The Mall at Punta Carretas

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We have now been to this mall twice. Once to try and find phones and this time to try and find fresh herbs. It is approximately a two mile walk from our house. The supermarket near our house has some fresh herbs, but doesn’t have cilantro, parsley or dill. We wanted to get some cilantro to include in our next project, making empanadas!

Entrance to the Punta Carettas mall.

The mall is very similar to malls in the U.S. There are lots of stores, lots of little places to eat. They have a food court that includes the token chinese food, mexican food, McDonalds and Burger King. We couldn’t really understand why the lines were so long at the McDonalds and Burger King when people could get fresh made chivitos, pasta, or pizza for the same price or cheaper. I bet it has something to do with the super-size coke. Most other places include drinks that are small (i.e. less than a can of soda), whereas McDonalds has the same 20 oz beverage as their small size. We enjoyed the chivitos and fresh pasta!

The mall is huge. It has three separate floors and skylights in the ceiling. There seem to be a lot of people wandering the mall on the weekends, possibly taking advantage of the air conditioning. In the summer this can be a big deal, as most people and other small stores don’t have air conditioning.

Inside the Punta Carettas mall looking down from the third floor.

The mall has a movie theater. Matinee price is about $6US and regular price is about $8. It looked like all the movies were in spanish so that might be a good adventure for the future.

There are many lots of little stands selling a variety of goods including: phones, hair bands, scarves, mate paraphernalia, jewelry, and trinkets. Most of the stores are fairly small and packed with merchandise. Many things are expensive. For example, a large paperback book can cost more than $20US. Again, the more expensive things are those that are imported.

There is a very large supermarket in the mall which has a wonderful produce section where we found our cilantro and dill. In most independent stores, including the supermarket at the mall, people are required to deposit their bags into a locker before going into the store. Stores have lockers with keys set up at the entrances just for this purpose. People are allowed to take purses with them into the store, but not backpacks or shopping bags. A security guard usually observes. I guess this is one of the measures put into place to deter petty theft.

When in Uruguay, Drink Maté

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When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

When in Uruguay, do as the Uruguayans do… drink maté.

Maté is everywhere. It is similar to green tea. The taste is different, and takes a little getting used to, but it’s the same concept. Hot water with some amount of leaves or ground up foliage and a way to drink it without eating the foliage.

I’m a huge fan of green tea and maté is a readily available drink close to green tea in Uruguay.

I didn’t want to drink maté out of a regular glass or cup. I wanted to drink it like Uruguayans do. To do that, it requires the correct items and not one of the collectors glasses that we have from a whisky box set.

The different parts of a complete maté setup are:

Yerba maté, the tea

Maté gourd with yerba maté in it

Maté gourd (called maté)

Maté gourd and bombilla

Bombilla, the metal straw that looks like a spoon on one end with holes in it to act as a filter of the maté.

My shiny new bombilla

Thermos, to carry the hot water around since immediate access to hot water is very important.

Maté thermos

A maté gourd and thermos for all day yerba maté satisfaction

Matera, a leather satchel to carry everything around in.

Matera is used to carry a thermos, maté gourd, and yerba mate

Some people carry a matera around with them, but most people tuck their thermos under an arm and carry their gourd in the same hand of the arm with a thermos, leaving one hand free to do tasks.

Whenever we are outside, at least 1/4th of the people we see have a thermos tucked under one arm, while using the hand of that same arm to hold their maté gourd, full of yerba maté, hot water, and a bombilla.

 

And now, some maté information!

Appropriate times to drink maté: all day. Seriously, there is never a bad time to drink maté. You’re not cool if you’re not carrying around a thermos and maté.

Appropriate places to drink maté at: Everywhere!

I saw a guy struggling with 5 full grocery bags on one arm leaving a store, thermos and maté occupying the other while trying to take a sip without spilling or dropping anything.There is no way this guy would ever commit a party foul and spill a beer in hand, even if he fell down a flight of stairs. Hopefully he doesn’t fall down a flight of stairs though.

