Gringo In Peru

Stuffing, cranberries and pumpkin pie are cornerstones of any Thanksgiving day dinner, in the U.S. and Peru.

Thanks to my wife and her family we had a Thanksgiving day feast with most of the trimmings.

Mita surprised me early in the morning with a can of pumpkin she brought back with her from Hawaii. Pumpkin pie is one of my favorite desserts of all time and I had resigned myself to going without this year.

The night before Vanessa and I went to the grocery store to buy a whole chicken and the ingredients for green bean casserole and stuffing. Since there is no Thanksgiving here, we had to make those sides from scratch. Thanks to the internet we found two easy recipes that worked brilliantly.

Mita was in charge of the chicken. We would have made turkey but it was just too expensive. I’m told turkey is saved for Christmas. She baked it in a mixture of wine, onion, and spices, which is the same way she’ll cook the Christmas bird.

I was in charge of the stuffing and pie. It was the first time I had made stuffing from scratch (thanks Stove Top) so I thought it would be hard. I combed through a lot of recipes and found one that looked easy. It was. The only modification I made was cooking it in the oven. This stuffing was meant for stuffing the bird. Instead I put it in an uncovered baking dish at 350 for 15 minutes and it came out a good mix of soggy and crunchy.

Next came the pie. Thankfully there is a pie recipe conveniently printed on the label. While its not my special recipe, it did the trick. Although, I think there’s a little more evaporated milk in a Peruvian can. The mix seemed a bit runnier than usual. We did buy a pie crust. It was a lot more flaky then American store crusts. Maybe it was full of trans fats.

It felt really good to be back in the kitchen. I cooked a lot for myself and baked for my co-workers when I lived in Kentucky. Unfortunately, my shift in Minneapolis zapped the life out of me and I didn’t cook that much. Although, I did make Vanessa a killer meatloaf one weekend. Here the maid cooks so there aren’t a lot of opportunities to clang the pots and pans.

Vanessa made the green bean casserole with a few major differences. There is no condensed soup here, so the cream of mushroom came from a powdered mix. Same thing with canned green beans and the fried onions on top. So the green beans and onions were fresh. Boy did that make a ton of difference. The soup wasn’t as gloppy and the fresh ingredients added new flavors you don’t get from grandma’s version.

Other American favorites we were able to track down for our feast included jellied (canned) cranberries and whipped cream in a can. While the canned cranberries were not ideal, they were a welcome addition and a little tough to track down.

Sorry Thanksgiving traditionalists, we did not have potatoes and gravy. There was left over “juice” from the chicken which made for a savory condiment over the stuffing and meat.

Green bean casserole, stuffing and pumpkin pie are foreign foods to the Peruvian diet. Vanessa’s step-dad liked them all and wants me to make stuffing again for Christmas. I’ll be more than happy to.

Tell the police, crack is widespread in Peru.

A few weeks ago billboards started popping for “Nuevos” (new) Crack.

Before you get too excited, its candy. Chocolate covered peanuts and chocolates with krispies that “crack” when you bite into it.

Its funny that a candy company in a country that grows coca leaves names its new product crack.

Oh, the irony.

Monday November 24th, 2008 I turned 33 years old. Which everyone here tells me is the age of Jesus Christ when he died.

Since it may be my first and only birthday in Peru I celebrated by with my Peruvian family and Peruvian food.

Vanessa’s mom (Mita) took me to a restaurant in the nearby suburb of Ate for food served mainly in the jungle areas of the country. There we met all of her brothers and sisters who live in Lima. They all grew up in “the jungle” and welcomed the chance to get a taste of home. It became quite a party.

A full plate. From top Juane, fried banana, cecina, tacacho

We started with tacacho, bananas mashed in a special wooden bowl, formed into a ball and lightly fried in pork fat. It’s much better than it sounds. Then we shared chorizo (sausage), cecina (dried beef steak. Think warm beef jerky except not as tough) and juanes which are softball-sized rice tomales with an hard-boiled egg, olive and chicken thigh tucked inside. The ball is wrapped in a green leaf, giving the rice a cilantro-like flavor. They are so big they are usually cut into four or more pieces and shared.

