Neste domingo os americanos da turma de MBA do Dú organizaram um Thanksgiving e convidaram todos os colegas e agregados.

Cada um deveria levar um prato, de preferência uma comida típica do seu país. Dessa forma, além de celebrarmos essa data tão importante da cultura americana, também teríamos a oportunidade de experimentar pratos dos mais diversos países do mundo.

E não deu outra, era comida que não acabava mais. Pena que não dá para descrevermos cada um dos pratos. Eram muitos e muito diferentes.

Comemos um pouco de tudo e tudo estava delicioso.

Nós levamos feijão tropeiro e brigadeiro. O feijão não fez muito sucesso, já o brigadeiro… até pediram receita…

I cant seem to make my mind up about the weather these days. The rainy season this year was quite pathetic. I can’t remember even a handful of days with the torrential downpours which are characteristic Guate between June and October. This dry spout made things quite hot and steamy in the country, not to mention what it did to the poor agro workers. But it has been wanting to rain. You can feel it hanging in the air. Your clothes become damp and uncomfortably stick to you back. Anyway, I have been whining about the weather, that its too hot, that I want the winter to come so I can use my sweaters again.

Last week I sorta got my wish. It started raining, and there were rumors of global warming pushing back the raining season until November and that this was just the start. (Lies… I looked on the map and saw it was spin off from Hurricane Ida.) Now she’s died down a bit and its hot again. But for a few sweet days it was actually cold. One night I was miserably cold and wondered what I had been thinking. The cold brought on a new predicament for me: I can’t sleep without my industrial-strength fan. We live in a big city, so I need the fan to put me to sleep, and to drown out the noises of the cars passing at night, and the 3am deliveries at the gas station next door. So…the first night of cold — which required long pants, three layers of shirts, and an extra blanket to take the chill off — I unsuccessfully attempted to sleep without my fan. After two hours of tossing and turning and unable to ignore the speeding trucks, or the clanks over at the gas station, I ventured out of my covers into the crisp apartment to turn the fan on. I had to put the space heater on for an hour or so just to bring my body temperature back to 98.6ºF.

The next night was chilly but not as cold, and those following have started climbing back into the uncomfortably warm temperatures, where I barely can use a sheet.

So…I’ve bored you with discussions on the weather…but it’s all going to tie together now. November 1st, All Saints Day in Guatemala, was a perfect fall day by my standards. In the morning it was quite brisk, sweater worthy, but the sun was out and the sky was so blue it hurt your eyes. It was a very pleasant temperature. I was pleased to finally break out my sweaters for the first time of the year. I wore one that Hec refers to as my Grandma Sweater, which doesn’t deter me from wearing it because it is warm, fuzzy, and in my opinion cute. And on this fall-like day (which are rather few in Guate, so a rare treasure) we drove an hour and some west of the city, just far enough to reach the rolling hills, but not too far of a drive to make it tiring. The destination? The town of Sumpango.

On November 1st this tiny pueblo holds a famous a giant kite festival. People in this community spend months and thousands of dollars in materials and man labor building beautifully decorated kites more than 10 meters wide. The frame is constructed of giant bamboo branches thicker than my arm, and the face is made of colorful tissue paper. Each kite has its own theme, sometimes religious, somethings social criticizms, sometimes just really pretty.

We departed from our apartment around 7am and arrived a little after 8. The traffic was light on the highways, but even at this early time the parking space in the town was filling up rapidly. We parked in a basketball court, watching the attendants instructing cars to double park…we knew leaving might be a little difficult come the afternoon. But oh well…

We wandered around looking for giant kites soaring in the sky to guide us to the activities, but it was too early. We followed the crowds of people until we arrived at the cemetery. Indigenous families, ladino families, and tourists packed into the small cemetery. Families were painting the graves, sculpting mounds of dirt where there lacked a stone, carefully arranged flowers, and burned incense as they prayed. It was a spectacular sight.

Further into the village the streets were lined with vendors selling handicrafts, kites, and food.

Finally we arrived to the soccer field where teams were assembling their kites. While they had spent months working on the face, they would carry the materials to the camp and put it together on the morning. Watching the teams tie together the gargantuan branches, and then at the end hoisting the giant disk up for display, was quite an attraction. In a nearby field families were camped out, having bbqs, and flying their kites.

We only stayed to watch the first round of flying due to the intense heat of the unexpected afternoon sun. While they were the children’s kites, they were still larger than anything I’d seen in the US: on average they were 2 meters wide! It was quite a spectacle watching the kites soar, and sometimes dive into the crowds below.

Before we left, you better believe it, we had some yummy food. Abodado asado (grilled marinated steak) with beans, rice, and blue corn toritllas. These tortillas can’t be beat. I’m not crazy about meat, but this was spectacular…even if it made me a little sick the next day.

Eu disse que faria um almoço especial mas e a dúvida quanto ao que fazer? Fiquei um dia viajando em muitos sites, vendo vídeos de receitas, livros etc. Vocês podem até achar um exagero mas eu levo mesmo a sério essa coisa de cozinhar.  Pois depois que eu descobri do que eu era capaz de fazer, essa fase da pesquisa, da interpretação da receita e dos ingredientes, tornaram-se uma espécie de terapia.

Tem gente que não vê a hora de chegar o final de semana para não precisar cozinhar, e sim comprar comida pronta, pedir pizza, sair para restaurantes. E eu sou o contrário, visto que de dia de semana não tenho tempo.

A receita escolhida foi a Moussaka. Uma receita grega em que os ingredientes principais são: beringela, carne e batata. Cada um é preparado da sua forma, e tudo é colocado em camadas em uma forma, juntamente com o molho bechamel e queijo. Vamos lá:

Beringela: tirei a casca, cortei em fatias finas e as deixei de molho por duas horas na água e sal, depois as grelhei no azeite.

Carne: usei carne moída (Patinho) refogada no azeite, cebola e alho e depois cozida junto ao molho de tomate pronto.

Molho Bechamel: é o molho branco aromatizado. Eu usei cebola, alecrim e pimenta.

Batata: cortada em rodelas, alguns optam por fritar, eu preferi cozidas.

Após cada ingrediente pronto é hora de montar o prato. Primeiro a beringela forrando a forma, na sequência o molho bechamel e o molho com a carne, depois as batatas, o queijo (usei mussarela), e mais um pouco dos molhos por cima só pra ficar bonitinho. Levei ao forno pré aquecido por 10 minutos, só pra derreter o queijo. E ficou essa delícia aí.

