Hooray! It's official!

This morning we went to the judge's office and signed the final decree. Then Patrice took Paul to get the birth certificate and finally used one of the billion fotocopias in the city. Sofia and I met up with them again at the passport office. We got very, very lucky, because tomorrow is a holiday, and the passport office was closing early today. They were able to rush us through so we didn't have to wait till Monday to get the passport. This means we could buy our plane tickets to Bogota today for a Sunday morning flight. This evening we had to meet back at the attorney's office to turn in some papers and pay her. She wished us much happiness as a family, and we could leave her office feeling very excited and great sense of relief.
Now we just need to get in touch with our representative in Bogota to see when we can get the required appt. with the embassy doctor and predict when we will have Sofia's visa so we can change our flight home. But for right now we are celebrating!!!

Museo Taminango

Here are some photos of a museum we visited. Museo Taminango de Artes y Tradiciones Populares de Narino. This is the first house built in Pasto and was turned into a museum. The house was constructed with wood and covered with mud and straw, and owned by a Spanish General. The printing press inside was one of the first printing presses in Colombia, which made it very important. Paul should have written this post since he was able to listen to Patrice translate what the guide was telling us while I had to keep an eye on Sofia. She likes to run...

courtyard

flour mill

stairs to mill

river through garden and mill




wood instrument

vertebrae inset in stone near doorway

(used for cleaning off shoes)

Odds and Ends

This morning Patrice told us that he talked to our lawyer and that our court meeting might be today or tommorrow. Seeing as it is 10:46 p.m. as I'm typing this it looks like tommorrow. He also put his hand on our door frame and said " Knock on wood", crossed his fingers and finished with the sign of the cross, so we'll see. Once we have our meeting with the court we have to get Sofia's passport (at a Government Building) and then we can fly back to Bogota, go to the American embassy and then hopefully go home. It's all worth it , as Sofia is a blast . She can be funny, manipulative, charming, angry, hungry, destructive, flirty, coy, adventerous, demanding, and sleepy all within a half hour peroid. Just like me, so we get along pretty good.

Here are a few random things that didn't fit in any other blogs but I found interesting. I've mentioned before the wild dogs here, and have come to really appreciate them. I've never approached one but they seem pretty cool. The thing I like most about them is that you can see Darwinism at work. About 10,000 years ago there was wild dog, which was about 35 pounds and non descript. Since then humans manipulated, through breeding, everything from Chihuahuas to St. Bernards. When dogs are allowed to run free and breed at will, the dogs that survive are about 35 pounds and non descript. Little tiny designer dogs and huge dogs simply can't survive here. I am surprised though that these dogs don't form packs (as is natural for them) and attack and eat anything they want. But they don't. What I don't appreciate is the fact that they crap all over the sidewalks, streets, park grass and everywhere else. It's hard enough to try to walk around here with the traffic without making split second decisions between stepping in dog crap or getting hit by a cab.

Another thing we see in Pasto, and every other mountain town we've been to is armed soldiers at nearly every other corner. It's reasuring and disconcerting at the same time. Reasuring because they seem pretty nice and make you feel like they are here for your safety, and disconcerting because apparently there is the need for armed guards at every other corner. They are all in full military uniforms and carry weapons ranging from hip holstered revolvers (rookies ?) to clip fed assault rifles, uzis, or like the guy that is by the park behind the hotel we take Sofia to every day, a short barrel, stockless, pistol grip, pump action shot-gun. We see this guy every day and he is really nice. He speaks enough English to say to me "Good morning sir" When I say "Buenos Dias". I wanted to ask if I can get my picture taken with him but my Spanish is so poor that so far I'm following a good general rule, "When in doubt that you might offend the guy with a shot-gun, always err on the side of caution." But I'd still like to try before we leave Pasto. (watch for my next post:" Why I got shot in Pasto")

