My probation is finally over. For the last three months in-site, we were not allowed to leave without special permission. That officially ended this week. I´ve been able to leave my site with my family, but nothing else. Many other PCVs in my group have blown off this rule and done whatever they felt like, but growing up under Rich and Mary Verhoff, I have learned that I can´t break any rule without getting caught. Therefore, I have been a "Site Rat" since April. Now, let the fun begin. I already have some trips semi-planned for August.
I hope everyone has had a chance to look at the pictures I sent out last week. If you didn´t get them (I got a lot of undeliverable messages afterwords) , or would like some more, let me know. Here are some of the reactions I received via e-mail. Aaron "Bulldog" Ogorzalek, a friend from Rolla wrote: "Sweeeet! You look like Andre the Giant next to them!!". Jared "Millertime" Miller, a friend from after college wrote:"Dang Jay! You must be like Andre the Giant to the people of Ecuador!". And Brian "Manilla" Curylo, a friend from work in Chicago wrote: "Jay the American Giant". They say that great minds think alike. I guess this proves that the opposite is true as well.
A couple of weeks ago the owner of my house decided that it was time to repaint the roof. My house is made of concrete and cinder block walls, but the roof is just raw timber (Eucalyptus and pine branches) trusses with corrugated fiberglass sheets over that. I offered to help, but the owner said that he didn´t want me to because I was too heavy and would break the roof. It took him a while to finish, and afterwords he asked me if the roof leaked every time it rained. It never did, but w hadn´t been getting very much rain. I figured that he was worried that he may have put a hole in the roof while painting. My thoughts were proved correct when we got a heavy rain last week. The roof leaked, but I was able to catch the water with two buckets and a pot. When the owner´s wife found out, she said that we had to put a plastic sheet over the hole. Seeing as the owner wasn´t home, it was my job to climb up on the roof and put on the plastic. I said OK to this and climbed up. I got to the peak of the roof and saw a small crack that looked like the owner had misstepped while painting. I turned around to get the plastic sheet to cover it, and then I had my own misstep. I only fell about three feet to the ceiling of my bedroom and my right foot stayed on the roof, but I had turned a small manageable crack into a hula-hoop sized hole. Good work Jay! I ended up covering both holes with plastic (which has worked perfectly). The big hole is still there and I have a feeling it is not going to get fixed for a while.
After six months in-country, the PC nurses do a follow up to see how all the PCVs are doing. My appointment was scheduled for this week. The interview/check-up went fine and afterwords, the nurse asked if I wanted to ride along to the next site. I said OK and off we went. WE headed South to Ambato and talked to two more PCVs. Then the nurse asked us all to come with her to the next site and spend the night. We took advantage of our new freedom and all said yes. We ended up with four PCVs and headed West to Guaranda, The drive there was cool. We passed right under Mt Chimborazo (Which because of the bulge at the Equator, the top of Mt Chimborazo is the farthest point from the center of the Earth). WE had a nice dinner and then crashed at the local PCV´s house. I volunteered to sleep on the floor and woke up to a cat starring at me about six inches from my face. I freaked out and woke everybody up at 5:50 AM. Normally this would have pissed everyone off, but not in Guaranda, Ecuador because we were all getting up in ten minutes anyway. Apparently an old Mayor of the town thought it would be a good idea to install a town alarm clock. They put up air raid sirens all over town and had them go off every day at 6:00AM, noon, and 9:00PM. I´ve seen Big Ben, the Glockenspiel in Munich, and the Astronomical Clock in Prague, but I´ve never heard of public time telling that included waking everyone up at the same god awful hour.
Yesterday, I performed a rarely accomplished feat, "The Holy Hat Trick". Yes, that´s right, I went to mass three times in the same day. I got up at 7:00AM and went with the family to another family member´s new house for a "blessing". A priest came and had a full mass in the living room and then blessed the inside and outside of the house. After that, w had boiled potatoes and fried pork at 10:ooAM and then went back to La Libertad for a 1:00PM mass at the grade school to commemorate the one year anniversary of the death of the former school director. After the mass we ate boiled potatoes and fried pork. I took an hour nap, and then it was off to Machachi for a Wedding. I didn´t know that people who were getting married, but apparently they were friends of friends of the family. Then it was back to L.L. for dinner of...leftover boiled potatoes and fried pork. I declined the "Anti-Atkins/Cholesterol Hat Trick" and had a PBJ sandwich and wrote out this blog post instead. I guess that is what I get for making fun of the Niña Sana last week.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
La Niña Santa
First off, I got booze spit on me finally. I´ve used the excuse, "My stomach hurts" a bunch down here with the family. Usually because I just ate and the won´t except, "I´m not hungry" as a reason for not eating. I´ve been waiting for them to cure my ever present stomach ache, and it happened last week. First they rubbed oil on my chest, back, head, and neck. Next they spit trago, cane alcohol, on me. They told me to go to bed without a shower, but I didn´t want to sleep smelling like W.C. Fields, so I did anyway. I´m currently trying to think of a new excuse for not eating that doesn´t require bathing afterwords...any ideas?