Quem fez: eu

Quem comeu: eu e namorado

Nível de flatulência: 4

Cuando mi acento me delata delante de los chilenos (lo que cada vez sucede menos), lo primero que me preguntan es si extraño a Colombia y qué es lo que más extraño. Después de todos estos años uno tiene ya casi aprendido el libreto: la familia, los amigos, la calidez humana y la climática, sobre todo esta última. Sin embargo, el otro día agregué un elemento a todo eso: la comida. En un principio no la echaba tanto de menos, porque lo novedoso siempre llama la atención y en Santiago se pueden comer sobre todo muchos y muy buenos mariscos y fanática como soy de todo bicho de mar, pues me sentía feliz. Pero cuando los mariscos, los asados y el vino dejaron de ser novedad y se transformaron en rutina (especialmente el asado y el vino), empecé a soñar con arepas para desayunar todos los días, buñuelos y un día anduve con unas ganas indecibles de un cholado.

Con la Ale, mi única amiga coterránea por estos lares, iniciamos el otro día una guerra en el twitter para ver quien le provocaba más nostalgia a la otra. Ella atacó con un “avena con pandebono” que me dejó deprimida, pero yo no lo hice mal y la dejé al borde del llanto con un “arepa e’ huevo”. Hasta la “colombiana” y el “chocorramo” salieron al baile. Al final declaramos la paz gastronómica por sanidad mental y el bien de nuestros estómagos y nos conformamos con ir al café “Juan Valdez”, único repositorio de café verdadero en esta ciudad, porque lo otro, eso que tengo que tomar todos los días como desayuno en mi oficina, no es más que colorante para el agua caliente.

Otra cosa son las frutas: en el supermercado los reponedores de la verdura y la fruta me miran como a una demente, o lisa y llanamente se burlan, porque soy la única pava que rebusca entre las badejas de mangos uno que no esté tan colorado, porque conseguirlo totalmente biche equivale a soñar con ganarse la lotería.

Ahora bien, la literatura colombiana ha contribuido a exacerbar en el último tiempo mi nostalgia gastronómica. El otro día releí algunos libros y noté con preocupación que me concentraba excesivamente en las descripciones de platos, comidas y bebidas. Ahora ya no solamente extraño el olor de la guayaba, sino la guayaba misma, agria preferiblemente. Tiemblo al escribir la palabra “buñuelo”, quiero almorzar empanadas los domingos, juro que me arrepiento cada minuto que pasa por las cientos de veces que le dije “no” al jugo de lulo o de maracuyá. Después de haber probado (por obligación y diplomacia) los “porotos con rienda” chilenos (algo así como blanquillos con tallarines… no me pidan más explicaciones, por favor), cobraron sentido las palabras de mi abuela cuando me decía que algún día me iba a arrepentir de ser tan mala valluna y no comer sancocho.

No piensen que soy desagradecida, menos mañosa, pero los tamales que comí el otro día en el restaurante colombiano que hay en un bonito sector de acá de Santiago no eran precisamente los mejores y, claro, no tenían esa sazón de los que comía en Colombia. Desinflada porque, además, quería una “pony malta” y me anunciaron que llegué tarde porque prohibieron su importación, volví al libro que estaba leyendo y, con un masoquismo que aún me sorprende, paladeé cada sancocho, cada pandebono y cada fríjol que leí.

Intenté exorcizar esta creciente nostalgia gastronómica retirando por un rato de mi escritorio los Gabos, los Vallejos, los Gardeazábal y hasta a mi vecino de blog, a Héctor, lo anduve censurando (perdóname, Héctor) cuando leí que él tan alegremente encontró almojábanas en El Cairo, mientras yo mataría por un buñuelo en Santiago.

Para sopesar, compré una bolsa de café campesino en el Juan Valdez y comencé a darle otro sabor – y otro olor – a mis desayunos tomando café colombiano. A los pocos días, un buen amigo periodista que vive en Estados Unidos llamó mi atención en el chat enviándome un enlace a una página web. Como estaba algo atareada no me fijé qué me enviaba y pinché la dirección. Mi amigo quería recordarme que hace un par de años atrás yo publiqué en mi otro sitio, “ArcoLibris”, una crónica del maravilloso Alberto Salcedo Ramos, titulada “La manteca que nos une”. Un texto bellísimo que deja impresionados a todos quienes lo leen, pero cuando llegué a esa parte en que Alberto dice: “Entre todas las cosas que nos unen, nada tan sabroso como una fritanga que extiende ante nuestros ojos su variedad de colores y texturas“, no pude evitar cerrar la ventana.

Es posible que resulte más poético decir que me lloró el corazón, pero estaría mintiendo porque el que lloró en ese momento fue mi estómago.

En nuestro recorrido por la ciudad llegamos hasta Staromêtske Námestí en donde se encuentra la llamada ciudad vieja esta zona se ha convertido la más solicitada por los turistas y jóvenes de la ciudad. Aquí hay muchos restaurante, cafés y bares.

Entramos a un restaurante  que nos recomendaron. La comida  Checa es un poco condimentada nos dijeron que muy parecida a la Austriaca, basada en carne de res, pollo y principalmente de cerdo en diferentes salsa o asadas. También tiene un platillo que probamos que se llama Knedlíkywww.czech.cz/es/cultura…/knedliky-de-pan?…  que son albóndigas hechas a base de pan o papas y esto se puede acompañar con Choucroute que es Col fermentada,esto como platos fuertes, para empezar tienen sopas o embutidos como hígado de bacalao,huevos rellenos o lengua. Lo que realmente no  nos gusto mucho fueron las ensaladas. Cuando uno viaja es importante darse la oportunidad de probar nuevos sabores o platillos.

Durante la cena también probamos la cervezawww.radio.cz/es/articulo/34991  y un licor a base de hierbas amarillas un poco amargo llamado Becherovka,realmente muy rico!!! Para terminar nuestra cena tomamos un rico café junto con un postre que son tortitas las cuales pueden ser rellenas de chocolates o frutas. En esta zona que es más turística los cafés y restaurantes se cierran mas tarde que en otros sitios.

Al llegar a nuestra habitación, nos sorprendió lo cómoda y agradable que estaba con todos los servicios ,dos amplias habitaciones,una con cama King size y la otra con dos camas matrimoniales ideal para nuestros hijoswww.guideprague.com/duo/praga-hotel-duo.php .          Dejamos nuestro equipaje, nos cambiamos de ropa ya que realmente estaba muy fresco el clima e hicimos un recorrido al resort antes de salir a dar una caminata por las calles cercanas al hotel, ya que aunque el hotel tiene cuatro estupendos restaurantes,quisimos cenar afuera.

El desarrollo realmente cumplió nuestras expectativas ya que cuenta con muy buenos servicios,como servicio a cuartos,salón de belleza,sauna,los cuatro restaurantes,renta de autos,sitio para mascotas,servicio medico,tienda etc. lo cual fue muy cómodo en nuestras vacaciones.

