Grand theft larceny

Hello, everyone.

Right now it's about 7:45 Wednesday night. My belly's nice and full after eating a scrumptious dinny consisting of fantabulous chicken soup, a plate of chicken cooked in a light brothy/saucy thing and some fresh squeezed OJ. The best OJ I've ever tasted. On the food front, today's supper may have been one of the best all around meals I've had here in town.

I was supposed to enjoy my supper after doing some exercises on the jungle gym outside, but, I got a bit sidetracked. I came home, kicked off my boots and started to get changed into my warmups when I figured I ought to set my alarm for tomorrow morning since I was thinking about it. I pull open the nightstand drawer to set my cell phone alarm, but there's no telephony in there. I move things around, open the bottom drawer. Still no phone. It dawned on me that I could call myself and listen for the ring. Negatory...not a sound except for the bread man honking his blasted clown horn as he pedaled by the hotel. Pilfered, petty theft...call it what you want...that phone got swiped. Considering the phone is 3 years old, doesn't take any pictures and can't store any MP3s, it's not that major of a loss. I had quite a few numbers stored in that joker, though. I apologize in advance if you get an email from me in the next few weeks asking for your digits or if I seem completely dumbfounded when, for example, I find out I called Kathryn instead of my Asian brutha from anotha mutha KC.

Besides noticing that a kleptomaniac is cleaning my hotel room, I've noticed a few more things heading back and forth to work the last few days. At this point it seems fair to say that as a former cyclist, I've noticed many of the local Chinchuana's (folks from Chincha) ride bikes with their saddles at the correct height or too high even. Back in the states, I'd say that more than half of the folks that ride have their saddles too low. I'm quite impressed. Not only because the the locals set their saddles to the right height, but the simple fact that they have the ghoulies to ride on these roads!

The other thing that's become quite apparent is the recent lack of sunlight. Heavy misty fog has found it's way to the Peruvian coast. Days have been damp and gray with enough of a chill to add an extra layer. The once parched sandy landscape sand now sticks to boots and cakes to the undersides of work trucks and power equipment. The beach site seems to be a few degrees cooler than the office area, located just a few kilometers away. As you are all welcoming the warmth and longer days back at home, the South American winter is slowly making itself at home here.

I suppose it's time to catch up on a thing or two and then hit the hay. Adios.

Scotty

I'm toast...

Hello, folks.

I'm one tired kid. I've found a few mistakes in some of my writing and done some other absent-minded things that indicate I need a break from the action. I'm taking tonight off, you could say. That should get me back into the swing of things for the morrow.

I found out that Christian was greeted with a family dilemma when he got home over the weekend. He's been pretty low and hasn't had a whole lot to say. Usually he's quick to laugh and shake his head when I try to be funny in Spanish, but not so much the last couple days. If you remember, a few syllables to JC on his behalf might go a long way.

I found out that there is a same day laundry service at the jobsite. It might even be free! Why do I find out about these things after the fact? Us bald Polish types with last names starting with the letter "Z" really have it tough sometimes.

Time to go have a chat session with a good friend and then eat some dinny and call it a night. God bless.

Scotty

You Tube Rocks!

Hey, everyone.


How are you all doing? Officially two weeks until I head back towards yous guyses neck of the woods. I think when six weeks comes up, I'll definitely be ready for a break. Things have been really busy the last few days. The first round of testing started on Friday. Quite a haphazard ordeal, and one ring short of a circus, but it got done. The contractor didn't work today, so I stayed at the hotel and worked for about half of it from here. I told Christian to fly the coop, so he went home yesterday towards the end of the day. He has a wife and a three year old son. To be three hours from your family, but not able to see them for four weeks can't be easy. Hopefully he got to enjoy a little break from the routine here in Chincha and at the site. I bummed a ride from one of the many trucks that form the caravan from Chincha to the jobsite every day. Christian and I have offered and given many rides before. They owed us one.

Today, I turned over a new leaf in my life...I really dove into the You Tube experience. I found a website that lists the top 100 songs of the year for the last umpteen years and I searched for them on You Tube. Unbelievable! They've got everything on there. I listened to songs and saw videos that I haven't heard or seen in 20 years! I was loving it. New Edition, Human League, Night Ranger, Skid Row, Sheriff!!! Now that's what I'm talkin about! You name it, they've got it. It made me realize just how crappy the music in the early 90s was. I also pulled some oldies up from back in the days of ice boxes and malt shops...I never knew just how many songs the likes of Paul Anka and Dion made that I've heard before. The scratchy black and white video footage was pretty neat too. I listened to enough music from so many genres that I could have hosted my own Time Life Doo-Wop to Hair Bleechin and Geetar Screechin infomercial.


Thursday night I came home from work, putzed around a bit and realized that there weren't any fresh towels in the room...there weren't any old towels in the room, for that matter. I shrugged it off and figured I'd grab one when I got up to take a shower. The alarm beeps at me, I give it the ole traditional snooze and five minutes later, it's buzzin at me again. I pull my carcass out of the sack and make my way down the open-aired stair well to the hotel office to pick up a towel, halfway down trying to figure out if I put my britches on backwards or not. I wasn't surprised when I didn't find anyone there. I made my way back towards the laundry room area and found a lady working and asked for a towel. "One minute" she said, as I started to get my wits about me, confirming that my pants were on the right way. A minute later she comes out and says..."No towels." No towels!?! as I do a charade of wiping my face and back in thin air. No luck. What the hell is that? I trod up the stairs and knock on Christian's door and ask if he had an extra towel...the hosers left him empty too! I got back to my room, stripped the bedsheet and improvised. That's not all though...on Wednesday morning, I turned in my laundry assured of a two day turnaround. I was told that by Friday evening, my clothes would be ready. Perfect. Friday evening came...Friday evening went. Saturday came...and yep, Saturday went. I had myself a 10 minute conversation with the cute gal working in the office last night trying to figure out if they lost my clothes or what was going on. I didn't understand a flippin thing she was talking about except for when she'd say por favor, senor" (please sir) with just a hint of grin sneaking onto her face. At 8:20 this morning my door knocks and through the paper thin walls I heard the crackle and bustle of a plastic bag and knew that I'd have clean under-roos to wear.




