The Criolla

Teo, April 3, 2015

On Tuesday, we went on a little trip to a rodeo in Montevideo.  The rodeo is called the criolla, and it happens every year in the week before Easter.  It was very crowded when we got off the bus, and it was too loud.  I thought my ears were going to explode into a thousand pieces.  There were people trying to give us fliers about political candidates.  So we walked down the street a little bit, and went through some gates, and then we got to the ticket booth.  Our mom bought some tickets for us and we went inside a big fairgrounds.  There were lots of people trying to sell things like t-shirts, gaucho hats, saddles, and lots of cheap toys.

We went into the arena where there were lots of people, and we got ourselves a seat.  Right as we got there, they started the event.  There was a guy who was talking gibberish on the loudspeaker; you couldn't hear anything he said.  He was announcing the gauchos, and at that very moment, a gaucho rode out with the Uruguayan flag, and rode as fast as he could on his horse, making a circle around the ring.  The crowd was clapping and cheering.

A few minutes later, two gauchos came out with a wild horse.  A competitor got on the horse and a bell went ding-ding-ding, and the horse took off.  It was flinging around and jumping up and down, trying to get the guy off.  Then another ding-ding-ding and the same two people who had brought out the horse rode up right next to the wild horse and the competitor jumped onto one of the guy's horses and the wild horse ran straight out of the ring.

We watched the same thing for an hour or so.  Sometimes the rider got thrown off, and the crowd gasped and then applauded.

There was a break and so we got out of our seats and looked around the fair.  Javy played a game where you took a balloon out of a machine and each balloon had a number inside. The number told what little trinket you would get.  Javy got a wristband and a wallet.  He really wanted the wristband, and he was really happy after he got it.

When we got back to the arena, we took our seats again and this time I noticed that the competitors were not using saddles.  These horses were wilder than the others, and more of the competitors were being thrown off.  We watched for a little bit longer, and then we decided to leave.  We left the fairgrounds and got on a bus and went home.

The Adventure in the Cave

Javy, March 30, 2015

Today we went to a cave.  We waited until the cave guide was ready for us.  Then we talked some about the cave and where the water came from and where it goes.  If you have been reading our blog, when we were at Ecoparque, the river there was the water that came from this cave, so that was pretty neat.  I can't believe I was swimming in bat poo.  I learned the word guano, which means bat poo.*  

We walked up a trail and then our journey into the cave began.  I was in front of the group, with the guide and some other people.  Teo and Mom and Dad were in the back.  I felt like an explorer.  

As we all know, caves are dark.  This cave was extremely dark.  And the worst part about it was that it smelled like poo.  And I swear that when I was going down, I felt some poo on the railing and it was disgusting.  The steps were very mossy, which meant very slippery.  We got down without breaking a bone, and I waited for my family to come down.  Then when we all got down there, the tour guide talked in Spanish and chattered on, and then he turned out the lights.  You could see nothing, and I thought I was in another dimension.  I felt like I was a ghost.  The disturbing part about the cave was that there were bats that flew around your head.  The fact was that there were vampire bats (mwah-ha-ha-ha-ha) as well as fruit bats.  You could feel their wings fluttering around, and you could hear them whining.

Then the guide turned the lights back on and he pointed out the crickets.  They are white like  ghosts. The interesting thing about the crickets was that they have no eyes.  They eat something that people do not eat.  They eat bat poo.

After the tour was over, we went to the restaurant right next to the cave.  The guide turned out to be our waiter, too.  We found out that he was in the Olympics.  We thought that was pretty cool.  He ran in the Olympics in Spain in 1992, and four years later, when the Olympics were in Atlanta, he was a coach for the Uruguay track team.   We talked to him a little bit and we ordered some food and ate, and then we left.  

We saw gauchos on the way home, and lots of horses and cows.  Then we rode home and did some school work and took a walk on the beach.  It was a great day!

*Note from Marilyn:  And I learned that the word guano, which is the same in English as in Spanish, comes from Quechua, an indigenous language spoken in the Andes Mountains by the Inca and others.  

