Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Books, Books, I Love Books
I mentioned in my previous post the "stunning" mobile library that exists between volunteers here in Ecua-land. Just take a look at some of these titles, will ya?
And while you're at it, take a step back and admire my organization skills, please. This is why I like hosting Thanksgiving: it forces me to clean my house. This corner of the room looked pretty heinous before TDay.
That whole big shelf-console-thing was bequeathed me by a departing volunteer; hand-me-downs are a tradition among volunteers. A tradition without which I would be sitting on the floor instead of on a futon and living off cold cereal and a raw foods diet in the absence of a stove.
But anyway, back to the books.
Many of the items that get handed down - or rather, passed around - between volunteers are books. This makes me jump for joy! I was so afraid of coming to Peace Corps and being sent to a remote town without any good reading material. I lucked out in that Ecuador is a small enough country with a large enough network of bus lines that volunteers are able to visit each other fairly regularly. And they usually come with a couple pounds of good reading material stuffed into their bags.
I also lucked out because I have awesome family and friends back home who send me reading material. Without this fodder from afar, the PCV mobile library would likely never expand; it's difficult to find literature here, generally speaking, especially in the English language. So thanks, everyone who's been sending me books! Your good deeds will surely be rewarded. I hope.
(Seriously, this is quite the literary soirée: Mr. Fleming, meet Herr Goethe. Mr. Salinger, meet Señor García Márquez.)
Somehow, the library I've accumulated here has come to rival the one I have at home. These books are like friends - and they come from friends, and they remind me of friends. And there's no better frame of mind than that when I'm sitting down to open a well-worn cover and start reading.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
The Similarities in Stress Levels Between Earthworms and PCVs - with a graph!
When we were preparing the worm bed for the garden, a Peace Corps staff member from the Agriculture group described the proper care and attention for the worms. He made it a point that we have to periodically stir the bed to evenly distribute soil/newspapers/desperdicios, encouraging the worms to roam freely throughout the whole bed. And we must place the bed in a cool, shaded spot. If we didn't do these things, he warned us, the worms would become estresados – stressed out. And those poor, stressed out little wormies would just hang out at the bottom of the bed and not eat anything or produce any humus because they were so, so stressed...just imagine, the weight of all that newspaper and soil and vegetable waste pressing down on them...
I had to laugh at the idea of an earthworm getting stressed out (I can't really picture it, can you?), but then I started empathizing with the little guys. And then it struck me—Come to think of it, people don't generally think of Peace Corps volunteers as “stressed out,” do they? Most people associate Peace Corps with things like adventure, excitement, and learning about new cultures, languages, and foods – and these things are all true. But they and stress are not mutually exclusive.
For one thing, adventure brings its own kind of stress. There's the experience of not knowing how to prepare for something because you have no concrete idea of what it is going to be like. I’m reminded of trying to pack my bags before coming to Ecuador, staring blankly at the packing list Peace Corps provided us, which was obviously generic yet somehow meant to simultaneously serve the needs of volunteers headed for snowy Ukraine, sunny Africa, coastal Ecuador, and probably the isolated Fiji Islands, too. (The result was that I didn’t start packing until the day before I left, nearly causing my poor mother to have a myocardial infarction.)
Then, once you do find yourself plopped down in the middle of the situation – thinking, Oh! so this is how people in Ecuador dress, and Oh! so this is what the weather is like on the equator, and Oh! so this is what guinea pig tastes like – then, there’s all the minor adjustments to daily life you have to make. Things like throwing toilet paper into a wastebasket instead of flushing it down the toilet (sounds gross, right? meh, you get used to it). Things like people answering their cell phones in the middle of a class or a meeting. Things like being expected to eat the entire heaping plate of rice your host mom just set in front of you. These things, benign in themselves, when combined can build to a breaking point. One day at the supermarket the security guard yelled at me because I attempted to enter the store wearing a backpack, which is supposed to be stowed in a locker; I started to cry. It was a last straw kind of thing, ya know?
