Thursday, May 27, 2010

The best five dollars I've ever spent


I have recently fielded some complaints from other Peace Corps Volunteers about the cleanliness of my bathroom - the toilet seat, in particular.

Now, this is something I take very seriously. Some of them wouldn't even sit down to do to the bathroom.

I am a firm believer that there is a direct correlation between how comfortable one is with their toilet and their overall disposition. If one has a reliable, clean toilet, they will be calmer and generally more productive. But if something is awry with one's toilet, it can dramatically affect their lives.

A case study:

During my first three months at site, I was not very comfortable. I attribute most of this to the state of the bathroom at my host family's house. First off, I had to walk through my host parent's bedroom to go to the bathroom - meaning that the bathroom was essentially closed from 10:00 pm - 6:00 am. This bathroom was shared between four adults, meaning that access to the bathroom during prime time (6:00 am - 8:00 am) was not always guaranteed. Then, when I could get into the bathroom, the toilet didn't even flush. I had to fill a bucket with water and throw that bucket of water down the toilet with enough force to imitate a flush. Sometimes, the toilet water splashed on to the floor, meaning that I would have to undertake a clean-up effort.

This all added up to me being generally anxious and always scheming about when I would be able to use a dependable bathroom. I was a nervous wreck.

Now, I have always felt comfortable using the toilet at my house. I have repeatedly cleaned the entire room with bleach and there are some spots that just won't come out. I was troubled by the fact that my friends didn't feel comfortable using the toilet in my house. I want this to be a home away from home where my friends are comfortable being themselves.


And I found this situation troublesome.

So I took action. I went to the local hardware store and inquired about how much it would cost to buy a new toilet seat.

The woman who works there told me it would cost five dollars.

Problem solved.


(This will be the first in a series of posts about lavatories.)

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Can you do this with your sweaty forehead?

Human beings perspire.

It is completely natural. We sweat to cool off.

Living in the sauna that is Arenillas in the rainy season, one sweats a lot. Sometimes, it feels as if you are living with a permanent layer of sweat over your body - even when taking a cold shower.

It seems completely natural to try to wipe the sweat off your forehead.

It builds up. You get uncomfortable, and you don't want the sweat to just sit there. So you wipe it off. (In the world sauna championships, competitors are allowed to wipe sweat off their face)

But, down here, they don't just wipe the sweat off their forehead. The forehead-wipe is also accompanied by a wrist flick in an apparent effort to get the sweat off your (already-sweaty) hand.

This first came to my attention a few weeks ago during a balmy meeting at city hall. The fan was broken, and even though the window was open, air wasn't really flowing through.

Every few seconds, the leader of the meeting would wipe the sweat off his forehead. But it wasn't the wiping that caught my attention. It was the accompanying flick that made me notice.

He would flick his wrist with such intensity to get the sweat off his hand that you could tell he was really focusing on this. But sweat never flew off his hand. He kept sweating and kept flicking, but nothing came off.

He must have flicked his wrist hundreds off times during the meeting (he was definitely sweating profusely), but he couldn't wipe enough sweat onto his hand to launch a measurable quantity of perspiration into the air.

Obviously, I found this hilarious.

I quickly found myself explaining this situation to my friends, imitating his exact moves. It started in jest. I was flicking my wrist with the same energy that one with throw a curveball.

I wondered whether it was possible to brush the sweat off my forehead and then flick it into the air in any quantity.

I tried this for a few days but, as expected, couldn't didn't see any sweat flying. I figured it would take me until the end of my service to accomplish this feat.

Then, one steamy evening about a week after the meeting, I was sitting on my couch. I put the back of my index and middle fingers above my eyebrows, wiped the sweat off, and flicked. Like I always did.

But this time was different. I noticed a drop hit the ground.

At first, I didn't believe it. But when I realized that it had to be sweat, I immediately went for my camera.



Here's a step-by-step:

First: Gather sweat with first two fingers.



Flick



Hold position, as if you are shooting a three-pointer.

Monday, May 24, 2010

AREvista (fifth edition)



New edition of AREvista can be found here.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Huaquillas F.C. 1, Condor 0

I showed up at Condor's practice last Tuesday with the AREvista sports writer, ready to interview the head coach about his team's performance through the first part of the season and what he was looking forward to in the second stage.

