Strawbelly…

In J’s cameo as a spring chick a Christening involving fresh strawberry based desserts was necessary. Let’s face it, fresh, in-season, juicy strawberries in November!? I had little choice. (this also goes to explaining back to back dessert entries… )

For all you folks chilling out in Autumn leaves, this is only to inspire your travel bug and to duly note the loveliness of spring down here. Come December… I’m going to need all the reminders I can get of the plus sides of living on the flipped side.

That’s right there are a *kilo of strawberries on this pizza (*almost a kilo….)

Feliz Cumpleanos Che J!

Hi all! That's right, today is a very special day down here in BsAs as it is a big day for J!!

Mr. November is having his first Spring birthday! Last night USC (J's team) played Colorado and our friend M surprised us all by bringing by a birthday cake. Around midnight with Bellinis (the brunch drink of choice in Buenos Aires - Peach juice and Champagne) and Dulce de Leche infused Dulce de Leche (something like caramel and so culturally relevant it puts Tango to shame and I dare say rivals football/soccer - though I would never dream of asking someone to choose between the two).

Now as for this cake - yes, Mummsie, those are lady fingers covered in cream and DDL and more cream and more lady fingers topped with DDL and Alfajores (the national cookie - basically a cookie sandwich stuffed with DDL, and then, like the ones featured here, can be dipped in dark or white chocolate. Recommend trying with stout drink of choice, espresso is mine.)

Well I'm going to get back to sitting on the patio, enjoying a beautiful spring morning in November... birds a chirping, flowers a bloom'n, allergies a plague'n and the occasional horn a honk'n. Bit of leftover Chinese and, of course, a slice of that birthday cake :)

Snapshot

So, since I’ve been quite MIA since arriving to beautiful South America here’s a quick snippet…

My morning commute: Wakeup early – walk the 45 minutes in (almost never happens). Running really late – taxi. Running a little late – quick “Hola, buen dia” to my portero, and to every other portero between my building and the Subte (subway) stop – they’re all out washing off the sidewalks in the mornings. This is a tradeoff, with the over embodiment of the title of the ‘Paris of South America’ and every household having at least one dog with no “scoop” laws… one walks at one’s own peril, really being a pedestrian here is quite taxing at first… 1) listening to all the security information, one must keep a tight hold on one’s purse/bag/etc.; 2) one must also pay attention as to not get run over (though I’ve seen scarier traffic situations, India and Vietnam namely), the machismo of many drivers here equals their routinely speeding up when they see a soul crossing the street.. no bueno; 3) one must enjoy taking in the view of the new place, the architecture, the people, etc. AND; 4)make it to work without ruining one’s morning

with one foul step… So the tradeoff with the sidewalk washing porteros is that many sidewalks have loose tiles, and I have a special knack for innocently finding these, shooting the water lurking below either all over my other leg or all over whoever happens to be with five feet of me… so far J has taken the brunt of th

is little talent.

So, I make it to the Subte, on a good day I simply enter the train, other, less fortunate days the sardine effect ta

kes hold. Luckily I’m only onboard for four stops. So then I get a little morning walk in, though I made a very friendly friend on the other side of the road I’ve taken to commuting on the Zoo side. This involves the occasional peak at the flamingos, (on the downside) some elephant sized odors.., some unidentifiab

le squawking, or, if I’m really lucky… a capybara spotting! Soooo exciting! [the extent of excitement

due, in large part, to childhood favorite, Bill Peet’s Capybobby]

Being that the aforementioned account was inspired by my colleague’s morning… he takes the train, this morning he missed the first train, but caught the next. Then his train came to a halt between stops… hmmm. Then the power w

ent out on his train, so then his train started getting hot - full of people, morning sun warming up, with no air. So, after waiting for 40 minutes he pried the door open. Then his fellow passengers started jumping out. So then he eventually jumped out too. They walked up the track. They saw a train, but it was going the other way. So then he waited back at the platform, but no other trains came. So then he had some luck, he got a cab during rush hour. However, all the street lights were out on the main avenue. So, after paying double the normal fare he’s now at work. Happy Tuesday to him.

Key

So my regular porter (security-ish, doorman-esque, receptionist-y) is on vacation. Apparently much of the city is still on summer break. Yes, that’s right. I went from snow and inhumanely cold wind to the end of summer, where without this perfect cross breeze I think I might get a little too warm. Speaking of this cross breeze, LOVE my new place! I can’t tell you how key it is to be able to move into my digs directly. So nice.