Eventually, every volunteer learns to adapt just by being where they are: we come to know what we didn't before, the expectedly-unexpected becomes reality, and we find ways to deal with the cultural differences that boggle our minds. I should say, boggled our minds - past tense, because one of the most effective ways to acclimate to the little stuff is to participate until it becomes habit. If my phone rings and I'm in the middle of teaching a class and I don't answer it, everyone looks at me like I'm weird and a bad person. So I just answer it. Of course there are some cultural differences – attitudes and behaviors regarding gender roles or corporal punishment, for example – that may never, ever line up with an individual's personal beliefs. Especially a person who comes from a culture where the attitudes and behaviors regarding such topics are at the opposite end of the spectrum. And all of those things we can’t or won’t adapt to - let’s just throw those onto the stress pile, too.
So, why am I making you listen to the myriad ways Peace Corps volunteers can get stressed out? To see if you I can stress YOU out, of course.
Are you stressed yet?
Are you stressed yet?
Are you stressed yet?
Are you stressed yet?
I kid. My main point is threefold:
1) It is quite possible to be stressed out in the Peace Corps, in case you were wondering, and even if you weren’t.
2) In fact, it’s probably the norm to sustain SOME level of anxiety about SOMETHING for the majority of your service. Here’s a handy-dandy graph to illustrate:
3) We all have to find ways to adapt and adjust if we want to integrate into our communities, make a positive impact, and be successful volunteers during the two short years that we are here.
So, when push comes to shove comes to oh-my-gosh-what-the-heck-am-I-doing-here, how do we deal? Here’s a list of common stress relievers among PCVs in Ecuador:
Physical exercise. For me, this comes in the form of running. And let me tell you, I hated running for many, many years. I spent all of junior high frantically inventing ways to get out of the dreaded weekly mile-and-a-half run in P.E. It was, at that point in my life, the bane of my existence. And now? – I look forward to running six miles at the end of a busy day. Because if I’m going to throw a stomping temper tantrum out of frustration, I might as well check out the scenery at the same time.
Journaling. Lots of us journal. It’s a form of self-reflection, and of holding oneself accountable.
Creating something with your hands. Some people paint lovely portraits or landscapes on canvas; some people knit scarves, hats, and blankets; some people build their own furniture. I paint my toenails. Anything that’s absorbing in a way that transports you away from external distractions and into the what and how of whatever it is you’re creating.
Drinking. Not necessarily to excess, but I for one would be lying if I said I never looked forward to a cold beer at the end of a long day in the coastal heat.
Stories, i.e., reading books and watching movies. There is a stunning mobile library among PCVs (on a recent trip with a group of PCV friends, we spent the morning of our departure bickering about who was going to get which books versus what we actually thought of them), and movies are to be had here for a song (which, if you're like me, means you'll be up at midnight polishing off the leftover Thanksgiving stuffing while watching Top Gun).
Conversations with friends and family. Friends and family from home, Ecuadorian friends and host family, and other PCVs. Simply airing one’s frustrations and grievances to a sympathetic listener does wonders for the soul.
Lying. It is incredibly easy to lie here. "Yes, I have a boyfriend, we're engaged to be married next month." "No, I can’t eat rice; I’m allergic." Etc., etc.
Serving yourself a huge mug of something, anything: colada morada, hot chocolate, tea, juice, ice cream... Or, just making and eating food that reminds you of home, like PB&J or mac'n'cheese.
Taking a shower. Okay, this last one may be more of a personal quirk than anything. But who’s going to object to extra efforts at hygiene, right?
There are days when, for whatever reason, any volunteer may feel unmotivated and be less than productive. Lest we find ourselves huddled in the corner of the shower (okay, I admit again, maybe that’s just me), we find ways to cope and get ourselves back to work. It’s just like the worms: mix things up a little bit and you realize that what was previously an obstacle has now become an opportunity; the Great Beyond is not just a pile of rotting debris sitting on your head, but rather an appetizing array of newspaper and vegetable peels – and we shall munch our way through it with gusto.
I had to laugh at the idea of an earthworm getting stressed out (I can't really picture it, can you?), but then I started empathizing with the little guys. And then it struck me—Come to think of it, people don't generally think of Peace Corps volunteers as “stressed out,” do they? Most people associate Peace Corps with things like adventure, excitement, and learning about new cultures, languages, and foods – and these things are all true. But they and stress are not mutually exclusive.
