Cantankerous Encounter, Dodgey Vehicles and Bad Pancakes...

Howdy guys and gals.

Two posts in three days. That's surely a 2008 record. I hope you've all had a dandy weekend in your respective locales. I know back at home it's cold as the dickens.

I had what you might call an interesting weekend...particularly Saturday...I made a 50 minute drive north to Playa Pulpos or Octopus Beach to make a friendly visit to see a friend and her friends for a day of lounging in the sand and some R&R...Side note...I've noticed that most Peruvian folks I know do exactly that every weekend...R&R. I'm used to getting up and going at it on the weekends to make up for the lost opportunities during the week because of work, lack of sunlight, etc. But here, it seems like much of the responsibility of the 5 day work week goes out the window, the feet go up, the head goes back and leisure takes precedence over most things...just a quick dose of cutural relations 101.

Anywho, I made my way to Octupus Beach late morning..after getting up at 6:30 to do a 45 minute run, some stretches, make breakfast, wash the dishes and clean up. At the bright and early time of 10:00 I'm wide-eyed and bushy tailed...At 10:00 I also found myself being a walking and talking alarm clock as my friend greeted me at the door and we made our way into the beach house. Everyone was still sleeping. Not the best way to introduce yourself to people you haven't met before. Strike 1.

As I walk in, some folks are moving slowly about and I'm carrying a big ole watermelon and a bottle of Pisco as a way to say thanks for the invite. I walked by 3 or 4 people and a little later, more folks passed through the kitchen. I get no reaction, no thanks, not even a "Kiss my blarney!" Strike 2.

As the rest of the people crawl out of their beds there are some quiet greetings and light conversation...90% of which is Spanish...even though everyone speaks English. I do my best to take part in the conversations with valiant attempts to conjugate Spanish verbs correctly within the context of what I want to say, but by and large, I found myself listening most of the time. I'm used to this, so, I'll call it a "foul tip". Still strike 2.

The conversation I do have in English is with my friend and it's about work and the subject matter, though not important here, is not very positive news. Out of that conversation I have a sense that my word and integrity are questioned which is a TOTAL downer. I feel like poo...Hit by pitch...man on first.

We make our way to the beach and the conversation is quite light. I'm antsy as all hell laying on the beach in silence and after reciting a few syllables to myself, I grab my bottle of H2O and ask if my friend or the others want to take a stroll along the beach. I get one response from the five of them and it's a negative. Force out at second...one out, one on.

As I meander my way through little kids playing in the sand and teenie-weenie bikini-clad chicas, I stumble upon a fisherman. It's amazing how enjoyable a conversation can be with an engaging person even if they don't speak a lick of your native tongue...or vice versa! I talked to Pedro for about 15 minutes...I think we covered everything from how strong his fishing line was to the aftermath of the August 15th earthquake. That was definitely a bright spot in an otherwise cloudy day to that point. Line drive up the middle...runners on first and second.

I return from my little hiatus from the group and things are bit more lively. There's a bit more of a chat going on...I shoot the breeze with the one fella from the group and grab a popsicle with my friend. Intentional walk...bases loaded.

There was a young boy named Ricardo, maybe ten or eleven years old, who was trying to get his dad to throw the frisbee around in front of our little camp. I saw that his dad needed a break, so I went out there and tossed with Ricardo. A few people from the group were coming out from the water and I gave the shout, "Here it comes!"...and watched my throw buzz right by...they being completely uninterested with the flying disk placed within an arm's reach in front of them. Duck snort pop fly to the pitcher...Two away, bases still juiced.

We pick up the things and head back to the house at which point everyone starts doing what seemed to be pre-assigned tasks for getting the afternoon meal ready. One person slips by me to get a package of chicken...another grabs charcoal for a fire. I felt like a lamp-post that was in the wrong place. I couldn't seem to segue into doing something helpful, so, I took a quick shower to rinse the sand and seashell bits from my shorts and orifices. I get done, and when I come out, it's like I'm not there, but I get a hunch that someone might say, "Hey, Scott...it's getting late. Stick around for dinner and let's drink some of that Pisco. We've got two extra beds and it'll be safer for you to head out tomorrow morning."...but, my hunch was wrong...deep flyout to the warning track. Game over.

