Thursday night, 8:26 p.m. I’m sitting at the dinner table with my madre and hermana. We’re eating pea soup with potatoes and carrots.
My cell phone beeps — a text message.
“And the dance continues. 62-59. Manny had 23.”
Fist pumping ensues, quickly followed by screaming and “The Victors.”
My madre and hermana are frightened. They have no idea what happened. I told them that I just really like the soup. They know I like the food here, but they knew that I don’t like it that much.
On Wednesday, I had explained that my university’s basketball team had reached the NCAA Tournament for the first time since 1998, and, that if I were not in a small village outside of Cayambe, I would probably be in Kansas City at the Sprint Center.
My reaction was so quick that they didn’t have time to relate my post-text-message jubilation with the NCAA Tournament. I apologized for scaring them. I compared it to Ecuador reaching the World Cup, and they understood. (Not an accurate comparison, I know, but it gets the point across. A better comparison would have been the local club team reaching the Copa Libertadores after spending a decade recovering from a scandal)
Now, everybody in this house is excited for tonight’s game. I taught my hermana “The Victors” and translated it into Spanish so she understands what I’m talking about. My hermano wasn’t home at the time. I’ll teach him a little later.
Salude a los ganadores, valiente
Salude a los conquistando heroes
Salude, salude a Michigan
Los lideres y los mejores
Salude a los ganadores, valiente
Salude a los conquistando heroes
Salude, salude a Michigan
Los campeones del oeste
I don’t know the rest of the song in English, so translating it to Spanish would have been near-impossible.
Thursday afternoon might have been one of the first times that I actually missed American culture. The four-day weekend (Thursday-Sunday) are probably might favorite four days of the year. Great college basketball all-day long. But I’m managing. I couldn’t fill out a bracket this year because Michigan was in the tournament. I know I picked against Michigan in Staff Picks, but I’m a fan again. I don’t think they are going to win it all, but I still couldn’t pick them to lose.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
The Laundry Experience
For about a week, I had been asking my sister to teach me how to wash my clothes by hand.
Apparently, one of the conditions for being a host family for Peace Corps trainees is that the family will teach the trainee to wash his/her clothes by hand. I don’t really recall why I urgently needed to do laundry, but there was a need and my sister agreed to teach me.
So first thing last Sunday morning, I put all my dirty laundry in a five gallon pail, filled it with water, and tossed in a handful of Deja laundry detergent. Deja might be the most potent substance known to mankind and can get anything out of anything (whether or not we’re talking about clothes. It can just, in general, get anything out of anything). My sister said that we should wait a while before washing our clothes because the water is really cold in the morning and that it will be more comfortable to wash in the afternoon.
I went for a stroll with some friends and returned to clean my clothes. But my sister went to the hospital to visit my uncle (or to tend the cows while my mom went to the hospital). Either way, nobody was home. So I had to pick it up with a little help from a fellow trainee.
I would describe the experience, overall, as a success. Here is my step-by-step process for washing clothes by hand. Keep in mind that I have only done this twice so far. It has worked for me, though — and no one has complained that my clothes smell like soap. (The second time, my sister gave me a few pointers)
Step 1: Turn on iPod to something with a good beat. The first time, I listened to Eminem. The second time, Red Hot Chili Peppers.
Step 2: Take a dirty garment out of dirty water and place on laundry rock. Generously apply laundry soap.
Step 3: Work soap into clothes on rock. Repeat. Make sure that you are using your entire body to do this, so that it can double as a workout.
Step 4: Rinse clothes. For me, this takes a lot longer than it does for my sister — like exponentially longer.
Step 5: Continue rinsing. I add an additional step here. For someone with experience in doing laundry by hand, this step is unnecessary. You should already be putting the clothes on the line. But because it takes me so long to get the soap out, I figured I would add another step here.
Step 6: Place on clothesline.
Step 7: Repeat Steps 1-6 with the rest of the clothes from your pail.
*Laundry tip:
When washing boxers you purchase at Machaneh Yehuda (open-air market in Jerusalem), expect them to bleed a bit. Even if you bought them more than two years ago and have washed them several times in a washing machine, they will still bleed. Now I have a red-spotted white t-shirt and several pairs of socks with red dots on them. I guess you could call me "Man of the Manchas."
I got much better at the whole laundry thing the second time around. I plan to continue improving.
Apparently, one of the conditions for being a host family for Peace Corps trainees is that the family will teach the trainee to wash his/her clothes by hand. I don’t really recall why I urgently needed to do laundry, but there was a need and my sister agreed to teach me.
So first thing last Sunday morning, I put all my dirty laundry in a five gallon pail, filled it with water, and tossed in a handful of Deja laundry detergent. Deja might be the most potent substance known to mankind and can get anything out of anything (whether or not we’re talking about clothes. It can just, in general, get anything out of anything). My sister said that we should wait a while before washing our clothes because the water is really cold in the morning and that it will be more comfortable to wash in the afternoon.
I went for a stroll with some friends and returned to clean my clothes. But my sister went to the hospital to visit my uncle (or to tend the cows while my mom went to the hospital). Either way, nobody was home. So I had to pick it up with a little help from a fellow trainee.
I would describe the experience, overall, as a success. Here is my step-by-step process for washing clothes by hand. Keep in mind that I have only done this twice so far. It has worked for me, though — and no one has complained that my clothes smell like soap. (The second time, my sister gave me a few pointers)
Step 1: Turn on iPod to something with a good beat. The first time, I listened to Eminem. The second time, Red Hot Chili Peppers.
Step 2: Take a dirty garment out of dirty water and place on laundry rock. Generously apply laundry soap.
Step 3: Work soap into clothes on rock. Repeat. Make sure that you are using your entire body to do this, so that it can double as a workout.
Step 4: Rinse clothes. For me, this takes a lot longer than it does for my sister — like exponentially longer.
Step 5: Continue rinsing. I add an additional step here. For someone with experience in doing laundry by hand, this step is unnecessary. You should already be putting the clothes on the line. But because it takes me so long to get the soap out, I figured I would add another step here.
Step 6: Place on clothesline.
Step 7: Repeat Steps 1-6 with the rest of the clothes from your pail.
*Laundry tip:
When washing boxers you purchase at Machaneh Yehuda (open-air market in Jerusalem), expect them to bleed a bit. Even if you bought them more than two years ago and have washed them several times in a washing machine, they will still bleed. Now I have a red-spotted white t-shirt and several pairs of socks with red dots on them. I guess you could call me "Man of the Manchas."
I got much better at the whole laundry thing the second time around. I plan to continue improving.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
The Cayambe Police Philharmonic
I meant to put this post up a couple of weeks ago, but with my tio’s death and all, it got pushed back a few days.
From the day I arrived with my host family, my mom had been complaining about how the sidewalk inside our front gate was broken. I noticed a few cracks, but they were minimal compared to some of the other projects around the house.
I would say the most glaring project is the shower with electric wires hanging in midair. A close second behind that could be the weed epidemic that has taken over large swaths of the garden behind the house. In third place, I would put the two large piles of stones and dirt that you hit when you open the front gate. Then, I might consider the sidewalk. That is, if you disregard the fact that the computer doesn’t turn on or that they can’t get a clear signal for any channels on the TV.
Either way, my madre saw the demand to redo the sidewalk, and who am I to question her decision?
Answer: nobody.
I woke up early Saturday morning and saw that my mom had prepared a large feast for me. I was kind of hungry, but I didn’t really understand the need for such amounts of food. My mom explained that I would be working hard and needed to eat.
At about 8:00, the Maestro walked in. I don’t know what kind of musical background he has, but my family refers to him as the maestro. He is the local handyman, and, for me, the source of countless Seinfeld references. (In case you don’t understand the title by now, Elaine (one of the main characters on Seinfeld) dated the Maestro, who was the conductor of the New York Police Philharmonic Orchestra).
We immediately started to work by tearing apart the existing sidewalk and clearing it out. Then, we gathered rocks to form the base for the new sidewalk and mixed together cement, dirt, water, and small rocks to form our concrete concoction. Then we put it all together. The Maestro was in charge of leveling.
We finished at around 5:00, but that was not the end of the household projects for the day. In the midst of our sidewalk restoration, the water went out. Luckily, the local handyman was around.
After completing the sidewalk, he went up to the water tank (which is on the roof of the house). You have to understand that none of the original parts of the water tank appear to be functioning correctly or are attached to what they are supposed to be attached to. But somehow, the system functions and there is water in the house, so they must be doing something right.
After about 40 minutes of trying to piece different pipes together and screw together different sections of pipe, the Maestro threw in the towel on this project. At one point, it seemed as if the problem was solved but then we couldn’t piece together final pipe that needed to be reattached. The verdict: my mom would need to go to the store to get a new piece of plastic.
Well, my mom hasn’t been to the store, and, somehow, we got the water back. In the meantime, the glass panes on the top of the water tank broke but that hasn’t really stopped our system either.
Monday afternoon, we had a bit of a scare when the water went out. I went upstairs with my siblings to check out the problem. The main tube that provides water to the house was disconnected. So we looked at our available resources to correct the problem and with a few feet of masking tape and two old bike tire tubes, we reconnected the pipes and temporarily solved the water issue.
I love this stuff.
From the day I arrived with my host family, my mom had been complaining about how the sidewalk inside our front gate was broken. I noticed a few cracks, but they were minimal compared to some of the other projects around the house.
I would say the most glaring project is the shower with electric wires hanging in midair. A close second behind that could be the weed epidemic that has taken over large swaths of the garden behind the house. In third place, I would put the two large piles of stones and dirt that you hit when you open the front gate. Then, I might consider the sidewalk. That is, if you disregard the fact that the computer doesn’t turn on or that they can’t get a clear signal for any channels on the TV.
Either way, my madre saw the demand to redo the sidewalk, and who am I to question her decision?
Answer: nobody.
I woke up early Saturday morning and saw that my mom had prepared a large feast for me. I was kind of hungry, but I didn’t really understand the need for such amounts of food. My mom explained that I would be working hard and needed to eat.
At about 8:00, the Maestro walked in. I don’t know what kind of musical background he has, but my family refers to him as the maestro. He is the local handyman, and, for me, the source of countless Seinfeld references. (In case you don’t understand the title by now, Elaine (one of the main characters on Seinfeld) dated the Maestro, who was the conductor of the New York Police Philharmonic Orchestra).
We immediately started to work by tearing apart the existing sidewalk and clearing it out. Then, we gathered rocks to form the base for the new sidewalk and mixed together cement, dirt, water, and small rocks to form our concrete concoction. Then we put it all together. The Maestro was in charge of leveling.
We finished at around 5:00, but that was not the end of the household projects for the day. In the midst of our sidewalk restoration, the water went out. Luckily, the local handyman was around.
After completing the sidewalk, he went up to the water tank (which is on the roof of the house). You have to understand that none of the original parts of the water tank appear to be functioning correctly or are attached to what they are supposed to be attached to. But somehow, the system functions and there is water in the house, so they must be doing something right.
After about 40 minutes of trying to piece different pipes together and screw together different sections of pipe, the Maestro threw in the towel on this project. At one point, it seemed as if the problem was solved but then we couldn’t piece together final pipe that needed to be reattached. The verdict: my mom would need to go to the store to get a new piece of plastic.
Well, my mom hasn’t been to the store, and, somehow, we got the water back. In the meantime, the glass panes on the top of the water tank broke but that hasn’t really stopped our system either.