For one thing, adventure brings its own kind of stress. There's the experience of not knowing how to prepare for something because you have no concrete idea of what it is going to be like. I’m reminded of trying to pack my bags before coming to Ecuador, staring blankly at the packing list Peace Corps provided us, which was obviously generic yet somehow meant to simultaneously serve the needs of volunteers headed for snowy Ukraine, sunny Africa, coastal Ecuador, and probably the isolated Fiji Islands, too. (The result was that I didn’t start packing until the day before I left, nearly causing my poor mother to have a myocardial infarction.)
Then, once you do find yourself plopped down in the middle of the situation – thinking, Oh! so this is how people in Ecuador dress, and Oh! so this is what the weather is like on the equator, and Oh! so this is what guinea pig tastes like – then, there’s all the minor adjustments to daily life you have to make. Things like throwing toilet paper into a wastebasket instead of flushing it down the toilet (sounds gross, right? meh, you get used to it). Things like people answering their cell phones in the middle of a class or a meeting. Things like being expected to eat the entire heaping plate of rice your host mom just set in front of you. These things, benign in themselves, when combined can build to a breaking point. One day at the supermarket the security guard yelled at me because I attempted to enter the store wearing a backpack, which is supposed to be stowed in a locker; I started to cry. It was a last straw kind of thing, ya know?
Eventually, every volunteer learns to adapt just by being where they are: we come to know what we didn't before, the expectedly-unexpected becomes reality, and we find ways to deal with the cultural differences that boggle our minds. I should say, boggled our minds - past tense, because one of the most effective ways to acclimate to the little stuff is to participate until it becomes habit. If my phone rings and I'm in the middle of teaching a class and I don't answer it, everyone looks at me like I'm weird and a bad person. So I just answer it. Of course there are some cultural differences – attitudes and behaviors regarding gender roles or corporal punishment, for example – that may never, ever line up with an individual's personal beliefs. Especially a person who comes from a culture where the attitudes and behaviors regarding such topics are at the opposite end of the spectrum. And all of those things we can’t or won’t adapt to - let’s just throw those onto the stress pile, too.
So, why am I making you listen to the myriad ways Peace Corps volunteers can get stressed out? To see if you I can stress YOU out, of course.
Are you stressed yet?
Are you stressed yet?
Are you stressed yet?
Are you stressed yet?
I kid. My main point is threefold:
1) It is quite possible to be stressed out in the Peace Corps, in case you were wondering, and even if you weren’t.
2) In fact, it’s probably the norm to sustain SOME level of anxiety about SOMETHING for the majority of your service. Here’s a handy-dandy graph to illustrate:
3) We all have to find ways to adapt and adjust if we want to integrate into our communities, make a positive impact, and be successful volunteers during the two short years that we are here.
So, when push comes to shove comes to oh-my-gosh-what-the-heck-am-I-doing-here, how do we deal? Here’s a list of common stress relievers among PCVs in Ecuador:
Physical exercise. For me, this comes in the form of running. And let me tell you, I hated running for many, many years. I spent all of junior high frantically inventing ways to get out of the dreaded weekly mile-and-a-half run in P.E. It was, at that point in my life, the bane of my existence. And now? – I look forward to running six miles at the end of a busy day. Because if I’m going to throw a stomping temper tantrum out of frustration, I might as well check out the scenery at the same time.
Journaling. Lots of us journal. It’s a form of self-reflection, and of holding oneself accountable.
Creating something with your hands. Some people paint lovely portraits or landscapes on canvas; some people knit scarves, hats, and blankets; some people build their own furniture. I paint my toenails. Anything that’s absorbing in a way that transports you away from external distractions and into the what and how of whatever it is you’re creating.
Drinking. Not necessarily to excess, but I for one would be lying if I said I never looked forward to a cold beer at the end of a long day in the coastal heat.
Stories, i.e., reading books and watching movies. There is a stunning mobile library among PCVs (on a recent trip with a group of PCV friends, we spent the morning of our departure bickering about who was going to get which books versus what we actually thought of them), and movies are to be had here for a song (which, if you're like me, means you'll be up at midnight polishing off the leftover Thanksgiving stuffing while watching Top Gun).
Conversations with friends and family. Friends and family from home, Ecuadorian friends and host family, and other PCVs. Simply airing one’s frustrations and grievances to a sympathetic listener does wonders for the soul.
