Circles of Life

I'm hoping that this post will help me fall off the wagon when it comes to not writing, and with the events recently I think it's time!  The last two weeks have been pretty bi-polar around here. The phrase circle of life is very cliche (thanks, Lion King), but it really has hit me like a capoeira roundhouse recently.

Two weeks ago today, I attended the first funeral visitation in my life. I've been pretty lucky up to this point in dealing with the ends of life, i.e. I have not had to deal with it! My co-worker's wife passed away after about five years of battling lung and brain cancer, and although I didn't ever have the chance to meet her, just attending the visitation was fairly traumatic to me. I was confronted with feelings that hadn't really hit me before, but I put on a brave face and got through the visitation unscathed. But I felt like I had totally disrespected the experience by trying to be wooden with my emotions and dwelled on it for the rest of the evening, trying to understand the pain and loneliness that my coworker would be going through, knowing that they had no children and by his stories in the past how much he had loved her. I had a really hard time with it all night and actually lost quite a lot of sleep over it. I attended the funeral mass the next morning and felt like I was able to connect a lot more to my emotions and, thankfully, that awarded me with a sense of closure that was missing the day before. It made me think a lot about my relationship with my wife and how lucky I am to have someone that I can talk to and experience life with, although she was out of the country for the past month!

Fast forward just two days later, and the point hit home when I was told that my own grandmother had passed away after years of battling her cancer while waiting for Erika at the airport. I don't know if it was better or worse that I had gone through so much in the previous few days, but I definitely felt farther away from my family than I had for a long time. I yearned to be back in California and since I had moved to New York I knew that this day would come, especially recently as hospice had been coming to her house to let her go painlessly and peacefully. No matter how prepared you think you are for this event, and knowing that it's going to happen soon, knowing that you won't be able to have a conversation about their life with them again is hard, obviously. I definitely feel like I missed out on being there at the end, but I hope to find some closure for this event at Christmas time when I can be with my family and visit my grandma for the last time. I won't forget her voice and my memory of her will always be of her healthy years when she swing danced with me on the family ranch so many years ago!

As chapters end, so chapters begin. After six weeks of talking to my in utero "daughter" and wife over Skype, we found out that "she" was actually a he. If the ultrasound technician can't really tell the gender of your child, isn't it better that they say "we don't know yet" rather than "we think it's a girl, but we can't guarantee it yet"? It's going to take a while for me to come around to him being around in the belly, but like the doctor said, of course I'm happy it's a boy :o) . It's fun to think about all of the permutations that our child could have, but of course I assume that he will have olive skin, be handsome (i.e. look more like his mother), blue eyes, and thick blonde hair, but I have a feeling that I'm going to be his biggest fan even if he looks like a little cholito from South America :o).

We're in fully baby prep-mode around here and are beginning to think about baby journals. We looked at some at Barnes & Noble but they just seem to artificial and lack the personal touch, so we are thinking about going the creative route with making our own. Having done some research, I think it's going to be a lot of work, but if I'm going to be documenting it on paper and in pictures, I think I can at least do it online via my blog as well! Maybe I need a new blog :-$??? We'll see about that. In any case, if anyone has experience with scrapbooking baby journals, by all means let me know!  

In other news, there is a lot going on with our friends. Alan and Andrea just had baby boy number two!  Melissa and Jonathan have begun planning their wedding for next summer - in Aruba! Priya and Manny are engaged and are planning their wedding for next summer - in Jamaica (rumors)! Yinety and David are engaged and I can only assume that they are planning their wedding for next summer as well - in the Dominican Republic! Thanks a lot folks, couldn't you at least space your weddings out a year, or are we going to have to move down to the Caribbean for the summer? Not to mention Sean and Roberta's potential "wedding" in Italy - next summer. When else??

Season's greetings to everyone, stay in touch!

J. Riley, send in those baby journal ideas all of you Martha Stewarts out there!

Ambitionz as a...Drivah?

Since I'm half-baked at the moment (my favorite B&J froyo), I figure that I can dedicate a blog title to the great, late rapper Tupac Shakur, who was a visionary, who sought change, and died trying. But he didn't change his lifestyle enough and was eventually gunned down after getting involved in the east/west hip-hop gang wars. I suppose Tupac was named after the last Peruvian Inca Tupac Amaru, who resisted change until the end and eventually succumbed to the Spanish conquistadors, who tied each of his limbs to a horse, and then unleashed the horses, who tore his body literally apart in front of the remnants of the Incan empire in their capital city of Cusco. Visuals aside, both Tupacs resisted the change that was necessary to survive.

Although not quite so extreme, there's gonna be some change in my life to come, and regardless of the outcome, there will be a car involved, and I will be a "drivah". I spent the last four days of last week up in Massachusetts with my mom, sister, and wife and became reacquainted with relatives, checked out some of the tourist hot-spots in the state and region, and spent some time in a great city and it's charming residential areas. I thought I had a rough sketch of my future residence in California, but Boston wooed me with it's perfect weather, it's urban and academic atmosphere, it's houses with marvelous and historic character, it's New England charm, and so many wonderful distant relatives of mine. I'm not sure if I can say that this has thrown a wrench in my plans, but it is an intriguing option that appealed to both of us. Of course, ask me in six weeks when it starts snowing there, and things can change in a hurry!

I'm at a cross-roads in my family life, and things are just not falling into place perfectly. But can they? I'm not so sure they can. No matter where I end up, I will miss everything that New York City offers. I've been saying for a while, why stay here when I can't enjoy everything it has on offer? But we do enjoy so much of what it offers with it's melting pot (or at least a salad!) environment that I take for granted until I visit somewhere that doesn't offer that to the same degree (like Boston). Public transportation is the best thing ever invented, but in seven months it's going to turn into a huge pain in the ass.

And where do I go from here? Just today I had a conversation with someone who had moved recently and whose children missed their old neighborhood, it's shopping centers, it's bread (??), and other things like that. It seems so easy just to pack it up and move out to California, but things will be so different there! We will miss walking to the grocery store and being able to buy almost any ingredient that we want. We will miss having every clothing store in existence a mere 30 minute subway ride away. Of course, we will have family there, which is a huge, huge bonus that can't be measured. What about moving to Boston? We would be in a charming environment, have to deal with snow and more of the same weather that we deal with now, and uncertainty as to whether family bonds could be established after thirty three years of neglect. But at least the option is there and we could settle into something and establish a home that would be our own. And then there is always international destinations like Peru, where we would have countless family members, certain employment for Erika, fresh fruit, vegetables, and all types of food from neighborhood markets. The language issue and the culture change wouldn't bother me too much, but I wouldn't know too many people (which Erika has had to deal with here as well!), my profession would most likely have to change, and I would need to deal with the crime and pollution that Lima offers. We could even stay more or less local and relocate to Long Island or (gasp!) dirty Jersey. We would be able to maintain some form of relationship with our current environment and our friends, but we know absolutely nobody in those outer regions and would be just as far (or farther) from our family then we are now! So, there is no perfect scenario, but what is certain is that there will be change in store in the future.

On the other fronts, it seems like Erika is progressively getting better and starting to feel human again, though it could change at any moment! I've been delving into my local libraries and reading some great books, such as "Born to Run", "Freakonomics", "Shadow of the Wind" (a good read before and after Barcelona!), "Where Men Win Glory: The Odyssey of Pat Tillman", and a few others that I've already forgotten. The idea of getting an eReader is becoming more appealing to me, especially as I've discovered that I can actually check out eBooks from the library. One of my biggest issues with the eReaders is that I don't want to have to buy books. I don't buy them now, I'm never going to read them again most likely, so why should I pay $10 for a book? But if libraries, an tax-paid-for asset that many people don't take advantage of enough I think, can rent me a book for a Nook (sorry Kindle and iPad fans), that has some appeal. Of course, I don't really have an issue with carrying a book now, so I really don't see any reason to buy an eReader in the first place! But it would be nice for trips.

J. Riley, I have to admit defeat - I most likely won't finish Barcelona and Germany! Maybe I'll publish some cliff notes!  

Meet The Cuevas

Unlike Meet the Parents/Fockers, the sequel of Meet the Cuevas in San Marcos, Cajamarca, Peru was actually better than the first one that was released about a year and a half ago. It was certainly different than the first trip, especially considering the fact that I was picked up by Erika's dad and spent the first night at Erika's aunt's house without her around. And of course, no one speaks English so it was certainly a big challenge for me to communicate. But the challenge was met and I was dominate with my Spanglish, dropping some jokes and getting some laughs out of everyone. It was challenging, but I proved again that when Erika isn't around to translate, I can drop it like it's hot!

Among some new bad words, one thing that I did learn or was reminded of was the fact that Inca Kola, a staple of every meal in Peru, contains caffeine. To demonstrate my reaction to caffeine, on the rare days that I am sleep walking to work and cannot wake up, I put literally 1.45 inches of coffee in a cup and I'm wired for hours. So drinking ample amounts of Inca Kola at about 11:00pm and *not* following it up with equal parts of beer or liquor of some kind (which I was actually hoping for), means only one thing: insomnia. The Inca Kola, plus stressing about waking up late for our 5:00am flight, plus airplanes flying about 50 feet over the house as they come in to land (*much* louder than I remember at our house when the military planes would be pulling into Moffet), plus the usual orchestra of animals at night leads me and a rock-hard, 25" high pillow that was putting my spinal chord at risk of snapping led to zero sleep at night. Zero! That's the way to start a trip after flying all day and having a full half day more of travelling ahead of me!

So, with the trip off to a bad start, I headed to the airport the next morning with Pancrita (her dad's nickname that nobody can explain the meaning of), and had a pretty uneventful flight to Cajamarca. We took the taxi to the bus depot (garage) and were met there by Erika and her Mom, who woke up at 3:00am to take the bus to Cajamarca and meet us. Now that's some dedication! I was a walking zombie however and was just looking forward to getting on the bus and passing out. However, these buses are built for the little Peruvians, not strapping white-folk like me. Thing of those 1980s Toyota minivans (narrow, tall), expand the size by 50%, add about 35 seats, and you've got the Peruvian Combi. The seats are not plus leather, but basically springs covered by vinyl and 10" of leg room. Somehow, the Peruvians are soldiers and have no problem with these things, and in my past life I would relish the authenticity of such means of travel. But, I'm getting old and not having any leg room isn't cool, so I told Erika this is the *last* time I'm taking a Combi on a this two hour road-trip to San Marcos.