The most common places I see people with maté are:

  • The beach, even if it’s 100 degrees out, people are enjoying their super hot maté.
  • The bus, if you sit next to someone with maté on the bus and strike up a conversation, you might just get some maté.
  • La Rambla, the numbers increase of people drinkin maté at the La Rambla (street and large sidewalk next to the ocean/river). Seriously, it often gets close to 1 out of every 2 people have maté in hand around 7-8pm. The ones without maté are running or young children.
  • Walking on the streets, it seems important to never lose an opportunity to drink maté.

In case you are out and run out of hot water, you can refill your thermos with the correct temperature water at many gas stations, restaurants, bars, and more.

We have a maté dispenser on the kitchen wall in our house.

Push the gourd into the pole at the bottom and maté falls into the cup.

With all this maté going around, I’ve wanted to buy a maté gourd, bombilla, and thermos since I’ve been down here.

When in Uruguay, do as the Uruguayans do and drink maté!

This past Sunday, we went to the local market at Parque Rodo and I saw some maté gourds that I liked. After walking around to see what the market was about, I stopped and started talking to a very nice lady that was selling maté gourds and bombillas. She didn’t speak english except for a few words such as horse, english, and United States, and I felt pretty comfortable understanding and talking with her about the maté gourds.

Matt buying Maté

Buying a maté gourd and bombilla at the Parque Rodó market

About 10 minutes later, I walked away with my very own maté gourd and bombilla at a good price.

There were different sizes, different designs, and even gourds that were ceramic on the inside, but I chose to buy the traditional maté gourd with a logo of Uruguay on it. I’m sure only tourists have Uruguay on their maté gourd, but I liked it and figured people can pick out that I’m a tourist pretty quickly.

Preparing the Gourd

I was told that I needed to put cold water and maté in the gourd for 2 days to let it soak in and then lightly scrape the inside to remove the loose part of the gourd. This is supposed to take the bitterness out of the gourd. Everywhere online said to use hot water so I followed her directions and then the hot water directions.

So, here is my maté gourd and bombilla. I’ll buy a thermos and take my maté on adventures when I am more conversational in spanish. For now, I’m content with just drinking maté in our house.

Matt's maté gourd and bombilla

 

Featured image credits here.

Flea Market in the Park

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Every Sunday there is a huge flea market in Parque Rodo from 10 am to 3 pm. There are more than a hundred stalls where vendors sell everything. I do mean everything. There were the standard knick-knacks, but there were also clothes, underwear, shoes, art, frames, incense, spices, plants, video games, lamp shades, jewelry, and flowers for sale. All the vendors set up right next to each other and formed aisles the width of about three people. It seemed that vendors got together to drape tarps over their stands and the aisles, maybe in case it rained. Matt bought a maté gourd and bombilla (look for details in a future post)!

We finally met Maria’s daughter (Maria is our neighbor). She was selling stuff at the market and called out to us to say hello, asking if we lived on Gaboto street. It was nice to finally meet her.

There wasn’t any food at this market except for the “carritos”, or food trucks which had lines upwards of 20 people deep. They sell hamburgers, sausages, and hot dogs along with drinks (More about carritos in another post). Men walk around with carts yelling “helados”, obviously to great effect because every time I hear them I really want some ice cream!

There were lots of people walking around the park and sitting in the grass enjoying their maté.

There were paddle boats for rent at the little lake in the center of the park and a sign saying “Biblioteca” (translated as library) pointed toward a building that looked like a long-defunct castle.

There is also a nice little fountain with benches in the middle of the park that is well worth some future lounging.

The Oven: It Works!

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Saying that I have been a little scared of using the oven here might be an understatement. It’s a gas oven, the likes of which I haven’t dealt with in the last 8 years. It’s also about half the size of any oven I’ve ever dealt with. The biggest “scary factor” about this oven is that the posted temperatures are all in degrees Celsius with the lowest temperature equating to about 400 degrees Fahrenheit. This was all very confusing to me, but this weekend I overcame my fears in the name of cookies!