But when I got to the field, the team's coach from last season, Gary Luna, was in charge. Luna had left Condor during the offseason because another team in Condor's league had offered him more money. He guided that team to a spot in the second round of the provincial tournament. And in the week before the first game of said tournament he is directing Condor's practice.

What's the deal?

Well, Condor really needed a coach because its head coach and assistant coach are both suspended for three months, essentially the duration of the tournament. That explains the need for someone else to come help out.

But didn't Luna ditch Condor for another team?

It's obvious that Bo Schembechler isn't pulling the strings for Condor. There's no "We want a Michigan Man coaching Michigan."

The Condor leadership went after Luna because of his familiarity with the players. My doubt about his presence on the team has to do with how the team played last year in the second round of the provincial tournament - uninspired and unable to score any goals.

Which is kind of how the team played Saturday.

In the first game of the Liguilla, Condor was out-played in every facet, losing 1-0.

Huaquillas controlled everything - from the pace of the game to the crowd. It almost looked as if Condor didn't belong on the same field as them. The opposition looked bigger, stronger, and faster (and had more facial hair). They played with more rhythm and dominated possession. Every time Condor looked like it might have a chance at creating some offense, Huaquillas's defense easily dispatched the risk.

Condor looked unorganized. The defense was shaky. The goalie was off his game. And the offense, as we already know, has no game.

At the end of soccer games, when a team is trailing by one goal, they normally put more pressure on the offensive end and create some game-tying chances. This week saw nothing of the sort. The fans actually started to leave before the whistle blew, even though the home crowd was one point from the tie.

After watching this match, my hopes for the rest of Condor's season aren't diminished, though. There was a large crowd at this week's game, which means that the club made a lot of money on entrance fees. They will now be able to use this money to hire better players (ringers, essentially) to continue improving throughout the season.

Even if a good portion of the crowd was Huaqillas fans traveling 20 minutes down the road, the gate proceeds still go to Condor. It will be interesting to see what kinds of changes Condor makes in the coming weeks because maintaining the status quo would be painful to watch.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

That might look like a carrot

I was walking through a street market the other day when I came across an unfamiliar vegetable.

As is my custom when I see some variety of produce for the first time, I asked for a bit more information.

I was told that it is called "zanahoria blanca" (white carrot). They said that it is common in soup. That's the same way they describe quinoa here. (It's like saying "Oh, they put that in cholent.)



Hmm, I thought, I have never heard of a white carrot. I'm sure that there are other uses for this albino carrot. I'll just have to be creative.

So then I went to the best resource for obscure produce - the Internet. According to the Internet, this "white carrot" isn't quite the same as a carrot. It can't be eaten raw and should be treated almost exactly like a potato.

The Wikipedia told me that it is a common food in Brazil. So I asked someone familiar with that culture about it, and she said that she loves this batata-borao (Portuguese name, which calls it a kind of potato), especially in soups.

I thought this was a bit odd. People like eating potatoes, but I have never heard anybody say "I love potatoes." It''s not really the kind of vegetable that you love. It's the kind that you tolerate and might enjoy, but I think love goes a bit too far.

I don't really make soups, but there are so many ways to cook a potato that I figured I would just kind of wing it.

First I took the white carrot. Then I put it in boiling water for about 25 minutes. Then I mashed it up and mixed in some margarine and honey.

Then I stuffed it.



Its flavor is a cross between a potato and a peanut. It is a winner. Expect this to show up on my shabbat dinner table very soon - and frequently.

Sunday, May 09, 2010

Shabbat dinner: 5-7-10

This week's shabbat dinner was an intimate affair - just five people.

We had planned on having a large group for dinner but for a variety of reasons (tropical disease-related and otherwise), most couldn't come (which is sad).

But on the bright side, that means there are more delicious leftovers for me.

It was a beautiful, delicious meal. I had some camera issues last night, so I don't have visual proof to share with you. Problem has been resolved, and future meals will be documented in word and image.

Menu

Challah
Hummus
Greek green bean/tomato caserole
Mac and cheese
Banana, noodle kugel
Apple/blackberry crisp

(I previously mentioned two metrics to determine the success of Friday night meals. The first is the percentage of guests in a food coma-like state. The second is how long the table remains silent after the food is initially served.)

