Damn this day job! It interferes so much with my REAL life, my fiber life. Between a correspondence course on line, a presentation and class observation with another instructor, getting evaluated, and a full day of teaching, I'm not getting the proper quality time with my projects. Knitting with the mermaid blue/green/purple roving has become so addicting; just watching those gorgeous colors slip through my finger is mesmerizing. It's been quite an interesting experiment so far. I'm not advancing as fast as I'd like, partially due to a little vegetable matter (VM) that's cropping up as I split the roving and draft it out to the thickness that I want for knitting. And partially due to the fact that I spend a lot of time just staring at the colors and imagining that I'm in a clean, clear river in the mountains.
Septimus Heap is over for now. Wah. It was a fast and fun read, but now I have to wait to get the next volume until I go visiting Barnes & Noble when I go home next month. The SH series is a result of the Harry Potter craze, but these books are a little more gentle and less violent. Not that there's a lack of danger and adventure - there is plenty - but it's handled in a way that's more suited for a younger reader. So it focuses a little more on the fun aspect of the magical imagination than Harry Potter does. Things also take place outside of the walls of the castle, in the forest, in the Marsh, in the Badlands, and in the Ramblings, and things seem a little more verdant and fresh, and not so dark. Plus the characters are kind of different. The story is a little less sophisticated than Harry Potter, and so are the characters. I definitely recommend The Septimus Heap series if you want a fun, quick read! The good thing is that there doesn't seem to be an end to the series looming on the horizon.
And, speaking of going home, I really cannot wait to go! It's been 2 years since I've had a vacation, and I'm ready. It's been 2 years since I've spent much time at all out of the smog and car exhaust. I need a few lungfuls of clean country air, even if it's flavored with eau d' dairy cow, goat, or alpaca. Plus, I need some clothes. My work clothes are getting worn out and I seem to be too big to be able to find affordable clothing and footwear here. My tennis shoes have several holes in them now and the soles are so smooth that I get no traction at all with them.
*Sigh* It's time to get ready for work again. See you later.
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Aug 12, 2009
May 4, 2008
Weekend in the Country
This weekend was kind of a long one. I still don't have batteries for my camera.
We went away for the weekend. It was a holiday weekend, 4 days, and we were gone from Thursday through Saturday. We rented a bungalow at a gated park for military and took Celeste. As usual, O invited his entire world to come stay with us. He loves to have all his friends around him. I prefer quiet weekends, and normally I have them, but not this time.
We went to the military hospital to pick up one friend, Jorge (who apparently loves his new digital camera), then stopped in Rimac to pick up Flover and his family. Flover had called us at 9 am and said, "Hurry! We're ready to go!" We packed our stuff up and got there at 10:30, after stopping at the store to get food for the day and evening, and gassing up the car. Then we waited for Flover and Rosa to bring get their stuff in the car. We waited from 10:30 am till almost 2 pm. Poor Flover, he kept coming out to the car, saying "Just a couple more minutes, just a couple more minutes," but Rosa was apparently packing up the whole house for the 3 days and 2 nights. By noon, O was whuffing down his shirt collar and Celeste was getting tired of being on the leash. Jorge had taken about a dozen photos of us with Celeste, himself, and Flover (running out to the car). By 1:30, O was gnashing his teeth and thinking about cancelling and Celeste was downright obnoxious. Flover had made about 25 trips to the car to tell us to wait just two more minutes. Jorge had filled his memory card with photos and changed out the card in his camera before posing himself and working out the timer thing. Finally, Rosa shoved her 3 squalling scuffling boys out the door and screamed at Flover to drag a 50 pound duffle bag, three garbage bags full of blankets, a soccer ball and a basketball, and 3 backpacks to the car. The three boys jammed themselves into the car, the two older boys picking at each other and squabbling over a 15 cent bag of potato chips and the youngest (6 years old) whined about not being able to pick at the older two. Rosa, short and stout, squashed herself into the seat and Flover squeezed in to take the youngest on his lap.
We were off. Jorge joked and laughed from the rear of the car, snapping photos of open-mouthed kids in mid-squall and open-mouthed Flover as he snored. Rosa sniffed and tutted when Celeste relaxed and released a small green cloud. O calmly rolled down the windows and turned up the radio another 10 decibels.
An hour's drive and we arrived just outside the park to eat lunch at one of several roadside stands that catered to travelers with hot food. Overcooked boiled chicken and rice wasn't the greatest, but it was cooked nevertheless and safe to eat. Well, mostly safe, anyway. Probably.
The park was fenced with chain link and the gate closed, so Celeste was released to play after we parked and unloaded into the bungalow. So began our weekend adventure.
The park is about 10 acres of grass and bungalows, with a small creek that runs through it, a swimming pool, a dining room that is only open once a day and I don't know when that might be, a mini-market, barbeque grills and a picnic area. The bungalow had 3 bedrooms and a huge living room/dining area, a nice-sized bathroom, and a small kitchen area with nothing in it. A generous herd of cockroaches thrown in for free.
Celeste was having a grand time, running free through the park, checking out the barbeque areas for sticks, bones and leftovers thrown on the ground. She found so much garbage to eat that she turned down her dinner of regular dog food. She also thought she had found friends! Three dogs from the surrounding neighborhood also spent their days hunting for leftovers in the park. One was a stout yellow male with a curly tail. Another one was a swaggering black Peruvian hairless female, about Celeste's height and about 10 pounds heavier, who couldn't keep her tongue in her mouth for some odd reason. The third was a smallish nondescript brown female. For a while they got on pretty well, until the yellow male began to try to come into our bungalow to eat Celeste's dogfood. Then the three began to corner Celeste in front of the bungalow and threaten her..."Hand over the dogfood, city girl!" Celeste tolerated it for the first day, but on the second day she'd had enough.
The little brown female hung around us while we were outside having a picnic that evening. Celeste was there, kids handing her food under the table. The brown dog pushed her way under the table and began to snarl at Celeste, who stood her ground. Growls grew louder and kids scattered, then a bundle of bristling hair and flashing teeth exploded under the table. The table overturned as Celeste got her butt whipped by the smaller, more experienced dog. No wounds, just a lot of vicious roaring and wrestling around. After the episode was over, Celeste retired to the bungalow and crawled under the bed to spend the night dreaming about her first fight.