As I've mentioned before the traffic here is insane. Trying to cross busy downtown streets with a toddler in a stroller is a task to say the least. Sofia gets upset if I push the stroller, so Erin gets that job. Also if Sofia gets more upset and wants to be carried, Erin gets that job too, as Sofia won't let me carry her yet. Sofia weighs a good 29 pounds so Erin has been getting quite the work-out here. Sometimes we wait 10 minutes to cross a street. There are no cross walks with lights telling you when to cross, and stop signs/traffic lights seem to be more of a suggestion than a rule. Also traffic lights here go from green to orange to red when you need to stop, but also go from red to orange to green when you need to go. So everyone at a red light has an orange warning light to let them know the light is about to turn green. Cue horns. People here use horns for everything. One beep can mean "I'm passing you/I'm going through an intersection/watch out for me." Two beeps seem to mean "Thanks for the heads up/I see you/ Hello!!" Three or more beeps seems to mean "You're in my way!/ Why aren't cars moving!/My car came equipped with a horn and I'll be damned if I'm not going to use it constantly!!!" So you can imagine how fun that is every day while walking with a toddler in a stroller.

The hotel owner Patrice (our interpreter/ driver / tour guide ) took us to a number of different local craft shops since we've been here. These shops have been incredible. These have all been people thet have learned a craft/trade instead of going to school, sometimes things that have been passed down father to son for generations. A couple of times we went to shops where the people worked with wood. Patrice, I'm sure just to build some common ground, would tell them that I was a carpenter, and the people would say "Ah bien bien." But there is always a big difference. I appreciate Patrice saying that as a way to introduce me but these people are not carpenters in the sense of the word you or I would recognize. I can frame a wall, hang a door or build a deck. These people are artists. They carve 15 foot tall crucifixes out of a single block of wood. They make intricate wood boxes and furniture and candle holders that I could never even hope to do. I really appreciate Patrice trying to build some common ground but it would be akin to him introducing me to the Lakers and saying "Paul bought a basketball last week, he is a basketball player too."

So far everyone here has been more than helpful and polite. I have been getting some funny looks for wearing shorts, when most people wear jeans a coat and often a scarf. I wish I could explain that I'm from Wisconsin and haven't seen 60 degree weather in 5 months, but at least I can wear shorts.

Another funny thing is the motocycle riders. There must be a helmet law, as they almost all wear helmets, but they don't wear them right. Everyone has the full face helmet that comes down around the mouth, but they push them up on their heads so the mouth part is on their forhead. It kind of seems to defeat the purpose, as the slightest accident would send the helmet flying . I also often see motorcyclists wearing construction hard hats, and have seen a few times people wearing those cheap plastic major league baseball "helmets" that I used to wear as a kid.

To end , here is a link to the website of the hotel Erin Sofia and I are at. You can see pictures of the outside, inside, owner and staff. The owner Patrice and his staff have been helpful and accomodating far beyond anything I could say.



Paul

http://lamaisondelejecutivo.com/

Funny Park

Video clips of two of Sofia's favorite rides at Funny Park....the airplane and ferris wheel.

Laguna de La Cocha

The other day the hotel owner Patrice told us about a friend of his that runs a tourist business here who could take us on a day trip over the mountain to a small village on a large lake. We said we'd be interested and Patrice set it up for us to go Sunday morning at 9:30 am. Patrice's friend Herman showed up in a taxi driven by David , who apparently drives Herman to the lake often. The drive took about 45 minutes because a few miles outside Pasto the mountian roads are unpaved and incredibly winding. We went up and around the mountain for about half an hour and then down the other side for about 15 minutes. The drives are incredibly scenic if a bit harrowing, but fun for the unique experince none the less. On the way Herman told us about all kinds of local legend and history as well as asking us a lot about ourselves. He is a native of Colombia but looks European in comparison to most Colombians. He spent 16 years in America, mostly in Manhattan, driving tour busses for Colombian and Mexican tourists. When he asked where we were from in America we said "Wisconsin, near Green Bay." He said "Oh Wisconsin is that near Nevada?" I said "No it's up near Canada, North of Chicago." Anywhere I've traveled foreign or domestic, people always know Chicago so its an easy reference point. Then he asked what was a big city in Wisconsin and we said Milwaukee. For the third time since we've been here, from the the third different person, from three different countries, he lit up and said "Oh like the TV show what is it called!" I answered out of habit "Happy Days." "Yes yes!" he answered "And the other one?" "Laverne and Shirley" I said. He laughed "I know Milwaukee!" So a hearty thanks to Ritchie, Fonzie, Potsie and Ralph Malph for putting my home state into perspective for the rest of the world. I also told him we were known for our dairy production and beer (he asked what beer and I said Miller which he recognized) and for Harley Davidson motorcycles. He was surprised and impressed by that.
When we got to the village on the lake he led us around on a small tour and it was beautiful. As opposed to Pasto, a big city made all of brick and stone, this villiage (El Puerto) was entirely constructed of wood. The houses were generally two story bungalow types and painted all different colors. They had porches on the ground floor and balconies on the second. I felt like I could have moved in and been happy. There is such a beauty to the simplicity of life in these mountain towns that is so appealing. But also it's like being on vacation anywhere and I'm sure if I did live there for a week I'd be crying for a delivery pizza and a store that sold bass strings. Nontheless it was a sight to see on this fantastic lake with a canal surrounding the edge of town. The design of the buildings and the dirt/mud road was like an old west town in a cowboy movie.

