tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123411212024-03-18T15:58:26.729-04:00Cruz BustamanteNow a TravelBlog
(though still a Refuge for Progressives, Liberals, and Other Thought Criminals)bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.comBlogger509125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-70236191378778078252012-03-12T14:08:00.000-04:002012-03-12T14:08:19.828-04:00Napping!<a href="http://www.patioproductions.com/blog/news/napping/"><img src="http://www.patioproductions.com/blog/wp-content/upLoads/2011/Napping-ITDOnlineStores-101411.jpg" alt="" width="400" height="3639" /></a>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-43947594898056037732010-07-31T21:44:00.002-04:002010-07-31T21:50:41.686-04:00more spanish!méxico vs argentina<div>pool = piscina (maybe alberca) vs. pileta</div><div>jacket = chamarra vs. campera</div><div>t-shirt = playera vs. remera</div><div><br /></div><div>rivalry - rivalidad</div><div>to score a goal - meter un gol</div><div>el fútbol es gracioso (funny)</div><div><br /></div><div>leftovers are sobras</div><div><br /></div><div>to leave a place is "irse," not salir. salir is more to go out. Por eso, salí de la oficina al kiosko y volví. Siempre me voy de la oficina as las 7. </div><div><br /></div><div>with infinitives and gerunds, the pronoun can go "por atrás." Vamos a disfrutarlo. Estoy disfrutandolo. </div><div>with all other tenses, the pronoun must go adelante. </div>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-23718481593012556212010-07-26T21:12:00.004-04:002010-07-28T10:56:38.294-04:00spanish lessons<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/TE43DuOouCI/AAAAAAAAAP0/auQCIqFe-uk/s1600/DSC03929.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/TE43DuOouCI/AAAAAAAAAP0/auQCIqFe-uk/s400/DSC03929.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498392732154509346" /></a><br />random things learned in spanish class recently:<br /><br />the verb haber (there is/are, there exist) is used more with tangible things. Hay dos libros en la mesa. Hay mucha gente en la parque.<br /><br />the verb existir (to exist) is used more with ideas, arguments, abstract things. Existe muchos argumentos en favor del matrimonio homosexual (ahora <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/16/world/americas/16argentina.html">legal en argentina</a>)<br /><br />en argentina, to say "to drink," always use tomar. beber is more formal and sounds odd.<br /><br />because = porque, ya que, o por lo que<br />therefore = por eso, por lo tanto, o en consecuencia<br /><br />when discussing rights, es derecho de [verbo], por ejemplo, derecho de casarse, o derecho de vivir libre de la tortura<br />o derecho al/ a la [sustantivo], por ejemplo, derecho a la vida, derecho al matrimonio, derecho a la igualidad<br /><br />línea = line, but in the sense of line in a drawing, also lane en una autopista o carretera<br />fila o cola = line, in the sense of a line of people. hacer fila o hacer cola = to wait in line<br /><br />suyo/suya = his/hers<br />tuyo/tuya = yours<br />cuyo = whose, often used with inanimate objects<br /><br />here is aquí in Mexico, acá here in Argentina<br />ahí o allí = there, but there closeby, within eyesight generally<br />allá = there, but more like way over there<br /><br />Estoy acá en la oficina, el vino está ahí en la sala, y hay más vino allá en la vinoteca.<br /><br />I am terrible at the difference between imperfecto and pretérito. typically, pretérito is for actions that happened once and are done. imperfecto is for actions that were 1) habitual, 2) used to describe, eg, ella tenía 30 años, brian era jugador muy malo, or 3) when there are two subjects, such as discurso indirecto, eg, me dijo que iba a ir a la fiesta o me mandó correo diciendo que llevaba a dos chicas.<br /><br />imperfecto is used much more in telling stories: me dolía mucho la cabeza y por eso no salí a la fiesta. or when one action interrupted an ongoing action: Cuando caminaba a la oficina vi a dos personas.<br /><br />Interestingly, to say the same, puede ser, Cuando estaba caminando a la oficina vi a dos personas. For most purposes, estaba + gerund and imperfecto mean the same thing, and for whatever reason, the estaba + gerund form seems more common.<br /><br />but watch out, with mientras, you need parallel construction. mientras caminaba a la oficina, escuchaba una fiesta.<div><br /></div><div>a borrador is a rough draft, but the verb borrar does not mean to draft, it means to erase.<br /><br />(photo is potrerillos, lake near mendoza)</div>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-49059613254375320302010-06-26T22:10:00.003-04:002010-06-26T22:17:24.979-04:00cool blog to recommendMet a couple in Mendoza a few weeks ago, <a href="http://lisaandtony.com/">Lisa and Tony</a>. Check out their post on <a href="http://lisaandtony.com/2010/04/15/wine-camp-at-vines-of-mendoza-estates-in-uco-valley/">Wine Camp</a>. And now I really need to see the <a href="http://lisaandtony.com/2010/05/07/salinas-grandes-in-northwest-argentina/">salt flats</a>.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/TCazxUrUEHI/AAAAAAAAAPs/iAVa_Lzpa3s/s1600/4524038835_5bc625fe01_b.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/TCazxUrUEHI/AAAAAAAAAPs/iAVa_Lzpa3s/s200/4524038835_5bc625fe01_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487270855942869106" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/TCazw3J50oI/AAAAAAAAAPk/ff78QMJpC0g/s1600/4605092012_80bb5d0b40_b.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/TCazw3J50oI/AAAAAAAAAPk/ff78QMJpC0g/s200/4605092012_80bb5d0b40_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487270848018109058" /></a>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-38625099127233284642010-06-17T09:10:00.002-04:002010-06-17T09:15:19.354-04:00ghost town<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/TBof0aVyf9I/AAAAAAAAAPc/_eiMOTqiCi8/s1600/240606.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/TBof0aVyf9I/AAAAAAAAAPc/_eiMOTqiCi8/s320/240606.