Peru: Ancient Civilization.
12/15/2009
10/28/2009
Salto Angel
Salto Angel or "Angel Jump" as they say here in Venezuela is...
06/29/2009
Buenos Aires
Buenos Aires. Certainly the most famous of South American cities.
06/28/2009
Car Culture in Venezuela
Cars are king here in Venezuela. But that does not mean they receive royal treatment.
03/09/2009
Lynn's Food Blog I
We´ve been meaning to do a blog on this one...but keep slacking. I´ll try to offer a preview. The staple of the country is an arepa. Arepas are disks of baked (or fried) corn meal anywhere from 2 to four inches in diameter. The meal they are made from is similar to that used to make masa for tamales. Somehow there is a difference and it comes when the corn is being milled (one has additives the other not...I am still researching this). The difference in taste is minimal, but there is a difference in texture. When you make an arepa and fry it in a skillet (with a bit o´butter), the outside is hard and it makes a thump when you hit it if it´s done, but the inside is still a bit sticky like a hushpuppy not quite done all the way. Anyhoo, they take these arepas and serve them in place of bread with soup and other platos fuertes or main dishes OR (the better use) they cut them in half and stuff them with an assortment of fillings to be eaten like a sandwich. Some of our favorite fillings are La Reina Pepiada (Reina is queen, still don´t know what pepiada means) which is a chicken salad with mayo and avocado and carne mechada (pulled beef stewed in tomato pepper sofrito). This brings me to the National dish...pabellon criollo. Pabellon criollo is the flank steak or other nearby cut (the art of butchery is not well-practiced here...alas) which is boiled until you can pull it. Then you make a sofrito of onion, garlic, aji (fresh small not hot, but peppery peppers), tomato or ketchup (your choice) and worscestire (sp?) sauce. Once you have a nice sofriton (deep red) you stew the meat in it adding water and reducing until you have some yummy pot-roast tasting goodness. Then you make a basic white rice, with a bit of onion, butter, and stock. You take plantains that are just ripened and fry them in long slices called tejadas. Finally, you cook a pot of black beans with onion, garlic, a pork product (e.g. bacon), and papelón. Papelon is a strong dark brown cane sugar. It is sold in 1 X 2 X 4 inch blocks on the street and is used to sweeten beans and make a drink called papelón con limón (excellent sweet and sour goodness renouned by local ladies to help with the kidneys and keep your man peeing). Anyways, main point is the beans come out very sweet, but the mechada is very salty. The meal is served all together arranged in such a way as to imitate the Venezuelan flag...the yellow from the plantains, the red from the stewed beef, and the black beans for the blue. It is served everywhere. Quality varies...best to make it yourself! What else? Soups or hervidas are quite popular but not very well done. Hervidas comes from boiling and if you have ever made a stock that is basically an hervida...complete with scraps of meat clinging to large bones and roughly chopped veggies...usually pumpkin, potato, ocomochino (Sean is pretty sure this is a taro variety), yucca, and green plantain (which turns an unpleasant gray upon being boiled). We are not too fond of the soups...plain and not made with much care...there is no amount of hot sauce that makes us want them. On a nicer note, the cremas (soups made with cream) can be quite good. Our favorite is crema de auyama (or pumpkin) and is good at most places although sometimes it is served a little cold or a bit too thick. Roasted pig? NO...alas. In fact for several months we did not even see pork at the stores or markets. In fact, the pork world is sorely neglected. The pigs that are here are fed milk with their feed which gives their raw meat an off-putting flavor and at first kept me from wanting to buy any when we could find it. Now that Sean has a smoker (you´ve seen the silver bullet blog I presume), we have been smoking ribs and shoulders when we manage to find them and they are darn tasty. Some restaurants do have pork regularly but it is often grilled to the point of leather and has many of the undesirable parts still on...although there is great bacon available (thick and salty but not very smoky), the rest of the pork world is not very good. Especially the sausages which have a soy-like texture and the off-putting smell described earlier. In the end, you have to understand that this is not a roasting/barbequeing culture. People here love their grills and the best meats to get are chicken and lomito or the loin of the cow. There are tons of polleros or chicken roasting shacks where you get a rotissirie roasted chicken or a spatchcocked grilled chicken. Both places will serve you a half or a whole chicken (seasoned only with salt...lots of it) chopped in pieces accompanied by fried yucca (a thing of beauty), cabbage salad (you dress it yourself with olive oil and white vinergar) and/or arepas/bollitos (little hot dog-shaped