Lying. It is incredibly easy to lie here. "Yes, I have a boyfriend, we're engaged to be married next month." "No, I can’t eat rice; I’m allergic." Etc., etc.
Serving yourself a huge mug of something, anything: colada morada, hot chocolate, tea, juice, ice cream... Or, just making and eating food that reminds you of home, like PB&J or mac'n'cheese.
Taking a shower. Okay, this last one may be more of a personal quirk than anything. But who’s going to object to extra efforts at hygiene, right?
There are days when, for whatever reason, any volunteer may feel unmotivated and be less than productive. Lest we find ourselves huddled in the corner of the shower (okay, I admit again, maybe that’s just me), we find ways to cope and get ourselves back to work. It’s just like the worms: mix things up a little bit and you realize that what was previously an obstacle has now become an opportunity; the Great Beyond is not just a pile of rotting debris sitting on your head, but rather an appetizing array of newspaper and vegetable peels – and we shall munch our way through it with gusto.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Quiz Answers
I know how hard it's been for you to wait...thank you for your incredible patience...and now, I shall reveal the identities of the mysterious garden veggie pictures posted a couple days back. Ready?
This guy is a squash (zapallo). The fruit isn't fully ripe yet, as you can see below.
And they're quickly taking over their half of the bed.
These guys are radishes (rábanos). They're almost ready to be harvested and are sometimes used here in soups and salads.
And this you should recognize as flat-leaf parsley (perejil), good for use in pretty much any kind of soup, according to my sources.
This guy is my favorite - maybe because the scent of a tomato plant brings me back to being a kid and helping my grandfather water his garden in the summer. As one of the ladies exclaimed the other day, ¡Qué rico el olor de las matas de tomate! What a lovely smell the tomato plants have! I wholeheartedly agree.
These guys are not producing quite yet, but they've grown rapidly in the few weeks since we've planted the seeds, as you can see below.
We planted the tomatoes on the other side of the health center, where there's more sunlight and where they can have their privacy. Tomato plants are extremely shy, did you know?
Next, we have the turnips (nabo). We've already harvested these, as they had grown to gargantuan proportions and were ready for being chopped up and thrown into a soup or salad. Yum.
And this guy - if you couldn't tell before, maybe you can now:
They're green bell peppers (pimientos)! It's almost time to harvest them as well. Now if only there were a way to whip up some ranch dressing...stand by, I will get back to you on this posthaste.
Credit to The Pioneer Woman for the vegetable quiz idea!
This guy is a squash (zapallo). The fruit isn't fully ripe yet, as you can see below.
And they're quickly taking over their half of the bed.
These guys are radishes (rábanos). They're almost ready to be harvested and are sometimes used here in soups and salads.
And this you should recognize as flat-leaf parsley (perejil), good for use in pretty much any kind of soup, according to my sources.
This guy is my favorite - maybe because the scent of a tomato plant brings me back to being a kid and helping my grandfather water his garden in the summer. As one of the ladies exclaimed the other day, ¡Qué rico el olor de las matas de tomate! What a lovely smell the tomato plants have! I wholeheartedly agree.
These guys are not producing quite yet, but they've grown rapidly in the few weeks since we've planted the seeds, as you can see below.
We planted the tomatoes on the other side of the health center, where there's more sunlight and where they can have their privacy. Tomato plants are extremely shy, did you know?
Next, we have the turnips (nabo). We've already harvested these, as they had grown to gargantuan proportions and were ready for being chopped up and thrown into a soup or salad. Yum.
And this guy - if you couldn't tell before, maybe you can now:
They're green bell peppers (pimientos)! It's almost time to harvest them as well. Now if only there were a way to whip up some ranch dressing...stand by, I will get back to you on this posthaste.
Credit to The Pioneer Woman for the vegetable quiz idea!
Friday, November 25, 2011
The Juan Pavo Makeover
You saw Juan Pavo before:
Cold, lonely, and afraid in the bottom of the freezer.
After a few days of thawing out, the Big Day came around, and it was Juan's turn for the oven. I started by pulling out that bag inside of him. You know, the one with all the innards?
Funny thing, there were feet in there along with everything else. I've never cooked a turkey in the States, but I'd bet my holey britches that the feet are not normally included with the bird.