Palm Sunday on a Uruguayan Mount of Olives

Marilyn, March 29, 2105

What a great day we had today, doing something I never would have guessed would be part of our experience in Uruguay.  We joined several of Gene's colleagues and their families, plus 30 or so other people, and harvested olives together.  The woman with whom Gene is working and her husband own a large piece of beautiful land in the hills northeast of Montevideo, and four years ago planted many acres in olive trees.  Many other landowners in the area also grow olives, and the press where they are all turned into olive oil is available to each farmer only an a specific day.  Carlos and Ana's day is tomorrow (Monday), and since their workers have weekends off, they needed friends to volunteer to come bring the olives in off the trees.  Lured by the offer of lunch, interesting company, and a unique experience, we were more than happy to sign on.

The morning was clear and gorgeous as we drove through the countryside about an hour and a half from Atlántida, and the view was itself well worth the drive.  We arrived at Ana and Carlos's beautiful house and before long were on our way to join the others in the orchard.

Tarps were laid under the rows of olive trees, and Ana showed us how to strip the olives from the branches, letting them fall onto the tarps.  It reminded me a bit of picking blueberries, with two major differences.  First, it didn't matter what color the olives were, green, pinkish, or dark purple.  Any of them will press to produce oil.  Second, there was no temptation to pop these in our mouths as we harvested.  In fact, Gene tried one and ended up with a bellyache.  

The trees themselves don't offer any hazards to harvesters, no thorns or pesky insects.  However, we pricked ourselves more than once on the spiky grass between the rows, and twice we disturbed some large, beautiful, green caterpillars who make their homes in the trees.  A certain biologist in the group had a large audience as he explained in slow, simple English all about the caterpillars and their defence mechanisms.  

The highest branches of the trees were just within the reach of the tallest harvesters, and many olives hung on the low branches, perfect for the shorter member of the crew.  

Olive production is definitely a family enterprise for Ana and Carlos's extended family, and even the youngest members, like their granddaughter Juana, have a role to play.  

Once all the trees in the row were harvested, the tarps were gathered up like slings holding the mounds of olives, and they were poured into the waiting crates.  

Around noon, we all headed back to the house for lunch.  Chairs and a mattress or two were pulled out; hotdogs, sandwiches, and typical Uruguayan finger foods were served.  A few people enjoyed a legitimate siesta, the young jovenes played soccer, and many others of us sat and chatted for an hour or so.  I really enjoyed talking with a colleague of Gene's, and Teo and Javy latched onto her sons and discovered that they were eager to practice English.  In fact, one of the best parts of the whole wonderful day was that my boys had such a great time with these kind kids.

A couple more hours of afternoon picking finished the job up, and we returned to the house for merienda, or afternoon snack, and more socializing.   My Spanish got a great work-out in conversation with a really interesting woman who is studying cooperatives of all sorts and who also plays the saxophone.  Before we left, Ana thanked us for our help and gifted us with an olive branch. 

 She explained that besides being a memento from the day, the gift was also significant because today is the Sunday before Easter, when Jesus rode into Jerusalem, and people waved olive branches.  Surprised, I commented that in North America, the people waved palm branches.  She said yes, but olive branches, too, go back and read the story.  So I did.  I found that while two gospels mention palm branches specifically, there are other references to "other branches" and to "branches from the fields."  I'm happy to assume that the fields were olive groves, and I know that this is an Olive Sunday that I will always remember.  

Riding Horses (Yee-haw!)

Teo, March 25, 2015

Last Friday, Javy and I went on a little trip to ride horses with our old Spanish teacher.  She drove up in a convertible with the roof pulled down, and Javy and I hopped in and we sped off down the road.  When we got to the farm to ride horses, we were greeted by many dogs.  There were little pigs and a huge pig in a little pen, too.

There were some horses lined up waiting for us, and a few minutes after we got there, we each got on a horse.  We went along the path and we saw train tracks that our old Spanish teacher said were there one hundred years ago.  We rode for a long time and saw lots of cows.  I thought riding the horse was pretty cool, but it made my bottom hurt.

When we got back to the horse stables, Javy and I got off the horses and we saw a cow skull.  So our Spanish teacher said, "If you want the skull, you can take it."

Later we learned that José Artigas, who is like the George Washington of Uruguay, used a cow skull for his chair.  Here is a picture of Artigas himself sitting on a cow skull.