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483730481561370578" /></a><br />walking to work today at my normal hour (10), I was stunned -- the streets were empty. ghost town empty. where were the meandering abuelas that I usually have to dodge, the cars (that I also have to dodge), the other people walking to work? Is today a holiday I didn't remember? Then I hear a roar coming from a bar and I remember -- <a href="http://www.fifa.com/live/competitions/worldcup/matchday=7/day=1/match=300061458/index.html">Argentina</a> is playing Korea this morning.bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-78070036260057673282010-06-14T21:13:00.004-04:002010-06-14T21:26:30.405-04:00try this, you'll hate it<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/TBbVpjMSrUI/AAAAAAAAAPU/sjSW7z8U29Y/s1600/mazza-aldo-fernet-branca-9934193.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 228px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/TBbVpjMSrUI/AAAAAAAAAPU/sjSW7z8U29Y/s320/mazza-aldo-fernet-branca-9934193.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482804506168307010" /></a><br />That's what a friend said to me my first night in mendoza, handing me a fernet con coca. he was right - it was awful. <br /><br />The <a href="http://www.sfweekly.com/2005-12-07/news/the-myth-of-fernet/full">SF Weekly</a>, reporting on its popularity with hipsters, had it right. <br /><br /><blockquote>When you hold a shot glass of Fernet-Branca to your nose, the first thing that strikes you is the physicality of the smell, which, if such a thing existed, is like black licorice-flavored Listerine. Put it to your lips and tip it back, and the assault on the throat and sinuses is aggressively medicinal. For many so-called "Fergins" uninitiated to the drink, it can be accompanied by a feeling that may either bring a tear to the eye or lunch to the esophagus. As a bitter Italian aperitif of more than 40 herbs and spices, it most often gets compared to Campari and Jägermeister, though by measure of accuracy, it's equally similar to Robitussin or Pennzoil.</blockquote><br /><br />6 weeks later, I have a bottle in my fridge. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fernet">Wiki</a> says:<br /><br /><blockquote>Highly popular in Argentina, it is often taken as a national beverage. The production in this country is around 20 million litres, 35% sold in Buenos Aires province and Federal District and 30% in Córdoba province (with a population of 3 million people). Although originally fernet was mainly served with water or soda, now (since late eighties) the most common preparation is with Coca-Cola: A tall glass with several ice cubes is filled about 1/10 full with Fernet and then Coke is slowly added.</blockquote><br /><br />And it's true. They drink it a lot here. And, I suppose, now, so do I. You want to order it, "para preparar," that is, a tall glass filled near the top with fernet and ice, another glass with only ice, and a bottle of coke (if you're lucky it's a glass bottle of real coke). <br /><br />And because of the <a href="http://wine-republic.com/mendoza/culture/178-the-origins-of-crisis">exchange rate</a>, you can buy a lot of it, cheap!bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-82805119656935876872010-05-28T11:59:00.003-04:002010-05-28T12:05:11.731-04:00por andar detrás de la hormigaLearned a new Spanish idiom today:<div>Por andar detrás de la <a href="http://blogsquatters.blogspot.com/2009/10/mensage-las-hormigas-en-mi-departamento.html">hormiga</a>, se te pasa el elfante. </div><div>"For trying to get the ant, the elephant passes you by/you miss the elephant."</div><div>Much like our "Can't see the forest for the trees."</div><div>Also, here is a photo of the vineyard.</div><div><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S__pj_VdEsI/AAAAAAAAAPM/yF3TBesgWj0/s1600/DSC03094.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S__pj_VdEsI/AAAAAAAAAPM/yF3TBesgWj0/s400/DSC03094.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476352476411925186" /></a>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-37154743375106496692010-05-25T21:13:00.003-04:002010-05-26T18:29:47.968-04:00Happy Birthday Argentina<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwUE3yvhX-E-mOnHaOLXNNXyFqCrahB7nqr3twC48xnb_2Ave0I-9hjhHYz_rubt1LFdo4Efmt-baE' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe> <div>Mendoza was pretty fun, but probably BA was the <a href="http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2010/05/argentinas_bicentennial.html">place to be</a>. </div>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-90059539726821073912010-05-24T17:30:00.003-04:002010-05-24T17:53:06.195-04:00Mendoza - sociedad insular?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S_r0pQ3akmI/AAAAAAAAAPE/upkVag_gc3c/s1600/DSC03166.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S_r0pQ3akmI/AAAAAAAAAPE/upkVag_gc3c/s320/DSC03166.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474957286761468514" /></a><br />At a <a href="http://www.mendozaexpats.org/">Mendoza Expats</a> happy hour last week, I met a Scottish neurobiologist who told me he'd lived in Mendoza since 1996. I told him, "So you're a real Mendocino now," and he just laughed. Pointing to his half-Argentinian 12 year daughter, who was born here, he said, "Maybe her kids will be real Mendocinos." That's the reputation -- that for as friendly as Mendocinos are with foreigners, to really get into the culture takes generations.<br /><br />It reminds me of a conversation I had with a couple I met traveling in Oaxaca. When I asked where they were from, they responded, "Well, we've been living in New Orleans for 20 years now, but, you know, until you're third generation you're not really from there." (Maybe <a href="http://geraldinemander.blogspot.com/">geraldinemander</a> can inform on the truth of that.)<br /><br />It's an odd contrast. La gente son tan amable -- see my last post for an example. Out for drinks the other night, the waiter asked where I was from and upon learning Texas (this is very interesting to Argentinos), he sat at our table, got us free drinks, and chatted for a half hour. Es típico aca. People are warm and welcoming. Except on Sundays.<br /><br />Sundays are family day. Everything is closed save a few restaurants. The tradition is to have a big <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asado">asado</a> with your extended family. And to get invited to one, you've got to be in. I think married to an Argentina does it, but not sure.