After a brief tour of town Herman took us over to a man that owned a long boat who could take us out to the island on the lake. The island is considered sacred to the local tribe of the area and is a wildlife preserve. The boat we were on was about 30 feet long and maybe 6 feet wide with an outboard motor that the owner operated manually. The top of the boat only sat about 6 inches off the water. It had a little tin and wood canopy on the front that came in handy on the way back as it then rained pretty heavily. The boat ride out to the island was lots of fun , and Sofia seemed to enjoy it as well. Once we got to the island (Isla La Corota) the first thing we saw off the dock was a beautiful church. The doors were opened and an eerie blue glow was visibile in the back behind the altar. The church was called La Virgin de Lourdes and the inside was all wood and stunning to see. Once we got inside I saw that the blue glow was from two vertical neon blue tube lights on either side of a statue of the Virgin Mary. This looked a good deal out of place in such a beautiful little church on such a beautiful little island. The "Neon Madonna" notwithstanding Erin said a prayer and I made 3 wishes , which according to Colombian custom you are allowed to ask whenever you enter a church for the first time. Then we proceeded up a path to the park rangers office. The park ranger gave a nice speech , which Herman translated for us , about the park and the plants and animals within. When he finished his speech he said (as translated to us) "Welcome to Isla La Corota." Herman said "Gracias Senior" Erin said "Muchos Gracias" and I in typical fashion blurted out "Buenos Dias!" (good morning). He gave me an odd look that I am all too accustomed to and off we went into the jungle.

There was a path through the jungle about 5 feet wide with wood branch railings on either side and inlaid with timbers, much like railroad ties to walk on. A few yards into the path was a sign in Spanish that Herman translated to us that said "The forest has it's own music, the silence here is like a million sounds." It's hard to describe the feeling I got on this walk. Being in the mountians , when there are no mountains in Wisconsin is one thing , but being in this jungle when there is nothing comparable in the United States is another. Sadly there are fewer and fewer places on Earth like this any more. It felt like being in church, as opposed to the church on the island, which felt more like being in a disco club. It's hard to see nature in such a raw and pristine state without feeling like such a small and insignificant part of something so much more grand. Below are some video clips of the boat ride to the island and part of our walk.

About halfway into the 30 minute walk across the the island we came to a tree that Herman had told us about. It is very sacred to the local tribe (the Quillasingas) and supposedly if you hug the tree for a minute or two you get great energy. The tribe Shaman goes to the tree often to get power to pass on to his people. I certainly don't want sound dismissive of anyone elses beleifs , especially after just being in a Catholic church that was lit up like a 70's bar, but I hugged the tree and only came away with a lot of wet moss on my sweatshirt. Maybe , like a lot of things, you just have to believe.

When we reached the other side of the island there was a round deck about 30 feet off the lake with an amazing view. We rested there and then turned around and walked the same path back to the docks where our boat was waiting.

On the way back to the mainland our boat driver took us around the island but it was raining pretty hard so we didn't see much. But once back on land Herman took us to a resaurant for lunch. This was one of our only real tastes of local cuisine, as breakfast at the hotel is eggs and fruit, lunch is take-out chicken or pizza , and dinner at the hotel is French style food. All of which has been delicious but lunch today was a real treat. It was grilled trout from the lake, and I'm not usually a fan of seafood but it was fantastic. The fish was so fresh and so perfectly seasoned and came with some french fries, rice, a grilled Plantain, salad, fresh fruit juice and a desert of local fruit and cheese. We ate on the second story of the restaurant ,the front of which was open overlooking the canal and you would be hard searched to find a better, more exotic locale or meal anywhere.