Monday afternoon, we had a bit of a scare when the water went out. I went upstairs with my siblings to check out the problem. The main tube that provides water to the house was disconnected. So we looked at our available resources to correct the problem and with a few feet of masking tape and two old bike tire tubes, we reconnected the pipes and temporarily solved the water issue.
I love this stuff.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
“Shiva” in Quechua
This is not the kind of blog post that I wanted to write, but I couldn’t ignore what has been happening. It has been a very difficult week around the house.
Last Saturday night, my madre’s brother got in a car accident. I don’t really know the details. From what I picked up, it occurred at 1:00 a.m., involved alcohol, and there was no seatbelt worn. He suffered bruised ribs, experienced internal bleeding, and was moved to the hospital in Quito.
My madre spent all day Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday at her brother’s side. I actually didn’t see her between Sunday night and Tuesday morning.
Wednesday morning, I awoke to the phone ringing. The conversation was brief and quickly followed by tears. He died. I got out of bed and gave her a good hug.
I had no idea what the bereavement process is like in the Andes. Before this week, I have only been to Jewish funerals and a Jehovah’s Witness one. My host family maintains many native traditions but my madre also teaches the Catachism class at the local church on Sunday mornings. So I didn’t really know what to expect.
I went about my day as normal on Wednesday. When I got home, my sister and brother were waiting for me, so we could go to my abuelito’s (grandfather’s) house. Because he had died that morning, I didn’t think that there would be any formal bereaving events that night (he had been dead for 12 hours).
At their house, there was a crowd forming. A bunch of old ladies were sitting on one side of the yard stirring a soup in the biggest cauldrons I have ever seen. The room that was the kitchen last week was cleared of all cooking utensils. Now, it was full of chairs and benches.
I asked around to see if there was anything I could do to help. Someone suggested that I could help some of the old ladies peel potatoes. Then I looked at the old ladies who were peeling potatoes, and I would guess that they have each peeled 100,000 potatoes in their lives. So I decided potato people was not my calling. Then I went back to the room that used to be the kitchen and waited on some benches outside.
Out of nowhere, a group of pallbearers marches down the hill, carrying the casket, which they placed on a plain, brown table in the room that used to be a kitchen. The casket is opened and visitors begin to file in to pay their respects.
To give you a brief background, the man who is died in my tio Patricio. He is the father of Pachulo, with whom I played soccer last week. I met Patricio briefly, and he seemed like a very nice guy. He also left behind a daughter (I would guess she is about nine). I knew him, but not very well. I felt horrible for my family more than anything else.
There were a lot of tears flowing, and Kleenex was in high demand. A few minutes later, a bunch of men walk down the hill, carrying a giant cross, a stand for the casket, and a few other sacramental items that I didn’t really recognize/don’t remember. They set up a kind of altar in one side of the former kitchen. Then people started to crowd around the door.
I saw my sister carrying a vacuum into one of the other rooms in the house and saw other members of my family go in there. They emerged a few minutes later and went into the room with the casket. The casket was lowered to the floor and opened up. Then the body was taken out of the casket and placed on a straw pad.
I was standing behind the crowd of people at the door. And even though I stand about four inches above the tallest people in the community, I didn’t get a view of the body. The ironed clothes were brought into the room with the altar and placed on the body. Upon further questioning, it turns out that they takes some of the dead person’s favorite clothes so they can be comfortable as they go into the next world. The process of clothing the dead takes about an hour. I don’t really have a great view of the body, but I can see my family standing on the other side of the casket, sobbing.
After the body is fully clothes, they put it back in the casket and place it on the altar that was brought into the room. The casket is left open so people can pay their respects, and several candles are brought into the room.
Then, people came around offering tea and crackers. I was feeling a little chilly and hungry, so the cinnamon tea and saltine really hit the spot. I don’t know if there is any ritual significance to the food choice other than it is traditional to serve some food.
Then some more time passed. I sat around on a bench and talked with some of the neighbors. Then there was a prayer service. After the prayer service, a bunch of guests just filed in and out of the house to pay their respects to the family and to Patricio.
After a while, I went home with my sister and our neighbors, Then on Thursday, after a full day of training, I went back to my abuelo’s house.
Instead of the tears that were present on Wedneday night, all of the tears were replaced with food. There were several massive cauldrons of food going. There was alos a lot of beef, which gives me the impression that a cow lost its life for this occasion. There was a soup being made. When I got there, I played a game of freeze tag with Luis before trying to help out any way I could.
It turns out that me helping out was sitting in a room away from where all the people were mourning and helping all my little cousins speak English. Because all of the kids in school study English, they know a few words but they can’t really put together full sentences. So my cousins were mostly just saying words in Spanish that I would then translate. Because I couldn’t really mourn much longer, I was fine with this role.
I stepped outside of the room to see that the crowd was about three times as large as it had been on Wednesday (I would say there were more than 200 people there on Thursday night). This large crowd was engaged in an intense prayer session. So I dipped back into the room to play more dictionary.
After the prayer session, I helped in soup distribution. The old ladies would pour me a bowl of soup that I would then help give to a guest. It was quite an assembly line of soup bowl passers that stretched all the way from the cauldron to the altar. I relied on my experience as an usher distributing bobbleheads at Comerica Park to help me in this situation.
I couldn’t really believe how different the mood was on Thursday than on Wednesday. Apparently, after midnight, they start playing games. I had a big presentation to give on Friday and a big interview with someone in the Peace Corps office, so I didn’t really want to be up late playing games with a bunch of drunk natives.
I take that back. I wanted to be up playing games with them, but I had stuff to do in the morning.
For a few minutes, it looked as if I would have to share a bed with my three-year old cousin because there weren’t any cars heading back toward the village (where my house is). But a few minutes later, I found someone heading to the next village over and hopped in with them.
The funeral occurred on Friday but with my busy day of presentation and interview, I couldn’t make it to the funeral or cemetery. After the cemetery, everybody went back to my abuelo’s house for a post-funeral reception that, rumor has it, includes a lot of alcohol and beef. I went straight there after my class, but it has pretty much wrapped up. It was time for everybody to milk their cows, so they had to leave the funeral.
I am devastated for my family, for them to experience such a tragedy. But at the same time, I learned a lot about the community I am living in and the culture on the people in the Sierra.
Last Saturday night, my madre’s brother got in a car accident. I don’t really know the details. From what I picked up, it occurred at 1:00 a.m., involved alcohol, and there was no seatbelt worn. He suffered bruised ribs, experienced internal bleeding, and was moved to the hospital in Quito.
My madre spent all day Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday at her brother’s side. I actually didn’t see her between Sunday night and Tuesday morning.
Wednesday morning, I awoke to the phone ringing. The conversation was brief and quickly followed by tears. He died. I got out of bed and gave her a good hug.
I had no idea what the bereavement process is like in the Andes. Before this week, I have only been to Jewish funerals and a Jehovah’s Witness one. My host family maintains many native traditions but my madre also teaches the Catachism class at the local church on Sunday mornings. So I didn’t really know what to expect.
I went about my day as normal on Wednesday. When I got home, my sister and brother were waiting for me, so we could go to my abuelito’s (grandfather’s) house. Because he had died that morning, I didn’t think that there would be any formal bereaving events that night (he had been dead for 12 hours).
At their house, there was a crowd forming. A bunch of old ladies were sitting on one side of the yard stirring a soup in the biggest cauldrons I have ever seen. The room that was the kitchen last week was cleared of all cooking utensils. Now, it was full of chairs and benches.
I asked around to see if there was anything I could do to help. Someone suggested that I could help some of the old ladies peel potatoes. Then I looked at the old ladies who were peeling potatoes, and I would guess that they have each peeled 100,000 potatoes in their lives. So I decided potato people was not my calling. Then I went back to the room that used to be the kitchen and waited on some benches outside.
Out of nowhere, a group of pallbearers marches down the hill, carrying the casket, which they placed on a plain, brown table in the room that used to be a kitchen. The casket is opened and visitors begin to file in to pay their respects.
To give you a brief background, the man who is died in my tio Patricio. He is the father of Pachulo, with whom I played soccer last week. I met Patricio briefly, and he seemed like a very nice guy. He also left behind a daughter (I would guess she is about nine). I knew him, but not very well. I felt horrible for my family more than anything else.
There were a lot of tears flowing, and Kleenex was in high demand. A few minutes later, a bunch of men walk down the hill, carrying a giant cross, a stand for the casket, and a few other sacramental items that I didn’t really recognize/don’t remember. They set up a kind of altar in one side of the former kitchen. Then people started to crowd around the door.
I saw my sister carrying a vacuum into one of the other rooms in the house and saw other members of my family go in there. They emerged a few minutes later and went into the room with the casket. The casket was lowered to the floor and opened up. Then the body was taken out of the casket and placed on a straw pad.
I was standing behind the crowd of people at the door. And even though I stand about four inches above the tallest people in the community, I didn’t get a view of the body. The ironed clothes were brought into the room with the altar and placed on the body. Upon further questioning, it turns out that they takes some of the dead person’s favorite clothes so they can be comfortable as they go into the next world. The process of clothing the dead takes about an hour. I don’t really have a great view of the body, but I can see my family standing on the other side of the casket, sobbing.
After the body is fully clothes, they put it back in the casket and place it on the altar that was brought into the room. The casket is left open so people can pay their respects, and several candles are brought into the room.
Then, people came around offering tea and crackers. I was feeling a little chilly and hungry, so the cinnamon tea and saltine really hit the spot. I don’t know if there is any ritual significance to the food choice other than it is traditional to serve some food.
Then some more time passed. I sat around on a bench and talked with some of the neighbors. Then there was a prayer service. After the prayer service, a bunch of guests just filed in and out of the house to pay their respects to the family and to Patricio.
After a while, I went home with my sister and our neighbors, Then on Thursday, after a full day of training, I went back to my abuelo’s house.
Instead of the tears that were present on Wedneday night, all of the tears were replaced with food. There were several massive cauldrons of food going. There was alos a lot of beef, which gives me the impression that a cow lost its life for this occasion. There was a soup being made. When I got there, I played a game of freeze tag with Luis before trying to help out any way I could.
It turns out that me helping out was sitting in a room away from where all the people were mourning and helping all my little cousins speak English. Because all of the kids in school study English, they know a few words but they can’t really put together full sentences. So my cousins were mostly just saying words in Spanish that I would then translate. Because I couldn’t really mourn much longer, I was fine with this role.
I stepped outside of the room to see that the crowd was about three times as large as it had been on Wednesday (I would say there were more than 200 people there on Thursday night). This large crowd was engaged in an intense prayer session. So I dipped back into the room to play more dictionary.
After the prayer session, I helped in soup distribution. The old ladies would pour me a bowl of soup that I would then help give to a guest. It was quite an assembly line of soup bowl passers that stretched all the way from the cauldron to the altar. I relied on my experience as an usher distributing bobbleheads at Comerica Park to help me in this situation.
I couldn’t really believe how different the mood was on Thursday than on Wednesday. Apparently, after midnight, they start playing games. I had a big presentation to give on Friday and a big interview with someone in the Peace Corps office, so I didn’t really want to be up late playing games with a bunch of drunk natives.
I take that back. I wanted to be up playing games with them, but I had stuff to do in the morning.
For a few minutes, it looked as if I would have to share a bed with my three-year old cousin because there weren’t any cars heading back toward the village (where my house is). But a few minutes later, I found someone heading to the next village over and hopped in with them.
The funeral occurred on Friday but with my busy day of presentation and interview, I couldn’t make it to the funeral or cemetery. After the cemetery, everybody went back to my abuelo’s house for a post-funeral reception that, rumor has it, includes a lot of alcohol and beef. I went straight there after my class, but it has pretty much wrapped up. It was time for everybody to milk their cows, so they had to leave the funeral.