That evening as well, Percy and his family arrived to squeeze into the bungalow, 4 of them sharing tow single beds. Sometime during the night, someone had gotten sick and puked in the sink. Apparently the over cooked chicken wasn't THAT safe. Did you know that they turn off the water at 5 pm there at the park? That makes toilet flushing impossible and we had a dozen people in the house on the second night. It also makes it impossible to clean the sink very well after someone has barfed.
On the third day, we ate a small breakfast of fruit and bread, then went out to walk through the park. The food at the roadside stand hadn't been that great and I had discovered just how many cockroaches there were in the bathroom at 3 am. The floor seemed to move with them...I kept my shoes close at hand after that. Celeste played through the morning, keeping a sharp eye on the three other dogs, who periodically challenged her. She continued to stand her ground, although it obviously stressed her out. Around noon, we all piled into the car again to find a restaurant for lunch. Celeste was content to stay inside the bungalow and sleep - on top of the bed this time. After lunch we loaded our stuff in the car while Celeste barked at us to hurry, apparently ready to go home. It only took Rosa an hour to pack up to go home.
The kids squabbled for about 10 minutes in the car before falling asleep. Jorge's camera battery mercifully was dead. Both Rosa and Flover put their sunglasses on and began to snore. Celeste hung her head out the car window and fell asleep there. We arrived home about 4 pm and Celeste went straight to her crate to sleep through the rest of the afternoon and into this morning.
Let's do this again sometime, shall we?
We went away for the weekend. It was a holiday weekend, 4 days, and we were gone from Thursday through Saturday. We rented a bungalow at a gated park for military and took Celeste. As usual, O invited his entire world to come stay with us. He loves to have all his friends around him. I prefer quiet weekends, and normally I have them, but not this time.
We went to the military hospital to pick up one friend, Jorge (who apparently loves his new digital camera), then stopped in Rimac to pick up Flover and his family. Flover had called us at 9 am and said, "Hurry! We're ready to go!" We packed our stuff up and got there at 10:30, after stopping at the store to get food for the day and evening, and gassing up the car. Then we waited for Flover and Rosa to bring get their stuff in the car. We waited from 10:30 am till almost 2 pm. Poor Flover, he kept coming out to the car, saying "Just a couple more minutes, just a couple more minutes," but Rosa was apparently packing up the whole house for the 3 days and 2 nights. By noon, O was whuffing down his shirt collar and Celeste was getting tired of being on the leash. Jorge had taken about a dozen photos of us with Celeste, himself, and Flover (running out to the car). By 1:30, O was gnashing his teeth and thinking about cancelling and Celeste was downright obnoxious. Flover had made about 25 trips to the car to tell us to wait just two more minutes. Jorge had filled his memory card with photos and changed out the card in his camera before posing himself and working out the timer thing. Finally, Rosa shoved her 3 squalling scuffling boys out the door and screamed at Flover to drag a 50 pound duffle bag, three garbage bags full of blankets, a soccer ball and a basketball, and 3 backpacks to the car. The three boys jammed themselves into the car, the two older boys picking at each other and squabbling over a 15 cent bag of potato chips and the youngest (6 years old) whined about not being able to pick at the older two. Rosa, short and stout, squashed herself into the seat and Flover squeezed in to take the youngest on his lap.
We were off. Jorge joked and laughed from the rear of the car, snapping photos of open-mouthed kids in mid-squall and open-mouthed Flover as he snored. Rosa sniffed and tutted when Celeste relaxed and released a small green cloud. O calmly rolled down the windows and turned up the radio another 10 decibels.
An hour's drive and we arrived just outside the park to eat lunch at one of several roadside stands that catered to travelers with hot food. Overcooked boiled chicken and rice wasn't the greatest, but it was cooked nevertheless and safe to eat. Well, mostly safe, anyway. Probably.
The park was fenced with chain link and the gate closed, so Celeste was released to play after we parked and unloaded into the bungalow. So began our weekend adventure.
The park is about 10 acres of grass and bungalows, with a small creek that runs through it, a swimming pool, a dining room that is only open once a day and I don't know when that might be, a mini-market, barbeque grills and a picnic area. The bungalow had 3 bedrooms and a huge living room/dining area, a nice-sized bathroom, and a small kitchen area with nothing in it. A generous herd of cockroaches thrown in for free.
Celeste was having a grand time, running free through the park, checking out the barbeque areas for sticks, bones and leftovers thrown on the ground. She found so much garbage to eat that she turned down her dinner of regular dog food. She also thought she had found friends! Three dogs from the surrounding neighborhood also spent their days hunting for leftovers in the park. One was a stout yellow male with a curly tail. Another one was a swaggering black Peruvian hairless female, about Celeste's height and about 10 pounds heavier, who couldn't keep her tongue in her mouth for some odd reason. The third was a smallish nondescript brown female. For a while they got on pretty well, until the yellow male began to try to come into our bungalow to eat Celeste's dogfood. Then the three began to corner Celeste in front of the bungalow and threaten her..."Hand over the dogfood, city girl!" Celeste tolerated it for the first day, but on the second day she'd had enough.
The little brown female hung around us while we were outside having a picnic that evening. Celeste was there, kids handing her food under the table. The brown dog pushed her way under the table and began to snarl at Celeste, who stood her ground. Growls grew louder and kids scattered, then a bundle of bristling hair and flashing teeth exploded under the table. The table overturned as Celeste got her butt whipped by the smaller, more experienced dog. No wounds, just a lot of vicious roaring and wrestling around. After the episode was over, Celeste retired to the bungalow and crawled under the bed to spend the night dreaming about her first fight.
That evening as well, Percy and his family arrived to squeeze into the bungalow, 4 of them sharing tow single beds. Sometime during the night, someone had gotten sick and puked in the sink. Apparently the over cooked chicken wasn't THAT safe. Did you know that they turn off the water at 5 pm there at the park? That makes toilet flushing impossible and we had a dozen people in the house on the second night. It also makes it impossible to clean the sink very well after someone has barfed.