It was great, my colleague that met me at the airport came with me to show me around my apartment. She brought out a wad of keys. “Are those really the keys?” I asked. “Yeah.” (Harry Potter fans, do you remember the flying keys in the Chamber of Secrets? My mum calls these skeleton keys.) The locks on my apartment use skeleton keys. This was very exciting, seemed castle like to me. Then I tried to use them for the first time, and the second time, and.. and I realized why this particular style has mostly gone the way of the 8-track.. So we took the elevator up to floor 5 where we were sorta still half jammed in the elevator with my luggage. “Don’t we need to go down the hallway first?” I asked. “Nope, this is it.” I didn’t understand. Yes, you see, this awesome cross breeze is possible because my place IS the 5th floor! At times it takes a bit of explaining to the delivery guys, but it is manageable trade off. And yes, as promised, there’s a guestroom :)

Round II

I plopped down in my window seat; the man sitting next to me asked if I can sleep on planes, “Usually I do alright.” (it was about 10:30pm, I’d pushed through the last week, and managed to fit all my stuff in my bags without the zippers splitting and now, now I was sitting down. Mmm, rest. At last.) I remember waking for takeoff, it’s my favorite part. I woke for my dinner snack. And then I woke for my breakfast snack and then we landed. (11 hr flight, so I think that means I got about through about four REM cycles – it was awesome!) During breakfast the guy next to me was a bit incredulous, apparently every time he looked over I was snoozing. Always amazing where just a couple hours can take you. :)

So just like that I’d landed, made my way through customs, found my bags and the people waiting for me. Apparently there have been a number of demonstrations staged on the “free”way to the airport lately. I think it has to do with an affordable housing issue, though I’m not sure. Anyhoo, the demonstrators decided that a beautiful blue bird Thursday around lunch time was a good time for them to stand (in the middle of the street) for their cause. Consequently traffic was very backed up. So though just before we landed I was noting how US-esque the suburbia grid/pools in backyards looked we were sitting in a normal feeling traffic jam. Then the driver pulled off the freeway onto the grassy field next to the road, joining a herd of about 10 other vehicles, where we sped along at about 20 or 30 mph until the grass was about to turn into trees, at which point we simply forced our way back in-between the cars sitting in traffic. Hehehe ahh, welcome to Argentina! This is going to be fun.

Pre-game

Sigh… made it! (barely..) Being that “I’ve done all this before” has apparently made me arrogant. All the planning ahead really did payoff. (I mean shoot, I got to spend my last weekend in DC with Mateo and my SUPER sis in-law!) However, there are ALWAYS things that come up. First gold star goes to my buddy ShMc as she not only patiently waited for me as I finished packing (thus leaving for the airport to catch my international flight an hour and a half later that I should have been), shipped the extra boxes I ended up with but also gave me a ride to the airport just as it decided to start snowing..

Though I arrived to the airport I still needed to drop the cell phone I’d been borrowing from my mum in the mail, unfortunately the drop box was on the far end of the terminal and my flight was supposed to be boarding in 20 minutes. So I checked in, which took roughly forever, got hammered with a $200 overweight fee on my bag (boo hiss) and then started trekking for this rumored mailbox. Second gold star goes to the nice police officer I asked for further directions that directed me towards the decently short security line and offered to drop the package off for me! (I strongly recommend giving the public servants in your life, foreign or domestic ;) a hug.) I ended up making it to my gate about 8 minutes before boarding, since it was running a couple minutes late. So when I came back from the loo I noticed that my gate, heading to BA, was directly across the hall from the gate departing for Accra, Ghana (if you’re looking at a map, Ghana is sitting just to the right of Cote d’Ivoire). So I looked around just in case I recognized anyone. Sure enough, a guy I knew from work was sitting there waiting to head back. It was great to have a chance to catch up (especially given all the excitement back in CdI since I’ve left.) I may have “done this all before” but sometimes it’s still a little scary, good to be reminded it’s a small world after all.