I am devastated for my family, for them to experience such a tragedy. But at the same time, I learned a lot about the community I am living in and the culture on the people in the Sierra.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Correo
This is a new feature I´m going to start on the blog. I have received a bunch of questions in the blog comment section. So I figured I would answer them.
In Spanish, correo means ´post office´ so I figured that would be a fitting name for this section (Although the people of Ecuador might prefer Correa, as in President Rafael Correa.)
I intend on answering all of your questions and encourage you to continue to send them (either on the blog or through the e-mail {ian.jacob.robinson@gmail.com}.
Depending on the question, it might require an entire blog post to provide a comprehensive answer. Others can be addressed in a few paragraphs. Rest assured, I hope to answer all of your questions.
How's the tap water? Is it potable?
I haven’t tried the tap water yet, and I don’t really plan on it. After seeing what some of the local animals do in the local water sources and some of the trash that is chilling in the river, I’m pretty uninterested in ever sampling the untreated water.
Some have suggested the idea of adjusting to the tap water by brushing your teeth with it and then starting to sip a little bit to build up a tolerance. Before you know it, I will forget what it’s like to have water without diarrhea-inducing bacteria.
I don’t think I will try this strategy. Boiling my water isn’t that much of a hassle, and bottled water is really cheap. So that isn’t much of an issue.
Have you had the bizcochos? Is one better than another? Are they good?
For those that don’t recall, the bizcocho is a type of biscuit/bread that Cayambe is very famous for. Every corner has a place claiming to serve the best bizcochos or the freshest bizcochos (I compare it to the Original Famous Ray’s vs. Famous Original Ray’s pizza debate in New York).
I have really only gone to one bizcocho guy so far. If I spend more time in the city of Cayambe, I can foresee the possibility of a city-wide bizcocho sampling. I would only do this if time allowed.
The thing about eating the bizcocho is that it depends what you eat the bizcocho with. I prefer to dip my bizcochos in yogurt, but other belong to the dinning-in-hot-beverage school of bizcocho consumption. I have yet to attempt this method.
How is the cuisine? Have you learned some new recipes?
The food has been pretty good so far. But I am typically horrible judge of food quality. Unlike my brothers, I am, in this case, blessed without a discerning palate. Unless the food is simply horrendous, I can pretty much stomach anything. And my stomach hasn’t suffered any setbacks since I arrived (I don’t think I can go the entire two years like this, but we can pray, right?).
I have enjoyed most of the food my family has served me. In the morning, they will give me eggs, bread, and juice. For dinner, there is usually some combination of vegetable soup, an omelet, rice, minestrone, and cooked vegetables. We are on our own for lunch, and we go to the restaurant in town where, for $1.50, you get vegetable soup, rice, beans, an egg dish, and fruit juice.
My complaints about the food wouldn’t be the food itself but some questions about how it is prepared. It is my opinion that my family uses too much sugar, salt, and oil. This is most evident when they are making tea, or as I like to think about it, hot sugar water with some spices in it. In a little pot of tea, they add an entire cereal bowl of sugar.
Do the locals shower more, or less, than you have been?
I haven’t done a comprehensive survey of neighborhood hygiene habits, but I have observed the practices of my immediate familia.
I would have to put myself just behind my sister in most baths since I have arrived. There are some people in the family who I don’t know whether they have bathed since I arrived. But this might be unfair because I am out of the house most of the day (which is when the water is at its warmest). But let this be clear, I still have my doubts. I will continue to monitor the situation.
It seems that every other family in town has some sort of working shower. Meanwhile, the bucket bath means I need to plan out my bathing schedule a bit more than I would prefer, and you have to pace all your water usage. The bonus about the bucket bath is that the water is warm. I have heard stories from other volunteers of 30 seconds of lukewarm showers giving way to glacially cold experiences.
In Spanish, correo means ´post office´ so I figured that would be a fitting name for this section (Although the people of Ecuador might prefer Correa, as in President Rafael Correa.)
I intend on answering all of your questions and encourage you to continue to send them (either on the blog or through the e-mail {ian.jacob.robinson@gmail.com}.
Depending on the question, it might require an entire blog post to provide a comprehensive answer. Others can be addressed in a few paragraphs. Rest assured, I hope to answer all of your questions.
How's the tap water? Is it potable?
I haven’t tried the tap water yet, and I don’t really plan on it. After seeing what some of the local animals do in the local water sources and some of the trash that is chilling in the river, I’m pretty uninterested in ever sampling the untreated water.
Some have suggested the idea of adjusting to the tap water by brushing your teeth with it and then starting to sip a little bit to build up a tolerance. Before you know it, I will forget what it’s like to have water without diarrhea-inducing bacteria.
I don’t think I will try this strategy. Boiling my water isn’t that much of a hassle, and bottled water is really cheap. So that isn’t much of an issue.
Have you had the bizcochos? Is one better than another? Are they good?
For those that don’t recall, the bizcocho is a type of biscuit/bread that Cayambe is very famous for. Every corner has a place claiming to serve the best bizcochos or the freshest bizcochos (I compare it to the Original Famous Ray’s vs. Famous Original Ray’s pizza debate in New York).
I have really only gone to one bizcocho guy so far. If I spend more time in the city of Cayambe, I can foresee the possibility of a city-wide bizcocho sampling. I would only do this if time allowed.
The thing about eating the bizcocho is that it depends what you eat the bizcocho with. I prefer to dip my bizcochos in yogurt, but other belong to the dinning-in-hot-beverage school of bizcocho consumption. I have yet to attempt this method.
How is the cuisine? Have you learned some new recipes?
The food has been pretty good so far. But I am typically horrible judge of food quality. Unlike my brothers, I am, in this case, blessed without a discerning palate. Unless the food is simply horrendous, I can pretty much stomach anything. And my stomach hasn’t suffered any setbacks since I arrived (I don’t think I can go the entire two years like this, but we can pray, right?).
I have enjoyed most of the food my family has served me. In the morning, they will give me eggs, bread, and juice. For dinner, there is usually some combination of vegetable soup, an omelet, rice, minestrone, and cooked vegetables. We are on our own for lunch, and we go to the restaurant in town where, for $1.50, you get vegetable soup, rice, beans, an egg dish, and fruit juice.
My complaints about the food wouldn’t be the food itself but some questions about how it is prepared. It is my opinion that my family uses too much sugar, salt, and oil. This is most evident when they are making tea, or as I like to think about it, hot sugar water with some spices in it. In a little pot of tea, they add an entire cereal bowl of sugar.
Do the locals shower more, or less, than you have been?
I haven’t done a comprehensive survey of neighborhood hygiene habits, but I have observed the practices of my immediate familia.
I would have to put myself just behind my sister in most baths since I have arrived. There are some people in the family who I don’t know whether they have bathed since I arrived. But this might be unfair because I am out of the house most of the day (which is when the water is at its warmest). But let this be clear, I still have my doubts. I will continue to monitor the situation.
It seems that every other family in town has some sort of working shower. Meanwhile, the bucket bath means I need to plan out my bathing schedule a bit more than I would prefer, and you have to pace all your water usage. The bonus about the bucket bath is that the water is warm. I have heard stories from other volunteers of 30 seconds of lukewarm showers giving way to glacially cold experiences.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Guinea Pig Piss Sells at $2.00/liter
On Friday, we visited an integrated farm near Tabacundo (twenty minutes from Cayambe). Everybody was really excited because it was our first day of real technical trainings. This man, Edwin, owns 2.5 hectares of land (that’s a little more than an acre) and had created a completely sustainable, organic farm. He is a great guy and is always looking for possible solutions and ways to improve his farm. For example, strawberries take up a lot of space on a farm. Because he has such limited space to work with, he is trying to grow them vertically.
Enough with this shmaltzy intro about the farm, let’s get to what I actually learned.
In the morning, we had three sessions that were led by current PCVs (Peace Corps volunteers) and trainers. Our first station was organic fertilizer. We discussed four types of fertilizing styles—compost, manure tea, boil, and bokachi—and broke down the pros and cons of each. Then we talked about what nutrients you need for a good compost: a good balance of nitrogen, potassium, and phosphorous. For example, some good natural sources of nitrogen would be greens (chlorophyll is almost pure nitrogen, and if your plants are turning yellow, it might mean they have a nitrogen deficiency), legumes (I don’t think Ashkenazim have to clean the legumes out of their compost before Pesach, but I would ask a higher authority on this one. Actually, putting the legumes in compost would be a great way to clean the legumes out of your house before Passover), IMO, and manure.
The highlight of this session, for me, was using a machete for the first time in my life. I used it to cut a block of brown sugar.
Our next session was about building greenhouses. It will be very hard to remember how to build a greenhouse after a 45-minute session, but it got some of the ideas moving in my head. You use greenhouses to control moisture and temperature. This was a very technical session and would be very difficult to explain on the blog in just a few sentences, but at the end we helped Edwin build his greenhouse by using hoes (azadones) to clean the land. A lot of little worms (cusos) live in the ground. When we found them we were told to put them in a bucket so Edwin could feed them to his ducks. Well, we didn’t put all of them in the bucket.
JK. They’re not kosher. But several people did eat them.
Our last session in the morning was about seedbeds. Not the most exciting to write about but if you have any seedbed questions, you can send them my way. Plus I know that you are just kicking yourself to find out why I would know the market value of guinea pig urine.
After a great lunch of homegrown veggies, we began the afternoon sessions. My group’s first stop was the guinea pig barn. If you didn’t know, guinea pig (cuy) is considered a delicacy here. Edwin can get $7.00/cuy, but people only eat them for festivals and special occasions.
Traditionally, guinea pigs are kept on the ground in their cages, but this creates a lot of issues for cleaning. Plus, one of Edwin’s philosophy’s is that he wants to get multiple uses out of each component on his farm. So he devised a system in which his keeps the cuys in elevated cages. The cuy crap and piss falls beneath the cracks and he harvests it to use for his compost. He also has an intense system of breeding the cuys to make sure that only the strongest ones remain and the weak are killed and eaten (just like Vadim’s shirt says about Detroit).
Some of the local flower growers have expressed interest in using guinea pig piss as a fertilizer, but Edwin has has some issues in how to collect it (it is tough to put a catheter on the cuys). So he is working on a way to collect the piss and sell it for $2.00 a liter to the local flower growers. I forget how much he projects he can get per week, but it was pretty substantial.
After that, we had a session on pruning and clefting. Clefting is very cool because you essentially take the trunk or branch of one type of fruit and attach the branch of another. You would do this because one species of fruit might have a strong, disease-resist root system but not a great fruit product. Another species would be in the reciprocal position. So now you can get the best of both worlds. Apparently, almost all the commercial apple trees in the US have the same root system.
Then, I planted a tree. Sallah Shabati, anyone?
Our last session was on lombricultura (using worms in your compost). This is a great way to get a compost going and is very easy.
We capped the day with a ritual slaughtering of a guinea pig, per the request of one of the fellow PCTs.
They pretty much just pressed the head against the ground until it stopped squeaking. Then Edwin’s wife took the hair and skin of the cuy off and prepared it to be eaten.
Overall, a great first day of technical training.
Enough with this shmaltzy intro about the farm, let’s get to what I actually learned.