Well, once I made it to San Marcos, I was golden, and the few days I spent there were splendid and I was spoiled to life's full-extent. Does Justin want some breakfast? Yes please. Does Justin want some Ecco to drink? Yes please. Does Justin want to drink some beer with the men of the house, sharing a pixie cup? Yes please. Does Justin want some spicy, fried testicles from the sheep that was just butchered out back? Why not. Does Justin want to eat some Cuy (Guinea Pig)? Ummm, okay it's already spread-eagle and beheaded on my plate, so I guess so. Does Justin want some home-brewed 50-proof moonshine that can take paint off walls and that's sold in reused Sprite bottles or some chicha (a warm, frothy, full textured liquor made from fermented corn)? I think I'll stick with the beer and sheep testicles, thanks though!

Being spoiled doesn't come cheap or easy in these parts and life isn't easy, though. These people are hard-working honest folk. I was once asked, "what do they do for a living?", to which I responded, "They just live".      The women spend the day butchering the guinea pigs, free-range hens, or whatever other animal is going to be eaten, they collect peppers that are rampantly growing above the "shower", they collect herbs that are growing in between the "choclo" (Peruvian corn) stalks to spice Caldo Verde (a rich, green soup), etc. They take the animals (goats, pigs, sheeps, etc) out to mow down the brush growing everywhere on the farm. And, I had the wonderful opportunity to do some manual labor of my own along with Erika and her dad by knocking down the ripe "talla" off the tree and collecting the red pea-like-pods off the ground, which is painstaking on the back, knees, etc. The talla is collected and sold to collection agents that use the inside of the pods for making oil and red make-up.

Being Native American, I've long held the belief that I am immune to poison oak (which I have never contracted). But it doesn't start with poison oak; I am also immune to mosquitoes! People are always getting bit by mosquitoes and other small bugs and I never get bit. Despite my insistence on this FACT, Erika said I should put some repellent on because the mosquitoes were ravenous for human blood and I should put some jeans on. But it was way too hot to do manual labor in jeans, and I'm immune, right?

Soooo, it turns out I'm not immune. My upper body wasn't touched (except for some cyst-sized bites on various fingers - how the hell did they bite me without me seeing?). But my legs were dominated by the bastards. I counted 59 bites on my legs alone. Holy Jesus (Hey-Sus). I really don't think they were mosquitoes, cuz I didn't see any even touching me, but the swollen welts and gaping wounds on my legs told a different story. Maybe it was some other exotic bug that my people never built up a resistance to, unlike the Incas (especially since they didn't itch at all). All I know is that I'll be using more caladryl than soap for the next few days!

The main event for the trip was me becoming The Godfather. Our god-child Jimena, who is an adorable seven year-old with beautiful eyes (she'll be stunning some day I think) had her baptism on Saturday morning. Those of you in attendance at my wedding know how my Spanish goes in front of the priest. Well, this was even worse. I was mis-informed on what I was going to be saying to the priest, but likely I didn't have a microphone thrust down my throat, so I just nodded, mumbled, and avoided the glaring eyes of the priest as we went through the quick ceremony. Not my fault! Like I said, I was misinformed by everybody.

Unlike the short ceremony, the part was OFF. THE. HOOK. I lasted a few hours before I passed out in my room, but this party when twelve full hours and there was definitely high amounts of intoxication involved. These guys can certainly DRINK - and DANCE! I got dragged out quite a bit by my "comadre" (Jimena's mom), much to my embarrassment, but I had some fun. The family was trying to put me on a pedastool for travelling so far, but that was definitely uncomfortable and I just wanted to be treated like everyone else. I didn't need a metal fork to eat my sheep testicles. I didn't need a chair to put my plate of butterflied guinea pig on. I just wanted to blend in with everyone else, though physically that was clearly impossible!


At the end of the night, after my little napster, I re-joined the party and before I knew it it was mid-night and that means - Erika's birthday! So the party was definitely not done and in walked three really drunk mariachis - Cajamarca style, wearing the traditional Cajamarca sombreros and bellowing out mariachi songs. It was hilarious because they were so drunk and singing along with each other along with a guitar. They also lit twenty-four massive fireworks (one for each year of Erika's life ;o) that boomed outside, it was great! Everyone likes mariachis, even in Peru!

Despite my ear being attacked by a bastard of a mosquito and getting zero sleep again on the last night (true to tradition), the trip was really a good time. Unlike in Hollywood, the sequel was most definitely better than the prequel!

J. Riley, and the Combi ride on the way back to the airport? We took a taxi this time. The best $25 I spent in my life :o).

Si Se Puede! Change We Can Believe In!

I'm a changed man. Erika left me on Saturday morning for a multitude of reasons. Most of them are my fault, but one of them is because we are going to be god-parents in a few weeks and I cracked under the pressure, letting her fly down to Peru on her wonderful $200 round-trip ticket and leaving me all by my lonesome. Fear not, however, because I am going to be joining her down there on my $200 round-trip ticket in a week or so. I'm looking forward to the party, the culture, the food, and the vacation! I've got the speech that she wrote in front of me and hopefully I will be able to memorize it before the trip, though I'm sure I'll be reciting it after a few rounds of the shared pixie cup of beer so I have little faith that I'll be able to remember it without my cheat sheet.

But, really, I'm a changed man! I've decided that I need to prioritize some things in my life, including my focus on learning better Spanish. I've started up on my Pimsleur Spanish CDs again - which are amazing, by the way. Sucky commute got you singing the blues? Change the channel and pop these guys in your car's CD player and you'll be golden. I used to listen to one lesson on the way to work and then listen to it again on the way home just to make sure it sinks in. I actually discovered that it's not too difficult to get going with because most of the terms you first learn are pretty well known. OK, enough advertising for CD's that I can provide to anybody free of charge. To take my lessons a step further, I attended a free Spanish Conversation Group down at the NY Public Library last night. I was really nervous, thinking about a giant room full of people, most of whom were probably more or less fluent that just wanted to practice a little. I was surprised to find that there were only about seven people in the group and that I wasn't half bad compared to them. It was a nice confidence booster.

Seriously though, I'm a changed man! I bought some new running shoes recently and after a day of lonesome reflection after dropping Erika off at the airport, I decided that I'm going to train for a triathalon. It's more like a try-athalon, though. And it will be like an eXtreme sports version of it. I've already got the spin classes on my regular schedule and on Sunday I decided to hit the streets with my new shoes and go explore the rustic, polluted, and industrial parts of Astoria along the power plants and the East River with a 3.5K jog. I didn't do too bad, though my legs are killing me to this day and my whole body is sore from my legs all the way up to my head with some screaming neck muscles. I plan on incorporating more jogs into my schedule and have even considered jogging home from work, which would only be about a 30 minute job for me.

I'm most excited about the last exercise that completes my triathalon training. I've been tossing around the idea of getting a bike to ride to work, except that I have no place to put it and arriving at work as a sweaty mess just doesn't fit my image - though I wouldn't be totally out of place among the nerds at work.

But! I have rollerblades at home still! I haven't used these things since I moved from Manhattan, but couldn't just toss them since they are a decent enough pair with newish wheels. I decided that on Monday, I would jam the blades into my backpack and take them to work with me and see if I could find a decent route home with them on.

First of all, have you ever changed at work? I dunno about you, but I have a major complex when it comes to changing at work. Maybe it violates the separation of work and personal life that I strive to maintain on a daily basis. I feel almost naked when I come out of the bathroom with shorts and a t-shirt on. I've got to work on that some more and learn to lift the shoulders up (and suck the belly in :o/) and try to hide the pit stains on my grungy undershirts while I try to make a quick getaway.

In any case, I made it to the street where I mounted my twin pair of horses onto my feet. I realized that I left my insoles at home, which meant that my balance would be all messed up. Or maybe I'm just using that as an excuse for why I was flailing all over the first couple of streets with cars honking behind me. Come on, it's been three years, gimmeabreak. Plus, the only place I used to roll in the city were in Central Park with it's meticulously maintained outer-rim road that provided me with lots of room to fly and launch off jumps.

Well, Queens is no Central Park, that's for sure. True to it's industrial image, the streets are lined with gravel, the decrepit sidewalks are more or less poorly maintained, there are no street sweepers off the major routes, and the roads are lined with chop shops and auto mechanics that love to drip oil all over the place, making me look like a car in that old video game that hits the oil slicks. Plus, the road along the water, with surprisingly clearly marked bike routes, were pitted, uneven, and full of little rocks that tore up my virgin wheels. It was great! This route is clearly going to be challenging to master, but this spring I am going to have a go at it and see if I can manage to survive.

After blading home yesterday, I decided that my suffering legs needed a stretch so I did a little jog around the hood and through the lovely sculpture park, where people like to unleash their dogs and minks. Wait, WTF? Somebody let their mink/weasel thing off the leash and it was just hopping alongside them in the park. That was the weirded thing that I've seen since I saw somebody taking their monkey for a walk in SoHo one time. At least with a pet mink you can skin it and make a nice neck lining for your coat....

Easter was pretty depressing around here, what with Liverpool failing to qualify for next year's Champion's League, Erika having a family reunion and making chicharron with a whole pig at home with people that traveled 16 hours on a Peruvian bus just for lunch, my family having a family reunion in California with various liquor concoctions and Brie undoubtedly getting drunk, and with me reading a book about a girl who's jailed and tortured in Iran as a political prisoner. At least the weather was brilliant! What a happy day :o) !!

J. Riley, remind me to bring my bike helmet back with me from California. I'd rather prevent my head from meeting the gravel on these dangerous commutes home!

Deal....Or No Deal??

This weekend was full of amazing deals...or no deal??

• Deal: Ever since getting a newly styled haircut in Peru, I've been thinking about what I'm going to do when I need another haircut. Do I got back to my $10 barber and have them attempt to recreate the genius, or do I (acckkkk!!!) try a new hair stylist, randomly choosing one of the throng of hair stylist on my block. I hate going to new hair places, who knows if it'll end up like a mop chop-shop, similar to the plethora of the car variety that we have in the hood. I found one that looked reputable, and the haircut was $15, not bad! So I went for it!
• ....Or No Deal? It was disastrous. First of all, the lady didn't hardly speak any English, wish isn't a problem for me except that she didn't understand what I wanted. In Peru, the lady didn't speak English, but she went to town and my five hairs looked like a work of art. This lady decided to use a hair trimmer and cut it super short in one spot and asked Erika "Is this hair long enough?" What? What, if it's too short (and it was) should I have her use a longer trimmer so it's all uneven? I didn't see the back of my head, but Erika was on the verge of tears and started telling the lady how bad it looked, and she just kept saying "it's because his hair is blonde." Uhh, no it's not. It's because it looks like crap.  Eventually, the owner of the place (who actually knew how to cut hair) came over to finish off my hair cut and make the wife (and me) somewhat happy, although the damage was already done. Erika tells me it looks fine now, but I think she's lying ;o).
• Verdict: DEAL. $15 is still cheap for a haircut and I know nobody noticed my hair (other than the lack of it).