Now I had to get home. There was what I perceived to be an obligatory offer for a ride to the bus stop, but I wasn't going to take anyone away from their plan...For some reason, I got the impression that I wasn't their most popular guest and I definitely wasn't going to ask for a lift. So, at a little after 4 pm I threw my mesh bag filled with wet trunks, a towel and the essence of Hawaiian Tropic sunscreen permeating from my t-shirt over my shoulder and headed for the bus.

I picked up a bottle of water at a little store next to the highway and as I was paying for it, I asked where I could pick up the bus...The fella selling me the water said he wanted money before he gave me directions. This joker wouldn't even sell me the water. I told the guy he could keep the water and I walked on down the road. For those of you who don't know...that guy fits the definition of "gibroni" to a T. A few kicks down the road I found a friendly hombre waiting tables at a restaurant down the street and picked up a Sprite...my simple gesture of "keep the change"...all of about a quarter...landed me my own on-the-spot travel agent. After a few attempts, he snagged a taxi that would take me to San Bartolo, where I could pick up the omni bus to Cerro Azul.

I arrive to San Bartolo and every omni bus that stops has a destination different than Cerro Azul...what's more is that by and large most the buses simply zipped right by the bus stop. By this time the sun was setting and Scotty was starting to think of Plan B. I finally flagged down a bus driver and told him my situation. He told me to get on, get off at the Mala station, then take a different bus to Cerro Azul. So, that's what I did.

The bus is packed tight, two seats on either side of the isle. I get on and the conductor said, "Gringo...here." I sit in a half-vacant seat...the other other half is taken up by a woman with a garbage bag full of cheap plastic sandals and other items for re-sale and her small daughter wedged between the merchandise and the wall! Good gravy.

We make an intermediate stop and the conductor jumps in and says "Buckle Up!"...Everyone starts dashing around for their seat belts. Of course, my belt is nowhere to be found. I'm digging around Lord knows what on and in the seat to find the belt, but to no avail. The poor lady next to me probably thought I was trying to goose her or something we were packed in there so tight...As it turned out, Johnny, or should I say, Juanny Law, didn't board the bus, so we lucked out. We finally get into Mala (which by the way translates basically into Bad City) and it's bustling around with taxis, three-wheeled motos and street vendors all along the dusty roads giving it the impression that it is bigger than what it really is.

The bus driver was nice enough to point me in the direction of my next bus. A bus would have been nice...what I boarded next was a late model rusty conversion van suitable only to act as a landing pad at a monster truck rally. I was put in the front seat, the door literally falling off the hinges and got a first hand look at the control panel...wires hanging all over...a yellow light flashing every once in awhile, springs here and there. I think the top speed of that jalopy was 75 kph...downhill...and it was astonishing we even made it up the hills. Shocks, working lights, door locks...completely optional equipment on this bad boy.

Finally, after 3 hours of leaving Octopus Beach, I arrived to my destination of Cerro Azul...keeping in mind that it less than an hour to make the trip in the morning. I got home with a headache, a bad attitude and an empty stomach. I ate some leftover pasta, made a phone call or two and then packed it up for the night.

Slept in Sunday...still hungover with a crappy attitude from the previous day...I attempted to make homemade pancakes as you can't get flapjack mix here like you can in the US...no Aunt Jemima, no Bisquick. I mixed flour with an egg, a touch of oil, some water and milk...tossed in an ultra-ripe banana and then a few ground up nuts to be creative...what resulted was more of a bland unleavened crepe-ish conglomerate rather than a light fluffy hot cake. The taste? Not very good. Not sure what ingredient makes a pancake cakey...but that's something I need to work on. Oh how I miss the 100% whole wheatness of the Kodiak Cakes!

Here's to better weekends...and better pancakes!

Scotty

Crispy...