In the morning, we had three sessions that were led by current PCVs (Peace Corps volunteers) and trainers. Our first station was organic fertilizer. We discussed four types of fertilizing styles—compost, manure tea, boil, and bokachi—and broke down the pros and cons of each. Then we talked about what nutrients you need for a good compost: a good balance of nitrogen, potassium, and phosphorous. For example, some good natural sources of nitrogen would be greens (chlorophyll is almost pure nitrogen, and if your plants are turning yellow, it might mean they have a nitrogen deficiency), legumes (I don’t think Ashkenazim have to clean the legumes out of their compost before Pesach, but I would ask a higher authority on this one. Actually, putting the legumes in compost would be a great way to clean the legumes out of your house before Passover), IMO, and manure.
The highlight of this session, for me, was using a machete for the first time in my life. I used it to cut a block of brown sugar.
Our next session was about building greenhouses. It will be very hard to remember how to build a greenhouse after a 45-minute session, but it got some of the ideas moving in my head. You use greenhouses to control moisture and temperature. This was a very technical session and would be very difficult to explain on the blog in just a few sentences, but at the end we helped Edwin build his greenhouse by using hoes (azadones) to clean the land. A lot of little worms (cusos) live in the ground. When we found them we were told to put them in a bucket so Edwin could feed them to his ducks. Well, we didn’t put all of them in the bucket.
JK. They’re not kosher. But several people did eat them.Our last session in the morning was about seedbeds. Not the most exciting to write about but if you have any seedbed questions, you can send them my way. Plus I know that you are just kicking yourself to find out why I would know the market value of guinea pig urine.
After a great lunch of homegrown veggies, we began the afternoon sessions. My group’s first stop was the guinea pig barn. If you didn’t know, guinea pig (cuy) is considered a delicacy here. Edwin can get $7.00/cuy, but people only eat them for festivals and special occasions.
Traditionally, guinea pigs are kept on the ground in their cages, but this creates a lot of issues for cleaning. Plus, one of Edwin’s philosophy’s is that he wants to get multiple uses out of each component on his farm. So he devised a system in which his keeps the cuys in elevated cages. The cuy crap and piss falls beneath the cracks and he harvests it to use for his compost. He also has an intense system of breeding the cuys to make sure that only the strongest ones remain and the weak are killed and eaten (just like Vadim’s shirt says about Detroit). Some of the local flower growers have expressed interest in using guinea pig piss as a fertilizer, but Edwin has has some issues in how to collect it (it is tough to put a catheter on the cuys). So he is working on a way to collect the piss and sell it for $2.00 a liter to the local flower growers. I forget how much he projects he can get per week, but it was pretty substantial.
After that, we had a session on pruning and clefting. Clefting is very cool because you essentially take the trunk or branch of one type of fruit and attach the branch of another. You would do this because one species of fruit might have a strong, disease-resist root system but not a great fruit product. Another species would be in the reciprocal position. So now you can get the best of both worlds. Apparently, almost all the commercial apple trees in the US have the same root system.
Then, I planted a tree. Sallah Shabati, anyone?
Our last session was on lombricultura (using worms in your compost). This is a great way to get a compost going and is very easy.
We capped the day with a ritual slaughtering of a guinea pig, per the request of one of the fellow PCTs.
They pretty much just pressed the head against the ground until it stopped squeaking. Then Edwin’s wife took the hair and skin of the cuy off and prepared it to be eaten.Overall, a great first day of technical training.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
The Family Life
I think I am fitting in very well with my new family. But my extended family is very large, and I have trouble remembering their names and faces.
My mom has five siblings (I think all but one of them is married). Her youngest brother is in university in Ibarra to be an electrician. Most of her other siblings have spent time at the farm since I moved in. And many of her siblings have children.
For example, I apparently have a cousin named Kevin. But I’m not sure if that is his name because I think I have also heard him being referred to as Daniel, DeMarco, and Pongi. It’s very unclear.
One thing that is very clear is that my three-year old cousin has one of the best names I’ve ever heard. In fact, I am going to create a feature on the right side of my blog because of it. His name is Pachulo. Think about how great that name is for a second and then you will understand where I am coming from. He is also very cute. So in honor of him, I will start a “favorite words I encounter” section on the right side.
My family’s farm is on the outside of town. It is actually my grandparent’s house. We live in the village itself. There is one main street and, literally, a beaten path that runs perpendicular to it where my house is located. Normally, they have a functioning shower, but it recently broke. So bathing has been a bit of an adventure around here.
To heat the water, we fill a pot with water and put it on the stove. Once it has reached an adequate temperature, we pour it in a big bucket. If the water it too hot, we balance it out with some tap water until we find the optimal temperature. Then I go into the bathroom with the big bucket, a small bucket, some soap, and a shampoo container. The bathroom is not closed off from the elements, and it is very cold outside. So having to bath yourself with a bucket of water in cold weather will take some getting used to, to say the least. But I found it a very refreshing experience the first time. Maybe that’s because I hadn’t really bathed in four days?
Now, if there is one thing that I haven’t really done in the mountains, it would be running. With altitude, going more than a block at any pace above a sashay has me gasping for air. But if there is one thing that I have done, it is sleep. In fact, I am writing this blog post at 9:20 p.m. That is the latest I have been awake since moving to the mountains.
For the last three nights, I have been in bed before 8:30 p.m. That is three more nights of being in bed before 8:30 p.m than I can remember in my entire life. You would have to consult my mom with the last time this happened. The benefit of being able to go to sleep early is that you wake up and see the sunrise, which I have done for the last few days. And it’s not just any sunrise. It’s a stunning one over the Andes. I have been sleeping until 6:00 and can’t sleep anymore. I feel like my dad, who is a real madrugador (someone who wakes up early).
I want to give you some information about Cayambe, where our training is based.
Cayambe is about an hour north of Quito. It has a population of about 30,000 and the downtown area is nice. It is famous for bizcochos, which are a type of bread/biscuit. As soon as you drive into town, you are bombarded with restaurants and cafes that claim to serve the original bizcocho, the best bizcochos, or traditional bizcochos. The town is also famous for a type of string cheese. I don’t know the name of it yet, but I have tried it, and it is good.
The area around Cayambe is one of the world’s leading producers in fresh-cut flower exports. Apparently, there was some international economic agreement with Andean countries that would give free trade on certain products so that they didn’t have to rely on drug money. It seems that Cayambeans have taken advantage of that because when you look down into the valley, it is covered with greenhouses.
My mom has five siblings (I think all but one of them is married). Her youngest brother is in university in Ibarra to be an electrician. Most of her other siblings have spent time at the farm since I moved in. And many of her siblings have children.
For example, I apparently have a cousin named Kevin. But I’m not sure if that is his name because I think I have also heard him being referred to as Daniel, DeMarco, and Pongi. It’s very unclear.
One thing that is very clear is that my three-year old cousin has one of the best names I’ve ever heard. In fact, I am going to create a feature on the right side of my blog because of it. His name is Pachulo. Think about how great that name is for a second and then you will understand where I am coming from. He is also very cute. So in honor of him, I will start a “favorite words I encounter” section on the right side.
My family’s farm is on the outside of town. It is actually my grandparent’s house. We live in the village itself. There is one main street and, literally, a beaten path that runs perpendicular to it where my house is located. Normally, they have a functioning shower, but it recently broke. So bathing has been a bit of an adventure around here.
To heat the water, we fill a pot with water and put it on the stove. Once it has reached an adequate temperature, we pour it in a big bucket. If the water it too hot, we balance it out with some tap water until we find the optimal temperature. Then I go into the bathroom with the big bucket, a small bucket, some soap, and a shampoo container. The bathroom is not closed off from the elements, and it is very cold outside. So having to bath yourself with a bucket of water in cold weather will take some getting used to, to say the least. But I found it a very refreshing experience the first time. Maybe that’s because I hadn’t really bathed in four days?
Now, if there is one thing that I haven’t really done in the mountains, it would be running. With altitude, going more than a block at any pace above a sashay has me gasping for air. But if there is one thing that I have done, it is sleep. In fact, I am writing this blog post at 9:20 p.m. That is the latest I have been awake since moving to the mountains.
For the last three nights, I have been in bed before 8:30 p.m. That is three more nights of being in bed before 8:30 p.m than I can remember in my entire life. You would have to consult my mom with the last time this happened. The benefit of being able to go to sleep early is that you wake up and see the sunrise, which I have done for the last few days. And it’s not just any sunrise. It’s a stunning one over the Andes. I have been sleeping until 6:00 and can’t sleep anymore. I feel like my dad, who is a real madrugador (someone who wakes up early).
I want to give you some information about Cayambe, where our training is based.
Cayambe is about an hour north of Quito. It has a population of about 30,000 and the downtown area is nice. It is famous for bizcochos, which are a type of bread/biscuit. As soon as you drive into town, you are bombarded with restaurants and cafes that claim to serve the original bizcocho, the best bizcochos, or traditional bizcochos. The town is also famous for a type of string cheese. I don’t know the name of it yet, but I have tried it, and it is good.
The area around Cayambe is one of the world’s leading producers in fresh-cut flower exports. Apparently, there was some international economic agreement with Andean countries that would give free trade on certain products so that they didn’t have to rely on drug money. It seems that Cayambeans have taken advantage of that because when you look down into the valley, it is covered with greenhouses.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
What lies outside your window?
This is the view from my room.
Well, I apologize for how brief that last blog post was. I realize that I need to pre-write my blog posts before getting to the internet café and just upload them with a thumb drive. The six-minute, proof-of-life blog post to recap your first six days in a country just won’t cut it. So I’ll have you know that I wrote this post beforehand.
To update you on my situation. I am currently living with a host family in a training village near the city of Cayambe. I will be here until the end of April. I have been trying really hard to integrate into the community. In this area of the country, there is a large native population, and the communities are often wary of outsiders. Many in the older generation speak Kichwa (you might recognize the Peruvian spelling of Quechua). But the community has been very welcoming so far. I greet every person I pass on the street with a “Buenos dias” or “Buenos tardes” depending on the time of day. I’m indoors by nightfall, so I don’t really have to worry about the “Buenos noches.”
In my family, I have a madre and two siblings. My hermano is eight years old and my best friend. We play futbol (soccer) and watch movies (Madagascar 2) and TV (The Simpsons). Before he leaves for school in the morning, he gives me hug. My sister is in high school. She leaves for school early in the morning and then cooks dinner for the family in the afternoon. Mi madre wakes up at 3:00 a.m. to milk the cows at the family farm and returns in time to get mi hermano ready for school. During the day, she works at the farm or at the garden next to our house. Then in the afternoon, she goes back to the farm and milks the cows again before coming home.
All of the families in this area are in the cow-milking business (there is probably a better word for this, but I can’t think of it now). About five years ago, they built big milk collection sites (Acopios) in these villages. Since then, the families have shifted away from agriculture and into milk. Before they built these facilities, each family would sell their milk to a different milkman at different prices. Now, the price is constant in each village, and there is more stability. Two hundred families in my town are members of the milk business, and they export a combined 4,000 liters per day. Families receive $.34 per liter of milk, and the standard-sized container holds $8.00 of milk. I learned that the milk from my village is transported to a town south of Quito where it is processed into dry milk powder and used by the ministry of health.
My one milking experience to date occurred on Sunday afternoon. I don’t really have a feel for it like mi madre does, who milks the cows twice a day, but I will improve. If the cow-milking doesn’t pan out, there is plenty for me to do around the farm. Last Saturday, I helped harvest a potato-like vegetable, and Sunday, I helped fertilize a field that the cows used to graze in (ie. Shoveled cow manure). Aside from when I made a firepit out of cow manure in Jerusalem, this was the most contact I have had with cowpile. In third place would probably be watching Back to the Future (for the scene when Biff drives into the manure, not because I am trying to compare the film to animal waste. I love that film).