• Deal: Last year, Erika was in search of some boots to keep her feet warm and dry during our brutal winter. We couldn't find anything even remotely affordable. Everything was over $200 and we eventually found some boots (not waterproof) that were somewhat affordable, but they are just leather and not exactly warm with sub-zero (C) temperatures. I saw some interesting boots at Clarks the other week, so while we were out we stopped by there and we found some boots that she loved! They are different than her typical medium-height, Brazilian-style heel, boots that she wears, but they were both waterproof and real-fur lined (and not Fugly Fuggs). They are from Canada and should do the trick for sure - all for $109!!!! Recession shopping at its best!
• ....Or No Deal? They didn't have her size. So we bought a half-size bigger and she was satisfied enough, until we got home and she realized they are just too big for her. We went to another Clarks store, but they didn't have her size either. Was this boot love story going to have a sad ending?
• Verdict: DEAL! The store said they would order her boots in her size and have them shipped (for free!!) to our house. And since the boots were just over in Queens, they should arrive shortly, hopefully in time for the impending snow-storm.    

• Deal: I found out that it is possible that insurance may cover a portion of the Pre-Implantation Genetic Diagnosis lab testing. This will insure that any offspring that we have are Myotonic Dystrophy free, which is a relief.
• ....Or No Deal? The place that I got stuck with doing the testing is Out-of-Network. My Out-of-Network deductible is $3000. Ouch...
• Verdict: It's a lot of cash, but in the long run this is more important than cash. DEAL!

• Deal: 25% off at Banana Republic led to the resumption of shopping at my mecca for some badly-needed pants for work. I got a good five years out of a couple pairs of my pants and they were looking ragged and weren't fitting so hot. I did my due-diligence by checking out some pants at other places, but honestly I couldn't find any good deals on pants that didn't require tailoring for them to fit me. Not only that, but Erika found a nice wool layering sweater on the clearance rack. Not her favorite color, but it'll help keep her warm this winter.
• Verdict: DEAL. No qualms about this one, they were a great deal for pants that look hot and that fit my like a glove.

• Deal: My neighbors were moving out (I think) and ditched a cheap, light-weight, black coffee table at the curb. And what do New Yorkers do best? Go dumpster diving and pick up perfectly good things that are waiting to be picked up and delivered to one of the local landfills. The vacuum machine that I dragged all the way home from Jackson Heights (on the subway and bus) didn't end up working, but this table? AWESOME! Our TV no longer lives on a chair, it's on a sweet, perfect black coffee table. 
• Verdict: Duh, it was free and perfect and only had to be carried from downstairs to my apartment. DEAL!

Saturday was a great day, with all these deals, the fact that Liverpool beat their local rivals in a feisty match to continue their resurgence of form (finally), and that Saturday night we went out to the Sounds of Brazil (SOB's) nightclub for some Samba and Reggaeton dancing and drinks for one of our Dominican friends. Top top it off, we ate dinner at Pio Pio, which we haven't been to for a while. Alan and Andrea, this was a day for you!

Sunday, duh, was Super Bowl Sunday. With the real football over for the weekend, I got invited to the Bronx, but coerced Melissa to come down here since we could watch the commercials in HD. But Erika wanted to go to New Jersey. To a Chili's (where one of her friends works and invited us). Chili's + New Jersey = bad combination. Well, either of the two alone is bad enough, but a combination of them both is just vomit-inducing due to my snobbishness attitude. Thankfully, the other girl who was going to be the Jersey tour-guide had a vicious  hangover and wanted to hang out with us instead! Rather than waiting on hold to place pizza orders, we stocked up on Trader Joe's Rustic Italian Flat-bread and made some sweet homemade pizzas for us and our guests.


J. Riley, Overall, I can't complain about this weekend! Next topic will be about my latest addiction: KeyPass! The best way to protect your online accounts from getting hacked due to your weak passwords! :o)

Gossip Monger

I still haven't written about DC! GASP! AWWW! AGGGHHH! Oh, the humanity. I think people will survive. Anyway, I think I really love DC - for visiting anyway. I mean, where else in the country can you get so much historical culture on every corner? A few thoughts about DC that I will mention:

1. Museums. Museums, Museums, Museums! Normally, I find them to be mildly boring, even the ones in foreign lands that detail the deep history and mindset of the people across generations. I don't know why, but I get really tired in them after about an hour or two. But NOT in DC. Seriously, I know everyone says the Smithsonians are great and they are pretty well respected, but these places are tremendous. And they are all FREE! I have never been so captivated in history and so intrigued about everything as I was in the Smithsonians. They must have a massive crew of creative directors because you can't even put in words how amazing these museums are. The Air and Space Museum was okay (with it's nuclear missals and World War I and II era facts and stories), but the Natural History Museum, the American History Museum, and, most shockingly, the Native American Museums were spellbinding. Nobody ever cares about the Native Americans except for those of us who are genetically tribal (1/16 Cherokee in the house!), so to see so much time and space dedicated to a story that nobody ever hears about was surreal. We spent almost two days there. 
2. Generally speaking, the museum grub was decent enough, though outrageously expensive as expected. But the Native American Museums cafeteria was, again, a site to be seen. They had tribal-type food from all the different regions in the United States, plus a South American area where they actually served up authentic Peruvian grub. I could have chosen something better than the Indian tacos, but if I would have gone all "yogurt-shopping" on the place, I wouldn't have gotten out of there. 
3. On the other sign of the coin were the breakfast and dinner options. Seriously lacking. Like, criminally. I actually got stuck eating at McDonalds one day because nothing was open for breakfast near our hotel, other than the hotel buffet for a cool $16 a piece. Thank God that McDonalds is actually serving oatmeal with "fresh" fruit in it. I'll take two of those, thanks. The one day that we ate at the ritzy Kay Adams hotel (where the Obamas stayed, with a view of the White House across the street) that we stayed at with Sean and Roberta was horrendous. The service was so bad and everyone kept looking at Erika and I like we didn't belong there (because we didn't!). I guess if I had been wearing triple-pleated khakis with a Brooks Brother shirt while on vacation, I would have fit right in. I hope other guests tipped their waiters well, because I sure didn't. Dinner options near our hotel were also non-existent, so we stuck with large, late lunches and called it a day. 
4. We froze our asses off in DC. It was unusually cold for us there, especially to be out walking around taking in the WWII memorial, Lincoln memorial, Capitol building, and the Vietnam memorial. I sure would like to go down there during the cherry blossom festival when things are blooming, the grass is green, and it isn't 20 degrees not taking into account the 50mph winds (no joke). I tried to keep positive, but there were times when I almost thought about just giving up on life!

 So, overall, we loved Washington DC and it was even better than what I remember it being. I'm glad I got to take Erika there to experience it and she was as excited as me to take in the sites and learn about some good old American history. It's nice to take spur-of-the-moment trips like this before...somethings happen.

Speaking of that, Erika and I recently had a little appointment at the NYU Infertility Center with Dr. Alan Berkeley. Some of you know about this Myotonic Dystrophy that I've got. The fact that it is a genetic disorder means that any offspring of mine have a 50% chance of contracting it - and it could be a lot more serious in the next generation. The only way to get rid of it is by doing something called PGD (Pre-Implantation Genetic Diagnostics), which can only be accomplished through In Vitro pregnancies. So I'm happy to say that we have started down that road which is both exciting and scary. It is a long, difficult, financially and emotionally draining process, but so are children :o)! So stay tuned to the blog about more exciting stories about this!

J. Riley, I've got more dirt, but I gotta run! 

History Lessons

When mom asked if we could take a road trip when they were going to be here visiting, I had a couple ideas come to mind. Since I haven't really taken a road trip outside of Manhattan other than up to Cooperstown, it wasn't hard to find destinations. A fishing village in New England? Some hiking that would overlook the Hudson River valley? Long Island? Scenic lakes upstate? Washington DC? Through the process of elimination and in talking to my parents, we came up with Gettysburg and Philadelphia, PA.

Those of you that know me pretty well know that I've always been a history buff, and as a child I was particularly interested in the Civil War. Then I went through a Central and Eastern Europe phase after visiting Hungary, and recently (for some reason), I've been learning more about South American history. But the peculiar thing is that other than by reading books, I have little personal experience with early American history, other than a trip to Charleston and to DC as a 13 year-old. This trip would help me catch up and also teach Erika somethings about the United States that she was interested in.

So with Google Maps (and, thankfully, a rented GPS unit named "Miss Garmin") in hand, we took off for Pennsylvania at around 6:00am on Monday morning. The plan was simple: go to the Visitor Center and figure out what there was to do when we got there. I had heard that Gettysburg had a pretty well structured tourist route and dad confirmed it at 5:30 in the morning while we were all getting ready. We made it through Manhattan without any issues and about four hours later, we arrived in scenic Gettysburg.

At the visiter center, we found out we could take a personal tour of the battlefields with certified tour guides for the reasonable price of $50 and with tickets to the museum and the amazing and massive "Cyclorama" it came out to about $25 a person, which is not bad for a day's experience. The tour guide took the wheel of our rental car and four about three hours, we saw all the major battlefields and learned all about the three-day battle that turned the course of the Civil War. It may not sound that interesting, but I think we all agreed that it was a thrilling experience and ignited my fire to read more about the history that I loved reading about as a child.

After spending the day in Gettysburg, we hit the road again and pointed Miss Garmin in the direction of our Hotwire-acquired hotel in downtown Philadelphia. We got in pretty late and wandered around trying to find some food (this city was definitely not one that never sleeps!) and eventually came across a sports-bar that served up some pretty decent food and home-brews. We had planned on taking advantage of Restaurant Week and eating high-class for low prices, but everything was closed by 10:00pm - pretty weak in my book! But we were beat anyway and had a busy Tuesday planned, so getting to bed by midnight was definitely top of the list!