Fuimos a caminar a los alrededores ,para empezar a ambientarnos y empezar a tomar muchas fotos de esta ciudad tan elegante y con grandes edificios para poder visitar y conocer más a detalle. También es una ciudad de contrastes ya que sobresale también los mercados y tiendas de las más famosas marcas que han hecho de  Praga punto importante de el buen gusto y moda.www.destinosblog.com/255/praga/

Well…Halloween has come and gone, but I still have quite a few thoughts floating around in my head regarding the Guatemalan version of the holiday. Perhaps many of you have already thrown your beautifully carved Jack-O-Lanterns in with the compost. Or they have been nabbed by the neighborhood kids and smashed in another’s yard. And maybe you have painstakingly removed all the cotton cobwebs and spooky scare crows from the porches and windows and replaced them with wreathes, strings of lights, and candle sticks. Even here in Guatemala the Halloween decorations were stripped down by November 2nd, and yesterday afternoon the city crews strung garland letters of “JOY” and “NAVIDAD” across the main roadways, and positioned sleighs with reindeer in the grassy boulevards. Even my local grocery store rapidly strung lights from the rafters and placed artificial trees in the produce section complete with empty ribbon-trimmed boxes beneath. It’s always surprising how quickly the holiday season comes.

I think its quite a shame that immediately following Dia de Todo los Santos (All Saint’s Day), which is a fairly significant holiday in Guatemala, that every remembrance is swept away and immediately replaced with glitter, pine, and advertisements for holiday deals on the new trendy toy. All that is left from the holiday before are the shredded remains of tissue paper and balsa wood kites stranded up in trees and telephone wires; or if you frequently pass a cemetery on your daily commute it may appear particularly bright and colorful compared to the week before. Other than that, Guatemala, along with the rest of western civilization, is flooded with the sounds of rum pum pum pum, silver bells, and for some strange reason the awful. awful. awful. version of Last Christmas by Wham that seems to repeat every 50 minutes on all radio stations through out the world from November 1st until January 2nd. Its not clear to me why, however, because I know not one person who admits to liking it. But it sure is catchy. Just writing about it I’ve got it stuck in my head. Now look what I’ve done…

Anyway. I’ve got some lovely things to say about Dia de Todos los Santos here in Guatemala. First, this year Hec made his first ever Jack-o-Lantern. Isn’t it cute? He is named Ayotillo (little squash, in Spanish). Hec carved him a few weeks ago and we’ve enjoyed it’s warm glow in our apartment for quite some time. And of course we roasted the pumpkin seeds, seasoned with paprika salt and pepper.

This time of year also offers so delicacies that are not available any other time. One of these is a special pan dulce (sweet bread) that I really really enjoy. It is only offered in the months of October and part of November here in Guate. It’s called Pan de Muerto, literally “Bread of the Dead”. I haven’t researched it’s history, and perhaps that would have been rather interesting to talk about here, but honestly I’m more interested in how it looks, feels, and tastes. The loaves are large round mounds, criss-crossed with rope-like shapes, and topped with a knob-like ball of dough, and dusted off with powdered sugar. The texture is light and fluffy with sometimes very large air bubbles in the center, but when you dive in it is unexpectedly smooth and chewy. It is only slightly sweet with a strong eggy taste. I love it, and I buy it from San Martin, my favorite bakery in Guatemala. We bought one to share with my Suegros this year, and after that tease of a taste I needed more. But seeing that they are 30Q a pop, and being compelled by my fascination with discovering the secrets behind my favorite foods, I decided I would research the recipe and try to make it myself!

I’ll be honest right out. It did not turn out a thing like the Pan de Muerto from San Martin. It was a dense loaf (which is not necessarily bad, but not what I was aiming for here either), and it was rather flat-tasting. I will go ahead and post the recipe I used, which I’m guessing reflects more accuratly the Mexican Pan de Muerto than the Guatemalan, and I have made some adjustments in salt and sugar which I hope will correct for the bland taste I encountered. No promises here, though.

Even though I found the recipe to be quite a failure, I wanted to show my pictures of how the pan dulce of the “autumn” season looks because I think, if anything at all, this recipe was a visual success. Additionally I feel obligated to bring it to your attention in case you would find yourself in these parts around the season, or if you come across a Guatemalan bakery which by chance might serve this bread in October and November (I know there is one in Chicago).

This recipe made for loves the size of half a volley ball. And I was not crazy about it, so I used the loaves to make bread pudding with almonds and crystallized ginger (which turned out to be a huge success). However, for those of you looking for a new holiday tradition, who are adventurous in the kitchen and aren’t easily upset by less than perfect results, I hope my adjustments of sugar and salt serve you well and make it more palatable overall. But for the real thing, I would just recommend visiting me here in Guate some time in the fall and I’ll treat you to a loaf from San Martin!

Pan de Muerto, adapted from here.

Makes 2 loaves

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 tablespoons aniseed or 5 star anise
• 1/4 cup water
• 2 tablespoons yeast
• 1/2 cup warm water
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 6 eggs
• 1.5 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1 stick butter, melted
• 4 1/2 cups flour, plus flour for dusting work surface
• Vegetable oil for coating bowl
• 1/3 cup sugar for sprinkling

Directions:

• Steep the aniseed in 1/4 cup water for 10 minutes.
• In a large mixing bowl, stir together the yeast, warm water, and 1 tablespoon of the 3/4 cup sugar. Let sit until foamy, 10 minutes.
• Beat together 3 eggs and 3 egg yolks, reserving the 3 whites on the side for later.
• Add the beaten eggs and yolks, salt, the remaining sugar, aniseed with water, nutmeg, and melted butter. Stir well until evenly combined. By hand or with the beater of an electric mixer, mix in flour. Transfer to a lightly floured board or counter and knead the dough for 10 minutes, until the dough is smooth and slightly sticky. Place the dough in a large oil-coated bowl. Cover with a lightly moistened tea towel and let rise in a warm place until doubled, about 1 1/2 hours.
• Punch the dough down and turn out onto a floured counter. Pinch off about 2 cups of dough and set aside for decoration.
• Divide the remaining dough into 2 pieces and shape into round loaves and place both loaves on a greased baking sheet.
• Make and egg wash by beating together remaining egg whites with 1 tablespoon water. Divide remaining 2 cups dough into 6 pieces. With four of these pieces roll a snake-like shape. Gently pretty two of these pieces on each loaf making a large X which crossing at the top of the loaf and use the egg wash as a glue. With the remaining two pieces of dough, roll them into balls and place them on the top of each loaf where the snake-like pieces cross. Apparently this is supposed to appear as a skull and cross bones.
• Cover the assembled dough with a damp towel and set aside to rise until the loaves hold a fingerprint when pressed, about 50 minutes. Don’t throw away the egg wash yet!

