Benguela Photos

I finally figured out how to shrink photos so that the slow internet connection here can load them! I was proud of myself for figuring out how to do this simple task; I'm not the most technologically gifted person as many of you already know. Three cheers for baby steps.

Benguela Photo #1
The street I live on. I live in an apartment on the left side of the road from this view, right above a bakery (basically right where the blue truck is in this photo). The only thing that keeps me from spending all my money at the bakery is the constant line out the door and the fact that you have to elbow your way to the counter or you'll just never get served. I'm going to have to develop that skill later - for now I just rely on the vittles my keepers provide (no complaints there though).














Benguela Photo #2
"Downtown" Benguela, featuring one of the newer paved roads. If you look closely the billboard says "With peace, we're reconstructing the country":














Benguela Photo #3
The beach at sunset is a favorite for the Chinese workers living in this town. They're here rebuilding the main railroad which goes to the Zambian border and terminates in Benguela and the port at Lobito, just to the north of here. I haven't tried the Chinese restaurant here yet, but I hear it's pretty good. More to come on that...

Nice to meet you, Milk

It’s hard to imagine that yesterday marked only the first week since Burch and I arrived in Luanda.

Five things I miss so far:
1. Skittles
2. Water Pressure
3. Chewy Sprees
4. The ability to completely comprehend dinner table gossip
5. Sour Patch Kids

All in all, not so bad (and my dentist should be dancing a jig somewhere). The no-running-water-in-the-morning thing is a drag though. I’ve taken to setting aside a kettle of water at night to boil in the morning so I can shave. The morning cold water sponge baths don’t seem so unusual anymore, but shave with cold water I will not.

In other news I joined a gym yesterday. I think the name of it was Acadamia Corpo Total, and one of its best features is…a working shower! I think it’s probably worth the $100 a month to join just for that. About halfway through my first real workout in months a local gym rat asked to cut in on the machine I was using. When I asked his name he responded “Leite” which is the Portuguese word for milk. Now, this guy was really buff and I didn’t want to inquire further, but this seemed a bit sketchy. After asking around it turns out most Angolans have a real name and a nickname that they use more commonly. Just ask Rabbit (one of the language teachers whose real name is Pablito) or Kiss Me (an Angolan man I met in Lisbon a few weeks ago whose real name escapes me). I swear I’m not making this up. I do wonder how people get these names though. Does Leite just really like milk? Does Rabbit…have rabbit-like qualities, whatever those might be? I need to get to the bottom of this.

Benguela is for Boozers

After the first weekend in Benguela it’s apparent that I live in a house full of crazy women. Friday night Lolita (my host mom) had me out until 4:30am at a bar called Trilhos. I thought it was a bit odd they kept playing silent George Michael videos on the wall (mostly from the Wham! era) while the DJ kept switching between Buena Vista Social Club and UB40 music. In other developments my question about the Portuguese word for “seed” started a 30 minute discussion; apparently this was not an easy question to answer (the candidates were “semente” and “caroço” – asking the same question later at the language school I’m attending sparked a similar debate the next day). I had asked because I kept drinking the seeds of the caipirinha I had ordered and I was just curious; I had no idea the chaos that would ensue.

Anyway, Saturday was a lazy day involving a tour of the beach with Burch that included dead fish, dead mice, and some washed up electronic equipment. Later on, after some long gossip sessions at the house that involved making a case of Carlsberg beer disappear it was time to check out “Tchirinawa” or the local disco. You pay 2,000 kwanzas ($27) up front and get a card that becomes a sort of credit card for drinks; the cost of each drink being deducted electronically until you spend the prepaid amount and have to pay the balance in cash. The good news is that 2,000 kwanzas buys a lot of drinks, so this moment usually doesn't arrive. Around 5am Burch and I had had enough (he was trying to pick up some local girls but his efforts, in spite of some promising dancefloor antics, proved unfruitful) and decided to walk home along one of the few lit roads. Lolita and Chris called to check on me and when they heard we were walking they came to pick us up in the car (apparently we weren’t supposed to be walking at that hour). After dropping Burch at home I thought we were headed home also. Instead we made an unannounced stop at a bar in the center of town. My faint protests ignored, Lolita and company continued drinking in the parking lot with some friends that had magically appeared. I recognized a few people from the disco, including a candidate for a mythical group I like to call GOB (gays of Benguela). At some point there were hamburgers involved, but details are fuzzy since I decided to make my mental state known by falling asleep in the backseat of the parked car. The sun was up around 6am when we finally made it home, and I slept well into the afternoon on Sunday.

