Inquiring Minds

(A sample of questions I've received from Sarafina)

Mom, are we still in Colorado?
You poor dear, I’m not always sure where we are either. Wasn’t life exciting enough in Colorado juggling schedules and kiting credit cards? What made me think that I could hide in another hemisphere? Visa has tracked me down, and the fashion police are hot on my trail. Maybe I’ll go hide in these vineyards.

Mom, is eye shadow real?
Ummm, yes. I mean no. I mean… real what?

I know the flowers are real because I can smell them. The sun is real because it feels so good on my skin. The cheese is definitely plastic. But these grapes are real, and the wine they make is simply delicious. I can see why the locals are so proud of it.

Mom, what does “borandacho” mean?
I don’t know sweetie, I think you made that up. But it sounds nice. Let’s pretend it means to invite friends over for a lovely cocktail hour of pisco sours and vino tinto. We’ve been having fun entertaining our Chilean and non-Chilean friends alike. Even in our little apartment, friends are always welcome. They sure do drink a lot, though. I’d better open a fresh bottle.

Mom, why is it spring and is it still Christmas?
(Heavy sigh) Tough question. Let me begin by finding a corkscrew. I got this bottle of wine at the store for only 2,500 pesos. That’s about $4.50 and could be considered mid-priced. Ounce-for-ounce, it’s not much more than bottled water. And dang… its good! Where is my glass?

Mom, do birds take medicine?
Beats me, but Mom has a touch of a cold and I don’t need no stinkin’ medicine. What we need around here is some chips! And guac! Who took my glass? Oh, there it is. OK, so I’m getting rather pickled. Oooooo, pickles. I wonder if we have any…

Mom, do buffalos talk, or do they just hug?
What? Are you still up? Its "borandacho" time, baby, and you shouldn’t see mom this way. Dad will be home soon and we should pretend that we’ve accomplished something today. Get your PJ’s on and hide this empty for mommy, will ya?

Mom, can we invite God over to our house sometime?
Sure, baby, that sounds nice. He can make some water into wine. I’m running a bit low.

Sisma

Danger Zone

Today I navigated the Death Spiral. Ciervo aptly named this man made hazard that we have to cross to get to the feria (see previous post), aka the “fruit parade” (as per Margarita). It is a dreadful concept whereby many cars traveling at high speeds due to centrifugal force careen around a circular concrete barrier only to be flung out in all directions, much like the ominous merry-go-round of our childhoods. You may know it as a traffic round-about. It terrifies me.

Por general, nada me da miedo. In general, there is little to fear here. But this is a big city and you can't be too careful. While downtown last weekend, we witnessed a woman get her earrings stolen right out of her ears. Ciervo witnessed an old woman being robbed from her car while she was stopped at a stop light (smash and grab). While violent crime is low, pick-pocketing (pick-earring?) and theft is common.

I guess I am a little afraid of my bread. Should I worry that it is labeled “molde” and made by “Fuchs”? (how do you pronounce that?). The old women armed with carts in the grocery stores frighten me. The amount of girls field hockey that Ciervo watches just worries me. But I am absolutely terrified beyond words that I will never, ever, no many how many visits I make, find the 'hint-of-lime' flavored Tostitos at the Jumbo.

Seriously mom, don’t worry about us. We take precautions and are careful. My purse is empty, my earrings are from Target, and my breath would stop any attacker. I brave the traffic circle of death only when there’s no other option. The only thing threatened here is my sanity, which has been known to spiral out of control.

Sisma

El Campo

On Sunday I went to the farm with Catalina. We drove in a car. We drove a long time. I rode on a horse with Catalina. The white horse jumped when I smacked his bum.
We switched seats when we got to the tree. We ate dinner with the whole family. We had a barbeque. We ate steaks and chorzipan. I hope that I go back to the farm again.
Happily ever after.

Margarita