Aside from the milking cows, my family also has some cows who are not old enough to give milk. One of those cows is very small and tan-colored. I will lobby to have it named “Norman.” I’m not sure how the cow-naming process works, but I will figure it out.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
When was the last time you milked a cow?
So, I haven´t forgotten about you. The reason for limited blogging has been limited internet access. In fact, this is the first bit of internet I have had in five days. And in that time so many bloggable things have happened that I know I will be playing catch-up for the next two years.
I´ll give you a brief overview of what we have done until now. Right now, I am sitting in an internet cafe outside of Cayambe, which is in the mountains north of Quito. We are living with families in our training villages. I will write more about that soon.
Last Tuesday, we had staging in Washington, D.C. It´s pretty weird to think that was just a week ago. We received some basic information and did a bunch of icebreakers with the 44 other trainees in my group. A few specific outstanding icebreaker moments were:
We were asked what we did to prepare for our Peace Corps service. One of the trainees said that he achieved inner peace. I said that I got a hair cut.
Another question that we were asked was about something we brought with us that was the most ridiculous. I said a baseball mitt, but, in reality, the most ridiculous thing I brought was a box of matzah ball soup mix.
After successful traveling, we reached Quito and had a few days of orientation. Not really any tremendous stories from that.
Well, I have to catch the bus in three minutes. So, I have to go. To give you a flavor of the kinds of things I have done the last few days:
I milked a cow for the first time in my life.
The shower in my house is broken, so my host mom put some water on the stove, then put that water in a big bucket so I could bathe, which is nice because I hadn't washed my hair in a week.
I´ll give you a brief overview of what we have done until now. Right now, I am sitting in an internet cafe outside of Cayambe, which is in the mountains north of Quito. We are living with families in our training villages. I will write more about that soon.
Last Tuesday, we had staging in Washington, D.C. It´s pretty weird to think that was just a week ago. We received some basic information and did a bunch of icebreakers with the 44 other trainees in my group. A few specific outstanding icebreaker moments were:
We were asked what we did to prepare for our Peace Corps service. One of the trainees said that he achieved inner peace. I said that I got a hair cut.
Another question that we were asked was about something we brought with us that was the most ridiculous. I said a baseball mitt, but, in reality, the most ridiculous thing I brought was a box of matzah ball soup mix.
After successful traveling, we reached Quito and had a few days of orientation. Not really any tremendous stories from that.
Well, I have to catch the bus in three minutes. So, I have to go. To give you a flavor of the kinds of things I have done the last few days:
I milked a cow for the first time in my life.
The shower in my house is broken, so my host mom put some water on the stove, then put that water in a big bucket so I could bathe, which is nice because I hadn't washed my hair in a week.
Monday, February 23, 2009
So you asked ...
As I prepare for departure, people have asked me some common questions. I figure that other people who may not have spoken with me might have similar questions. In the coming weeks, I will provide more definite (and real) answers to some of the questions. (I ended three straight sentences with "questions." I hope to improve the writing quality on this blog)
What is your itinerary?
Tomorrow morning, I depart for Washington, D.C. We spend the day registering and getting an orientation to the Peace Corps. Then, we leave for Ecuador on Wednesday morning. We spend the first few days in Quito, the capital, getting more orientation before they ship us off to our training villages. In the past, the training villages have been based around Cayambe in the north (I will put a map of Ecuador on the right side so you get a sense of where everything is).
What's the climate like?
Well, from the name, you get the idea that the country is near the Equator. So it's going to be pretty warm. Ecuador is located in northwestern South America and divided into three climate areas — the costa, the sierra, and the oriente.
The costa is the costal area on the Pacific Ocean. It gets very hot and very humid here. The sierra is the Andes Mountains. The altitudes here can get as high as 16,000 feet. There is snow at the top of the mountains. We were to prepare for temperatures in the 40s. Then there is the oriente (rainforest), where is it humid and rains all the time.
Where will you be living after training?
They give us our locations some time during training (I'll let you know as soon as I learn more). They want to meet us first, see our skills, and learn what we can do before they decide on placement.
What are you going to be doing?
Just like my exact placement, I'm not quite sure what my job will entail. I am working in the natural resource management program. It has three primary goals: environmental education, conservation, and business advising. Within these categories, the possibilities are pretty much endless, so I don't really want to speculate on what this will entail.
What will you do during training?
We will spend three months in training. Peace Corps Ecuador employs a community-based training philosophy where you live with a local family and complete training while living in a village. Some of the types of training will probably include: language, cross-culture, soccer, health, laundry, safety, technical, how to maximize limited water pressure, and whistling. This is probably not an exhaustive list.
Will you come home?
I might. Throughout my 27 months, I will accrue 48 days off. One earns two days off for every month of service. While I might have the opportunity to come back to Michigan, I also want to take advantage of this chance to be in South America and see what this continent has to offer. And if someone wants to come visit me in Ecuador, I could use some of my accrued days off to explore with them (hint, hint).
Weren't you Ecuador last summer?
Yes. Last summer I backpacked throughout South America. I started in Quito and, over three months, rode buses all the way to Rio de Janeiro (If you want to read my emails from that experience, they are all on the blog. There is even a picture slideshow.). I spent three weeks in Ecuador. For 10 days, I was in the Galapagos Islands, marveling at that the huge boobies. For the rest of the time, I mostly explored the sierra and made a brief appearance in the oriente. I applied for the Peace Corps before I left for my South America journey, so I think my placement in Ecuador was a coincidence. But some might tell you that there are no coincidences.
What t-shirts are you bringing?
Something you might not know about me is how much pride I take in my t-shirt collection. Not only that, but there is a story behind every t-shirt (Last year, I did an experiment by wearing every t-shirt in my closet. The rule was that I could wear it just once, then I couldn't wear it again until I wore every t-shirt in my closet. It was a great experience, and I even considered blogging about it, but then I got lazy. I didn't have to rewear a shirt until December.)
The packing list told me that I should bring six t-shrits. I briefly considered giving up on this whole Peace Corps thing altogether. Then I regained my composure and starting sifting through the cotton. Then I settled on a few shirts that capture some central themes of my life that are also t-shirts I wouldn't mind losing (something you have to prepare for with anything you take to the Peace Corps). I will bring a Detroit Tigers t-shirt, a Detroit Pistons t-shirt, two Michigan t-shirts (one white and one blue), and a red Moosejaw shirt (more for the comfort and color than anything else).
What movies will you take?
Before I answer this, I decided that a fun icebreaker question would be: Choose 10 movies that you will watch for two years.
Now, I know that I will watch more movies than the ones I am bringing. Bootleg movies are readily available on the streets, and other volunteers will bring some. But to start off, I am bringing Toy Story, The Godfather, Air Force One, The Fugitive, Tommy Boy, Sallah Shabati, You Don't Mess With The Zohan, D2, Miracle, The Sandlot, and Major League. So maybe that's more than ten movies, but I had more sleeves in the CD case.
Will you have internet?
I don't really know yet. Because a good portion of the country doesn't have running water, the odds of me having internet at my house are close to zero. But because Ecuador is a big tourist destination, there are internet cafes in every city and most towns.
I will post a mailing address soon. Mail typically takes about ten days to get to the Peace Corps office from the States. But the best way to reach me would be via email (ian.jacob.robinson@gmail.com). And maybe if you are lucky enough (and I am lucky enough to have a good internet connection), we could gchat...
My new haircut!
So for the last 22 years, I have only sported one hairstyle: the Jew fro. But as I enter a new phase in my life, I thought it was time for a new phase in my hair life, as well.
My friend, Vadim, told me about one of his dad's friends who gives $7 haircuts out of his basement. I went with Vadim, his brother, and his dad on a Sunday afternoon. The guy's basement is unfinished. It is essentially bare concrete except for a barber shop chair, a mirror, and a ping pong table.
I told him to take about half of my hair off. Well, let's just say that the scissors didn't make an appearance until ten minutes into the twelve minute hair cut. My hair is shorter than it has ever been before (I'm pretty sure I came out of the womb with more hair). But I'm pleased and it will give me a good base to grow from if I can't find a barber for a while. The four of us left with the same haircut, and while we waited for the next person, we played ping pong.
If you were interested, I beat Vadim.
What is your itinerary?
Tomorrow morning, I depart for Washington, D.C. We spend the day registering and getting an orientation to the Peace Corps. Then, we leave for Ecuador on Wednesday morning. We spend the first few days in Quito, the capital, getting more orientation before they ship us off to our training villages. In the past, the training villages have been based around Cayambe in the north (I will put a map of Ecuador on the right side so you get a sense of where everything is).
What's the climate like?
Well, from the name, you get the idea that the country is near the Equator. So it's going to be pretty warm. Ecuador is located in northwestern South America and divided into three climate areas — the costa, the sierra, and the oriente.
The costa is the costal area on the Pacific Ocean. It gets very hot and very humid here. The sierra is the Andes Mountains. The altitudes here can get as high as 16,000 feet. There is snow at the top of the mountains. We were to prepare for temperatures in the 40s. Then there is the oriente (rainforest), where is it humid and rains all the time.
Where will you be living after training?
They give us our locations some time during training (I'll let you know as soon as I learn more). They want to meet us first, see our skills, and learn what we can do before they decide on placement.
What are you going to be doing?
Just like my exact placement, I'm not quite sure what my job will entail. I am working in the natural resource management program. It has three primary goals: environmental education, conservation, and business advising. Within these categories, the possibilities are pretty much endless, so I don't really want to speculate on what this will entail.
What will you do during training?
We will spend three months in training. Peace Corps Ecuador employs a community-based training philosophy where you live with a local family and complete training while living in a village. Some of the types of training will probably include: language, cross-culture, soccer, health, laundry, safety, technical, how to maximize limited water pressure, and whistling. This is probably not an exhaustive list.
Will you come home?
I might. Throughout my 27 months, I will accrue 48 days off. One earns two days off for every month of service. While I might have the opportunity to come back to Michigan, I also want to take advantage of this chance to be in South America and see what this continent has to offer. And if someone wants to come visit me in Ecuador, I could use some of my accrued days off to explore with them (hint, hint).
Weren't you Ecuador last summer?
Yes. Last summer I backpacked throughout South America. I started in Quito and, over three months, rode buses all the way to Rio de Janeiro (If you want to read my emails from that experience, they are all on the blog. There is even a picture slideshow.). I spent three weeks in Ecuador. For 10 days, I was in the Galapagos Islands, marveling at that the huge boobies. For the rest of the time, I mostly explored the sierra and made a brief appearance in the oriente. I applied for the Peace Corps before I left for my South America journey, so I think my placement in Ecuador was a coincidence. But some might tell you that there are no coincidences.
What t-shirts are you bringing?
Something you might not know about me is how much pride I take in my t-shirt collection. Not only that, but there is a story behind every t-shirt (Last year, I did an experiment by wearing every t-shirt in my closet. The rule was that I could wear it just once, then I couldn't wear it again until I wore every t-shirt in my closet. It was a great experience, and I even considered blogging about it, but then I got lazy. I didn't have to rewear a shirt until December.)
The packing list told me that I should bring six t-shrits. I briefly considered giving up on this whole Peace Corps thing altogether. Then I regained my composure and starting sifting through the cotton. Then I settled on a few shirts that capture some central themes of my life that are also t-shirts I wouldn't mind losing (something you have to prepare for with anything you take to the Peace Corps). I will bring a Detroit Tigers t-shirt, a Detroit Pistons t-shirt, two Michigan t-shirts (one white and one blue), and a red Moosejaw shirt (more for the comfort and color than anything else).