Also, one of the family´s cows had a calf this week. I got to drink colostrum for the first time. This is the first milk that a cow (or mother) gives after birth. It is thick and yellow and after they added some sugar, not that bad. I think that it is better for the calf to get this than the family, but what do I know.
I went to Quito on Sunday to hang out with some friends and watch the Cards game on ESPN. The Cardinals won big (The first time I´ve seen them win this year), so it was nice. One of my friends from Philadelphia was there too, so I got to rub in the Phillie's 10,000th loss.
I´ve been reading James Joyce´s "Ulysses" the last couple of weeks, and it has been kicking my butt. It is very complicates and even he said, "It will keep the Professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant." I decided that when I went to Quito, I´d print out a study guide at the office to help me understand. Huge coincidence though, when I went to the office, in the PCV lending library, there was a copy of "Ulysses Annotated". Over 600 pages of notes for a 700 page book. I´m glad I didn´t have to print the notes out. I think the office manager wouldn´t have been too happy if I used all the paper ion the office for that.
While I Quito I picked up a bunch of packages too. 1) Scott and Kari Mueller sent a book 2) Jason Muchacho sent books and a reading light (Which I used this week when the power went out) 3) Mom and Steph sent books, socks, and thermal underwear. The books I got were...Collapse, Black Hawk Down, Frankenstein, The Panama Hat Trail, War and Peace, The Communist Manifesto, Airframe, Grant and Sherman, The Mayflower, The Conquerors, and The HP 48G Users Guide (Exciting reading that one). Total pages received - 5,243. I think I´ll have enough books for a while. Books, socks, and underwear though. If I were 10 years old, I´d have thought I had a shitty Christmas, but down here I couldn´t have asked for anything more. Thanks to all you guys who sent packages, it means a lot. I also got some letters from my Mom and a packet of Pectin for making jelly. I´m going to try again this week, so wish me luck. On the box there are instruction for making the jelly, and a chart for converting the cooking times for high altitudes. Unfortunately I live 1,200 feet above the highest altitude in the chart, so I´ll have to extrapolate.
Speaking of my altitude, I was bored the other day (I was taking a break form Ulysses) and figured out that if the ground under my site disappeared, it would take me over 27 seconds to fall to sea level and by then I would be travelling 580 mph. Of course this is assuming no wind resistance, but you get the idea...I´m up there. Also, to pass the time, I carved "Wonderboy" with a lightening bolt a la Roy Hobbs into my walking/dog beating stick. The kids didn´t understand , but they thought the ´bolt was cool.
I should preface this next story by saying that I am a religious person. I believe in God, the devil, and the rest of the heavenly host. My doubts though, come in the belief in God´s intervention in our daily lives. I don´t think that praying for a sunny day to dry out your clothes (which I´ve been tempted to do down here) actually works. Many people do believe, and that´s fine. I´m not conceited enough to think I´m always right, and far be it for me to belittle another person´s (my Mother for example)beliefs. I do though have a line, and that line was crossed on Wednesday.
Two weeks ago one of the sisters of my host family asked me if I wanted to go on a trip to the coast. Of course I said yes, because I wanted some warm weather. The trip was planned to leave at 10:00PM on Tuesday night and return the following evening. I was excited until Tuesday night when I found out why we were going. They had told me that we were going to "Pass a little time"in the sun, but now they told me that we were going for "The Cure". I asked what this was and they explained that it was a mass with the "Niña Sana", or "Curing Child". I was interested to see this, but not looking forward to the 10 hour bus ride to do so. I tried to back out, but they wouldn´t let me. We left at 8:00PM (early for a change) and after a horrible overnight bus ride (everyone slept but me), we arrived in a small coastal town at 7:30AM. The one good thing about the trip was that I got to see some aspects of coastal life. 3:30AM and there were people in the streets dancing, eating, and hanging out. This is a stark contrast from the town by my site. There, everyone is at home watching bad TV by 10:00PM.