After my routine breakfast (lunch, in this case) of corn flakes and strong coffee I went with my host sister Erica (who works as a quality control expert at the local Coca-Cola bottling plant) to pick up a family friend at the airport. His flight was late so we ended up taking a Sunday drive around a nearby town that featured such exciting attractions as a jacaré (crocodile) in a pretty sad looking pond. It was a great day actually, with a nice ocean breeze and about 70 degrees. Our conversation turned philosophical when Erica started talking about the human condition and how life is short, nothing is guaranteed, and how we should endeavor to enjoy each moment as it comes. I wanted to tell her this was exactly the message from Ecclesiastes, my favorite book of the Bible, but I didn’t want her to think I was religious because I’m not (and I wanted to avoid the kind of questions such a statement might inspire). Anyway we talked about relationships and the balance between the desire to share your life with someone special and the stress associated with the process (dealing with jealousy, insecurities, narcissism, etc.) It felt weird to be having a conversation like this in Portuguese and I'm not sure all my points came across clearly, but it was fun to try. I wanted to come out to her, but decided to focus on building our friendship first before going there. The sooner the better though, because she keeps asking what I think about the local girls. Oy.

Angola Contact Info

I finally have a phone; feel free to call any time.

Angola is effectively 5 hours ahead of the Eastern Time Zone in the US, but since Angola doesn't observe daylight savings this will change to 6 hours ahead of Eastern Time when the clocks change in the US in the fall. Think of it as the same time as London for now, and the same time as central Europe in the winter.

Number: +244 912 641 341

The first three numbers are the country code for Angola, so before that I think you have to dial 011 if calling from the states. Most of you know this already, but just in case...

Bom Dia from Benguela

Twenty-four hours in Benguela and what a change of pace from Luanda. There are no traffic jams, no constant threat of being mugged, and the air doesn't smell as funny. I'm here for five weeks to learn Portuguese, both to reprogram the Brazilian version that I learned previously and to learn how to use the language in a more professional work environment. I'm living with a local family in a household run by Lolita and sharing the house with two of her daughters (Erica and Chris...pronounced Chrish, both somewhat close to my age) and her son Nandu, who turns 14 next month.

There is a ton of road construction going on here, mostly as result of the ruling party's attempt to do well in the upcoming legislative elections in September. After 27 years of civil war you can imagine there is a lot of work to do. Some new roads are already opened, but most of town is still covered by the most potholed roads I've ever seen. You really need a 4x4 just to drive through town, although some intrepid motorists try with whatever vehicle they have available. The dirt road in front of the house I'm staying in has a huge trench in the middle where they are laying new water pipes, and I found out this morning that we don't have running water in the mornings as a result. I took a cursory sponge bath with some bucket water they drew the previous night (we have running water at night, which is apparently when I should be taking showers now). The power also went out last night (the first time that's happened here) but everywhere I've been has generator backup so it wasn't a big deal. I'll try to upload some photos soon...words alone can't really give an accurate description of this place. Until next time...

Welcome to Luanda

I arrived in Luanda today around 7am after a fairly uneventful 2-day trip from DC. Flights ran as scheduled (a rarity lately) but one of my bags did not make the trip. I wasn't alone, and after wading my way through the long line of other bag-less travelers to file my claim we were met by one of the current MBA volunteers to escort us to the apartment where we may or may not be living permanently (more than a few details are still up in the air). We were also met by Fernando, a representative from BP who escorted us through customs and arranged our transportation. Evidently he's also the lucky guy in charge of checking on my bag, which may or may not arrive on tomorrow's flight from Lisbon. I'm learning to temper my expectations regarding airline competency lately; the good news is that I'm in possession of all my clothes and short-term toiletries (including anti-malarials), so things could be worse.

Burch (a major Clemson fan and a colleague traveling with me) and I cleaned up at the apartment, which I was pleasantly surprised to find out had hot water, cable TV, air conditioning, a modern kitchen, and mosquito nets over the beds. Our only venture out today involved a tour of the local outdoor market where we picked up some vegetables, followed by a visit to the local "supermarket" for bottled water and really bad instant coffee.

It was evident from this brief exposure that life here is tough. And expensive. In fact, some sources claim Luanda is the most expensive city in the world, with "modern" apartments in downtown going for upwards of $8,000 per month. I'm sure the facts will change daily but so far it's clear that watching pennies (or kwanzas, as the local currency is called) will be required.

Although the apartment isn't in a great part of town (there really isn't anything to do nearby) it's close to the airport which could come in handy on travel days given that traffic in Luanda is also notoriously horrible. We have access to a car service which theoretically takes us wherever we want to go for free, but I'm waiting until tomorrow to give that a shot.

There have been a few "what the hell am I doing here" and "why on earth did I want to do this?" moments, but I think that's normal. We're here for two more days before heading to another coastal town (Benguela) for a month or so of language training and living with a local family. Fingers crossed the missing bag shows up before it's time to travel again...