On the third day, we ate a small breakfast of fruit and bread, then went out to walk through the park. The food at the roadside stand hadn't been that great and I had discovered just how many cockroaches there were in the bathroom at 3 am. The floor seemed to move with them...I kept my shoes close at hand after that. Celeste played through the morning, keeping a sharp eye on the three other dogs, who periodically challenged her. She continued to stand her ground, although it obviously stressed her out. Around noon, we all piled into the car again to find a restaurant for lunch. Celeste was content to stay inside the bungalow and sleep - on top of the bed this time. After lunch we loaded our stuff in the car while Celeste barked at us to hurry, apparently ready to go home. It only took Rosa an hour to pack up to go home.
The kids squabbled for about 10 minutes in the car before falling asleep. Jorge's camera battery mercifully was dead. Both Rosa and Flover put their sunglasses on and began to snore. Celeste hung her head out the car window and fell asleep there. We arrived home about 4 pm and Celeste went straight to her crate to sleep through the rest of the afternoon and into this morning.
Let's do this again sometime, shall we?
Apr 10, 2008
Escape from the City
Part 5
While Celeste was dealing with the kids, I slept a lot. During the first couple of days, I heard the screams and squeals of the kids, the cries of "Celeste! Where are you?", a quick clattering of dog toenails on tile floors, and the subsequent whuffling and scrunching sounds under the bed as Celeste hid herself deeper in the darkness below.
On the third day, I arose like a flame from the bed, refreshed and decidedly without cough, snort, or snot. Thank heaven. I was ready to go play in Trujillo. After a leisurely breakfast, O and I put Celeste out of the main part of the house and up on the rooftop, to escape the kids and enjoy the view. We had to drrraaag her from her hideaway under the bed. Then we left the house and went out to visit O's old college friends and have lunch. Celeste serenaded us from the rooftop in typical Siberian siren style - throaty yodeling with a few wolfish high notes.
In Peru, "visiting friends" usually means having drinks, mostly beer. This is a little hard for me, because I only drink beer on occasion and I have to be in the mood for it. This day, I wan't in the mood for it, so we brought bottles of water. The people that we visited were gracious about it...some are offended if guests don't drink with them, but I chalk this up to insecurities about themselves ("Oh, we're not good enough to drink with?", etc) so I usually just continue with water.
These friends, however, were just fine. Along with my water and the offered beer, we had a snack of canchitas (fried corn kernels), and shredded yellow chilies and onions mixed with salt and lime juice on the side. The idea is to take a mouthful of corn and a teaspoon full of the onion/chili/lime/salt mixture together. It's a great remedy for plugged noses - spicy, but not enough to really torch the mouth and cause discomfort. And quick to make. Shredded hot peppers and shredded onions marinated in lime juice and salt are typical and almost overly common flavors here in Peru. Hot peppers in various forms and lime slices are included on the side of almost every dish.
After we spent a few hours with them, we started back to the house. I say "started" because we got another invitation to visit from someone else on the way. So on to another house for water and beer. But this house was filled with people rapidly becoming drunk, so we didn't stay long. For me, the only people who enjoy being with drunks are other drunks. Happily, O understood that even though some of them were his friends, I was uncomfortable around so many who were unsteady on their feet. We left and headed to a restaurant for lunch.
Lunch was the absolute best ceviche I've had in a very long time. It was a mixture of sea foods, ranging from regular sea bass to tiny squid and scallops. Spicy and marinated in strong lime and salt, it was wonderful. Garnished with a couple of slices of sweet potato, corn, shredded onions, and sea vegetable of some sort. We had a lemonade to drink and they restaurant played typical Peruvian music, but not too loudly. It was great!
While Celeste was dealing with the kids, I slept a lot. During the first couple of days, I heard the screams and squeals of the kids, the cries of "Celeste! Where are you?", a quick clattering of dog toenails on tile floors, and the subsequent whuffling and scrunching sounds under the bed as Celeste hid herself deeper in the darkness below.
On the third day, I arose like a flame from the bed, refreshed and decidedly without cough, snort, or snot. Thank heaven. I was ready to go play in Trujillo. After a leisurely breakfast, O and I put Celeste out of the main part of the house and up on the rooftop, to escape the kids and enjoy the view. We had to drrraaag her from her hideaway under the bed. Then we left the house and went out to visit O's old college friends and have lunch. Celeste serenaded us from the rooftop in typical Siberian siren style - throaty yodeling with a few wolfish high notes.
In Peru, "visiting friends" usually means having drinks, mostly beer. This is a little hard for me, because I only drink beer on occasion and I have to be in the mood for it. This day, I wan't in the mood for it, so we brought bottles of water. The people that we visited were gracious about it...some are offended if guests don't drink with them, but I chalk this up to insecurities about themselves ("Oh, we're not good enough to drink with?", etc) so I usually just continue with water.
These friends, however, were just fine. Along with my water and the offered beer, we had a snack of canchitas (fried corn kernels), and shredded yellow chilies and onions mixed with salt and lime juice on the side. The idea is to take a mouthful of corn and a teaspoon full of the onion/chili/lime/salt mixture together. It's a great remedy for plugged noses - spicy, but not enough to really torch the mouth and cause discomfort. And quick to make. Shredded hot peppers and shredded onions marinated in lime juice and salt are typical and almost overly common flavors here in Peru. Hot peppers in various forms and lime slices are included on the side of almost every dish.
After we spent a few hours with them, we started back to the house. I say "started" because we got another invitation to visit from someone else on the way. So on to another house for water and beer. But this house was filled with people rapidly becoming drunk, so we didn't stay long. For me, the only people who enjoy being with drunks are other drunks. Happily, O understood that even though some of them were his friends, I was uncomfortable around so many who were unsteady on their feet. We left and headed to a restaurant for lunch.
Lunch was the absolute best ceviche I've had in a very long time. It was a mixture of sea foods, ranging from regular sea bass to tiny squid and scallops. Spicy and marinated in strong lime and salt, it was wonderful. Garnished with a couple of slices of sweet potato, corn, shredded onions, and sea vegetable of some sort. We had a lemonade to drink and they restaurant played typical Peruvian music, but not too loudly. It was great!