Mini update

Which reminds me ~ my first zip car day? Lovely. Exhausting, but productive. If you know me well you also know that I enjoy a good list, and enjoy even more the zing of accomplishment that comes with taking my pen and striking things off a good list. Ahhh. So Minicucci (Zip cars have names apparently) and I had a sun filled day of wandering around Northern Virginny. I lived it up, pushing the limits of a certain yuppie stereo type I’ve come to know. In my mind this person hithers from San Francisco/Sonoma/Seattle/Portland. They drive a mini, but test drove a Prius and a Vespa just for good measure. They shop at Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, but buy their bread from the local all organic specialty bakery, which they walk to on Saturday mornings with their pooch. If they knew how to knit they would make their own gloves, but instead they support free range fair trade alpacas raised in the foothills of the Andes by using their mighty dollar on the hats/scarves/gloves from the vendor at the local Farmers’ Market. (not sure why I’m on this tangent…) anyhow, it was fun for the day. I smiled to my fellow Mini drivers; they’d give me a friendly honk. People at stop lights would roll down their windows to talk to me. Then again I knew it was destined to be a great day when I pressed the ignition button and “low ri-derrr” was playing.

So I’m on week three here – is that possible? Wow. It’s going well. Things I’ve learned – Spanish pronunciation es stupendo! It is taking a bit of getting used to, as occasionally I unintentionally French it by dropping the last letter (or two or three or four..). Someone has finally explained the phenomenon of the Latin American last name, better yet – I think I understand!! And, I am coming to terms with the fact that Spanish films compete with French films when it comes to sad endings… I’ll have to plan accordingly, make sure I have a Happily Ever After All-American chaser for next time.

And just in case anybody has connections, please notify whomever it is that needs to know that it’s fall, therefore it can stop being hot. Muchas Gracias.

Top 10 reasons Latinoamericanos no les gustan Los Estados Unidos

** Por favor, note that this is not a list of reasons Latin Americans don’t like the people from the US. However, one way to instantly hit a sharp note is by referring to oneself as an “American” – better to go with norteamericano/a (North American, which technically encompasses Canada and Mexico as well) or estadounidense (if your tongue can handle it..) And though it goes without saying, this is by no means an exhaustive list, nor am I an authority on such things as the history of US/Latin American relations, but I hope it makes for a good jumping point as I often find my public education, or rather my memory, somewhat lacking.

#1 Monroe Doctorine (1823) Americans for America aka

Dear Europe,

Get out of our hemisphere.

With Love and Bravado,

your rebellious former colony US of A

Now this little move could be interpreted in two ways. 1) Gallant, protective, well meaning. The independent colony of the United States wanted to give its support to their newly/still working at independence in some places neighbors to the south. Plus, the rambunctious young US was also telling European crowns that they were not going to rule the whole world, at least not this hemisphere. 2) Scheming, glint of expansion in the eyes, with a need to prove themselves on an international level alongside the European monarchs. Now you may have guessed that the second interpretation is the prevailing perception in the Latin American point of view, and some say that perception is reality. Annnd, looking at amap of the US in 1823 there are some BIG differences, which leads to…

#2 The Mexican American War breaks out in 1845 resulting from Texas, an annexed state of Mexico, joining the US. When it’s all said an done, the US gets/takes half of the Mexican territory.. Texas, California (where gold is discovered the year after..), Nevada, Utah and parts of Colorado, Arizona, Oklahoma, New Mexico and Wyoming – the Rio Grande becomes the US Mexico border. (Something called Manifest Destiny hits the headlines, which also doesn’t do much for the argument against assumed expansionist aspirations.)

#3 Spanish American War (1898) breaks out after the battleship USS Maine sinks in Cuba under unknown circumstances. There had been on again off again revolts in Cuba against the Spanish colonial power for a few decades. With the sinking of Maine the US became directly involved. Resulting in the US gaining Cuba (who opted to regain independence with the Platt Amendment caveat – which said the US reserved the right to send in troops to ensure stability, which happened on three occasions), Puerto Rico (even today is given the option of independence, but with around 3% support in the polls remains a US Commonwealth), the Philippines (who opted for independence) and Guam (an unincorporated territory of the US)...In case you’ve been wondering just when all this territory stuff came in to play and landed us with a couple more quarters over our 50 star collection.

#4 Panama Canal (1904 – 1914 and beyond) The US assists Panama with their independence from Columbia in exchange for the Canal.

#5 Roosevelt Corollary (1904) extension of the Monroe Doctrine (please see above) that basically says if/when parts of Latin America (specifically the Caribbean islands and Central America) default on loans from Europe the US will step in.

#6 Pancho Villa (1916)

#7 Roosevelt’s Good Neighbor Policy (1933) state’s the US won’t intervene – fine, we’ll get out of your business. This is followed by a wave of authoritarian governments and militaries becoming involved/ruling through coup d’états throughout much of Latin America, while the US and Europe are focused on WWII.