rolls of arepa dough that have been boiled....dumpling-esque). This is not a bad meal. The way to judge the superiority of the pollero is by the crispiness of the skin and their guasacaca. Guasacaca is a great condiment made from onions, garlic, vinergar and/or lime juice, avocado, and cilantro. I know, when you read the ingredients it sounds like guacamole, but not so, the liquid part of the ratio is high enough so that when you blend it together it is more like a salsa in texture. Every place has a different guasacaca...it is very personal. Some are light you up hot...some have no heat and taste of avocado and/or mayonnaise (another ingredient to some), etc. It is always fun trying these out. Guasacaca is served with tequeños, pinchos, and empanadas which brings me to the next topic...street food. With each sporting event, sundays at the park, or just late at night on the street, you will find a variety of street food. Of course, arepas are on this list along with hot dogs and hamburgers. The difference between hot dogs and hamburgers here and the states is definitely quality of meat. The hot dogs are super skinny...we are talking diameter or a quarter to a half inch and the hamburgers are super thin...quarter inch if you are lucky. The topping are also different. Most hot dogs come with finely shredded raw cabbage, carrots, corn, mayonnaise, ketchup, and shoestring potatoes (like the ones from the can in the snack section of us convenient stores). Hamburger toppings are similar with the option of putting a slice of boiled ham and a fried over-medium egg on top. My favorite street food is definitely empanadas. The flour is a bit different...it has some white flour mixed with the corn and I think a bit of sugar because it is sweeter. The fillings are chicken, fish, meat, and cheese. The fish, chicken, and meat varieties are prepared with a sofrito much-like the mechada described above. Deep-fried with hot sauce and/or guasacaca they are a tasty treat usually eaten in the morning on the way to work, but also at night after sporting events. The cheese filling is cheese made by hand that is very salty. It is sold at the markets in big blocks, made from cow´s milk I think, but I need to research that, and served a bit wet from sitting in its brine. It is white with some holes in it ranging from small to big. Some varieties like queso guayanesa has no holes and is much creamier though still tart and salty. I think it might be from goats or sheep...again still need to research this. The empanadas are good, but a bit too salty for me. Sean gets in the mood for them sometimes and orders cheese. The fish is Cazón which means little shark. I am not sure if we confirmed this fish to actually be in the shark family or not but the meat is good. Once it is stewed with the sofrito it is a bit reminiscent of bacalao Spanish style just not quite as garlicky and no bones. Tequeños are Venezuelan´s answer to breadsticks. When fresh out of the oil they have an almost pastry-like flakiness to them and a chewy cheese center. Excellent with guasacaca and a beer. What else? Oh yeah, pinchos. These are meat sticks. The meat (beef or chicken or both) is marinated in an aliño marinade. Aliño is a local seasoning made from ground annatto seed, paprika, cumin and I am not sure what else. I believe the aliño is mixed with the meat and that is it until grilling, but there may be a little oil or lime juice added to the marinade as well. Typically, these carts have a flat grill like you see in a restaurant with the raw meat lying there in the aliño colored liquid with chopped aji peppers and onions, so there has got to be a liquid element. Anyway, they skewer the meat, grill it on the accompanying charcoal grill that is also on their cart, serve it with one or two bites of bolito on the end of the stick and guasacaca. I love a good meat stick, but they are hit and miss...sometimes there is some shaggy, chewy meat included that you just have to swallow. Sometimes though, they are perfection!!! The other main thing from eastern Venezuela are cachapas and the myriad of fresh juices, but I must end for now...let this be a preview for the blog and remember that we still have the Venezuelan andes and their cuisine to talk about. We just returned from our first visit to that side of the country. In short, it has been fun learning about Venezuelan food and trying it all. We have had some highs and lows. In the end, the ingredients are always good, but sometimes care is not taken by the cook. When you have both, the food is very nice, but never too spicy. Curries, etc. are not part of the food here. Much more to come...keep checking in on the blog...if we can keep internet for a whole weekend we´ll update it with pictures, too! |
02/14/2009
The Silver Bullet
Venezuela is not too big on Barbeque. They certainly like to grill here but the slow long process of Barbeque is not a big part of outdoor cooking. In fact, as I tried to find a barbeque here at all the stores I often got the nose-scrunch. Venezuelans scunch up their noses when they do not understand.