Mar 29, 2008
Escape From the City
Part 4
Just because Trujillo is a smaller city does not mean that it's any different than Lima in the way people drive. In fact, they drive worse. I didn't know it was possible, but it's true. Maybe because there are fewer cars on the street, drivers feel they can take more risks and nothing will happen. I don't know. What I do know is that there is that prevailing attitude of "You've got brakes - use them," meaning that anyone can pull out in front of anyone else at any given time and all will be well. Maybe.
As we drove into Trujillo's downtown area, taxi drivers were passing us with abandon and just a waggle of a finger to let us know that they were going to cut in front of us. If it hadn't been such a relief to had arrived, we would have been cranky. And the atmosphere was almost festive as we made our way to the Pablo Casales Institute of Superior Technology. This is where we stayed. Actually, it is an enormous house with a laboratory downstairs and classrooms upstairs. In all, it is a huge 5-story building. The founder of this institute is Juan Carlos Cansino. O is one of the co-founders. We stayed on the residential floor where Juan and his family live. Celeste had the run of the rest of the place, since classes were not in session till the following week.
The resident dog there at the Institute is Bingo. Bingo is a little white rag mop of a dog, but there is no doubt that he owns the place. He stands guard at the front door during the day and patrols the hallways at night. The rooftop is his watch tower and also serves as the night time potty (this being a concept that Celeste never embraced.) It should be dog heaven. At first, Celeste thought it was, until Bingo wouldn't let her near the door the residence and made it quite clear that he was in no mood for foolishness. Wah! Foolishness is what Celeste is all about!
The first night, Celeste disregarded the idea of going to the rooftop to the potty and instead chose to unload at the foot of the stairs in front of Juan's office. She was shown the error of her ways and banned to the rooftop for an afternoon. After several hours of singing Siberian Husky songs, she was allowed to come down and burst into the residence at the first opportunity. She leapt on the unsuspecting children, expecting to be played with but instead was hauled out the door to spent her time (apparently) climbing 5 flights of stairs over and over. Bingo watched calmly from his spot at the front door.
On the second day, Celeste endeared herself to the children of the house and in doing so, was allowed to come into the house all through the day, but not at night when she seemed to roam through all the classrooms, check the trash cans in every room, potty in a different place every time nature called, and climb the stairs. They enjoyed her and even the maid found time to play and slip Celeste a few crumbs left over from a meal. Ahhh...Celeste Heaven...
Life in Celeste Heaven soon turned to Celeste Hell as her body protested the constant pacing and climbing stairs and being dragged into bedrooms and throughout the house, with children hanging from her neck and tail, hanging across her back, fingers in her ears, in her mouth, and up her nose, patting her head just a little too hard, and dressing her in their own clothing. She tried to escape her tormentors by sliding into our bedroom, but was always discovered, just as she made herself comfortable on the floor. By the end of the second day, young Celeste was walking like an eighty-year-old, body aching and mentally stressed out.
By the third day, she did not stop to check the food bowls; she did not pause at the counter to see what might have been left after lunch; she did not take a turn under the dining room table to check out the crumbs left. To do so would have meant spending the afternoon wrestling and being ridden, lain upon, pulled around by the collar and all those other things that children love to do with dogs. Kids. Not exactly how Celeste had imagined them.
On that third day, Celeste had taken to creeping quietly to our bedroom and hiding under the bed.
Just because Trujillo is a smaller city does not mean that it's any different than Lima in the way people drive. In fact, they drive worse. I didn't know it was possible, but it's true. Maybe because there are fewer cars on the street, drivers feel they can take more risks and nothing will happen. I don't know. What I do know is that there is that prevailing attitude of "You've got brakes - use them," meaning that anyone can pull out in front of anyone else at any given time and all will be well. Maybe.
As we drove into Trujillo's downtown area, taxi drivers were passing us with abandon and just a waggle of a finger to let us know that they were going to cut in front of us. If it hadn't been such a relief to had arrived, we would have been cranky. And the atmosphere was almost festive as we made our way to the Pablo Casales Institute of Superior Technology. This is where we stayed. Actually, it is an enormous house with a laboratory downstairs and classrooms upstairs. In all, it is a huge 5-story building. The founder of this institute is Juan Carlos Cansino. O is one of the co-founders. We stayed on the residential floor where Juan and his family live. Celeste had the run of the rest of the place, since classes were not in session till the following week.
The resident dog there at the Institute is Bingo. Bingo is a little white rag mop of a dog, but there is no doubt that he owns the place. He stands guard at the front door during the day and patrols the hallways at night. The rooftop is his watch tower and also serves as the night time potty (this being a concept that Celeste never embraced.) It should be dog heaven. At first, Celeste thought it was, until Bingo wouldn't let her near the door the residence and made it quite clear that he was in no mood for foolishness. Wah! Foolishness is what Celeste is all about!
The first night, Celeste disregarded the idea of going to the rooftop to the potty and instead chose to unload at the foot of the stairs in front of Juan's office. She was shown the error of her ways and banned to the rooftop for an afternoon. After several hours of singing Siberian Husky songs, she was allowed to come down and burst into the residence at the first opportunity. She leapt on the unsuspecting children, expecting to be played with but instead was hauled out the door to spent her time (apparently) climbing 5 flights of stairs over and over. Bingo watched calmly from his spot at the front door.
On the second day, Celeste endeared herself to the children of the house and in doing so, was allowed to come into the house all through the day, but not at night when she seemed to roam through all the classrooms, check the trash cans in every room, potty in a different place every time nature called, and climb the stairs. They enjoyed her and even the maid found time to play and slip Celeste a few crumbs left over from a meal. Ahhh...Celeste Heaven...
Life in Celeste Heaven soon turned to Celeste Hell as her body protested the constant pacing and climbing stairs and being dragged into bedrooms and throughout the house, with children hanging from her neck and tail, hanging across her back, fingers in her ears, in her mouth, and up her nose, patting her head just a little too hard, and dressing her in their own clothing. She tried to escape her tormentors by sliding into our bedroom, but was always discovered, just as she made herself comfortable on the floor. By the end of the second day, young Celeste was walking like an eighty-year-old, body aching and mentally stressed out.