On Tuesday morning, we had some Belgian waffles and then decided that we should probably figure out what there was to do in Philadelphia, since we had no idea. We found the Tourist Center on a map and soon found out that all of the tourist stuff in town was run by the National Parks Service and was, therefore, free!! We got tours of Independence Hall, pictures with the Liberty Bell, went to Benjamin Franklin's printing press, saw the Tomb of the Unknown Revolutionary War Soldier, learned about some of the original documents signed in the 1700s, and took a bus tour around town for $2. And, obviously, we ate an amazing Philly Cheesesteak to make sure that our heart's cholesterol levels were higher than they were before we went on our trip.

Philadelphia as a city is, as a matter of fact, not that bad. It's definitely a city with black or white, and no shades in between. And I'm not just talking about race! It has beautiful architecture all over town, but take the wrong exit and you're in the ghetto of all ghettos. But even the ghettos look like they just need some fixin' up and you've got an amazing Victorian house on your hands. The people in Philly were generally nice and it had a big city feel without the attitude and rush that people in New York have. Nice restaurants were planted all over town and prices were pretty reasonable.

Overall, it's hard to describe the trip, but I did learn more about American History than I have since probably High School (which isn't saying much!) and I highly recommend both places as destinations for history buffs. And I further confirmed that my parents are probably the best travel companions I could ask for!

J. Riley, my library queue has grown significantly after this trip!

The Gettysburger and Turkish Delight

This past weekend marked my parent's third trip out to New York to visit - but their first visit since I've lived outside of Manhattan. It was also going to be an interesting trip since they've seen the museums and the typical tourist stops and also because my mom wanted to drive through "the country" and see some landscapes, which would be the....second time I've made a trip outside of Manhattan since I arrived on these shores six years ago (slight exaggeration, but not by much).

My parents arrived Friday evening after a looong day of flying delayed - and feeling quite famished. Apparently, Delta's low-cost flights are self-subsidized by charging for the food and for "extra baggage" (i.e. everything not carried-on). We put that issue to bed by feeding them with a taste of Astoria: my famous (in my household of two) Harissa Spaghettini along with fresh, soft whole wheat pita breads and hummus - which I knew mom would love since she's a big fan of Greek food. Apparently they weren't kidding when they said they were famishes since we nearly polished off two pounds of whole wheat pasta between the four of us.

From there on out, we were non-stop for four days - although it really didn't seem too rushed. Let's break it down, bullet-point style...

New York:

• We woke up at the Haines/Salazar household version of the "butt-crack of dawn" for a Saturday - sometime around 8:00am - in order to fit our busy schedule into the day.
  
• Naturally, this started off with a mouthful of carbohydrates from the place that I consider to have the best bagel in New York - Brooklyn Bagel and Coffee Co., right here in Astoria. We were running late for the next planned event though, so we grabbed our bagelwiches and jauntied down to the subway - destination Union Square.
  
• We had a game to catch! It's been eons since I've made the road trips down to the 11th Street Bar to watch a Liverpool game, and dad was pretty stoked on trying one on for size, while the girls were perfectly happy to peruse the stores in Union Square rather than cram into the jam-packed bar at 10:00am. And, being one of the most important games of the season so far, it was a good day to be among Kopites as the Everton jeers were silenced by a 4-0 pounding of Burnley. I introduced dad to the folklore of the game, the stories and biographies behind the players, and the play-by-play & strategies of the game. I think dad has been converted ;o). The girls also scored with a hat-trick of their own by identifying plenty of things that they wanted to pick up the next day during their shopping blitzkrieg.
• We had no time to spare when we stopped for a brief grab and go lunch at Rice, because we had a Big Onion tour of NoLIta and SoHo to take. We were introduced to the cast-iron facade architecture of beautiful SoHo, the history of the buildings, and the location of 18th-century brothels before wandering over to the "other" St. Patrick's church to marvel at in NoLIta. It was a bit of a crowded tour considering the location, but it was interesting nonetheless.
  
• After marveling at Manhattan's first skyscraper (the Flatiron Building) and dropping of some papers in Chelsea, we slowed down and stopped to smell the flowe...-ing sewage at a small cafe to get our caffeine and sugar fix to keep us going. We didn't have much of a schedule to work off of at this point, so we loitered around, checked out furniture and the mattresses at Macy's (including the dreamy Tempur-pedic) and then headed off to dinner in Astoria with Shane-the-bitter-blue and Susannah at Mundo.
• Mundo is hot. This place serves crazy delicious Argentine and Turkish-influenced food that Susannah and Shane are willing to travel an hour for. The place just has a really friendly vibe and the Argentine host (his name is Willie, apparently) is an expert in all things Astoria. We dined on delicious conversation, platefuls of sultry food, and several pitchers of sangria before we decided to try a recommended night-cap at the nearby (and recently opened) Sweet Afton, which was packed at the early hour that we arrived. Willie highly recommended the Red Lemonade and he was on the money with that one. It was like drinking...red lemonade, except it lit you up pretty quick - just ask my mom ;o) !
• On Sunday, we slept in a bit and had a lazy morning, although it could have been more lazy after our second experience at hidden brunch-spot Elo. Erika and I had experience at this place with Summer and this time around wasn't much better. Last time, we waited almost an hour for the Sunday morning chef to show up before we bailed and this time wasn't much better. The food was solid, but nothing to write home about (except in a blog). Note-to-self: don't bother getting their til noon for brunch because the chef doesn't bother getting there until then either.
• The only location that we had scheduled to visit was picturesque Fort Tryon and the Cloisters. After a long and un-fruitfull walk through the LES to buy Teany tea (closed due to a fire), dad and I decided to stop into the newly opened (!!!) Topman in SoHo. I've browsed their website, but I didn't have any idea that they would open a US location until it was spotted on our tour the day before. It's a great place for a little Fort Tryon of our own - shoes! I've been looking for some new dual-purpose shoes to replace my aging Euro-pumas and I scored a pair for my birthday - but not before dad found a pair of Euro-treaded Plimsolls of his own liking :o).
• To wrap up the day (in Manhattan), we decided to take the train road-trip up to Fort Tryon Park for a walk despite the Cloisters being closed. With such magnificent weather, Fort Tryon was the only place to be with it's lovely views of the Hudson Valley and it's tree-shaded paths. If you've been-there-and-done-that in Manhattan, then it's worth a trip up to this corner of the city for some relaxation.
• One of the benefits of going all the way up to Fort Tryon Park is that you can also take a vaguely interesting tour of Washington Heights and Harlem from the safety of the MTA public buses on your way home. These colorful ethnic communities aren't normally visited by visitors to the city, so it was nice to see them although gentrification is definitely taking it's toll on these out-edges of Manhattan.
  
• The last stop of our day was going to be meeting Susannah at the Bohemian Beer Hall and Garden - definitely a place to stop for reasonable food and fare on a blissfully warm afternoon/evening. They have a whole hosts of beers that we partook in along with burgers, kielbasa, and bratwursts to fill our bellies.

At this point, the next stage of the journey began as my dad and I headed out to Laguardia Airport to pick up a rental car with GPS and everything. Miss Garmin was definitely a worthwhile investment for the trip, though she had some serious issues with airports. She did NOT like to go to Astoria (from Astoria) and did not like to go back to the airport in Astoria (from Astoria). Both trips took at least an hour each, even though upon further review I found that the airport was essentially right down the street from me. Luckily, everything in between was golden with this little beauty.

We didn't know much about what we were in for when we departed at 6:00am on Monday morning for a four hour drive to southern Pennsylvania, other than what dad found on the internet that morning while everyone was waking up and putting on their faces. All we and Miss Garmin knew is that we were heading for the Tourist Visitor Center: Gettysburg.

J. Riley, to be continued....

Pondering Relocations...

Last weekend, Erika and I embarked on a trip out to California for Faryn's graduation! The whole family was gathering, so I knew it would be a great time to hang out with everyone again and get to introduce Erika to Southern California and its peaks and pits. I feared the worst: that she would opt to stay in San Diego and let me go back to New York alone!

In an optimization strategy, we decided to stay for five days and try to get as much done as possible in such a short amount of time. As well as the graduation festivities, the clan planned outings to the Getty Center in LA and a chance to nurse the graduation hangover with a day at Disneyland, followed by a lovely tour of LA (barf), and a few days down in San Diego.

And the trip was grand. The Getty Center was more than I imagined that Los Angeles could muster in terms of culture (note: I openly discriminate and am prejudiced against the megatropolis of LA). Open-air, wonderful views of the city, world-class art, fresh creeks, florist sculptures, and architectual exhibits abounded at the Getty Center - it was everything that I imagined LA wasn't. My only regret was that we didn't have enough time to spend there as Graham, Erika, and I drove up from San Diego in the morning and there was traffic and Faryn's big event to attend/experience in the afternoon.

I remember my college graduation day. I wanted to see everyone before I left town and on graduation day, but there just wasn't enough time. Like myself, everyone had visitors in town and each person had there own events to attend. I remember my roommate Ryan and I having a low-key barbeque or pot-luck of some sorts at our apartment. But it was just a crazy day with the ceremonies, seeing people for the last time, and hanging out with all of our visitors.

I suppose Faryn's graduation was a similar experience for her! We unloaded and changed in the hotel and rushed to her apartment to find her in amongst her boxes doing her hair and her roommates still packing. We had rushed there thinking we were going to be late for her department's congregation at the school, only to find out later that the event didn't start for another hour and a half and was really just a place to go eat some fresh fruit and delicious sun-warmed cookies, all of which I ate way too much of. But we hung around there with Faryn as she said hi to her departmental friends.

After an early dinner of Greek food near the campus, we went back to the stadium to catch the graduation ceremonies and witness the honoring of EIGHT HUNDRED students graduating. Yes, all of their names were read outloud :o) ! We had giggled in sympathy for Erika when she said that her graduation from college was two hours long, but this event turned out to eclipse that by at least 30 minutes! But, there were some memorable moments such as the tossing of tortillas by the students (???) and some racial epithets (is that a word?) by one of the speakers (classy). But at least there were plenty of interesting costumes for the guests at this event: girls with skirts barely covering their undies, terrible bleach-blondes, and the now infamous curly-black-hair mulleted guy with elf-en pointy-toe shoes five sizes too big and a bad case of slacks that were too tight and non-existent underwear. Why I didn't capture this character in digital photos, I don't know!