The Bus Adventures

Javy, March 19, 2015

Yesterday, we went to Montevideo with Megan and Ryan's family.  We went on the bus.  The bus was very cramped.  There were no seats.  A seat came open for us.  Ryan took it and then our mom sat down and Teo sat down in the middle and I sat on our mom's lap.  I wish that I wasn't on that bus.
We finally got to the big bus station.  There was a mall there.  We explored the mall.  It was not very big.  Then we went down and sat and waited for Megan and Ryan's bus to come.  They were going to an estancia, and we came to say goodbye to time.  Teo and Mom and I waved goodbye and we started walking toward our friend's house.  We got there and one of the housemates that we stayed with for awhile let us in.  We talked for awhile and then she called our other friend, Perla.  Perla came and told us about visiting a lot of places in the United States because her son got married in Arizona last month.  We talked for awhile and then we were saying goodbye, but Teo and I were very hungry, and she ran to a little shop right next to her house and got us some ice cream.  The ice cream was very good.

Then we walked to a bus stop and got on a bus and I was thrilled that there were seats available.  We went and went until we got off at this big plaza.  We walked around and went into a book store.  Teo got some books and I got nothing.  The bookstore man told us that there was a museum that was good for kids.  We walked over, but our mom had no idea who this artist was that the museum was about, so we decided not to go, and we went to another museum.  We walked and walked and walked and then we finally got to a plaza after almost getting smashed by a car.  We sat down and looked and there was a fountain with sculptures of some baby nudists who were really showing their parts.  Then we wanted to go to the museum, so we walked down and down the street, but we didn't know where the museum was.  So we went another way and we found it.  We explored a little bit.  The bathroom was very smelly because someone really cleaned it nice.  Trust me, it smelled like soap.

Then we went into some other parts of the big museum and then we thanked the people and we left.  We went on another bus.  Our dad had some friends who had set up a brain fair to teach kids about the brain.  We went and tried some cool stuff out and our dad introduced us to his colleagues.  Then we walked into a theater and sat down and watched a play about ants and cockroaches.   It was part of the brain fair.  I never understood one bit of it, only the word "banana."  When we got out, it was dark and we played on a playground that had a spinny thing.  You would spin it up and go as fast as lightning.

We got on another bus that was not as crowded as the first bus, at least for awhile.  But on the way back to our house, we passed another bus that was broken down.  Our bus driver stopped and picked up the people from the broken down bus.  But there were already a lot of people on our bus and they tried to cram in everyone.  Teo and I finally got a seat, with one of us sitting on the bottom and one of us sitting on the top.  It was miserable.  Then the guy who was sitting next to us got off, and that made a difference in my life.  I sat down in his seat for about four minutes and then we got off the bus.  Then we walked home and went to sleep and it was happily ever after.

Costaventura and Aventuras de la Costa

Marilyn, March 17, 2015

We've had the pleasure of spending the last week with our friends Karen, John, Megan, and Ryan from Atlanta.  It feels pretty special that they would travel all this way to see us, and we are making the most of their time here.  The kids have spent a lot of time biking around our neighborhood and hanging out at the beach.  One day we rented a canoe and a kayak and spent some time on a nearby river, discovering a sandbar full of crabs and watching huge flocks of water birds rise up as we paddled by.

Happy, our friends' visit coincided with Teo and Javy's tenth birthday on March 12.  Clearly, a rather extraordinary celebration was warranted.  A couple weeks ago, I had heard about a new adventure park not far from Atlántida called Costaventura.  I was pleased and a bit surprised to read on their website that they would be open weekdays in March, after the theoretical end of tourist season and the start of the school year.  I've learned enough about how things work in Uruguay, though, to know that I should call to confirm that good news.  When I did, I found out what I had suspected all along:  it's only open to the public on weekends.  However, I was told, they could open for groups of 10 or more by special arrangement on weekdays.  Ten or more?  Well, we were eight . . . and it turned out that that was enough.  Next problem:  the minimum height for most of the activities is 1.4 meters.  The birthday boys are shy of that mark by a good bit.  The congenial man I talked to on the phone, half in English and half in Spanish, assured me that it would be fine.   I confirmed with him in both languages that it would indeed be fine, confirmed again in writing via email, trustingly made the arrangements, and hoped for the best.

The best turned out to be pretty incredibly good.  We had only a minor glitch getting to the park, remedied by an unusually nice bus driver who pulled the bus over to ask a passerby which way we needed to walk after he let us off.  We arrived a little after the appointed hour and were met by Mateo, our host and guide for the day.  After outfitting us with all the equipment we needed for the ropes course, he gave us a safety lesson and we were off, climbing and swinging and tight-roping and zip-lining our way through 15 or so activities over the next hour.