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Brush the risen loaves with the egg wash and sprinkle with remaining 1/3 cup sugar. Bake until golden about 30 minutes. Cool on a rack

Part of the excitement of being in Guatemala is the ability to do things things that are forbidden in the U.S. While the numerous laws that we have are generally in place to protect individuals and the larger society as a whole, often they are aggravating obstacles and can even serve as barriers to positive human and cultural interaction.

After our time in Cobán, we traveled about an hour to the “Biotopo de Quetzal”. The biotope was a “cloud forest” with such densely moist air that plants can live high in the air without the need for soil. It is an interesting environment where strange speices of plants, animals, and insects live in harmony. It was really breathtaking.

We checked into a cheap little hostel nearby the nature reserve, and immediately took off for a hike. Despite the physical exertion we had expended the previous two days, we were ready for more nature-packed adventure. It was actually a quite relaxing stroll. We hiked a 4 kilometer loop, ascending 500 meters. We saw lizards; strange looking, brightly colored, spiking spiders; and colorful, twist, exotic looking plants. We chatted with a old Guatemalan version of a hippy, with long curly gray hair and beard, who served in the information booth and was excited to talk about the mystical nature surrounding us, as well as discuss the founder of the reserve who had been murdered during Guatemala’s brutal civil war.

It was a less intense, yet still tiring hike in the reserve, and when we got out we were ready for dinner. We exited the park back onto the main highway. The hippie dude recommended a restaurant located a good 5 kilometers down the road, and we weren’t about to walk it. At least not the way there. So we decided to do something I have always wanted to do, but have never been permitted due to strict (yet understandable) U.S. law: we hitch hiked. And it was incredible, I will tell you. The breeze felt amazing, the view was nothing you could get behind a glass window, and it felt so incredibly freeing. It was a pretty short ride, but when we jumped out of the bed of the truck I had electricity running through my veins. When we asked the kind gentlemen how much for his services, he told us not to bother and that we should just enjoy ourselves. How refreshing is that? We waved goodbye, and went to enjoy another delicious meal of Kakik. We were so full we ended up walking back int he pitch dark to our hostel, diving into the ditches whenever the 16-wheelers would whiz by. I slept heavy that night.

In the morning we rushed out of the hostel as quickly as we could, only having a cup of coffee and bananas on our way out. We were headed to El Salto de Chilascó, the tallest waterfall in Central America, but it was going to be a long journey and we wanted to get on our way. We took a bus 30-some kilometers from the hostel to the road entering the small pueblo of Chilascó. We waited at the entrance a good half hour until a pick-up truck make a turn towards the entrance and offered us a ride. We travled a bumpy 12-kilometer ride, lasting about 40 minutes, sharing the truck bed with 1500 eggs, hoping we wouldn’t hit any big bumps!

We were wished happy-hiking when dropped off at a tiny grass hut which served as the towns center for tourism. Don Clemantino, the president of the association of the department of tourism of Chilascó was so excited for visitors, and greeted us with big hugs and lots of information about the history of the town and the waterfall.

We were sent along our way with a tour guide, 11 year old Willie who looked about 8. He was quite the talker, discussing all the fruits and vegetables cultivated around his town as we passed them, including corn, potato, broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, squash, passion fruit, and probably many I am forgetting. He told us about the town, about his family, as well as humorous stories of past tourists who were not nearly as fast of hikers as we It was 3 kilometers through the village and surrounding coutryside until we arrived at the trail which descended to where we could view the waterfall. From there it was a 1-kilometer, nearly vertical drop, to the bottom. On the way there we wandered slowly, admiring the surrounding land, the streams, and the nature that we experienced. We stopped at a smaller waterfall which was so pure you could drink from it. There was a crudely-fashioned system to take water from this little falls down to a rest stop below, made from a two-liter soda bottle and some plastic tubing. Willie, the humanitarian he is, noticed some leaves had clogged the mouth of the device, and climbed up the falls to remove them.

A little further below, but farther than I had wanted being tired and all, we finally got to the destination. The falls were a breathtaking 130 meters high. So its not Niagara, but it felt like an accomplishment arriving. We rested a little while before heading back. We didn’t want to take too long so that we missed the last bus out of the town at 3pm, and be forced to sleep there for the night.

To arrive at the falls took 2 hours, but we made it back much faster. I was impressed with out timing. And when we finally arrived back to the little town we had a delicious hot lunch ready for us. We ate in a tiny little comedor (simple restaurant which is usually part of someones home), which I’m sure gets very little business. Willie had called ahead and ordered out meal for us ahead of time because it takes a little while to catch, kill, and prepare the chicken. People, this food was fresh. And boy were we hungry. I’m not a big meat-eater, but I enjoyed this chicken perhaps more than any chicken I’ve previously had. It was moist, tender, and flavorful, and served along with cooked veggies from the surrounding countryside, a salad, rice, and yellow-corn tortillas made in front of our own eyes. The woman even mills her own flour…the corn was hanging in the rafters, drying above our heads! I was impressed. We scarfed down the pollo asado (grilled chicken) and were so full and satisfied after such a long hike. We thanked Doña Tona, and headed home.

This was an exciting journey over all. When it was over I was exhausted, and my entire body was worn out…but it was a very rewarding feeling. I’m ready to go back to those parts, and can’t wait until I am sent on a trip to Las Verapaces with my work!

Existe em Timbó um Jardim Botânico cuidado pela Administração Pública. Não é um Parque qualquer. É Um parque com muito verde, muitas árvores, hortas comunitárias, enfim, um lugar para passar um domingo fazendo piquenique com a família e amigos. O jardim botânico fica em Timbó no começo do asfalto em direção à Rio dos Cedros, do lado esquerdo. Bem fácil de achar!

Casa Estilo Enxaimel no Parque do Jardim Botânico

E aos domingos é que abre o restaurante do Jardim Botânico com comida típica alemã. É Eisbein(Famoso joelho de porco que eu não como de jeito nenhum, mas tem quem goste), marreco recheado, Brühwurst (Salsichas brancas e vermelhas cozidas com repolho), Bisteca defumada grelhada(uma delícia), apfelstrudel, Saladas variadas, hackepeter, Picanha, costela, Avestruz, Linguiça Blumenau Assada(muito boa), entre arroz, spatzle, leitão assado entre outras comidas. Alguns pratos não são típicos, mas são inseridos para poder agradar a um público maior e manter o restaurante sempre cheio. Aliás, Chegue cedo, caso não faça reserva. Ele costuma estar cheio após ao meio dia e meio.

