Banana Chips

I love banana chips. They sell wonderful dried bananas at the ferias libres (Farmer’s Markets - see picture). I know they have them in the U.S., but I’ve fallen in love with them here and eat them by the bagful.

Most of the things we have experienced here are the same as at home: a glass still breaks when Sarafina drops it; cheap windex and plastic wrap don’t work; and food tastes best while standing over the sink. The novelty of things like the toilet swirling backwards and winter in August have worn off.

I could report that nothing big happened this week, but it is really a matter of perspective: We successfully made cookies (for our new friends from Alaska) demonstrating our supremacy over our oven; I used my Spanish/English dictionary to translate the subtitles on The Sopranos to see if they were accurate and in the process learned colorful new vocabulary; and I determined that Sarafina’s scar medicine isn’t working on my wrinkles, but it was worth a try.

I also had new experiences: I went to a charity wine tasting event at the U.S. Ambassadors house; I had a wonderful run up Cerro San Cristobal; and I ironed a shirt. All but the last I hope to do again. Today, the world is my oyster, and whatever happens, I will be content and thankful that I don’t have to dry my own bananas.

Sisma