So ends another day here. Enjoy your holiday. I'll catch you all on the flipside.


Scotty

My Spanish is not so good looking...

Well, in my last post I wrote that I at the "gold of a cow" not the "heart of a cow". Just to close the loop here, I should have said "corazon".

Lo siento!

Scotty

Health Hazards...

What's the good word?


I can't think of a good word now, but a bad word comes to mind...lunch. I think it's safe to say that most people look forward to their lunch hour. Since I've been on this gig, I look forward to lunch less each day. Yes, the camp I work in has a cafeteria and yes the objects placed on my plate look and even smell something like food, but ah contraire, don't be fooled. They could very well be serving us gruel and at this point, I wouldn't even notice. No matter what they cook, whether it be chicken, "beef", or the Krusty Brand pork products...it all smells the same and more scarey than that, it nearly all tastes the same. I now have a better appreciation for what the WWII vets referred to as sh*t on a shingle. I can't pick up everything the lunch ladies say when I'm standing in line being served, but I'm convinced they're asking me, "Do you want potatoes with your grissle?" One constant edible lifesaver is the enriched bleached staple known as white rice. Every once in awhile they'll throw in some lentils or beans. You know, just to mix it up and give us lowly folk a little hope in the goodness of humanity.

What really chaps my arse is that my client's employees get to special order their lunches. Anything they want, they get. The rest of us get served the concoctions called lomo saltado or crema de pavo. On the grounds of principle, I refused to special order my lunches. I'm on this job as the eyes and ears for the owner to oversee the construction of a $250 million trestle that will transport $25 million of liquefied natural gas to container ships every week. I cannot do what I do for them without the help of Christian, my driver. Yet, they tell me that I can have a special ordered lunch, but Christian can't because he's not an "official" employee!?" "Only employees can get the special order" I was told. Well, amigo, offically I'm not one of your employees either and if my driver can't get a half-way decent lunch to fill his belly, then neither can I. What a crock of malarkey. The food is terrible.

Talking about food, I found myself eating something you don't find at Jimmy John's or Mamma Lucia's. Christian, a few other Golder folk working on the same project, and I went to a resturant known for their grilled chicken and steaks tonight. I ordered the chicken and it was pretty tasty. There were also a few skewers of beef on a plate that the fellas ordered up for everyone. I grabbed a chunk of meat and began to enjoy. "Not bad stuff" I said to myself as I found myself working just a bit harder to chew. After a few seconds I knew something was up and asked if it was "vaca" (literally "cow"). The fellas said..."Si, el oro de una vaca". Yep, that's what I said, the HEART of a cow. Honestly, not too shabby, but I don't think I'll be going out to order el oro de una vaca any time soon.

I also saw some pretty flabberghasting things on my way home from work today. The first ocurred at about milepost 183 on the PanAmerican Highway. I'm shootin the breeze with my mother and there on the side of the road, plain as day, is a dude standing with his wanker out, taking a leak! I had to double take. Absolutely no intention of being discrete. For goodness sakes, he could have hid behind the car or something. Pretty wild. Christian was rolling. A few miles down the road, we approached a slow moving truck similar to a grain or farm truck you might see driving around. In the back was a pile of stuff. On top of the pile of stuff were three women with an old man standing up and "holding the fort" (literally) as the truck sputterd it's way at a good 50 or 60 kph clip through town, wheels wobbling and all. There is next to no regard for human safety in this part of town. I'll try to post a video of what a typical street scene is around here. I think you'll be amazed.

Thankfully, I made it home safely and now it's time to call it a night as the dogs out the window bark and growl at the passing motorists. Have a good night.

Scotty

How rude of me...

My apologies...if you're reading this, consider yourself and your family welcome at the Zajac's place. Come by and drink some beers or put a few shots of Goldschlager down with us. Shoot me an email and let me know if you're going to make it.

Cheers,

Scotty

Reminiscing

Good Evening.

It's Saturday night around 9:30 or so. Got back from eating dinner a little while ago. Can't say that there is much to report since my last post. One observation is that I'm getting headaches more and more frequently these days...I never used to get headaches, but now it seems like I get a doozy every couple of days.

I've thought a bit about my trip back home coming up in a few weeks. My nephews will be in town, so I'll be able to rough-house with them and teach them more bad habits which is always fun. I haven't been on a roller coaster in probably 15 years and I'm thinking that heading up to Great America might be a fun time. A day fishing on the big lake for some perch with the old man would be great. I haven't been fishing on "The Lake" (Lake Michigan for all of you non Chicagoland folks) since Uncle Mike was still taking the boat off the top of his faded white Chevy pickup. Eating pizza is at the top of the list...Gelsasimo's, Auerillio's, Gino's, Mama D's even....I'll pass on the White Castles for another shot at a pie. I'd like to get a round of golf in over at the course I used to work at...Palmira. I haven't swung a stick in nearly 2 years. I'll be all over the place! There's a White Sox game in the mix while I'm back too. I should be pretty busy. The highlight will be the party at the house on the 16th...horseshoes, water balloon toss, brats, sassage, beers, maybe even some Polkas...the whole shabang. I'm looking forward to seeing family and friends that I only usually get to see during a quick one or two hour visit when I'm in town. Parties like this were a common summertime occurrence back when I was a little kid. I always looked forward to them. Whether playing jarts at Lemon Lake or scurrying around to see if Uncle George was wearing his famous orange and green socks...good times...good memories. Good memories indeed....a warm, sunny Saturday afternoon, familiar cars lined up in the driveway and along the street, the smell of brats and chicken cooking on the grill, silverware and ceramic rattling as the ladies get the coleslaw and potato salad ready and my hands cold and wet from completing another beer run of Stroh's for Dad, Uncle Ronny, Uncle Victor and Uncle Dick. The good 'ole days.