O Atendimento é bom e não esqueça de reservar espaço pras sobremesas que são inclusas no preço do Buffet (em torno de R$22,00 por pessoa) e é a parte mais gostosa desse restaurante(Eu não gosto de doces).

Reserve um tempo para andar antes, ou depois do almoço pelo parque que tem belas vistas, lagoas e uma vasta área verde. Se der, leve uma toalha e se estique sob o sol. Uma Delícia.

Bom Apetite e Devagar na sobremesa.

Ponte do Parque do Jardim Botânico em Timbó

Jin Jin Wok é um restaurante de comida asiática. No cardápio eles servem desde sushi (japa), yakissoba (chinês) a rolinhos tailandeses, que vêm com repolho, cenoura, champignon, macarrão transparente e cebolinha. É uma delícia. Variedades de saladas, macarrão e carnes, com o tempero asiático a base de shoyo.

No meu prato: sunomono, uramaki, bolinhos tailandeses, yakissoba, peixe e frango empanados e a batata frita fora do contexto hahaha.

Quem fez: Jin Jin Wok

Quem comeu: eu

Nível de flatulência: 3

o petisco mais famoso dos baianos, o acarajé, também está presente em Morro 

Vai o que meu rei? Acarajé, abará, um caldo de sururu ou camarão, uma feijoada ou só um coco gelado? Assim como em Salvador ou em qualquer outro lugar da Bahia, em Morro de São Paulo você poderá se deliciar com as comidas típicas da terra com todos os temperos e sabores que só a Bahia tem. Agora, se você não é chegado à apimentada gastronomia baiana, aqui na ilha tem todos os tipos de alimentação para todos os gostos e bolsos.
Não é só as praias em Morro de São Paulo e passeios as principais atrações da ilha. Assim como em todo Arquipélago, Morro oferece aos visitantes uma rede de restaurantes onde se pode desfrutar desde a culinária típica até pratos mais sofisticados, destacando os frutos do mar.
Morro de São Paulo tem à disposição dos visitantes diversas opções de alimentação nos restaurantes, bares e lanchonetes espalhados pelas praias e Vila (parte central).  A charmosa Vila concentra diversos restaurantes entre pizzarias, churrascarias, restaurantes especializados em massas, lanchonetes e outros. Na praia há também diversas opções de restaurantes localizados na beira da praia que possuem cardápio bem diversificado e são ótimas opções tanto de dia como à noite, seja para aproveitar o sol na beira da praia ou ainda para se divertir à noite. Alguns possuem, inclusive, música a vivo.
Existem refeições que com certeza irão satisfazer todos os estilos. Desde comida a quilo até pratos feitos que custam normalmente de R$ 8,00 a R$ 15,00 por pessoa dependendo do restaurante e do prato. Os restaurantes oferecem também comida à lá carte com variado cardápio de pratos com carnes, frango, peixes e frutos do mar. Há ainda pratos mais sofisticados com polvo, lagosta e filés onde se gasta um pouco mais, podendo chegar até R$ 50,00 uma refeição para uma pessoa.
Além dos restaurantes existem algumas lanchonetes com opções de sanduíches e lanches mais leve. Em qualquer um dos lugares você sairá satisfeito se depender do clima gostoso, que só Morro de São Paulo sabe oferecer.

The 15th of September is independence day in Guatemala and all of Central America actually. In 1821 they officially split from Spain. I was particularly thankful for the day because Héc got the entire week off! We took advantage of the time and went on an expedition to the highlands of Las Verapaces — the north central part of the country. I had never been to the region but had been yearning to go since the day I saw a photo of the gorgeous green rolling mountains with cascading waterfalls scattered about.

Left: the Cohobón river running past our hostel. Right: A cacao tree around the park, from where they make chocolate. Some locals were selling a crude, homemade chocolate using the cacao pods and sugar crushed together.
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The reason we had waited so long to make the trip was because its not an easy to place to reach. The roads in the past have been poorly maintained, the highways curve tightly around the mountains rather than cut through the base as in Colorado. Therefore, a trip that would perhaps take no more than two hours in the midwest takes an hard and bumpy four.

The first destination on our itinerary was Semuc Champey…or a hostel which lies just outside. Semuc Champey is a natural reserve with beautiful aqua-blue lagoons positioned on top of a “stone bridge”, as it is called. The bridge is a rock formation which makes a type of cap over the Cohobón river. It is truly a paradise….but to get there is quite a journey, as it is located in the middle of nowhere. You first must make the windy journey from the capital to Cobán, which lasts about 4 hours. The only problem is that, even if you purchase your seat a head of time, you will be among 20 or 25 people crammed into a 15 passenger van. Personal borders do not exist here. It didn’t seem to matter that we in the van were already uncomfortably full…if someone on the side of the road hailed us down we came a-screeching to a halt, the ayudante (the bus driver’s helper) would toss the new passenger’s baggage carelessly on the roof, then ask everyone to scoot over a bit more. At one point a poor old man had someone else’s grandma sitting on his lap and I half expected to be handed a stranger’s baby to hold for a time.

From Cobán you must take another 2 hour microbus to Lanquin. The bus is usually of the same variety as the previous, packed to the max; but it passes through some of the most gorgeous green country I’ve ever seen, so I completely forgot that my legs were numb. I won’t compare it to Ireland or Switzerland as I have heard do others, but only because I heard a Swiss girl drone on and on about how Switzerland is so much prettier than Guate. To me, it was absolutely breathtaking: rolling hills, strangely pointy mountains, everything covered in a lush-mossy green. The two hours passed in a flash as a gazed out the window…despite the little girl getting car sick just in front of us.

As the sun began to set we arrived in Lanquin, a little pueblo only 12 kilometers or so from Semuc, and where our hostel was located. We relaxed on a stoop outside a tienda and enjoyed a cold beer while waiting for our final transport to arrive. Within a half an hour we were whisked away to our hotel, in the middle of nowhere, and were safely in our little bungalow as the most fierce thunderstorm with a brilliant electric show began. We nestled into our rather hard beds and fell asleep to crashes of thunder and flashes of lightening.

The next day we awoke quite late, inhaled a very salty breakfast from the sparse menu our little rustic lodge offered, and then ventured into the jungle to explore some lagoons and hike some trails! The entrance to Seumuc was only 200 meters from our lodging, but once in the park we hiked an agonizing 1.2 kilometers nearly vertical. (You Amazing-Race trialthelon types are probably rolling your eyes at me…but this was basically rock climbing people. And that’s not my kind of sport!) The goal was the mirador (or viewpoint) where we got a glimpse of the mystical lagoons and rock bridge. Once we arrived at the top e rested for quite some time, relaxing in the shade, talking with Santiago- one of the many “rangers”, and gaining the courage to descend back down. It was slippery on the way up, and I imagined myself bouncing off the cliffs on the way down. It wasn’t as bad as in my mind, although I bit the dust (or mud, rather) a few times.