By the third day, she did not stop to check the food bowls; she did not pause at the counter to see what might have been left after lunch; she did not take a turn under the dining room table to check out the crumbs left. To do so would have meant spending the afternoon wrestling and being ridden, lain upon, pulled around by the collar and all those other things that children love to do with dogs. Kids. Not exactly how Celeste had imagined them.
On that third day, Celeste had taken to creeping quietly to our bedroom and hiding under the bed.
Mar 26, 2008
Escape From the City
Passing through the small towns eventually gave way to passing through larger cities and as we neared Trujillo, we lost site of the coast. We moved into irrigated farmland and cleaner air, although it was kind of hot. The air conditioner was such a blessing, but we discovered that it was not properly vented and the condensation wasn't going anywhere except on the floor of the front passenger side. Hmmm. The air conditioning got turned off for a while, in hopes that some of the water would evaporate.
Celeste continued to snooze in the back seat and we enjoyed the green of the farms. Most of these farms are cooperatives - the neighbors all work their lands, but share equipment. Usually there are only one or two tractors in the coop and everyone must wait his turn to use them. Donkeys and horses are still extensively used to work the land and lots of hand labor goes into harvest. It was time for the onions to be harvested and we saw dozens of semis loaded with bags of onions...one of them overturned on the Pan American highway and another whose strapping had come loose and flung bagged onions across the highway. Several people were on the road, clearing it of spilled onions. More field labor on the farms that we passed, digging and bagging onions by hand. I don't envy them the work. I know that field work is back-breaking work.
Moving out of the farms, we headed into the port city of Chimbote, one of the major fishing cities in Peru and also a producer of steel. Most people that I know don't stop in Chimbote for anything except to refuel the car, if necessary. It is one of two most violent cities in Peru. Callao (also a port city, located inside Lima) is the other. I'm not sure why they are so violent. Some people say that the poverty is the cause, that the employers don't pay a living wage. That may be part it. The part that gets me the most is the smell of the place. Hanging over the city like an ugly cloud is the stench of rotting fish. It's terrible. We rolled up the windows and hoped that Celeste had a case of the gas to blot out the reek of dead fish.
On the north side of Chimbote, we returned to the desert. There was not much in the way of traffic there, and not much of anything, except patches of irrigated farms, all cooperatives. They had signs at the front with a gate across the road, saying who owned the land, and then living tree fences of some kind of thorn-producing bush. Thorns that were about 4 inches in length. I imagine they were planted there to deter thieves. An interesting side note is that semi tractor-trailers tie similar thorny branches on the back of their trailers to keep thieves from climbing onto the tractor trailer and stealing whatever the trucker is hauling. Those thorns are wicked-looking.
So, north of Chimbote is Trujillo, about 2 hours to the north. We arrived in Trujillo about 3:30 that afternoon and felt a distinct small-townishness. Trujillo has about 100,000 people in it - a fraction of the 10 million that live in Lima. Trujillo in known as the city of the Eternal Spring. It is always pleasantly warm with coolish nights. The buildings are painted in pastel colors throughout the city, but especially noticeable around the city center - the Plaza de Armas.
photo by Christina Fish. I, of course, did not think to take any photos as usual.
Mar 25, 2008
Escape from the City
Part 2
As the traffic thinned out, I felt increasingly relaxed about drifting off periodically, Celeste snored obliviously on her towel, and O drove on like a determined Liman taxi driver. The wind blew, but now had turned hot, so O put up the windows and started the air conditioner. Ahhhhh...bliss. About 10 am, we blew into a little town to eat breakfast.
Celeste woke up, hopped out, and we took a short turn down the block to do her "business". She dutifully stepped off the sidewalk when nature called, and watched people as they passed. She always looks pleased with herself when she remembers to be courteous and handles her "business" off the sidewalk. She doesn't seem to notice that I'm with her, plastic bag and scooper at the ready. When she encounters a pile left in the middle of the walk by some other less cultured perrito, Celeste leaps to the side to avoid stepping in the nasty mess, a look of distain on her face. I know she learned that behavior from me. I'm hoping that with time, she'll begin to carry her own plastic bag and scooper.
We turned back up the block to return to O and find a restaurant. We stepped inside a little mom and pop place and Celeste took her favored spot by the wall, under the table. O ordered fried fish, I got chicken soup. Celeste got dog food and a fish tail and bit of chicken skin for dessert with a stale hard roll for a good chaw while we finished our meal.
After we ate, we climbed back into the car. Celeste looked at the front seat, but thought better of it and went to her towel. I fell back into the car and began sawing logs. I know this because I woke myself up two or three times with my own snoring. O roared up the street into the heart of the little town, and must have had several sudden stops and starts, because the next time I looked back at Celeste, she was still asleep, but off the seat and on the floor, towel draped over her back.
I woke up in time to see the sand dunes and the Pacific coastline close to the highway. The next time I woke up, I saw nothing but sand. Peruvian music was blaring on the radio and I fell asleep again. Gads, I was wiped out. We stopped at 7 toll booths on the way to Trujillo. SEVEN! The worst thing about it was that the highway, although it was going to be beautiful, hadn't been worked on for months and we were paying to travel through tiny, traffic-clogged villages. Charming at first, interesting later, tedious and irritating at the last.
As the traffic thinned out, I felt increasingly relaxed about drifting off periodically, Celeste snored obliviously on her towel, and O drove on like a determined Liman taxi driver. The wind blew, but now had turned hot, so O put up the windows and started the air conditioner. Ahhhhh...bliss. About 10 am, we blew into a little town to eat breakfast.
Celeste woke up, hopped out, and we took a short turn down the block to do her "business". She dutifully stepped off the sidewalk when nature called, and watched people as they passed. She always looks pleased with herself when she remembers to be courteous and handles her "business" off the sidewalk. She doesn't seem to notice that I'm with her, plastic bag and scooper at the ready. When she encounters a pile left in the middle of the walk by some other less cultured perrito, Celeste leaps to the side to avoid stepping in the nasty mess, a look of distain on her face. I know she learned that behavior from me. I'm hoping that with time, she'll begin to carry her own plastic bag and scooper.
