill. The first road we took was blocked by rushing water and newly dislocated layers of rock that tumbled down from the mountains in angry torrents of mud and sludge. The 2nd and 3rd roads were blocked too. Papi was communicating intermittently with Chris and Juber via cell phone to see what kind of progress they were making in their truck.
Finally, after numerous attempts at various routes, we made it out and eventually home. Lines of industrial looking trucks were queued where previously passable roads had existed, and people stood around outside, displaced, trying to make sense of what was happening. Upon arrival at the Delgadillo home, there was no electricity, so we burned candles and huddled together sharing delicious food that Mami had cooked, and drinks of whiskey, dulce de leche liqueur, and white wine that Juber and Papi were jovially serving up. At 1 in the morning, Papi safely delivered Vee and I to our condo where the elevators were non-functional but all else seemed intact. The rain had stopped, but the foreboding approach of morning lay ahead, and we knew that when the sun came up, the true destruction of the storm would be revealed. Exhausted, we slept.
In the morning, we learned through the online version of Los Tiempos that so far, 4 people have been killed, and numbers more are missing. It is being said that last night’s storm was the worst here in twenty years, and the third worst in the last 50. And of course, it was all perfectly timed to coincide with the South American Community of Nations Summit that Evo Morales is hosting next door at Hotel Portales where the most important leaders and ambassadors from all of South America and abroad are congregating. The city is awash in water, mud and rock, while hundreds if not thousands of workers hired to clean it up are busily trying to get things back into shape for the important visitors who will be here the next few days. Vee tried to go to the gym, but it was flooded. The nice restaurants on the boulevard where foreign dignitaries will be wanting to dine this weekend are attempting to dig out from the mud. It was only a few days ago where the same scene unfolded, and that was a far less violent storm. Let’s hope the worst is over. Tonight, for Vanessa’s graduation “prom” party, we are keeping our fingers crossed for clearer skies…conejitos!
You can see pictures from graduation here. And a few shots of the area around our condo the morning after here.
Things were going wonderfully, with the parents ceremoniously walking their proud newly graduated sons and daughters down the center aisle to accept their diplomas, have their tassel flipped from one side of their cap to the other, frozen momentarily for the obligatory snapshots, and then directed to have a seat next to their other cap-and-gowned pals. We the friends and family members were comfortably seated in rows of white plastic chairs happily chatting away, people-watching, popping up and down and moving around to navigate the best angle for our digital cameras and video cams. It was a very pleasant atmosphere outside beneath the sturdy yellow steel-pillar and silvery corrugated aluminum roofed canopy where during the school day, the students probably played futbol(soccer) or baloncesto(basketball).
Then, the dark night sky began to flash. The soothing breeze soon intensified into gusts of wind that blew the decorations hanging from above back and forth while the curtains behind the stage whipped at the legs of the administration folks seated there. And, like a bugle call to a cavalry charge in battle, a piercing crack of thunder announced the onslaught of a storm sweeping in from the peaks of the Andes above. Only moments later, just as the caps were being tossed into the air, all hell from above broke loose.
The wind grew stronger still, and the rain that initially, somewhat harmlessly, pelted away at the metal roof quickly turned into sheets of frozen buckshot that blasted away at what now seemed like a flimsy layer of aluminum foil over our heads. The ferocity of the storm continued to build and with the graduation ceremony now officially over, the graduates, the audience and the white plastic chairs formed one clotted mass of confusion and bewilderment with nowhere to go, trapped by a canopy of ice and rain. The water began to break through the roof and drove the mass of people and plastic into slightly more defined smaller herds huddling to stay dry. By then, an inch or two of water was washing over the concrete floor and many of the “mujeres” began to stand on top of the chairs while the wheels of solution-engineering turned in the minds of the “señores” who were trying to formulate escape routes for their families.
Gradually, packs began to break away from the crowd, making desperate runs for the relative comfort of the vehicles parked outside campus on a steep slope pointing skyward. We finally decided to make a run for it and were immediately drenched as we navigated icy concrete and mud-slicked rocky sidewalks covered with sleet. Rivers of rainwater gushed down the hillside through crevices and spilled into the street where people were cramming inside the rapidly opening-and-slamming doors of foggy SUVs, pick-ups, Bugs, and Brasilias. With the rivers of muddy water came rocks, walls of them, blocking roads and re-routing water and debris to make every way out impassible. The narrow road where 9 of us were stuffed into Papi’s brand new white Montero was jammed for over an hour before cars finally begin picking their way down the hill. The first road we took was blocked by rushing water and newly dislocated layers of rock that tumbled down from the mountains in angry torrents of mud and sludge. The 2nd and 3rd roads were blocked too. Papi was communicating intermittently with Chris and Juber via cell phone to see what kind of progress they were making in their truck.
Finally, after numerous attempts at various routes, we made it out and eventually home. Lines of industrial looking trucks were queued where previously passable roads had existed, and people stood around outside, displaced, trying to make sense of what was happening. Upon arrival at the Delgadillo home, there was no electricity, so we burned candles and huddled together sharing delicious food that Mami had cooked, and drinks of whiskey, dulce de leche liqueur, and white wine that Juber and Papi were jovially serving up. At 1 in the morning, Papi safely delivered Vee and I to our condo where the elevators were non-functional but all else seemed intact. The rain had stopped, but the foreboding approach of morning lay ahead, and we knew that when the sun came up, the true destruction of the storm would be revealed. Exhausted, we slept.
In the morning, we learned through the online version of Los Tiempos that so far, 4 people have been killed, and numbers more are missing. It is being said that last night’s storm was the worst here in twenty years, and the third worst in the last 50. And of course, it was all perfectly timed to coincide with the South American Community of Nations Summit that Evo Morales is hosting next door at Hotel Portales where the most important leaders and ambassadors from all of South America and abroad are congregating. The city is awash in water, mud and rock, while hundreds if not thousands of workers hired to clean it up are busily trying to get things back into shape for the important visitors who will be here the next few days. Vee tried to go to the gym, but it was flooded. The nice restaurants on the boulevard where foreign dignitaries will be wanting to dine this weekend are attempting to dig out from the mud. It was only a few days ago where the same scene unfolded, and that was a far less violent storm. Let’s hope the worst is over. Tonight, for Vanessa’s graduation “prom” party, we are keeping our fingers crossed for clearer skies…conejitos!
You can see pictures from graduation here. And a few shots of the area around our condo the morning after here.
Sunday, December 3, 2006
Bolivia - Wilstermann Campeones!!!
Today, was the futbol Super Bowl of Bolivia. The Wilstemann, of Cochabamba, beat an excellent team from Potosi, 2 goals to 1 in a dramatic final full of scary injuries, a few yellow cards and lots of emotion. Vee's father and brother Chris tried to buy tickets for the game, but it was sold-out, so we all got together to watch it at D'Kaffe downstairs. This is the first championship the Wilstermann have won in about 10 years, and the city is celebrating like mad. Outside, I hear the cars passing beeping 3 times for "Wil - ster - mann" and everyone is wearing their team colors of red-white-and-blue, including Vee and I of course. We are so excited to have been here for such a huge victory and to have experienced a few of the games this season "en vive" against Santa Cruz, and La Paz. Now, if we could only get those Philadelphia Eagles to follow-up with an NFL Super Bowl victory...
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Bolivia - Magazine Article Translation - What an Exercise!!!