What movies will you take?
Before I answer this, I decided that a fun icebreaker question would be: Choose 10 movies that you will watch for two years.
Now, I know that I will watch more movies than the ones I am bringing. Bootleg movies are readily available on the streets, and other volunteers will bring some. But to start off, I am bringing Toy Story, The Godfather, Air Force One, The Fugitive, Tommy Boy, Sallah Shabati, You Don't Mess With The Zohan, D2, Miracle, The Sandlot, and Major League. So maybe that's more than ten movies, but I had more sleeves in the CD case.
Will you have internet?
I don't really know yet. Because a good portion of the country doesn't have running water, the odds of me having internet at my house are close to zero. But because Ecuador is a big tourist destination, there are internet cafes in every city and most towns.
I will post a mailing address soon. Mail typically takes about ten days to get to the Peace Corps office from the States. But the best way to reach me would be via email (ian.jacob.robinson@gmail.com). And maybe if you are lucky enough (and I am lucky enough to have a good internet connection), we could gchat...
My new haircut!
So for the last 22 years, I have only sported one hairstyle: the Jew fro. But as I enter a new phase in my life, I thought it was time for a new phase in my hair life, as well.
My friend, Vadim, told me about one of his dad's friends who gives $7 haircuts out of his basement. I went with Vadim, his brother, and his dad on a Sunday afternoon. The guy's basement is unfinished. It is essentially bare concrete except for a barber shop chair, a mirror, and a ping pong table.
I told him to take about half of my hair off. Well, let's just say that the scissors didn't make an appearance until ten minutes into the twelve minute hair cut. My hair is shorter than it has ever been before (I'm pretty sure I came out of the womb with more hair). But I'm pleased and it will give me a good base to grow from if I can't find a barber for a while. The four of us left with the same haircut, and while we waited for the next person, we played ping pong.
If you were interested, I beat Vadim.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
I think I have found another use for my time
Tonight, I finished The Sopranos. For the last seven weeks, I have been watching them straight through. Aside from a two-week roadtrip, Tony Soprano has consumed my life, more figuratively than literally but I have lost some weight.
So now that I have finished the Sopranos, I need to find a new way to occupy my time. I came up with a few ideas for this (e.g. learn to play jai lai, develop a discerning palate, overcome my fear of fire), but when I started weighing the positives and negatives of each option, I couldn't quite find ways to fill my time with any of the activities or provide for myself with any of them. So I decided to join the Peace Corps.
On Tuesday morning, I leave for 27 months to Ecuador. The first three months will be spent in training. If I pass, I become a full-fledged volunteer and serve for two years.
I'm not quite sure what my job will entail, but I will be working in a natural resource management program, doing some combination of environmental education, conservation, and business advising. I don't know what this means or where I will be placed, but I hope to learn this during training.
So now that I have finished the Sopranos, I need to find a new way to occupy my time. I came up with a few ideas for this (e.g. learn to play jai lai, develop a discerning palate, overcome my fear of fire), but when I started weighing the positives and negatives of each option, I couldn't quite find ways to fill my time with any of the activities or provide for myself with any of them. So I decided to join the Peace Corps.
On Tuesday morning, I leave for 27 months to Ecuador. The first three months will be spent in training. If I pass, I become a full-fledged volunteer and serve for two years.
I'm not quite sure what my job will entail, but I will be working in a natural resource management program, doing some combination of environmental education, conservation, and business advising. I don't know what this means or where I will be placed, but I hope to learn this during training.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
America: Found
So I've been putting off this recap post for a long time. And with the Peace Corps breathing down my neck, I wanted to tie up the loose ends of what I did on the road trip. So here is an abbreviated narrative of what went down.
We left Washington, D.C., ad drove to Richmond. On the way, we stopped at a Wa Wa, which was located on Jefferson Davis Blvd.
In Richmond, we went to the Museum of the Confederacy. The museum tries to convince you that slavery was not the main cause of the Civil War. In fact, there is a display that talks about the role that African Americans played in the Confederate war effort (both slaves and free ones). There is another big display that talks about how the South, when it realized it was losing the war, thought about maybe possible considering the possibility of freeing the slaves to help the war.
Then we drove to Chapel Hill, N.C. to go to the Clemson-UNC basketball game. We tried to meet up with my friend for dinner before the game but his phone died, and while he was driving to the phone store to get a new charger, he was pulled over for running a stop sign. So we had Qdoba and went to the game.
The Dean Smith Center is huge. It seats 20,000, and everybody is wearing Carolina Blue. We sat behind the basket in the upper deck. The guy sitting next to us played college football against a Bo Schembechler-coached Presbyterian team in 1950. It was a close game for a half, then UNC blew them out.
We planned to spend the night at my friend's apartment. He works for Duke. Well, he didn't answer his phone after the game. Long story short. It took two hours, phone calls to his sister, his mom, a guy named Snapper, 23 missed calls, and a guy in Durham brandishing a knife, but we finally contacted my friend and spent the night at his place. At one point, we considered couchsurfing in Kryzyzewskiville, but it was so cold that the tenters were given a grace period.
The next day, we drove to Atlanta. On the way, we passed Dale Earnhardt Blvd. in Kannapolis, N.C. (I just want to race, Daddy). In Atlanta, we stayed with my college roommate. We had a delicious dinner at his house before hitting the town. Highlights from that night included our Siberian waitress at the Irish bar and the Waffle House at Underground (considered by many to be the shadiest Waffle House in Georgia).
The next day we went to downtown Atlanta, looked into visiting the aquarium before deciding it was too expensive, looked into going on the CNN Center tour before deciding it was worthwhile, wandered around the Olympic Park, and went to the World of Coke. This was a good decision, except that the Coca-Cola bear bit off my friend's head. After the Coke Museum, we stopped at the Varsity diner, an Atlanta staple, before hitting the road toward New Orleans.
We stopped at the Tuskegee Airmen National Historic Site in Tuskegee, Alabama. The museum isn't quite open but, because one of the Airmen's trainers was visiting, we were treated to a special tour. Then we hit the road for the Big Easy.
We stayed with one of Marshall's high school friends, who is doing Teach for America in New Orleans. We went out that night, and through a random conversation, I learned that one of my good friends from Michigan was working for Americorps in New Orleans. I saw her the next day.
We pretty much spent the next couple of days exploring New Orleans, walking around the French Quarter, going to different music shows, eating beignets, searching for the king in king cakes, riding the street car, and learning about the hurricane relief effort.
After a weekend in New Orleans, we began our journey northward. Our first stop was at an unsatisfying, all-you-can-eat buffet in Meridian, Mississippi. Then, we got off the freeway in Birmingham, Alabama to drop by Bob Dylan's favorite bar, except that it is closed on Monday mornings. So, we continued to Nashville.
We spent the night taking in the scene on Broadway. We saw a country band, a bluegrass band, and enjoyed pint night at another establishment. Even I enjoyed pint night, because I got a root beer. The next morning we took a tour of the Parthenon. They build a model of the Greek structure in Nashville because some guy coined the town the "Athens of the South." Then we got lost in the Opryland Hotel, which has four different ecosystems in it and everything you could ever think would be in a hotel and more. Afterwards, we said goodbye to Marshall and continued our journey.
Unfortunately, the rain that was falling froze. So driving conditions were far from ideal. While driving on a two-lane highway in southern Indiana, we drove off the road and had to be towed out of the ditch. The guy whose lawn we drove onto had one eye and was carrying a sawed-off shovel. He was only there to help. We spent the night in Paoli, Indiana, which is famous for having a ski hill and is just a few miles from French Lick (hometown of Larry Bird).
We spent the next morning in Paoli, waiting for the roads to clear and enjoying the ambiance at the local diner. A bunch of the people staying at our motel questioned whether we would be able to move our snowed-in Buick LeSabre. Well, let's just say that this "city boy" proved them wrong. We were on our way to Bloomington.
We spent the night there with Danny's friend Danny. The next day we drove back to Ann Arbor for Danny's farewell party. We enjoyed a final meal together at the Northside before heading home.
We left Washington, D.C., ad drove to Richmond. On the way, we stopped at a Wa Wa, which was located on Jefferson Davis Blvd.
In Richmond, we went to the Museum of the Confederacy. The museum tries to convince you that slavery was not the main cause of the Civil War. In fact, there is a display that talks about the role that African Americans played in the Confederate war effort (both slaves and free ones). There is another big display that talks about how the South, when it realized it was losing the war, thought about maybe possible considering the possibility of freeing the slaves to help the war.
Then we drove to Chapel Hill, N.C. to go to the Clemson-UNC basketball game. We tried to meet up with my friend for dinner before the game but his phone died, and while he was driving to the phone store to get a new charger, he was pulled over for running a stop sign. So we had Qdoba and went to the game.
The Dean Smith Center is huge. It seats 20,000, and everybody is wearing Carolina Blue. We sat behind the basket in the upper deck. The guy sitting next to us played college football against a Bo Schembechler-coached Presbyterian team in 1950. It was a close game for a half, then UNC blew them out.
We planned to spend the night at my friend's apartment. He works for Duke. Well, he didn't answer his phone after the game. Long story short. It took two hours, phone calls to his sister, his mom, a guy named Snapper, 23 missed calls, and a guy in Durham brandishing a knife, but we finally contacted my friend and spent the night at his place. At one point, we considered couchsurfing in Kryzyzewskiville, but it was so cold that the tenters were given a grace period.
The next day, we drove to Atlanta. On the way, we passed Dale Earnhardt Blvd. in Kannapolis, N.C. (I just want to race, Daddy). In Atlanta, we stayed with my college roommate. We had a delicious dinner at his house before hitting the town. Highlights from that night included our Siberian waitress at the Irish bar and the Waffle House at Underground (considered by many to be the shadiest Waffle House in Georgia).
The next day we went to downtown Atlanta, looked into visiting the aquarium before deciding it was too expensive, looked into going on the CNN Center tour before deciding it was worthwhile, wandered around the Olympic Park, and went to the World of Coke. This was a good decision, except that the Coca-Cola bear bit off my friend's head. After the Coke Museum, we stopped at the Varsity diner, an Atlanta staple, before hitting the road toward New Orleans.
We stopped at the Tuskegee Airmen National Historic Site in Tuskegee, Alabama. The museum isn't quite open but, because one of the Airmen's trainers was visiting, we were treated to a special tour. Then we hit the road for the Big Easy.
We stayed with one of Marshall's high school friends, who is doing Teach for America in New Orleans. We went out that night, and through a random conversation, I learned that one of my good friends from Michigan was working for Americorps in New Orleans. I saw her the next day.
We pretty much spent the next couple of days exploring New Orleans, walking around the French Quarter, going to different music shows, eating beignets, searching for the king in king cakes, riding the street car, and learning about the hurricane relief effort.
After a weekend in New Orleans, we began our journey northward. Our first stop was at an unsatisfying, all-you-can-eat buffet in Meridian, Mississippi. Then, we got off the freeway in Birmingham, Alabama to drop by Bob Dylan's favorite bar, except that it is closed on Monday mornings. So, we continued to Nashville.
We spent the night taking in the scene on Broadway. We saw a country band, a bluegrass band, and enjoyed pint night at another establishment. Even I enjoyed pint night, because I got a root beer. The next morning we took a tour of the Parthenon. They build a model of the Greek structure in Nashville because some guy coined the town the "Athens of the South." Then we got lost in the Opryland Hotel, which has four different ecosystems in it and everything you could ever think would be in a hotel and more. Afterwards, we said goodbye to Marshall and continued our journey.
