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...

Unbe-Lima-ble...

Awake before daybreak, we waddled our backpacks down to breakfast. After arriving at the airport, we crossed our fingers as we approached the LAN check-in counter. Our crazy tickets had us flying LAN to Lima, LACSA to Santiago, then LAN again to Montevideo--and if we can't get our bags checked through these competing airlines, we'd be stuck with two hundred dollars in Chilean "reciprocity" fees just for leaving the international terminal to get to baggage claim.
Unlike when we left in Uruguay, this LAN representative refused to check our bags through, which was worrisome as we had to pray that the LACSA folk in Lima would be more merciful. But, safely seated on the plane, we swiftly swept over a crisp morning above Cusco, waving goodbye to the peaks of Peru and the mysteries of Machu Picchu. We would have one day to whirlwind through the historical sites of Lima...




Below our wing, Cusco lingers in the misty mountians...
Flying at 25,000 feet doesn't seem so high when the ground level is 15,000 feet. Somewhere down there is Machu Picchu...Running low on soles, we chose to cross our fingers and ignore the tour book recommendation to use the airport's accredited cabs--they cost 125 soles ($40 dollars)! Instead, a woman who was scouting out frugal tourists offered us transportation for 80 soles ($25), so we followed her outside to the queue of random street cabs--despite their reputation for running scams on foreigners. To our surprise, she was the driver! And, in a city of eight million people, where crime makes it dangerous to be a taxi driver let alone a tourist, according to her, she was one of two female cabbies in Lima--and she was seven months pregnant! So, we snagged her photo as she dropped us off...

First we sat for a big lunch along the edge of the Plaza de Armas--where notorious conquistador Francisco Pizarro first founded the city of Lima in 1535 for the Spanish Empire. As we ate, reading our tour book to plan our foot path through town, we found that there's a daily changing of the guard at noon at the Palacio del Gobierno! As luck would have it, it was quarter to twelve, and I hopped up, crossed the square, and peered over the crowd, past the police, and through the iron gates, to the long slow march of polished soldiers and their swords. A general stood stiffly on the steps, observing his men, who high stepped, stopping and turning, with all the pomp and precision you could imagine. Returning to the restaurant, I showed Leandra the pictures and finished my cold food, before we both strolled across the square toward La Catedral.
Pizarro was assassinated here in 1541 at his nearby palace when two dozen dissidents stormed in demanding a regime change. Apparently, despite being nearly seventy, Francisco still managed to kill two men and run down a third before a fatal slash to the neck brought him to the floor--as he died from multiple stab wounds, he scrawled a cross on the floor in his own blood! His long lost remains are now entombed in La Catedral after being rediscovered during renovation in 1977. It's weird saying "Smile!" while a man who murdered and plundered an entire culture rots just meters away. Then, we wandered off to a pigeon plagued convent for some serious history and architecture...With Palacio del Gobierno in the background, tourists and locals mulled about in midday. Unlike most of the surrounding structures, the 357 year old bronze fountain has survived multiple major earthquakes, witnessed numerous executions, assassinations, celebrations and even bull fights dating back to 1651! Yes, it's another UNESCO World Heritage Site...The elaborate twenty minute guard changing ceremony involves music, marching, sword unsheathing and the supervision of a stoic military figure in the entranceway...
La Catedral and current home of a famous conquistador's decapitated head and tortured torso...Convento y Museo de San Francisco--we bought tickets for the convent and catacombs tour, but had to wait an hour for the English version, so we ambled into the chapel...While we circled the pews checking out shrines and saints with our dueling digital cameras, a local man with two teenage boys offered to take our picture for us..."Uhhh, no," we said, and exited the church. Not only were they suspicious, but we don't need anyone to take our photo--I've got long arms and have mastered the art of clicking pictures of me and Leandra! And, we weren't about to put our precious--and valuable--little cameras in the hands of strangers...