A few weeks ago, we were in the supermarket, checking out, and just like at home, there were alot of magazines in racks next to the counter. I saw one that looked interesting, and was prominently displayed in front, called "America XXI". On the front cover, it had headlines that read “Zionism – The Nazism of Today”, “Uruguay Extensive Front – Crossroads”, “Bush encourages a blow in Venezuela”, “The Church that Conspires in Argentina”, so needless to say, it caught my attention. A few days later, when I finally had time to flip through it, I found an article that I thought if I could translate, would provide me with a formidable exercise for my slowing improving Spanish knowledge, and also give me a chance to learn about the views of the U.S. from down here. Once I finally begain my translation project, I was about mid-way through when I realized that what I had in my hands was Venezuelan propoganda, obviously. Or, as it is known in the U.S., the news. Anyway, it became obvious that this magazine, and specifically the article I had chosen to translate, were from a VERY Venezuelan paradigm. So, here it is, in its verbose entirety: "The South Facing Zionism and the Bellicose Imperialist", By Luis Bilbao:
America XXI – From Venezuela for the whole continent – September 2006
Headlines include:
“Zionism – The Nazism of Today”
“Uruguay Extensive Front – Crossroads”
“Bush encourages a blow in Venezuela”
“The Church that Conspires in Argentina”
The South Facing Zionism and the Bellicose Imperialist
By Luis Bilbao
War: Israel was defeated in military terms in Lebanon. But the United States, seen by
the entire world as responsible for the aggression, suffered a political rout of enormous
strategic meaning: Washington as the capital of democracy and the future has finally
been buried in international opinion. These reversals do not stop the military machine.
Already, aggressions are in motion against Iran and Syria, as always with the Zionist
State as the arrowhead. Meeting in Havana from Sept.11-16, the Non-Aligned Movement
assumed the responsibility to impede a war that plants incalculable risks to humanity.
“I feel a light shake in the airplane, when the bombs free themselves. A second, and
that’s all. That is what I feel.” It is with this repugnant cynicism that the commander of
the Israeli air force, Dan Halutz, responded when a journalist inquired about his feelings
after an F-16 bombarded a building in Salah Shehadeh in the early morning of July 22.
The operation was supposedly destined to destroy a Hamas base, nevertheless it killed 15
civilians, 11 of them children. It was only the beginning of five weeks of bombardments
from the air, land and sea on the civil population of Lebanon.
An editorial from the New York Times - hypocritical, yet eloquent - it added key data: in
Palestine and Lebanon, Israel utilized fragmentation bombs, manufactured by the United
States. These arms, said the NYT, “are utilized against tanks, massive conventional
weapons and other strictly military objectives. But never should they be used in
populated areas. Naturally, they kill indiscriminately. Because some bombs do not
explode on impact, the victims continue to be killed long after the fight ceases. These
apparently inoffensive objects, often no larger than a battery, explode when you touch or
move them. Children confuse them with toys, with tragic results.”
Despite everything, Dan Halutz has his sensitive side: hours before initiating the
invasion, in the same moment that he was sending his own soldiers to death, this high
military leader occupied himself with selling stocks on the Tel Aviv stock market to
avoid the financial loss that would result from the war.
Summarized in Halutz, is the predominant moral degradation of the Israeli high
command, that explains in good measure, the humiliating of an army with a reputation of
being invincible. After a month of unmatched savagery against the civil population,
Israel discovered to its amazement that the military operation in itself had been an
extraordinary blunder: "We did not we have water. We forgot to bring food. For several
days, we had only a slice of bread. It was the worst experience of my life", explained
Alon Gelnik, an infantry soldier accustomed to being before the mass media.
It is not about anecdotes. This alienating conduct expresses a political reality and an
ideology. It explains the character of the war unleashed in the Middle East and the role
that the United States has bookmarked for Israel in this chapter that has recently begun.
With society divided down the middle, and under the double emotional impact of the
atrocities committed by its armed forces and the impossibility of defeating Hezbollah,
Israel has already assumed a debate that presses. The people of Jewish origin or religion
have before itself a reality that does not admit subterfuge: the Zionism of the 21st century
is Nazism. For its brutality, certainly, and for the absolute contempt of all humanity, but
above all, because it is the ideology with which imperialism goes to a war that plants
risks of world catastrophe.
To The Search for Justification
Hamas has never gone to war without ideological justification. In the most recent period,
the Department of State appealed to the defense of democracy and world peace,
supposedly threatened by "international terrorism", to invade Afghanistan and Iraq. The
exposition of the lies manufactured by the Goebbels-ian apparatus of American
propaganda, added to the situation for the occupying troops with no way out of Iraq, has
demolished that framework in little time: in a turn losing control of the situation, the
planetary network of informative intoxication mounted by the imperialist, shown by
television to thousands of millions of people, the true role U.S. in Iraq, in Palestine, and
in Lebanon: the bombardment of cities, the death of children and unarmed civilians, the
forced evacuation of hundreds of thousands of people. "The war in Iraq has cost some of
the popularity of United States" the secretary of State Condoleezza Rice admitted in
Germany. She explained that in the future we will work harder so that American politics
will be understood. "We have to speak with the people in Middle East and not offer
monologues. We need to have more contact with the people, particularly with the youth"
she said with her habitual grimace.
But there is no way to justify the militaristic dementia of the U.S.; to nobody, and much
less to the youth in Middle East or wherever.
It is here where the role of Zionism comes into play: the supposed defense of territory for
the Jewish settlement is the imperialist instrument to go to the war in the 21st century.
And if in the past there was space so that people of democratic and progressive
convictions confuse the defense of the Israeli State with the cause of the Jewish
settlement, from now own the delimitations will be categorical, because it has remained
clear in the last month, the methods employed by the Israeli authorities rival the Nazi
atrocities during the second world war.
End of the Regressive Phase
With the fall of the Soviet Union an ideological regression that came from long before
took over and did not leave any ideological position safe. On the threshold of the 21st
century the world seemed to enter into a second medieval period. While astute
booksellers announced the end of imperialism, the loss of meaning of the fight by the
political power, the expiration of the political action and of course of the parties, the
unfathomable victory of capital over any other historic variation, all in name of the last
modernity, the "condemned of the land" grew in number and resorted to the instruments
they had at hand in each case to resist. Forms of extreme religiousness reappeared,
presented as mere fanaticism by skeptical, aseptic intellectuals and, of course,
progressives. The current unfeasibility of the revolution was declared in shrill paradoxes
and contradictions difficult to disentangle.
That period has ended, or at least it has taken a qualitative leap forward. The surprise of
the world by the military capacity of Hezbollah, the perplexity of Israeli society before
the evidence of an unexpected fiasco, the phenomenon of aggregation that the war
produced in Lebanon joining with Muslims, Christian and lay-socialists in a unique
victorious front, permits us to measure at the same time the magnitude of the lack of
understanding regarding what occurred in the world during the last 25 years and the
distance crossed after an alternative history.
Although barely intelligible in the muddled surface of international reality, already under
way is a re-composition of the dynamics in all the plans. The logical terms are invested:
Before a social confrontation is used to go without organization, without politics, without
strategy and of course without ideological identity. Far from condemning the rationality,
nevertheless, this picture presents the profound coherence of two forces in a head-on
collision of global scale, each one trying practical and theoretical axes of re-composition
for the action. The motor that moves both to the structural crisis is the world capitalist
system.
In this unpublished historic conjuncture, the meeting of 116 member countries and 20
observers of the movement six decades behind called "the non-aligned" constitutes a
formidable point of support to draw the courses of a new phase. The need to impede the
war will be a powerful point of union in that assembly of extreme heterogeneousness.