Some things about cookie making in Montevideo…

1. There is no brown sugar. It just doesn’t exist.

2. There are no chocolate chips. They just don’t exist.

3. Baking powder comes in a baggie… luckily with big red lettering or someone would think we had a lot of drugs in the house. In fact all spices come in little baggies unless you want to pay twice as much and buy McCormick’s.

Some things about cookie making in The Little House…

1. We don’t have a mixing bowl. I used a pot.

2. We don’t have a cookie sheet. I think I used something made for pizza dough.

3. We don’t have measuring cups or spoons. I used a drinking cup and a regular spoon.

4. The posted oven temperatures don’t seem to match their actual temperatures.

So, how did I accomplish this obviously arduous task? Well, I collected all the ingredients from the store including a very large Hershey’s dark chocolate bar. It was just as good as chocolate chips once I broke it all up into little pieces.

Everything got mixed and put onto our pizza tray and into the oven it went. I set the oven to the lowest temperature setting hoping that I wouldn’t burn the crap out of my cookies.

The first batch took forever to cook. The second batch I got tired and lazy so I didn’t even try to make individual cookies. I just spread the dough out in the pan and made one huge cookie. I also turned the oven up thinking that somewhere in the middle was probably a good cooking temperature. It makes me wonder if my temp conversions were wrong (I did check twice), the gas just doesn’t heat up all the way, or if someone had a good laugh putting the wrong temps on the knob.

The cookies turned out great!

I also repeated the baking experiment a couple days later by making an apple crisp which turned out delicious.

This is not the cream you’re looking for…

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Randi and I voted that it was Matt’s turn to cook, and being the great guy that he is, he obliged. He set to work making salads, raviolis and a cream sauce. Now, cream sauces make Matt very nervous. He has vivid memories of his sister fretting over white sauces at home because of their tendency to break. So, he looked up a recipe online assembled the necessary ingredients and set to work, carefully following every instruction.

I was blissfully listening to the sounds of dinner preparation from my lethargic position on the couch, when Matt came a little sullenly  into the room to ask how to fix a broken sauce. I had made several white sauces since we got down here so I was a little surprised, but I had only made them with milk and Matt had decided to use cream, which could account for different behavior. We determined that the best course of action was to add more cream and stir, after which, I followed Matt back into kitchen.

The cream he was using came in a box roughly the size and shape of the juice boxes one would relish as a child during recess. The milk and yogurt drinks here come in bags so why wouldn’t the cream come in a box. As Matt began to add more cream to the sauce, I noticed, with some amount of trepidation, that it was coming out in clumps as he was really working to squeeze it out. He assured me that this was how it all came out. Now, many things are different here, but chunky cream drew some suspicion. I sampled this with my finger and found that the cream he was using was actually whipped cream.

Upon closer inspection of the box, one side said cream while the other had the clarifying subtitle of whipped, all in Spanish of course. Now to be fair the box did have a picture of whipped cream with strawberries and mint leaves but we’ll chalk that up to assuming that it was a picture of something one might make with the contents of the box. After all, cereal boxes often show a bowl with milk, and even on occasion orange juice, on it but most of that doesn’t come in the box.

I suggested that we just add some milk (from a bag) and I stirred continuously for about 5 minutes to fix the broken sauce, while Matt finished prepping the rest of dinner. Everything came together quite nicely and the sauce, whipped cream and all, was delicious.

Matt whipped up a great dinner.

Birthday Party!!

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Carlos turned 22 and had a big celebration yesterday! Happy Birthday Buddy!

It is fairly common here to be able to rent out a space with some kind of kitchen facilities for parties or meetings. This is what the board gaming group does and what I assume Carlos’ family did last night.