<br /><br />As my boss, who's lived here for almost 5 years, put it, "On Sundays I walk around town and I feel like I'm an orphan." I felt the same sentiment today walking around Parque Cívico for the <a href="http://www.bicentenario.argentina.ar/">bicentennial</a> celebration (tomorrow is the 200th anniversary of Argentina). Toting around my small bottle of malbec after destroying a plate of ribs (very reminiscent of the <a href="http://www.greekfestival.org/">Houston Greek Festival</a> crossed with <a href="http://www.usa.gov/Topics/Independence_Day.shtml">4th of July</a>, btw), I felt a little orphaned too. It's a culture centered on the family. I know, what culture isn't? But there's a purity to the family group here. In Mexico, a pachanga might be family, friends, business associates of the father, etc, but it doesn't appear so here. Porqúe?<br /><br />De todos modos, happy birthday Argentina! I'm happy to celebrate it with you, even if I'm only partly invited.bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-66374961672953650732010-05-19T19:50:00.006-04:002010-05-19T20:14:31.381-04:00friendliness in Mendoza<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S_R-05ngxkI/AAAAAAAAAO8/d4JaJiD1D14/s1600/410.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S_R-05ngxkI/AAAAAAAAAO8/d4JaJiD1D14/s320/410.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473138894446839362" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S_R-fYSY5cI/AAAAAAAAAO0/AN8aSg32qQY/s1600/wine_3830804_full.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S_R-fYSY5cI/AAAAAAAAAO0/AN8aSg32qQY/s320/wine_3830804_full.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473138524722619842" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S_R964Ic-cI/AAAAAAAAAOs/PVw1MFBCJdI/s1600/enamore.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S_R964Ic-cI/AAAAAAAAAOs/PVw1MFBCJdI/s320/enamore.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473137897615718850" /></a><br />Went to look at an apartment today. I met the owner's husband at his medical office (he's a pediatrician) and he took a 30 minute break to walk over to the apartment and show it to me. The apartment was tiny and weird. I stammered that I would get back to him. And then the doc asked me if he could buy me a cup of coffee to welcome me to Mendoza. I was stunned. Where does that happen? We stopped in a cafe, had an espresso, and chatted for 20 minutes. He gave me tips on how not to get mugged, talked some shit about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Porte%C3%B1o">porteños</a>, said he'd connect me with some of his lawyer friends, chatted some about the wine business. and suggested his son (who's in university) and I get together, to practice English and Spanish, respectively. Told me to call him if I needed anything in Mendoza. I was suspicious the whole time, but I think he's just an avuncular, nice Mendocino. <div><br /></div><div>Also, some wines to recommend:</div><div><a href="http://www.clubdelvino.com.ar/Product.aspx?Id=118">Lorca Viognier</a></div><div><a href="http://acequia.ewinerysolutions.com/index.cfm?method=storeproducts.showDrilldown&productid=24da7258-1cc4-fbb6-23f9-2a2f10553ffa&ProductCategoryID=dc7efab8-1cc4-fbb6-236c-16c7aae4a5d6&WineryID=E2D022C5-ADB0-8EA5-38F0-3C2AADBDCACB&WineTypeID=&ProductType=&wineVarietalID=&wineRegionID=&vintage=&lowprice=&highPrice=&WineBrandID=&WineAppellationID=&lowletter=&highletter=&OrderBy=PXPC.DisplayOrder%20Asc,%20P.ProductName%20ASC&ShippingState=IL">Malbec de Angeles</a></div><div><a href="http://acequia.ewinerysolutions.com/index.cfm?method=storeproducts.showDrilldown&productid=bd392e1a-e9a4-00c9-4930-e1d2175c5ae2&ProductCategoryID=dc7efab8-1cc4-fbb6-236c-16c7aae4a5d6&WineryID=E2D022C5-ADB0-8EA5-38F0-3C2AADBDCACB&WineTypeID=&ProductType=&wineVarietalID=&wineRegionID=&vintage=&lowprice=&highPrice=&WineBrandID=&WineAppellationID=&lowletter=&highletter=&OrderBy=PXPC.DisplayOrder%20Asc,%20P.ProductName%20ASC&ShippingState=IL">Enamore Blend</a></div>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-78607400056060852162010-05-02T17:03:00.002-04:002010-05-02T17:21:45.106-04:00almohadas de vinoCruz se mudó a <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/28/dining/reviews/28wine.html">Mendoza</a>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S93qczZfidI/AAAAAAAAAN0/8AkumYLIf5k/s1600/28winespan-1-articleLarge.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 221px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S93qczZfidI/AAAAAAAAAN0/8AkumYLIf5k/s400/28winespan-1-articleLarge.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466783303252019666" /></a>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-27448204289352718672010-04-22T20:11:00.003-04:002010-04-22T20:34:56.812-04:00periquitos en la ciudadAyer, mientras estaba haciendo ejercicio en mi gimnasio, vi dos periquitos verdes sentados en la línea de teléfono fuera de la ventana -- apenas diez pies de mi cara. En Costa Rica, incluso en la ciudad, hay pájaros magníficos.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S9Dq5Y6GnYI/AAAAAAAAANs/XhEXR7Ougek/s1600/thumbs_s01_GreenParrot.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S9Dq5Y6GnYI/AAAAAAAAANs/XhEXR7Ougek/s200/thumbs_s01_GreenParrot.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463124619660008834" /></a>(parecen como esto)<br /><br />There's also some fun tico slang. "Choza de la momia," which literally means "mummy hut," is slang for the house of the girl you're going out with. Choza is all purpose slang here for house. And momia sounds like "novia," meaning girlfriend. It may also be (not sure I heard this right), that a mummy is a monster, and at times girlfriends can be too. <br /><br />And now, some new spanish vocabulary:<br />tiquismos - expressions unique to costa rica<br />retroalimentación/realimentación - feedback<br />hipoteca - mortgage<br />vid - vine<br />viñedo - vineyard<br />catar - to taste<br />catación - tasting<br />arbitraje - arbitration <br />maletas - suitcases; muletas - crutches<br />principio - beginning (as in, a principios de, o al principio)<br />sin fines de lucro - nonprofit<br />expectativa - expectationbdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-21510405181007882782010-04-18T23:36:00.015-04:002010-04-20T01:54:11.574-04:00The Ceiba tree of El CastilloIn El Castillo, Costa Rica, in a meadow near the top of a hill overlooking Lake Arenal, there is a very old <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ceiba">ceiba</a>, or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kapok">kapok</a>, tree.