Howdy family, friends and whomever might be stopping by.

It's a balmy Friday night here in Cerro Azul. For some reason, I fell tired on the way home from work this evening. I have been going like a bat out of hell the last week, so rather than do a few improvised exercises on the Swedish ball, I elected to eat early and do some surfing on the net. Then it dawned on me that this would be a good time to shoot the bull on the blog.

The sun is out in force these summer days in Peru. More so when you're on antibiotics... All five rotations that I've been down here, some form of antibiotic has been a part of my daily caloric intake at times. Typically it's for my aching belly...this time it was for "small pox"...It seems that Luis and I both got some "pox" at the same time. He went to a "doctor" (note the frequent use of the quotes here) and was told he had virula...small pox! Since we both landed the bumps at the same time, I thought that it must be the case. Flashbacks of 3rd grade social studies class came rushing back into my mind...I remembered the terrible ills that befell the pilgrims and the explorers as they sailed West...whooping cough, rickets, scurvy...small pox! For a short while I thought I was doomed...Doomed until I decided to go see the site doctor myself. The night before I felt as though the "pox" got the best of me. I was beleaguered, tired, hot, cold, restless. I woke up the next day a bit more chipper, but far from the form I know to call 100 percent. The doc took a look and determined immediately that it wasn't pox but a few bug bites! Something must have snuck in from the beach or the site. Whatever it was, it packed a good punch....

Where this all leads is that I was given an antibiotic to clear up the bites and all...the bites went away as planned, and so did any resistance I had to the sun. Holy smokes. 20 minutes on a side to get a nice first go at the South American sun and I was fried like that chicken from Popeyes. I've gone through the molting process the last few days and should be dawning a completely new epidermis by the time I wake up tomorrow. Moral of the story folks...if you want to get some sun, don't pop an antibiotic with the morning Centrum....bad news lurks ahead.

That said, I'm heading to the beach tomorrow...but this time I'm more than prepared...NO antibiotics (no more bug bites) and the SPF 50 will be close at hand. After an early morning run, I'm meeting up with some friends from Lima at a beach just outside the city. As a token of my thanks for the invite, I'm taking a 20 lb watermelon and a bottle of pisco. Let the good times roll!

So, that's about it from this end. Amidst the children screaming and playing through the wee hours of the night, the weekly power outages, the water shortages and the crawling critters, things are fine and dandy down here.

Until next time, you guys and gals take care...get some good laughs in this weekend.

Scotty

Back for More in '08...

Hello and Happy New Year folks!

This post comes to you from the oceanfront confines of Apartment 405 in Cerro Azul. I found my way back to Peru late Thursday night. It's amazing where you can wind up after a 6 hour flight!

One-hundred percent fantastic holiday voyage: 2 continents, 7 states, 13,000 miles and the family and friends. Like all good things, the fun had to come to an end. I had a great month-long trip back to the States. A perfect mix of "get up and go" and hangin chilly.

My first stop was Seattle where I snuck back in time to make Golder's Christmas Party. I was able to make an emergency dress shirt and tie purchase before hand that really paid off throughout the trip...Working in Seattle for two weeks brought back memories of what it's like to work in the office again. Proposals and reports and drawings oh my! Got to spend quality time with good friends and enjoy life after the workday. Never got out on the bike as the weather was absolutely heinous a few days. On the couple sunny days, I couldn't shake the feeling of the legs itching ever so slightly to push some pedals again...but, not this time around. The one day that I felt most like riding I was helping Doc Pepe move a behemoth of an examination table into his new office. The Doc is starting his own private practice. Great location and great office.

Following the Seattle visit, I flew over the river and past the woods for a big city adventure in New York. My friend Therese and I did a lot of get up and going for four days. Empire state building, subways, Broadway show, Rockettes, pizza, cabs, ice skating, live music, Irish car bombs, etc. I'll let the pictures in my web album do the talking. The emergency dress shirt made it's NYC debut for the Rockettes! An awesome time. NYC is a fun city. Now that I've been there and experienced it, I'd like to officially state what I've felt in my heart all along...Chicago pizza topples NY pizza in taste and style...hands down. NYC pizza is tasty, don't get me wrong...it's practical and the pizza joints are usually teeming with fun people...but there isn't anything like scarfing a real pizza PIE.