The reappearance of the Mnoal, in an anachronistic sense and in another original, is a key
fact of the world political future and the results that are obtained will be determinants.
Yet it is not known if Fidel Castro, the architect of this encounter, has been present in the
sessions. But nobody doubts that its ideology and its socialist proposal are again on the
horizon of a world that seeks answers.
America XXI – From Venezuela for the whole continent – September 2006
Headlines include:
“Zionism – The Nazism of Today”
“Uruguay Extensive Front – Crossroads”
“Bush encourages a blow in Venezuela”
“The Church that Conspires in Argentina”
The South Facing Zionism and the Bellicose Imperialist
By Luis Bilbao
War: Israel was defeated in military terms in Lebanon. But the United States, seen by
the entire world as responsible for the aggression, suffered a political rout of enormous
strategic meaning: Washington as the capital of democracy and the future has finally
been buried in international opinion. These reversals do not stop the military machine.
Already, aggressions are in motion against Iran and Syria, as always with the Zionist
State as the arrowhead. Meeting in Havana from Sept.11-16, the Non-Aligned Movement
assumed the responsibility to impede a war that plants incalculable risks to humanity.
“I feel a light shake in the airplane, when the bombs free themselves. A second, and
that’s all. That is what I feel.” It is with this repugnant cynicism that the commander of
the Israeli air force, Dan Halutz, responded when a journalist inquired about his feelings
after an F-16 bombarded a building in Salah Shehadeh in the early morning of July 22.
The operation was supposedly destined to destroy a Hamas base, nevertheless it killed 15
civilians, 11 of them children. It was only the beginning of five weeks of bombardments
from the air, land and sea on the civil population of Lebanon.
An editorial from the New York Times - hypocritical, yet eloquent - it added key data: in
Palestine and Lebanon, Israel utilized fragmentation bombs, manufactured by the United
States. These arms, said the NYT, “are utilized against tanks, massive conventional
weapons and other strictly military objectives. But never should they be used in
populated areas. Naturally, they kill indiscriminately. Because some bombs do not
explode on impact, the victims continue to be killed long after the fight ceases. These
apparently inoffensive objects, often no larger than a battery, explode when you touch or
move them. Children confuse them with toys, with tragic results.”
Despite everything, Dan Halutz has his sensitive side: hours before initiating the
invasion, in the same moment that he was sending his own soldiers to death, this high
military leader occupied himself with selling stocks on the Tel Aviv stock market to
avoid the financial loss that would result from the war.
Summarized in Halutz, is the predominant moral degradation of the Israeli high
command, that explains in good measure, the humiliating of an army with a reputation of
being invincible. After a month of unmatched savagery against the civil population,
Israel discovered to its amazement that the military operation in itself had been an
extraordinary blunder: "We did not we have water. We forgot to bring food. For several
days, we had only a slice of bread. It was the worst experience of my life", explained
Alon Gelnik, an infantry soldier accustomed to being before the mass media.
It is not about anecdotes. This alienating conduct expresses a political reality and an
ideology. It explains the character of the war unleashed in the Middle East and the role
that the United States has bookmarked for Israel in this chapter that has recently begun.
With society divided down the middle, and under the double emotional impact of the
atrocities committed by its armed forces and the impossibility of defeating Hezbollah,
Israel has already assumed a debate that presses. The people of Jewish origin or religion
have before itself a reality that does not admit subterfuge: the Zionism of the 21st century
is Nazism. For its brutality, certainly, and for the absolute contempt of all humanity, but
above all, because it is the ideology with which imperialism goes to a war that plants
risks of world catastrophe.
To The Search for Justification
Hamas has never gone to war without ideological justification. In the most recent period,
the Department of State appealed to the defense of democracy and world peace,
supposedly threatened by "international terrorism", to invade Afghanistan and Iraq. The
exposition of the lies manufactured by the Goebbels-ian apparatus of American
propaganda, added to the situation for the occupying troops with no way out of Iraq, has
demolished that framework in little time: in a turn losing control of the situation, the
planetary network of informative intoxication mounted by the imperialist, shown by
television to thousands of millions of people, the true role U.S. in Iraq, in Palestine, and
in Lebanon: the bombardment of cities, the death of children and unarmed civilians, the
forced evacuation of hundreds of thousands of people. "The war in Iraq has cost some of
the popularity of United States" the secretary of State Condoleezza Rice admitted in
Germany. She explained that in the future we will work harder so that American politics
will be understood. "We have to speak with the people in Middle East and not offer
monologues. We need to have more contact with the people, particularly with the youth"
she said with her habitual grimace.
But there is no way to justify the militaristic dementia of the U.S.; to nobody, and much
less to the youth in Middle East or wherever.
It is here where the role of Zionism comes into play: the supposed defense of territory for
the Jewish settlement is the imperialist instrument to go to the war in the 21st century.
And if in the past there was space so that people of democratic and progressive
convictions confuse the defense of the Israeli State with the cause of the Jewish
settlement, from now own the delimitations will be categorical, because it has remained
clear in the last month, the methods employed by the Israeli authorities rival the Nazi
atrocities during the second world war.
End of the Regressive Phase
With the fall of the Soviet Union an ideological regression that came from long before
took over and did not leave any ideological position safe. On the threshold of the 21st
century the world seemed to enter into a second medieval period. While astute
booksellers announced the end of imperialism, the loss of meaning of the fight by the
political power, the expiration of the political action and of course of the parties, the
unfathomable victory of capital over any other historic variation, all in name of the last
modernity, the "condemned of the land" grew in number and resorted to the instruments
they had at hand in each case to resist. Forms of extreme religiousness reappeared,
presented as mere fanaticism by skeptical, aseptic intellectuals and, of course,
progressives. The current unfeasibility of the revolution was declared in shrill paradoxes
and contradictions difficult to disentangle.
That period has ended, or at least it has taken a qualitative leap forward. The surprise of
the world by the military capacity of Hezbollah, the perplexity of Israeli society before
the evidence of an unexpected fiasco, the phenomenon of aggregation that the war
produced in Lebanon joining with Muslims, Christian and lay-socialists in a unique
victorious front, permits us to measure at the same time the magnitude of the lack of
understanding regarding what occurred in the world during the last 25 years and the
distance crossed after an alternative history.
Although barely intelligible in the muddled surface of international reality, already under
way is a re-composition of the dynamics in all the plans. The logical terms are invested:
Before a social confrontation is used to go without organization, without politics, without
strategy and of course without ideological identity. Far from condemning the rationality,
nevertheless, this picture presents the profound coherence of two forces in a head-on
collision of global scale, each one trying practical and theoretical axes of re-composition
for the action. The motor that moves both to the structural crisis is the world capitalist
system.
In this unpublished historic conjuncture, the meeting of 116 member countries and 20
observers of the movement six decades behind called "the non-aligned" constitutes a
formidable point of support to draw the courses of a new phase. The need to impede the
war will be a powerful point of union in that assembly of extreme heterogeneousness.
The reappearance of the Mnoal, in an anachronistic sense and in another original, is a key
fact of the world political future and the results that are obtained will be determinants.
Yet it is not known if Fidel Castro, the architect of this encounter, has been present in the
sessions. But nobody doubts that its ideology and its socialist proposal are again on the
horizon of a world that seeks answers.