Anyway, we soon found out that the mass wasn´t until 11:00AM, so we spent some time walking around the town. It was a town smaller than mine with one main street with about 40 houses. All the houses had been turned into restaurants and their were vendors selling food, clothes, and other crap. Also a ton of people were selling gallons of water. I immediately didn´t like this, but held my tongue. As the time neared, the people I was with all bought water and we headed behind the town where the mass was. There were about 2,500 people there and more vendors (also, chair rental stands). There were a lot of people with physical disabilities and obvious aliments; amputees, crooked backs and legs, mentally handicapped children, etc. All of whom (or their caretakers) were carrying jugs of water. We waited around for a while talking and I taking pictures. Finally, a man came out in one of the backyard with a bullhorn and said that the niña sana would come out soon, but that NO ONE!!! was to take pictures or the cure wouldn´t work. The people I was with quickly told me to put my camera away. I did so and then asked who the niña santa was. They told me she was a girl from the town who had prayed to God to help a man who couldn´t walk. She said that God told her that if the man could raise a glass of water over his head, then he was a servant of God and would be cured. The man did so and immediately could walk. Now people come from far away to see the girl and raise water over their heads (hence the water vendors).
A couple of minutes went by and then a group came out in the yard and began the service. It took about 25 minutes and was just some praying and singing. Then the niña sana came out. She was about 15 and began shaking people´s hands along the fence that separated us. People were crowding to touch her and have her bless their water. I just stood in the back in awe. They said a closing prayer, and that was it. The niña santa shock more hands for 10 minutes. I had to wait because the people I was with wanted to touch her. They didn´t get to, but weren´t too upset because they´d have a chance to at the next service. What?!? I thought we´d be going home or hopefully to a bigger town, but no, we were going to sit in the bus for 4 hours waiting for the next time. I was not happy to put it mildly.
I passed some of the time walking around looking at the stuff to buy and watching parents rub the supposedly bless water on the heads of their children with Down´s Syndrome hoping for a cure. When the people I was with asked me what I thought, I told them that I didn´t like it. They couldn´t understand that I didn´t believe in any of it and thought it was all a ploy for the town to draw tourists and make a ton of money selling food, junk, and overpriced bottles of water. They then went to the next service and I went to sleep on the bus. Afterwords, they got back on the bus. Many still limping.
Then it was another 9 hours on the bus back to Machachi (although the trip was only 110 miles as the crow files). We got there too late to catch the bus to my site, so we slept on couches at someone´s house. WE got up at 5:00AM and caught the 6:30 bus to La Libertad. I got home at 7:15 and crashed in my clothes. Thirty six hours, three Ecuadorian Provinces, and a $10 fare (which they ended up not charging me) all to see the World´s worst impression of Lourdes. And I thought we were going to the beach! Oh well, it is all for the experience.
I just wonder if the guy standing next to me at the first service with a gallon of bought water over his head will have his amputated leg grow back.
(NOTE: They are going back again next week. They asked me if I want to go, but I said no. Also, the sister of the family says that since she got back, her back pain has gone away.)
Also, one of the family´s cows had a calf this week. I got to drink colostrum for the first time. This is the first milk that a cow (or mother) gives after birth. It is thick and yellow and after they added some sugar, not that bad. I think that it is better for the calf to get this than the family, but what do I know.
I went to Quito on Sunday to hang out with some friends and watch the Cards game on ESPN. The Cardinals won big (The first time I´ve seen them win this year), so it was nice. One of my friends from Philadelphia was there too, so I got to rub in the Phillie's 10,000th loss.
I´ve been reading James Joyce´s "Ulysses" the last couple of weeks, and it has been kicking my butt. It is very complicates and even he said, "It will keep the Professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant." I decided that when I went to Quito, I´d print out a study guide at the office to help me understand. Huge coincidence though, when I went to the office, in the PCV lending library, there was a copy of "Ulysses Annotated". Over 600 pages of notes for a 700 page book. I´m glad I didn´t have to print the notes out. I think the office manager wouldn´t have been too happy if I used all the paper ion the office for that.