Food coma?
Yes. There was a consensus food coma. It was a struggle to get up and wash dishes. I then quickly fell asleep in my hammock.

Silence?

10-15 minutes.

Both very strong indicators of a successful shabbat dinner.

Overheard
After eating three full helpings of goodness, I ran into the proverbial wall. I asked my friend how one would say that in Spanish.

Apparently, it is "entrada de caballo, salida de burro." This literally translates to "entering like a horse, leaving like a donkey."

Saturday, May 08, 2010

Condor 1, Santos FC 0

Last week, the Condor faithful spent a half hour after the game clamoring of the referees head.

Tonight, that same group spent a half hour after the game caravanning around Arenillas, celebrating their team's classification into the next round.

That's soccer.

This afternoon, facing a must-win game at Santos FC in Pasaje, Condor netted its point in the 25th minute and held on for the rest of the match to advance to the Liguilla. Now, Condor will face the five best teams in the conference in a ten-game season to advance to a national-level tournament.

This afternoon's game looked like so many of Condor's other matches — scoring early and letting its guard down in the end. But despite allowing three corner kicks and a few other good chances in the final minutes, Condor held on and lives to see another day.

My first celebration caravan

Once we got back to Arenillas, a parade of cars coming back from the game amassed at the bridge. Then for the next 30 minutes, we drove through town, honking our horns and shouting about Condor's big win.

It is fun to see the community get behind its team and should be interesting to see as the season continues.

Punished

Well, after last week's outburst at the referees, Condor head coach Roberto Salazar was suspended by the soccer federation. For the next three months, he is not allowed to be on the sidelines during games.

The team's trainer was also suspended for three months.

Since the stadium was empty and pretty quiet, that didn't really affect their ability to continue doing their jobs. They just did it on the other side of the fence.



But it did create some interesting situations when the Condor players faked injuries and they called over the medic because the team's medic is suspended and there is a rule that the coach can't attend to injuries.

Since the assistant coach was the only person on the sideline, he had to go out and attend to injuries.

Just so you know, he has no medical background. Luckily, all he had to do was spray on the magic, heals-everything solution.

Just a bit outside

The Arenillas radion commentator did his best Harry Doyle impression during today's game, going through quite a few beers while calling the game.

Now, I understand that expectations of what qualifies as acceptable professional behavior might differ between cultures, but I think it might be a little bit out of line when the commentator starts complaining on the air that the next round of beers isn't coming quickly enough.

His main job during games is to read off the advertisements.

By halftime, he was kind of slurring his words together a bit and mixing up the words he was saying. Then, when he was asking about the out-of-town scores, he clearly wasn't paying attention because he had to be told five or six times before being able to tell the audience that Santa Rosa and Fuerza Amarilla were scoreless.


Home away from home


Although Santos is a team from El Guabo, they do not have their own home stadium and have to play their games in Pasaje (half hour from El Guabo). As a result, there were about as many Condor fans on hand as there were Santos fans, canceling out any home-field advantage.

It was so quiet in the stadium that everybody could hear the Radio Voz Arenillas announcers as they broadcast the game. At one point, the radio announcers pointed out a mistake that the refs had made, and everybody else got mad at them.

Phrase of the day

Donde la papa quema - literally means where the potato burns. (I'm pretty sure this is what I heard)

The announcer mentioned this when Condor had some good chances to score. I believe it refers to being in good position to score, as in "They are spending a lot of time down where the potato burns."

Tuesday, May 04, 2010

Remembering Harwell

Last week, I began a blog post with a quote from the Bible to describe the change in season.

"For, lo, the winter has passed..."

As much as I enjoy quoting the Tanakh, by quoting that phrase, I was quoting legendary Tigers announcer Ernie Harwell, whose soothing, Georgia accent meant the beginning of spring (and more importantly baseball season).

Ernie died yesterday at the age of 92.

Some will remember his catchphrases (the above phrase that he used during the first broadcast each spring, "Like a house by the side of the road", "that ball is long gone", "two for the price of one", etc), but it was Ernie the person who left an indelible mark on Detroit, the State of Michigan, and baseball fans.

For anybody who grew up listening to Tigers broadcasts, Ernie was the voice of summer. There is no logical reason why, growing up in Detroit in the 1990s, baseball would be someone's favorite sport. But Ernie's presence in the booth made listening to games so pleasant and enjoyable no matter how pathetic the Tigers were.