Wednesday, November 8, 2006
Bolivia - The U.S. Election
I don't see anyone dancing out in the streets of Cochabamba today, but I feel like heading out there myself and doing a happy jig of my own.
In my opinion, today is the best day the United States of America has had in 10 years.
It was in November 1996 when the Presidential election results confirmed Bill Clinton's victory over Bob Dole. Since then, we've had the Lewinksy scandal, the Whitewater scandal, a grueling dishonorable impeachment of our President, a financial market implosion and economic meltdown, a stolen Presidential election, unprecedented levels of corporate corruption and felony, an unthinkable terrorist attack on our own soil, a squandered budget surplus, an inept statement and adoption of foreign policy, fiscally irresponsible tax cuts, blundered war campaigns under false pretenses, horrific natural disasters, political scandals of all kinds, energy crises, and an environmental timebomb all of which are resulting in an unimaginable 8 year term for an administration having some of the lowest approval ratings ever recorded, an expensive, tragic, quagmire of a war in Iraq, an economy very possibly running on fumes, and depressingly, our country's severely eroded stature in the eyes of the world.
Today though, there is hope. There is a reason to celebrate. There is change, and it should be clear to all who care to notice, that change is needed. I really couldn't care less if Democrats control the House and Senate, or if Independents would. But, to continue down the path that the Republican party has torched since the Congressional Republican revolution of 1994, most noticeably under Bush's leadership(?), would certainly lead us deeper into the ditch we've already dug ourselves into. I have no idea if the Democrats will do any better. However, I feel that they couldn't possibly do any worse, and it seems there are alot of people out there thinking the same way.
I am happy, and I am hopeful about our country, today. It will take a while, if we so desire, for our country to right the wrongs of its recent past. But, with the clear message our voters sent today, there are reasons to believe it can happen.
We need to lead the world in developing profitable technologies, and personal and business behaviors that reverse and nullify the catastrophic environmental impact our country has had on the world. We need to recognize and embrace the notion that there are other countries having larger populations than us, having similar or greater global impact than us, having sometimes conflicting interests and/or values than ours. We need to set the standard for ethical governance, business practice, and cultural behavior at home and abroad so that our presence on the world stage is welcomed again without cynicism.
Nothing our country needs to do is impossible. In fact, I'm confident it's all been done before. We just need a re-fresher. Today is that day. Be excited, very excited. I am.
In my opinion, today is the best day the United States of America has had in 10 years.
It was in November 1996 when the Presidential election results confirmed Bill Clinton's victory over Bob Dole. Since then, we've had the Lewinksy scandal, the Whitewater scandal, a grueling dishonorable impeachment of our President, a financial market implosion and economic meltdown, a stolen Presidential election, unprecedented levels of corporate corruption and felony, an unthinkable terrorist attack on our own soil, a squandered budget surplus, an inept statement and adoption of foreign policy, fiscally irresponsible tax cuts, blundered war campaigns under false pretenses, horrific natural disasters, political scandals of all kinds, energy crises, and an environmental timebomb all of which are resulting in an unimaginable 8 year term for an administration having some of the lowest approval ratings ever recorded, an expensive, tragic, quagmire of a war in Iraq, an economy very possibly running on fumes, and depressingly, our country's severely eroded stature in the eyes of the world.
Today though, there is hope. There is a reason to celebrate. There is change, and it should be clear to all who care to notice, that change is needed. I really couldn't care less if Democrats control the House and Senate, or if Independents would. But, to continue down the path that the Republican party has torched since the Congressional Republican revolution of 1994, most noticeably under Bush's leadership(?), would certainly lead us deeper into the ditch we've already dug ourselves into. I have no idea if the Democrats will do any better. However, I feel that they couldn't possibly do any worse, and it seems there are alot of people out there thinking the same way.
I am happy, and I am hopeful about our country, today. It will take a while, if we so desire, for our country to right the wrongs of its recent past. But, with the clear message our voters sent today, there are reasons to believe it can happen.
We need to lead the world in developing profitable technologies, and personal and business behaviors that reverse and nullify the catastrophic environmental impact our country has had on the world. We need to recognize and embrace the notion that there are other countries having larger populations than us, having similar or greater global impact than us, having sometimes conflicting interests and/or values than ours. We need to set the standard for ethical governance, business practice, and cultural behavior at home and abroad so that our presence on the world stage is welcomed again without cynicism.
Nothing our country needs to do is impossible. In fact, I'm confident it's all been done before. We just need a re-fresher. Today is that day. Be excited, very excited. I am.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Bolivia - First Entry - Waaaay Late But Better Than Nothing
So we're here!!! And, actually, at the date and time of this blog entry, today marks my (Cliff) 4th week here, and Vee's 7th week.
Why has it taken soooo long for us to write anything, and why don't we have any photos, nor any videos up on the website yet?
Hmmmm...good questions. Uh, I think it's because we got somewhat burnt out from all the blogging, picture-taking, video-making and editing that we did in Europe. But I think mostly it is because our lifestyle here in Cochabamba Bolivia is much different than when we were hustling around Western Europe earlier this year. Then, we were living out of our backpacks, on the run each day, taking trains, planes, buses, boats, taxis and rental cars to a new village or city almost daily. Here, in Bolivia we are "tranquilo". We quickly got into a routine and settled. We are comfortable. And travelling is not really part of our agenda, at least not right now. Without the constant bombardment of new places and constantly changing stimulae, we've grown lax about taking pictures, videos and writing blogs, for now.
What is our agenda? Me = learn Spanish. Vee = re-connect with family. And lot's of other stuff. Our days are like this... In the morning, we have a huge healthy breakfast, or at least mine is huge. Vee prefers cereal with milk, fresh fruit juice, maybe an apple, and green tea. For breakfast, we sit down together in our kitchen, drink green tea, and eat and talk about the coming day. Vee has taken over breakfast duties though, getting me two hard-boiled eggs, a piece of bread, an avocado, and fresh fruit juice. At 9:30, my tutor, Jeanette, arrives, and for the next two hours we sit in our office (spare bedroom) and do Spanish lessons. We've moved along quite quickly already, since I had Spanish in high school, but now we're slowing down a bit because of all the new material. My vocabulary is expanding, but I make tons of mistakes, especially when speaking, and I still have a really hard time comprehending what people are saying to me if they are speaking at their normal pace. However, I am definitely getting better. And as a result, my connection with the family is getting stronger. Especially, "Papi" or Fernando, who is Vee's father. I love talking with him, even though I only understand about 30% of his ideas. I understand most of the words, but by the time I actually extract the meaning, I fall behind, and have to play catch-up, missing much of everything else that is said. It is not just Papi, it is anyone speaking at their normal pace. Hopefully, this will not be the case by the time we leave in January.
My Spanish lesson is 5 days/week, two hours each morning. During this time, Vee catches up on house stuff, personal stuff, sometimes food shopping, sometimes food prepping, and lots of life-organization stuff since we are constantly juggling multiple family itineraries as it is a big family, and we want to spend as much time with them as possible without totally sacrificing our own privacy. After my daily lesson with Jeanette, Vee and I head down to the cafe downstairs called "De'Kffe" where they all know us now. We sit and talk, sipping our cortados or cappuccinos, and then head off to the gym just down the street for a lunchtime workout. We've been really good about this, going 4-6 days/week. Usually once per week, I'll meet with Chris and sometimes Juber to play racquetball too. So after our lunchtime workout, we come back to our apartment, eat some fresh fruit and maybe some dinner leftovers, etc. for lunch, get cleaned up and then spend the rest of the day working on our business, reading books, spending time with the family, etc. At night, sometimes we go back downstairs for a coffee, or go explore the city of Cochabamba for coffee, beers and/or food.