Unfortunately, the rain that was falling froze. So driving conditions were far from ideal. While driving on a two-lane highway in southern Indiana, we drove off the road and had to be towed out of the ditch. The guy whose lawn we drove onto had one eye and was carrying a sawed-off shovel. He was only there to help. We spent the night in Paoli, Indiana, which is famous for having a ski hill and is just a few miles from French Lick (hometown of Larry Bird).
We spent the next morning in Paoli, waiting for the roads to clear and enjoying the ambiance at the local diner. A bunch of the people staying at our motel questioned whether we would be able to move our snowed-in Buick LeSabre. Well, let's just say that this "city boy" proved them wrong. We were on our way to Bloomington.
We spent the night there with Danny's friend Danny. The next day we drove back to Ann Arbor for Danny's farewell party. We enjoyed a final meal together at the Northside before heading home.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
A picture will tell a thousand words
But more importantly, it takes less time to put on the website than writing a thousand words. Because we have had an action-packed few days since the Inauguation, I haven't really had too much time to craft any blog posts. There are plenty of great stories and fun facts from our last few days. I will post them on the site when I get some more time on my hands. In the meantime, here are a few pictures and helpful captions that will explain where we have been and what we have done.
These images just scratch the surface of what we have been up to. I will go into further detail soon.
Our first stop after celebrating the inauguration of our country's first African American president was the Museum of the Confederacy in Richmond, Va.
Phillip Morris Headquarters outside of Richmond. We didn't go in. This is as close as the tobacco companies can come to roadside billboards these days.
Dean Smith Center in Chapel Hill, N.C. for the UNC-Clemson game. I don't really like UNC because they beat Michigan in the 1993 NCAA Championship game, but I definitely respect their tradition and the size of the Dean Dome. I just wish that I rooted for such a showtime college basketball program.
Onion rings at the Varsity in Atlanta. Marshall says they are the best onion rings he has ever had. I concur.
Tuskegee Airmen Museum in Tuskegee, Alabama. This is where they went through basic flight training. The museum is normally closed during the week, but because one of the Airmen's flight instructors was visiting, they let us join his tour.
Old Hickory in Jackson Square in New Orleans.
Ian + Bourbon Street = Bad news for everyone involved
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Is the country better yet?
Everybody has their own impressions of the significance of this event in American history. For me, it was a cool experience. I am excited to see how this enthusiasm translates to change in America. The country has bought into Obama’s message. Now, I look forward to seeing how that message becomes action.
It has been a few days since Barack Obama took the oath of office. I've been in D.C. the most of the time, so I don't really have a good feeling for what is going on in the rest of America. But by my estimates, the country is 30 percent better than it was at 11:43 on Tuesday morning. Is this the sense that you get?
Who would've thought?
Go back five years in time. If someone were to tell you that in 2008-09, the following six events would occur, which would would you say was the least likely?
- The Devil Rays made the World Series
- The Cardinals made the Super Bowl
- Michigan would not go to a bowl game
- There is an African-American president
- Matt Millen would be fired by the Lions
Just like shavuot
I have tried to compare this atmosphere to anything else I have experienced. The closest thing I can think about is shavuot at the Western Wall. And the more I think about it, the closer this comparison becomes.
On shavuot, Jews gather from all over Jerusalem at the Western Wall. They walk in the wee hours of the morning to congregate at the Kotel for services before sunrise. Everybody is walking for the same purpose. There is some singing, some reflecting, and some conversing.
It was very similar on Tuesday morning in Washington as people walked from all over to meet at the National Mall.
Apparently, we were on TV
When some of the TV stations tried covered what the scene was like on the Mall, they apparently showed our group doing the hokey pokey trying to pass the time and stay warm. Then, as we, and more than a million others, filed out of the Mall after the ceremony, we broke into song (Lean on Me, Bohemian Rhapsody, The Victors). And everybody around us joined in. Someone told us that they heard something about that on the news.
Power nap
We woke up at 6:45 and got to the Mall at 8:30ish. The Metro was so crowded that we couldn't get on. So we had to walk from my friend's apartment in Woodley Park. Some people were pretty tired, like Danny. He slept on the ground for 45 minutes. When he awoke, half his body was freezing cold. He claimed to be very well rested.
People laughed at Dick Cheney in a wheelchair
Despicable
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington with 2,000,000 others
On Monday, we didn't have any inauguration-related events to attend. Instead, we observed Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and did a bit of sight-seeing in Washington.
In anticipation of inauguration, museums throughout Washington prepared for
history museums and prepared presidential-related exhibits to mark the occasion. Like most other tourists in town, we headed down to the Mall on Monday morning to check out some of those institutions.
All of American history in one museum
That's quite a task for anything to accomplish. So when you go to the National Museum of American History, you should lessen your expectations. I mean, it's only one building. They recently completed a renovation, and I don't think I've ever been there before.
The crowds were pretty intense, and the lines were pretty long. But if you go through the exhibit backwards, you won't run into many lines. That is how we approached the American Presidency exhibit. While the lines near the entrance were extensive, there was no wait at the exit.
The exhibit explored various aspects of the presidency, from the portrayal of presidents in film to the constitutional duties conferred upon the president. Obviously, I had to take this picture.
We also went through the exhibit about American at War, which gave a crash course on American military history. I thought it was very cool but gave extremely brief explanations on some of the most transformative events in American history (World War I, for example).
If it worked for Barack, it should work for us
Everywhere you look in DC, there is an advertisement supporting the ideas of hope and change. It's the same message that Obama used throughout his campaign to the White House. But these ads aren't coming from the Obama campaign. They're coming from Pepsi, Ikea, and SEIU.
Day of service
As one of her first acts as "Humanitarian-in-Chief," Michelle Obama declared yesterday a "national day of service." There were numerous volunteer opportunities throughout Washington. We didn't build homes with Joe Biden. Instead, we went to a massive volunteer fair in Rockville and helped make scarves and blankets with Montgomery Hospice. There were hundreds of people at the fair.
The Maryland Coalition Against Porn. The woman said that Maryland is one of four states where possession of child pornography is a misdemeanor. One of their goals is to support any business which does not support pornography. So, that means they're interested in supporting 99 percent of businesses in America. They taught us that pornography degrades children, not just child pornography but all pornography.
There were massive signs saying that there were peanuts on the premises because of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich operation on the other side of the room. There were a lot of signs, but that makes sense when you think about how many peanuts there were.
Danny was walking by a booth. The woman asked if he smoked. He didn't respond, but she gave him a pamphlet anyway. It was all in Korean. So, if you any Koreans in Montgomery County interested in quitting smoking, let me know. I have the organization for you.
Portrait Gallery
After volunteering, we went to the Portrait Gallery. I've been there before, but it's always a good time. I really enjoy the Presidential Gallery. Here are a few of the fun facts I picked up:
The most popular picture in the gallery was the Obama "Hope" picture. There was a very long line to get your picture taken with it, or you could just walk by and get a quick snap shot.
In anticipation of inauguration, museums throughout Washington prepared for
history museums and prepared presidential-related exhibits to mark the occasion. Like most other tourists in town, we headed down to the Mall on Monday morning to check out some of those institutions.
All of American history in one museum
That's quite a task for anything to accomplish. So when you go to the National Museum of American History, you should lessen your expectations. I mean, it's only one building. They recently completed a renovation, and I don't think I've ever been there before.
The crowds were pretty intense, and the lines were pretty long. But if you go through the exhibit backwards, you won't run into many lines. That is how we approached the American Presidency exhibit. While the lines near the entrance were extensive, there was no wait at the exit.
The exhibit explored various aspects of the presidency, from the portrayal of presidents in film to the constitutional duties conferred upon the president. Obviously, I had to take this picture.
We also went through the exhibit about American at War, which gave a crash course on American military history. I thought it was very cool but gave extremely brief explanations on some of the most transformative events in American history (World War I, for example).
If it worked for Barack, it should work for us
Everywhere you look in DC, there is an advertisement supporting the ideas of hope and change. It's the same message that Obama used throughout his campaign to the White House. But these ads aren't coming from the Obama campaign. They're coming from Pepsi, Ikea, and SEIU.
Day of service
As one of her first acts as "Humanitarian-in-Chief," Michelle Obama declared yesterday a "national day of service." There were numerous volunteer opportunities throughout Washington. We didn't build homes with Joe Biden. Instead, we went to a massive volunteer fair in Rockville and helped make scarves and blankets with Montgomery Hospice. There were hundreds of people at the fair.
The Maryland Coalition Against Porn. The woman said that Maryland is one of four states where possession of child pornography is a misdemeanor. One of their goals is to support any business which does not support pornography. So, that means they're interested in supporting 99 percent of businesses in America. They taught us that pornography degrades children, not just child pornography but all pornography.
There were massive signs saying that there were peanuts on the premises because of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich operation on the other side of the room. There were a lot of signs, but that makes sense when you think about how many peanuts there were.
Danny was walking by a booth. The woman asked if he smoked. He didn't respond, but she gave him a pamphlet anyway. It was all in Korean. So, if you any Koreans in Montgomery County interested in quitting smoking, let me know. I have the organization for you.
Portrait Gallery
After volunteering, we went to the Portrait Gallery. I've been there before, but it's always a good time. I really enjoy the Presidential Gallery. Here are a few of the fun facts I picked up:
- Andrew Johnson's wife taught him to read.
- Calvin Coolidge's dad administered the oath of office to his son on their Vermont farm after Warren G. Harding's death.
- Phyllis Wheatley was the first black woman to financially support herself as a writer.
The most popular picture in the gallery was the Obama "Hope" picture. There was a very long line to get your picture taken with it, or you could just walk by and get a quick snap shot.
Obamania or, in Hebrew, Obamagan
I spent Saturday afternoon with 750,000 of my closest friends. We sat in front of the Lincoln Memorial, in the same setting as Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream Speech", Marian Anderson in 1939, and Forrest Gump's "That's all there is to say about that" speech.
We got there at 9:00 a.m. and, after sitting in the freezing temperature for seven hours, left the Mall feeling great — about life and out country's direction.
Here is what we could see from our spot, which was actually very good. We were about 80% of the way up the reflection pond.
I'm sure you all watched the concert on TV, so I won't go into the details of every speaker. The consensus top performances from the afternoon were Bruce Springsteen, Herbie Hancock, Will.I.Am, Sheryl Crow, and James Taylor. The consensus worst was Tiger Woods.
Preview
At about 10:30 a.m., several of the performers came on stage for a practice run. The top performers of this part were the national anthem performer who went through the song six times (there was a lot of confusion over whether to stand up every time or just realize he was practicing) and Tom Hanks.
Hanks was standing at the podium for a long time, apparently trying to pick up the cues for his montage. But the sound kept going in and out while he was up there, which had everybody joking about his scene from Forrest Gump. There were also several people joking about running on the frozen reflection pool, playing the role of Jenny. Disappointingly, nobody did.
Jack Black also appeared on stage during the dry run, but nobody really heard him.
I came prepared for seven hours in the cold
Now, I forgot to bring a book, a deck of cards, or anything to keep me entertained throughout the day. Luckily, I brought these.
Riot?
Five minutes before the HBO broadcast started, someone stood at the podium and started to speak. But the issue was nobody could hear. The jumbotrons showed somebody speaking at the podium, but the sound was off. This was the case throughout the sound check as well.
