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"Just remember, they can buy anything but they can’t buy backbone." - Rushmore - Herman Blume (Bill Murray)
Some things just cannot be explained. We drove up Ruta 12 (near the multi-million dollar homes) yesterday morning from the beach in Punta del Este. It was a beautiful summer morning drive in the country with no traffic, 60 degrees, and sunny. Birds were chirping, a light breeze was blowing, all in all an idyllic Disney moment. Only two cars were in front of us. There was a lone cyclist riding a very expensive bicycle on the road. He was handsomely decked out in spandex, riding gloves, special shoes, and helmet. The car in front of us slowly passed him and as it did so, the cyclist began lifting his left arm into the air, pumping it up and down. We were a a few meters back, and couldn't quite make out the hand gesture, so we wondered what Uruguayan tradition this might be.
As the next car passed, it became very clear - not an Uruguayan tradition at all - just a road rage bicyclist wildly waving his third finger at every car! When it came our turn to pass, we looked at each other, wide-eyed and questioning whether we'd be graced with his antics. Sure enough! We had a good laugh over his ridiculousness. Whatever his nationality, I hope he rides into the sunset a happier man.
Some things just cannot be explained. We drove up Ruta 12 (near the multi-million dollar homes) yesterday morning from the beach in Punta del Este. It was a beautiful summer morning drive in the country with no traffic, 60 degrees, and sunny. Birds were chirping, a light breeze was blowing, all in all an idyllic Disney moment. Only two cars were in front of us. There was a lone cyclist riding a very expensive bicycle on the road. He was handsomely decked out in spandex, riding gloves, special shoes, and helmet. The car in front of us slowly passed him and as it did so, the cyclist began lifting his left arm into the air, pumping it up and down. We were a a few meters back, and couldn't quite make out the hand gesture, so we wondered what Uruguayan tradition this might be.
As the next car passed, it became very clear - not an Uruguayan tradition at all - just a road rage bicyclist wildly waving his third finger at every car! When it came our turn to pass, we looked at each other, wide-eyed and questioning whether we'd be graced with his antics. Sure enough! We had a good laugh over his ridiculousness. Whatever his nationality, I hope he rides into the sunset a happier man.
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"Cop: You know why I pulled you over?
Fletcher: Depends on how long you were following me!" - Liar, Liar - Cop and Fletcher Reede (Jim Carey)
Guess it was bound to happen sooner than later…I received my first Uruguayan traffic ticket. I had absolutely no idea what I had done wrong. The very nice young officer who stopped me spoke no English, so we had to get by with my limited Spanish and trembling hand signals.
I'm sure he regretted having stopped me, as it was about 95 degrees and took way longer than he ever imagined. I kept saying, "No entiendo." - I don't understand. Finally he went back to his car for the 4th time (after checking out all of my IDs, which I handed over with those trembling hands) and returned with pen and note paper.
He drew a beautiful diagram of the roundabout (traffic circle) I had just navigated. It seems that I don't know how to navigate those as well as I thought I did. I had been exiting the circle incorrectly every single time. Yikes!
He was extremely polite and apologized as he handed over the ticket. I'm not sure if he was apologizing for giving me the ticket or for causing himself to sweat.
Update: I tried forever to pay that ticket! No one would take my money. I let it slide and thought that maybe it got torn up. Nope, four years later - there it was online and had quadrupled in price...geez. It's now been paid.
Fletcher: Depends on how long you were following me!" - Liar, Liar - Cop and Fletcher Reede (Jim Carey)
Guess it was bound to happen sooner than later…I received my first Uruguayan traffic ticket. I had absolutely no idea what I had done wrong. The very nice young officer who stopped me spoke no English, so we had to get by with my limited Spanish and trembling hand signals.
I'm sure he regretted having stopped me, as it was about 95 degrees and took way longer than he ever imagined. I kept saying, "No entiendo." - I don't understand. Finally he went back to his car for the 4th time (after checking out all of my IDs, which I handed over with those trembling hands) and returned with pen and note paper.
He drew a beautiful diagram of the roundabout (traffic circle) I had just navigated. It seems that I don't know how to navigate those as well as I thought I did. I had been exiting the circle incorrectly every single time. Yikes!
He was extremely polite and apologized as he handed over the ticket. I'm not sure if he was apologizing for giving me the ticket or for causing himself to sweat.
Update: I tried forever to pay that ticket! No one would take my money. I let it slide and thought that maybe it got torn up. Nope, four years later - there it was online and had quadrupled in price...geez. It's now been paid.
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"I'm sure I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about." - Mary Poppins - (Julie Andrews)
Driving here is like driving bumper cars at an amusement park. I’ve learned to swerve in and out of lanes without signaling (that only confuses things here), drive down the middle of the road while searching for potholes, pass motorcycles with 4 people on them, and sneak quietly past gauchos riding their horses on Sundays.