After lunch we had about 20 mnutes before the taxi came back for us and Herman led us to a small shop to buy some local hand crafted gifts to bring home. When the taxi came we all loaded in and began the trip home. From the lake we went up the mountain for about 15 minutes and then down the other side. Going down was where the roads got pretty bad. As soon as we got around the mountain and started to head down, I saw our taxi driver look up and make the sign of the cross. For me this is pretty high on the list of things I don't want to see my driver do. And while I'm all for faith, I would have thought he might have wanted to stack the odds in his favor by wearing his seat-belt. Then again maybe he didn't wear it as a show of solidarity to Erin, Sofia and Me because the seat-belts in the back of the taxi had previously been torn out. Either way we made it back safe and sound and both agreed it was about the coolest thing we've done here yet. Herman is an amzing person which is no surprise considering that he is friends with Patrice.
It sounds like we are getting close to coming home and while we all look forward to it I will definitely miss Pasto. After 3 weeks here, and being with Sofia for the first time, it feels like home in its own way. I can't believe the progress the three of us are making together, especially Erin with Sofia, it's mostly a lot of fun and an adventure also. But we really miss our freinds and family and our dog Sam. I'm sure her and Sofia will be quick friends, and being back in our own home and not all in one small room will be a relief for all of us.

Paul

P.S. Tomorrow or the next day I am going to try a local delicasy for lunch, guinnea pig. I'll take lots of pictures .

Museum of Science and Games

This is the other museum we visited with science displays and games for kids. Sofia loves to push buttons, so she had a blast here as there are plenty of buttons to push on all the displays.

Museo del Carnaval

Below are some pictures from the Museo del Carnaval of floats used in the parade. For some reason Sofia was very afraid of these.

Today Patrice took us to a doctors appointment that had been schuduled for Sofia a month or so ago. The appointment was scheduled for 2:00 and we didn't get in to see the doctor until about 2:40, so that felt like home. It was just a follow up appointment and they suggested a full checkup either here or when we get home, and seeing as Sofia was terrified I think we will wait to get home. At least then we won't need an interpreter.

After the doctor, Patrice drove us on a tour up the volcano. Shorlty out of town paved roads gave way to dirt/rock roads that I'm surprised Patrice's van made it through. These were steep mountain roads that were one vehichle wide and twisted and turned. On may parts there was a drop-off so far that not only would you die if you fell, you would have 10 minutes to ponder your bad luck on the way down. But Patrice did an amazing job in his van and it made me laugh to myself at the fact that Patrices van is about the biggest vehichle you see here. The people in the mountains drive little beat up cars and do just fine. To think of all the people we see at home with big SUV's that are supposed to be able to do this kind of driving, yet only brave the rough terrain of the suburbs is pretty funny. The scenery in the mountains is unreal. Being from Wisconsin with no mountains makes it that much more so. We stopped in a little town in the mountains on the way down and walked around a bit. Patrice joked to us about people staring at us and they surely were. I doubt that it is every day that they see a couple of Americans in their village. But none the less, almost everyone said "Buenos Dias" and smiled. I haven't traveled as extensively as some people, but I really think that most places you'll find that people are pretty cool. Governments might do bad things and countries might have certain attitudes tagged to them but people are generally just people. I know for sure that if one of my friends or I met someone at home, who was in the States from Colombia and we struck up a conversation it would only be a matter of minutes until we were drinking beer and grilling brats in the backyard. Patrice is the nicest person you could hope to meet and his hotel and staff are the same. I had a nice talk with his cook tonight about punk rock. He had Misfits and Ramones patches on the back of his backpack and when he was leaving I said "Pardon Senor" and mimed eating and said "Bien". Then I felt like a total moron when he answered "Oh You liked dinner, thanks." You get so used to no one speaking English, but its not exactly a secret language either. But we talked a bit of punk music for a minute and it was nice for me at least.

These are just a few of the other things here that struck me as interesting or different. First off, I asked Patrice what was up with all the fotocopias here and he explained. Apparently a lot of things here are a bit shifty and anything put in writing is copied and signed over and over just to cover all the bases. It still seems like a lot of Fotocopia shops though. Another odd thing is the gas trucks. There doesn't seem to be any mainlined natural gas here, yet every stove etc. runs off of gas. So everywhere has big gas cylinders delivered to them. Much like the propane tank on a barbecue grill but about 5 feet tall.