“He’s an SOB, but he’s our SOB.” – Roosevelt

During this time US is then blamed for NOT getting involved.

#8 The Cold War takes main stage and the pendulum of US involvement swings back as the CIA enters the scene. Guatemala in 1954. Then Cuba…. Castro and the revolutionaries, including world renowned Che Guevara, take power in 1959. As new Cuban government aligned with the Soviets things went from to bad to super duper bad with the Bay of Pigs in 1961. More Cold War, soviet hunting leads to US intervention in the Dominican Republic (1965).

* 1967 in Punte del Este, Uruguay at a meeting of the leaders of the America half are wearing military uniforms.

#8 Carter creates the Bureau of Human Rights (1979) thus creating the annual Human Rights Report on each country in the world. Latin America is somewhat split as some wonder who made the US the judge/ who is going to report on the US and those with more leftist leanings living under military juntas and dictatorships.

#9 1990’s Plan Columbia is rolled out under Bush Sr. and continued under Clinton - $1 Billion to fight FARC

* 1994 Clinton hosts the Summit of Americas in Miami, FL – all 34 are elected leaders, 2 are wearing skirts.

#10 2000’s Iraq war is NOT popular and prison photos don’t help… (see Carter’s Human Right’s Report above)

Well hello there!

Haven’t seen you in a while… Welcome to DC! Working on getting my sea legs here after a whirlwind month spent dashing around the w/best coast with some of my favorite people on earth (I’ll get some back logging in shortly if you’re interested in hitting the archives.. pictures might be involved.. just thought I’d mention that :)

So yeah, DC, it’s still here. Cooled off a bit for me, which I oh so appreciate. Yesterday was a ‘lug the basics the mile back from the grocery store’ day so I could say, shower upon my return. One backpack, and two totes later (with my ol’ faithful Skagit Valley Food Co-op tote strap breaking.. this may have been out of protest as it was while I was at a hair shop buying hairspray, in an aerosol can, after supporting California organic farmers at Whole Foods… ode to vanity in the day of the zero carbon footprint.. go ahead, judge me.) I signed up for something called ZipCar . It really was a lovely walk, and as inspirational as all the heavy lifting ladies of Cote d’Ivoire were, lugging everything from lunch to the weeks wood pile balanced on top, well… sometimes this California girl could just really use a car. The sign that buying into this 21^st century car sharing thing was the right move? A couple Mini's “live” in my neighborhood [insert devious laughter].

So, yes, that was yesterday. Made absolutely no effort to conform to my local time zone, that was/is today’s goal. In an effort to accomplish this goal I signed up for a yoga class at a local studio a friend in Cd’I had heard of. Now, though I’ve enjoyed yoga/must cling to it lest my desk job somehow manage to successfully break my back leaving me wishing I were dead… (yeah, that totally sucked) this was my first experience at an actual studio… now there’s different kinds of yoga classes. There’s the gym version that can sometimes sorta look and feel like a toned down aerobics’ class, the difference being the instructors outfit not involving an unfortunate 80’s unitard look, God help us.. Then there’s the incense, soul-searching, breath through your nose, during this resting pose focus on touching your foot to the back of your head, Ommmmm class.. so this mornings hour and a half was closer to the Ommm class. Oh, yes, I did in fact say hour AND a half. My entire body feels like that unfortunate had-it-coming-to-him senator on X-men who turns to that gelatinous liquid. This is post nap on the couch.

Now, if you’d rather be hearing about epic tales involving deep dark West Africa, AK-47s, crocodiles that would make Captain Hook wish he could fly, well, you’ll simply have to wait. I’m not finished with this morning. The hard wood floors of this studio in Georgetown had enough room for 60 yoga mats, how do I know this, because there was approximately an inch between the tape demarking each spot. Completely full. I was, happily/decidedly not getting claustrophobic, up against the far wall. The instructor, the saving grace being that we share a common name, had the perfect balance of encouraging guiding voice, but her sadistic smile, well it did not escape my grounded, [deep inhale] open, tranquil [exhale] pretzeled notice. Though I may not have been able to touch the back of my own head I did manage to place my foot on the head of the lady in front of me… and for the others in my near proximity, well I believe I added an extra element to their practice as I Feng Shui’d the room, pristine beth sweat flowing from my brow.

With that, love to you all! Have a great Labor Day!

Sightings

As I've been hanging in this hemisphere for almost 2 years now occasionally I notice my desensitization - many things that would have, at one time, seemed jarring, out of place, bizarre, go by all but unnoticed. These accounts managed to make it through.