On Saturdays, we walk to "El Mercado", or the open market, to buy our fresh fruit and vegetables for the week. Many times, we'll chop most of the fruit up when we get home, and blend it into fruit smoothies that we drink all week long. Normally, our bill, for everything, is about $10. For that, we get a huge papaya, a huge pineapple, a whole watermelon, oranges, apples, avocados, mangos, lemons, tomatos, bagged lettuce, chopped carrots, nuts, bananas, onions, and cucumbers. For other staples, like milk, chicken breasts, beer, water, cheese, bread, condiments, etc., we walk up to the local "supermercado" named IC Norte.
We got set up with Internet access, via "Comteco". It's a hair shy of 500kbps and costs $100/month. OUCH!!!!!!!!! The speed is about a 1/10 of what we get in Philly with Comcast, yet costs twice as much. We first went with a cheaper service, that was faster, via "Entel", but after a huge fiasco, and damaged telephone lines, they couldn't deliver. To get our current Internet service, Vee's father had to call in a favor with a friend of his who got us into the company offices that afternoon, an account set up, and an installation date more or less set. Here, that phenomenon is called "muñeca", which means wrist, or "to have influence"...absolutely essential here to get things done. Other things here are expensive, and or difficult to acquire too. Locating a simple "S-Video" cable, an Ethernet computer networking cable, and eventually a Wireless Access Point, was a HUGE production. In total, we probably had to visit nearly 60 stores to finally buy these 3 things, all of which, can be bought at a Best Buy in under 10 minutes back home. Honestly though, the adventure of shopping is fun, for the most part, as long as your expectations are set accordingly, and you are not in a time-crunch. Now, you have to go to "La Cancha" for everything, which is the HUGE "popular market" in the old city where mostly indigenous folks have little shops set up selling everything from fruits and vegetables, to meats, clothes, furniture, pets, music equipment, CD/DVDs, cars, hardware products, textiles and fabrics, you name it, it's there, unless you are looking for it.........
Thursdays, we have lunch with the family. Typically, Papi or Chris picks us up in the family's red extended cab Datsun pick-up truck around 12:30, and since it is a short ride, we are usually quickly seated in the Delgadillo living room or kitchen sipping some sort of sweet coffee-flavored liquer, and then eating a delicious "almuerzo" of "soup and seconds" soon thereafter. The whole family tries to be together for lunch, but with everyone's work and school schedules, it is not always possible. On Sunday, we do lunch as a family again, but usually out somewhere. It is a really fun time, where we exchange stories, talk about nostalgic subjects, and/or politics. Vee's Mom, or "Mami" to me, always cooks delicious meals, full of vegetables, rices and meat, usually ending with a bit of ice cream.
Last Wednesday, Papi, Chris, Sandra, Vee and I went to the "Wilstermann" futbol match, and ooooooooohhhh mannnnnn what an experience that was. The Wilstermann are THE pro futbol (soccer) team for Cochabamba, and it is getting to be crunchtime as the league championships finish in December, and they are currently in first place. The match was against those nasty "Cambas" from Santa Cruz, and it is historically a huge rivalry, since the "Coyas" of Cochabamba are proud to NOT be Santa Cruceños. I had on my official Wilstermann team shirt, and other than being the only tall, white, blue-eyed, blond-haired gringo in the entire stadium, I fit in quite well. The match was AWESOME with a capital A baby!!! At kick-off, Santa Cruz tried to catch us off guard by charging straight at the goal and shooting without hardly any setup; they missed, and the Wilstermann charged downfield in response and scored a GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!! What a way to start the game!!!! And, it only got better. We ended up winning, 3-1. I was treated to 2 red cards, riot police securing the field to mediate a bench-clearing brawl, fireworks, thrown bottles, tear gas, the wave, penalty shots, booing the refs and visiting teams' players as they were ejected ("FUERA"), etc. Afterwards, we stopped at "Frankffurt" for hot dogs and burgers. What a night! We are going back this weekend for the HUGE game against our main rival, La Paz. Can't wait!!!
Two Thursday nights ago, we went out with Chris, Juber, and Chris’ best friend Julio (who is REALLY nice, and is a computer programmer here in Cochabamba) to a live music club to see a local cover band play music from one of my favorite bands ever: “Iron Maiden”. It was unbelievable. These little native guys up on stage, mostly expressionless, and timid, dressed in normal everyday street clothes, and no attitude, absolutely BLEW US AWAY!!! They played the songs almost flawlessly, and the crowd (probably not even 100 people) were going nuts towards the end. They didn’t even get on stage until 11:30, and we did not get home until close to 3am by the time they finished playing. It was so much fun!!! Our tickets cost $3 U.S. each.
Our apartment is fantastic. It is a furnished apartment in the "Recoleta" neighborhood where we have easy access to all of downtown Cochabamba within walking distance and all the conveniences closeby, the most important of which are excellent restaurants, arguably the best cafe in the city right downstairs, a supermarket a block away, and our gym practically right across the street. Spoiled...you betcha, and loving it. Really the only problem is with noise. Alot of popular dance clubs and bars are on our block, and thus on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, it is complete mayhem out there. The taxi drivers and other young punks have those super-loud mufflers installed so you can hear them coming a KM away. And, of course, with the youth being poisoned by the most horrific of U.S. exports, "Hip Hop", we are blasted all night long with that sonic trash booming from their car stereos as they tear up our street. I wear my earplugs every night though, so I sleep soundly now, unlike our first week here.
The weather has been fantastic, in my opinion, although I am sure most Cochabombinos would disagree. Today, many of them were bundled up in jeans, thick coats, long sleeve shirts, etc., while I was wearing my usual cargo shorts and t-shirt. It is "primavera" (Spring) here now, and that means warm sunny mornings, cloudy cooler afternoons, and sometimes rainy nights, with daytime temperatures in the 70's F. Not bad considering back home, it'll be snowing soon, while here, Summer is right around the corner. Here, they complain some about the dust, and yeah, I can see it, but I don't think it's THAT bad. I see mostly blue skies.
Polution is a huge problem here, as is poverty. We are begged daily by lots of "niños" (little kids) and some wrinkly older folks too. It is just so sad and we want to be able to help all of them, but can't. Sometimes we give them something, a few coins, some food, whatever, but ALWAYS show them respect, no matter what, even when saying no. Polution-wise, the automobiles, busses, motorcycles, etc. are almost all from a prior generation of noxious-fume spewing menaces that you just have to deal with. And water here is "interesting", and of course, we drink nothing out of the tap, but then again, I don't in Philly either.
We eat out fairly frequently (aside from our daily coffees) because with U.S. dollar exchange rates, you can eat like a king, and spend hardly anything. For example, two Friday nights ago, we took Chris and Mami out for dinner, and it cost 185 bolivians, or $23 U.S. dollars. Vee had two trout fillets, Chris had a huge filet mignon, Mom had a giant sirloin steak, and I had an even bigger Argentinian sirloin, plus we each had the salad bar, lemonades and a plate of fried bananas. The restaurant is one of the best in the city.