I did find a Venezuelan/Colombian whose father works as a metal smith who said he could create a barbeque rig from the plentiful steel oil barrels found throughout Venezuela if I provided a design and when he had time. I immediately provided the design and asked about price and delivery date.
No price. No delivery date. But a promise that I he would manufacture it as soon as he could.
I waited weeks... nothing.
Weeks became months... nothing.
At this rate I would get the barbeque just as I was ready to return to the USA. And I wanted barbeque!
I took the matter into my own hands. In the small store throughout the city, which are almost exclusively owned by Chinese immigrants they have a lot of cheap Chinese products. Among the products are thin aluminum pots in a variety of sizes. I also found some round grill cages fro fish. I decided between these things I could produce something close in design to my Webber Bullet back in Seattle.
The bottom pot is the fire. I have a round grill with the coals on it. Below the fire are holes. I had to add each hole one by one to get the right amount of air to keep the fire going but not too hot. The second pot has the bottom cut out and replaced by another round grill. This allows the fire and smoke to come up. On the grill at the bottom of the pot is a steel bowl filled with water. This keeps temperatures low and adds moisture to the smoker. On top of that pot is a lid with most of the cover cut out and replaced by a round grill. This is where the meat sits. And, of course, on top of the meat is another pot turned upside-down to hold the smoke in and keep the temperature down. I drilled a couple of holes in this and put in the lit handle so I can lift it off to check the whole thing.
All the materials cost me less than $50 US. The Weber Bullet costs $300 US or more.
We have successfully barbequed pork butt, beer-can chicken, ribs (as shown in the picture). It seems to work as well as the weber. I have described this to several interested Venezuelans and they seem to think I am a bit goofy (they may be right). But they are interested in trying the food out. We have several barbeques planned this month.
By the way the picture shown are from the Super Bowl at the Boss's house. The only Venezuelans that showed up for the game were vegetarians. How's that for irony.
02/07/2009
Trinidad
Trinidad
10/23/2008
Santa Fe: Our Favorite Place on the Caribbean Coast... So Far
We figuratively and literally stumbled onto Santa Fe. Our intention had been to go to a beach called Playa Colorada near the port city of Puerto La Cuz. We had made reservations at a place called Jakera Lodge for ourselves and several other teachers from Lynn’s school. When we got to Puerta La Cruz and called the lodge the brother of the person I had made reservations with told me that there was no reservation and no transportation to the lodge as promised. We were all flabbergasted, but what could we do?
We took taxis to the beach nonetheless figuring that we could find another place. When we got there we spread out into the neighborhood (not much of a village) looking for a place. There was no luck. The posadas (Bed and no Breakfasts) were all full. We even went to the Jakera Lodge in case the brother who made the reservation would honor it. The other brother was there and rudely told us that he had already told us there was no room. That was fine though, the place looked run down, dirty and buggy. We also found out it was very over-priced. I think it depends on overseas tourists that don’t know otherwise.
But we were stuck and were thinking about going back to Puerto La Cruz while having a beer to cool down.
Then the Aussie PE teacher, Brad, had a great idea. He had been by a place called Santa Fe and he thought it looked nice. We caught the next bus heading east in the hop of better luck.
And luck we had. After a curvy, bumpy ride along the coast in an old bus, we got to Santa Fe. The first posada we checked was full. But the next one—one that was right on the beach—had rooms. And they were clean, breezy and half the price of our reservation! We took the rooms immediately.
After settling in, we all went down to the beach next to the “café” and drank beers while standing in the water. Very chill. Later we ate at the Café Del Mar (also the name of our posada) and found out the food was great. The red snapper and the shrimp we had was so well prepared and so fresh. We were astonished at how the day that had been a bit rough earlier had changed so much. We toasted our good fortune with some tasty caparinias.
The next day we took a launch out to a pair of islands with a great snorkeling area around them. We spent most the morning snorkeling. The snorkeling was great. The thing I am struck by s all the coral heads have colorful tubeworms popping out. The colors of the Caribbean are amazing. But as the day got hotter more and more boats showed up and music began to blast and an ice-cream vender swam by pushing an ice-cream cart through the water… it was becoming quite a scene. We left just in time.