This evoked chants of "turn it up," "we can't hear," and "there's no sound." Luckily, the speakers turned on once the HBO broadcast started. If this quiet continued throughout the concert, there would have been a massive riot.
The organizers could have corrected this problem a few ways. One would have been to turn on the sound. The other would have been to turn off the monitors because we were so far away from the stage we would not have known someone was speaking unless he appeared on the big screen.
Men in Trees
Put a few hundred thousand Obama supporters in an open field for three hours and you know a few of them will resort to their hippie tendencies. The loudest cheers throughout the pre-concert festivities were when people climbed up the trees that line the reflection pond.
It took about six hours for the first beach balls to appear. C'mon, people.
This feels very familiar
Walking through downtown D.C. after the concert the the entire crowd heading in the same direction felt very similar to the feeling of walking down Hoover Street after a big Michigan win. And everybody was feeling that good after the concert, too.
We got there at 9:00 a.m. and, after sitting in the freezing temperature for seven hours, left the Mall feeling great — about life and out country's direction.
Here is what we could see from our spot, which was actually very good. We were about 80% of the way up the reflection pond.
I'm sure you all watched the concert on TV, so I won't go into the details of every speaker. The consensus top performances from the afternoon were Bruce Springsteen, Herbie Hancock, Will.I.Am, Sheryl Crow, and James Taylor. The consensus worst was Tiger Woods.
Preview
At about 10:30 a.m., several of the performers came on stage for a practice run. The top performers of this part were the national anthem performer who went through the song six times (there was a lot of confusion over whether to stand up every time or just realize he was practicing) and Tom Hanks.
Hanks was standing at the podium for a long time, apparently trying to pick up the cues for his montage. But the sound kept going in and out while he was up there, which had everybody joking about his scene from Forrest Gump. There were also several people joking about running on the frozen reflection pool, playing the role of Jenny. Disappointingly, nobody did.
Jack Black also appeared on stage during the dry run, but nobody really heard him.
I came prepared for seven hours in the cold
Now, I forgot to bring a book, a deck of cards, or anything to keep me entertained throughout the day. Luckily, I brought these.
Riot?
Five minutes before the HBO broadcast started, someone stood at the podium and started to speak. But the issue was nobody could hear. The jumbotrons showed somebody speaking at the podium, but the sound was off. This was the case throughout the sound check as well.
This evoked chants of "turn it up," "we can't hear," and "there's no sound." Luckily, the speakers turned on once the HBO broadcast started. If this quiet continued throughout the concert, there would have been a massive riot.
The organizers could have corrected this problem a few ways. One would have been to turn on the sound. The other would have been to turn off the monitors because we were so far away from the stage we would not have known someone was speaking unless he appeared on the big screen.
Men in Trees
Put a few hundred thousand Obama supporters in an open field for three hours and you know a few of them will resort to their hippie tendencies. The loudest cheers throughout the pre-concert festivities were when people climbed up the trees that line the reflection pond.
It took about six hours for the first beach balls to appear. C'mon, people.
This feels very familiar
Walking through downtown D.C. after the concert the the entire crowd heading in the same direction felt very similar to the feeling of walking down Hoover Street after a big Michigan win. And everybody was feeling that good after the concert, too.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Welcome to D.C.
Day 1 = Success
We drove from Detroit to Washington, D.C. No problems. Here are a few highlights from out first day on the road.
Coincidence?
Yogi Berra once said "that's too coincidental to be a coincidence." I'm not quite sure what he was referring to, but as merged onto I-696 yesterday morning, we experienced something beyond happenstance.
While we were on the on ramp, the opening notes of "House of the Rising Sun" started played on the radio. Since the climax of our road trip will be a weekend in New Orleans, I can't help but think something beyond pure chance was at play.
I'm probably wrong, though.
Let down by The Wolf
With the advent of iPod and the technology that allows you to connect them to your car stereo, the importance of the car radio has lessened. You no longer have to scan the entire spectrum, looking for a song that appeases everybody in the car. Instead, you can put your iTunes library on shuffle.
But when I drive in Ohio and Pennsylvania, I turn off the iPod and listen to the best classic rock station in the Big Ten, 93.3: The Wolf. Every time I go through this part of the country, I tune in. And it has never let me down. I felt as if the station knew exactly what I wanted.
But times have changed. No longer routinely playing hits from the 60s and 70s, The Wolf now features heavy metal and modern rock.
The cheapest Quizno's sandwich ever
Ninety minutes into the Pennsylvania Turnpike, Danny and I got hungry for lunch. We pulled off at the service plaza. But meal options were relatively slim. There was a Roy Rogers, Starbuck's, and Quizno's.
At Quizno's, the only vegetarian option was the $6.59 Vegetarian sub. For me, that was a bit too much to spend on a mediocre sandwich. I had sandwich fix-ins in the car. All I needed was some bread. So, all I did was buy a piece of bread and put some of my lox on it.
Danny also bought some bread. But instead of fillng it with stuff from the bar, Danny made a sandwich from the pepper bar.
A taste of Kandahar
When we got to D.C., we went to dinner at an Afghani restaurant with our friend, Naomi. Neither of us had ever eaten Afghan food and didn't really know what to expect. The menu was full of grilled meat and other Central Asian favorites. There were a few vegetarian items on the menu, mostly featuring eggplant, sweet potato, and spinach. There was also a delicious dip served with the bread before the meal.
Overall, the meal was pretty good. I don't think I will travel to Afghanistan just for the food. I will need another reason to go.
Party foul
After dinner, we went to a graduation party for Naomi's friend. It was pretty much your standard apartment party. I met a bunch of interesting people and had a good time. But we witnessed something rather atypical.
It's always nice when you can bring a beverage to enhance the party — it's just part of being a good guest. But three girls came into the party and just brought mixers.
Now, I understand that you might need to bring a mixer to dilute/add flavor to the alcohol you are drinking. I find it completely inappropriate that these girls would bring four mixers and no alcohol to the party.
What's he going to do with the leftover Diet 7Up?
Drinking games without the mess
Naomi's friend lives in a nice apartment, but from all appearances, it doesn't look outfitted for people to play drinking games. There is plenty of space, but it lacks the front lawn for cornhole or a table long enough for beer pong.
These problems can be remedied with Wii Sober. This is a beer pong and cornhole video game. Brilliant.
We can't wait for Wii to upgrade its game with a flip cup and lawn darts.
We drove from Detroit to Washington, D.C. No problems. Here are a few highlights from out first day on the road.
Coincidence?
Yogi Berra once said "that's too coincidental to be a coincidence." I'm not quite sure what he was referring to, but as merged onto I-696 yesterday morning, we experienced something beyond happenstance.
While we were on the on ramp, the opening notes of "House of the Rising Sun" started played on the radio. Since the climax of our road trip will be a weekend in New Orleans, I can't help but think something beyond pure chance was at play.
I'm probably wrong, though.
Let down by The Wolf
With the advent of iPod and the technology that allows you to connect them to your car stereo, the importance of the car radio has lessened. You no longer have to scan the entire spectrum, looking for a song that appeases everybody in the car. Instead, you can put your iTunes library on shuffle.
But when I drive in Ohio and Pennsylvania, I turn off the iPod and listen to the best classic rock station in the Big Ten, 93.3: The Wolf. Every time I go through this part of the country, I tune in. And it has never let me down. I felt as if the station knew exactly what I wanted.
But times have changed. No longer routinely playing hits from the 60s and 70s, The Wolf now features heavy metal and modern rock.
The cheapest Quizno's sandwich ever
Ninety minutes into the Pennsylvania Turnpike, Danny and I got hungry for lunch. We pulled off at the service plaza. But meal options were relatively slim. There was a Roy Rogers, Starbuck's, and Quizno's.
At Quizno's, the only vegetarian option was the $6.59 Vegetarian sub. For me, that was a bit too much to spend on a mediocre sandwich. I had sandwich fix-ins in the car. All I needed was some bread. So, all I did was buy a piece of bread and put some of my lox on it.
Danny also bought some bread. But instead of fillng it with stuff from the bar, Danny made a sandwich from the pepper bar.
A taste of Kandahar
When we got to D.C., we went to dinner at an Afghani restaurant with our friend, Naomi. Neither of us had ever eaten Afghan food and didn't really know what to expect. The menu was full of grilled meat and other Central Asian favorites. There were a few vegetarian items on the menu, mostly featuring eggplant, sweet potato, and spinach. There was also a delicious dip served with the bread before the meal.
Overall, the meal was pretty good. I don't think I will travel to Afghanistan just for the food. I will need another reason to go.
Party foul
After dinner, we went to a graduation party for Naomi's friend. It was pretty much your standard apartment party. I met a bunch of interesting people and had a good time. But we witnessed something rather atypical.
It's always nice when you can bring a beverage to enhance the party — it's just part of being a good guest. But three girls came into the party and just brought mixers.
Now, I understand that you might need to bring a mixer to dilute/add flavor to the alcohol you are drinking. I find it completely inappropriate that these girls would bring four mixers and no alcohol to the party.
What's he going to do with the leftover Diet 7Up?
Drinking games without the mess
Naomi's friend lives in a nice apartment, but from all appearances, it doesn't look outfitted for people to play drinking games. There is plenty of space, but it lacks the front lawn for cornhole or a table long enough for beer pong.
These problems can be remedied with Wii Sober. This is a beer pong and cornhole video game. Brilliant.
We can't wait for Wii to upgrade its game with a flip cup and lawn darts.
Friday, January 16, 2009
I've gone to look for America
For the next two weeks, my friend Danny and I will embark on a road trip.
We each have a little while before we have commitments in the real world. Seizing upon this opportunity, we decided to go for a journey. Our original idea was to drive all the way to Mexico City. Although the itinerary has changed drastically, the purpose has not.
There is so much of America that we have yet to see, and we don't know when we will have this opportunity to explore again.
Saddled up in a Buick LeSabre, we have gone to look for America. I will post about what we find.
The Post-Graduate Life
I worked hard for four-and-a-half years to earn my college degree. Don't I deserve a little bit of a break?
Maybe I don't, but I gave myself one anyway.
In the three weeks since finishing finals, I have spent the majority of my time on these two cushions.
Despite all the hours logged on the couch in the last few weeks, I would classify that time as productive.
This free time has allowed me to catch up on movies and TV shows that I have missed in the last few years.
Here is a partial list of what I have watched since coming home (I have seen some of these before).
Maybe I don't, but I gave myself one anyway.
In the three weeks since finishing finals, I have spent the majority of my time on these two cushions.
Despite all the hours logged on the couch in the last few weeks, I would classify that time as productive.
This free time has allowed me to catch up on movies and TV shows that I have missed in the last few years.
Here is a partial list of what I have watched since coming home (I have seen some of these before).
- Crash
- Last King of Scotland
- Three Days of the Condor
- Independence Day
- Major League
- Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
- Favela Rising
- City of God
- Entourage (first season)
- Flight of the Conchords (first season)
- The Sopranos (first three seasons)
- Barton Fink
- Primary
- Chariots of Fire
- Primary
- Glory
- Juno
- Black Sheep
- Christmas Vacation
- Alien
- City Slickers
- Tommy Boy (well, I sat the front of the car while it was playing the back seat)
- You Don't Mess With The Zohan (several times)
- High School High
- The Simpsons Movie
- Home Alone 2
- Zach and Miri Make a Porno
- Remember the Titans
- Jerry Maguire
- I'm Not There
- Transformers
- Matilda
- Slumdog Millionaire
- Gran Torino
- The Wrestler
Monday, September 01, 2008
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