Peru: Days 5 & 6

We had to get up at 4:30am to get on the road by 5:15 on our last full day in Peru, and it quickly became evident why. Our driver had to dodge boulders, tree stumps, huge agave plants, and many other kinds of debris that the strikers placed in the road the day before. The photo shows just an example - we dodged conditions like this for a full 90 minutes before arriving at the train station just in time to board the train to Macchu Picchu.















Along the way the vegetation changed from "high desert dry" to "rainforesty." It was another 30 minute bus ride up perfect switchbacks before we got to the site, and it was a "take your breath away moment."
















We toured the site and marveled at the sophistication of the engineering that made it possible. Hikes to see the Inca Drawbridge and the Sun Gate featured natural begonias and bromeliads along with great views of both the site and the surrounding mountain scenery.

That night I had a quiet dinner with my dad at the Monasterio hotel in Cusco (the hotel was actually a former monastery complete with its own chapel, which is now adjacent to the business center) and sampled my last serving of ceviche. Although it was good, the stuff at Sol y Luna in the Sacred Valley won the trip prize for all-time best.

Our last day included a day tour of Lima and what I remember most is the fact that it doesn't rain there. Apparently ever. I also finally learned some new features on my camera that allowed me to take better photos in dark situations. It's the little things, sometimes...

The trip home was uneventful and included flights that took off and arrived on time. It was a mere 24 hours at home to do last minute shopping and packing for the Angola adventure, which began the following day with travel to DC for a week of training.

Peru: Days 3 & 4

I should have known it was too good to be true. Not long after that last entry our guide Wilfredo informed us that a 2-day strike was going to shut down the rail service to Machu Piccu. Short of hiking 42 kilometers through the mountains, we weren't going to make it as planned (I would have considered it, but traveling with my 67 year-old dad made this option out of the question).

The worst part of the news was that we had to get up at 5am the next day to get to Cusco before the strikers blocked the roads. Even at 6am there were some boulders and debris in the road, but we made it to Cusco without any problem. My foul mood was lifted temporarily by the site of the "Chuckie" internet cafe, complete with photo images of the psychopath horror movie doll. Then we stopped at a roadside "cuyeria" and ate a little guinea pig. I was given the prized neck portion but I had trouble finding the meat. Apparently you're supposed to eat the skin also, but I demurred.

That was yesterday. Today we slept in and walked around the sites near our hotel (itself a former monastery, complete with a chapel with motion-sensor lights that illuminate the golden altar so brightly it sort of creeps you out). The main attraction was the strikers parading around the main square though. By afternoon all was quiet.




We're trying again tomorrow to see Machu Piccu. Fingers crossed...

Peru: Day 2

Peru is enchanting. I can tell based on the number of photos I've taken, and the numbers of photos I haven't taken but regretted. Today was another tour of sites in the "sacred valley." The skeptic in me originally thought the "sacred" part was just a marketing ploy to make the area sound more impressive. After today's adventures I changed my mind. It's an understatement.

We started after a breakfast of quinoa and yogurt touring the ruins and town of Ollantaytambo, which would turn even the most boring person into a fan of Inca stonemasonry. The best part about visiting this site was that it represented one of the few places where the Incas whooped up on the Spanish. Sort of an Inca Little Bighorn, I guess.















In the afternoon we drove around a lot of dusty roads at high altitude, and that's where things got interesting. A whole new layer of mountains appeared, some approaching 20,000 feet. I forgot how impressive the Andes were.





























Aside from the majestic mountain scenery, another highlight was visiting a salt mine, where water from a natural salty spring is channeled into small pools where the water evaporates leaving the salt behind. Evidently this activity has been going on since before Incan times, and the end result is stunning.
















I don't know what this country can do for an encore, but I'm looking forward to finding out. Did I mention that Inca Kola is really, really tasty?

Peru: Day 1

Five things I didn't know about Peru until today:

1. People eat guinea pigs to celebrate festivals and special occasions.

BEFORE:














AFTER (the facial expression doesn't inspire much confidence that the "roasting" was humane):














2. There are something like 300 types of potatoes in the area around Cuzco. Not sure how many this lady sold while napping.


















3. The Inca flag is a rainbow-esque flag, but not the same as the gay pride flag. But it's still fun to pretend (the last time I saw a rainbow flag that big I was standing at 18th & Castro trying to decide if I should succumb to the hot cookie taunting me from the window).














4. The Southern Cross is easily found next to the bright stars representing the eyes of the "llama constellation." Somehow missed that one in astronomy class...

5. Vicuñas are related to camels, have the softest wool of the Andean animals, were never domesticated, and refuse to have their picture taken directly in the face (trust me, I tried).