We only had the weekend and so we headed back the next day. But we all had such a great time we planned on returning for a longer stay the next time the teachers had a break.
That break came several weeks later. It was a three-day weekend.
We went straight to the beach this time. We had a number of people from the school with us including a couple of Canadians visiting one of the teachers. The lady who ran the posada seemed glad to see us again. We checked in and jumped in the water. The next day we decided to go visit another island. The island is called Caracas just like the capital of Venezuela. (The Caracas were an indigenous coastal tribe that fought the Spanish Conquistadors.)
Caracas island is part of the Mochima National Park. It is a dry windswept island full of cactus and iguanas. The water was a bit rough from the hurricanes up north so I was the only one who went into the water. It was nice to be in the water and see all the nice big fish. That's the nice thing about a marine reserve the fish are not afraid and are quite big. After swimming I joined the rest of the people drinking rumgrias (rum mixed with a fruity local bottled sangria) and we spent most the afternoon talking and enjoying the beach. In the later afternoon we decided to return to Santa Fe but we first stopped off at a small village on the way back. Luckily lynn and I speak spanish and overheard that the boat capatain was going to let a couple of the venezuelans see if the villag had caught any lobsters. I jumped off the boat with the two other potentail lobster buyers.
They has lobster! The two guys I was with said they wanted two and three lobsters. I said I wanted two. The fisherman said he only had five lobsters total. I quickly jumped in and said I only wanted one then but I wanted the biggest one. I got it! The other two got two lobsters each.
After the lobster purchase the captain took us to a protected bay to do some snorkeling. This time most everyone got in and were enjoying all the protected sea life. But then it began to rain so we got back in to go back to Santa Fe.
The rain then turned into a dangerous storm with lightening striking the water all around us. The captain handed over control of the motor to one of the boys that worked for him and went to front to guide the boat. He didn't fool me. He wanted as far away from that lightning-attracting motor as possible. It was miserable having the wind rain and near hits of lightening all around. But w made it. In fact as we pulled in we saw that we had quit an audience. Everyone had gathered on the beach to see if we got hit by lightening. I was glad we could disappoint them.
That night we asked the Lady who ran the posada to cook the lobster. She said she couldn't because she didn't know how to clean it. I said I did. She than agreed but charged a bit much for cooking it. But that was okay because we got to eat lobster that night.
The next day we explored the town a bit. We ate some empinadas at the fish market and tried our first hallacas. Hallacas are bits of pork, olives, capers, anything one wishes surrounded by corn dough and then wrapped in banana leaves and tied up with string. Then they are boiled or steamed. They a very nice eating a are supposed to be Bruce Lee's favorite Venezuelan dish. They are Eaten only before Christmas and because there is some much variety to what they contain they are always very different. Lynn and I have eaten a number of them from various places and hey are always quite interesting. I will miss them next month.
The next day was the day we had to go back to Maturín. We saw the captain and his crew as we were leaving and promised to be back soon.
10/18/2008
International School of Monagas (ISM)
I came here not just for the beach but also for a job. Work started August 13th...several weeks earlier than in Seattle. My summer was cut short. With my only experience having been in public school, I wasn't sure what to expect from a private institution. We began, however, the usual way with an orientation for the new teachers and a plan for the year for the returning crew. We set up our grade books, stocked up on supplies, decorated our room, and planned opening week 'get to know you' activities. The night before the first day of classes, I had trouble sleeping nervous as always about the new year. Then I saw the students. One 7th-grade student approached me confidently and asked, "Are you Mrs. Rody?" The butterflies left with the word, "Yes." The year had begun.
Being the one and only math teacher for 7th-12th grade has taken some getting used to. I was given a room, text books, a computer, and free reign. I wasn't sure how to proceed especially with the classes I haven't taught yet. I immediately checked the standards, mapped out some rough units, and wrote syllabi. The next step was to assess the students. What I began to see in the first few weeks was that I would be up against the exact opposite of what I faced in Seattle.
Generally, Students here at ISM are computationally fluent. They can solve one and two-step equations. They can spout facts from the tops of their heads. They can make coordinate graphs and tables. Their work is neat, organized, and they are always turning in their homework. Just don't ask them what the answer means or why they are choosing a particular technique because they don't know. They have been doing mathematics in a vacuum.