We had our directions; the corner of Blvd. something Artigas and Colorado… Go past the fields and ask for Glorieta. So we walked down the street to catch the bus. We managed to get off a couple stops too early, but I guess that’s better than too late. We walked, we saw the fields, we saw a gate, we saw the guy in camo gear guarding the gate, and we kept walking. We got to the corner of Blvd. something Artigas and Colorado and knew we missed something. We called Carlos. He sent his brother Juanma and friend Ale to come and collect us.

Apparently we were suppose to stop at the gate and ask the camo guy about Glorieta. Turns out Glorieta is NOT a person. It’s the name of the little building where the party was. Go figure!

The party was great. I imagine there were about 40 people including friends and family. There were lots of snacks, along with beer and coke (both staples in Uruguayan dining). Some of the snacks we hadn’t seen before… Faína, which is a garbanzo flatbread that is sometimes placed atop pizza (called pizza al caballo). Maní, which are peanuts, but these had some kind of hard salty outer coating on them which reminded me of a corn nut.

When the majority of people arrived (probably around 10:30 pm) Carlos started the karaoke singing. It was very apparent that this might just be his favorite thing to do other than play ultimate, but unfortunately I haven’t gotten any good pictures of him doing either. I must say that karaoke in spanish was much more enjoyable in english, but that could have been the beer talking!

Matt and Juanma singing "We are the Champions" by Queen... Reminiscing about their recent win at a beach tournament in Monte Hermoso.

Juanma and some of the other frisbee boys enjoying themselves.

In the middle of karaoke there were hamburgers served. Then there were games. I guess the TV show “Minute to Win it” has gained some popularity here, so we played a variety of minute to win it games. These included: stacking bolts into a tower using a skewer, balancing a tower of 5 apples, bouncing a spoon into a cup, and moving  a cookie from your eye to your mouth without any hands. Asa and Matt both succeeded in making bolt towers and I dropped my cookie on the floor.

Asa and Carlos playing a "Minute to Win it" game.

Maru trying to out-balance her opponent in another "Minute to Win it" game.

We were taught (sort of) how to play Truco, an uruguayan card game. It uses a special deck of cards numbered 1-12 and may be one of the few fun purchases we make while we’re here. That is if we can actually figure out how to play.

We were just getting ready to leave when Carlos informed us that there was dessert. We sung happy birthday and ate delicious moosey cake with dulce de leche (sort of like caramel). Special thanks to Carlos and his family for organizing everything and creating a lovely evening for everyone.

Getting Lost in Uruguay Twice to Play Ultimate Frisbee

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When you’re trying to go somewhere, getting lost sucks. It’s no fun. Especially when it’s twice in one night

I decided to play Ultimate Frisbee with the local team here. They are a great group of guys/girls and I was trying to get in some more practice before the hat tournament in Monte Hermoso, Argentina. Asa and Randi had other things they wanted to catch up on so they didn’t go.

We bought cell phones and sim cards at a local store so left to buy those around 4pm and I planned on making the short walk from the cell phone store to the bus stop and ride from there.

Because we were leaving from a new location, I didn’t plan on getting on the same bus we rode to the last time we went to practice. I scribbled some notes on paper and knew I had to take bus 582 to Peñarol (about an hour away). I wrote down a few different streets that I needed to get off at and figured when I saw the streets that I wrote down, I would get off the bus.

That plan sounds like it should work. Ride the bus. Get off when I see the streets that I wrote down. It also should take about 50 minutes so I can time the ride and at least get off in the area of the practice field.

Simple enough, right?

Well, there’s only one way to find out. Off I go. Asa and Randi made sure to wish me luck as I rode the bus to practice on my own for the first time.

THE BUS RIDE TO ULTIMATE FRISBEE

The bus ride was pretty uneventful. I was observing what we passed by and what was going on around me. At about 30 minutes on the ride, I started looking around at the different streets as we left the main city, Montevideo. The bus was still frequently stopping every few streets and turning here and there.