The trucks that deliver these gas tanks have a bell hanging over the cab with a rope coming down into the drivers side window wich the driver pulls non-stop to make it ring. I understand that with traffic here if you are driving the gas truck you want people to be aware of you but it also seems like having two hands on the wheel might not be a bad idea. Seeing that they are driving trucks, the internal combustion engine seems more complicated than say, a loud battery powered beeper. But whatever works.

I'm amazed at how much my Spanish has picked up, but when you are almost completly immersed in it, it is bound to . It's not like I can conjugate verbs or effectivly ask for directions but it is better. Sometimes though when I need to respond even if I know the correct response I will blurt out something stupid. At breakfast the waiter might ask "Mas Huevos?" (more eggs?) to wich I might panic and respond "Bueno Grande Por Favor!" (good big please!) or "Hola Cinco Bano!" (hello five bathroom!) But it's getting better.

I used change in a business transaction for the first time yesterday. At home I never use change , instead opting to pay with a bill and throwing all my change in a jar at my house. Here, every time I pay for things the clerk looks at my money and asks me something I don't understand. I assume it is something along the line of "Do you have a smaller bill or correct change?" but I'm not sure so I answer with my favorite phrase, "No Espanol". The bills here are the 50,000 Peso, the 20,000, 10,000, 5,000, 2,000 and 1,000. The 50,000 is roughly $20.00 American but apparently to make change for that is a hassle. The coins are 500 Peso, 200, 100, and 50. To put this in perspective the gumball machine at the mall costs 200 Pesos. For real. I'm not sure why there are even 100 or 50 pesos coins seeing that they cant even buy a gumball. I've been carrying around change wherever I go and handing it out to beggars, street people, etc and am surprised none of them has fired a 100 Peso coin at the back of my head and yelled something like "Thanks buddy one more of those and I could have a gumball for dinner."

Another thing that is odd is that the T.V. channels change at random. One minute you're watching a rerun of Everybody Loves Raymond on channel 53 and the next minute channel 53 is playing a Spanish speaking infomercial. As nice as it is to know that it's not only Americans who need to loose unsightly body fat, more efficiently grill meats or vacuum things with more power, it is a hassle to flip through 90 channels to find out how exactly things get resolved on Everybody Loves Raymond. One morning Cinemax is channel 20, after lunch its channel 98. I know that sounds petty and stupid but we have to spend a lot of time in a small room with a "spirited" toddler. Sofia is more fun every day but still a little rough at night some times. Every once and a while she will yell "Papi!", although never directly at me. Often when she wants my attention she will yell "Mami!" though. I'm hoping to work on this before she learns enough English to start telling people that she has two Mamis. She is warming up to me more now that she realizes that I'm the one who will swing her around upside down, stick coins to my forehead and act like a fool (my strong piont anyways), so things are mostly pretty fun. If you will indulge a new father a bit she seems incredibly smart and clever and has already learned to play cute and make us laugh whenever we try to tell her no or stop her from being naughty.

here are some pictures of our trip up the volcano, Paul

P.S. the cerveza here is Muy Bien.

Basketball Jones

The other day at breakfast I asked Patrice (the hotel owner , our interpreter,and driver) where I might find a basketball. He gave me a map of downtown Pasto , where we are, and showed me 3 sporting goods stores right next to the park we always go to. The same park I finally ended up finding a bathroom at last week. Some how I walked 10 miles last week right by the park and this week I find my self surrounded by stores selling basketballs a block away.I really could have used that map last week but Patrice was gone. When I asked about a basketball Patrice lit up and asked "You are good?"
I answered " no."
I played 2 or 3 years of basketball in grade school and although I am a decent athlete , basketball never did much for me. I was the equivilant of a hockey goon. Although never formally expressed, my coach and I both knew what my job on the court was. Throw the tall kid from the other team to the floor. I couldn't shoot, I didnt know the plays, but I would get put in the game for 30 seconds at a time to blatantly foul the best player from the other team, and throw a little fear into him. The last year I played my coach gave out awards at the end of the season for things like most points, or most rebounds and my award was least minutes played on the team combined with most fouls.
So without people to bully, seeing me on a court alone with a basketball is sad to witness at best.
Plus the court behind our hotel has no nets on the hoops. I never really realized the importance of nets until the other day. If you shoot like me and throw up an airball (60% of the time) the ball goes out into the street directly behind the hoop. If like me you hit the backboard but miss the basket (37% of the time) you can rebound the ball on the court. But the worst part is if you make a basket (3% of the time) without a net the ball bounces into the street again. I never realized a net helps the ball fall straight down after a shot is made because I never really made a shot before now. (thanks 8 and a half foot tall hoops).
Sofia on the other hand was a natural. The minute we got the ball to the park that had 7 foot hoops, Sofie wanted to play. She must have seen basketball before, because as soon as she touched the ball she ran to the hoop, looked up at it and then motioned for me to lift her up so she could dunk. She and I played a game to 12 by 2's and not to brag but I won 12 to 10. She has a good shot but can't match my muscle in the paint.