In Seattle, conversely, generally speaking students lack procedural skills Students typically understand the problem to be solved, what the variables are and what they mean, even the strategy to solve it, but are able to execute due to the lack of computational skills. After one quarter of work, I am convinced more than ever that you must include both skills and concepts. Not unlike the Nature vs. Nurture debate, the Reform vs. Traditional approaches to teaching mathematics should not be thought of as mutually exclusive.
Now the challenge came for me to create my own models, my own investigations, and my own higher-order thinking problems. Not easy… especially when the context is not your own. Profit/Break-even problems were about the student council selling bocadillos (literally “small mouths,” local gummy candies made from tropical fruits). Distance=Rate X Time comes in the form of trips to the beach in competing por puestos (literally, for hire, this is a ‘taxi’ in the form of a street car that travels between towns/cities). Instead of looking at color distributions on M&Ms, we looked at Tropi-Pogos (gumballs of different colors that come 6 in a pack), etc.
The students have been patient with me, working diligently on my application problems. Though they have already made great strides in problem-solving skills, they remain a bit uncomfortable when asked to make a guess or to try a strategy even if it might result in the wrong answer, etc. They prefer to get it right the first time and do not like it when I won’t tell them what to do.
Our school is small—my entire load is 55 students—and the kids are like brothers and sisters. Therefore, I didn’t feel like I needed to spend a lot of time on relationships and community like I do in Seattle at the beginning of the year. I jumped into the mathematics. Reflecting on the first quarter, I realize that community is just as important as ever. The relationships I am building with these students is what will allow them to take the necessary chance to become better problem-solvers. They are getting things wrong. We are using lots of public records. When those records hold mistakes, we talk about them as excellent places from which to make their next move and not a useless effort to be forgotten. I am seeing progress.
Students are starting to link the models to the skills, are learning to redirect their frustrations into defiance to the math problem. They are not giving up.
Everyday I wake at 5:30ish with the sun as Chavez wanted when he turned the clock back 1.5 hours from where it should be. The white truck you see in the pictures takes me and my colleagues 7km to the campus—leaving punctually at 6:45AM. We all sit in the back, windows open wide. Occasionally before we leave, we get empanadas for breakfast from the street vendor in front of our building. If we do not hit traffic, we arrive around 7:00. Class starts at 7:35. There are seven periods in our day each 43 minutes long.
At ISM students have a lot more freedom than in Seattle. For example, the campus is theirs from the moment they arrive. They play soccer in the field, paddleball on the sidewalks or lounge around the picnic tables. When first bell rings they make a dash for the block in which their first class will be held. In the pictures, you can see several buildings separate from each other. Each is a block housing different grade levels. We are a nursery through 12th grade school. Their lockers are in the middle of the block with the classes being around the center. From 9:10 to 9:25 they have snack. The student council opens the kiosk and sells popcorn, candies, chips, cachapas, arepas, milkshakes, juice, Gatorade, and tea. Lunch is eaten at the picnic tables where students of all grade levels sit together. Their belongings are left everywhere…nothing goes missing. As I said, this is just one big family.
The awnings you see in the building are made of corrugated steel and designed to protect us all from the hard rains that come from August to December. On occasion, we lose power from the storms and live life in 90 degree plus tropical heat without air conditioning doing mathematics as usual. You can see in one of the photos the sky darkening as a massive afternoon thunderstorm moves in.
The rains make for a green campus, however as you can hopefully see from the pictures complete with all of the wildlife that comes with it. Students seem oblivious to the lizards, the fowl, the cattle that stroll by, etc. They only become interested when someone finds a snake as they are typically coral snakes and quite venomous.
We are coming up on Halloween now, which we, as an ‘American’ school, celebrate. I use quotations because 99% of the student body is Latino largely from South America and Mexico. Not much of a Central American representation. I now appreciate how hard it must be for a Latino student to come to America and live under the humorless and trustless system that our public schools have become. No wonder gangs are a problem, they are used to everyone being part of their family. I am sure now that they are lonely.
I was waiting for my mid-morning popcorn the other morning watching the cows come by and a big rain cloud coming in. Students were chatting about this and that in Spanish providing background noise for my reflection. The mountains that separate me from the coast were clouding over on the horizon. My nose was full with the smell of rain. A bead of sweat rolled down my face. “Mrs. Rody…your popcorn,” a student said. I thanked her and headed off to my room. “Buen provecho,” she added. Roughly translated, good providings. Venezuela has been that so far.