We turned back up the block to return to O and find a restaurant. We stepped inside a little mom and pop place and Celeste took her favored spot by the wall, under the table. O ordered fried fish, I got chicken soup. Celeste got dog food and a fish tail and bit of chicken skin for dessert with a stale hard roll for a good chaw while we finished our meal.
After we ate, we climbed back into the car. Celeste looked at the front seat, but thought better of it and went to her towel. I fell back into the car and began sawing logs. I know this because I woke myself up two or three times with my own snoring. O roared up the street into the heart of the little town, and must have had several sudden stops and starts, because the next time I looked back at Celeste, she was still asleep, but off the seat and on the floor, towel draped over her back.
I woke up in time to see the sand dunes and the Pacific coastline close to the highway. The next time I woke up, I saw nothing but sand. Peruvian music was blaring on the radio and I fell asleep again. Gads, I was wiped out. We stopped at 7 toll booths on the way to Trujillo. SEVEN! The worst thing about it was that the highway, although it was going to be beautiful, hadn't been worked on for months and we were paying to travel through tiny, traffic-clogged villages. Charming at first, interesting later, tedious and irritating at the last.
Mar 24, 2008
Escape From the City - a story in several parts
Part I
Wednesday evening, O came home from work to announce that we needed to get out of town for the upcoming long weekend. He had arranged everything and we'd leave at 6 am Thursday morning. I was less than enthusiastic about the thought of driving 8 hours to Trujillo in the car, no matter how big it was, with Celeste. I've been down for about 3 months with some kind of crud, exhausted most days, and sick of coughing up snot and yuck. I just needed to sleep, and was counting on having the long weekend to do just that.
I whined, I cried, I wheedled, coughed and snorted. No, I couldn't go. How could I go, I felt so terrible. But it all fell on deaf ears. It had not occurred to me that a good part of my problem was the crap that was being constantly expelled from the hundreds of cars that pass through our neighborhood every day. It had occurred to O, however. We were off to warmer (if you can imagine that) climes, far from the maddening crowds and smoke-belching motors of Lima.
So we packed up Celeste and her leash, a backpack of clean clothes for O and I, and fell into the car. I fell into the car. Celeste leaped into the car, clambered into my lap, tried to jump into the driver's seat, twisted and turned, kicked and snorted, and generally wrestled around until I pretended I was Mike Tyson and bit her ear. She screamed, O looked shocked, I got mad, and Celeste was banned to the back seat. No window, no treats, no lap to lay her head in when she was tired, no little games to play when she was bored. She retaliated by trying to shove herself underneath the front seat from the rear, getting stuck, screaming for help, and refusing to cooperate when help was rendered. I left her there for the moment, reached into my backpack, and pulled out the only towel we'd thought to bring. I spread it across the backseat, grabbed Celeste by the tail, and hauled her out from under the front seat. Then, taking her by the hide and the throat, I wadded her up and slung her onto the towel, tweaked her nose and commanded her to STAY. She did. Celeste looked from me to O, and finding no sympathy anywhere, apparently decided it was better to pass the time on the towel. I had toyed with the idea of opening the door and shoving her out on the Pan American highway, but the moment had passed and we were on our way. The joys of dog ownership.
By this time, we had been on the road for about an hour and reached the outskirts of Lima. Celeste had fallen blissfully asleep on the towel and O was deftly dodging potholes and other escaping motorists, oblivious pedestrians in the street, and dogs in search of garbage for breakfast. The outer edges of Lima are not well maintained. I coughed and gagged and drifted in and out of various states of consciousness, unable to stay completely awake. Even the usual dangers of taxis, cars without head or tail lights, people crossing the highway without looking, or the tour buses that threatened to move over on top of us couldn't keep me awake. I slept at various times, dreaming of a comfortable towel to curl up on instead of being strapped in by a merciless seat belt. By 9 am, I took my first breath of uncontaminated air and woke up, partially refreshed. We'd broken free of the confines of Lima and crossed into the desert.
Wednesday evening, O came home from work to announce that we needed to get out of town for the upcoming long weekend. He had arranged everything and we'd leave at 6 am Thursday morning. I was less than enthusiastic about the thought of driving 8 hours to Trujillo in the car, no matter how big it was, with Celeste. I've been down for about 3 months with some kind of crud, exhausted most days, and sick of coughing up snot and yuck. I just needed to sleep, and was counting on having the long weekend to do just that.
I whined, I cried, I wheedled, coughed and snorted. No, I couldn't go. How could I go, I felt so terrible. But it all fell on deaf ears. It had not occurred to me that a good part of my problem was the crap that was being constantly expelled from the hundreds of cars that pass through our neighborhood every day. It had occurred to O, however. We were off to warmer (if you can imagine that) climes, far from the maddening crowds and smoke-belching motors of Lima.
So we packed up Celeste and her leash, a backpack of clean clothes for O and I, and fell into the car. I fell into the car. Celeste leaped into the car, clambered into my lap, tried to jump into the driver's seat, twisted and turned, kicked and snorted, and generally wrestled around until I pretended I was Mike Tyson and bit her ear. She screamed, O looked shocked, I got mad, and Celeste was banned to the back seat. No window, no treats, no lap to lay her head in when she was tired, no little games to play when she was bored. She retaliated by trying to shove herself underneath the front seat from the rear, getting stuck, screaming for help, and refusing to cooperate when help was rendered. I left her there for the moment, reached into my backpack, and pulled out the only towel we'd thought to bring. I spread it across the backseat, grabbed Celeste by the tail, and hauled her out from under the front seat. Then, taking her by the hide and the throat, I wadded her up and slung her onto the towel, tweaked her nose and commanded her to STAY. She did. Celeste looked from me to O, and finding no sympathy anywhere, apparently decided it was better to pass the time on the towel. I had toyed with the idea of opening the door and shoving her out on the Pan American highway, but the moment had passed and we were on our way. The joys of dog ownership.