At the bottom again, we wandered to las pozas (lagoons) where we floated around, protected from the savage heat, for a few hours in the late afternoon. I could have spent an entire week just swimming in the pools…but unfortunately we aren’t children on a summer vacation, nor are we retired like someone I know. (Hint hint…you guys need to check this place out sometime next year!

The next day we visited Las Grutas de Lanquin–a large network of caves located just outside the town of Lanquin. We had to hike a shadeless kilometer to get to the entrance, but once there we spent an hour or so wandering around in the damp caverns, enjoying the shelter from the sun. From the caves we caught a bus back to the city of Cobán. We were exhausted from all the hiking and were looking forward to sleeping in a comfortable hotel, hopefully with cable TV, a luxury we don’t enjoy at home. It took us quite awhile to find such a place. I don’t know if I mentioned before, but Cobán is located in a particularly cloudy region of the country. The guides all say it is sunny for three weeks a year — in April — and the rest of the year a gloomy sheet of clouds sits over the city. We were lucky (or perhaps not) because it was very sunny and sometimes unbearably warm. It did provide for beautiful scenery. However…while walking around in the sunny afternoon, the sky opened up and began to pour down rain while the sun remained. How odd…

We finally found a Hotel within our budget: Monja Blanca. It was a beautiful yet strange place. The property was the traditional colonial style with the rooms along corridors surrounding beautiful courtyards filled with fruit trees and tropical plants. The rooms and hallways were lined with beautiful antique furniture, and little details such as a fresh glass pitcher of pure water in each room, took us back in time. But the joint was vacant. We rang the bell and waited so long we almost left before the doorman answered. He led us through one courtyard and into another. The sun was starting to set, and no lights were lit within the residence, and it was eerily silent. I have to admit that I was creeped out, but the doorman was very cheery, and led us to a cozy room with good ventilation, a clean hot shower, and cable TV The price was right, so we stayed. He didn’t ask us for a credit card, a name, nothing. He gave us the key and told us we could settle everything in the morning. Such trust you don’t often find these days.

We took a nap, showered, then went in search for K’akik, the meal Cobán is famous for. K’akik is a traditional Mayan recipe of chunto (wild turkey) in a bath of herbs, veggies, and toasted spices including tomato, chile guaque, cinnamon, cloves, mint, and cilantro. It is traditionally served with the simple, sweet corn tamales wrapped in banana leaves. It was a delicious and filling meal after a hard day of hiking and traveling. I have never made the dish, however I have posted the recipe below. It doesn’t seem too difficult, although it surely takes some time to let the bird stew to a tender texture.

Kakik. Also Cack-ik, Kac-Ik, Caquik. Serves 4-6.

Ingredients:
5 pound wild turkey (or a store bought chicken would work just fine)
One entire bulb of garlic
Two or three sticks of cinnamon
One pound of tomatillos
10 o 15 tomatoes
4 chiles guaques (or spicy dried peppers)
10 cloves
One bunch of cilantro
One bunch of mint
One bunch of green onions (just the greens)
Achiote y sal to taste (I’m not sure if this is easily available in the U.S. Try Mexican grocers, but its ok to skip. It gives the deep red color of the stew, but not much in terms of flavor)

Directions:
1. Place the turkey in a large pot and just cover with water, bring to a boil, then reduce to suimmer. Add the garlic, cinnamon, and cloves. Cook until the turkey is done.

2. Meanwhile, sautee the tomatoes, onions, tomatillos, and chiles. Once they are all tender, puree them. Pass them through a collendar to remove the chunks and leave only a smooth sauce. Add the achiote to some cold water to dissolve it, then add the the mixture.

3. Add the mixture to the cooking bird and simmer for some time on very low heat, until the bird is tender.

4. Traditionally served with rice or simple corn tamales, as well as cooked carrots, squash, potato, and corn on the cob.

Recipe roughly translated from here: http://www.quetzalnet.com/recetas/Cack-ik.html

O barreado é um prato típico do Paraná que eu e o namorado estávamos curiosos para experimentar. É basicamente feito de carne bovina e temperos diversos, que ficam lá cozinhando por mais de 20 horas em uma panela de barro.  Mr Walken, pai da Fern e a da Anne, nos concedeu essa maravilhosa experiência na sexta em que chegamos em Curitiba. Para comer o barreado nos deslocamos até Morretes, uma pequena cidade vizinha.

Eu gostei muito, o prato vem acompanhado de um monte de coisa como frutos do mar, banana frita, saladas, maionese, farinha e arroz. Sério, é muita comida, uma pratada de barreado e não precisa comer mais nada pelo resto do dia.

barreado

camarão frito

salada

Quem fez: Restaurante Madalozo

Quem comeu: eu, namorado, rafs, fern, anne, alanis e Mr. Walken

Nível de flatulência: 5

I dedicate this post to Ellen, my celiac-stricken friend.

I saw this recipe on Whole Life Nutrition and had to make it right away. It contains an ingredient that has quickly become a favorite since moving to Guatemala, and I find any excuse to add to my meals, salads, and now desserts! This ingredient I speak of is pepita, or pumpkin seeds. It was used in a way I had never seen it before…as a replacement for wheat flour. First of all, I have rarely seen the seeds used in the U.S., especially not in their powdered form (known as pepitoria in Guatemala, and used to season fruits, to make stews, and even prepared as a juice); and I certainly had never heard of it being used for baking in place of flour. Can you imagine my excitement?!

I love the nutty flavor of pepita, but besides that, they are very nutritious — packed with omega-3 fatty acids and protein. And although it is good for you it has a substantial amount of fat and calories, much more than your average flour. So as a flour replacement it is quite heavy. However, I decided to give this recipe a try because it contains pretty much all good stuff: pumpkin seeds, coconut milk in place of much of the oil, and honey in place of much of the sugar.

Because the recipe doesn’t have flour, arrowroot is added to allow the same binding process to occur. At least that is how I understood it. I could not find arrowroot anywhere in Guatemala, even after asking my agricultural engineer suegro who knows everything there is to know about things that come from the earth. I researched some replacements and found that cornstarch, which is much less nutritious, might work as an alternative. So I used that. I also skimped a little on the oil, but I’m not sure that was a good idea.