Time to hit the sack here. Have a good night. God bless.

Scotty

Formalities...

Good evening, good morning, good afternoon. Peruvians are quite formal in their greetings. Whether it be answering the phone or at the start of a handshake, a friendly "Good ....., senor", is a formality that I've come to enjoy. I'm probably more guilty than most for speaking in what might seem like foriegn tounges to non-English speaking folks when I start spewing out jargon and vernacular that I've either gathered or concocted on my own over the years. Adding a bit of formality into my daily speech is a good exercise for me.

I've spent most of my time tonight putting together a report and uploading photos and more reports to an interactive workspace floating around somewhere in the binary abyss of cyberspace. The files are huge and my connection is slow, so before I begin the process of uploading a ton of site photos, I figured that I'd stop in and say hello.

Someone down the street had a party last night, but the music was so stinkin loud it sounded like it was in my room. I staggered down to the hotel office at a fuzzy 2:30 am to find out what in the hell was going on because at first, it sounded like someone in the hotel was having a grand old time. The cop that does night watch came by and I asked him if there was anything he could do. He said negative ghostrider (or something like that in Spanish), and I went staggering back up to my room wondering what the cops in Peru actually do. They obviously don't hand out traffic violations, otherwise, there wouldn't be any cars on the road. They don't cite people for disturbing the peace. Littering in the streets appears to be encouraged by the looks of hte wayside in Chincha. I guess as long as he keeps the banditos from kidnapping this gringo, it's a job well done.

Work is busy as I'm involved in a new facet of the project that Golder is involved with. Constantly learning new things everyday. At times overwhelming, but probably no better way to learn it all than to pack it in. It has become apparent that there are some very smart people working on this job. I would have to say that this is the most educated "client" I have ever worked for...Usually a client, say for example BP, has personnel that know enough about geotechnical engineering to know the lingo and what the important questions are. The client reps working on this job not only know the lingo and the important questions, they know many of the answers to those questions and what's more, they got a handle on the design and construction ends of the project as well. I guess when you're dealing with over a billion dollar investment, you build your team around people who know their stuff.

The client representative that I work with and report to on a daily basis, Brad, is no exception. Brad has about 25 years of experience doing marine construction and design. Brad is a vocal and whitty Aussie of husky build in his mid 40s with a keen eye for recognizing problems before they arise. Besides wearing a pair of navy khakis, a blue denim shirt and contemporary RayBans every day, his frank nature is softened by his concern and mutual respect for his colleagues. I enjoy working with him as he always has something educational to profess...war stories of projects in the past or plans and schemes for the tasks at hand.

I find myself doing a daily balancing act where I want to open up to learn, but not so much to have green coming out of my ears. As my folks or Auntie Manka can attest to, I like to ask questions and learn new things. For now, I'm just trying to stay on top of what I need to do, do it well and hopefully pocket as much insight that I can from Brad and the other veterans moseying around the site.

I suppose it's time to call it a night. Got my mind set on a crepe-like flapjack filled with some sort of goodness for breakfast tomorrow. I'm not sure what that filling is, but it's damn good. I'll catch you on the flipside.

Scotty

Just for the record...

Morning, folks.

Before I fill you in on why I'm blogging at 7:00 am instead of heading to work, I want to make sure that my encounter with the British tourists from a post or two ago didn't come off the wrong way. The more I thought about it, if I had just arrived from a 3 hour cramped bus ride, still adjusting to the 6 hours of jet-lag, the last thing I'd want to deal with would be a wirey bloke sporting a backward's facing cycling cap. I like British beers, the array of accents, Def Leppard...I know quite a few great folks from GB. In any event, that's been bothering me the last couple days.

So, back to why I'm posting now...Covert site operatives caught wind of another demonstration/protest/strike...whatever you want to call it. If you recall, there was supposed to be a protest last week, but it got foiled by the mass of riot police before it even happend. This time around, the local unions must have added to their forces as all of us site employees were told not to come into work this morning. I was told to hold tight at the hotel. I should get a call advising me to return to the site...when that call will come, I have not a clue. So now, I'm sitting on the hotel patio, listening Peruvian pop music and eating an omelette, fresh bread and papaya juice. Pretty good, but I just learned that an omelette consists of scrambled eggs and nothing else. I guess I need to include the additioanl ingredients in my order next time.

I'll probably spend most of my time while I'm here doing work or odds and ends like helping Christian wash the truck and head to the bank...but before it's all said and done, I may sneak out to the jungle gym staring at me right now and do a little exercise before I get the call.

Steer clear of angry mobs and long live the queen!

Scotty

Missin the bike...

What's shakin, everyone?

Things are busy. Since I've been here, I've been pretty much going non-stop while onsite. Always something to do. I took two little breaks during the day today, about 10 minutes each. One to chat with my buddy Johnny and the other to look at some pictures I have on my computer. I spent a good part of the time reminiscing over the cycling pictures I've collected over the last few seasons...remembering the days they were taken...what was going on in my mind at the time...what point of the race it was...how much I was probably hurting...I miss the bike, but I find myself missing being fit, aside from, of course, being with cycling buddies at weekend races, grabbing breakfast after Mass, or catching a Jimmy John's sando at work. About one week before I left for this Peruvian shin-dig, I think I was approaching some of the best cycing form I had ever had. I got into the fastest sprint of my life and my resting heart rate was the lowest I've ever seen it...while I'm glad I was able to leave feeling so good...I can't help but wonder how I would have done at the races that have since are now in the past and those that lie ahead.