We walked up the street to Lima City Walls park along the Rio Rímac, where a majestic metal statue of Pizarro oversees modern winding stairs, gardens, fountains and pathways. During construction, some formerly forgotten Spanish fortifications and foundations--built in the 1680's to protect the city from pirates and privateers like Sir Francis Drake--were re-discovered and incorporated into the design. A small group of school children giggled as they enjoyed a field trip. As we continued, we noticed the same three men loitering above us along the elevated street--they were following us, waiting for the right moment to rob us! As we walked they attempted to look nonchalant and unnoticeable, but we were onto them! Ahead of us, the park walkways went under a large overpass that crossed the river. So, when we walked underneath--and they were in position ahead, waiting for us to appear on the other side-- we spun around and speed-walked the other way! From then on, we kept an eye out for them, but we think we lost them or they knew we were aware. I was hoping they'd follow us, so we could whisper to a street cop that they were stalking us--but we never saw them again. We walked around some more busy city blocks before returning for our convent tour...

Pizarro, 180 men, 27 horses, and 1 canon defeated an Inca army of 80,000, including the execution of Atahualpa even after the imprisoned king paid a penalty of one room (7x5 meters, 22x17 feet) filled with gold plus twice that amount in silver. Smallpox and disease also devastated the population of over 12 million people in the Inca Empire...These walls helped defend Lima's rape of local riches from pirates (independent maritime mercenaries) and privateers (armed ship owners for hire, funded and authorized by the highest bidding government)...Leandra acting as if this crosswalk is keeping her safe from Lima's lunatic drivers...actually, I made her pose...The cloisters and courtyard inside the convent were as beautiful as the art and tile that lined all the walls. Unfortunately, photos were not allowed, other than this outdoor shot, so I had to be sneaky about pictures or risk an angry tour guide. Leandra blocked while I usually used the "behind the back" or "lag behind the group" methods...

Looking like a scene from Indiana Jones, over twenty thousand books and bibles, many over four centuries old, rest in the bibliotheca below an intricately carved Moorish balcony...(behind the back method)Crouching down, we crawled into the diminutive doorway to the catacombs, through the earthen halls and along open crypts filled with heads, clavicles, femurs and hips...Originally excavated in 1545, an unknown number of bones and skulls of over 75,000 dead dudes eerily reside on display...(lag behind the group method). Unfortunately, many of my unethically acquired pictures turned out blurry, blocked or just bad...

We still had a few hours left in Lima, and even though we now knew how Pizarro viciously robbed, raped and ruthlessly slaughtered thousands, disease delivered death to millions, and after seeing so many disconnected skeletons, we still wanted more. So, we headed for the Museo de la Inquisícion to better understand death due to religious intolerance. A mansion formerly owned by one of Lima's founding families eventually turned into the tribunal for identifying and incarcerating heretics during Latin America's version of the Spanish Inquisition. The carved court room ceiling (above left) is astounding, but so are the unpleasant devices that are still stored in the cramped catacombs below that served as prison cells where heathens lucky enough to live would have the truth tortured out of them. Meanwhile, the less fortunate non-believers were marched down to that fountain in the Plaza de Armas wearing tall conical caps with big red X's on their white prisoner robes, and thrown into giant bird cages before being publicly mocked, maligned and murdered...
Here's a picture of the process--notice the fountain...Here's a group of school girls happy to spend a day out of the classroom re-living the Spanish Inquisition on a catwalk over the catacombs while a giant gringo takes their picture...Outside the museum, the House of Congress has a proud Peruvian flag whipping overhead...And, the police take a nap in the safety of their protester-proof cop-mobile complete with water cannon, chain-link windshield and cow-catcher painted to resemble crocodile teeth...