At around 40 minutes, I started seeing less streets and figured I was getting near. The bus was still occasionally stopping, but I noticed a trend of where it was stopping. A trend I didn’t want to see.

As I was looking at the corners of the streets. Slowly, it became more and more of a reality. There weren’t any street signs anymore.

It’s alright though, I remembered the corner we got off at last time (this bus stops there), what the roads look like, and that the youth center where the field is at would pass me on the left.

The 45 minute mark was approaching and I thought I started recognizing the area so I was prepared to get off when I saw the major road next to the bus stop that I wanted to get off at.

After about 5 minutes of not seeing where I needed to be, I noticed it was actually 10 minutes and I had been on the bus for 55 minutes. Hmm… Weird. I didn’t see the stop.

Although I hate asking for directions (not sure why, I guess it’s a man thing), I decieded to ask someone where the center is and where I need to get off. I figured giving up shame and asking for directions in a foreign country, where I had no clue where I was could be important to me returning home.

Just as I started to figure out how to ask about the place I was going, the bus driver gets to a stop. It wasn’t a normal stop though, he did something different this time.

Instead of just stopping with the foot brake, he reached down and slowly flipped a big black lever which was probably a gear box or air brakes or something. At about the same time, he said, “El fin” which means The End.

The End?!

Ohh crap!

What do I do now?!

Well, I couldn’t remember exactly how to pronounce the place, but I asked the bus driver in spanish, “donde está el Juvenil Salesiano?”

The bus driver didn’t understand me.

He asked where I was trying to go in spanish so I repeated myself.

Then he rambled off a few sentences with another question I didn’t understand. I told him that I didn’t understand spanish well and didn’t understand what he said.

Then he said it more simply, “A donde vas?” Which means, Where are you going?

Then I gave him the street I wanted to go, Avenida Sayago, and added to the Juvenil Salesiano.

His demeanor changed as he spoke more slowly with more confidence that he knew where I wanted to go. I could understand a lot of what he said this time.

He told me to walk in a direction he pointed with his hand, straight for many blocks, then take a right at the big street, which would intersect with Sayago, a block from the field.

Perfect! I said thanks and went on my way.

There weren’t any sidewalks in this part of town. There were dirt paths next to the road which were formed from enough people trudged next to the road.

While observing everything around me, I finally found out where the horses go! Something I had been questioning since I arrived here.

There were a few horses tied up in a yard at a few houses with carts near them. Throughout the day, there are a couple groups of people who ride a horse and carriage around going from dumpster to dumpster picking out what people threw away and keeping what they want and can sell. There will be a post later on this when we can get a good picture. I just always wondered where the horses stayed at.

For now, he’s a picture of a horse with trash carriage at the youth center where we play Ultimate.

Working Horse that picks up trash

…okay, back to me being lost.

About 10 minutes into walking, I was getting worried again and I saw a small shop on the corner of a street with someone working inside of it. In spanish, I asked the elder gentleman where the youth center was and that I was looking for Avenida Sayago.

He didn’t understand it at first, so I said it again, focusing on the youth center – Juvenil Salesiano. I think I actually said, “Salesano Juvenil”

I didn’t remember the exact pronunciation or spelling so I did my best. The elder man corrected me with, “Centro Juvenil Salesiano?” I told him that’s it!

He proceeded to tell me that I am about 8-10 blocks away and that the blocks were very long blocks. He told me to go straight for many blocks and I’ll run into Sayago. But, right before I left after thanking him, he corrected himself and started to say go straight, but follow the road the to right when it turns.

So I did that. I started walking again. After 10 blocks, I realized I wasn’t at the street and hadn’t passed it yet, but I saw a stop light two blocks ahead of me. Once I reached the stop light, I realized it was the big street that most of the buses take and the street I was looking for, Avenida Sayago, crossed it. I suddently felt a slight chill of relief as I vaguely knew where I was and figured worse case scenario, I get a taxi back home. On the previous streets, I didn’t see any taxis.

