An inquisitive old fart with a camera
Some interesting things going on in little Uruguay. A couple of reads:
New York Times: Uruguay Video Game Startups
Uruguay’s One Laptop Per Child Program (thanks Marcos Cristoforo Mercer)
Related: my blog about CIEBAL, Uruguay’s OLPC program
Newcomers from California have posted a blog entry about their experience with rural Uruguayan elementary school. I’ve posted before about the umm, unusual school uniforms here. Here’s the explanation.
“The public school uniform in Uruguay has been like this since the beginning of the century, with every child wearing the white dust cover and the blue bow. The reason for the uniform is to make it almost impossible to make fun or to comment about the quality, level of maintenance, or brand of the clothing underneath. It was a democratic and egalitarian effort to make every child look the same way with non-expensive clothes, and equalize opportunities. That is the spirit even today. The size of the bows, is just a tradition. Private schools do not follow this same tradition, but do each have their own uniforms.”
We absolutely love the tradition. Our kids don’t feel embarrassed wearing them since all the other children wear them. They do take them off as soon as we get home, but it’s nice not to have to worry about what they are going to wear at school.
I highly recommend reading the whole article: Escuela Rural on the Waystages blog (waystages.com/?p=106)
20190709 update: apparently a one-year wonder. This of February 2017 appears to have been their last blog entry, celebrated by their last meaningful Twitter post. Their Youtube channel ended shortly after their arrival in 2016. Their Facebook page went cold in November 2017. Well, best of luck to you wherever you are!
Guest post by Syd Blackwell
If you drive east on the interbalnearia (coastal highway) from Montevideo, then switch to Ruta 9 at Pan de Azucar, you will reach the start of Ruta 12, that runs north towards the tiny village (less than 100 persons) of Pueblo Edén, Uruguay. The vibrantly green hills and valleys along this route are, in my opinion, the most scenic of Uruguay. On one of these hills, just north of the village, you will find Lote 8, a unique experience in olive oil production.
The operation, owned by an Argentinian family, offers tours, tastings, and, of course, the opportunity to purchase products. As recommended, we pre-booked a tour for our group of four, to ensure we would have the services of Martin, an English-speaking guide. We wished, as their brochure offers, “to enjoy a unique place where nature and passion transform its fruit into true art.” We were not disappointed.
The property is lovely; the vistas superb. Martin began his tour among the olive trees, where the fruit was still green and not yet ready to harvest. He explained two different methods of harvest, one with a finger-like device to strip olives from the branches, and one a shaking device to shake down olives. Matting below the trees catches the harvest.
Next, we followed the route of the fruit. First to a large grilled square in the floor where the harvest is dumped, and the conveyor that lifts it up to where the leaves and twigs are separated. Then the product moves through other machines that mix it with water, pulverize it into a slurry, and eventually separate out the valued oil. Finally, it is packaged, most in utilitarian bottles for Uruguayan supermarkets and such, and some in specially designed Mexican hand-blown glass bottles, suitable for gift purchases. Other products, such as soaps, candles, and chocolates, made with olive oil, are also available in the gift shop.
The buildings, the machinery, the layout, the total operation is just first-class. Great care is taken to produce this oil. Work also continues to add more features, more site beauty, to what is already remarkable. Step out of the processing room door and you look across a lily-pad covered pond, flanked by a bed of lavender, down and cross the grand greenness all around. This is a delight for visitors and workers alike.
The main product, La Repisada extra virgin olive oil, has already won numerous international awards, some of which are on display in the gift shop. Each of us purchased items for personal use and future gifts.
We were totally delighted with our experience and would definitely recommend a visit. More information and contact email can be found on their website.
A special thank you to Karen Higgs, who suggested such a visit in her blog, Guru’guay. Also, if you tell them you read Karen’s article [link no longer exists], you are given a discount on your purchases!
All photos except the first by Syd Blackwell.
Stocking up at the butcher shop for the holidays, we decided to try a pollo relleno (stuffed chicken). We had a choice: salado or dulce (salty or sweet). We chose the former, hearing that the latter had things like pineapples inside it. The guy helping us could have, but didn’t, explain what the salado stuffed shicken contained. Perhaps I should have known (ya think?).