While I Quito I picked up a bunch of packages too. 1) Scott and Kari Mueller sent a book 2) Jason Muchacho sent books and a reading light (Which I used this week when the power went out) 3) Mom and Steph sent books, socks, and thermal underwear. The books I got were...Collapse, Black Hawk Down, Frankenstein, The Panama Hat Trail, War and Peace, The Communist Manifesto, Airframe, Grant and Sherman, The Mayflower, The Conquerors, and The HP 48G Users Guide (Exciting reading that one). Total pages received - 5,243. I think I´ll have enough books for a while. Books, socks, and underwear though. If I were 10 years old, I´d have thought I had a shitty Christmas, but down here I couldn´t have asked for anything more. Thanks to all you guys who sent packages, it means a lot. I also got some letters from my Mom and a packet of Pectin for making jelly. I´m going to try again this week, so wish me luck. On the box there are instruction for making the jelly, and a chart for converting the cooking times for high altitudes. Unfortunately I live 1,200 feet above the highest altitude in the chart, so I´ll have to extrapolate.
Speaking of my altitude, I was bored the other day (I was taking a break form Ulysses) and figured out that if the ground under my site disappeared, it would take me over 27 seconds to fall to sea level and by then I would be travelling 580 mph. Of course this is assuming no wind resistance, but you get the idea...I´m up there. Also, to pass the time, I carved "Wonderboy" with a lightening bolt a la Roy Hobbs into my walking/dog beating stick. The kids didn´t understand , but they thought the ´bolt was cool.
I should preface this next story by saying that I am a religious person. I believe in God, the devil, and the rest of the heavenly host. My doubts though, come in the belief in God´s intervention in our daily lives. I don´t think that praying for a sunny day to dry out your clothes (which I´ve been tempted to do down here) actually works. Many people do believe, and that´s fine. I´m not conceited enough to think I´m always right, and far be it for me to belittle another person´s (my Mother for example)beliefs. I do though have a line, and that line was crossed on Wednesday.
Two weeks ago one of the sisters of my host family asked me if I wanted to go on a trip to the coast. Of course I said yes, because I wanted some warm weather. The trip was planned to leave at 10:00PM on Tuesday night and return the following evening. I was excited until Tuesday night when I found out why we were going. They had told me that we were going to "Pass a little time"in the sun, but now they told me that we were going for "The Cure". I asked what this was and they explained that it was a mass with the "Niña Sana", or "Curing Child". I was interested to see this, but not looking forward to the 10 hour bus ride to do so. I tried to back out, but they wouldn´t let me. We left at 8:00PM (early for a change) and after a horrible overnight bus ride (everyone slept but me), we arrived in a small coastal town at 7:30AM. The one good thing about the trip was that I got to see some aspects of coastal life. 3:30AM and there were people in the streets dancing, eating, and hanging out. This is a stark contrast from the town by my site. There, everyone is at home watching bad TV by 10:00PM.
Anyway, we soon found out that the mass wasn´t until 11:00AM, so we spent some time walking around the town. It was a town smaller than mine with one main street with about 40 houses. All the houses had been turned into restaurants and their were vendors selling food, clothes, and other crap. Also a ton of people were selling gallons of water. I immediately didn´t like this, but held my tongue. As the time neared, the people I was with all bought water and we headed behind the town where the mass was. There were about 2,500 people there and more vendors (also, chair rental stands). There were a lot of people with physical disabilities and obvious aliments; amputees, crooked backs and legs, mentally handicapped children, etc. All of whom (or their caretakers) were carrying jugs of water. We waited around for a while talking and I taking pictures. Finally, a man came out in one of the backyard with a bullhorn and said that the niña sana would come out soon, but that NO ONE!!! was to take pictures or the cure wouldn´t work. The people I was with quickly told me to put my camera away. I did so and then asked who the niña santa was. They told me she was a girl from the town who had prayed to God to help a man who couldn´t walk. She said that God told her that if the man could raise a glass of water over his head, then he was a servant of God and would be cured. The man did so and immediately could walk. Now people come from far away to see the girl and raise water over their heads (hence the water vendors).
A couple of minutes went by and then a group came out in the yard and began the service. It took about 25 minutes and was just some praying and singing. Then the niña sana came out. She was about 15 and began shaking people´s hands along the fence that separated us. People were crowding to touch her and have her bless their water. I just stood in the back in awe. They said a closing prayer, and that was it. The niña santa shock more hands for 10 minutes. I had to wait because the people I was with wanted to touch her. They didn´t get to, but weren´t too upset because they´d have a chance to at the next service. What?!? I thought we´d be going home or hopefully to a bigger town, but no, we were going to sit in the bus for 4 hours waiting for the next time. I was not happy to put it mildly.