By this time, we had been on the road for about an hour and reached the outskirts of Lima. Celeste had fallen blissfully asleep on the towel and O was deftly dodging potholes and other escaping motorists, oblivious pedestrians in the street, and dogs in search of garbage for breakfast. The outer edges of Lima are not well maintained. I coughed and gagged and drifted in and out of various states of consciousness, unable to stay completely awake. Even the usual dangers of taxis, cars without head or tail lights, people crossing the highway without looking, or the tour buses that threatened to move over on top of us couldn't keep me awake. I slept at various times, dreaming of a comfortable towel to curl up on instead of being strapped in by a merciless seat belt. By 9 am, I took my first breath of uncontaminated air and woke up, partially refreshed. We'd broken free of the confines of Lima and crossed into the desert.
Nov 29, 2007
catching up
We're back home again, and the apartment had a little of that "nobody's home" smell to it. A little bit stale, windows shut for an extended period of time, and a little bit lonely smell. But now, we're home again and with a bit of sweeping and mopping, the lonely odor has flown out the window. I'm glad to be back home - it was great spending time with my family and friends, but it was definitely time to get back to my own life.
While I was there, I swooped into Walmart and found some great new books to read. I love a good mystery or suspense novel and I happened upon some really great ones! Yeay! All my favorite authors had books out: Robert Ludlum, Dan Brown, John Le Carrè - I'll be engrossed in books for some time to come...I even found one of my all time favorite stories, "The Mistress of Spices". From the Wooly Works, my sister lent me some great material for my English classes, too. I even brought a puppet to help me in my classes - O almost split a gut when the little guy smoothed his hair back and then sneezed it back into his face...Bethy knows what I'm talking about. I can't wait to introduce him to my students! I already have two classroom characters who help me with grammar, Lulu and Eggworthy. I haven't got a name for this little fellow...Bethy! What's his name?
So! It's good to be back and I'll post some photos as soon as I get time. I have a lot of catching up to do around here!
While I was there, I swooped into Walmart and found some great new books to read. I love a good mystery or suspense novel and I happened upon some really great ones! Yeay! All my favorite authors had books out: Robert Ludlum, Dan Brown, John Le Carrè - I'll be engrossed in books for some time to come...I even found one of my all time favorite stories, "The Mistress of Spices". From the Wooly Works, my sister lent me some great material for my English classes, too. I even brought a puppet to help me in my classes - O almost split a gut when the little guy smoothed his hair back and then sneezed it back into his face...Bethy knows what I'm talking about. I can't wait to introduce him to my students! I already have two classroom characters who help me with grammar, Lulu and Eggworthy. I haven't got a name for this little fellow...Bethy! What's his name?
So! It's good to be back and I'll post some photos as soon as I get time. I have a lot of catching up to do around here!
Nov 4, 2007
Time off
I'm off for my vacation in the US! The next time I post, I'll be writing with multi-colored fingers, from dyeing yarn at the Wooly Works! I'll be glad to see Sunny and Pansy once again, and talk with everyone there. I'll keep you updated with my doings, and of course Wooly works will be continuing full speed ahead. Celeste will also be taking a vacation, perhaps to Trujillo to stay with her grandma, or maybe to stay with her favorite kids at Lili's house.
See you in a few days!
See you in a few days!
May 3, 2007
sweating at the equator
Whew! Can I just say that equatorial areas are frickin HOT?! We're back from getting the visa in Machala, Ecuador, and I'm SO glad to be chilly and working on my knitting again. I can spread it across my lap and keep myself warm as I work on it. I took my knitting to Ecuador, but couldn't bear to have it anywhere near me without a fan going full speed ahead.
We left on Tuesday morning for Tumbes, Peru. Omar's mom lives near Tumbes, and Omar grew up there. As we took a taxi from the Tumbes airport, he told me some about growing up there and I could tell that he was feeling sentimental about the whole place.
That was before the flies invaded and the heat overcame our brains.
We arrived in the city about 1 pm, and met Omar's mother in the Plaza de Armas (located in the center of the city). She hadn't eaten yet, and suggested that we find a good place for lunch. She took us to a fabulously expensive tourist restaurant. I suspect that she'd wanted to try the place for a while, but couldn't afford to, so we treated her to lunch. The place was packed and it took quite a while for our food to arrive at the table. We ordered two large dishes: ceviche de pescado and fried rice with a variety of seafoods mixed in. I liked the ceviche much better in Tumbes than I do in Lima. I'm not sure what it is...the fish was a different variety than what is normally served in Lima, and reacted differently to the lime juice. I didn't have the feeling that I was eating completely raw fish. It "cooked" better in the lime and I loved it. The rice was great, too. But it all cost more than I had planned for, and blew my food budget for the trip.
After lunch, Omar's mom went back to her family's home. Omar and I got tired of sweating rivers, and found a hostel with a fan in the room. It was clean and had a fan. Those two things were the only prerequisites that we had. The room came with a lamp that didn't work, windows that didn't open, one electrical outlet in the far corner of the room where the fan was located, and a sign on the bathroom door with an appeal not to pee in the shower. The heat was exhausting, so we tried to sleep for a couple of hours. We were back out on the street about 7 pm, looking for a place to eat.
Omar's mom had recommended a place that was just across the plaza from our hostel, so we went there to eat. Ummm...the flies weren't bad on the tables that didn't have food on them, so basically, it looked promising. We sat down and ordered cabrito with rice and a pitcher of chicha morada (a beverage made from purple corn). Our food arrived very quickly, and just as quickly, the flies came with it. The forks and knives were housed in a plastic dome-like outfit to keep the flies away. If I see that again somewhere, I'll be forewarned that flies are expected visitors at the table. The napkins were actually 4 x 4 squares of butcher paper, so I took some of them and covered the pitcher and the drinking glasses, to keep the flies from falling into the drinks. Dinner was actually goat meat, roasted and served with seasoned rice and something like a cold gravy that turned out to be more greasy than I liked, so I let that stay on the plate. I was so hot and was sweating so much that I don't remember what it all tasted like, but apparently it wasn't inedible, because I emptied most of my plate.