Moving on, let me introduce you to these two turkeys. Whitni and Rip came into town to celebrate the day, and they cooked up some delectable treats. Unfortunately I didn't get pictures to document their culinary prowess; Juan Pavo was feeling needy. And then the stuffing felt left out, so I had to give it a little extra attention. From there it was a chain reaction with the side dishes, and before I knew it, I was simultaneously mediating between the carrots and the capers while attempting to prevent the pumpkin muffins from committing oven suicide.
These are a carry-over from last year's celebration. Welcome back, guys!
Now, Juan Pavo took his sweet time in the oven, but fortunately we had this to tide us through:
And the people were happy, and they saw that it was good. Amen.
By the time Mr. Pavo finally did emerge, everyone was hungry and happy.
*clears throat*
Drumroll, please.
...
...
...
Swimming in a sea of butter and rosemary, surrounded by dozens of adoring fans. Life couldn't get any better, Juan Pavo; your life's work is now fulfilled. And we only ended up eating one hour later than planned!
I didn't get pictures of the food. I was busy being a good hostess, okay? So here's some more turkeys:
"Turkeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey! Turkeyturkeyturkeyturkeyturkey..." If you can name that movie, I will give you a hug. If you can whistle the theme song from that movie, we must be soulmates.
This little turkeyling stole all of our hearts.
The lovely Isa models the latest in haute turkey cuisine.
We missed everyone who wasn't there to share the meal with us, but all in all it was another good Thanksgiving outside the U.S.
This is Turkey, over and out.
Cold, lonely, and afraid in the bottom of the freezer.
After a few days of thawing out, the Big Day came around, and it was Juan's turn for the oven. I started by pulling out that bag inside of him. You know, the one with all the innards?
Funny thing, there were feet in there along with everything else. I've never cooked a turkey in the States, but I'd bet my holey britches that the feet are not normally included with the bird.
Moving on, let me introduce you to these two turkeys. Whitni and Rip came into town to celebrate the day, and they cooked up some delectable treats. Unfortunately I didn't get pictures to document their culinary prowess; Juan Pavo was feeling needy. And then the stuffing felt left out, so I had to give it a little extra attention. From there it was a chain reaction with the side dishes, and before I knew it, I was simultaneously mediating between the carrots and the capers while attempting to prevent the pumpkin muffins from committing oven suicide.
These are a carry-over from last year's celebration. Welcome back, guys!
Now, Juan Pavo took his sweet time in the oven, but fortunately we had this to tide us through:
And the people were happy, and they saw that it was good. Amen.
By the time Mr. Pavo finally did emerge, everyone was hungry and happy.
*clears throat*
Drumroll, please.
...
...
...
Swimming in a sea of butter and rosemary, surrounded by dozens of adoring fans. Life couldn't get any better, Juan Pavo; your life's work is now fulfilled. And we only ended up eating one hour later than planned!
I didn't get pictures of the food. I was busy being a good hostess, okay? So here's some more turkeys:
"Turkeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey! Turkeyturkeyturkeyturkeyturkey..." If you can name that movie, I will give you a hug. If you can whistle the theme song from that movie, we must be soulmates.
This little turkeyling stole all of our hearts.
The lovely Isa models the latest in haute turkey cuisine.
We missed everyone who wasn't there to share the meal with us, but all in all it was another good Thanksgiving outside the U.S.
This is Turkey, over and out.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Lombricultura (aka, Vermiculture)
Today, we added a bed to the garden--a worm bed.
The worms need their own bed in order to produce humus, an organic fertilizer which we will add to our soil in the future. There are many, many, many different models of worm beds to choose from; we opted for the simplest and cheapest option of using an old tire.
We placed it on top of some rocks to ensure the bed will have proper drainage and oxygen from below as well as from above. Then, we created a floor for the bed by making a latticework of sticks and covering it with sacking.
We poked holes in the sacking for drainage/oxygen purposes; we don't want the little wormies to suffocate.
Next comes newspaper, torn into strips.
At this point, we were ready to people our worm bed. (Worm our worm bed?) We've had our worms on hold for the past few weeks, and they've been hanging out in a plastic sheet. But it was time for them to graduate to the tire. So we dumped them into their new abode, with much pomp and circumstance.