During our lunch I also tried some more exotic fair that would make me travel channel worthy. Uncle Ori shared his Majaz with me, a jungle rodent (called Paca in English). From the pictures it looks like a distant cousin of the chipmunk. Majaz meat tasted like a cross between beef and pork. It was pretty good.

We also split a bowl full of mamaco or ants. These ants won’t be showing up at your next picnic. Their bodies were the size of unpopped popcorn. Mamaco reminded me of the parts of crab or lobster you are not suppose to eat, but you’ve tried anyway. It’s a little grainy with a burn taste. They were alright, nothing great.

My birthday cake was chirimoya flavored. A Peruvian fruit that’s a little acidy but good. It’s hard to explain the texture and the flavor because its nothing like anything we have in the U.S.

Party people. Back row from left Mita, Ori, Eduardo, Alco, Luz. Front row Gilda, Me, Cecilia

In case you are wondering, they do sing happy birthday in Peru. The first verse is in English (happy birthday to you) the second verse is in Spanish and the singers clap along with the tune.

Later that night we went out for sushi and it was delicious. Maybe its because we are so close to the ocean, but really good sushi here is fairly inexpensive. Our family of five ate our fill of tasty rolls for around $80.

If you think thats expensive, one time Vanessa and I went to a high-end sushi bar in Downtown Minneapolis. Our tab for two was close to $100 and after that dinner we were still hungry and split a slice of pizza.

So if you like sushi, come to Peru.

I’d also like to thank all of you who posted birthday wishes on the site or sent e-mails. It’s always good to know more than just my family is reading my blog.

We’re back in Lima after our trip to the beach.

While its not beach season here yet, it was Vanessa’s birthday and it just happened to be a national holiday.

The beach house

Vanessa’s parents have a house in Playa Del Sol which I’m told is one of the more exclusive beach developments outside of Lima. (For a little preview of what the grounds look like click here then click on the Playa del Sol logo at the bottom of the page, launching a mini-slide show.)

It’s about two hours from our house to the beach. It would be easy for me to compare the beach house to the lake cabin except the two are very different.

Like everything else in Peru the whole compound is blocked off from public view. You have to go through two gates to get in and here the guards actually check to make sure you belong.

Vanessa’s parents house is on the first row, meaning its closest to the water. Its really not that close though. I would guess the Pacific is a good 200 yards or more from the door.

Two fools brave the cold ocean water

This weekend the ocean was rough. The waves were making a booming sound as they hit the beach. That didn’t keep me from being battered around by them. I braved the waves with Silvanilla who you may remember from this post. They were cold and fierce. We didn’t venture out too far because of the rough seas, but we got our fill of quality ocean time.

If you don’t like the ocean, there is a pool. Once again me and Silvanilla were the only ones to take advantage of it all.

One key difference between the beach and the lake is work. There’s nothing else to do but relax at the beach. Just like the house in Lima, there is a maid who does all the cooking and cleaning. Since its a private community, a yard man takes care of the lawn and plants. And if you are feeling really lazy there is a restaurant that delivers fresh seafood to your house on regular dinner plates.

The only real work we did was a barbecue Saturday night. We roasted chicken, beef and sausages on the grill.

Sunset at the playa

Things at the beach are almost a little too relaxed. One night Vanessa’s sister had a bonfire for her friends. Three guys showed up at the house with a wheelbarrow full of wood. They dug the hole, lit the fire and around two in the morning came by to clean it up off the beach. Amazing.

My sister spent a summer as a nanny on Long Island, where the houses were big, the kids were spoiled and the money flowed like water, but this seemed much more exclusive to me. In theory anyone could drive to Long Island and try to break into the social circles. At the beach you’d have to climb the wall.

Another unique feature of the beach is the community of Asia. It’s like a big closed outdoor mall with all the same stores and restaurants you find in Lima. The difference is the stores are only open during the summer season. Many people have told me the stores in Asia make more money over the summer than some of their year-round counterparts in the city. Needless to say, its not summer so the whole area was like a ghost town this weekend.

I’m told we’ll go back to the beach after Christmas to stay for most of the summer. While the beach does have just about everything, we will have to go to Lima to do laundry.