This weekend while we were looking for something to do, we noticed the amusement rides upstairs in the mall were open. (They had been closed every other time we were there.) Sofia was skeptical about the ferris wheel at first, but after the ride started, she was looking around, pointing and laughing. She tried out some of the other rides in the arcade part, but the helicopter was by far her favorite. She rode that one 3 times.

More Fun in the Park

As you can tell from the pictures, Sofia is finally warming up to Daddy more, letting him pick her up and play and taking his hand. She has also decided she wants to push her stroller more than ride in it. Walking takes a little longer this way, but it's fun to watch her. She even started "ghost-riding" her stroller down a small hill in the park. She could do this a hundred times over and over and giggles just as hard every time.

Fotocopias

I forgot to get back to this in my last post about the fotocopias. On every block there at least 1 or 2 stores that apparently make photocopies. What I don't know about Pasto could fill a few books , or at least a bunch of blog posts but I can't imagine why the need for this many photocopy stores. I'm sure if someone from Pasto came to Oshkosh and saw 15 taverns on every block they might think "Why do you need a tavern every 10 feet?" , to wich I would answer "Well just because, but whats with all the fotocopias?"

Lost in Pasto...Again

According to history Pasto was "founded" in 1537 by the Spanish Conquistador Sebastian de Belalcazar. I always kind of take issue with the idea of a European "founding" a place that indignous people have lived for a few thousand years, but that being said, my hats off to him for getting here from Spain on a boat when I get lost on foot every day on a 5 mile walk from the hotel.
I set off again at about 12:30 by myself from the hotel with the goal of finding a basketball. There are courts at the park behind our hotel and at the other park we go to. The hoops are only about 8 and a half feet tall so I could probably even... well I still couldn't dunk but I would look a bit better than I would on a court at home. So I set off downtown . My first stop on the way was a little shop like a convinience store to buy a bottle of lemonade. My first mistake. There were 3 people in the store, a middle aged man, a middle aged lady and a girl about 20. I tried to point to what I wanted and the usual confusion ensued. They laughed at me and I laughed along with them. Finally when I broke out my pesos and had the wrong amount again the man said "Italiano?"
I said "No American"
He answered "United Statas?"
And I said "Si Si "
Then he said "Hello! Hello! Hello!" While the 2 women laughed hysterically.
I thought it was pretty funny too and said "Hello!"
After I paid I started to walk out and the guy starts saying "Gud bye! Gud bye!" and they all lauged so hard I started to get the feeling they were not laughing with me, but laughing at me. Just the same I laughed pretty hard too. The biggest thing that makes you feel like a big dumb American, other than being here and not speaking the language, is to actually be big, dumb and American.
But undaunted I pressed on in search of a basketball, or at least a bit of dignity. It was a long day.
I kept walking downtown in search of a sporting goods store and the sun was brutal. I had sunscreen on my face neck and arms as I do every day but being up in the mountains the sun is decptively strong even though it isn't that hot. I'm pretty burned on my face neck and arms and as I tan very dark, by the time I get home I will have a farmers tan that I will be lucky to catch up on by the end of August. At home I will go around without a shirt all the time, but here no one ever goes without a shirt. We had also been told before we came here that people didn't wear jeans or shorts in public and that I had to dress up. I'm pretty understanding to local custom but that is not an option. At home my style of dress could probably be best described as upwardly mobile hobo, as I usually only wear ratty jeans, or shorts and t shirts. But much to my delight everyone here wears jeans and t shirts so lobster-like complextion aside I fairly fit in.
So I made my way to Alcosto (think Sams Club) and no basketball. Plenty of soccer balls though, or as I like to call them...soccer balls. I know that 95% of the world calls them footballs but living as close to Green Bay as I do, soccer balls they are.After that I wandered around for a while trying to find any place that might sell basketballs. Seeing that there are basketball courts all over here you wouldn't think it would be that hard but it turned out to be like trying to find a Bears jersey in the Lambeau Field gift shop. I did find a sports store but it was closed for lunch, as were many shops at that time of day. I love a good siesta myself but being from America its frustrating to have every other store closed at the only time of day I can get out on my own. So I thought I'd walk around a bit until the store opened back up. Mistake number 2. In no time at all I was so turned around it was pathetic. Pathetic in the sense that most people would have known exactly where they were, yet I might have ended up in Ecuador for all I knew. To me everything looked pretty much the same, shops selling chicken, shops selling jewelry and shops selling fotocopias, wich I will get to later.