08/08/2008
A Caribbean ISLAND Interlude
Okay, I admit it I took the title of this and the last post from Ann Vanderhoof, but let's just say that she obviously took the idea from Jimmy Buffet who took it from Columbus who took it from the Caribes who took it from the Arawaks.... Originality is over-rated.
With work looming like a big winter wave, we decided it was time to head out for a last beach blast. We took a por puesto to Puerto La Cruz which is to the west of the mountain range that stands between us and the sea. The ride was faster and smoother because there is a real highway for much of the way there. It is also on the open fields that harbor all the oil. Every few miles we passed oil derricks with tall towers next to them spitting flames toward the sky. Very surreal. I will get a photo soon.
We did make it by noon to Puerto La Cruz which is a big, dirty city next to the sea. We were certainly going to have to get out to some of the beaches outside the city. We took a walk down to the city beach looking for a place to eat and saw--at the far end of the beach--the ferry that went to Margarita Island. We decided to walk over to it and if there was a ferry we would take it.
A long, hot walk later we had tickets to ride the fast ferry to the island.
We had arrived just minutes before the ferry's departure and ended up at the end of the line. That meant we had last choice of seats. We ended up in the bottom deck watching Antz the movie in Spanish. It would not have been bad except the air conditioning was on high. And because we were sweaty we felt like we were in the Arctic. Luckily we had some long-sleeve shirts to wear but it was not enough. But by the end of the trip someone (I take the fifth on revealing who) turned down the air conditioning.
We warmed up outside quickly. And then we needed transportation. We waded through all the taxi drivers shouting, "TAXI" and got on a bus. The bus was soon nearly full but we were not moving. Many of the other buses were going and the taxis were also going. A group on the bus got off and took a taxi and we were still not moving. An older lady asked is anyone wanted to share a taxi and we said yes. We were off.
Outside the bus driver asked what was going on. He even looked at us and said that the crazy "yanques" didn't know nothing. Lynn let him have it! "We are looking for a taxi because this but is not not moving and everyone else is leaving the bus...." He told her that he was waiting for it to get completely full. That's when the old lady let him have it yelling at him telling him he was stupid and that he had a full bus but now we were all leaving and a big group had already left...
During all that commotion a chubby boy wandered around the side of another bus and motioned to me and anyone else not fighting with the other bus driver to come to his father's bus. I did and soon the entire group from the other bus followed. He had a full bus instantly and was quick to get moving. I think he was afraid of the old lady. I know I was.
It was a long ride into Porlamar (the biggest city on the island) but it was nice to see how big Margarita Island is. We got dropped off in the center when the traffic started piling up. We then wandered around looking for a hotel. For giggles we stopped at the biggest one on the beach. About $300 US a night. Fagedabowdit. Just off in the distance was Hotel María Luisa. She looked good.
And she was. About $40 US a night and we had a view of the expensive hotel! (You can see it in the picture to the left.) We had cable tv air-conditioning and the most powerful shower in all of Venezuela. It nearly ripped my skin off.
That night we had the seafood special at a restaurant on the beach. A big--I mean BIG--pile of all the creatures living right there off shore. We even had whole, cooked crabs the size of my thumb. We ate as much as we could and wandered off to bed.
We only had one full day there so the next day we did what most people who come to Isla Margarita do. We shopped. Isla Margarita is a self-proclaimed Duty-Free zone and so things a are cheap there. And they are. I bought a couple of cuban Guayabera shirts and Lynn got some clothes from the "Mujer Robusta" shop (I will not translate out of fear).
In the afternoon we took a taxi to a local beach. Most of the pictures on the blog are of the beach. Basically we swam a bit and drank beer like all the other people on the beach. It was nice to just relax.
That night a bit tired and sunburnt we went to a hotel with a bar restaurant run by a German. It was fun to have German food there on an island off the coast of South America. And let me tell you it was good food as good as the People's Pub in Seattle.
After a skin-tearing shower we went to sleep. The next day we took the refrigerated ferry back to the continent and headed back by Por Puesto to Maturín. The dreaded thing called work started the next day.
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