Beer: As you can imagine, the choices here are not anywhere near as plentiful as they are elsewhere (U.S., Western Europe). But, I am thoroughly enjoying my "Huari" pilseners, "Taquiña" stoudts and "Paceña" Extra Tropical pilseners and porters. All are produced here in Bolivia. You can also buy Heineken, Corona, and maybe Budweiser, but why?!?!?! I really want to brew my own, but the expense of shipping a few home-brew recipe kits and a few pieces of brewing equipment would cost over $150 to have it shipped here, in addition to the cost of the materials themselves, so that has been crossed off my list of to-dos.
We are having a fantastic time, and are keeping quite busy despite the relaxed nature of our lifestyle. We are happy, not doing anything all that exciting, but enjoying life. There is lots more to write, but this is plenty for now. Hopefully soon, we'll get some pics and videos up.
Best love to all our family and friends! Ciao-ciao.
Why has it taken soooo long for us to write anything, and why don't we have any photos, nor any videos up on the website yet?
Hmmmm...good questions. Uh, I think it's because we got somewhat burnt out from all the blogging, picture-taking, video-making and editing that we did in Europe. But I think mostly it is because our lifestyle here in Cochabamba Bolivia is much different than when we were hustling around Western Europe earlier this year. Then, we were living out of our backpacks, on the run each day, taking trains, planes, buses, boats, taxis and rental cars to a new village or city almost daily. Here, in Bolivia we are "tranquilo". We quickly got into a routine and settled. We are comfortable. And travelling is not really part of our agenda, at least not right now. Without the constant bombardment of new places and constantly changing stimulae, we've grown lax about taking pictures, videos and writing blogs, for now.
What is our agenda? Me = learn Spanish. Vee = re-connect with family. And lot's of other stuff. Our days are like this... In the morning, we have a huge healthy breakfast, or at least mine is huge. Vee prefers cereal with milk, fresh fruit juice, maybe an apple, and green tea. For breakfast, we sit down together in our kitchen, drink green tea, and eat and talk about the coming day. Vee has taken over breakfast duties though, getting me two hard-boiled eggs, a piece of bread, an avocado, and fresh fruit juice. At 9:30, my tutor, Jeanette, arrives, and for the next two hours we sit in our office (spare bedroom) and do Spanish lessons. We've moved along quite quickly already, since I had Spanish in high school, but now we're slowing down a bit because of all the new material. My vocabulary is expanding, but I make tons of mistakes, especially when speaking, and I still have a really hard time comprehending what people are saying to me if they are speaking at their normal pace. However, I am definitely getting better. And as a result, my connection with the family is getting stronger. Especially, "Papi" or Fernando, who is Vee's father. I love talking with him, even though I only understand about 30% of his ideas. I understand most of the words, but by the time I actually extract the meaning, I fall behind, and have to play catch-up, missing much of everything else that is said. It is not just Papi, it is anyone speaking at their normal pace. Hopefully, this will not be the case by the time we leave in January.
My Spanish lesson is 5 days/week, two hours each morning. During this time, Vee catches up on house stuff, personal stuff, sometimes food shopping, sometimes food prepping, and lots of life-organization stuff since we are constantly juggling multiple family itineraries as it is a big family, and we want to spend as much time with them as possible without totally sacrificing our own privacy. After my daily lesson with Jeanette, Vee and I head down to the cafe downstairs called "De'Kffe" where they all know us now. We sit and talk, sipping our cortados or cappuccinos, and then head off to the gym just down the street for a lunchtime workout. We've been really good about this, going 4-6 days/week. Usually once per week, I'll meet with Chris and sometimes Juber to play racquetball too. So after our lunchtime workout, we come back to our apartment, eat some fresh fruit and maybe some dinner leftovers, etc. for lunch, get cleaned up and then spend the rest of the day working on our business, reading books, spending time with the family, etc. At night, sometimes we go back downstairs for a coffee, or go explore the city of Cochabamba for coffee, beers and/or food.
On Saturdays, we walk to "El Mercado", or the open market, to buy our fresh fruit and vegetables for the week. Many times, we'll chop most of the fruit up when we get home, and blend it into fruit smoothies that we drink all week long. Normally, our bill, for everything, is about $10. For that, we get a huge papaya, a huge pineapple, a whole watermelon, oranges, apples, avocados, mangos, lemons, tomatos, bagged lettuce, chopped carrots, nuts, bananas, onions, and cucumbers. For other staples, like milk, chicken breasts, beer, water, cheese, bread, condiments, etc., we walk up to the local "supermercado" named IC Norte.
We got set up with Internet access, via "Comteco". It's a hair shy of 500kbps and costs $100/month. OUCH!!!!!!!!! The speed is about a 1/10 of what we get in Philly with Comcast, yet costs twice as much. We first went with a cheaper service, that was faster, via "Entel", but after a huge fiasco, and damaged telephone lines, they couldn't deliver. To get our current Internet service, Vee's father had to call in a favor with a friend of his who got us into the company offices that afternoon, an account set up, and an installation date more or less set. Here, that phenomenon is called "muñeca", which means wrist, or "to have influence"...absolutely essential here to get things done. Other things here are expensive, and or difficult to acquire too. Locating a simple "S-Video" cable, an Ethernet computer networking cable, and eventually a Wireless Access Point, was a HUGE production. In total, we probably had to visit nearly 60 stores to finally buy these 3 things, all of which, can be bought at a Best Buy in under 10 minutes back home. Honestly though, the adventure of shopping is fun, for the most part, as long as your expectations are set accordingly, and you are not in a time-crunch. Now, you have to go to "La Cancha" for everything, which is the HUGE "popular market" in the old city where mostly indigenous folks have little shops set up selling everything from fruits and vegetables, to meats, clothes, furniture, pets, music equipment, CD/DVDs, cars, hardware products, textiles and fabrics, you name it, it's there, unless you are looking for it.........
Thursdays, we have lunch with the family. Typically, Papi or Chris picks us up in the family's red extended cab Datsun pick-up truck around 12:30, and since it is a short ride, we are usually quickly seated in the Delgadillo living room or kitchen sipping some sort of sweet coffee-flavored liquer, and then eating a delicious "almuerzo" of "soup and seconds" soon thereafter. The whole family tries to be together for lunch, but with everyone's work and school schedules, it is not always possible. On Sunday, we do lunch as a family again, but usually out somewhere. It is a really fun time, where we exchange stories, talk about nostalgic subjects, and/or politics. Vee's Mom, or "Mami" to me, always cooks delicious meals, full of vegetables, rices and meat, usually ending with a bit of ice cream.
Last Wednesday, Papi, Chris, Sandra, Vee and I went to the "Wilstermann" futbol match, and ooooooooohhhh mannnnnn what an experience that was. The Wilstermann are THE pro futbol (soccer) team for Cochabamba, and it is getting to be crunchtime as the league championships finish in December, and they are currently in first place. The match was against those nasty "Cambas" from Santa Cruz, and it is historically a huge rivalry, since the "Coyas" of Cochabamba are proud to NOT be Santa Cruceños. I had on my official Wilstermann team shirt, and other than being the only tall, white, blue-eyed, blond-haired gringo in the entire stadium, I fit in quite well. The match was AWESOME with a capital A baby!!! At kick-off, Santa Cruz tried to catch us off guard by charging straight at the goal and shooting without hardly any setup; they missed, and the Wilstermann charged downfield in response and scored a GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!! What a way to start the game!!!! And, it only got better. We ended up winning, 3-1. I was treated to 2 red cards, riot police securing the field to mediate a bench-clearing brawl, fireworks, thrown bottles, tear gas, the wave, penalty shots, booing the refs and visiting teams' players as they were ejected ("FUERA"), etc. Afterwards, we stopped at "Frankffurt" for hot dogs and burgers. What a night! We are going back this weekend for the HUGE game against our main rival, La Paz. Can't wait!!!