And just by listening to Ernie's broadcasts for the first 14 years of my life and never actually meeting the man was enough for him to be one of the people I most admired. His personality came across through the radio waves, through how he told stories, and narrated the game. He never made himself part of the game. He maintained a professionalism and a humility that was admirable. In an era where broadcasters and journalists increasingly made themselves part of the story, Ernie stayed out of it. He came across as a complete mensch.

When I was 14, I attended an event at the Jewish Community Center that was featuring Ernie. I think it had something to do with a new book he had just written. I realized that I had left my copy of the book at home and didn't have anything for him sign. And like any baseball-obsessed kid, autographs meant everything to me. I felt around in my pocket and realized that I had my baseball yarmulke. I asked Ernie to sign my yarmuulke, and he told me that he had never signed one before but that he would gladly sign it.

Like any other pieces of memorabilia, I should have stored it in a safe place. But with my Ernie Harwell-signed kippah, I was so happy that I wore it around my high school until I could find a replacement baseball kippah.

It was my first personal interaction with Ernie (although listening to him on the radio felt like he was talking directly to you, he was actually speaking to millions of people), and he came across just as he did on the radio - completely down to earth.

A couple of years later, I was interviewed by the Detroit Free Press, and I mentioned that Ernie was one of the people that I most admired. The night that the piece appeared in the paper, the phone at my house rang. It was Ernie. He called me to thank me for the nice things I had said about him in the newspaper. Ernie Harwell, the voice of the Tigers, called my house to thank me for something I said about him in the paper.

The amazing thing is that I know this was just the kind of person Ernie was.

After high school, I worked as an usher at Comerica Park and would often see Ernie around the ballpark. He was always friendly, and when we spoke, he said he remembered signing the kippah and calling me about the article. When some of his friends came to a game and were sitting in my section, he would talk to me for a few seconds before heading back up to the booth. Seeing him around the stadium, he treated everybody else with this same level of respect.

He was a different kind of person.

Judging by the public's reaction to his retirement, his illness, and his death, it is clear that people admired him for much more than simply being the voice of the Tigers.

What made him so memorable isn't what he did in the radio booth and in his life. It is how he did it - with a level of respect, humility, and outreach - that sets him apart.

Fuerza Amarilla 2, Condor 1

Soccer fans are passionate.

Their devout support, through good and bad, is something I wish American fans would display a bit more.

But there are times when this passion crosses the line, like Saturday afternoon.

A near riot broke out in the stadium after the game as the frustrated fan base gathered to take out their anger on the referees for some questionable calls. For half an hour after the game ended, the fans were still gathered there as police officers surrounded the referees to protect them.

Now, I understand that the ref's made some questionable judgments that might have impacted the game. But at the same time, these calls didn't decide the game, and nothing good can come of waiting for the refs to leave the stadium. The game already ended, and the result wasn't going to change.

The calls in question came late in the game with Condor trailing by a goal. The ref called a foul on a Fuerza Amerilla player inside the 18-yard box, which would have resulted in a Condor penalty kick. But the line judge ruled that the foul was not inside the box, but about four centimeters outside.

So instead of taking a shot directly at the goalie, Condor had to face an eight-man wall. The ball sailed over the net, and the whole situation changed the momentum of the game. A few minutes later, a Condor player was called for a red card for what seemed like some incidental pushing. The player and Condor's coach, Roberto Salazar, got in ref's face about the calls, and both had to be restrained by the police.

The refs were unable to restore order to the game for five minutes, and by the time play resumed, they were already in the 47th minute of the half. It seemed clear that the ref's had lost control of the game. And the fans have grounds to gripe.

It crossed the line from acceptable to unacceptable when the common insults about the ref and his mom´s occupation (common prostitute) were replaced by broken beer bottles and mobs at the fence.

Did the refs make some bad calls? Sure.

Did Condor continue to suck at offense? Even more so. Like any other week, if Condor could have converted one of its three golden chances, we wouldn´t be talking about riots.

Instead of getting mad at the refs and waiting for them to leave the stadium so that you can intimidate them further, the Condor fans should ask the club leadership to put more resources into the club, like Fuerza Amarilla did this week.