This led to my next decision, Left or Right? Which way do I walk?

I had no clue if I was North of South of the place. I looked around, didn’t notice anything. I looked up to find the North Star and was blinded by the Sun for a few seconds… So much for that idea…

After I regained my vision, I decided right was the smart choice. I didn’t think the bus went north of where I wanted to go, so I started heading to the right. After walking for about 10 minutes with many buses passing me, people driving around, and others walking, I saw a small shop on a corner. I headed straight there to ask a lady where el Centro Juvenil Salesiano was in spanish.

She knew exactly what I was talking about! Looks like I improved since asking the last person for directions!

She started counting and mentioned many blocks. She pointed up the street in the direction I was going and said, “Dericho, dericho dericho! Muchas Cuadras.” Which means straight, straight, straight, many blocks. I asked her for an approximate guess and she guessed,twenty or thirty.

Wow! I went from 8-10 blocks at the second guy to 30 blocks. I’m guessing the bus driver had no clue and thought I meant somewhere else.

So, I thanked her and went on my way.

She was right. It was about 25 blocks and I arrived at where I thought.

No worries, it’s just the gringo arriving a little late.

Everyone was still throwing and about to start playing. I made it in time.

I didn’t know how to say that I got lost in spanish so I walked straight to the guys who understand some english and laughed while I told them I got lost and just walked for about 30 minutes after missing my bus stop.

They laughed, told the others, and it was funny.

Then we played Ultimate until it was too dark to keep playing.

The Long Journey Home

We started to set out on our ways. I didn’t want to try a new bus on the way back home so I waited for bus 145, which we took before. I knew I would recognize street signs and be able to get around just fine once I was in the city near our house.

Bus 145 shows, up, I take the bus with 4 other guys from playing and we walk to the back. It was fun talking with them. A couple understand a little english and could help me with understanding and talking. We talked about Ultimate Frisbee, who the best player is, favorite teams, etc.

As they get off at their stop, they ask if I know how to get home. I said yes since I did and they left.

Unfortunately, I thought I knew where I was going.

There’s a slight, but key difference there. Knowing where I was going and thinking that I knew where I was going are two different things. I expected the bus to keep going down a route, but at one stop, the bus driver flipped that large black level and said, “El Fin.”

Lost Again

Ohh Crap! Not again…

This time I was at least in some part of the city. There were buildings around, a ton of people, and a McDonalds. I couldn’t see anything that let me know where I was at so I started walking. I headed straight down a road that led to more people.

I debated getting on a taxi, which would have been simple and fast, but I would have had to pay for it and the night was beautiful. I decided to figure it out on my own and get more exercise in addition to playing Ultimate for three hours.

After about 15 minutes of walking, I found a sign that said La Rambla and pointed to the left with an arrow. Right when I saw that sign, I had a big feeling of relief as I could make it home. I wasn’t sure how long it would take, but I was going to make it.

La Rambla is a road that follows the coast line. Much like Pacific Coast Highway in California. I knew if I could make it there, I would eventually get back home. I’ll put the water on my left and start walking.

After about 5 minutes of walking, I saw something that I realized, Buceo. I knew it was pretty far away, but the temperature was perfect for shorts and a t-shirt, the sky was shining full of stars, and I finally felt relaxed knowing that I knew my way home.

There was a small gas station on my left and I decided to buy a coke to drink on the way home.

I noticed a couple in the mid-forties trying to take a picture of themselves so I offered them a hand, took a quick picture for them and went on my way. They both had big smiles on their faces and were enjoying the night.

I also passed a small outdoor skating rink that is near our house. A lot of people seem to hang out there with their children until very late at night.