Two Thursday nights ago, we went out with Chris, Juber, and Chris’ best friend Julio (who is REALLY nice, and is a computer programmer here in Cochabamba) to a live music club to see a local cover band play music from one of my favorite bands ever: “Iron Maiden”. It was unbelievable. These little native guys up on stage, mostly expressionless, and timid, dressed in normal everyday street clothes, and no attitude, absolutely BLEW US AWAY!!! They played the songs almost flawlessly, and the crowd (probably not even 100 people) were going nuts towards the end. They didn’t even get on stage until 11:30, and we did not get home until close to 3am by the time they finished playing. It was so much fun!!! Our tickets cost $3 U.S. each.
Our apartment is fantastic. It is a furnished apartment in the "Recoleta" neighborhood where we have easy access to all of downtown Cochabamba within walking distance and all the conveniences closeby, the most important of which are excellent restaurants, arguably the best cafe in the city right downstairs, a supermarket a block away, and our gym practically right across the street. Spoiled...you betcha, and loving it. Really the only problem is with noise. Alot of popular dance clubs and bars are on our block, and thus on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, it is complete mayhem out there. The taxi drivers and other young punks have those super-loud mufflers installed so you can hear them coming a KM away. And, of course, with the youth being poisoned by the most horrific of U.S. exports, "Hip Hop", we are blasted all night long with that sonic trash booming from their car stereos as they tear up our street. I wear my earplugs every night though, so I sleep soundly now, unlike our first week here.
The weather has been fantastic, in my opinion, although I am sure most Cochabombinos would disagree. Today, many of them were bundled up in jeans, thick coats, long sleeve shirts, etc., while I was wearing my usual cargo shorts and t-shirt. It is "primavera" (Spring) here now, and that means warm sunny mornings, cloudy cooler afternoons, and sometimes rainy nights, with daytime temperatures in the 70's F. Not bad considering back home, it'll be snowing soon, while here, Summer is right around the corner. Here, they complain some about the dust, and yeah, I can see it, but I don't think it's THAT bad. I see mostly blue skies.
Polution is a huge problem here, as is poverty. We are begged daily by lots of "niños" (little kids) and some wrinkly older folks too. It is just so sad and we want to be able to help all of them, but can't. Sometimes we give them something, a few coins, some food, whatever, but ALWAYS show them respect, no matter what, even when saying no. Polution-wise, the automobiles, busses, motorcycles, etc. are almost all from a prior generation of noxious-fume spewing menaces that you just have to deal with. And water here is "interesting", and of course, we drink nothing out of the tap, but then again, I don't in Philly either.
We eat out fairly frequently (aside from our daily coffees) because with U.S. dollar exchange rates, you can eat like a king, and spend hardly anything. For example, two Friday nights ago, we took Chris and Mami out for dinner, and it cost 185 bolivians, or $23 U.S. dollars. Vee had two trout fillets, Chris had a huge filet mignon, Mom had a giant sirloin steak, and I had an even bigger Argentinian sirloin, plus we each had the salad bar, lemonades and a plate of fried bananas. The restaurant is one of the best in the city.
Beer: As you can imagine, the choices here are not anywhere near as plentiful as they are elsewhere (U.S., Western Europe). But, I am thoroughly enjoying my "Huari" pilseners, "Taquiña" stoudts and "Paceña" Extra Tropical pilseners and porters. All are produced here in Bolivia. You can also buy Heineken, Corona, and maybe Budweiser, but why?!?!?! I really want to brew my own, but the expense of shipping a few home-brew recipe kits and a few pieces of brewing equipment would cost over $150 to have it shipped here, in addition to the cost of the materials themselves, so that has been crossed off my list of to-dos.
We are having a fantastic time, and are keeping quite busy despite the relaxed nature of our lifestyle. We are happy, not doing anything all that exciting, but enjoying life. There is lots more to write, but this is plenty for now. Hopefully soon, we'll get some pics and videos up.
Best love to all our family and friends! Ciao-ciao.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Adirondacks - 5 days 4 nights - August 2006
| Monday August 21, we threw together our clothes and cleaned up the Perryville condo and were on the road around 9:30. We drove through Elkton so we could stop at a Jiffy Lube, a drive-thru coffee place, a Wachovia, and finally on to 427 E. Allens Ln where we loaded Monty up with camping gear. Vee had to run upstairs to retrieve a few things but luckily managed to avoid any awkward encounters. We were on the road by 12:30 and were detoured by construction on Rte309 but made it onto 276, then NJ Turnpike to 287 and 87 with a stop for gas and pizza at Sbarro then on to Warrensburg where we stayed at the Dagget Lake Campsites for $27. I called earlier to make sure they'd have a tent site for us and when we arrived, we had the pick of 3 sites. Jeanine was real sweet and explained all the rules to us. We unloaded, built the tent, and then took a walk around the grounds and discovered the beautiful lake where we hung out for a while listening to the silence. With the sun going down, we left to explore the area some more and find something to eat. Having seen Warrensburg on the way to the campsite, and already picking out a place for breakfast, we decided to drive out to Bolton Landing on Lake George and see what that was all about. It was about a 25 minute drive but well worth it as it was a nice little village, with a handful of restaurants and shops that were open late. We walked the length of the strip and decided on an unassuming little homey restaurant that had the Cowboys-Saints game on. We weren't hungry enough to order separate entrees so we ordered a bunch of apps: spring rolls, bbq riblets, and chili. They also had ice cold Spaten, so I enjoyed two of those. Happilly stuffed, we made the trip back to our tent. Using the spotlight, I tried finding the bathhouse, but couldn't do it in the pitch black night. We both must have fallen asleep pretty quickly. Tuesday August 22, I woke up early, and couldn't get back to sleep, but felt fairly well rested. Only my back was beginning to hurt. I waited until almost 9am before I shined the flashlight in Vee's eye to wake her up. We made our way to the bathouse, showered, tore down the tent and packed up the truck all within an hour and then drove into town for a hearty breakfast in the local diner with a mounted wolf-fish-head on the wall. Vee had blueberry pancakes, and I had the Hungryman breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes and we each had coffees. We agreed on heading towards Blue Mountain Lake so we could stop at the Adirondack Museum and then continue on to Tupper Lake for an overnight. The museum was excellent and had all kinds of fantastic exhibits, a film and numerous buildings to explore plus a wonderful deck view of the lake below and beautiful pond and landscaping. Uncle John called on the mobile phone just as we finished up and were perusing the gift shop. We pointed ourselves to Tupper Lake which was another 32 miles away and travelled a newly paved picture perfect Rte30 through the wilderness lined with lakes and mountains and bogs. Using our newly acquired Adirondacks map, we pulled into the Blue Jay Campground and had a pick of any tentsite we wanted. We decided on #53 and built our tent, more quickly than last night, but for some reason, not as well as last night. It was raining a bit so maybe that caused us to lose focus a bit. With the tent built, we drove up to the town of Tupper Lake and found a restaurant that looked just right. It had neon beer signs in the window and "Smokehouse" in the name. There was a pool table and electronic dart board and we shared a gigantic plate of nachos topped with smoked pulled pork, and a house salad. I enjoyed a Saranac Pale Ale and another rather bland local Ale. We were stuffed and drove back to the campsite where we unloaded our bedding and got comfortable. The spotlight was losing power so Vee wasn't able to read, but I was able to blog. The drips from the trees above us are pelting the tent, but at least it isn't raining anymore, or if it is, it is very light. Wednesday morning of August 23, we both woke up around 7:30, showered, packed everything and were on the road