It was great, full of new skills and fun challenges.  When we all landed back on the ground, we headed over to the trampolines.  The harnesses we wore allowed us to jump several meters and even the most ancient of us could flip dizzyingly forward and backwards.

The next activity was the craziest.  Teo and Ryan harnessed up and took the first turn, climbing up to a high beam, and whacking each other with foam pool noodles.  Ryan was the victor, knocking Teo off the beam, leaving him hanging about ten meters in the air.  Megan and Javy were up next, then Teo took on Gene.

Karen, John, and I all declined to participate in that particular activity, but we were brave enough join the kids on the next one, in which we were one by one raised up to a height of about twelve meters, allowed to free-fall briefly, and then swing back and forth like a pendulum.  There was a lot of screaming involved, but most of us agreed that it was awfully fun.

Having completed the activities that were most likely to induce queasiness, it was a good time to stop for lunch.  The café there at the park served us ravioli, which was a big hit.

The next event involved two teams working together to build towers of soda crates.  Each team's builder stacked the crates from the top of tower while two teammates held the ropes to his or her harness, and the fourth team member handed or threw the crates up to the builder.  Megan and Karen proved to be the most skillful builders, stacking ten or twelve crates.

Mateo told us that the record for the park was 33 crates, which was pretty hard to imagine.  When everyone had tumbled off the crate towers enough times, we headed for the dirt bike course, which turned out to be even more challenging and scary than some of the other activities.

We finished up with another circuit on the ropes course, and enjoyed a hearty snack back at the café. Very satisfied, we said our goodbyes to the accommodating staff, and headed for the bus stop

Getting back home was an adventure in itself, with a wait of about an hour and a half for the bus, but everyone thankfully remained in good spirits.  Empanadas for dinner and present-opening completed a most memorable day for two very tired birthday boys.

The next morning, we scurried around packing and taking care of details like changing money before getting ourselves into our rental cars and on the road east along the coast.  About three hours later, we arrived at our destination:  a bridge over a small river, around which were several ramshackle buildings and a few fishing boats.  Out of one of the buildings wandered a sleepy, disheveled-looking fellow who confirmed that yes, he was Marco, the guide that I had made arrangements with via text messages for a tour of the nearby ombú forest.  A couple of the kids needed to use the bathroom, so he led them to the back of his cluttered room, lifted a door off its hinges, and showed them to the toilet.  None of them liked the looks of it much, but were assured by Karen that there are many, many worse toileting facilities in the world.  Somehow in the intervening minutes, Marco transformed himself into a cheerful, energetic, and professional tour guide, and sat us down to explain, in Spanish, his work caring for the baby ombú trees in this area.  He's a living Lorax, this man, with a passion for these unusual trees and their ecosystem.  He patiently repeated himself as many times as necessary, making sure we understood his words and the importance of his work, gesturing to the kids and explaining that his vision was a healthy ombú forest that their grandchildren could come visit.  When he was assured that we understood, he called to a boat captain, shepherded us into a motorboat, and
we were off down the river.  The fifteen-minute ride afforded us some glorious scenery of the Uruguayan prairie and numerous sightings of waterbirds.

A few cows grazed right down to the water's edge, nosing their way between ibises and herons.  Marco explained that all this land is protected and owned by native Uruguayans who are committed to its conservation.  They have learned that the prairie can only support a few cattle, and they are careful not to overgraze it.

We docked in front of a half-completed structure that Marco told us was being built as a lodge for eco-tourists.  Two carpenters continued their work on the building as several dogs came out to greet us, and it was easy to see what spectacular potential this place has, isolated as it is on the river and on the prairie under an amazing blue sky.  Marco led us to the back of the property and into a large grove of ombú trees.  These plants, which some classify as shrubs rather than trees, can live for 200 or more years.  They grow layers of very soft wood which decomposes easily from the inside out, leaving hollow trunks growing in odd shapes.

One hollow branch made a great hiding place for a possum, who was none too happy about being discovered.

The trees tend to grow in clusters (Marco says that the idea that they are solitary is folklore) and the trunks can intertwine, creating even more unusual forms.

These two trees, Marco told us, are tangoing, so Karen and John decided to join in.

By the time our hour-long hike was over, I had a great appreciation for the ombú and its adaptive ability, but even more for Marco and his commitment to these trees and to the land that they occupy.

