dead chickens and firemen

*index of terms used in this entry
dulce de leche- sort of like caramel but better
las heladerias- ice cream shop
holiday-kilos- a term i´ve just made up to make me feel better about eating dulce de leche ice cream every day.

Until a few days ago the the strangest observation I had made in Uruguay was a dead chicken floating in the water. Yes, a dead chicken. At that point I was a little worried that my blog was to become a whole lot more boring for you guys. The thing is, Uruguay is making me very happy at the moment. In this country freeways are as smooth as a baby´s bottom, las heladerias* have ten different flavours of chocolate (italian, dutch, spanish, rich, richer...etc), meat is as tender you can imagine, and the heavenly dulce de leche* leaves you well on your way to putting on the obligatory ten holiday-kilos*. You could indeed draw the conclusion that Uruguay is keeping me sufficiently nourished. And of course I am getting some special treatment as a guest of Octavio´s lovely family. Anyone else with family or friends in South America let me know, I love home stays!
So back to a few days ago when I sat on the beach and spotted the dead chicken floating in the water I thought, well, this is the craziest thing I´ve spotted so far, I´ll write about this. Sometimes you just have to write about nothing because there really is nothing to write about, and the writing about nothing is the subject of everything. That was until Vanina had to call the fire brigade!
Take yourself back to a few nights ago. Myself, Antonia (O´s mum), Vanina (O´s sister) and a couple of V´s friends were sitting around in the apartment here in Montevideo when Vanina received a call that smoke was coming from her friend Martine´s apartment upstairs and that the dog inside the apartment was barking like crazy. We all ran to the window, looked up and sure enough, smoke was pouring out of the window! Adrenaline kicked in and Vanina sprang into action calling the fire brigade and Martine to let him know his apartment was up in smoke. We all ran down stairs to wait for the fire brigade, but soon enough Martine arrived on the scene and sprinted past us, ignoring Vanina´s pleas not to enter the apartment. Meanwhile, various neighbours began to poke their heads out of apartment windows to see what all the fuss was about and ten seconds later we heard sirens. About ten police officers wearing protective armour arrived, two on what seemed like scooters rather than motorbikes and the rest in tiny Fiats. I had to laugh coming from land of the Holden Commodore V8 police cars. Just as they arrive, Martine leans out of the window of the still smoking apartment and gives the thumbs up and yells, ¨todo bien!¨ This was even funnier, because of the smoke which was quite clearly still coming from the window. Was he mad? I really wasnt convinced todo was bien and thankfully the police also had their doubts and went upstairs to sort things out. It turns out that two eggs had been left to boil and there was nothing on fire... so in the end I didnt get to see the firemen in action...which is a good thing of course....
The next ten or fifteen minutes were devoted to yelling out to the neighbours still poking their heads out of their windows (including the loopy old lady in the apartment on the top left hand corner) as they asked que paso? or -what happened?
I suppose the moral of the story is don´t leave food unattended on the stove, be friends with your neighbours and get a dog.

yes, life in uruguay has been exciting.

but what about argentina, i hear you ask.
besides the fact the two countries are currently in conflict and argentinians are blocking the bridge crossings in-between (roadblocks really are ¨in¨ in latin america), argentina and uruguay share a few similarities. they have excellent tender meat, delicious ice-cream and dulce de leche. they also have what my san diego hippie friend (aka young tony) referred to as possibly a ´job creation program¨. Or maybe Henry Ford´s division of labour idea really caught on here, as it is evident in most stores.
Some real-life examples in Argentina and Uruguay:
-You pay one person for the ice-cream, and you take your receipt to another who serves it.
-Someone weighs your peach and calculates the price. That person calls out to the person behind you. You pick up your peach, turn around, place it on another counter, and they cashier tells you how much it is (never mind the fact you already know because the other person has just told you) and you pay the cashier. No the shop isn´t busy, you are the only person in there.
-In supermarkets, one person scans the groceries, another another puts the items in plastic bags.
-Want to buy a ticket to Uruguay from Buenos Aires? Go to the office and wait to book the ticket. Go to another line to pay for the ticket and pick it up.

Another interesting phenomenon has been the right of the cashier to prevent you from buying something in their store if you produce a large note. On my way to Uruguay I was in a pickle, as I needed change for the taxi who was waiting patiently outside for me to pay him. I went to buy rip off bread roll for 5 pesos wih a 100 peso note and the cashier said no! So I just stood there... another ten seconds, and I would´ve cried just to make him sell it to me. Not changing big notes is an annoying although quite common theme in the countries Ive been too and has led me to save a few pesos along the way. I guess I should be grateful.

And so, such is the life of a traveller. A lot of eating, a few comparisons, an occasional whinge, and then the question of where to next? Somewhere in Brazil, but I am not sure myself. Will let you know from wherever I end up....