by 8:30. We drove through Tupper Lake and pointed the truck towards Saranac Lake where we ended up parking and walking around for a while. It was a cozy authentic little Adirondack village with all the conveniences. We had breakfast in the Blue Moon Cafe where Vee got a bagel with smoked salmon and cream cheese and I got a flour tortilla layered with scrambled eggs, monteray jack cheese, pico de gallo, tomato salsa and a dollop of sour cream. We picked out our own coffee mugs and coffees, which were bottomless. We were quite impressed with the food, coffee, and friendly family service, especially the little girl who couldn't, have been older than 5 years who was bussing tables. After breakfast, we walked around town some more and ended up in the gallery of an artist whose paintings of the Adirondacks we really enjoyed. We talked with him for a while, learning that he went to school at Temple in Philly, then moved to West Palm Beach with his wife for 17 years where he taught art in elementary school. His wife worked at the Tupper Lake Adirondack natural science museum and said that it was an amazing place well worth a visit. We both really enjoyed the town and continued on toward Lake Placid. The morning views were beautiful and at one point, I pulled Monty over onto the shoulder, and started backing up to get in better view to take some pictures when we started to slide off the shoulder at a steep slant and came close to rolling over. A park ranger in a Jeep and another guy in a pickup truck pulled over within seconds to make sure we were okay. Once in four wheel drive, Monty had no trouble getting us out of danger, but it was a bit hairy for a few seconds there. Once in Lake Placid, we parked in the municipal parking lot for one doller per hour prepaid. We walked around for another few hours, visiting the conference center and skating rinks where the Miracle on Ice happened in 1980 where the U.S. beat Russia in hockey by one point, and we got to see alot of kids and adults practicing their ice skating skills. Vee really liked Lake Placide, and so did I, but it was a tad bit too touristy. Beautiful though, especially right there nestled alongside Mirror Lake and amongst all the mountains. In the tourist center we picked up some more brochures and learned about a hike up Mt.Jo nearby so we drove there and made the somewhat challenging ascent to a breathtaking 360 view of the high peaks including Mt.Marcy, the highest peak. At the top, we snapped some pics and then made our way down, again passing almost everyone we encountered since Vee is quite the trailblazer. At the bottom, we enjoyed the beautiful Heart Lake where Vee finally "got" the Adirondacks. No development, just pure crystal clear water with a soft bottom surrounded by large forested mountains. This was the kind of place Vee could love, and me too. The water wasn't even that cold so I got in up to my calfs and it felt wonderful, and we shot some more pics. We were hoping to find a campground on the way towards Elizabethtown, but no luck, so we had to head north a bit past Lewis and found the Magic Pines Campground where we had our choice of any tent site for 16 bucks. We pitched tent and with the help of our campsite manager, found the Mountain Shadows restaurant and enjoyed a delicious dinner. Vee had the baked salmon and I had the NY Strip special, wings and two Labbatts. The little busboy was fun to watch as he too couldn't have been more than 5 ot 6 years old and told us we could sit anywhere we like. After dinner, we drove into Westport where the views across Lake Champlain were amazing. The varying grades of blue-gray mountain ridges were gorgeous, and the boats moored in the little inlet set quite the scene. I forgot our camera cover here though, so that was a bummer...I left it on top of the truck and didn't realize it until we arrived back at the tent site. We took a different way back, using route 10, so that was fun. We washed up in the bathouse and called it a night. No rain, and total silence except the wilderness and distant cars. Thursday the 24th of August, we woke up around 7, quickly showered and packed, but still did not know what we would do for the day. After spending a bit of time in the truck looking at maps and proposing ideas, we decided that we'd spend another night camping out, rather than heading home. With that agreed upon, we chose an itinerary that would take us up to Plattsburg first, and then Southward ultimately into the Ticonderoga area. The weather was perfect, cool, blue skies with some fluffy white clouds. We left the Magic Pines Campground behind and quickly found ourselves in a not too impressive Plattsburg, where we got out to explore, but within a block or two found that we had already covered what there was to see. Across the street from where we parked there was a rustic looking coffee place called Camp Coffee, and we were greeted by the proprietor, a nice middle-aged woman alone inside at a table reading. She fixed Vee a capuccino and I had an organic blended coffee, each delicious, and we shared a wonderful warm cinnamon roll oozing with a molten white sugary sauce. While we continued enjoying our drinks, we sat on a large couch and read through some magazines and books that were there on the shelves. We left before completely finishing our drinks, with just enough left to take on the road for a few more sips. We stopped to re-fill the gas tank, and use the surprisingly clean bathroom facilities at a gas station before getting onto 87 South. We didn't stay on the throughway long because of a sign describing something called the Ausable Chasm, which I was convinced must be something interesting. I had seen references to Ausable river in many of the beautiful photos we saw in the Adirondack Museum and thought maybe there would be a connection. Though it was very pricey, at $16 per person, the chasm was a fantastic way to spend a few hours. We got to learn about the interesting rock formations and the horrible flood damage that devastated the chasm in the mid-90's. Vee took alot of pictures, and we walked the full length of the lower and upper trails out and back. At one point, we almost stepped on a snake in the path, but high-stepped backwards until the snake had moved to a safe distance away from the trail before we proceeded. There were beautiful falls, rapids, shear cliffs and amazing views all around. From there we continued South, passing through a number of towns including Keeseville, Port Henry, Willsboro, Westport, Hague, Ticonderoga, finally ending up in Schroon Lake. The topography during the drive along Lake Champlain through all these towns was absolutely astounding. The Green Mountains of Vermont in the distance, with their alternating layers of blue and gray frame the silvery water of the lake on the East and to the West, the magnificant rolling lush green mountains of the Adirondacks, and in between a patchwork of lakes, rivers, farms and fruit/veggie stands, and vast meadows of green, yellow and purple. The dark rain clouds rolled in and threatened to spoil the evening, but the rain didn't last very long. We tried a few campgrounds before finally pitching our tent in the Paradox Lake Campground, site#10, near the bathouse and nicely secluded with heavy foliage and tree cover and a gravel floor. It took us no time to get the tent up, use the facilities and head back into the nice little village of Schroon Lake where we had dinner at an Irish pub. I had a local IPA that was quite tastey and another local ale with a slight smokey flavor. For dinner, Vee had a chicken sandwich, we shared a dozen excellent hot wings, and I had a delicious french dip sandwich. Afterwards, we caught the 8 o'clock show at the theather across the street of Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth" which we had been wanting to see for some time. It was very well done, and horrifying. We're so screwed. Then in a sort of sad guilt-laden silence and intermittant exhasperated conversation about what the heck we could do about the looming environment crisis we were just reminded of, we drove back to the tent to try and get some sleep. A perfect day; even with the near fatal snake attack:-) Friday August 25th, we were up before 7 and on the road by 7:30. There was no one at the campground entrance, again, so we ended up not having to pay for last nights stay. We stopped in Lake George at Cafe Vero for coffees and pastries before continuing southward. The rain was heavy at times but despite that, our driving time to Philly was 5.5 hours and 365 miles. Dropped off our stuff and continued onto Perryville to meet up with Mom and Dad for a nice dinner by the Bay. | |
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