In Uruguay, the law says that if you're driving, even in the daytime, your lights must be on.  Newly arrived drivers from the U.S. tend to either forget to turn them on, and risk being stopped by the police, or forget to turn them off.  Both of our drivers, in fact, left their lights on the whole time we were off learning about ombú trees, and one of them arrived back to a car that wouldn't start.  Marco joined John and Javy in push-starting our car, and we were all very grateful when the engine came back to life.  Marco waved us on our way and an hour later, when we pulled into the parking lot at Cabo Polonio National Park, both drivers confirmed with the other that lights were in fact off.

Cabo Polonio is a small village at the tip of a cape that juts out into the Atlantic.  It's popular with surfers and others looking for off-the-beaten-track adventures.  It is so far off the beaten track, in fact, that the only ways to get there are on foot, horseback, boat, or 4x4 trucks that transport you about 7 km over the sand dunes.  We opted for the last method, bought our tickets for the 4x4, loaded on our bags and ourselves, and enjoyed a bouncy 20 minute ride to the little town.

After unloading, we had a brief walk though the "streets" of town to the hotel where we had reservations.  We were shown to our very small but pleasant rooms, and then were delighted to find that the hotel's terrace opened onto the beach and came equipped with hammocks and comfy chairs in which to sit and watch the waves.

The kids enjoyed both the hammocks and the waves for much of the afternoon, and when the sky got dark and the stars came out, it was downright magical.  A late dinner included very fresh fish and buñuelos de algas, a local specialty that is like a hushpuppy made with seaweed.

The next morning, we headed down the beach to the lighthouse, and the rocks surrounding it, where one of the largest colonies of sea lions in South America has established itself.  We were expecting thousands of sea lions, but most of them seemed to not be home that morning.  Nevertheless, we were excited to watch a few dozen bob through the water or sun themselves on the rocks.

Karen, the kids, and I payed a small fee to climb to the top of the lighthouse.  The view was amazing, and as we waved down to John and Gene, they hollered up to us that they had spotted a whale.  Sure enough, as we looked out over the water, we could see a sleek black shape with a dorsal fin rising out of the water.  Now we're wondering whether what we saw was actually a large black dolphin called a tonina that is occasionally seen in the area.

After another hour or so of rock climbing and beach combing and a lunch of more empanadas, we again boarded the 4x4 for the trip back over the dunes.  This time, we got a double-decker truck, and the kids got to sit up top.  We bounced our way to our car and before long were back on solid asphalt, headed to Punta del Diablo.  Our family had visited this beach town in December when Luke was with us; it was fun being back and feeling like we knew our way around a bit.

Our two days at Punta del Diablo were filled with a return visit to Karumbe, the sea turtle rescue and rehabilitation place, exploring Santa Teresa National Park with its wildlife rehabilitation area and its old fort, surfing lessons, pool time for the kids, and a bit of relaxation for the grownups.  Back home now from this quick and full vacation with good friends, and I am feeling deeply blessed by both!  (And I am also grateful to Karen for many of the photos I've included here!)

The Crazy Adventure on the River of Doom

Javy, March 8, 2015

Yesterday, we went to our second sailing class.  We put together the boats by putting on metal poles to hold the sails and strapping them on and tying the knots so that when we were on the boat, it wouldn't fall apart.  We pushed the boats into the water and three lucky kids got to go in.  The rest of us got into the speedboat and waited our turn to sail.

When my turn came,  I went off and the wind was sweet.  And here comes the wild story.  I was on the boat, going 300 miles per hour in below freezing water.  I did a swift turn but the mast was coming right toward me head.  I ducked and went into the water.  I shivered like crazy.  Me crew helped me up.  I flopped onto the belly of the speedboat.  This one lass kept on pouring water onto me.  I was a tortured little soul that was getting drenched by this forsaken lass.

But here is what really happened.  I was on the boat, and I made a made a very swift turn and boat went over on its side and I crawled on top of it, and then I fell back in the water.  Teo helped me up into the speedboat.  What I carried was very silly.  It was a sponge.  I put it in the speedboat and a little girl in our class dipped it into the water and kept on soaking me with the sponge.  An hour later, I dried off in the sun while my mom and dad and Teo and I were eating chicken nuggets with French fries, also known as papas frtias, at a restaurant.