Then we threw in some desperdicios from the kitchen - organic waste such as veggie peels and eggshells.
Then came the really fun part: adding water and mixing it all together with your hands.
Desperdicios, soil, newspaper, and all.
Mike is about ready to wash his hands here. Apparently nobody else wanted to get theirs dirty.
There's worms in there, I promise. They're just not very photogenic (i.e., every time I tried to take their portrait, it came out blurry).
Finally, we covered 'em up so it'll be cool and dark and humid - perfect conditions for making humus. Stay tuned in a few weeks for phase two, when we will add another tire on top of the first one and repeat this whole process in a way that encourages the worms to migrate upwards into the newer tire, allowing us to take and use the humus in the original tire.
And now, because you've been so patient and listened to me talk about tires and worms and stuff, shall we all play a game? Who can correctly guess what plant this is?
And this?
And this little guy?
What about this one?
And this?
And, finally, this?
These are all residents of our garden, in different stages of growth. Answers next time - or maybe the time after next, because tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and that means FOOD.
The worms need their own bed in order to produce humus, an organic fertilizer which we will add to our soil in the future. There are many, many, many different models of worm beds to choose from; we opted for the simplest and cheapest option of using an old tire.
We placed it on top of some rocks to ensure the bed will have proper drainage and oxygen from below as well as from above. Then, we created a floor for the bed by making a latticework of sticks and covering it with sacking.
We poked holes in the sacking for drainage/oxygen purposes; we don't want the little wormies to suffocate.
Next comes newspaper, torn into strips.
At this point, we were ready to people our worm bed. (Worm our worm bed?) We've had our worms on hold for the past few weeks, and they've been hanging out in a plastic sheet. But it was time for them to graduate to the tire. So we dumped them into their new abode, with much pomp and circumstance.
Then we threw in some desperdicios from the kitchen - organic waste such as veggie peels and eggshells.
Then came the really fun part: adding water and mixing it all together with your hands.
Desperdicios, soil, newspaper, and all.
Mike is about ready to wash his hands here. Apparently nobody else wanted to get theirs dirty.
There's worms in there, I promise. They're just not very photogenic (i.e., every time I tried to take their portrait, it came out blurry).
Finally, we covered 'em up so it'll be cool and dark and humid - perfect conditions for making humus. Stay tuned in a few weeks for phase two, when we will add another tire on top of the first one and repeat this whole process in a way that encourages the worms to migrate upwards into the newer tire, allowing us to take and use the humus in the original tire.
And now, because you've been so patient and listened to me talk about tires and worms and stuff, shall we all play a game? Who can correctly guess what plant this is?
And this?
And this little guy?
What about this one?
And this?
And, finally, this?
These are all residents of our garden, in different stages of growth. Answers next time - or maybe the time after next, because tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and that means FOOD.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Maicol Jordan Plays Baseball in Guasmo Sur
No, I didn't misspell "Michael Jordan;" I'm not talking about Michael Jordan; I'm talking about Maicol Jordan, one of the kids at the after school program. Guess who he's named after?
Last week, a friend of a friend who happened to be visiting Ecuador asked to lead a baseball workshop with the kids. Be my guest, sir!
Maicol Jordan, who's the sharpest kid on the block, already knew the rules of baseball and was a big help. Most everybody else learned as we went along.
Ángel was the fastest runner. Can't you tell by the gleam in his eye?
For me, the most exciting part of the workshop was seeing the girls step up to bat. In a part of the world where certain sports are identified as being gender specific, baseball invited both boys and girls to participate together because it is not normally played here at all. And the girls totally rose to the occasion.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Guasmo Sur Baseball Team of Awesomeness. Our coach left us with some whiffle balls and bats, so there's nowhere to go from here but to practice!
Last week, a friend of a friend who happened to be visiting Ecuador asked to lead a baseball workshop with the kids. Be my guest, sir!
Maicol Jordan, who's the sharpest kid on the block, already knew the rules of baseball and was a big help. Most everybody else learned as we went along.
Ángel was the fastest runner. Can't you tell by the gleam in his eye?