We walked around the plaza a few more times, looking for a place to buy toothbrushes, since I couldn't find ours. Our duffel bag seemed to somehow developed an appetite for them, since ours were no where to be found. The heat got to us, so we headed back to our hostel to sleep.
The next morning, we were both paying for eating cheap, but luckily, it passed before we crossed the border into Ecuador.
We passed into Ecuador by way of Aguas Verdes and Huaquillas cities. On the Peruvian side, huge amounts of farm produce is imported into Ecuador....I saw mountains of onions being loaded onto hand carts to be pushed across the border. On the Ecuadorian side, the market or electronics and clothing is just as huge. The streets are packed with vendors' stalls, big umbrellas to block the sun out, and elbow to elbow buyers. It's a noisy, boisterous place, and if crowds aren't your thing, this isn't your kind of place. You can get a little bit of an idea how this is here.
Ecuador does all its business in US dollars only. They have their own centavos, but accept American coins also. So, it's a more expensive place than Peru. I thought that Ecuador would be cheaper than Peru, since it's economy isn't as strong as Peru's, but it's not so. Maybe the presence of the dollar as the main form of currency raises the price of everything. I don't know for sure, but that's what I suspect.
All in all, it was a fun trip. Ecuador seems more Americanized to me than Peru. i got the visa in Machala without a hitch. The only real inconvenience tht resulted from the whole thing is that Celeste had to stay with relatives while we were gone. She came home thinking that she could climb on the furniture, chew up shoes, and had a good case of Los Olivos fleas. They seem to be more vicious in their biting techniques than those in Jesus Maria. She was crying as she scratched herself, and today she had the first bath that she actually welcomed...no screaming whatsoever. Her only complaint was when she grabbed one of my sandals, the other sandal immediately slapped her up the side of the head. I hate it when that happens.
We left on Tuesday morning for Tumbes, Peru. Omar's mom lives near Tumbes, and Omar grew up there. As we took a taxi from the Tumbes airport, he told me some about growing up there and I could tell that he was feeling sentimental about the whole place.
That was before the flies invaded and the heat overcame our brains.
We arrived in the city about 1 pm, and met Omar's mother in the Plaza de Armas (located in the center of the city). She hadn't eaten yet, and suggested that we find a good place for lunch. She took us to a fabulously expensive tourist restaurant. I suspect that she'd wanted to try the place for a while, but couldn't afford to, so we treated her to lunch. The place was packed and it took quite a while for our food to arrive at the table. We ordered two large dishes: ceviche de pescado and fried rice with a variety of seafoods mixed in. I liked the ceviche much better in Tumbes than I do in Lima. I'm not sure what it is...the fish was a different variety than what is normally served in Lima, and reacted differently to the lime juice. I didn't have the feeling that I was eating completely raw fish. It "cooked" better in the lime and I loved it. The rice was great, too. But it all cost more than I had planned for, and blew my food budget for the trip.
After lunch, Omar's mom went back to her family's home. Omar and I got tired of sweating rivers, and found a hostel with a fan in the room. It was clean and had a fan. Those two things were the only prerequisites that we had. The room came with a lamp that didn't work, windows that didn't open, one electrical outlet in the far corner of the room where the fan was located, and a sign on the bathroom door with an appeal not to pee in the shower. The heat was exhausting, so we tried to sleep for a couple of hours. We were back out on the street about 7 pm, looking for a place to eat.
Omar's mom had recommended a place that was just across the plaza from our hostel, so we went there to eat. Ummm...the flies weren't bad on the tables that didn't have food on them, so basically, it looked promising. We sat down and ordered cabrito with rice and a pitcher of chicha morada (a beverage made from purple corn). Our food arrived very quickly, and just as quickly, the flies came with it. The forks and knives were housed in a plastic dome-like outfit to keep the flies away. If I see that again somewhere, I'll be forewarned that flies are expected visitors at the table. The napkins were actually 4 x 4 squares of butcher paper, so I took some of them and covered the pitcher and the drinking glasses, to keep the flies from falling into the drinks. Dinner was actually goat meat, roasted and served with seasoned rice and something like a cold gravy that turned out to be more greasy than I liked, so I let that stay on the plate. I was so hot and was sweating so much that I don't remember what it all tasted like, but apparently it wasn't inedible, because I emptied most of my plate.
We walked around the plaza a few more times, looking for a place to buy toothbrushes, since I couldn't find ours. Our duffel bag seemed to somehow developed an appetite for them, since ours were no where to be found. The heat got to us, so we headed back to our hostel to sleep.
The next morning, we were both paying for eating cheap, but luckily, it passed before we crossed the border into Ecuador.
We passed into Ecuador by way of Aguas Verdes and Huaquillas cities. On the Peruvian side, huge amounts of farm produce is imported into Ecuador....I saw mountains of onions being loaded onto hand carts to be pushed across the border. On the Ecuadorian side, the market or electronics and clothing is just as huge. The streets are packed with vendors' stalls, big umbrellas to block the sun out, and elbow to elbow buyers. It's a noisy, boisterous place, and if crowds aren't your thing, this isn't your kind of place. You can get a little bit of an idea how this is here.
Ecuador does all its business in US dollars only. They have their own centavos, but accept American coins also. So, it's a more expensive place than Peru. I thought that Ecuador would be cheaper than Peru, since it's economy isn't as strong as Peru's, but it's not so. Maybe the presence of the dollar as the main form of currency raises the price of everything. I don't know for sure, but that's what I suspect.
All in all, it was a fun trip. Ecuador seems more Americanized to me than Peru. i got the visa in Machala without a hitch. The only real inconvenience tht resulted from the whole thing is that Celeste had to stay with relatives while we were gone. She came home thinking that she could climb on the furniture, chew up shoes, and had a good case of Los Olivos fleas. They seem to be more vicious in their biting techniques than those in Jesus Maria. She was crying as she scratched herself, and today she had the first bath that she actually welcomed...no screaming whatsoever. Her only complaint was when she grabbed one of my sandals, the other sandal immediately slapped her up the side of the head. I hate it when that happens.
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