You know those inspirational posters that have a rock climber dangling off the side of a cliff with “success” or something written below – well I would name this picture “in spite of” or “never gonna die”. Alas… camera battery was dead. But please, close your eyes and picture one of those flat front semi trucks, pulling a flat bed. Now picture the cab of this semi after its been crushed, possibly from an unfortunate turn around a mountain corner with an embankment that it ended up sliding down, leaving the cab more of a diamond shape as the side windows are crushed, doors blown out. Roof, obviously, dented in. A bit rusted with the exposed metal in this humid environment. Naked because normal metal hood, doors no longer fits to new shaped cab. Then imagine three Ivorian guys, driver leaning out the ‘doorway’ to see, since visibility is near impossible through the shattered windshield, driving down the freeway. Impressive.

So second in the poster collection would be – last Saturday a friend and I head across the bridge to meet up with some friends, it’s about 2200. So, it’s dark, occasional though somewhat rare, orange street lamps shed some light. (the country is still existing with major power outages as there are still significant power shortages.) I’m driving, and on the frontage road I just happen to glance over to see a guy with in-line skates on (I haven’t seen a single person with skates, in-line skates, a skateboard since I’ve been here. Poverty, pot holes and/or a lack of supply – likely all three.) So he’s set up coke bottles (yes in the developing world you get your soda in refillable bottles) that he’s using as cones to practice weaving in and out. I believe this one would be called “Dream” or maybe “Dedication”.

Birthday under the trees

Day(+) well spent.

Lunch with ‘the girls’ at my favorite lunch joint Phoenician (Lebanese esque cuisine). Shocking to few who know my top five favorite flavors… these place has the super power of leaving one with an aura of garlic for at least the next 24 hours.

Bunch of friends and colleagues got together for dinner at the boat arena. Outside, under a canopy tree. Moon occasionally visible. Bats squeaking around. GIANT gambas (aka shrimp), yum. A couple newcomers, just starting their Abidjan adventure, but for the most part it was us old timers, hearing the clock tick on a chapter that will soon close out.

This, of course, was followed by fun times at our favorite Spanish bar where a friend, JMB, was playing.

Like I told mums, I got waves of birthday love as the world woke up – pretty freak’n awesome :) thanks all!

Unsavory details

Attention: If you are not of a particularly strong constitution and/or do not frequently find the natural release of odiferous bio mass amusing (as I often do not) fair thee warning in reading the following, likely unnecessary, lines – I will do my utmost to spare thee of the most unpleasant particulars of today.

After a lovely three day weekend of bliss I began my decent back to work yesterday morning when a familiar looming rumble arose from my very gut… the outcome of which is hardly a mystery after two of my colleagues recently returned from a similar affront to their well being. Known by many a name no traveler escapes the affects of this most unfortunate occurrence.

After retreating to my abode, determined to escape the destiny of the storm within, I willfully slept to my betterment. Yet as I listlessly walked the halls, I was left overly rested, still suffering from the seemingly unavoidable symptoms. I decided to finally pick up a book my friend LQ had leant me sometime ago. It seemed just the right measure of familiarity and lightheartedness for my delirium. While making an effort to enjoy a fresh chocolate chip cookie, classic music piping ambiance into my living room, no less than three quarters through Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, a recent best-seller, I realized with dastardly decorum that the day’s delight was divinely destined. While sparing you unsavory details, I assure you, there is no condition better suited to enjoy the fullness of Jane Austen avec zombies than while sipping tea and calculating the amount of time it will take to run to the loo. So with that, adieu – according to my relations I have yet another day before vanquishing this demon in its entirety.

Going Pro?

Ooooh mais la…. So I believe it was Wednesday when I received a text from my Brazilian capoeira instructor friend, Mc. (the following is a loose translation) ‘Volleyball this weekend?’ 'Sure, sounds good to me.’ She’d been talking about a beach VB tourney that happens once a month so I had assumed that is what she was referencing. It seemed slightly bizarre that I should need to bring two photos and a copy of my national ID, but hey, who knows? The next text didn’t go quite as well… I made out the part in French, but got to a couple key words and was at a loss. Google translator was also no help. I asked my colleague, being the resourceful person that he is he then called our intern instantly ‘it means jersey, like a team jersey for sports, but it’s Jula’ (in the top 10 most spoken tribal languages around these parts). Great… so now my Portuguese speaking friend, who’s learning French (better than myself) though with a thick Portuguese accent, is slipping in the occasional only slightly obscure local lingo..