<br /><br />Ceiba trees can support <a href="http://www.art-and-archaeology.com/seasia/nature/nature06.html">monuments</a>, grow very <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Bombax_LalBagh.JPG">large</a>, inspire children's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Great-Kapok-Tree-Amazon-Forest/dp/015200520X">books</a>, and may, according to the Mayans, be <a href="http://laceiba.honduras.com/ceiba-tree.html">dimensional portals</a>.<br /><br />The Ceiba Foundation describes them as <a href="http://www.ceiba.org/ceiba.htm">such</a>:<br /><br /><blockquote>Ceiba pentandra is a majestic tropical tree and appropriate symbol for the complex biological interactions and human connections with the environment that drive our work. The giant limbs of the Ceiba's umbrella-shaped crown are laden with epiphytes (aerial plants) and provide a home for countless species of animals. Birds feed and nest in the tree's high perches, mammals use the enormous limbs as aerial highways, frogs raise their tadpoles in the tiny pools that collect in bromeliads, and insects reach the peak of their diversity in the canopy of giant trees like the Ceiba.<br /><br />The ancient Maya of Central America believed that a great Ceiba tree stood at the center of the earth, connecting the terrestrial world to the spirit-world above. The long thick vines hanging down from its spreading limbs provided a connection to the heavens for the souls that ascended them.</blockquote><br /><br />Seeing the ceiba tree in El Castillo, one understands the thought. We came upon it driving to our <a href="http://nepenthe-costarica.com/">hotel</a> Tuesday afternoon. It's tall, really tall, and all by itself, like the rest of the trees back off out of deference (ok, maybe it was just spared a clearing). It's been dead a long time. The inside is hollow and home to a colony of bats. The limbs are covered in mosses, lichen, plants and nesting birds and who knows what. We asked around about its history, and the locals just said it'd been there as long as anyone could remember. I don't know if it's a dimensional portal, but it has an otherworldly vibe. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vfQM9bPWI/AAAAAAAAANU/sJ0NMtTPSfg/s1600/IMG_2800.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vfQM9bPWI/AAAAAAAAANU/sJ0NMtTPSfg/s400/IMG_2800.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461704442566622562" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vVCyNaz2I/AAAAAAAAAMU/5xojMS5XFLg/s1600/DSC02460.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vVCyNaz2I/AAAAAAAAAMU/5xojMS5XFLg/s400/DSC02460.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461693216931368802" /></a><br /><br />The morning of Wednesday, March 31, we awoke to some serious rain, and around nine heard what sounded like a soft crash of thunder. Driving down the hill to the <a href="http://butterflyconservatory.org/our-history/">Butterfly Conservatory</a>, we saw that the ceiba's tree's large branch had fallen!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vVDDDVQmI/AAAAAAAAAMc/W6u4kEpF5xY/s1600/DSC02536.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vVDDDVQmI/AAAAAAAAAMc/W6u4kEpF5xY/s400/DSC02536.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461693221452464738" /></a><br /><br />That afternoon, we left the car in a ditch on the side of a mud road and passed through a hole in the barbed wire fence to take a look. This demanded much photo-taking.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vVEDeDL3I/AAAAAAAAAM0/kIegmJmys7I/s1600/DSC02540.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vVEDeDL3I/AAAAAAAAAM0/kIegmJmys7I/s400/DSC02540.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461693238744395634" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vfQySbKPI/AAAAAAAAANk/qZF-S5o2scs/s1600/IMG_2851.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vfQySbKPI/AAAAAAAAANk/qZF-S5o2scs/s400/IMG_2851.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461704452586809586" /></a><br /><br />The fallen branch:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vW1Zl7dmI/AAAAAAAAANE/0yVxtnbl_yI/s1600/DSC02542.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vW1Zl7dmI/AAAAAAAAANE/0yVxtnbl_yI/s400/DSC02542.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461695186008241762" /></a><br /><br />I like moss. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vW1H2z3LI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Lj2SjdYLKRE/s1600/DSC02541.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vW1H2z3LI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Lj2SjdYLKRE/s400/DSC02541.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461695181247208626" /></a><br /><br />the ceiba tree may have lost a branch, but this is one <a href="http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/04/06/tree-mendous/?emc=eta1">tree</a> that retains its magic. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vVD8OmMmI/AAAAAAAAAMs/JFxiQfENd9s/s1600/DSC02539.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vVD8OmMmI/AAAAAAAAAMs/JFxiQfENd9s/s400/DSC02539.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461693236800533090" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vfQio12iI/AAAAAAAAANc/Bge2AwNtIJQ/s1600/IMG_2848.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S8vfQio12iI/AAAAAAAAANc/Bge2AwNtIJQ/s400/IMG_2848.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461704448385866274" /></a>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-72166168103783762552010-03-27T17:14:00.006-04:002010-03-27T17:44:14.456-04:00some links<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:medium;"><a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4525189">Police: Man tried to revive dead possum; alcohol involved</a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:medium;"><a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4525189">Terry Gross interviews The RZA</a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><a href="http://charliefonville.posterous.com/">Fonville</a> usually has something interesting</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><a href="http://spanishlanguagesite.com/blog/">Light Look at Spain</a> is a fun spanish language blog</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">here's a foto from the san pedro neighborhood in san jose, CR</span></span></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S656OFXVnAI/AAAAAAAAAMM/CYqyMb4zNVk/s1600/DSC02137.