(Segue into my next point)

There was a buzz in the stadium before the game.

One of the greats in Ecuadorian soccer history was going to be playing for Fuerza Amarilla. Recognizing the importance of this game, the Machala team signed a big name.

Cuchillo Fernandez.

Throughout the 90s and early 00s, Fernandez was a fixture in the Ecuadorian premiere league, playing for some of the country´s top teams. I would say he has spent the last five years in the downward swing of his career.

He is nearly 40 years old and started playing professional soccer before most of his current teammates were born. He is playing the Ecuadorian equivalent of independent minor league baseball.

He can´t play the full 90 minutes any more. He can barely go 45. He subbed in about midway through the second half. He didn`t do too much to wreak havoc on the Condor defense, but his presence on the field definitely changed how Condor defended and led to Fuerza Amarilla´s second goal.

Now, I don´t know about Condor´s financial situation. But I can´t imagine it being out of their price range to hire a player for a game or two to ensure classification to the next round.

Chances to advance

Here is the table of positions. Each team has one game left. The top two advance - the other two go home.

Santa Rosa 8
Fuerza Amarilla 7
Condor 6
Santos FC 6

A team gets three points for a win and one for a tie. Condor plays at Santos. Fuerza Amarilla hosts Santa Rosa. The fun thing about this weekend is that each team has a chance to advance.

Condor controls its own destiny. If it wins, it will advance. According to a conversation I had earlier today, Condor would lose the tiebreaker, which is based on goal differential. So Condor's path is clear: win and advance. Otherwise, the season's over.


Fun word


Futbolisticamente - soccer-wise

Sunday, May 02, 2010

My first quince

I remember watching a movie in high school Spanish class called ´´Quince´´. It was about a Mexican girl´s 15th birthday party.

In Latin culture, when a girl turns fifteen, she doesn´t get her learner´s permit. Instead, she has a big party to celebrate the fact that she is no longer a child, that she is now expected to assume the responsibilities on adult.

Sound familiar?

The only things missing are the candle-lighting, Star Trax, the hora, and a mitzvah project.

Last week, I went to my first Quinceñera (15th birthday party). One of the youth from the newspaper group was turning fifteen and invited me to the event, which was going to be held at her house.

When I heard that the party was going to be held at her house, I didn´t know how they were going to pull it off. She doesn´t live in a very big house, and it´s pretty full of stuff. But when I stopped by a little earlier in the afternoon, they had cleared out the entire house and filled the room with a circle of chairs and put another circle of chairs in the yard. Where everything else went I have no idea.

The family had spent the entire week making pink and white decorations for the house. It was really nice, and their hard work definitely paid off.

I was told the event was going to begin at 8:00. I asked some of the other newspaper kids who had been invited what time it was actually going to show up. They said that there was no way it would start before 9:45. So I got there at 9:40, and things got under way just before 10:00. They also told me not to eat beforehand because there was going to be dinner at the party. Well, dinner was not going to be served until the wee hours of the morning, so I had a full meal ahead of time.

Like any event in Ecuador, there was an enumerated order of events to take place. Someone announces the event and its place in the order of the day before said event occurs.

The ceremony started with a procession of various people, starting with something like to flower girls, followed by the birthday girl´s parents, and then the birthday girl, accompanied by her male chaperon (in this case, her brother). The birthday girl takes a seat at the front of the room in a decorated chair.


Then comes the ceremonial changing of the shoes. The birthday girl entered the room wearing some sort of flip-flop house shoe. The flower girls weren´t flower girls. One was a shoe girl. When entering the room, she carried a pillow with a high-heeled shoes perched on top of it. Then birthday girl´s parents perform the shoe-changing ceremony.

After the shoe ceremony, the other flower girl is called up. This one is the makeup girl. On her pillow, she was carrying some makeup. Then the birthday girl´s godmother is called up to apply makeup.

Then, it´s time for the speeches. First, the parents give a tear-jerking speech about how their little girl is all grown up. Then, the birthday girl gives a tear-filled speech, thanking her parents for everything they have done for her and for making this such a special night.

After that there is the first dance, father with daughter and mother with son.

Then, they quote Buzz McAllister and say ´´Enough of this gooey show of emotion.`` Dance party!!!!

And so the dance party begins, rotating ten-minute sets between tecno-cumbia songs (favorites of the parents) and reggaeton (preferred rhythm of the teenagers).