After graduation, we drove around Pasadena looking for a place to celebrate and settled on a sushi joint were dad proceeded to lead us to a happy place with saki-bombs! We ate some pretty good sushi at the place too, props to Summer for her selections right up my alley! I gotta say, Pasadena is a pretty nice place with loads of clubs, bars, and restaurants. I don't think I had ever been there before, but I would definitely return if I was unlucky enough to find myself in LA in the near future.

We crashed hard that night, it was a long day after a six-hour flight the night before and about five hours of sleep. It helped that the Hampton Inn we stayed at was much, much nicer than the one I stayed at for a week in Columbus, Indiana back in the day!

Sunday was the triumphant return to Disneyland for the first time since about Junior High for me, and Erika's first time at a Disney location! We met Graham, Brie, and the kids there and about five pictures in, our camera broke. As Summer would say: FAIL! Lucky for me, I have a sister that, ahemmm, "offered" her camera to me to use for the day.

Disneyland was great. It was everything that it was the first time I went with my grandparents when I was eight years old. My dad attempted to support his veto of excessive purchases of gifts for my niece by asking us what we bought on that first trip. All I remembered at the time was a new wallet and $20 (!!!!) that my grandparents gave me and my brother. I think I lost some of the money (not for the first time), but I definitely remember buying a toy musket-style rifle from somewhere in Frontier Land! We did all the rides there, some with the kids, and some later on without, and they were still great. It's A Small World was interesting despite not changing in 50 years (they even have Peruvians!), they scored big points with Pirates of the Caribbean, and of course the roller coasters like Space Mountain, Matterhorn, and the Thunder Mountain train ride. Those rides don't need to change! The only one that was lame was the Haunted House. At least put something spooky in there!!

We did about 14 hours at Disneyland before we shut the place down. We could definitely have used a second day at the Disney properties to get the full experience, and that probably would have been a better idea than trying to show Erika LA on Monday morning after dining and saying goodbye to the North-bound part of the Haines train. LA was a disaster. Armed with my trusty AAA map provided by the hotel, we headed out to try to find film studios and Hollywood. And I was provided with the first sign of disaster quickly after departure from the hotel. I GOT LOST TRYING TO FIND THE HIGHWAY FROM DISNEYLAND! This is not an easy thing to do people, but I managed it. I was so stressed out driving through LA and didn't manage to find the exits I hoped to find to the studios. So, I got off the highway to turn around and found out that there was no entrance back onto it.

My head was turning red and I could feel the steam starting to whistle out of my ears. Eventually, two hours later, we found lovely Beverly Hills and I mellowed out (a little bit). Hey, we're on Sunset Blvd, this is the right way to Hollywood, right? Yea, right down to seedy-town, Hollywood. Luckily, I used the phone-a-friend lifeline and was rescued with some directions to the star-walk. It was under-impressive (as I expected), but Erika was trying her best to not slap me in the face with my wonderfully negative attitude the whole time. She was disappointed that we weren't doing a studio tour (my fault I guess), so I attempted to satiate the situation with tickets to the wax museum, Guiness Book of World Records, and Ripley's Believe It or Not. Some of the things at these places were interesting, but I was itching to get out of LA and head to San Diego.

Ahhh...San Diego. I was immediately relaxed when we pulled into In 'N Out (after passing too many in LA) and chowed on the greatest burgers in the world. We hung out with Brie and Graham at night, relaxed some more, and slept in the next morning at our hotel by Moonlight Beach. Auntie Jude came by in the morning and we mosied on down to the beach at about noon and enjoyed the patches of sunshine and warmth there. I took a dip in the water for a while and just enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere. Auntie Jude said, "Justin, you guys have to move here".

After Auntie Jude departed, we went back to the hotel and showered and looked presentable for lunch at Encinitas's fantastic Peruvian restaurant Q'ero (the artists formerly known as Amici's) with my old friend Russell and his family. Russ spent two years of his youth in Ecuador, so it was fun to hear his old stories of Ecuador and compare it with Erika's Peru. Q'ero did a good job of reigniting Russ's sensory agents with their flavor and atmosphere, things he hadn't experienced since he left Ecuador nine years ago. At the end of the relaxing meal and the climactic tres leches cake (best Erika has ever had, I might add), Russ said, "J, you should move out here. No, you HAVE to move here."

We walked through Encinitas afterwards, doing some window shopping and Erika did some beauty products shopping before we arrived at Swamy's surf-spot, where we parked it on the benches and enjoyed the sunshine and the surfers on the cliffs before us. We planned on walking up to Graham and Brie's a little bit later but were saved when they called us to find out where we were. Graham was roasting up a carne asada tri-tip, so we met up with Brie and did some grocery shopping at the lovely gourmet Seaside Market before heading up the hill for dinner.

Dining on Graham's food is on my list along with Mexican food and In 'N Out when I'm in SD. Despite the late lunch, the food was great as always and we hung out, watched some reality TV and basketball, Erika and Brie shared wedding albums and stories while I was in heaven setting up Graham's new Mac with remote access (!!!) . It was just so relaxing, possibly aided by the fact that the kids were asleep already :o) . Brie said to us, "It would be so great if you guys moved out here!"

On our last day, we took Ellie to Sea World with us. It's tough being so far away from everyone, so we thought it would be a great idea to spend some time with the newest 3-year-old adult of the family. Surprisingly, Brie had no objections for us taking her off her hands for the day ;o). Not surprisingly, Ellie already had the map at Sea World memorized and the first thing she wanted to do was....? The pet show? No. Shamu? No. Penguins? No. SHARKS! I think that's pretty bad ass that my three-year-old niece wanted to go hang out with the sharks. Well, we did hang out with them after we rushed to see the Dolphin Show. She also wanted to touch the sting-rays. The idea sounded good to her, but she wasn't quite comfortable actually touching them. We also went on the newish Wild Arctic Ride, which Ellie barely passed in order to ride. I felt a little bit dizzy on the ride and was worried about her, since it was pretty scary and violent. Afterwards, she said "That was so fun!!!!" I was slightly naseus :o). We hit almost everything during the blissfully blistering hot day in Mission Bay and Ellie was destroyed by the time it was time for us to leave. She actually fell asleep in the stroller in the parking lot on the way back to the car, how's that for timing?

Finally, to cap the trip, we filled up Graham's fish water tanks with fresh ocean water and watched the surfers before hitting up a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place to check off the last box. We drove around downtown a little bit before heading to the airport to our red-eye flight. As expected, Erika loved San Diego as much as I did (like always). I woke up the next morning to rain in the sky and grey New York and Erika and I both thought, "We need to move to San Diego".

J. Riley, looking forward to the economic recovery, cuz I need a job in SD.

Wedding Blog: Wedding Day

The day I was to be married, Saturday, February 14th, 2009, I woke up in the middle of the night in a deep sweat. Was I sleepless, tossing and turning in bed, nervous about the wedding? No, what woke me up was the sounds of my roommate tossing his cookies in the bathroom. I felt really bad for him at that time and checked to make sure he was going to survive at least through the wedding. And the room, despite the fan being on, had no air circulation whatsoever, so it was hot as hell. Another big "plus" for the hotel we were staying at :o/ . I quickly fell back asleep, however, once Stefan confirmed that he was feeling five pounds lighter and marginally better than when he had gone to bed.

My alarm clock was set to go off at 8:30am and it went off to my annoyance. I got up, took a "shower" (lukewarm water dripping from a "shower head" in the bathroom :o| ), and then headed over to the grocery store to pick up some drugs for Stefan, since I knew it was going to be a rough day for him. I also picked out a cheap twist-off-cap bottle of white wine that would be used as my anesthesia prior to the wedding ceremony.

I was amazed that at this hour in Miraflores, the streets were completely empty and the only people out were the gardners grooming the parks. I was pretty surprised, but didn't think anything else about it since this is also the case in New York City on the weekends. The city doesn't move until noon. This is Latin America, afterall, the clock is on "island time".

Anyway, I got back to the hotel, fed Stefan some cheap South American pills that I hoped would help, and checked the time. It was 7:45am. Son of a bitch. The alarm clock on my cellphone has had a bug since the day I bought it. Even the my 7:00am alarm is set to go off on Monday-Friday only (for work, obviously), it goes off on the weekends as well. Tell me that THAT'S not annoying :o| . So, I had some free time to waste before everyone else got up to go to breakfast.

After piddling around on the computer downstairs, the masses woke up and we went to our Cafe Manolo for breakfast, like we did every day. I felt pretty zen-like that morning, and that was before I started on the bottle of wine, which was opened after breakfast about an hour before the noon ceremony while I was getting dressed. There's no good, plausible reason to feel nervous in front of 150 people while you are getting married in a foreign language when wine is cheap and readily available to any paying customer at the local grocery store. It woked during my civil wedding, and it worked at this wedding as well, so a few glasses (or gulps from the bottle, as in my case) of it before a wedding comes highly recommended from your's truly.

Anyway, the phone rang and I was beckoned downstairs by the photographers. They wanted to go up to my room to take pre-wedding pictures and I said "uuhhhh....that's not a good idea", and not only because my roommate had been throwing up all night. The rooms in this hotel are not what you want plastered as your background through sickness and health until death do you part. Of course, downstairs had an authentic vintage look going on that would work well in the East Village in some hipster cafe (think "DT-UT", New Yorkers), but it was that: authentically vintage. As-in, dark, ratty couches, ancient computer, torn up walls, bad carpet, etc. But still, it was better than the rooms and, in fact, it turned out pretty nice in the pictures. I looked like a British aristocrat in my library or study, so that worked out well.

Somebody was supposed to pick me and my parents up in a black car while the bus was transporting our guests to the church, but I didn't really know who it was going to be, when they were coming, or whether they planned on taking me hostage on my wedding day, but sure enough, a nice fellow came and somehow communicated in Spanish to me that he was there for us (and was going to take us to the church). The bus also arrived on time and everything seemed to be in order. It was almost too efficient and unstressful for me to believe.

When we got in the car, the driver gave me the cue card of the things (in Spanish) I was supposed to say in the church so I had the first cram session that I've had since I graduated from college to try to pronounce the words in front of me, whether I knew what they meant or not ;o) (actually, I did know what they meant; basically the same as in English).

We got to the church pretty early, so we were all just hanging out and trying to stay cool. I wasn't really sure how everything was supposed to proceed, but I figured that our wedding planner should be involved at some point and tell us when to get started. About thirty minutes later, she showed up and quickly threw some flowers on us gentlemen, handed the bridesmaids their boquets, and then got everything started. One of the groomsmen was Erika's cousin's husband that I knew and he was trying to tell me something, but I kept telling him to go talk to the wedding planner because he needed his flower. It turns out that two of the bridesmaids didn't turn up on time, and he was trying to tell me (I think) that he didn't need a flower since his bridesmaid partner wasn't there. Of course, I didn't realize that this was the case until he and Stefan walked down the aisle together, mano-y-mano sans bridesmaids.

