Rojo, Blanco y Azul...

Back in March, while Leandra was visiting in Portland, President George W. Bush scheduled a tour of South America, including a stop in Montevideo. The week before his arrival dozens of monstrous military planes came roaring over the city bringing all the equipment and personnel he requires. The day he would arrive, the Rambla was shut down, all the dumpsters removed, naval boats patrolled the shore, and you can be sure unseen security forces were strategically hidden among the cityscape. Uruguay actually had to cancel all of the weekend futbol games to provide enough police for the president. It struck me as sad that the "leader of the free world" needed so much security to visit a harmless country like Uruguay--although, there were vociferous protests planned, and graffiti saying things like "fuera Bush" (Bush get out) and "Bush asesino" (Bush is a murderer). To me, it was another scary sign; if the majority of the kind people of this neutral country openly criticize Bush's leadership, what does that say about the international perception of the United States government in general? Then again, it was also surprising to learn that many Uruguayans are very grateful to the current president; apparently, he approved some badly needed financial aid to Uruguay ($1.5 billion) when the people were suffering severely during the economic crisis of 2002--although, you can infer that the motivation was primarily political because according to a BBC report, this was the first time his administration provided any emergency funding to any country in economic crisis, and it was strictly a temporary loan, but nonetheless greatly appreciated in Uruguay. Well, my friends, the Matho's, live on the Rambla and invited me over to watch his entourage pass by. The waterfront road was closed hours ahead of time, and people milled about awaiting this rare spectacle. Everyone waited--he was late--but eventually, the television showed him waving to the cameras at Carrasco International Airport, along with the First Lady, Laura, and Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, as they transferred from Air Force One to Cadillac One. Soon, we saw the red, white and blue lights weaving down the Rambla in the distance, until they approached our bend in the boulevard and blew by at 100 km/hr, weaving in and out of the island dividers, in a hysterical high-speed parade of Uruguay's finest, followed by a dozen black blinking Hummers sandwiching the impregnable presidential limo, and then a long string of increasingly less impressive local vehicles: compact cop cars trying to keep up, motorcycle cops maxing out on RPM's, a couple of straggling mini-van ambulances--I could have sworn the last vehicles were clown-costumed pooper-scoopers on a golf cart and a lost pizza delivery guy on an electric moped...

The whole spectacle took just over six hours: six hours of waiting, and three seconds of the United States speeding by. The people who patiently waited along the Rambla looked around in circles, sort of bewildered, then they broke up and went home to probably watch the news and the protesters chanting and fist-pumping and looking for a McDonald's to throw rocks at, which they did. The president rented out an entire hotel, had dinner, and spent the next morning at a short press conference with President Tabare Vazquez, smiling, saying some significant sounding words, shaking hands and then racing off to the next stop on his tour...

It was interesting to say the least...

A few months later, we recieved an email invitation to the U.S. Ambassador's home for an open house party the week before the Fourth of July. We--and several of our growing number of gringo friends--decided to check it out...

Passports in hand, we were permitted past the security guards. It was no surprise that the residence was a colonial mansion...

Inside, after greeting Ambassador Frank Baxter and his wife, we found our friends, the Stulls--Chuck, Maria, and Susan--in the foyer. One ambassadorial privilege is picking art from American museums to decorate the residence!

Late June was too cool to invite taxpayers to use the pool, but some future voters enjoyed billiards in the indoor barbecue room nearby...

Meanwhile, we found more tri-colored friendlies in the outdoor tent, and sampled the buffet: donuts, lox, cream cheese and bagels and big pretzels--other than the donuts, it was surprisingly dry and disappointing...

Then everyone was invited back inside for the color guard ceremony--very nice. More of our new Montevideo friends, the Vorwallers, Marcus and Jenny, are on the right...

Chuck and I exchanged smiles as the marines marched between...

With the children gathered behind him on the stairs, Ambassador Baxter gave a speech--it wasn't bad, albeit prolix and non sequitur...

Did you know that U.S. presidents have a long history of appointing non-career ambassadors, instead choosing them based on their financial campaign contributions and fund-raising efforts? And, even though legislation was passed in 1980 to prohibit this practice, presidents from both political parties continue to ignore the law, with the current commander-in-chief setting the record for the ratio: 36% of the ambassadors appointed by the current president literally "purchased" their positions with their contributions! In all fairness, Clinton appointed 29% percent using this criteria...

So, I'm going to start saving my money. Maybe, someday, I can be an ambassador too! "Ambassador Leandra Smith and her husband, Adam," has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

After the ceremony and speech, we admired more art before returning to the reception area...

Hooray! Finally a way to reap the rewards of my taxes--free beer! Now, the caterers were all local, and for some reason, waiters in Uruguay usually pour beer straight into your glass, without tipping it, producing a large amount of foam. In addition, keg beer is extremely rare--I don't think I've seen any here in eight months--and anyone that's been to college knows that it can be a bit tricky to properly depressurize a keg, and get a glass that isn't all bubbles. So, with all of that working against me, it was comical to watch the bartender fill every glass and pitcher he had, then patiently wait for the foam to melt back into liquid, then combine four inches of beer into one glass, then repeat the whole process...

It doesn't get more American than this. Or, maybe it does...
As we left, we posed for a patriotic photo with the U.S. Marines...

A week later was the Fourth of July, and our friends, Aaron and Emily, decided to have a barbecue for all their American friends. Unlike the typical Independence Day celebrations stateside, this one was on a cold winter day that got dark by late afternoon...

But, it did include all the other requirements: a glowing grill, lots to eat and drink, and a gathering of friends and family. On Leandra's left are our old local buddy Javier, a brand new friend named Brian, and other old pals Chuck, Marcus, and Jenny...

Chuck's dad, Bob, was in town for a visit along with Brian's girlfriend Heidi, Chuck's wife Susan, three fifths of the Winkleman family--Don, Keshia, and cute little Drayson--and our hosts Aaron and Emily. Somewhere in the house are about a dozen more kids and friends: Suki, Andres, and the youngsters, Max, Emma, Madelina, Ike, Victoria, Elijiah, Jalen, David, Mateo, Milena, Kai, and Lucia...

Total carnivorousness...

Aaron grubbing on one of the meaty masterpieces...

Soon, we were all on the street launching fireworks that Aaron had acquired while confused Uruguayans peered out their windows at the "gringos locos" or attempted to zoom past in their cars...

More than once, a bottle rocket blasted by the window of a passing taxi or pizza guy...

Of course, at some point we had the necessary sparkler war, with everyone simultaneously going blind while trying to write their names in retinal burns...


Leandra kept an eye on Ike, who, being a little over one, was still just about as confused as the local onlookers. But you know what--he was already a little more American...

Hopefully, the United States of America can some day regain some of the respect it has lost among other countries, despite it's damaged global image. Many of us rightfully have some serious criticisms and questions. But, if you're from the U.S.A., you are lucky--regardless of any opinions you may have about any aspect of the country. And, when a new friend from a foreign country sees my darts, I try to remember my fortune fate...