So how did it turn out? To be honest, something went wrong with this batch. I’m not sure if it was because I did not use arrowroot, or because I skimped on the oil, both, or perhaps I’m just not a knowledgeable baker. It could be any of those things. The first cake I baked overflowed…oops (When making a full batch of something I have to make two small cakes because I use a toaster oven). I just filled the pan a little too full. And it was also deflated looking. I attributed the deflation in the first batch to the spilling over, but I’m not sure that was correct, because the second batch deflated as well. Sad…

But, despite its appearance, it tastes great! I love the nutty-chocolate flavor, and the cake was very moist. After tasting a piece from the first over-flowed batch, I decided to add a bit more sugar. It was delicious, but not all that sweet for what I was anticipating.  The recipe below contains that adjustment, however keep total sugar/honey to 2/3 a cup if you want to try the original recipe. Finally, the coconut milk was a genius addition. You can feel it in flavor and in the moist texture.

If this combination of ingredients intrigues you, I suggest give it a try. I really would recommend using arrowroot if you can find it. Try natural food stores, or whole foods, or even traditional grocers are getting fancy these days to compete.

Chocolate Pepitoria Cake

Ingredients:
2 cups ground toasted pumpkin seeds
3/4 cup coco powder
1/4 cup arrowroot powder (I used cornstarch)
1.5 teaspoons baking soda
.25 teaspoons salt
1 cup coconut milk
3 eggs
2/3 cup honey
3 tablespoon natural cane sugar or brown sugar
1/4 cup butter or coconut oil

Directions:
1. If you don’t have pumpkin seed flour, you can make your own. For two cups flour, toast 8 oz pumpkin seeds until they pop, about 3-4 minutes. Let them cool, and grind them in a coffee grinder.
2. Mix dry ingredients in a bowl, set aside.
3. Whisk together the wet ingredients, and then pour them into the dry ingredients whisking vigorously or use a hand mixer/blender.
4. Bake in deep dish cake pan, at least 9×9, at 350ºF for about 35-40 minutes, checking occationally. You don’t want it to spill over, now do you?

Para celebrar que estábamos en Madrid, mí sobrina y sus amigos organizaron que fuéramos a un restaurante o taberna como también se les conoce para que viviéramos el ambiente nocturno de la ciudad. Fuimos a descansar un rato al hotel y a cambiarnos para que estuviéramos listas para la hora que nos  citaron para vernos.

Nos llevaron a un restaurante  cerca de la plaza del Sol, en el cual  pudimos probar desde las famosas tapas, el riquísimos jabuco y el cocido madrileño un plato que es muy solicitado, es un platillo que se puede compartir ya que es muy completo ya que costa de Tocino, chorizo, ternera, garbanzo, pollo y col. Es un platillo muy completo.  Mi hermana se animo a pedir el gazpacho, que es una sopa fría, que la preparan con tomate, pimiento verde, pan, ajo y pepino con vinagre y aceite de oliva.  Mientras disfrutábamos nuestra cena platicamos con algunos amigos de mi sobrina, los cuales nos recomendaron que al día siguiente fuéramos a visitar el Museo de Prado un excelente museo con estupendas obras de artistas españoles e internacionales. 

Salpicón is a traditional Latin American dish. It varies significantly between countries, and even in Guatemala. But the way my Suegra makes it is with bolovique (round of eye cut of a cow, whatever that means), radish, onion, cilantro, lime, and salt, all finely diced and mixed together, served on tortillas like tacos. This is a very old dish, probably stemming from Spanish Colonial times as it was mentioned in the famous tale Don Quijote de la Mancha. It’s definition is basically that it contains some type of meat finely chopped, and salt. Thats pretty general. But I’m going to be using a more narrow definition here, based upon the meal Héc’s mom makes. Otherwise, the only thing my dish would have in common with the tradition is salt.

This was inspired by an excess of radish (as many of my dishes are inspired by some kind of excess…) I’ve never been into radish very much, but have of late taken to eating them whole dipped in a little salt. I like the sharp bite it gives. This is a nice side dish to accompany anything. I encourage you to try it with beef, pork, or chicken. I just don’t like cooking with meat very often.

Vegetarian Salpicón

Ingredients:
1 bunch of radish, grated (about 12 radishes)
1 or 1.5 large onion (I used white)
1 or 1.5 limes, juiced
1/2 cup cilantro, roughly chopped (mint can also be used)
Salt and pepper to taste

Directions: Combine all ingredients, taste, and adjust the seasonings to your liking. I use lots of onion and lots of cilantro.

Sometimes you just need to get away. I really don’t mind Guatemala City, but its nice to take a break from all the traffic and see some green countryside every now and then. After living in a place like Guate, I’ve really come to appreciate the value of green space – both to the human spirit and in dollars. Green is a luxury good, as Prof. Pollack might say. Any well-located, solid plot of green ground in the city is quickly purchased by a major developer who will quickly staple together an apartment complex or a compound of “American-Style” homes, which has lately been the trend. In our neighborhood I can count at least 5 new complexes currently being built. Unless you want to enjoy the grass in the median of Avenida Las Americas or Boulevard Reforma on a Sunday afternoon, to find a clean green space where one can go with their family for a picnic, one must drive a little ways outside of the city. In addition to green space, clean air and streets are valuable goods. There is lots of littering, and lots of pollution happening around the city. My guess is that the government has bigger problems to worry about at the moment, such as murder, violence, and corruption; funds are diverted elsewhere.

Just a few weeks ago the United States launched the Cash for Clunkers campaign urging Americans to ditch their old gas-guzzling emissions-secreting hunks of junk for more efficient environmentally friendly cars. Do you know where those cars will end up? Here. Importing used, totaled cars is a huge business in Guate. Entrepreneurs buy ‘em, repair ‘em so they are road worthy, and sell them for a decent price. And you bet there are still problems with them — like that black smoke coming out of the exhaust pipe. The road is filled with clunkers here. But the truth is people in general can’t afford to purchase that new hybrid, nor  do they have the time and money to fix major problems with their current vehicle (although I see a disproportionate number of Hummers here…but this just speaks to inequality). But for the majority, better just is not an option.

And then there is the city noise…but enough explaination : sometimes I just like to get out of the city for some piece and fresh air…

On Saturday we took a trip outside the city. We traveled only an hour and a half away — through beautiful farmland and patchwork-adorned rolling hills — to a little pueblo named Tecpán. A little beyond the pueblo is the ancient Mayan city of Iximché (proounced eek-seem-shey) which is now a national reserve. The ruins are not very large, nothing to compare to Tikal — but the history is there nonetheless, and its interesting to walk around, learn what all the structures had been used for, and imagine the ancient people strolling around going about their daily lives.