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering in circles around city blocks, looking for the little civic nooks and crannies of colonial architecture, markets, and local life. We found folks doing their daily routines--they stared at us as we stared back. Several more churches were strung around and many Moorish balconies hung above the sidewalks. According to our tour book, several historic houses, now used as government offices, were worth a look, but unfortunately off limits. However, we found that a friendly request often got the guard or gatekeeper to let us in for a private peek and a free personal tour! Often, after getting a glimpse of our giddy pleasure, they would show us the secret sections of houses that tourists never get to see like a private salon, a priceless antique, or a rooftop view of the city! We can't recall which is which, but below are pictures in, outside, or near Palacio Torre Tagle, Casa Goyeneche, Iglesia de San Pedro, Iglesia de la Merced, Convento de Santo Domingo, Casa de Osambela Oquendo and Casa Aliaga...A noble family's very old carriage...An amazing stairway and a carved balcony above...The open-air market near the Convent of Saint Peter...Marvelous Moorish balconies...Leandra with one of our security guards turned hospitable host and tour guide...Most colonial structures have the classic Spanish courtyard surrounded by salons...The Islamic architectural influence via the Spanish Empire is part of what makes Lima unique...Florists preparing bouquets for the saintly ceremonies of the day...God's golden rays shining down on some solitary prayer-givers...Leandra and another caretaker who took us on a careful tour of another off-limits luxurious colonial-era home. In the background, San Cristobal hill...The central courtyard from above...And, one last look at La Catedral and the final resting place of Pizarro...

As late afternoon approached with our feet were worn thin from pounding the pavement, we decided to stop along a pedestrian mall for ice cream. Our morning taxi driver said she would meet us at five o'clock in the same place she left us. As we waited, and debated whether or not she would actually re-appear, a small cluster of street cops seemed to gather in an impromptu assembly--first a couple on motorcycles (or should I say mopeds?), then a few on foot, then a pair of patrol cars. Nothing wrong was going on--we think they were just grouping up to get their assignments or change shifts. Of course, Leandra loves the police, and--although we can't recall who started the conversation--we began to talk with an officer named Omar. He was very friendly, and we had a lovely conversation asking questions about this and that. Then, we posed for a great group photo with all the Plaza de Armas cops we could find. Eventually we gave up on our prearranged cab driver, and asked Omar to help us find another, knowing full well that he could get a better price than we could. The first taxi actually refused to lower his first offer, 40 soles (about $13.50), which was already a good price for two clueless tourists even after Omar gave him the "be honest" look. The second cabby offered to do it for 30 soles, and Omar nodded at us saying, "That's pretty good." Pretty good? That was like $10 dollars! Including tip, we paid $30 dollars for the same trip before! We actually got Omar's email, and send him messages every few weeks...

Look both ways Leandra...With that historic fountain and a horse carriage behind, Leandra posed with her new police pals. Omar is in the yellow sweater...

There was a beautiful, albeit pollution colored, sunset as we drove to Lima International. Now, for the hard part--getting our backpacks checked through to Montevideo, or having to pay $200 dollars in fees just to go through baggage claim in Santiago. First, we tried LACSA--they said no because we had flown in with LAN. We exchanged looks of "uh-oh." Second, we tried LAN--they said no because we were flying out with LACSA. We exchanged "oh no" looks. Soon we were in a desperate escalating spiral of, well, basically begging and climbing our way up the chain of supervisors--at one point we stopped some "higher-ups" walking down the concourse, who immediately walkie-talkied another upper-level manager to help us out. Well, eventually, after literally about three hours of going in circles, getting glimmers of "let me see what we can do's" only to have them become "sorry no's", we finally reached the top ranking representative at LAN who basically said, "Sure we can do it, no problem", and (whew!) our bags were checked in with LACSA to be transferred for us to LAN in Santiago, and meet us in Montevideo! Two hundred dollars in reciprocity fees avoided again! To say the least, we were happy. With our last few soles, we hit some duty free stores and bought some snacks and drinks to tide us over until Uruguay. All that remained was one more over-night stay in Santiago's international terminal--we were praying that the MoviStar couch would be unoccupied...
Whenwe were safely past the x-ray machines and waiting to get on at our gate knowing that we avoided two hundred dollars in fees plus just having had one of the best three week adventures of our lives, and after a long hot day hoofing around Lima and wrestling with LAN and LACSA, we enjoyed two cold brews from Peru--we enjoyed them very much...
Once we landed in Santiago, we were thrilled to find that Hotel MoviStar still had a vacancy! Curled up in our "borrowed" LACSA blankets and pillows on a nice cushy couch, we slept the night away before boarding our final early morning flight with LAN...

And then, we were back in Uruguay--and so were our backpacks--then in Montevideo, in Punta Carretas, in our little apartment, in a hot shower, and in bed for a nap.

We were home.