Susan’s comment after cooking and cutting it open: How did a hard-boiled egg get in there?
Seems like I should have a clever which came first? comment, but I don’t.
Since we’ve recently had painting done, we thought it time to try to address some persistent moisture problems on parts of the wall that couldn’t be painted. Inside, our new do-anything guy removed all the revoque (surface) of a section of wall, drilled lots of holes, and set bottles of Igol Infiltración, which eventually empty themselves into the surrounding brick and waterproof it. We hope.
Outside, despite being almost directly below a valley in the roof where the most water pours off, the owner/builder apparently made no provision for waterproofing the subterranean part of the sunken living room wall. Even though fixed in place, the pretty-but-shitty window on the right allows water into the wall as well.
Meanwhile, our Namibian tenant in the campo sought advice from a local South African with lots of building experience, and the two launched into solving water problems on the flat roof there. Typical of Uruguayan construction, the bottom of the drain pipe was slightly above the lowest part of the roof, leaving pooled water to soak through the inevitable cracks in the concrete.
I helped somewhat, but mostly watched and listened, trying to sort out what they were saying to each other in Afrikaans.
Between the to-and-froing, I managed to take Benji walking with all his buddies, and saw this decent-sized spider casually making its way across our path.
Yesterday evening, a Namibian farmer of German descent who relocated here showed me how the thorny branches of the two orange trees salvaged from my failed country growing attempt were in fact suckers, growing from the root stock, and would never contribute anything. I had no idea that orange trees were grafted! So those bits went away first thing this morning.
Then to start the rounds: butcher, vegetable stand, plant some squash plants in the campo, report to the glass people that the window they just installed leaks like a ________, take back to Tienda Inglesa a USD 8 LED light bulb that failed in less than a month, and then to the hardware store.
On the left, a swatch I made from the lovely color we painted the inside of the casita (little house) so I could consider it for the house in the country. The hardware store (ferretería) people were very helpful in instructing me how to mix one liter of brown paint into 18 of white, and so when the casita nearly exhausted our first batch, I prepared a second. Yes, what you see below on that swatch. Completely different color.
I took photos of the successful paint job in the casita, the mess in wife’s office, and the radical difference in color and coverage. I took a picture of a swatch of the second batch painted over the first.
And the paint containers.
The reaction of Ferretería Villa de Sol? Never mind different colored labels, never mind different numbers written on top, never mind the radically different results, these are exactly the same product. We don’t know what happened, and we’re really really sorry. Can we offer to help you find a solution? No. Can we contact the distributor or manufacturer? No (are you mad?).
Unfortunately in Uruguay, es loy que hay (it’s what it is). Accept mediocrity, because.
Speaking of which, recall my amusement at the cluelessness of people who obviously (great location!) had firewood, but offered no way to get it. A few years on, apparently a light bulb has illuminated:
I will add that perhaps before they did wholesale, but: the retail potential of their location should have been obvious long, long ago.
So, what else?
Wife pointed out that the fence we installed for dogs in the front yard was based on presence of bushes, not property line. Pear tree we planted is looking bounteous (bleh, crap photo), but it’s as though it’s chemically repelled by those bushes — notice how branches starting to the right reverse direction and grow to the left. With the revelation (what’s this about delayed light bulbs?) that I had an extra half meter to work with, I tore into the bushes. And will do more.
Go, pear tree. go!
Meanwhile, backyard, the butchered hibiscus offers today a couple flowers, for the first time.
Ready for a glass of wine, dinner, and read a book. My day in Uruguay.
Friends are buying a lot and want to build a rental house. Recently they visited a construction expo in Montevideo and became fascinated with prefabricated houses imported from Australia. Today we went with them to view a couple of them.
The prefab house in the foreground is built to the same plans as the single-brick house in the background. The one in the foreground is less than a month into construction, and will be complete in less than two months from start. The one in back took two years.