After staying off the Peruvian roads for months, today I got behind the wheel.

We were going to the mall when Vanessa’s mom said she felt dizzy. So I was bumped up from co-pilot to pilot.

Really it wasn’t that bad. We got there and back in one piece. I’m not ready for the craziness that is Central Lima… yet.

Remember when I told you about not voting because of the pony express type mail service here in Peru. Wouldn’t you know the one time a piece of mail got here in a timely fashion, it still didn’t get to the addressee (that would be me).

My parents apparently sent me a birthday card. I use “apparently” because once the dog got a hold of it, there wasn’t much left.

What's left of the card

I took a picture of the larger pieces of what was once, I’m sure a heartfelt Hallmark greeting. The rest were already confetti sized or already part of the lawn.

Here’s what I could piece together from what was left: something about money (Thanks mom), and there was a picture of my parents so I wouldn’t forget what they looked like. (awww). All that was left of the picture was a piece of my dad’s arm (it looked like he was wearing a suit jacket. Fancy!) and my mom’s left eye. Everything else was shredded.

You know what they say, it was the thought that counts.

Sorry Mom.

The future of the dog is uncertain. This isn’t the first time this has happened. He’s chewed up bills, party invitations and other important pieces of mail.

Just the other day Lucas (the dog) ran under the car while it was backing up. The tires nicked his hind legs, causing panic and a Sunday night search for a open vet. Lucas is fine, who knows if he learned his lesson.

Anybody know the dog whisperer? We could use his number.

Vanessa’s parents are back from their 2 1/2 week trip to Hawaii.

They got home last night after a grueling 25 hours of traveling. They started Saturday night around 9 our time in Hawaii, with stops in Los Angeles and Miami before making it back to Lima around Midnight our time Sunday night/Monday morning.

I was sleeping when they came home.

They brought with them a boatload of American stuff you just can’t get in Peru. Everybody wanted something. I got KoolAid tropical fruit punch. Vanessa got Reese’s peanut butter cups. Those are the highlights, everything else is standard daily fare you won’t get excited for.

Their arrival means my days of “man of the house” are over. Oh, well.

Its amazing who you might run into in Peru.

A few weeks ago I randomly e-mailed my friend Ashley to see what’s up. Turns out she spent the last month in volunteering in Chimbote, Peru a 6 hour bus ride from Lima.

Last night she made it to Lima to catch her 1 A.M. flight back to the U.S.

Ashley and I worked together at the college newspaper. As she reminded me, she was a freshman and I was a senior when we met. (Man I’m old) She ditched her college plans to become an aspiring journalist, starting all over to go pre-med. Now she’s just finishing up her last year of medical school at the University of North Dakota and looking to do her residency. She is originally from Absaraka, ND home of the haunted church.

Ashley, Me, V

To prove how out of touch we’ve been, the last time I saw her she was applying to medical schools. It was a pleasant surprise to find out she was in Peru and making a Lima stop.

We met her for dinner last night and talked about Peru, what she did in Chimbote, and just caught up.

This was the second time she volunteered in Chimbote and works with through a priest from Fargo who’s been there for 30 years. She helped the sick in a clinic, gave an AIDS/Safe sex presentation and helped plan for the mission’s future. She said the mission really needs people power to put many of its plans into action.

It was great to see her after four years and its amazing how two friends from MSU-Moorhead were able to cross paths in Lima, Peru. Its a small world after all.

More proof of the ever shrinking earth: Vanessa’s uncle told us he’s renting an apartment to a couple from Minnesota and they would like to meet us.

For my birthday (Nov. 24th) Vanessa secured two tickets for last night’s R.E.M. concert in Lima.

R.E.M is one of my favorite bands of all time so this had all the makings of a great evening. Then we hit a snag.

Remember my cold? Vanessa caught it, forcing her to call in sick to work the day of the concert. This left me SOL. The concert was at the national stadium near downtown Lima. I don’t drive here and if I did, there is literally nowhere to park.

Things were not looking good. Then Vanessa began working the phones. It turned out one of her cousins agreed to go with me. She’s in her mid 20’s and I’m not sure if she was such a big R.E.M. fan, but who can resist a free ticket to a sold out concert.