I passed some of the time walking around looking at the stuff to buy and watching parents rub the supposedly bless water on the heads of their children with Down´s Syndrome hoping for a cure. When the people I was with asked me what I thought, I told them that I didn´t like it. They couldn´t understand that I didn´t believe in any of it and thought it was all a ploy for the town to draw tourists and make a ton of money selling food, junk, and overpriced bottles of water. They then went to the next service and I went to sleep on the bus. Afterwords, they got back on the bus. Many still limping.
Then it was another 9 hours on the bus back to Machachi (although the trip was only 110 miles as the crow files). We got there too late to catch the bus to my site, so we slept on couches at someone´s house. WE got up at 5:00AM and caught the 6:30 bus to La Libertad. I got home at 7:15 and crashed in my clothes. Thirty six hours, three Ecuadorian Provinces, and a $10 fare (which they ended up not charging me) all to see the World´s worst impression of Lourdes. And I thought we were going to the beach! Oh well, it is all for the experience.
I just wonder if the guy standing next to me at the first service with a gallon of bought water over his head will have his amputated leg grow back.
(NOTE: They are going back again next week. They asked me if I want to go, but I said no. Also, the sister of the family says that since she got back, her back pain has gone away.)
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Monday, July 9, 2007
4th of July, Not a Big Deal In Ecuador
I had my first culinary failure last week. I tried to make pesto sauce, but it turned out horribly. I couldn´t find any fresh basil, so I used dried. That may have been the problem, or possibly the garlic was bad. Either way, the pasta was ruined. Right after that, I tried to make blueberry/blackberry jam. I didn´t know how long to cook it, so I just kept it on the heat until it got thick. It never did, so after an hour I stopped cooking it and let it cool. Within 10 minutes it turned rock hard. Apparently I cooked it about 50 minutes too long and instead of jelly, I had made Jolly Ranchers. I´m going to try again and I´ll let you know how it turns out.
Last year I spent the 4th of July in San Diego on the beach. It was a beautiful day and my friends, a couple hundred thousand other people and I spent it eating BBQ, relaxing in the sun, drinking some beers, and watching 4 simultaneous fireworks displays. This year however was a little different. I woke up at 6:30 AM when someone started beating on my door. I opened it and it was a women and her son. She asked if I could teach her son English. I said OK and asked when. She said, "Now". I said no and told them to come back later. I tried to go back to sleep, but soon another person was beating on my door. This time it was my neighbor asking for a band-aid. I gave her one and figured that it wasn´t my day to sleep in. Instead, I spent the next two hours beating my clothes on a concrete slab. After the laundry was done, I went up to the school for a planned game of basketball. The game was between the 6th and 7th grade girls, and I was the Ref. Now, I´m not saying that they were bad, but I´ve seen street brawls that were better organized. After an hour the score was 2-2, so I called a foul and let the best girl shot free-throws under the basket. Luckily she made one and it ended 3-2. Then it was the teacher´s turn to play. They let me play too and put me on the team with the ladies. I haven´t ran in a while, so I could barley make it up and down the court. They wanted me to stand under the basket and just toss it in. Since I was so much taller, it was pretty easy. I really didn´t want to win this way, so I passed it off a lot. We ended up winning, and now I know how Wilt Chamberlin must have felt. After the game we all had some soup.
Next, I went in to town to use the Internet and then came back to teach the kid from the morning some English. After "class" I hung out with the family. I had bought some peanuts and Budweisers in town, so we shared them and had a small Independence Day party. They though the beer was good, but too cold (I had put them in the fridge for an hour). The older Grandma and the two-year old tried the beer and both were impressed. (Note: the two-year old´s condition got worse on Tuesday, so they took her to the Hospital. She is fine now, but I guess spitting booze on here didn´t work after all...surprising.) Later, I made a ham and cheese sandwich and sat in my room listening to music. I hate to admit it, but I got really homesick while listening to Willie Nelson´s version of "City of New Orleans". I was thinking of everybody being together and having fun and well, "Good morning America, how are ya?", it got to me.
This was the last week of classes at the school. Graduation was on Friday and the teachers asked me to come to the ceremony. It was nice, and they even had me sit on stage and help hand out diplomas. I had to call out the students names. Luckily they were all easy ones. After that we had a Guinea Pig lunch and then drank and danced in a classroom for 6 hours. During the afternoon, I took a break and went outside to play with the kids. They were kicking a tennis ball around and I told them to throw it to me. This turned into me throwing the ball across the yard. They were all impressed at how far I could throw it (It wasn´t far for me but miles for them). Soon we had a crowd and there were probably 12 parents and 30 kids Oohing and Aahing at every toss.