Contrary to being fit, I feel like a slug. Soft, slow, mooshy...you name it. Haven't had them endorphine thingys kick in lately. I find myself eating things that just 4 weeks ago I would have avoided if you put me in front of a smorgasboard. Part of me enjoys the hell out of it, the other part doesn't feel so good. There's not a whole lot to eat out here that's a.) convenient for a construction site, and b.) won't destroy my stomach. Now that I think about it, I could go for a nice juicy pear. There's that jungle gym out my window. I guess no one is stopping me from going out there to do some chins or pull ups...by golly, living 5 minutes from work, in the middle of cycling heaven, where it stays light out until 9:30 is a great thing I guess I never really appreciated until now. Somebody give me a swift kick in the pants...I need to pull my head out of my butt!

The contractor worked another long shift tonight, which meant I didn't leave until it was nice and dark out. Though the night sky is usually shrouded with patches of haze, the heavens along the coast were clear on the drive home, exposing the canopy of stars twinkling above. It has been awhile since I saw so many stars.

The stars coupled with a late night chicken and gravy dinny were a great way to end a long day. So, with that, time to hit the hay.

Till next time,

Scotty

Day off in Paracas

Hola, amigos.

Was granted the day off today by the powers that be. First nice day in awhile as it has been pretty hazy and cloudy. Today was great. 80 or so and sun. After a debacle of a morning dealing with alarms and communication gaps the width of a football field, Christian (my driver) and I headed south of Chincha towards the coast town of Paracas to do some sightseeing. Paracas is known for the marine and bird life along the islands that surround the town. Along the way, we passed the city of Pisco which bears the same name as Peru's favorite adult beverage: a Pisco sour. I'm not sure what all goes into one, but I do know a raw egg is included in the list of ingredients. Everyone says their great and supposively a few will get you buzzin pretty good. Work hasn't been that hellacious just yet to resort to alcohol, so I'm holding off for now...I'll stick to Inca Cola awhile longer.

We get to Paracas and mosey around town for a bit while we waited for the tour boat to get ready. If you ever travel to Peru, know that 30 Peruvian minutes equates to about 60+ American minutes. After fidgeting around for an hour and just about asking for my money back, they loaded us 18 of us (I'm the only gringo in the boat) into a 20 to 25 foot run-a-bout fitted with a pair of 150 outboard Mercs. The boat saw better days, but I didn't feel too concerned about it, but the life preserves were a different story. I don't think they would stay afloat in wet concrete...thank goodness we didn't have to test them.

The boat ride was a blast...the captain had me switch from one side of the boat to the other several times to help balance the load. Once that was taken care of, we got up to cruising speed and shot out towards the islands waiting for us 15 minutes away off the bow. Once we got into open water, we started cutting through 3 foot swells and chop that caused the boat to list and spray the poor chaps and chapettes on the port side. Some people were using the seat cushions to block the water from drenching them...it was hysterical. The whole boat was rollin.

The island tours were pretty awesome to see...we started out next to this island that was half covered in bird doody. Apparantly, the Incas used to trek all the way out to the island back in the day to harvest the doo for whatever Inca's did with it. It wreeked pretty badly. Tons of birds flying around out there...millions of 'em. Pelicans, a ton of indiginous birds and penguins too! Those guys were pretty neat to see waddling around. Sealions were also lounging around all over the place. They were all conked out, soaking up the sun. After an hour or so of checking out the wildlife, we stopped about a mile off the coast at one point to observe these huge markings in the sand. Sort of like a crop circle but made in the rock/desert earth. They don't know who made it, when it was made or what it means. It's about two football fields long and a football field wide or so...If you ask me, it's got aliens written all over it! A few pix from the tour are up on the photo site (see link below).

On the way back, I found myself in the wrong side of the boat as we were now the target for the waves and splash. We got wet, but shielded ourselves pretty good with the seat cushions...poor Christian was at the edge of the boat and got half soaked. We're both still cleaning salt out of ears!

On the way back, we stopped at a tummy-friendly resturant for a late lunch. There were a bunch of gringos in there, and I started to feel a little more at home...until none of them had much to say. I'd sport a head nod and a smile...they'd turn their head. I was puzzled...then it hit me when I heard them talking at their tables...they weren't Americans...they were Brits! Mystery solved. There was a flock of British folks on a grand two week tour of Peru. The tour guide was pretty hip and said they were just starting their journey.

That was Sunday. I'm pretty much fully recovered from my stomach thingy and will give my pathetic exercise routine of jumping jax and pushups a go here in a bit. There's a kid's jungle gym out in the backyard here a El Condado and I think I'll use it to do pull-ups and chins to mix it up a bit.

That's it for now. I hope you enjoy the pictures. Cheers

Snubbin the Rooster...

Howdy, friends and fam.

I'm feeling much better today. No headache and although I'm still crappin like a goose, I'm not doing it nearly as often!

Today was going to be the day we were supposed to do what was planned for yesterday. I get to the site an extra half hour early, only for the work to start up an hour late. At 8:30, the hammering starts off. I won't bore with you with geotech lingo, but for an hour, they're driving the pile, then monkeying around with it...tweaking this, tightening that, etc. Well, at 9:15 or so, they had a whopping 3 meters of pile (approximately 10 feet for all of the non-metric folks out there) and were starting to get a hang of things when a phone call comes in..."Leave the beach area immediately, collect your belongings and get off the site." It seems that the local labor unions weren't happy about the project and were coming to "protest". When one thinks of unions protesting, picket lines generally come to mind. Not so much here. Two weeks ago, they had a protest that consisted of a group of angry union folk driving a pickup truck THROUGH the site fence, overturning tables, and destroying equipment all to the background melody of shotguns and rifles firing in the air. This time around, the site managers planned ahead and had about 100 riot police on standby, carrying shields, gas masks and AK-47s. Pretty cool group of dudes. We bailed from the site and hung chilly at the hotel, playing cards and watching bad Latino music videos for about 3 hours before we got the call to return to the site. Apparently, when the band of marauders approached the site and saw all the five-0 sporting machine guns and riot gear, they pulled a 180 and headed back to the union barracks. By the end of the day, the pile was in the ground, albeit half crooked, and the entire gang made it home safe and sound.