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S656OFXVnAI/AAAAAAAAAMM/CYqyMb4zNVk/s400/DSC02137.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453430581169069058" /></a></div></div></div>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-65435397539780844982010-03-15T21:23:00.004-04:002010-03-16T03:20:37.078-04:00directions?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">San Jose, the capital and largest city of Costa Rica, home to a third of the country's population, lacks addresses. As in, most parts of the city lack street names. And where there are street names, no one knows them. Which means there are not street numbers. Instead, directions are given like this: </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's 225 meters south of the Mexican Cultural Center and 75 meters east, in the Los Yoses neighborhood. That's the address of my office. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The official MAILING address for my apartment is:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In Spanish:</span></span></div><div> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">del Banco Nacional del San Pedro</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">500 metros al sur, y 100 metros al oeste</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Edificio amarillo con dos plantas, apartamento numero 8</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">San Pedro Montes de Oca, Barrio Roosevelt</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">San Jose, Costa Rica</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In English:</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">From the National Bank in San Pedro</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">500 meters south and 100 meters west</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Yellow two-story building, apartment 8</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In the San Pedro Montes de Oca part of town, Roosevelt neighborhood</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">San Jose, Costa Rica</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">as someone who is interested in finding places, this is frustrating. while searching for an apartment I stopped in a restaurant for lunch. not sure where I was, I asked the server what street we were on. She didn't know the name of the street she worked on. very helpful. </span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">but as annoying as san jose is (and there's more), you're never more than a few hours from monkeys. </span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></p><p></p></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyr1RQL6BeNCL6A6qYPaLDgJP_u3hPnmBbHhXMnm_M2_pTXonRVjImRUQh0SJnR-FdqB146zux_8ao' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-38539664284497983882010-03-10T20:46:00.002-05:002010-03-10T21:00:45.282-05:00do not take the unlicensed cabs in san joseThat's the advice all the guidebooks, and licensed taxi drivers, and everyone here will give you. Which of course I ignored.<div><br /></div><div>The licensed cabs all are red with a yellow triangle on the door and a "maria," or meter, so you know what your fare is. But I found myself getting into a cab outside Raices Reggae Bar one Friday, thinking <i>what the hell?</i> Yeah, he doesn't have a maria, but I know the fare to my apt from here is 510 colones (about a dollar), so whatever (or, in Mexican, "equis"). </div><div><br /></div><div>Quick trip, pulls up outside my apartment (which has a little security guard in a little booth -- this will soon become important). He says 1500 colones. I express genuine shock and tell him that the trip is always 500 colones (silly me has already pulled out a 1000 colone bill and is expecting change). He insists. I tell him that's not right, but hand him the 1000 and tell him that's all he's getting. He starts cussing at me in spanish. I exit the cab and slam the door, hard. </div><div><br /></div><div>Bad idea. </div><div><br /></div><div>Cabbies here are super-sensitive about slamming their doors (as I was later told). The large, though overweight, cabbie jumps out of cab and comes at me in the middle of the street, kicking. Wtf? He kicks? I dodge four or five kicks, the security guard, unarmed, emerges from his booth to observe from a safe distance while telling the guy to calm down. Finally (what do we pay him for?) the guard gets between us and stops the kicking/dodging dance we're doing in the middle of the road. The taxista is pissed. Says I owe him 3000 for the damage to the cab (there is no damage). I'm a little unsettled by all this, so I tell him ok, I don't have any more money on me, but I'll go into my apt to get him money for the door. </div><div><br /></div><div>The smart move here is to enter my gated apt and not come out. The second smartest move is to get 3000 colones (about $6) pay the guy off and get him to leave. The least smart move is to get a handful of 50 colone coins that together add up to about 300-400 colones and take them out to the taxista and tell him this is what his door is worth. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thankfully all he did was throw them in my face and drive off screaming puta madre, etc. All I could manage was "igualmente a ti, pendejo!" The security guard was pissed, rightfully so, at me, and reminded me that many drivers, esp. of unlicensed cabs, are armed. Anyway, I'm an idiot, a lucky one, but one who learned his lesson. </div>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-28915042129954066282010-03-08T15:21:00.004-05:002010-03-08T15:36:40.773-05:00Photo Shop: The Taj Mahal<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GTxHf0MCzec/S5VeMrQ3pdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1oJfqdoERgY/s1600-h/DSC_0549.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446362896239404498" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GTxHf0MCzec/S5VeMrQ3pdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1oJfqdoERgY/s320/DSC_0549.JPG" /></a><br /><div>I had one day left over after a work trip in Varanasi, India. I was there to shoot a video for the Global Health Council’s annual conference for my organization. We are an international development NGO and we picked a program in Varanasi because it was compelling and it was a stunning ancient city on the <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/29154081@N04/4414830401/in/set-72157623450928321/">banks of the Ganges</a>. If others were going to do talking heads in offices, we were filming in fields, at temples, and on the Ganges. I have no idea if it will work out, the tapes are all of to London for some producer in a dark room to stuff into a template like the 12-15 other clients they sold on this.