The next day I took a 4 hour bus ride with the family to their relatives house for a Birthday party. I had met the girl whose B-Day it was, so I thought it would be fun. I didn´t know it, but turning 15 is a big deal down here. It is the "coming of age" for a girl. The girl got all dressed up and the house was cleared for guests. We first went to a special mass for her. It was interesting at the mass. She was sitting up front with her family like the wedding party. She had came wearing slipper, but in the middle of mass, she switched to high-heels that her Godmother had brought on a pillow. After mass, we went to the house for toasts and special dances. It was just like a wedding. They had prepared a ton of good food, so I ate like a king. The the DJ started playing music and people began to dance and pass bottles. I was tired of dancing from the night before, but I ended up staying up until 4:30. I can´t say that I had a good time, but it was better than being at home. I was disappointed to see the girl drinking heavily. By 1:00 she was fall down drunk(The same as her parents). They grow up quicker down here, but I really don´t agree with someone that young getting hammered. I eventually made it to bed (I say bed, but I had to sleep on the floor), but the party was still going on. I only got 2-3 hours of sleep that night and was glad to get back to L.L. the next day in time to help the ladies of the community bank write some correspondence on the computer and then get to bed early.
Last year I spent the 4th of July in San Diego on the beach. It was a beautiful day and my friends, a couple hundred thousand other people and I spent it eating BBQ, relaxing in the sun, drinking some beers, and watching 4 simultaneous fireworks displays. This year however was a little different. I woke up at 6:30 AM when someone started beating on my door. I opened it and it was a women and her son. She asked if I could teach her son English. I said OK and asked when. She said, "Now". I said no and told them to come back later. I tried to go back to sleep, but soon another person was beating on my door. This time it was my neighbor asking for a band-aid. I gave her one and figured that it wasn´t my day to sleep in. Instead, I spent the next two hours beating my clothes on a concrete slab. After the laundry was done, I went up to the school for a planned game of basketball. The game was between the 6th and 7th grade girls, and I was the Ref. Now, I´m not saying that they were bad, but I´ve seen street brawls that were better organized. After an hour the score was 2-2, so I called a foul and let the best girl shot free-throws under the basket. Luckily she made one and it ended 3-2. Then it was the teacher´s turn to play. They let me play too and put me on the team with the ladies. I haven´t ran in a while, so I could barley make it up and down the court. They wanted me to stand under the basket and just toss it in. Since I was so much taller, it was pretty easy. I really didn´t want to win this way, so I passed it off a lot. We ended up winning, and now I know how Wilt Chamberlin must have felt. After the game we all had some soup.
Next, I went in to town to use the Internet and then came back to teach the kid from the morning some English. After "class" I hung out with the family. I had bought some peanuts and Budweisers in town, so we shared them and had a small Independence Day party. They though the beer was good, but too cold (I had put them in the fridge for an hour). The older Grandma and the two-year old tried the beer and both were impressed. (Note: the two-year old´s condition got worse on Tuesday, so they took her to the Hospital. She is fine now, but I guess spitting booze on here didn´t work after all...surprising.) Later, I made a ham and cheese sandwich and sat in my room listening to music. I hate to admit it, but I got really homesick while listening to Willie Nelson´s version of "City of New Orleans". I was thinking of everybody being together and having fun and well, "Good morning America, how are ya?", it got to me.
This was the last week of classes at the school. Graduation was on Friday and the teachers asked me to come to the ceremony. It was nice, and they even had me sit on stage and help hand out diplomas. I had to call out the students names. Luckily they were all easy ones. After that we had a Guinea Pig lunch and then drank and danced in a classroom for 6 hours. During the afternoon, I took a break and went outside to play with the kids. They were kicking a tennis ball around and I told them to throw it to me. This turned into me throwing the ball across the yard. They were all impressed at how far I could throw it (It wasn´t far for me but miles for them). Soon we had a crowd and there were probably 12 parents and 30 kids Oohing and Aahing at every toss.