So the wedding ceremony music started while I was chilling down at the first pew, enjoying the lingering effects of the two cups/gulps of white wine I had drank two hours before. Erika had arrived and was quickly ushured down the aisle by her dad, and then it was game on. Naturally, she looked stunning and was more nervous than me, but that might have been the wine. She ever whispered to me during the ceremony, "Haines, you smell like alcohol". Who, me? ;o)

The ceremony went as ceremonies go, which was good considering the words that I had to read from the priest were actually DIFFERENT than my cue card had been. That could have been bad if he hadn't held the book up for me! I followed Erika's lead with the whole standing up, sitting down, standing up, kneeling down that is involved in Catholic churches. The only awkward part was that he pronounced us man and wife and I thought I got to kiss her then. But then he kept talking and I asked Erika, "Wasn't I suppsed to kiss you?" She thought I was supposed to as well, but the priest kept talking and I was thinking how strange it would be to have a wedding ceremony without that pinnacle moment. A few minutes later, the priest said something, Erika grabbed me and said, "Kiss me!" and that was that!

After the wedding, we had personal pictures and were congratulated by everyone outside the church. One unfortunate thing is that I had gotten a new pair of glasses the week before that didn't tint when I was outside in order to show off my beautiful blue eyes (not!) and not have wedding photos with moderately-tinted "Hello, I'm Justin and I am a child molestor" glasses. This worked out well, except that it was like 1:00pm in the middle of the summer, and the sun was BRIGHT! Unfortunately, in some of the pictures, there is a hint of grimace on my face: Not because I now had a ball-and-chain, but because of the sun that was scorching my retinas. Sun glasses would have been a good idea, I guess....

Then, it was off to our Benz to whisk us away for some pictures. It was nice and and cool inside there and we found a chilled bottle of champagne waiting for us, which was a wonderful touch and definitely appreciated in order to hydrate us for the long photo sessions in a nearby park and in the photographers studio before we got to the reception. We didn't get there until almost three o'clock though, so people were eating, drinking, and being merry (especially Erika's best friend, who was righteously sauced beyond recognition when we got there and throughout the whole night. Well done! :o) by the time we arrived.

We did our wedding dance (a Waltz that we got one and a half steps into before we gave up), danced with relatives, sisters, mothers, etc, (during which we fended off Erika's best friend from interrupting) and toasted each of the tables with champagne before we got to sit down to eat something, with a plate of food magically put on my table setting by some unknown persons. I scarfed down my food (which was surprisingly good for a buffet) and enjoyed being at the center of attention for the rest of the night. I don't remember the exact order of things, but we:

1. ...had Erika's 9-year-old cousin perform a Marinara dance or two for us with her dance partner. She competes nationally in this dance and it's unbelievable that kids can dance like this!
2. ...danced to Latin music all night (all-good, despite my requests for some gringo and samba music).
   
3. ...brought out "cotillon" (costume hats, ties, balloons, etc.) when people started getting tired, which made the party CRAZY on the dance floor.
4. ...busted out Cuban cigars (thanks Stefan) that I had a few puffs on before it got handed on to someone else for the rest of the fire (Faryn maybe?).
5. ...dealt with intoxicated bridesmaids trying to take advantage of Stefan in his feeble state.
6. ...had great interaction between Peruvians and gringos, especially at the end of the night when my sisters and her friends started drinking one-liter glasses of beer :o)
7. ...unfortunately had the music shut off at about 9:30 because we were at a private residence and everyone was drunk enough anyway :o)

At the end of the night, there were plenty of stories of drunk debauchery, but due to new restrictions on Freedom of the Press in my household, I think I better hold off on ;o).

Multimedia evidence:

• Summer's videos and Facebook pictures
• Faryn's pictures
• Solange's pictures
• Mom and Dad's pictures
• Anybody else?

J. Riley, obviously words won't do it justic, but it was a great wedding.

Wedding Blog: Wedding Eve

All/Most/Some/Few/None of you know that I got married down in Peru a few weeks back. Technically, I was already married at the time, but a proper Peruvian wedding was in order despite May's main-event.

So, down came a group of gringos to attend. Fortunately, Nina and Marcus from Denmark had a trip planned for Peru at the same time as my wedding, thus ensuring that Europe was represented along with the contingent from New York, California, and with the South American representatives from Brazil and a mob of Peruvians from all over the country, we had somewhere around 150 people in attendance.

After a late breakfast at Cafe Manolo in Miraflores, during which Katie managed to offend the entire cast of waiting service by sending back her non-scrambled eggs TWICE (leading to hilarious invisibility on the days thereafter), we climbed aboard the bus we rented in order to provide our guests with a city tour of Lima the day before the wedding. Unfortunately, there was a flight snag (understatement of the trip!) and my whole family missed most of the tour that included cruising around the cliffs and parks in Miraflores, walking around old Barranco and Surco, watching a monk dive off a cliff into the ocean, and fine dining at Sonya's, probably the best ceviche I've ever had in my life. Of course, I think I say that everytime I eat ceviche, but this one was special since it had some live piano music and of course was featured on No Reservations. We ordered way way way too much food there and it wouls have been a shame to see so much of it go to waste were it not for a certain Italian who insisted that every fried item and every ounce of rocoto hot sauce was consumed - much to his chagrin, he later realized. Remember: raw vegetables + gringo stomach = bad; rocoto hot sauce = raw, pureed rocoto (pepper); raw rocoto pureed + gringo stomach = bad. Stefan was exhibit A for this hypothesis.

He came down with a violent case of Tupac Amaru's revenge that was befitting of the last Inca himself later that night, when I had the honor of sleeping in his room (in order to avoid seeing Erika on the wedding day). He was not the only victum, either. Ol' Iron Belly Stefan was joined by Jonathon, Melissa, Summer, Daniel, and Nina in feeling Tupac's wrath on the trip, a terrible consequence of being on location for the wedding. Faryn won the award though by coming down with strep throat the day she arrived in Cusco.

Anyway, after our late lunch, we went back to the hotel to freshen up and gather the rest of our guests who had arrived. Oh, the hotel. Okay, the hotel was horrible. Despite what some people say, it was clearly stated on the wedding website that this was the "discount" hotel. But, shoot, I would have stayed here because the pictures looked great on the website. But the picture didn't show shower heads rusting off and spraying lukewarm water outside the bathroom, holes in the walls big enough for a horse to walk through, toilets that didn't flush, mildewy carpet, water dripping from the ceiling, and, the worst offense possible, a SLOW computer with lethargic internet access. Warning to all the googlers out there: avoid La Casa de Sanchez! The only thing good about it was the location, which really couldn't have been better, but there were nicer places available right next door practically.

After picking everyone else up and "cleaning up" (i.e. changing hotel rooms), the bus took us on an eternal ride to downtown Lima that took probably two exhaust-fume-filled hours to get to. The fumes from the ride were so bad that somehow I got an earache with a lot of pressure when we finally arrived. Two hours later, it was gone. It was horrible, frustrating, and made everyone want to gag, which ruined the mood of lovely downtown Lima at night.

On top of that, it was raining for the second day in a row at night. We called the wedding planner who told us that if it rained, we were pretty much screwed because the wedding tent was already up and they couldn't put the rain cover on after it's already up. Man, we were praying for good weather the next day!

Luckily, the last stop downtown turned out to be great for the guests and kind of changed everyone's mood - mine at least! There are some lighted fountains downtown that are just gorgeous and a lot of fun to visit. It sounds boring, but they really are worth visiting if you going to be in Lima at night. Some of them you can play in if you are a child or child-like (i.e. a certain Italian), though a change of clothes is recommended because it can get chilly when you're drenched in the Lima desert-climate at night.

After this, we headed back to the hotel and dropped off Erika and her mom at the apartment, the last time I saw her before the wedding.

J. Riley, pictures will be linked in the next post

Thanksgiving Week: Wrapping Up the Rest of the Week

After our binge wine drinking on my first day in Peru, we had to wake up at 3:30am the next morning to hoof it to the airport to fly to Cajamarca and then take a "bus" (which is basically a minivan with zero leg room and about 15 people crammed into it) an hour and a half away to San Marcos, which is where Erika's mom's family lived. Erika has tons of stories about this place because it is where her mom grew up and where she spent a month every year while growing up.

We did a little walking tour of the town after we arrived and met some of her cousins in town. We went through the wonderful market that was full of fresh fruits and vegetables (most of which I cannot eat of course), nibbled on chicharron (fried pork, kinda like bacon), and checked out the farm market where horses, cows, and donkeys are sold. The market in general was funny because I am basically a giant in Peru, so I had to walk over all hunched in order to not decapitate myself with the clothes and tarp lines. We also saw a guy meeding some monkeys alcohol, for some reason. It was kinda random, actually.

Then, we went to the family homestead, which was a few minutes drive outside of town to meet the rest of the family and situate ourselves for the next three days. The house was basically up on the top of a hill with a few other houses, a "school" (one or two rooms), and a church and was known as El Cedro. The house was made from adobe (mud and grass mixed and baked), had dirt floors, and had a stove that was basically an adobe cube with a sheet of metal that was heated by a fire, a more-or-less thatched roof, and an outhouse up the hill with no toilet seat. They had one faucet that had running water that we used as our shower more or less and there were animals (like free-range chickens that would be lunch in a few days) running all over the place. It was kinda like camping, only we had misquito-infested bedrooms and a bed. Last year I remember Erika telling me that they were having a party because they had finally got electricity! It was pretty much like camping

In the interest of trying to catch up on my blogs, I will truncate the small details for the rest of the week and provide some insight into my psyche while I was there. But first some bulleted details of activities:

• I visited the grave of Erika's grandparents, which was way up on top of a remote hill. Interestingly, that was actually the first time I had been to a cemetary and, though it wasn't elaborate, Erika's mom and uncle took time to clean it up a bit and added some palm leaves (courtesy of graves nearby) to cover the entrance of the little tombstone house where they lit candels.
  