Outdoor skating rink in Uruguay

Whether it’s talking to random strangers, talking to the cashier at the local grocery store, or navigating my way to and from places when I get lost in a language that I can barely speak, the more time that I spend in Montevideo pushing my fears, I seem to feel more comfortable in doing it again. I don’t plan on getting lost again though, but I feel more comfortable if I did.

Here is my route:

Bus ride out there: 1 hour

Walking to practice: 30 minutes

Bus ride home: 50 minutes

Walking home: 1.5 hours

Total travel time to play ultimate frisbee: about 3 hours, 50 minutes.

Getting Lost in Uruguay

Lessons Learned

1. Make sure you remember exactly where to get off of the bus.

2. Make sure you can pronounce where you are going correctly.

3. Make sure the bus number AND name are correct. Bus 145 can end up in different places depending on it’s name.

4. Always be prepared to laugh at the situation. If I had my Life’s a Flip Flop shirt on, a picture would have been perfect!

Life Lesson Learned

At the beginning of the story, I said that getting lost sucks. I realized something else while walking for over an hour straight trying to find my way home.

Getting lost doesn’t always suck. It might not be fun, but it most always will lead to a time of growth. The real fun is realizing where you’re at and where the destination is, then taking the steps necesarry to get to the destination.

Board Game Night

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There is a board game group in Montevideo that meets once a month for an all-night game extravaganza (8 PM – 8 AM). People bring games, food, drinks, and fun.

We attended said extravaganza this weekend and had a blast. We were among some of the first people there (chalk that one up to not embracing the late night culture), despite the fact that we were fashionably late and walked around the neighborhood trying to find the address. Turns out the place was just above a group of men grilling over a fire in the street. The board game group rents out a space that looks like its made just for their purposes. There are numerous chairs and tables to set up board games on, a microwave to heat up food, and a fridge. The A/C doesn’t work so well, but at least there are bathrooms.

The first game we played was a card game with creeper zombies and random keeper objects like donuts. It’s one of those games that you only want to play every once in a while and by the end you remember why you haven’t played it lately. It took forever for someone to win.

While we battled it out with our zombies, there was a near-steady stream of people arriving (maybe a group every 20 min or so). By the time we finished with our zombie game the new arrivals had already started other games, so we started another game (Agricola) with the same group of people.

I had never played before and our Uruguayan friend explained all the rules of the game to me in english. So much for learning board game vocabulary. It seems like many of the games that people brought were the english versions, but that may have been because when our friend visited us in the states he bought an extra suitcase to fill with board games to take back to his friends.

A large group of people arrived around 12:30 with cupcakes decorated like the board game, Settlers of Catan. I ate some wheat.

We left shortly after their arrival, although it was clear that the party was really just getting started. Next month we’ll be prepared by bringing our own munchies, caffeinated beverages, and our own board games to share!

 

The “Ultimate” Opportunity!

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Part of every great adventure is meeting awesome new people and this adventure is no exception. As most of you probably already know, the three of us are very involved in the ultimate frisbee community in the United States. We have all played on top tier teams and participate in local leagues and activities. When we decided we were coming to Uruguay, one of the first questions we had was “Do they have an ultimate team?” None of us could imagine 6 months without the sport and community that we love. Luckily, Matt did some research and found the Uruguay national team (the one and only team) and found Carlos.

Carlos heard of ultimate frisbee 3 years ago and has built a team of about 30 people that compete in 1 or 2 tournaments each year and even put on their own hats tournament last year. Carlos has negotiated field space for the Ultimate team to practice on three times a week and organizes community events to teach children how to play ultimate. He even has a small supply of fliers (with him at all times) describing the 10 steps to playing ultimate that he can give to people that are interested. Everyone that we have met on the team has been so welcoming and helpful.

Carlos has picked us up at our house and taken us to practice, which is good because we probably would never have figured out how to take the bus on our own. Carlos and his brother also helped Matt organize his weekend trip to a beach ultimate tournament in Argentina. Everyone has been awesome in suggesting things to do in the city and describing things about the city that would never have occurred to us. Just like any other ultimate community that we have been a part of, I have no doubt that the team will quickly become a home away from home and we’d like to help them in any way that we can!