So on I pressed. By this time I had drank 2 bottles of lemonade and nature was calling with a vengence. You might think after getting horribly lost and in dire need of a bathroom the other day I would have learned my lesson, but unfortunately I am quite simply not that bright.
I walked this way and that, turning corners and taking streets at random thinking I might find something that looked familiar. Unfortunatly it all looked familiar because to me it all looked the same. After a bit I sucked it up and asked a kindly looking middle aged gentleman "Alcosto?"
My thinking being that if I could find Alcosto I could get home because Alcosto, even though being a couple miles away was on the same street as our hotel. He launched into a speech that I politely listened to before saying "No Espanol" and indicated for him to point. He looked at me , deservedly , like I was an idiot and pointed off in a direction. It is a credit to the people here that he actually pointed with his index finger in a direction and didn't simply show me his middle finger as I probably deserved.
So I kept on walking in the direction he pointed and after 5 or 6 blocks I was still as lost as ever. To make matters worse I was walking down a fairly steep street and I have never noticed this before, but when you have to go to the bathroom really bad , somehow walking downhill seems to make it worse. After what felt like forever I ended up in a big plaza that Erin, Sofia and I had been in before. I felt a breif sense of triumph before realising that even though I'd been there before I had no idea where it was in relation to the hotel and without Erin there to follow I was still a long way from home, and a short way from a wet pair of shorts. I cannot stress enough how hard it is to find a bathroom here. Maybe someone more savvy in the ways of Pasto would have more insight but I was at a loss. Where I live in Oshkosh WI you can't throw a stone without hitting 4 taverns, all of wich have bathrooms. Or else there are gas stations, or restaurants or something but not here. Most of the shops here have bars over the front of them through wich you ask for pop chicken etc. and they are ironically about the size of the average American bathroom.
So I kept on walking, looking for any kind of business that I might be able to purchase anything at in exchange for the use of a bathroom. The closest thing I saw was a hotel and I seriously considered getting a room just to use the bathroom for 2 minutes. Again, its not like home where any hotel has a bathroom in the lobby. Then I happened to see a young lady wearing an Alcosto shirt in a park. Having been to Alcosto a few times I recognised it as an employee shirt. So I walk over and ask "Alcosto?" and motion for her to point. The subtleties of the Spanish accent far escape me and with my midwestern "yaaa" accent I'm afraid to think what she thought I said. She looked at me with a mixture of confusion and most likely fear, so to smooth things out I went in to sign language mode and pointed at her chest. She looked back at me like I was insane but I was at the point where either I got directions or pulled a Pasto special and just peed on a wall. I tried again to point to her shirt and say "Alcosto" and she looked terrified. I felt really bad for her but I needed help. I pointed to my own shirt then to hers agian and repeated "Alcosto". This time she understood and said "Alcosto! Si Si!" although with a decidedly diferent inflection than me. She then pointed down the street and said "Uno Dos Tres Quatro", and something I didn't understand. But I understood 4 blocks down and then... something. I thought if I made it the 4 blocks down I'd recognize where I was. So I went down 4 blocks and was as lost as ever. All of the sudden I saw the big park that Erin and I take Sofia to almost every day! The big park with (possibly the only public) bathrooms. I ran into the park and there was a guy sitting outside the door and a sign that said 400 pesos. 400 pesos is about 5 cents and it was worth every peso to finally find a bathroom.
When I got back to the hotel Sofia was just waking up from her nap and was cranky, but after she was fully awake she was a ball. She is (slowly) warming up to me and loves to play games. She still can't let Erin out of her sight but when Erin and I are both there she is so much fun. She is learning things so fast and is a shameless flirt with all the guys on the hotel staff at breakfast and dinner. Whenever Erin gets too far away from her she yells "Mami Mami", until Erin picks her up. Its amazing how readily she took to Erin, calling her Mami within 2 minutes of them meeting and Erin is doing an unbeleivable job considering she has to do most of the work.