• On the way to the cemetery, at 9:30am, Erika's dad was hanging out with the neighbors drinking beer, community-style. This is where you have one cup that you pass around, filling it up with beer, passing the beer bottle to the next guy, drink the cup of beer, then shake it out and pass the cup to the guy with the beer. This activity can go on for hours, with other people dropping in and leaving as time permits. But people have time to stop by for an hour or two, pretty much no matter who they are. I thanked them for the invitation but Erika and I stopped by on our way back from the cemetery for an hour or two, drinking some brews.
  
• People just plain and simply have time for anything in this place. We dropped by the school house across the street one morning to say hi to the kids and it wasn't like we were interrupting anything. The teacher, Erika's cousin's wife, was holding her baby (who accompanied her to class everyday) and was more than happy to let us chit chat with the little toddlers. Another example of this was when we went into town to walk around for a bit. We ran into one of Erika's old friends (who we met the first day as well), so we started walking with her and a friend of her's. Further into town, we ran into Erika's cousin. So, we were talking with her cousin for a bit while Erika's friend and the other friend just hung out on the sidewalk and talked. For like an hour. I concluded that people here, unlike in New York, don't necessarily have a destination when they are going for a walk. They are just walking to pass the time and talking. I clearly have different intentions when I go walking. I am going somewhere. There is a destination in mind, something to do, time to keep. It made me wonder if I should spend more time just....walking.
• Towards the end of our stay, Erika's cousin took us and the family to some thermal baths nearby. When I think of thermal baths, I think of Yellowstone Park when I was a kid with my grandpa. A river with a swimming hole that had really warm water and people kind of chilling next to it. This thermal spring was pretty small, a very tiny creek where locals came to wash their clothes. Watching people wash their clothes in this water with their soap made me suspicious of the water quality, for sure. We went down to the river and hung out for a few minutes, since the water was comfortable and the scenery was wonderful. The water was moving pretty quick, but I jumped in and rinsed off, since I hadn't had a shower in a few days. I think I was the only one who could swim, and I fet kind of embarrassed about that. What do these people think of the gringo who can afford to fly the family down here, who uses an electric toothbrush and razor (when the others don't seem to brush their teeth, judging by the lack of teeth) and who has the waterproof boots during the torrential downpour? People there didn't seemed to be overawed with my gadgets and luxury, but I still felt out of place.
  
• The thermal baths were surprisingly nice, though. Or seemed to be. They were like little private rooms that you rented with a "hot tub" of hot water. It wasn't disgustingly dirty like I expected. In fact, after every use, they drain the water, scrub the whole thing down with soap and water, and refill them. All for like $1 a person, not bad.
  
• As nice as it was to clean off, I can't help but think that it had something to do with the terrible cold that I woke up with the next morning. Besides just a runny nose, I had sinuses full of fluid that I could feel all the way to my ears. Considering that we were leaving in another day on an airplane, I had to get some drugs to help me out because flying with ears like that is pretty painful. We went back to the main city of Cajamarca to check out the tourist sites and I was dizzy and more or less disoriented the whole day, feeling like I was in a daze. I think it was something with my ears, I'm almost positive. That night, I felt like I was feeling better but Erika told me I had a fever and rushed out to get some medicine for me. More mystery pills were ingested and I was feeling much better the next day, but the flight was indeed painful when we finally left town. Even when we got back to Lima, my ears were in and out of equilibrium for a few days.
  
• Before we left San Marcos, the "rich" cousin (who was the only one who had a computer), took us on a tour of the areas farms in search for fresh cheese and just for our interest. Well, really it was for my interest since the rest of the family already knew about the area. But the cheese was great from this area. I asked why it was special and apparently it's because all of the cows are organic, free-range, grass-fed, etc. You know, the kind that we pay $5 for a gallon of their milk. It makes you feel kind of strange that we have to pay so much for something that is so natural in a place like this. These people are not trying to make something special for a small sub-market of yuppies. But, I suppose they are still making it for a small market - the local area - hence the fact that they need to industrialize cow and cheese production like they do here.
  
• The final thing that struck me when I was here was just how disconnected people are from the rest of the world and how slow and difficult life is. When I left NYC, housing prices were plummeting, the stock market was in turmoil and my employer (the largest financial institute in the world) was on the verge of bankruptcy, which would have financial consequences around the globe. Down in San Marcos? I had a hard time even finding an internet cafe to find out what was going on up in NY. The people here were more interested in making sure there was food on the kitchen table (whether it be guineau pig or hens that were just running around the yard) and, importantly, having daily family gatherings. Each and every day, relatives were frequently popping in to say hello, stopping by for lunch, or bringing the kids over to run around the property. The kids didn't have toys to play with, there were dirt cliffs to climb, dirt roads to run around, and they were just playing random games with each other. As nice as all this is, life is hard here. One of the family members finally found a job as a teacher in a town that was a three hour walk away that had a monthly salary of $65. My jaw hit the floor when I heard that.
  

And I'm not sure why, but I just couldn't stop thinking about one thing that these people wouldn't have: dental insurance! And lord knows with the mouth I've got, I certainly need that!

After returning to Lima, we had quite a few wedding meetings to wrap things up as much as we could while we were there. The only other major event that I took part in was going to the Clasico football match between the two largest teams in the country with the most violent fans in the most dangerous part of Lima with Erika's dad, grandpa, and cousin. There something about being outside my comfort zone that attracts me to these kinds of events! The game was awesome and we were sitting close enough to the Ultra fans (basically hooligans) that we could hear their M80s explode when they lit them on fire, we could hear their chants, and could see the brawl that broke out at the end of the game. It was awesome! Erika didn't want me to go at first because people get knifed or shot at these games, but we didn't have any problems.

J. Riley, Life is simple in San Marcos, but life is hard.

Love and Marriage, Love and Marriage....

They go together like a horse and carriage. As do a few too many shots of jet-fuel grade tequila and a hangover, which I woke up with on my wedding day. As I contemplated the previous night that morning, and unsuccessfully tried to remember any part of the drive back to my house, I realized that maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to do since I now had bags under my eyes and barely looked awake. Oh well, there was plenty of time left in the day.

The crowd of guests for my wedding started arriving at our house in the morning. And by "crowd", I mean my grandparents who made the two hour drive down from Sacramento. As I started to think about the nights plans, I realized that this ceremony would be unusual for a wedding. In fact, I don't think I've ever even heard of a wedding that would be like mine, for this would be a "surprise" wedding. Like a surprise birthday, except it was a ceremony where you're dedicating your life to another person. But I honestly had NO idea what was in store for the night.

My mom had done all of the planning and had actually resisted any of my feeble attempts to understand the schedule of events of the night would be. I imagine that for most people, this might not be a concern. But I'm kind of a schedule-control freak, as anybody who has traveled with me can attest. I think that this Teutonic aspect of my character is why I have always gotten along so well with Germans throughout my life :o)! In any case, I was a *little* uncomfortable about not knowing what was going on, but I know my mom can organize a party as well as anyone and had been working tirelessly on organizing it, so I tried not to worry about it.

After lunch with Stefan, Roland & Csilla, Erika, and Graham, Erika and I went up to the winery where our "reverend" works so that we could actually, ironically, talk about what the plan was for the ceremony in two hours. Ok, as I write this, I'm thinking that maybe I'm not as much of a schedule-control freak as I at first thought. So he got to meet Erika, we got to talk about the night's plan, and my nerves started to get a tingling sensation for the first time. Not good! But I was okay after a few minutes and knew that if I don't have that sensation, then I wouldn't be taking it seriously!

We drove back down the hill and, in another wonderful display of being a schedule control freak, after picking up some things for the wedding, I decided that maybe I should get a trim on my hair with the wedding starting in like an hour. I got that done and then headed home so that I could shower, shave, put on my makeup, etc. etc.

We arrived at the house and it was a whirlwind. Somebody that my mom knew was there to present us with our wedding guest book, which was very nice and had a personal touch - even if I didn't know who this lady was! Interestingly, since we only have two bathrooms at my house, everyone was getting ready for the wedding except me and Erika - because all the bathrooms were occupied :) . That's cool, everyone else was dressed up and I'm walking around in my shorts and sandals still! But, eventually we got into the bathroom to get ready...

J. Riley, to be continued...tomorrow? Maybe, we'll see!

Visa Interview, and All That Jazz....

This week has continued the chronological trajectory of the past few weeks of being both amazing and busy at the same time. I arrived back in Lima on Saturday morning with the ultimate goal of securing Erika's paperworks that will allow her to come to the United States on her 29th birthday, Friday 4/18.

Because of the short notice of the trip, and a suffering budget, I quickly realized that I wouldn't be able to get a private apartment for the week and thus decided to stay at her parent's house and work from her small bedroom, where her internet connection is. My boss was generous enough to allow me to work from Peru all week and allow me to continue my stingy-ness with vacation that was honed over the past few years when I had two weeks of vacation per year.

Saturday we had to run a few errands around town before the evening plans began, which were of course going out with her friends to some discos. Last month, I had done pretty much the same, going to an all-night party after arriving fresh off a red-eye flight and I was fearful of the same this time around. But this time, they decided they wanted to go to a karaoke bar after the first disco was found to be a dud. Normally I'm not opposed to karaoke bars (as some of you Def Leopard fans know) and this time I obliged again but something about the combination of a dark constrained atmosphere and songs in Spanish that I never even heard of and that all pretty much sounded the same caused me to hit a wall at about 1:00am. Somehow I suffered through two more hours at this location nearly falling off my chair sleeping a few times. I just didn't have it in me! I did manage to croon out Come Together from the Beatles which woke me up for a bit before I failed miserably at Jack Johnson's Flake to end the night. I guess I didn't realize how hard that song would be - notably the ending!:o/

Sunday had a lot in store for us. Besides missing Liverpool's game at 7:45am in order to get some extra sleep, we had an 11:30 meeting with our wedding planner so that I could meet her and, more importantly for her I suppose, so I could throw down some cash as a deposit for her services. For those who haven't heard, we have changed our wedding date to 2/14 to coincide with my sister's school schedule. As a coincidental, accidental bonus (not to manage the added cheese factor), this happens to be Valentine's Day which makes is great for all the bleeding-heart romantics!