We are starting to help them achieve their goal of becoming a competitive team (they’ve never won a game as a team) by teaching them as much as we can and helping lead practices. We have already seen improvement in the couple weeks we’ve been here.

Unfortunately they don’t have all the opportunities that a team from the U.S. might have. There are no local (i.e. anywhere in the country) ultimate frisbee companies that can provide discs or jerseys for this team. Uruguay, as a country, does a great job promoting local goods by requiring an enormous import tax on anything being shipped into the country. These import taxes can be up to 60% of the value of the goods. Because of this, getting ultimate related equipment or apparel is prohibitively expensive for the team.

We have arranged a generous donation of discs from the ADFC, Atlanta Flying Disc Club, to be shipped to the team. These will no doubt help the team in their practicing and community activities, as the discs that most of the players currently have are so scratched up they shouldn’t be played with.

Despite the donation of discs, the team still does not have jerseys. As with any sport, looking and feeling like a team is vital to the teams’ success. We would like to help the Uruguayan team look, feel, and play like a team by helping them get some jerseys. We’re doing our best from here, but we need your help. Please visit our Uruguyan Ultimate Jersey Fundraising page. Click the link or find it at the top right of our blog.

Let’s help support our ultimate communities across the world!

The Cellular Adventure

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We all have working cell phones!

None of us were sure that we wanted cell phones while we were here. We spent many a night back in Atlanta joking about buying “burner cell phones” that we could burn when we were done with them, just like some kind of James Bond movie. We talked to a bunch of people. Okay, mostly frisbee people, that told us about all the options for cell phones here in Montevideo. In the end, and for the price, we decided it would be silly not to have them.

Some info about cell phones here…

Everyone has one. And most people have the expensive fancy ones. There aren’t a whole lot of IPhones wandering around because of the import taxes but there sure are some close copies. Most of the small cell phone stands and electronics stores only advertise their most expensive wares (some things don’t change regardless of where you are in the world).

A lot of people have pre-paid plans. These aren’t as common in the U.S. but it seems like it’s the way to go here. Each month you pay between 10 and 500 pesos which gets you minutes. Depending on your plan, each minute you talk can cost from 4-10 pesos. In addition to the minutes you pay for up front, you also get 1000 minutes to call three free lines. You can call 1 other cell phone for free, you can text 1 other cell phone for free, and you can call 1 land line for free. When it comes time to re-charge your phone you can just walk down the street to the Abitab (they are everywhere and can do lots more than just re-charge phones) and give them your number.

So we went out in search of cell phones last weekend, only to realize that stores are only open from 10 am to 1 pm on saturdays and it was almost 5 pm. We tried again on tuesday. We got to the store and of course it was closed for lunch, but just our luck Matt had wandered a bit in that area trying to get to a bus stop and saw another cell store.

The security guard opened the door (it seems that most stores have security guards at the doors) and we went straight to the counter and told the lady that we wanted the cheapest cell phone they had and a pre-paid plan, and oh by the way, that we didn’t speak spanish very well. That sealed the deal. She was very nice, spoke no english, and kept asking us if we understood what she was saying. We had all prepared a bit for this adventure (Asa more than Matt or I) by translating the majority of the cell companies’ website and knew most of the key words we would need for the interaction. We understood her pretty well, or at least didn’t have any major miscommunications.

So Asa and I both got the same, cheap $30US phone which we are still figuring out how to distinguish from each other. We got SIM cards to put in them which came with a 300 peso pre-paid plan. Matt had his iPhone which he jail broke and just got a new SIM card to put in it with a pre-paid plan.

So Asa and I can call each other for free, we can both text Matt for free, Matt can text me for free and call Asa for free, and we can all call the phone at The Little House for free. We’ve got a nice little free cell triangle going on!