After what seemed to be an overly complicated arrangement of getting my documents to an Ivorian friend of Mc, M. Isaac, we were finally able to meet this morning at the Snackorama (the best conserved 70’s relic I’ve seen to date – left over from the glory days it was originally a bowling alley with an ice skating rink?? Billiards and, of course, a snack bar (restaurant really) where they serve cheval burgers (this translates as horse burger… I’ve been assured this is somehow not actually horse, but just what it’s called, which is not always the case with rat burgers…) I digress.

So Mc and a friend of hers from Belgium and I arrive to a sports complex at which point the friend from Belgium and I are taken to a side room and given official cards (sorta like a license to play) at which point we sign the freshly made documents and receive a medical clearance stamped and official. There is a certain expedience to rules being mere talk, at least when you’re on the benefiting side and/or you are considered above the law.

We are then taken past a couple tennis courts, between a worn down basketball court and a well kept soccer field to two outdoor VB courts. We are handed jerseys and (much to my chagrin white jersey shorts, the shiny kind I wore for basketball when I was in 5^th grade…the kind that never fit, the kind one should not be wearing striped underwear with…) So here we are. Apparently Belgium and I are now a part of one of the 8 national women’s volleyball teams (Mc is out with a bad elbow). The games are every Saturday and there are three practices a week (which, unfortunately, due to work I can not make but one).

But please I would like to return to this experience yet again, in case a couple facts were not duly noted. 1) I haven’t played competitive VB since I was 16. 2) I haven’t played outdoor court VB since I was 12. 3) though I am learning French and have played some VB since arriving, it has actually been with other English players and Brazilians just for fun, so my VB lingo when not English is Portuguese…not particularly helpful with this team. 4) I returned from California last week, and while it was lovely it is also winter there. The equatorial sun is especially special when one’s match starts at 1300… by game two I was sucking wind, not a lot of rotations given we have only 7 players, but hey, lots of play time! Oh yeah, play to 25, best 3 out of 5 - Mon Dieu!. Lost the first 2… so yes, we played all 5 games… this explains my lovely dehydrated sun induced headache. But hey, just another adventure. And somehow the guys in the stands knew I was American… maybe they read between the lines…

Harrowing halloween

okay, not really.. friends just passed on some pix - they managed to snap a shot of the superhero's better halves (featuring Harlequin, Cat Woman, Wonder Woman, and Storm)

Halloween is definitely a holiday that needs translating... but most everybody did a great job - my favorite, the guy that came as bubble gum stuck to a flip flop (though I'm not

promoting tobacco somehow the pose with the cigarette adds that extra something special... :)

My country ‘tis of thee

The other side of the “favorite” question was "what are the things you dislike the most there?" I must confess I am unwilling to answer this question as it is asked. It is different, and it is not always easy, but that was never the point. So instead I will share a few of the things I love about the U.S.

#1 mosquito abatement – thanks to a parade I attended in Cutler,

I think it was, I will forever cherish the image of a mosquito abatement float alongside the Lincoln Memorial and the Bay Bridge;

#2 The general public’s ability to queue – one gold star to our public school system and the loathsome lunch line;

#3 Waste management/fully functioning sewer system - 'nuf said;

#4 front yards – I had never really considered the amount of resources that go toward keeping up public space/publicly visible space, or maybe I never really appreciated the benefit of keeping up appearances, but hey thumbs up;

#5 sidewalks – and the general public's understanding of how they are utilized;

#6 that it is considered reasonable to assume things will and should work;

#7 quality control – it would not come as a surprise if at some point in life I break into song with an ode to dear sweet quality control…

** picture taken from my phone while driving - not advisable, but I always see the best of the unexpected while driving, note the heads sticking up in the back of the dump truck in the pouring rain (as in pouring like Alabama) mind you. That's dedication to carpooling right there..

en peu Q & A

While I was home I was asked tons of questions, something I found very helpful. As you well know many things in life are relative – a sense of normalcy being one. So, now that I’ve acclimated a bit, the benefits of which I am enjoying, I found these questions to be a missing piece of the puzzle. A helpful reminder of where I started from. Though I must refer back to Hemingway’s take, one should “never write about a place until you’re away from it, because that gives you perspective.” The full answers to the questions lie somewhere ahead, when time and space allow me to reflect with the convenience of hindsight, with the benefit of bookends to this experience.