What does all this have to do with "snubbin the rooster", you might be wondering right about now. Nothing yet, but I'm getting there. So, a post or two ago, I mentioned that I've been having trouble sleeping. Well last night, I had a great night of sleep going until about 4 am...that's when it started...cock-a-doodle-doo...over and over and over again. A warped-sounding cock-a-doodle-doo. The best way I know how to describe it is to picture a normal rooster cock-a-doodle-doing like we all know and love from the cartoons, but instead, the rooster is snorting it out like a pig, but the pig is sick. Horrible. Absolutely horrible. This went on straight from o4:00 to the time I was supposed to wake up at 06:00. I got a sense that the rooster was getting tired, but that joker didn't stop. Then after about 10 or 15 minutes he got his other rooster buddies fired up so it became a chorus of roosters singing their song like a broken record. I gotta give that rooster an 'A' for being punctual, but if I ever meet that son-of-a-%$@!* face to face, he's going to have more to cock-a-doodle-doo about than just the sunrise. I'm convinced that Alice in Chains wrote their song "Rooster" while staying in room 305 of El Condado. It all makes perfect sense now, and here I used to think you had to be entranced in a drug-induced stooper to make sense of them songs. All I know is that if Mr. Rooster keeps up his trix, Mr. Zajac is heading back to El Christopher Columbo where I can handle the occasional late night city street car alarm or even the occasional sound of gunfire...not a 2 hour marathon of roosters squawking.

Wishing you all a peaceful night's sleep.

Scotty

Belly-aching

Hello, Folks.

I hope you are well. Haven't had a chance to post...network issues.

Since my last post, I've come down with some sort of stomach infection. Been tore up pretty much since I got here, but the last couple days have been just about brutal. Had a killer headache yesterday evening and all day today...I took an hour nap during the day to try and get better, but no luck. Sweats, chills...The doc here put me on some heavy duty meds and it seems to be working so far as I feel a bit better. I'm on a diet of chicken soup and rice for the next couple days. I gutted it out (literally) today because today was supposed to be one of the more important days on the job as we they were going to install the first pile and run some tests. The blasted pile never made it into the ground. Too many hiccups and so we have to wait until tomorrow. I could have used the couple extra hours of sleep! Fargin bastages.

I haven't slept worth a darn the last couple nights either...if it's not the belly aching...I'm dreaming of a.) work or b.) trying to talk in Spanish but forgetting all the words. Both keep me going in and out of a restless slumber.

To top it all off...I jacked my head on a wall walking down the stairs and I also got this behemoth of a zit half the size of Peru on my head right where my hat sits. It hurts like a mofo.

Besides that, things have been great this week. Time to go chow on some supper. Till next time, take care,

Scotty

A Few Observations

Howdy, Everyone.

I've been in Peru for one full week now, and I present to you a few general observations:

1. Horns
This may come across the wrong way, but Peruvians are the horniest people I know. I bet there is more honking going on in this country at any given moment than from within a gaggle of gooses. As I may have conveyed to some of you, driving in this country requres great skill, largely because the drivers are complete savages. Perhaps that may be the reason for the exorbident amount of horn usage, but I'm not so sure. I am not exaggerating, but picture a wide open road, no car in front of you, no pedestrians dashing across the road...just wide open pavement for blocks, and then there it is....beeep beeep...or worse yet, the dreaded Euro noise maker that sounds something like a ruptured clown horn, "ba-bleep ba-bleep, ba-bleep ba-bleep". Come on, people. Is this really necessary?

2. Chicken and Spuds
Chicken and taters are served at every meal of the day, just about everywhere you go. Lots of pan-fried chicken and some form of fried potatoes. My tolerance for chicken and tatoes is wearing thin. My weight may stay the same down here, but I fear my cholesterol is on the rise...I've probably already consumed enough oil to lube a Chevy. There's no escaping "el plato de pollo y papas" as far as I can see.

3. Canned Milk
Somebody help me here, please. How does this stuff work? How I long for a big bowl of tasty flax ceral only to be overcome by fear of milk in a can. I remember Mom baking back in the day with canned milk every once in awhile...their was a girl cow's head on the label...but I never drank the stuff straight up. To make matters worse, there are different types/brands of canned milk that add to the confusion. Are there any tips for putting this stuff down without ruining my love for milk, like adding sugar or salt, etc.? Can you mix it up with Quick or rich chocolately Ovaltine and come out okay? Any advice welcome!

4. Inca Cola
While on the topic of ominous beverages, may I present to you, Inca Cola. A Peruvian favorite since 1935, Inca Cola is enjoyed by millions. Buy it by the can or go for the gusto with a full 1 liter bottle for the entire family! Don't let the radioactive green color scare you away. A supersaturated solution of high fructose corn syrup and your daily allowances of carmel color and FD&C Yellow #5 are scientifically concoted to create a carbonated elixer with a taste reminiscient of the ever popular "Hubba Bubba" bubble gum of yesteryear. Pick up a six pack at your local grocer today! Cavities form on contact with this stuff. Beware!.

5. Women's Shoes...
Are everywhere.. I don't think it's a stretch to say that Peruvian women have quite an affection for shoes. Shoe store after shoe store line the streets. Every little nook has numerous women's shoes in it. Within one short city block in Miraflores (maybe the length of half a football field), I counted no fewer than 10 women's shoe stores. I can't help but think of being a kid and going to Grandma's house once a week during summer vacation. A trip to Grandma's always included lunch at one of the region's finest resturants: White Castle, Johnel's or the Purple Steer. Unfortunately for me, a stop at Zayre or Sears Surplus was usually on the itinerary. As a kid, I couldn't stand those places, and if I recall correctly (my mom can attest) I would usually act up and become a pain in the butt. I remember two things vividly about Zayre and Sears Surplus: the first is Grandma talking about and buying blouses all the time and secondly, lots of shoes...scattered up and down the aisles and haphazardly stacked on the fragile shelves...some in boxes...some connected by a thin nylon string holding the pair together, one shoe buried in a mess of pleather soles, the other dangling on the side of the sale rack. Take that image if you will, and multiply it by about 50. Madness if you ask me!