<br /><strong></strong></div><div><strong>TAKE THE TRAIN</strong>: My option was to fly back to Delhi and stay at the plush Hyatt Regency Delhi safely away from anything dangerous or interesting, or getting 204 kilometers south to Agra and see the Taj Mahal. I got a berth on the Bhopal Express out of Nizamuddin Station that I shared with an Indian man who migrated to the US and lived 50 miles from me and a retired colonel in the Indian military who plied us both with whiskey for the three hour train ride. I hopped off in Agra, they were overnighting to Bhopal – an apparently beautiful city with ancient buildings and also the site of the horrible gas incident caused by Union-Carbide that killed thousands (back in 1984). Apparently it’s quite pleasant they tell me. As the drinks continue there are promises of visits to faraway ranches in Dharamasala and dinners hosted in DC. Mobile numbers and emails are traded. They were two of the most interesting people I met on the trip. </div><div><br /><strong>GET MET AT THE STATION</strong>: I’m proper drunk as I jump off the slowly moving train with my two suitcases and my legs buckle and crash out in front of the hundreds of people I see sleeping at the train station. Nobody seems to notice and I’m met as I stand by a guide sent to me by the hotel to get me from the train station there safe and sound (apparently this doesn’t always go well). I look at the people sleeping and they are well dressed. I mean, shirts tucked into slacks and nice polished shoes. They’re just there sleeping, waiting on a train I guess, but not this one apparently. It still is a large station though as Agra gets a lot of traffic and there are lots of places for you to get lost, a common thought for me on this trip.</div><div><br />I get to the hotel in time to sleep for three hours before waking up at 4 a.m. to get to the Taj before sunrise. I had my tripod handy – that I brought all the way from DC through a week in Istanbul and one week in India – just for this morning.<br /><br /><strong>SUNRISE</strong>: Ample Google searches assured me that sunrise at the Taj Mahal was infinitely better than sunset because of many factors including light, fog rising off the reflecting pools, the lack of tourists, etc. I tip the hotel guide hefty to ensure my people are organized in time in the morning (driver and guide). Of course no one is there. They show up at 5:20 and tell me to relax that sunrise isn’t until 6:50 and we’ll be fine. We drive – excrutiatingly slowly – to the parking area where you must get tickets. My driver is still half asleep. Inside, two lines, one for Indians one for non-Indians. As you guessed, the line for non-Indians is much longer. That’s why you get a guide. But, you should get a guide that has some sharp elbows because this dude was getting rolled. We got our tickets after it seemed like every other guide and his little brother hooked up the 50 Swiss and Japanese tourists waiting in line. Then, we start walking to the gate. </div><br /><div><strong>GET A RICKSHAW</strong>: Scores of fat tourists were zipping past us toward the gate of the Taj as the sun was actually beginning to come up and the dark was beginning to light up. Argh!!! We’re missing it. I’m basically jogging while my guide is 30 yards behind me. By the time we get to the gate we’re maybe the 90th people in line. I was furious until I realized that although we were the 90th, there was at least 200 people behind us. It was busy. But if you want to be there early and get the magic shots without any people in front of you and the Taj, don’t walk from the ticket window!<br /></div><br /><div><strong>NO TRIPODS</strong>: This one makes sense really, it’s ancient marble that they don’t let you walk on with shoes (you must wear socks, go barefoot, or boot little snuggies over your shoes). They don’t want tripods gouging out holes in that marble. Even so, you won’t get it through the inspection at the gate. A quick list of items prohibited in my short time viewing the screening:<br />- tripods, cigarettes, lighters, matches, snickers bars, chewing gum, muffin<br />So unless you know someone special or plan on bribing the right guard, leave the tripod at the hotel. But that leads me to:<br /></div><br /><div><strong>GO TO THE NATURE PARK</strong>: There is a small nature walk about 5 minutes before you get to the Taj gate on the right. It costs 50 rupees per visitor and if you walk up until the very end, you have a view of the Taj, and the mosque together over some trees. You can set up a tripod and watch the buildings light up as the sun rises behind you and lights them up. Or, at least that’s what I was thinking after <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/29154081@N04/4415635964/">I saw that view at noon</a> after I battled with tourists for 4 hours at the Taj. My guide thought that would make up for the rough, earlier start we had. </div><br /><div>“You are happy now?”</div><br /><div>No, Shebi. I am not happy.<br /><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong>SUNRISE II</strong>: But it’s not Shebi’s fault. It’s the whole set up and the fact that the idiot guards at the Taj open the gates at a specific time no matter if the lunar cycle has moved on them and they are keeping you in line during the ABSOLUTE BEST TIME TO TAKE PHOTOS – which is maddening to think that hundreds of people like me traveled hundreds of kilometers and dragged their asses out of bed to take a photo of fog lifting from the Taj, unmolested with people gumming up the view and then be able to brag to friends and enemies about how they were there blah blah blah. But no! The guides must only let you in at 6:45 and then let people through in a trickle.</div><div><br /><strong>THE MONEY SHOT</strong>: I think the only way you are getting this mythical Google-alleged sunrise shot of the Taj, the fog (didn’t see any), the reflecting pools (were empty), is to do the following:<br /></div><div>- Get to the ticket office at 4:30 am (not your lobby, the ticket office about a kilometer from the gate).