So with these questions in mind, along with the passing of a couple of days, and more importantly, a couple of nights of rest let me begin to answer what I can.

You asked: what are your favorite things about the country?

Today I will share a few of my favorite sounds here. In the early morning, if I lie in bed (and don’t fall back asleep…) I can hear the soldiers singing in cadence as they run in formation – a reminder of the very active domestic roll the military has here. I am reminded of our military in Afghanistan and Iraq. I wonder if nationwide we don’t suffer from a certain amount of ‘out of sight out of mind’. I am reminded of the inherent discipline required and assumed of soldiers. I wonder how different the morning rituals are for the Force Nouvelle (the rebel force in the North). I am reminded of the great potential and strength mankind contains when unified by single mindedness. I am reminded that the same sacrifice is asked of every soldier regardless of the year or the country they belong to.

Sometimes during those same early hours I can hear the church bells ring at St John’s – a reminder that just like stars, there are things around us that we simply fail to notice during the bustle of the day, but they’re there regardless of our recognition or pause.

Though I cannot explain how the human ear can differentiate between the slight buzz of say bugs and a crowd of cheering football fans (or soccer fans as it were) through my attention focused on the last 100 pages of my book, a thick cement wall, and a couple of miles – regardless there is a tangible energy to the hollers of these elated fans. The tide of cheering comes in and out, giving me an appreciation for the aptly named “wave” and taking me back to the bright lights, perfect green pitch and electricity in the air at the Manchester game Big Brother and I attended in the spring. Also reminded me that attending a match here in Abidjan is on my list, and though time seems to stand still and speed along all at once (which I blame on the equator..) I am certain, with a tinge of sadness really, that the next 6 – 8 months will pass quickly.

Attitude Adjustment

So, though I was only in the states for the weekend I did not arrive back to Abidjan with quite the same sense of anticipation I had the first time around. I will go light with the details, because I am certain that a shower and a nap will help. However, I am also not so delusional to believe that my depleted tolerance is to be written off solely as the plight of a weary traveler.

At last…

Yes, at last, after almost a year and a half I set foot on not only American soil but inhaled the sweet air of my golden state. Apparently the poetic patriotism of my Brazilian buddies may be rubbing off on me, regardless it was great to be home. I have always always insisted that home, for me, is determined by who I’m with rather than where I’m at – not necessarily profound, but absolutely true. So with that, home started in LA, got to see Big Brother’s loft in the Art’s district – über cool. (He always does his best to salvage my disdain for that growing swath of cement, being that he knows me rather well, he has made great progress in rounding out my basic opinion – which I must admit, in all honesty I’m not much for big cities, so it’s a hard sell.) We, along with mums and jb, celebrated his birthday by ta

king advantage of one of the greatest strengths of said region, culturally diverse cuisine (with the added benefit of US quality ingredients) – Ethiopian, Yum. Of course mums and I managed to squeeze in wonderfully relaxing facials (perfect after my flights) and a little time at a classic cultural necessity – The Grove, a bona-fide SoCal mall, and though in the past just the word “mall” was slightly repulsive, I will not argue, I found it alarmingly lovely, basking it the wonder of fulfilled expectations. Slightly chilly evening air, appetizing smells of dinners being prepared at a variety of restaurants, people roaming about, the Christmas tree being set up in the center pavilion, all of which is novel to the me that is currently living in West Africa.

The next morning I tried on my brides maid’s dress, which being strapless and the wedding being the next day.. promptly fell..off. Sooo, luckily mums is a gifted seamstress, lest I’m afraid the story of Sis’s beautiful wedding might have gone a bit differently..

As we zipped up I-5 I soaked in the gorgeous sunny California day. It was a tightly scheduled wiz bang weekend. The wedding went off without a glitch and voila Heather is now officially hitched.

With my newly reformed bridesmaid’s dress/compression gown I managed to make it back down the isle, aerating the lawn with cute though impossible heels, channeling new found strength at the sight of the Mariachi band striking up. A number of items on my “must” list were conveniently checked off when Mexican food was served up for dinner. At last – that is the Mexican food I’m talking about when I’m whining about not having Mexican. It was beautiful; cool fall air, autumn leaves, trees strung with lights glittering across the yard, dancing, music, and a hefty dose of love. Congratulations Mr and Mrs :)

The next day the boys and I proceeded up 99 to Fresno, hit Costco and Whole Foods on our way home. (Yes, I did almost tear up in the frozen food section of Costco, as I was walking around, arms filled with as much as I could possible hold, looking for the boys, an old man with a twinkle in his eye did mention that they have carts… I am confident my face had the same glow they are referencing when they speak of a kid in a candy shop – I had been asked about reverse cultural shock a few times at the wedding, but I didn’t have time for that – 2 days of flying, 8 hour time change and never staying in the same place for over a day, well, I was just enjoying the ride.) That evening I banished my exhaustion and enjoyed a wonderful time with friends, much missed and time far too short, but so well spent.