When the adult music is on, all the kids go out to the front yard. When it's time for reggaeton, the kids dominate the dance floor and the parents sit down. There was no klezmer set, so I stayed seated the whole time.

After the first dance set, there is one last rite of passage - and it has nothing to do with the birthday girl. (Ecuadorian dance parties work in a sequence of 15 minutes of dancing followed by three minutes of recovery before another set comes on.)

And much like a bat mitzvah has events that symbolize the assumption of responsibilities, so too does the quinceñera. Though the significance of this last part was a little lost on me.

All of the birthday girl's best friends line up on the dance floor. Then the birthday girl's chaperon puts a blind fold on. He reaches up the birthday girl's leg and grabs a garter. He takes it off her leg and puts it on the leg of one of her friends, all the while the crowd is cheering for him to put it higher and higher on the girls leg.


But he doesn't stop at just one garter. He performs the same act on every one of the girl's friends, making me feel uncomfortable each time he reached up her leg or one of her friend's. I have tried to think about what this could signify. I have no idea.

After this, I waited around for a few more dance sets before realizing that it was getting a bit late and that I didn't want to sit through this quinceñera all night long.

So I said my farewells and headed home.


Is it weird that there is a special birthday party for the girls when they turn fifteen that means that they no accept the responsibil´ities of being a woman in society but there is nothing for the boys? Does that mean they never have to accept responsibilities?

Saturday, May 01, 2010

Shabbat dinner: 4-30-10



Every week, we cook shabbat dinner here.

It has become a bit of a tradition in Arenillas. It has become normal to hear Ecuadorians discuss last week's challah, the unlimited possibilities of kugel, or the raw material for making farfel.

Friday night dinners are my favorite time of the week. I have explained this before, but it bears repeating. More so than a religious event, dinner is a time to be spent with family and friends. The week is over. One need not worry about the week that was or the one that will be. One can simply focus on enjoying the food and conversation at the dinner table.

Friday night dinner has become an institution in my house. Some things are constant. Each week, I make a challah and (almost every week) a dessert crisp. I borrow tables and chairs from the ceviche restaurant across the street.

What does vary from week to week are the rest of the menu, the guests, and the shenanigans that are bound to ensue. As a way to remember these dinners, I have decided to include a shabbat dinner feature on the blog. That way, I can share these meals with you and easily refer to the dinner menus.

It has also become a great bonding experience for the volunteers in the area. There are a few other volunteers nearby, and Friday night dinners are a great opportunity for every one to get together.

Without any further ado, last night's dinner:

Menu
Challah with raisins
Blintzes (cream cheese, chocobanana, apple cinnamon)
Hash browns
Fritatta
Blackberry/peach crisp

The menu was a success. One easy metric for shabbat dinner success is the amount of conversation at the table immediately after the food is served. Aside from asking for a certain dish to be passed, the only sound was that of silver wear tapping plates for about ten minutes.

Another metric is the food coma ratio. I think last night's meal achieved an 83 percent food coma ratio.

I have not made blintzes before but learned that they are relatively easy and delicious. An instant classic. They will be back on the menu in two weeks for shavout shabbat. We decided to focus on the sweet blintzes filling but are resolved to attempt savory blintzes one week. Pretty maids all in a row...



This was the first time that I added raisins to the challah. I would say it was well received.

Sarah made a veggie fritatta. We had planned on making a quiche but when we learned that a fritatta is a quiche sans crust, our quiche turned into a fritatta.

Last week, we were kind of bored of making the same crisp dessert so many weeks in a row. But when I brought out dessert, there was nearly a mutiny. The guests demanded a crisp. And well, we had to capitulate.

What broke?


For three consecutive weeks, something in my house has broken during shabbat dinner.

Two weeks ago, my fridge broke during dinner. It spent a week in rehab but is back and better than ever.

Last week, one of our guests tripped over and broke my fan. It spent a day at the repair shop and is now functioning again.

Yesterday, the guests were carrying my glass table (my landlord's glass table) from the kitchen to the living room when the bumped into the door. The glass table top fell and shattered.


Should I start locking all of my stuff up before people come and putting protective plastic on everything else?

Overheard

"Ian, when you go back to the States, you should open up a restaurant."