<br />- Keep the rickshaw driver who brought you to the ticket gate (or use him to get in the shorter Indian ticket line for your tickets and then he can drive you to the gate).<br />- Don’t have any of the items mentioned above on you or you will have to take them back to a locker (yup, at the ticket office, one kilometer away) so you can breeze through security.<br />- Run as fast as you can through the beautiful Great Gate (don’t look, it’s a distraction…focus!!) and run past the first reflecting pool (or pit) and hurdle the first bench and set up for a series of photos before you are greeted by others doing the same. You will maybe have 30-45 seconds so don’t drink a bunch of whiskey on the train the night before. </div><div><br />Or you can take your time, realize that a lot of effort is required for this endeavor and you could leisurely stroll the grounds and soak in the splendor. Ponder the fact that Shah Jahan built this shrine to his deceased wife Mumtaz Mahal. It’s so stunning it is surreal. People or not, it is worth seeing to ponder the work and detail of this place. There were plans by Jahan to build an identical Taj across the lawn, but in black marble – the Black Taj! He was overthrown by his son before the construction could begin. My head would explode if such a thing were to exist. The Taj itself is such a magnificent building – if word can even be used. If an identical one in black was parked right by it I couldn’t even fathom how incredible that would look. Damn you Aurangzeb (his son)!! </div><div><br />Enjoy your trip to the Taj. You will still get some <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/29154081@N04/4415627080/in/set-72157623450928321/">cool shots</a>. </div><div><br />*Oh, and organize this through a travel agency. You will get slaughtered if you try to navigate the Delhi rail stations if you’ve never been to India and don’t speak/read Hindi. </div><div><br />*PPS – Watch out for your guide’s hustle. He’ll take you to “authentic” marble shops where you’ll get the hard sell. Did you know the ACTUAL descendents of the craftsmen on the Taj work in THEIR shop??! What a coincidence, and I’m here talking to him. The salesman tells me since I’ve never been to India “the first time you are not a customer, you are my guest.” He then proceeds to sell me a $1200 USD marble slab that weighs about 200 pounds. “We ship by freight, you get in 12 weeks.” I ended up buying a smaller one because some of them were quite nice (and because they are very convincing salesman!). It’s just the first of many famous jewelry stores, restaurants, general stores, etc. that you will be steered toward unless you are firm up front that you aren’t interested. </div><div> </div><div></div><div>At least <em>my</em> marble slab came from kinfolk of Taj Mahal laborers. </div>Marvellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724402729341431268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-73648576276372468072010-03-03T11:28:00.004-05:002010-03-08T20:06:02.223-05:00words Spanish needs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S46Q_AnLZpI/AAAAAAAAAME/clkR2l8GzGM/s1600-h/spanish-yeye.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 192px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S46Q_AnLZpI/AAAAAAAAAME/clkR2l8GzGM/s200/spanish-yeye.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444448411707991698" border="0" /></a><br />In Spanish there is no word for "helpful," as in, "thanks, you´ve been very helpful." You can say "útil," but that´s really more like "useful." "Amable" is more like "friendly." "Me da mucho ayuda," is "you give me lots of help," but the adjective just doesn´t exist. I´m looking at you, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Real_Academia_Espa%C3%B1ola">Royal Academy of Spanish</a>, get on it.<br /><br />Second, there´s no way to say, "I am looking forward to... meeting you in person, our lunch, the hearing, spring, etc." "Esperar" is an overworked verb than can mean to wait, to hope, or to expect (which is another problem), but it doesn´t really express the idea of looking forward to something.<br /><br />Third, Spanish needs a verb for "realize," rather than having to use "darse cuenta de," which sort of means to give oneself account of something. Más venir.<div><br /></div><div>addendum: Mar 7</div><div><br /></div><div>Spanish has no verb for "to borrow." "Prestar" means to lend but there is no verb for the action of borrowing. You can't say "I borrowed $5 from him." You have to say "He lent me $5."</div><div><br /></div><div>Siguiente, the verb "gastar" is asked to do too much. It means both "to spend" and "to waste." So, the sentence, "Yo gasté cincuenta dolares en escoces," means either "I spent $50 on scotch" or "I wasted $50 on scotch." Quite different meanings, which the listener/reader has to figure out from context. True, you could use "malgastar" for "waste." Any spanish speakers know which is more common?</div>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-65787567334039111622010-03-02T13:37:00.004-05:002010-03-02T13:47:00.694-05:00Texasin honor of the day (and UT´s nice win over OU last night):<br /><br />"I have said that Texas is a state of mind, but I think it is more than that. It is a mystique closely approximating a religion. And this is true to the extent that people either passionately love Texas or passionately hate it and, as in other religions, few people dare to inspect it for fear of losing their bearings in mystery or paradox. But I... See More think there will be little quarrel with my feeling that Texas is one thing. For all its enormous range of space, climate, and physical appearance, and for all the internal squabbles, contentions, and strivings, Texas has a tight cohesiveness perhaps stronger than any other section of America. Rich, poor, Panhandle, Gulf, city, country, Texas is the obsession, the proper study and the passionate possession of all Texans." - John Steinbeck, 1962<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S41cWTH7oaI/AAAAAAAAAL8/ix8Gfv0zAdQ/s1600-h/lone-star-beer-21136642.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S41cWTH7oaI/AAAAAAAAAL8/ix8Gfv0zAdQ/s400/lone-star-beer-21136642.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444109062721216930" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S41cWOPUKYI/AAAAAAAAAL0/flXrxEmPvrA/s1600-h/dancart34641.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 289px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S41cWOPUKYI/AAAAAAAAAL0/flXrxEmPvrA/s400/dancart34641.