For me, the most exciting part of the workshop was seeing the girls step up to bat. In a part of the world where certain sports are identified as being gender specific, baseball invited both boys and girls to participate together because it is not normally played here at all. And the girls totally rose to the occasion.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Guasmo Sur Baseball Team of Awesomeness. Our coach left us with some whiffle balls and bats, so there's nowhere to go from here but to practice!
Monday, November 21, 2011
Today in List Form
1. Laundry. Here is one example of why I love living in the big city with pretty much any amenity at my disposal - what we call "Posh Corps." I have the option of dropping my laundry off to be washed and/or dried versus having to expend the time and energy on washing my clothes by hand. Today I got my sheets, towels, some T-shirts and other sundries done for a little over $3. Yippee-kai-ay!
2. Cleaning. I'm hosting Thanksgiving this year, and suddenly the cleaning bug bit me and I've started rearranging furniture and things. Yikes.
Will it all be ready in time for Thursday? I know you'll wait with bated breath to find out.
3. Mail call. A package arrived with a plastic bag and instructions on how to prepare a Thanksgiving turkey (thanks, Mom & Mrs. Smith!). This will be my first foray into Thanksgiving-Turkey-Land. Wish me luck.
4. Crafts. Yes, I had a sitdown crafts session the likes of which you haven't SEEN since your kindergarten days, I guarantee it. I learned and practiced making various types of recycled art, using mostly magazine pages, chip bags, and plastic bags. We'll use these activities with both the women's jewelry making group (per my previous post) and also in the coming months for a vacation camp with kids.
5. Since I have the necessary tools, I went ahead and bought me a frozen turkey. According to the packaging, his name is Mr. Pavo. In English this means "Mr. Turkey." It's not a very original name, and we're going to ignore the fact that all the other turkeys in the frozen section of the grocery store (ahem, Posh Corps, ahem) were also named Mr. Pavo; my Mr. Pavo and I have a very personal connection. As soon as I saw him sitting there behind the glass door with his $40 price tag, I knew he belonged to me. So I brought him home.
I think he looks like a Juan, don't you agree? Juan Pavo, welcome to my freezer. We'll see you again on Thursday.
6. I ran. I ran so far away--I couldn't get away. Away from my foot cramp. Then I came home and bought six bananas. The End.
7. Marcelo and Andrés told me stories about all the ferocious wild animals - such as armadillos - they saw on their recent family vacation. Then Marcelo tried to make me watch a horror movie with him, and I ran so far away, again.
Tomorrow: more Thanksgiving preparations and a lesson on making tire gardens.
2. Cleaning. I'm hosting Thanksgiving this year, and suddenly the cleaning bug bit me and I've started rearranging furniture and things. Yikes.
Will it all be ready in time for Thursday? I know you'll wait with bated breath to find out.
3. Mail call. A package arrived with a plastic bag and instructions on how to prepare a Thanksgiving turkey (thanks, Mom & Mrs. Smith!). This will be my first foray into Thanksgiving-Turkey-Land. Wish me luck.
4. Crafts. Yes, I had a sitdown crafts session the likes of which you haven't SEEN since your kindergarten days, I guarantee it. I learned and practiced making various types of recycled art, using mostly magazine pages, chip bags, and plastic bags. We'll use these activities with both the women's jewelry making group (per my previous post) and also in the coming months for a vacation camp with kids.
5. Since I have the necessary tools, I went ahead and bought me a frozen turkey. According to the packaging, his name is Mr. Pavo. In English this means "Mr. Turkey." It's not a very original name, and we're going to ignore the fact that all the other turkeys in the frozen section of the grocery store (ahem, Posh Corps, ahem) were also named Mr. Pavo; my Mr. Pavo and I have a very personal connection. As soon as I saw him sitting there behind the glass door with his $40 price tag, I knew he belonged to me. So I brought him home.
I think he looks like a Juan, don't you agree? Juan Pavo, welcome to my freezer. We'll see you again on Thursday.
6. I ran. I ran so far away--I couldn't get away. Away from my foot cramp. Then I came home and bought six bananas. The End.
7. Marcelo and Andrés told me stories about all the ferocious wild animals - such as armadillos - they saw on their recent family vacation. Then Marcelo tried to make me watch a horror movie with him, and I ran so far away, again.
Tomorrow: more Thanksgiving preparations and a lesson on making tire gardens.
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