Just a few things I've observed since I've been in town. I now observe that it's midnight. I think my stomach is finally taking a nap. So will I. Till next time, Take care.

Scott

Yo soy una idiota, dos veces (I'm an idiot times two)

Greetings. New photos posted to link below. This is a bit lengthy, but some lessons to be learned....

Spent/spending the weekend in Lima this weekend. No work going on at the site, so I figured I'd stay here and enjoy the relative safety of the Miraflores area. Yesterday, I spent half of the day setting up this blasted blog site. That took me some time as it wasn't long ago that I didn't know what the hell a blog was. I took it easy and read a bit as my stomach was going up and down when I was sitting still. After awhile, I felt better and I dropped some dirty clothes off at the cleaners. I figured I'd just mosey around town and take in the city. I was hungry, so I stopped off at what else? A chicken place. After I placed my order, I pulled out the trusty ole pocket dictionary and took a gander at some words. As I was practising some phrases, a girl and her mom stopped by to ask if I was from the US. Before I could respond "yes", the mother was bascially sitting down in the chair opposite of me. After she sat she asked if it was alright in broken English and I said sure. They had just gotten done eating whereas I had just placed my order. I figured it'd be small chat stuff...well, 20 minutes later I was sitting with my food staring back at me, trying to figure out if I should start chowing down or what. I thought for sure once my chicken and rice dish landed on the table, they were going to bail. Not so much. The talk was non-threatening, but it was juuussst a bit awkward to say the least. After patiently drooling for a bit, the mother said it was fine for me to eat...Hey, thanks lady! The daughter is 19 and is learning English, so I thought that was the main purpose of the chat...well, as the chat and my dinner came to an end, the girl asked for my email! I was taken aback, but besides feeling a bit awkward, felt non-threatend about the whole shabang. So, I fibbed a bit and said I didn't check it often, but if she had questions about the US or English, I might be able to help. At the same time, she proceeded to not only give me her email, but her address and phone number...her mom inviting me to stay the next time I come back to Lima! At that point I was a bit whigged out and was actually happy to see them leave. I made it a point to stall a bit after they left and the busboy stopped by and said that they were "waiting" outside. I couldn't see them, but I trusted his intellegence and I asked a few minutes later if they had skadattled...he said yes, and I flew the coop.

After that, I meandered through a park and looked at a bunch of local artist's work surrounding the park. I also found a church and checked out the mass times. I closed the day by picking up some fresh bread and cheese from the store and snacking on that to a ghetto episode of Different Strokes before calling it a night.

Today, I pulled my carcass out of bed at around 7:30, organized some of my clothes and dropped some things off at the office (2 blocks away) on my way to church and hit 10:00 Mass. It was the kid's Mass...I didn't understand a damn thing except for Jesus (hay-soos), Amen and Alleluia, but it's still legit. I'll get online after this to get a better handle on the readings. I think the Gospel was from John, but other than that, I"m clueless. After church, I wanted to blow some cash and figured I'd buy some art. Oil on cavass paintings for around 10 to 25 bones...I couldn't pass it up...they roll up too, so that makes travel easy. Anywho, I picked up some authentic Peruvian and even more interesting, Incan paintings, both water color and oil on canvas. So, for around $100 bones or less, I got some pretty sweet paintings that really come from the places they depict. As I was purchasing the last painting, two ladies walked by and were speaking English, so I said hello and we talked a bit about the art and all...come to find out that they're nuns from a local missionary order. They were "incognito" as they put it...they didn't have their habuts on. We shot the bull for awhile and I asked if there was a church or shrine to St. Rose of Lima...they gave me the directions and off I was, receiving a sincere "goodbye and God bless" as I made my way to the bus stop. Enroute to the bus stop, I came across a portly little Peruvian fella in his early 60s named Pepe. Pepe spoke pretty good English and he showed me around his brother's art gallery. After explaining that I bought all the art I needed for awhile, he asked where I was headed to and I said to St. Rose's church...his eyes lit up and he said, "I live 4 blocks from there. I heading home now. I show way to St. Rose." I figured what the hey...I was bigger than him and if he started any marlakey, I'd be able to kick his portly little butt. So, we hopped onto one of the million minibuses that scurry around town and headed north to St. Rose's church. Quite a ride to say the least...fast, then slow, then fast again. Forget the shocks and if you're clausorphopic, take a cab! On the way, we passed the US embassy and a soccer stadium as Pepe was explaining that his son was a jockey and racing later in the day. Fifteen minutes later, Pepe motioned that my stop was next and he said, "You pay lunch, I show you St. Rose and very very old church. You buy lunch, I show you way." "Sure, why not," I replied.

We went into St. Rose's church and Mass was just finishing up...so we walked around the garden and read some of the placards. St. Martin de Porres hung out right across the street from where St. Rose lived. Pretty sweet. After Mass was over, we went inside and it was majestic. Not opulent as one might envision the grand churches in Europe, but very majestic. Afterwards, we made our way through street vendors and side alleys and came upon a busy market street. Hidden right in the middle of it was, according to Pepe, one of the first churches in all of Peru. Not so sure, but it was way old inside and very small. All the churches that I have seen have many images or statues of the Divine Mercey and crucifixion. Statues of Mary are common too. It was nearing 2:00, horse race time, so we decided to eat lunch and watch the races Pepe's son was riding in. All is fine and dandy...Pepe's son won the first race and a little while later, he rode a second horse but didn't do so hot. Did I mention that Pepe made it a point to bet on the races? Small detail...after the races, we start heading back to the bus stop and Pepe stated he needed to pick up his winnings on his son's first race. Now, some may say I should have known better, but....when we get back to the "Jockey Club" as its called, Pepe said, "I need 10 soles (about 3 bucks) to get even change." I was not thinking straight and I gave him the 10 soles only to see him turn the corner with a new bet ticket! Are you kidding me? I couldn't believe it..."Pepe, what the hell? You gambled with my money?" I asked, vertical lines forming in my forehead from squenching my eyes in disbelief. "No worry, Scott. It okay. No worry. Sure win. Number 4 horse. Sure win." To which I replied. "You gambled my money?!?" I was flaborgasted and I told him he was pretty much a fargin bastage. All this for 3 bones...pretty trivial, but I was blown away...I asked what bus I needed, he told me, and I made my way back to the hotel solo. To top it all of, I got a pretty good sunburn on my head too!