The next day I took a 4 hour bus ride with the family to their relatives house for a Birthday party. I had met the girl whose B-Day it was, so I thought it would be fun. I didn´t know it, but turning 15 is a big deal down here. It is the "coming of age" for a girl. The girl got all dressed up and the house was cleared for guests. We first went to a special mass for her. It was interesting at the mass. She was sitting up front with her family like the wedding party. She had came wearing slipper, but in the middle of mass, she switched to high-heels that her Godmother had brought on a pillow. After mass, we went to the house for toasts and special dances. It was just like a wedding. They had prepared a ton of good food, so I ate like a king. The the DJ started playing music and people began to dance and pass bottles. I was tired of dancing from the night before, but I ended up staying up until 4:30. I can´t say that I had a good time, but it was better than being at home. I was disappointed to see the girl drinking heavily. By 1:00 she was fall down drunk(The same as her parents). They grow up quicker down here, but I really don´t agree with someone that young getting hammered. I eventually made it to bed (I say bed, but I had to sleep on the floor), but the party was still going on. I only got 2-3 hours of sleep that night and was glad to get back to L.L. the next day in time to help the ladies of the community bank write some correspondence on the computer and then get to bed early.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Finishing the Fun with Female Fowl
How´s that for alliteration! [For those of you who didn´t read the last post, you may want to do that now. This is the second pat of a "To Be Continued..."]
3) Hen Games - Last Sunday I went with the family to the next town over for the Fiesta de San Juan (St. John the Baptist). We got there around noon and first thing, headed to church for mass. It was packed, so we had to stand in the back. I almost left after 10 minutes because it was so crowded and stuffy that I couldn´t breath. People were smashing me, but since I was in church, I thought it better to leave than to punch an old lady in the face. I ended up staying because I didn´t want the family to think I was weak.
After Church, we jumped in the back of a truck and drove across town to a house party. I didn´t know who lived there or why we went there, but we showed up, ate lunch, and then took off. Free lunch, I´m not complaining. We then walked back to town and headed up to the soccer field. The young son said we were going to the "Juegos de Gallinas". This would translate into "Hen Games". I thought this would be some kind of feminist Cock-Fight, but I was way off. The soccer field was packed with about 1,000 people drinking and dancing and a lot of guys and girls on horseback. I had seen the riders earlier when we first got into town, and I remember wondering why the all were holding chickens. Now I found out why. The riders were all at one end of the field and took turns riding around waving their chickens windmill style. The people in the field were waiting fr the riders to come by them so that they could grab a chicken to take home and eat. That was the game! Drunk horse riders swinging live chickens while riding full blast through a crowd of drunken chicken fiends. We just stood by the side and watched the craziness. I´m surprised that no one got hurt, although I heard that in the past, people had been seriously injured. I did see a couple of guys get run over, but they got up, brushed themselves off, and walked away smiling. When all the chickens had been grabbed, the people stayed to drink and dance. I knew one of the girls on a horse, so she let me ride for a while. The people got a kick out of seeing the 6´2" Gringo on a tiny horse. I told them that next time I´d need a bigger ride. They gave me a cowboy hat and a chicken to hold and everybody took pictures. I don´t know if they were laughing at me or with me, but at least I was entertaining.
After this we hung around for a while and then went back into town. The party was just getting really started (6 stages with music and a ton of people dancing and drinking), but it was time to go. I wish I could have stayed, but I thought it was better to stay with the family. It was funny though. When I went to dance with a friend while we were waiting, the family made me give them my phone to hold so I wouldn´t lose it again. Apparently I have gotten a reputation for not being able to hold my phone while dancing.
It is summer now and very windy, so I´ve had a problem taking a shower. I know you´re wondering, "What does wind have to do with showering?", but since my water heater is outside, it matters a lot. I got sick of the flame blowing out three time a shower and getting frozen, so I built a wind break out of feed sacks, plastic string, rocks, sticks, and old tires. So far it has worked like a charm and my twice a week shower is bearable again.
I played some stickball with the kids this week using a tennis ball and a broom stick. The kids couldn´t hit, so I hit all the time and they fetched the balls. It was nice to swing a bat again, and I think my wind aided longest hit of about 275 feet may be a new La Libertad record.
On the subject of Baseball, here are some Latin American terms that I like. "Punchar". This means to strike out. The noun is "Puncha", as in "Two strikes, Wainwright on the mound, the pitch...PUNCHA!! Cardinals win the World Series." Also, a pitcher is called a "Lanzador", and a batter is a "Bateador".