The third leg of the trip entailed a short jog from the Big Apple to the Windy City where I was greeted with 6 inches of snow outside the jetway. I found myself helping Mom make pirogi my first day back to the Chicagoland area. Listening to Christmas carols (in my new emergency dress shirt and tie) by the world's greatest Chicago Symphony Orchestra was a treat. Christmas with aunties and uncles and kids all around made the holiday really fun. I got to wrastle with my Godson Bobby and the other little cousins. Tremendous amounts of food were the norm whether I was at home or out and about. I got into the gym a few times with the Old-Man...Even though he's got 38 years on me, I'd still put money on my dad in a 100 m dash against me.

A quick but great trip to Cleveland to visit friends as close as family worked out really well to qualify as the fourth leg of my journey. The mass quantities of food continued to find their way on my plate for some reason. I got to see my other Godson Carmine while in Cleveland. He's getting bigger every time I see him.


The final stop before jetting back to Peru was a four day layover in H-town. Relaxing in Houston? Oh contraire, my friends...no such thing this time around. Rather, I wound up breaking up and dumping concrete sidewalk slabs and replacing them with nearly 200 of the finest oven-baked bricks ACME Brick Co. can sell. It wasn't forced labor as I volunteered for such abuse. My good buddy Johnny has been a mix of Bob Vila, Norm Abram and the Energizer Bunny the last six months or so remodeling his house so I figured I'd help my mate out. He's done a great job and gets Scotty Z's stamp of approval. The brick laying day just happened to be New Years Eve. It was a game-time decision, but I cleaned up and slipped on that new dress shirt one last time and headed out to a hotel party in downtown Houston with a group of friends. At one point I was cruising around the masses with 5 ladies all by meself. It doesn't get much better than that! Lots of dancing and a bit too much wine made the night a lot of fun.

It's amazing how much I left in Peru when I skooted out of here on 30 November...As I was probably flying over the Gulf of Mexico on my way back the other day, I couldn't remember any of the things that peeved me down here...my mind was blank. I guess that's the sign of a perfect vacation. Now that I've been back for two days it's all rushed right back in...but...

I return to Peru feeling fresh and energized. Not much has changed here...the constant hum of the diesel generator located not too far from my office window still fills the air. There are a few more piles in the ground. We're completely over the water now. I took a walk onto the work platform and got a first hand look at the waves crashing on the piles that support the jetty. Humbling experience...I had a hand in making sure those piles do their job. Based on all the data that we've reviewed and all the numbers crunched I think we've done a purty darn good job. It's been a great team effort.

I returned to the apartment Friday morning and was pleasantly surprised to see a Christmas tree and nativity set up in the living room. The apartment staff put it up. I was unpleasantly surprised to find the refrigerator door slightly ajar when I arrived, though. A nice chunk of ice formed on the freezer door and prevented the main door from closing. I decided that all the chiseling wasn't going to solve the problem, so I pulled the plug. Upon our return to the apartment after work, we had to traverse across "Lake Scotty is a Gibroni" to get to our rooms. After sopping up a couple gallons of water which found its way into dips and crannies across the imitation tile floor, I finally got my bags unpacked and situated. I commandeered the big room from Luis, so now I'm sleeping in a full-sized bed. It might take some getting used to since I've been kicking it twin-sized bed style for the last 30 years and all...but it's not too bad. One new thing is that the beach out the front door is now filled with people on the weekends...it's Peru's summer vacation time here...lots of folks surfing and having a good time.

If you haven't noticed, I added a new feature to the blog for 2008...a poll. Feel free to send your answer and check out the results. Some fun and goofy topics...and maybe a few brain teasers too. Don't forget to check out the new pictures.

That be it for now. God bless.

Scotty