It stinks...but if someone is nice to you down here, you got to raise your eyebrow, you know? Since I don't have any eyebrows, maybe that's why I ended up being the jackass in the story. I hope horse #4 came in dead stinking last. It goes against who I am to be doubtful/skeptical and shun away people who are engaing, but this ain't Redmond, I suppose. Live and learn.

Watch out for shady mother-daughter combos and the schiesters out there!

Scotty

Photos

Check out the photo link at the bottom of the page to see what I see...

Week 1 - Weds and Thursday

Hello, everyone.

I hope you are all doing well. I just shot you an email the other day, but I figured I’d update you all on my first visit to the project site.

Before I do that, yesterday (Wednesday) I spent the day in Lima. I was at the office for most of it. One of the admin assistants in the office, Max, helped me out on Wednesday. He’s a jack of all trades and does everything from help with accounting paperwork and copying reports to escorting gringos like me around town. Max is a pretty short fella, perhaps 5’5” or so, is very helpful and outgoing, and smiles a whole bunch. Like on my flight in, though he speaks little English, and vice versa for me with Spanish, we hit it off and were able to shoot the bull pretty well, my handy pocket dictionary never too far away. He likes to mountain bike and it looks like I might have a cycling buddy if I ever get a chance to do any riding while I’m down here. There was also this new gal that started at the Lima office yesterday. Her name is Celine. Get this…she’s Dutch, studied in France, worked in the UK the last five years, is pretty fluent in Spanish and she and her boyfriend moved to Lima two weeks ago. They don’t know anyone in town. That takes some ghoulies! With all those language backgrounds, she has one of the most intriguing accents I’ve ever heard. Very neat to listen to.

I made it to the site this morning. Pretty uneventful trip on the way down. Saw a few pacelines of cyclists riding in the middle of the PanAmerican Highway. Although I think they’re nuts, keep in mind that our idea of a highway is not the same here. The best I can describe the PAH is 93rd in St. John, Rt 2 in Valpo…maybe Hwy 98 in Panama City, basically Eldridge in Houston or 202 between Redmond and Fall City…picture that, now picture motorbikes and donkey carts along the sides. Travel is pretty slow to say the least. Another thing that isn’t the same is the country side. They have what are called “shanty towns” out here. My dad built a shanty at the old house in St. John. That little thing could pass the Peruvian seismic design code! These shanties have no running water, no electricity…some only have three walls, others no roofs…rags used as shirts and pants strung up on clotheslines only to get covered by the windswept desert dust that seems to have no beginning and no end. Here a few, there a few more. Pretty shocking. Dogs running around, dodging the oncoming cars or one of the many tour buses zooming by.

On the way down, Ernesto, my driver, wanted to stop for some desayuno (breakfast) along the way in Canete (pronounced Can-yet-A). Canete is pretty much a shanty town. I didn’t get anything but a pack of cookies and an OJ…he got…remember this is breakfast…fried duck, potatoes and refried beans with a coffee. He scarfed it down, so it must have been pretty good. As we were leaving, a delivery boy came in through the open air entrance and handed a plastic bag to the lady behind the counter…all I saw were two yellow feet sticking up out of the bag…must have been a replacement duck for the one Ernesto just finished!

Upon arriving to the site, I realized that there was not a single thing green for miles around. Nothing but that seemingly endless desert to the north, south and east…the Pacific Ocean giving reprieve to the west. Big and/or vast. That sums up the land area and terrain for the project. Nearly tabletop plateau precipitates some 500 to 700 feet down to the Ocean. Haul and access roads keyed in to the cliff sides…huge level working platforms a quarter mile long and one-thousand feet wide interrupt the natural sloping ground and are strategically placed to allow construction at the site. The primary soil type at the site is not so much sand as a conglomerate of sand, gravel and cobbles cemented together by what appears to be a sodium or calcium-rich binder. This material will likely greatly impact the pile driving work that I am involved with. Regardless of standing up high on the cliffs or down low on the beach, you feel small and far away from everything. The sky is different in some way at the site. Looking up gives the impression of a dome encompassing all that can be seen around you. The white fluffy clouds are so much higher than what I am used to seeing. They seem to be much lower back at home. Pretty strange, but very nice. The sun is intense, but there is the occasional respite as lower clouds and haze temporarily fill the sky. It’s never too clear…always some sort of blur to get in the way. For example, up at the top of the cliffs, looking east, you can see just a hint of the snow-capped mountains way off in the distance. On a clear day, I imagine a sure postcard image and memory.