Traffic on the way to the show was its usual hell. Cars going every which way, horns honking. Its more than “bumper to bumper”. In auto racing when one car bumps another car its called “trading paint”. Drivers in Peru come close to trading paint daily. While the cars never really touch each other, I could easily roll down the window and shake the hand of the driver of the car next to us. We are that close.

Once we got to the stadium we had to run the gauntlet to get to our entrance. Sidewalks were crowded with other concert goers, ticket scalpers, and street salespeople offering everything from sandwiches, beer, smokes and pirate concert t-shirts.

We were in the “stand” section which was right by the stage. Other cleverly named R.E.M. inspired seating choices included “The one I love” and “Shiny Happy Palco”. When we got there opening band Travis was in the opening notes of “sing”, one of the few songs I knew by the Brit band.

Travis seemed to have a good fan base in Lima. Quite a few people were singing along as they played. Travis did a good job, but I found their music a bit bland. It would work good in a coffee shop not so much for the grandness of a stadium show.

After Travis we made our way closer to the front. We were to the right of the stage about 10 rows deep. Great sight-lines and a great show. They played my personal favorite song “Driver 8″ in the #4 slot in the show. The crowd turned “The One I love” and “Everybody Hurts” into massive sing-a-longs.

Our ride was picking us up at 11:30 which was when R.E.M. wrapped up its set. We did not make the encore. As we were leaving the stadium the first few notes of “Supernatural Superserious” could be heard escaping into the Lima night.

It was worth skipping the encore because the ride home was smooth sailing. 20 minutes later it would have been a disaster. I would have liked to have heard “Fall On Me” live. Oh well. I’m sure R.E.M. will tour again.

This poor quality video shows how packed the stadium was. This may have been one of the largest concerts I’ve ever been to.

Now a few random notes about the concert. I hate to say I’m getting too old for this stuff, but the older I get the more large crowds are a total turn off. And I’m proud to admit I was wearing ear plugs. Its true you do tend to loose a lot of the “high end”, but you can hear everything. Once you take the earplugs out I notice this eternal high pitch buzzing coming out of the P.A.

During Travis I thought there was too much thump in the bass. Then I watched the bassist, who was totally guilty of playing rockstar bass. Thumping the top two strings along with the rhythm of the bass drum, ignoring the bottom two strings. When R.E.M. came on you could really tell the difference. Mike Mills would add little “fills” to the bass line that don’t exist on record. It was great. The musicianship would be lost by average concert goer who mainly nods his or her head to the vocals, guitars and cymbal crashes.

I’ve also learned I don’t like opening acts that much. Now I know why most arenas stay empty when the concert starts. The opening act comes on plays for 40 minutes or so, the house lights come up and the place is packed. Now, that’s not to say opening acts are worthless. I’ve been surprised by many and interested in many more.  Overall though they become a collissal waste of time, but Rush may be the only band I know of that plays a full 2+ hour solo show with an intermission.  In the same breath, I realize young bands have to start somewhere.

It was a great show and I’m glad I went.

Thanks V.

Today one of the mades came to me with the numbers 1 through 10 written on a piece of paper with the instructions “En Ingles”.

I wrote out the English word for each number and helped her pronounce it.

Appi learning to count, in English

The whole thing was very Miracle Worker-esque, except Appi could hear. Many of the words that came out of her mouth didn’t sound at all like what I just said, or any numbers you would recognize.

One was own-ay. Five sometimes sounded like fuck. Eight proved to be a whole bag of complicated, plus she kept trying to add an “s” to the end.

I can’t be too hard on her. There are a lot of sounds she made that don’t exist in Spanish. I butcher Spanish in front of her everyday. You would be surprised how different letter combinations in our (mostly) shared alphabet can make such exotic sounds. When we hear Spanish in the U.S. its usually simple words like taco or a baseball play-by-play guy butchering a Latin American player’s name.

Appi comes from the countryside of Peru and is fluent in both Spanish and Quechua (CATCH-wa) the native Peruvian language. She is only 18 and never finished high school. Everyday around 5 o’clock she catches a combi to spend her evenings studying for G.E.D.

Now she’s trying to learn English.

Wish her luck.