The two-year old girl of the family was sick the other day and for medicine, they singed a handful of weeds and rubbed it all over her body. Next, the Grandmother took a big swig of cane alcohol and spit it over the girls chest and face. I don´t know if the alcohol evaporates and cools the body, or if it dissolves the oils in the plant and helps it absorb, but as for as home remedies go, I´ll take Chicken Noodle Soup. (Note: Karol was much better the next day, and now is 100%).
I finally got sheets for my bed this week, so for the first time in two months, I´m sleeping out of my sleeping bag. My two blankets aren´t enough though, so I put the bag on top of me. I guess under is better than in, and I should be getting an electric blanket from a friend soon, so I´ll be fine.
3) Hen Games - Last Sunday I went with the family to the next town over for the Fiesta de San Juan (St. John the Baptist). We got there around noon and first thing, headed to church for mass. It was packed, so we had to stand in the back. I almost left after 10 minutes because it was so crowded and stuffy that I couldn´t breath. People were smashing me, but since I was in church, I thought it better to leave than to punch an old lady in the face. I ended up staying because I didn´t want the family to think I was weak.
After Church, we jumped in the back of a truck and drove across town to a house party. I didn´t know who lived there or why we went there, but we showed up, ate lunch, and then took off. Free lunch, I´m not complaining. We then walked back to town and headed up to the soccer field. The young son said we were going to the "Juegos de Gallinas". This would translate into "Hen Games". I thought this would be some kind of feminist Cock-Fight, but I was way off. The soccer field was packed with about 1,000 people drinking and dancing and a lot of guys and girls on horseback. I had seen the riders earlier when we first got into town, and I remember wondering why the all were holding chickens. Now I found out why. The riders were all at one end of the field and took turns riding around waving their chickens windmill style. The people in the field were waiting fr the riders to come by them so that they could grab a chicken to take home and eat. That was the game! Drunk horse riders swinging live chickens while riding full blast through a crowd of drunken chicken fiends. We just stood by the side and watched the craziness. I´m surprised that no one got hurt, although I heard that in the past, people had been seriously injured. I did see a couple of guys get run over, but they got up, brushed themselves off, and walked away smiling. When all the chickens had been grabbed, the people stayed to drink and dance. I knew one of the girls on a horse, so she let me ride for a while. The people got a kick out of seeing the 6´2" Gringo on a tiny horse. I told them that next time I´d need a bigger ride. They gave me a cowboy hat and a chicken to hold and everybody took pictures. I don´t know if they were laughing at me or with me, but at least I was entertaining.
After this we hung around for a while and then went back into town. The party was just getting really started (6 stages with music and a ton of people dancing and drinking), but it was time to go. I wish I could have stayed, but I thought it was better to stay with the family. It was funny though. When I went to dance with a friend while we were waiting, the family made me give them my phone to hold so I wouldn´t lose it again. Apparently I have gotten a reputation for not being able to hold my phone while dancing.
It is summer now and very windy, so I´ve had a problem taking a shower. I know you´re wondering, "What does wind have to do with showering?", but since my water heater is outside, it matters a lot. I got sick of the flame blowing out three time a shower and getting frozen, so I built a wind break out of feed sacks, plastic string, rocks, sticks, and old tires. So far it has worked like a charm and my twice a week shower is bearable again.
I played some stickball with the kids this week using a tennis ball and a broom stick. The kids couldn´t hit, so I hit all the time and they fetched the balls. It was nice to swing a bat again, and I think my wind aided longest hit of about 275 feet may be a new La Libertad record.
On the subject of Baseball, here are some Latin American terms that I like. "Punchar". This means to strike out. The noun is "Puncha", as in "Two strikes, Wainwright on the mound, the pitch...PUNCHA!! Cardinals win the World Series." Also, a pitcher is called a "Lanzador", and a batter is a "Bateador".
The two-year old girl of the family was sick the other day and for medicine, they singed a handful of weeds and rubbed it all over her body. Next, the Grandmother took a big swig of cane alcohol and spit it over the girls chest and face. I don´t know if the alcohol evaporates and cools the body, or if it dissolves the oils in the plant and helps it absorb, but as for as home remedies go, I´ll take Chicken Noodle Soup. (Note: Karol was much better the next day, and now is 100%).
I finally got sheets for my bed this week, so for the first time in two months, I´m sleeping out of my sleeping bag. My two blankets aren´t enough though, so I put the bag on top of me. I guess under is better than in, and I should be getting an electric blanket from a friend soon, so I´ll be fine.
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