Can't wait to get home, Paul

Happy Birthday Grandma!

Happy Birthday Mom! Sofia and I made this sign for you. We all miss you so much and wish we could be there with you. Hope you had a wonderful birthday. Love you very much! Erin, Paul and Sofia

here are some pictures from my walk. Below is a common sight, the security wall that has broken bottles set in the top.

Today When Erin and Sofia took a nap I went out for a walk. My goal was to buy some boxer shorts . I went to a number of stores and couldn't find any and with my lack of Spanish I have to rely mostly on a bizzare combination of sign language and poor Spanish. Usually this works okay but with underwear I was afraid I might end up arrested or engaged. So I kept walking and drinking a bottle of Postobon, a local pop that is tasty and fruit flavored. In no time at all I was completly lost, wich is no great feat for me considering I can get lost in Oshkosh while driving. I ended up wandering around in a not so nice neighborhood for about an hour or so. I don't leave the hotel after dark per the owners recomendation but I've yet to feel uncomfortable or threatened here in any way. Thanks to good American nutrition I have a good 3 or 4 inches in height on most people here. And thanks to bad American nutrition I have a good 30 or 40 pounds on most people here. Besides that no one seems to pay any attention here to me. I've been in situations in San Diego, Chicago, Milwaukee , and in Beloit where I grew up that were much more uncomfortable than anything here. Store owners have been very helpful if not a bit amused at my attempts to purchase any manner of things. Yesterday I went out to buy some calomine lotion for Sofia as she seems to have a small skin rash. I walked down town to Alcosto, wich is somewhat akin to Sams Club back home. Before I left I wrote down a mangled phrase from our phrase book that I hoped said " My daughter has a skin rash." When I showed it to two employees they looked at each other and then me somewhat skepctically. So then I broke out my sign language by putting my hand down by my knee palm down and said "la nina" and scratched my arm. They both laughed and one of them motioned for me to follow him. I was a little worried that they were leading me to the bananas thinking that I had a hungry monkey, but they led me right to the calomine lotion.

Then on the way home I found a 10,000 peso bill on the ground wich is about 4 dollars. Score two for me.

But on my walk today being very lost , yet I doubt more than a mile from the hotel, I had to go to the bathroom really bad (too much Postobon). I had seen this here before and saw it 3 times today, guys just turn towards the nearest building, or fence and let go. One guy I didn't even realize was taking a leak until I was about 2 feet away on the sidewalk. When I looked up and realized he just gave me a nonchalant " Buenos Dias". I didn't know where I was and public restrooms are... well I guess they are wherever you happen to be. Unfortunately for me my modest Midwestern upbringing ruled that out as an option.

Finally I found the mall that was near our hotel and ran in thinking they must have a public bathroom. Sure enough they did and just as surely the bathroom was locked. I was only about 5 blocks from our hotel but only about 2 blocks away from wetting my pants. So I ran across the street to a bar I had seen before. I ordered a beer as fast as I could and the lady working led me upstairs and sat me at a table. I thought if i needed to use the bathroom the least I could do was buy a beer. She went back down stairs for what felt like a year and finnally came back up with my beer at which point I probably shouted "Bano Por Favor". She kindly led me downstairs to the bathroom, after which I took some pictures and went happily back to the hotel.

I also keep forgetting to thank our friends the Andres, Troy, Dawneen, Olivia and Ella. They helped us out with getting the laptop computer we have been using to post all of this. Sofia has been watching Dora the Explorer and Sesame St. before bed every night and I don't know what we would have done without it.

Enjoy your readily available public restrooms, Paul