Additionally, the prefab is extremely well insulated. The vertical wall elements are filled with flammable styrofoam, but isolated from one another. In other words, each is its own cell, so even if one caught fire inside, it would not easily spread. Meanwhile, in the “wet” (traditional) construction house, which has never been occupied, the excessive moisture and lack of ventilation has created (typical) mold problems. Again, before people have even been living — and breathing — in that space.
I don’t have comparative costs, but two months versus two years, excellent insulation versus no insulation and moisture problems — should be a no-brainer, eh? Well, there’s something lacking in the warm-and-fuzzy department in the interiors of the prefabs.
The “wood” floor doesn’t really remediate the shiny walls and industrial ceiling.
And then the details ….
In the end, though, you must consider that this is “cheap for rental” construction. This could be done with an impressive crown molding, but in this case the owner doesn’t give a shit (no offense, Joe). In fact, there’s supposed to be a video on their site, but I didn’t find it on a quick perusal (tonight’s pizza night; I’m on duty). One could easily do a lambriz (thin tongue and groove) ceiling which would be much more simpatico.
You can make the walls much more attractive with textured paint. All a question of cost. Still, pretty exciting stuff, Isopanel.
We really appreciate the opportunity, every other week, to buy fresh-as-you-can-get-it organic produce at bargain prices. Here Ricardo has just harvested a variety of acelga (Swiss chard) for us. Acelga is arguably the vegetable in Uruguay — if you order ravioli or canelones con verduras in a restaurant the verduras will be acelga. You can get it year-round. It took us a year or two to realize this was our desirable spinach substitute, since spinach is only occasionally available. And needs much more washing.
So then off to our chacra nearby where the in-places knee-high grass needed cutting. A couple of wild ducks flew into our tajamar, but decided the noise of the lawn mower was offensive, and left. I had seen one on my previous trip. Other posts about the pond we created. It’s an interesting experiment in “letting nature do its thing.”
Then there was the twice-monthly (because “bimonthly” can mean either twice a month or every two month; thanks English language) Atlántida-area English-speakers’ get together. 23 people showed up. Many lively (and funny!) discussions. Nationalities included Uruguay, US, Canada, England, Holland, and Germany. On other occasions we’ve had South Africans, Argentines, and no doubt others I can’t think of right now.
And this Saturday Occupy Couch performance art.
Beautiful weather the last few days, but I’m on dog-walking hiatus because he managed to slice open his foot on one of the multiple garbage dumps where we walk with Syd’s five dogs.
So this photo is from a few days ago.
According to Syd, someone spent a winter in this structure. It was intact when first I saw it.
Other trash sites include old furniture, TVs, and just about anything else you can imagine, including many things that could have been put in trash receptacles nearby.
Blue dots represent trash locations; Syd probably knows more. Light blue area is generally littered. And yes, there is a pile of broken TVs and other appliances just meters from the streets that have trash receptacles, and no, not all the trash predates the receptacles.
You may recall the dog we found and the mess its owner couldn’t be bothered to clean up.
An Uruguayan friend in nearby Parque del Plata told me that he and his wife spent a considerable amount of time cleaning up the corner lot opposite them, where neighbors left their trash, when the trash containers arrived. (OBTW there was trash pickup before the containers.) Shortly after, he watched a man in his 50s walk past the trash container to dump his trash in the open lot. When confronted, the guy said, this is the way I’ve done it all my life. He was eventually trained out of that habit. It took about a year.
There is:
Corvina (drum)
Lenguado (flounder)
Merluza (hake)
Cazon (school shark)
Angelito (angel shark)
Tambera (type of corvina, I think)
Camaron (shrimp — way too much work and tiny OBTW)
Mariscos (shellfish, seafood: not sure what they mean by this)
Lisa (mullet)
We buy only the first two. The others tend to range from weird to nasty.
It appears we’re in the veranilla — couple days of “little summer” before it gets cold again. Walked the dog in a t-shirt. Had I gone to the beach, I might have worn shorts and walked barefoot. Recall that this is the equivalent of the end of February in the northern hemisphere. Should be this way tomorrow as well.
Then the forecast for the weekend is the Tormenta de Santa Rosa, which means wind — lots of wind. And rain. And Dutch pirates not attacking Lima. But that’s another story.