And most of all, the park was clean and green and well cared for. There were many families there walking around enjoying the space just as we were, others had brought picnics and were grilling carne asada, and children were playing soccer and tenta electrica (literally “electric touch”, but it is what we call tag). There was even a group of boy scouts having some type of ceremony. It was a tranquil place, and the only noise you could hear were the gleeful shouts of children playing. What a nice break it was for us — we who live next to a 24/7 gas station with the noisiest carwash you’ve ever heard. Sometimes I don’t even realize how loud it is until it shuts off and my ears are ringing — as if I am attending a concert.

We walked around the ruins for a little while before we settled under a tree to just rest and watch. The sun was out, blazing hot, but we were safely sheltered by the tree. We were really lucky to catch a sunny day like this in the middle of the rainy season. We just laid there watching a group of indigenous kids playing a very complex version of tenta electrica for quite some time, enjoying the nature and the tranquility.

But then our stomachs began to rumble, and we proceeded to our next destination: lunch! Tecpán is esteemed for its restaurants. There are more than a dozen of them, all advertising carne asada, caldo de gallina criolla (a traditional chicken stew), mantequilla lavada and other fresh dairy products — loads of culinary treats you can’t find as fresh in the city. There are a few restaurants we really like, such as Katok and La Cabaña de Don Robert — but my favorite is Rincón Suizo. I’ve mentioned before that I don’t eat a lot of meat, but when we come to Tecpán I cannot pass up the sausages. I even like the pork chops they serve here, and I don’t ever remembering enjoying pork chops. The meats are top of the line, fresh products from the surrounding countryside. Thats hard to pass up. And the tortillas are made fresh, taken from the komal (cast-iron griddle over a wood-burning fire) seconds before brought to your table. The smell is intoxicating. Here the tortillas are made with yellow corn, versus the white corn tortillas we get in the city. They are different. Not necessarily better, but noticeably different. And because of the freshness, much more enjoyable.

We ordered a typical Guatemalan lunch. Héc had pork chops with roasted cebollines in chimichurrie (green onions in a garlic-parsley-parmesean sauce) and Guacamol. I had chorizo and tortillas with guacamol on the side. We also ordered a portion of aged Chancol, a Swiss-style cheese made by people we distantly know, located in Nebaj at least 8 hours away on partially-unpaved roads. I’ve been dying to go there since I learned they had a little bed and breakfast. Plus cheese might be my favorite food. Anyway, in Tecpán we ate well and relaxed throughout the afternoon. It was a beautiful day up until we were within 30 minutes of the capital when it began to rain. And how refreshing it was to be cooled off by a summer shower after a long day in the sun. It truly was a perfect day.

La pista de hoy:

Cuando llegues a una ciudad, ve a la información turística. Aunque tengas un buen libro guía. Allí encuentras mapas gratuitos de la ciudad (mucho mejores que los de las guías), informaciones sobre precios, horarios, lugares para hospedarse, pistas de actividades gratuitas, etc…

Yo tenía mi guión de preguntas:

1)      ¿Qué es imperdible en esta ciudad, que no puedo salir de aquí sin haber visto?

2)      ¿Dónde hospedarme que sea en el centro y barato?

3)      ¿Dónde comer barato?

4)      ¿Cuáles son las comidas típicas (en mi caso: que no tienen carne)?

Y puedes preguntar que pasa en la ciudad aquellos días (algún festival, algún concierto). Y también si hay  algo gratuito. Muchas ciudades de Europa tienen visitas guiadas gratuitas, por ejemplo.

En algunos casos, ellos hasta ayudan a encontrar donde dormir, llamando a los hostales u hoteles y haciendo reservas.

También vale la pena echar un vistazo en los papeles con publicidad de paseos, restaurantes, etc…

Me quedaba un buen tiempo en las informaciones turísticas, se tenía tiempo, platicaba y hacía amistad con los/as informadores/as. Conseguí muy buenas pistas con eso.

Aguem reconhece a pessoa do quadro abaixo? Dou uma dica: o cabelo baguncado continua o mesmo.

Fofissiomo, nao? (Eu me derreto)

Esse quadro foi pintado pelo avo dele, Herr Ludwig Meir, em 1990. O primeiro neto da familia foi muito querido.

No ultimo final de semana, dia 9 e 10, viajamos ao norte da Alemanha (por locais impronunciaveis) para visitar os parentes do Ben. Os avos paternos falesceram, mas restaram os tios e primos que nos receberam muito bem. Foi uma otima oportunidade de experimentar o jeito alemao de ser.

Depois de quase cruzar o pais (com acento) em 3 horas fomos recebidos com um almoco tipico alemao: saucichas e “sauerkraut”, que consiste em repolho fermentado e em portugues, segundo a wikipedia seria Chucrute.

teve direito a sobremesas, uma cheese cake e outra de pessegos e bluberries

Essa eh a Lena, filha da prima do Ben, que morria de conversar comigo, mas tudo que eu dizia era "Ja" e "Nein". Na foto, vcs podem ver o cardapio do segundo dia, tambem comida tipica alema: Rot Sauerkraut, um bolo de pao (que agora me falta o nome) acompanhado de um assado.

Sacha(centro), e sua namorada, que nos levou pra conhecer a cidade

Sacha (eu tive uma risada interna quando fui apresentada), o primo, eh musico e estudante de design. Ele tambem tem uma pintura feita pelo avo de quando era crianca mais so pode ser reconhecido se vc abstrair os oculos o chapeu e a barbicha. Enfim, mas estivemos em Duisburg nao so pra comer. Visitamos o parque da cidade, Landschaftpark , construido no terreno de uma industria desativada.

Estranhando um parque que efetivamente “mantem” velharias? Essas ruinas fazem parte da historia alema. Segundo os idealizadores, foi ultilizado o conceito da “Arte Memorativa”. Afirmaram ainda que era preciso lidar com o passado para cura-lo ao inves de simplesmente nega-lo (acredito que referia-se a provavel utilizacao da fabrica para fins belicos, ou ao fato que a fabrica deixou a area bastante poluida, ou ambos).

Mas voce deve estar se perguntando: cade o “parque”. Te mostro:

Paredoes para a pratica de escaladas

Tobogans(?) enoomes.

Vi criancinhas felizes caindo de bunda na areia e pensei: eu vou! Pessima ideia….Nao sei porque raios tirei o sapato (eu nao queria sujar na areia) e sai me debatendo durante uns longos 7 segundos. O Ben disse que, pelo barulho, eu so podia ter me machucado muito. Esse ai faz a descida do INSANO parecer uma almofada. Mas eh a vivendo e aprendendo. Agora eu sei o segredo: va todo vestido, de meia e blusa de manda comprida de preferencia e nao tenha medo de cair na areia.

So pra encerrar o topico alemanha, quando voltamos pra Karlsruhe fiz questao de fazer meu autentico prato germanico:

Espero que vc nao tenha lido este post com fome

Bjs