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444109061410007426" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S41cV_Oa5YI/AAAAAAAAALs/6NxIlxFBBI4/s1600-h/texas_pride_poster.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 326px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S41cV_Oa5YI/AAAAAAAAALs/6NxIlxFBBI4/s400/texas_pride_poster.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444109057379722626" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S41cVfptr1I/AAAAAAAAALk/kcYzK534iyA/s1600-h/album-texas-flood.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/S41cVfptr1I/AAAAAAAAALk/kcYzK534iyA/s400/album-texas-flood.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444109048904265554" /></a>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-81204288634039212492010-03-02T13:32:00.001-05:002010-03-02T13:36:12.325-05:00¿por qué no hay notas en Cruz recientemente?Has facebook usurped Cruz Bustamante? Is Marvelle too busy globetrotting to share? How much longer can bda use the fact that his laptop got jacked out of a hostel in Guadalajara for not writing (esp. now that he has a new one)?bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-35927175252589423802010-01-05T23:27:00.001-05:002010-01-05T23:27:59.352-05:00free poverty<div style="width:220px;"><center><OBJECT classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" WIDTH="220" HEIGHT="200" id="fpMovie"><PARAM NAME="movie" VALUE="http://www.freepoverty.com/swf/banner2.swf?ID=0731102982863817394"><PARAM NAME="quality" VALUE="high"><PARAM NAME="bgcolor" VALUE="#ffffff"><EMBED src="http://www.freepoverty.com/swf/banner2.swf?ID=0731102982863817394" quality="high" bgcolor="#ffffff" WIDTH="220" HEIGHT="200"NAME="fpMovie" ALIGN="" TYPE="application/x-shockwave-flash" PLUGINSPAGE="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></EMBED></OBJECT><a href="http://www.freepoverty.com" style="text-decoration:none;"><img src="http://www.freepoverty.com/images/donate_now.png" width="121" height="33" style="border:none;"></a></center></div>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-34554268646413412252009-12-14T20:47:00.002-05:002009-12-14T21:19:27.805-05:00navidad en el zócalo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/Sybu1PVggXI/AAAAAAAAALY/ySQwNqWMBhI/s1600-h/DSC01945.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/Sybu1PVggXI/AAAAAAAAALY/ySQwNqWMBhI/s400/DSC01945.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415278200376820082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/Sybu0v8mhDI/AAAAAAAAALQ/E5NWCydIwTg/s1600-h/DSC01940.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/Sybu0v8mhDI/AAAAAAAAALQ/E5NWCydIwTg/s400/DSC01940.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415278191950857266" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/Sybu0U4WOQI/AAAAAAAAALI/Sl9melG6dmo/s1600-h/DSC01949.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/Sybu0U4WOQI/AAAAAAAAALI/Sl9melG6dmo/s400/DSC01949.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415278184685254914" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/Sybuz3pCpII/AAAAAAAAALA/1qn9u6oFd1o/s1600-h/DSC01937.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/Sybuz3pCpII/AAAAAAAAALA/1qn9u6oFd1o/s400/DSC01937.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415278176836428930" /></a>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-48386601700329358872009-12-02T16:42:00.005-05:002009-12-04T10:01:19.613-05:00neighborhood cleanup<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/Sxbf4EbX4JI/AAAAAAAAAK0/47iAOLRfRbw/s1600-h/DSC00430.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/Sxbf4EbX4JI/AAAAAAAAAK0/47iAOLRfRbw/s400/DSC00430.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410758156686450834" /></a><br />walking through a random neighborhood, I saw this sign, which reads:<br />"All the neighbors are invited to participate in the service day of cleaning and should just show up Sunday the 4th of October starting at 7 am. Meeting point: the little garden of the neighborhood. Bring brooms, machetes, etc.<br />"This same informs you all that Monday, the 5th of October at 5 pm we will make the delivery of the food pantry. Bring your respective credentials to the little garden of the neighborhood. <br />"Attention: Comvive y ACO"bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-18788078138843330192009-11-26T20:19:00.001-05:002009-11-26T20:21:00.534-05:00advice on facebook for parentsthe capital T knows his <a href="http://backwardsfrom30.blogspot.com/2009/11/facebook-strategy-for-parents-of-tweens.html">shit</a>. and how the mierda is texas down?bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12341121.post-92159964270120253522009-11-25T22:18:00.002-05:002009-11-25T22:28:29.220-05:00secret far-right society infiltrates government?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/Sw31srmgn9I/AAAAAAAAAKs/V-3O5bn3EK8/s1600/anvil5a.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 103px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwx8I5fLQ2U/Sw31srmgn9I/AAAAAAAAAKs/V-3O5bn3EK8/s200/anvil5a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408248875509129170" /></a><br />Nope, it's not a story of the Bush Administration, but rather <a href="http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/news/world/stories/070907dnintanvil.38f268a.html">El Yunque</a> in México. <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 13px; "><p style="margin-top: 5px; margin-right: 2px; margin-bottom: 13px; margin-left: 1px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; ">A secret organization born in the Cold War and determined to overthrow an authoritarian government outlives the regime and instead begins to undermine a democratically elected administration in hopes of installing a modern theocracy.</p><p style="margin-top: 5px; margin-right: 2px; margin-bottom: 13px; margin-left: 1px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; ">Luis Paredes Moctezuma, the former mayor of Puebla in central Mexico, said that very scenario exists in the administration of President Felipe Calderón and the National Action Party, or PAN. He asserted that the party has been slowly infiltrated by the radical group over decades.</p></span></div>bdahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11364891812919308817noreply@blogger.com3