The next day I attacked the shopping list while jb ensured that I checked off as many items on my ‘foods I miss’ list – sharing absolutely required for successfully enjoying berries/granola/yogurt; Starbucks; California sushi; Costco dog (don’t judge); spinach/artichoke dip; corn chowder; onion soup; walnut/cranberry/blue cheese chopped salad – it was a full day. Both my bags were packed to the max. Two extra boxes to be shipped.

I returned back to C d’I, full of yummy food, caught up on just about every film that Air France had to offer and high on family and friends. A good trip.

The Itch

For those who love to travel, you know what ‘the itch’ is, maybe you’re even unknown-adventure junkies, hmmhm, I wouldn’t know anything about that. For those that would rather never leave home and consider driving to the next town over a trip... well, I would encourage you to make the leap at least once, though it may go against everything in you, physically travel beyond your comfort zone, just once. It doesn't have to be to the “ends of the earth,” only truly to the unknown. It may be unnerving and feel reminiscent of taking one of those giant horse pills, but please, I’m just asking you to take this step once. If it helps, just on the other side of the unknown you can return home, lock your door, close your blinds and continue on your known, familiar way.

When and wherever you take this step please report back – maybe you’ll have a story or two to tell, maybe your love of home will simply be underlined.

For my fellow leapers, at some point I had made the small assumption that my current situation would scratch the itch if you will. In hindsight (knowing the little I do about the flags of addiction..) I’ve found myself bemoaning my neeeed to go. Ticking off the months since my last flight.. (From my current geological coordinates flights seem to dog-ear my ‘hits’; random road trips are rather limited given the political climate.) So even though, if one was to take a glance at my history, it would be apparent that the last year has dealt me no shortage of novelty and adventure of the unknown I am left to believe that there is a compound effect, the obvious being the momentum from one trip leaves you ready for the next, the other being some type of personality contagion. Yes, you see this little world I’m in is filled to the brim with other leapers. Some are searching for themselves, others remind me of a line in a song by Nickel Creek’s Chris Thile (stolen from a poem by JRR Tolkien’s The Fellowship of the Ring) – Not all who wander are lost.

Paris – check; Paris of Africa – check…; Paris of Latin America – really?

Who knew that I’d be chasing down all the “Paris’” of the world and does this mean that I will undoubtedly have to visit Paris, Ohio someday? (to my knowledge no one is calling it the Paris of North America regardless of its given name, so maybe I’m in the clear)

Well, it’s official, Argentina can wipe its tears, Eva may have left but I’m a comin’ Whoo Hoo!

With 48 barrios (different neighborhoods) and over 13 million inhabitants, well, it should make for a great challenge. With a quick plucking of internet information I’m left knowing that going from Ca to BA is one thing, transitioning from Abidjan to BA will be quite another. According to Wiki ‘In a survey by the travel and tourism publication Travel + Leisure Magazine in 2008, travelers voted Buenos Aires the second most desirable city to visit after Florence, Italy.’ (my “to do and see list” is already over a page… :))) Cote d’Ivoire wasn’t on Travel + Leisure’s list – yet it landed seat #8 on the Foreign Policy 2008 Failed State Index Foreign Policy 2008 Failed State Index (Notably beat out by places like Somalia, Iraq, Afghanistan, among others). However it does seems there may be some special similarities – namely, ‘Buenos Aires was affected for several years by an acute coin shortage that impacted the economy, banking, and transportation. Coins are still rationed by banks, and a thriving black market has been hoarding to sell coins illegally to retailers. Merchants have been rounding prices up or down according to the amount of change a customer actually has, or bartering, and making up the difference with a menial item. (In Cd’I this means I’ve ended up with a rather large match box collection from the grocery store, at least at the produce market I just get some free papayas.)

But not to worry, for those of you who have been dying to come to West Africa, you’ve still got time – though you’ll have to scratch Conakry and Timbuktu off your list for now.. sorry, I know.. maybe next time.