Lunch was served in a mess hall. Quite good. I had a pork chop, some rice, mixed veggies and some of Nihal’s left over Indian food that his wife sent with me on Monday. Good stuff. After dilly-dallying around with paperwork and other BS, we made our way home…passing more shanty towns and Nihal and I talking about just how amazingly wonderful life is in the US. We pull into our “5-star” hotel…El Christopher Columbus Grand Hotel…to be greeted with 1.) No working internet in my room, 2.) A smoke detector with a low battery (chirp chirp chirp), 3.) and the rancid smell of dead fish flooding the hallways. I let the front desk know about the smoke detector and within five minutes an attendant was knocking on my door to fix it. He fixed it alright…popped the cover, took the battery out, threw the cover back on and started to leave…I say ‘hey, senior, fuego aqui” as I point to the hallway and shrug my shoulders. El senor replied “Tu fumas? (Do you smoke?) I said nope and he put his thumbs up and left. I couldn’t do anything about the fish smell…I think I’m used to it as I cannot smell it anymore. I’m in a town called Chincha Alta, or Chincha for short. Hustle bustle town, quite dirty and from what I gather, pretty shady. Some of the construction crew stays in Chincha…some have been here for 3 months or longer. None of them venture out after work for a beer or dinner…day or night. Lovely. My bald butt can only sit on a couch and marinate every once in awhile. Hopefully I can find something to do so I don’t become a complete sloth. I’d be bouncing off the walls tonight if I wasn’t so stinking tired.

That takes me to where I am now…it’s 9:30, Thursday night and I’m shot. Time for sleep. I’m trying to think of the best way to do these posts/pix…for now, I copied the address to an ftp site. Click on the top link, and it should take you there to where the pictures are at…if not, click the bottom link, and enter the login and passwords copied below. Open up the .pdf files…the other file is a mix up. I may get a blog site or something like that on the internet that’ll allow you all to check directly…I’ll update periodically and put pictures up…will keep you posted.

Take care,

Scotty

First Day in Peru

Hola mi familia y mis amigos. (Hello fellow gibronis and….uhm…I mean…Hello family and friends).

I hope all is well. The move out of Seattle was just one ring short of a circus, but some good friends and a few cold beers made it go much better than if I had to do it solo. It was great to see you Houstonians and Abilene brethren last week too. Much love given the last two weeks..I just hope I was able to reciprocate half of it and look forward to making up the other half the next time we meet up.

Here’s a run down of my first full day here in Peru.

I made it into Lima unscathed on Monday night. I got to Intercontinental airport in Houston with no time to spare. I found myself getting to the ticket counter with only an hour before my flight left. Lucky for me, there was no line and the security line was nil. The flight was jam packed and I sat next to a little old Peruvian lady from Lima and a young Japanese fella. Though none of us spoke the other’s language very well, we still managed to crack a few jokes and enjoy each other’s company. I had a window seat and got a little shuteye on the 6+ hr flight. Smooth and steady flight from take off to touch down.

I had some wild thoughts about arriving to Lima. I had pictures of smog, people selling children and fires burning in garbage cans. Come to find out that the airport was really organized and non threatening to a rookie traveler like me. Customs was no problem. After getting out of customs, there were about 200 people waving signs of people’s names and about 20 people asked me if I needed a taxi. I just smiled and said to myself, “Welcome to Lima.” I found the taxi driver and loaded into a little VW-like bus. Thousands of these things buzzing around the narrow streets…exhaust fumes filling the damp stagnant air. A gal from NYC, Valerie, was in the bus going to the same hotel as me. We had a nice chat on the way to there.

I arrived to the hotel in Miraflores at around midnight and everything was set up. Miraflores is a pretty affluent suburb of Lima. The arrangements were perfect…all I had to do was show my ID and it was set. I got my key and made it up to my room, on the way enjoying the staccato walls and brick floors. It has a colonial feel of sorts, but given I’ve never been in a colonial abode, I may be smoking dope with the description…but you get what I mean!?! Open windows here…no screens…no bugs! Pretty neat. Most of the cars out here don’t have mufflers so the noise is a little loud, but not too bad. You can hear the bustle out the window…the murmuring of nearby voices echoing off the old city walls. I turned on the tv as I unpacked and what was on??? The BLUES BROTHERS in English! I was blown away and started laughing out loud. What a way to kick off the trip!

This morning I got up and met my colleague and friend Nihal. Nihal is a senior level engineer and is really sharp. He’s from northern India and has a soft easy going voice. We get along well. The breakfast menu consisted of rolls, roasted chicken, stale cereal, warm milk, an assortment of fruit, deviled egg thingys and some little smokey links. I wound up eating three rolls, some OJ and tried to put down one of the smokey links…not so much on the smokeys. Golder’s office is just a few blocks away from the hotel. All the buildings are built up, not out…restaurants don’t look like restaurants…and hotels blend in as they look like regular buildings. I would have missed the Golder office if Nihal didn’t say where it was. Very different from the separated and sprawled mini malls and office parks back in the States.

Nihal and I spent most of the day reviewing the project to date, checking emails and getting things ready for the rest of the week. Nihal will be here through at least Saturday and maybe longer, depending on how things pan out in the field. I make my first visit to the site on Thursday. Tomorrow I hang chilly and get “indoctrinated” to the project at the client’s offices in town. We strolled our way to a café-open air restaurant for lunch. No one is in a hurry out here. It took forever to get our order in and longer to get our check. Nearly 2 hours for lunch…and we weren’t even trying to milk it! On the way there and back, about 3 or 4 kids tried to get me to give them money…some were juggling tennis balls, others were selling candy or gum. In broken Spanish I asked one of the little boys his name. He said “John Paul” I asked “as in Papi? (Pope John Paul II). He had a smirk and said “yes” I then asked if he went to school to which he said yes…I then closed with “study hard!” That little joker was trying to scam me!

To close my first full day, Nihal and I walked to the water front and ate at Tony Roma’s of all places. Nihal is a vegetarian and most of the places here serve lots of meat much to Nihal’s dismay. At least TR’s had some veggie pasta dishes. They have a gelato stand, so that was awesome. We scored some of that after dinny. Awesome vista from where we ate. Huge cliffs in the distance. In fact, the entire city is built near the edge of this plateau that terminates abruptly at the Pacific Ocean. I caught my first Peruvian sunset over the pacific as it faded away behind a remote island mountain far out at sea. Very nice.

Pictures to follow later this week. Till next time. Take care and God bless.

Scotty Z