Post wedding planner reservation, we headed back home where I was fed very well by her mom (not for the first time, I should add!) before we had to depart for the mammoth event of the day - for me anyway: Allianza Lima vs. Sporting Cristal soccer match at the natinoal stadium! I'd submitted my request to see a pro football match down here to Erika a few weeks back because I know the crowds are crazy and dangerous and that makes it pretty exciting! I was hoping to see gangs of hooligans roaming the streets striking fear into the fans of the opposing team, fights, police in riot gear charging the line of hooligans, etc. While the atmosphere was tense outside the stadium, it wasn't quite as volatile as I would have wanted, but there were plenty of riot police everywhere and we got to see a cracking game that included a comeback from behind by the home team (Erika's dad's favorite team) against the Allianza giants. I wanted to attend another one on Wednesday night, the "Classico" match featuring the two biggest teams in Peru that surely would have been volatile, but apparently the stadium hosting that match is in the ghetto of all ghettos and Erika won't let me go. She basically said that they would steal the shoes off your feet before you stepped onto the street getting off the "combi" bus - their version of public transportation. I'll let it slide this time, though I'd love to go still!

On Monday, I worked from home during the day and after I shut up shop at 4:00pm, Erika and I went to a giant shopping center so that she could try to find some new jeans. Given the substantial price difference between clothing here and in New York, I relented and agreed to buy her two pairs of jeans that she could bring to New York. Funny enough, spending the evening at the mall together felt like the first "date" event that we've ever had. It even included eating dinner at the food court, which isn't much different than any other food court at a mall in the states except that it featured "Bembo's", which is a Peruvian burger chain with some interesting combinations like the Hawaiian burger and the Lomo Saltado (a typical Peruvian meal) burger which I ate. They had things like fried plantains, fried eggs, and other various intersting things on the burgers, The meat itself was strangely quite tasty despite being grayish in color and of course we got fries to share and all meals came with a cup of Inca Kola. I could eat at Bembos every once in a while though I'm sure it violates even more social responsibility rules than McD's or Burger King (both of which were also at the food court, of course!).

Tuesday morning I got woken up at 6:30am and I just did not want to wake up. I was soooo tired and slightly grumpy, so all the horn honking, rooster crowing, blasting reggaeton music and dog barking that defines this neighborhood wasn't the ideal way to wake up. But this was the most important day of the trip, the interview for Erika's visa at the US Embassy. So we crowded into the combi-bus at peak rush hour time, which meant that I was hanging onto a bar of questionable strength inside the bus with half my body inches away from the street on the outside of the doorway. Gotta love Lima! In any case, we made it to the embassy with all of our paperwork in hand just in time. The interview was going fine until the interviewer looked at my passport and asked what happened to my past passport (with which I had an incident last year where I kind of left it in my pants when I Washed them). I got amazingly nervous at that moment when she stared straight at me with a death-stare and said nothing for what seemed like five minutes after I told her my story. Apparently the National PAssport Agency had stamped "Replacement for a lost of stolen passport" in my new passport. Gee, thanks for the accurate statement, US Government. After taking about five minutes for me to stop sweating all over my body (and presumptively changing my skin tone from bright red to white again), things went fine and she was cordial, telling us stories about her experience with people "losing" (i.e. selling) their passports to drug dealers and stuff like that. But everything went on without a hitch and an hour later Erika's visa was approved and we were home free!!!


To celebrate after working the rest of the afternoon, we went to Miraflores that evening to try to find that second pair of elusive jeans (black) and I ended up buying her some footwear and then at Ripley bought myself an awesome spring/fall jacket and a wonderful, quality shirt for work that were both quite cheap. We went to a few more stores, but still could not find those black jeans, but we'll save that struggle for another day I guess. For now, it's back to work for your's truely!

J. Riley, Erika is out trying to find those jeans as I type!

House Parties and Holidays and Homicides, Oh My!

I've been getting verbally body-slammed about the fact that I had absolutely no time to update my blog while I was in Peru and I've been so busy in the one, err.....two weeks I've been back that I haven't been able to update my blog. Or, I haven't created the time to update el blogo. So, here's a run-down, bulleted style for Cathy.

A. Conclusion to Peru

1. My parents arrived in Peru about five days after the party. Erika and I showed them around the city, going to the downtown area and running around town trying to find the best food to eat in the short amount of time that we had. Sometimes things don't go as planned and you end up finding the best surprises that way, such as the ceviche restaurant that we went to on their second day there. Because of an earlier delay, our lunch schedule got pushed back...to about 5:00! We ran around Lima spending a good hour and a half and $8 in cab fares and found all three of the places that we wanted to eat at closed. We ended up on a quiet street (Nueva York St., as it were) eating at an awesome place in a small corner with the most AMAZING ceviche I've ever had. There are pictures of the food on my picture site.
2. On Saturday, we did a meeting of the families by having lunch at Erika's family's house. I should have known when I was instructed to wear pants to the event (though it was hot and sunny outside) and told to bring my proposal speech in Spanish. But, I was foolish enough to think that I'd get away easy with the proposal the week before. Oh no, I had to do the thing ALL OVER AGAIN, and worse yet, it was in front of HER parents, MY parents, her aunt, and her cousin! It's nerve wracking enough proposing, but to have to do it twice, in front of everyone? I really didn't want to, but in the end it was the right thing to do, the traditional thing to do. And I was happy that her dad was there this time around! Her mom made an amazing lunch for us and I could tell that it was a big event for them, as it was for my parents. Despite the language barrier, we could all somehow communicate and everyone had so much fun, laughing at the pronunciation of my dad's name: "Doug? Like Hot Dog? We call that 'pancho' in Spanish", and a new nickname for my dad was borne!
   
3. That night we took their, and my, parents to Brisas de Titicaca, a show demonstrating many of the traditional dances of Peru. Dancing is a big part of their culture and in a country steeped with so much history and ancient civilizations, it was fun to see. Her dad had never even been to the show, so it was fun that they could dress up for a night and have fun out on the town, something they don't normally get to experience.
   
4. I went to Cusco again! Despite being there twice before, I wanted to take Erika and my parents since they hadn't been there before.
   
5. The first day, we sucked down the mate de coca tea (from which cocaine is made) to help give us relief from the 12,000 feet altitude. The second day we wandered around slowly and met up with an acquantince that I had met the year before. She took a 2-hour bus ride to meet us and show us around town to some places I hadn't even seen before. We got the local tour of the giant market place with all the fresh food, some typical streets, some ancient buildings from the Incas, and ended up at the Inca fortress Sachsahuayman (sp.) at the end of the day before taking our guide to a fancy dinner before her bus left. We are very greatful to her for her time!
6. The second day, we had a private tour of the Sacred Valley, Pisaq, and Ollyatatumbo. We had a great deal from a tourist company for the trip, paying $60 for the day. Well, you get what you pay for! We had a tour guide who's English was poor and who basically knew very little. I was a better tour guide based on my previous trips than he was! The hiking around the Pisaq ruins brought back memories of my first trip with my friends, but this trip will always remind me that my dad is in way better shape than me, trudging up the hills carrying his tripod and massive SLR camera on his shoulder! I didn't do too bad on the hills, Erika was surpisingly fit (it must be her Inca lungs!), and even my mom did all of the hills!
   
7. The third day was the long trip to Machu Picchu on the train, leaving at 6:30am. Machu Picchu is not something you can get old of, but note to self: next time pay the $50 and hire a guide! You really can't appreciate everything without a guide telling you what each piece means. We got stuck on an early (and more expensive) train home but it wasn't a bad thing because it had started raining and you couldn't see anything after that. Next time, I recommend staying in Aguas Calientes (the town below the mountain) for at least a day so you can get a whole day on the mountain!
8. The fourth day, which I was bracing for the whole week, turned out to possibly be my favorite day - since I've seen all the tourist stuff before. The day of shopping! My wallet was already light from the trip and my mom had been teaching Erika the art of spending-your-significant-other's-money all too well. We ended up aimlessly wandering around the San Blas neighborhood of Cusco looking at jewelry shops and clothing stores, finding amazing views of the city, quiet, scenic cobblestone streets, a few good deals and unique items, and more than one hippyish cafes to stop and have some corn-based chicha morrada to drink. I didn't mind spending money on some of the jewelry, purses, and other things for Erika, she deserves it all and I loved shopping with her.
   
9. The next day, we headed back to Lima and bid my parents goodbye as they travelled back to the states. It was a very fun trip with them, like always, and it's good to know that they appreciate the gem that I have in this girl and that she loves them as much as they love her!
   

B. House Parties

1. Five days after I got back, Melissa had a small house / dinner party to celebrate my engagement! Everyone wanted all the details about my trip and to know about what's going to happen in the future with our wedding!
2. Speaking of weddings, I didn't have many of your email addresses in my email address book! If you didn't get my "guaging the interest of attending my wedding March 28th, 2009 in Lima, Peru", you might want to send me an email so that I can invite you! If you don't know my email address, send an email to my parents, who will forward on to me. I don't publish my email address for many reasons.....nevermind, I don't have time to digress on information security!

C. Holidays

1. Monday was St. Patrick's Day, the day for drinking significant quantities of beer, wearing lots of green, and eating too much marginal corned beef and cabbage. Paul brought up a good point: why should we go eat marginal Irish food just for the holiday's sake? Why not go out for a good dinner?
2. Good point Paul! So, it was off to the Meatpacking District, and under-appreciated neighbohood in our culinary repository, where we ate "Pan-African" food at Merkato 55 and dessert at the neighboring Italian, former-butcher-warehouse restaurant. Naturally, we had a lot of fun and had a few Irish beverages to boot!
3. Sean Murphy, as Irish as he name indicates, was conveniently born on St. Patrick's Day, so last night we celebrated his birthday with a "company party" (i.e. I don't have to pay nothing) at his Williamsburg, Brooklyn neighborly beer garden Radegast. They served up some wicked wursts, had a plethora of stellar imported beers including a rare breed of Schlenferla Rauchbier from Alex's town of Bamberg in Germany. The dinner was marginal, but the beers were great and the Hipster/Jewish music band was certainly interesting.
   

D. Homicides

1. As in, there was one. Close to me.
   
2. The scene: My apartment in the Bronx.
3. The situation: Me, Melissa and Jonathon were waiting for the crew to show up for our dinner party. Then, out of nowhere, we hear BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG very close to our apartment, followed by screeching tires and a minute later, sirens. The crew entered our apartment a minute later, having been in our elevator on the way to our apartment! We rubbernecked out of our 11th floor apartment and heard many sirens from the po-po and ambulances show up right next to our apartment.
4. The Resolution: The next day, we see on the news that a 19 year-old was shot three times in the chest and were looking for suspects! Today, I saw a HOMICIDE poster in the subway station with the suspect's mug-shot.
5. What did I do with that list of people that were going to visit me??
   

J. Riley, caught up, mostly!