Potholes are by far the most disturbing thing here – some are big enough to swallow a VW Beetle! However, in preparation for the massive load of Argentinians and Brazilians who will vacation here for December – February, they start repairing the roads in September. By next fall, they will be full of potholes one again, because they don’t do a very good job of filling them. The Uruguayan reasoning: someone will always have a job filling the holes!
Building is coming along nicely – I have learned more than I ever wanted to know about framing, building supplies, and roof trusses!
Today I was able to speak English to a window supplier. I know when I find someone who finally speaks English, I talk their heads off! My Spanish is still leaving a lot to be desired. I have finally learned to pronounce two “ll”s like a ZZZZHHH sound, rather than a Y sound like we do in Texas and Mexico. Pollo – chicken – is POHZHO. Kind of like pohshow. Whoo hoo, it’s different and does not sound like the Spanish we hear in Texas – sounds more like French to me.
Driving here is like driving bumper cars at an amusement park. I’ve learned to swerve in and out of lanes without signaling (that only confuses things here), drive down the middle of the road while searching for potholes, pass motorcycles with 4 people on them, and sneak quietly past gauchos riding their horses on Sundays.
Potholes are by far the most disturbing thing here – some are big enough to swallow a VW Beetle! However, in preparation for the massive load of Argentinians and Brazilians who will vacation here for December – February, they start repairing the roads in September. By next fall, they will be full of potholes one again, because they don’t do a very good job of filling them. The Uruguayan reasoning: someone will always have a job filling the holes!
Building is coming along nicely – I have learned more than I ever wanted to know about framing, building supplies, and roof trusses!
Today I was able to speak English to a window supplier. I know when I find someone who finally speaks English, I talk their heads off! My Spanish is still leaving a lot to be desired. I have finally learned to pronounce two “ll”s like a ZZZZHHH sound, rather than a Y sound like we do in Texas and Mexico. Pollo – chicken – is POHZHO. Kind of like pohshow. Whoo hoo, it’s different and does not sound like the Spanish we hear in Texas – sounds more like French to me.
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"We do not follow maps to buried treasure and X never, ever marks the spot." - The Last Crusade - Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford)
The 4th outing I took driving the truck in Uruguay was interesting, to say the least. It was terrifying driving a stick shift with all the motorcycles and the roundabouts. I thought it would be easy on a Sunday morning and I would practice using the GPS we have, to ensure I wouldn't get lost. WRONG!
I was simply going to a department store about 30 minutes away and I did know the way. However, a bit nervous, I punched "Devoto" (the name of the store) into the GPS unit and dutifully followed Miss GPS lady's instructions. After awhile, I realized that Miss GPS was taking me on a route that was very different, but I thought, "OK, I'll learn a new way!"
Oh no, she took me to a Devoto store in an entirely different town in the opposite direction. By the time I realized this, I was too far into it to stop. The problem came with a major detour, accompanied by many policemen. I detoured and this really threw Miss GPS for a loop. She took me down dirt roads, through little residential streets, and through at least 30 turns. FINALLY, I ended up in the Devoto parking lot in the town of Piriapolis, not Punta del Este, as I wanted.
Still dizzy from all the detours and turns, I stumbled into the store for yet another adventure. I saw a bin of unpackaged bed sheets. They were perfect to line the curtains I was sewing back at our house. As I looked at the price sign on the bin, I realized that the prices was by weight - per kilogram. I had never seen that before (and I have never seen it since). There was a scale nearby, but no one to work it. So, being resourceful, I went to the produce department with my sheet and politely asked the young man there to weigh it for me. (Side note: in nearly every supermarket, there is a person who must weigh your produce before you buy it.) He nearly doubled over he was laughing so hard. He (between giggles) pointed me back in the direction of the linen department. As I walked away, I heard him still laughing - guess I made his day! I finally found someone to weigh my sheets ($8.00) and made my way back to the truck.
Since I had no idea how to get home, I was again at the mercy of Miss GPS. This time, she took me on a very scenic route down the beach - with beautiful views of the Atlantic. Just as I was smiling and beginning to like her, she demanded that I turn right and turn left. This would have been fine, except she guided me directly into a Cowboy (Gaucho) parade with at least 50 people dressed in historic costumes on horseback. That was exciting for about 4 minutes, until I realized I would be stuck following them and waving to those on the sidelines for the next hour, if I didn't find another route on my own. Pooh on you, Miss GPS. I made lots of turns, all with her screeching at me to go back, turn around, etc. Finally I made it to a spot of her liking and she calmed down enough to give me directions back home. What a Sunday drive!
The 4th outing I took driving the truck in Uruguay was interesting, to say the least. It was terrifying driving a stick shift with all the motorcycles and the roundabouts. I thought it would be easy on a Sunday morning and I would practice using the GPS we have, to ensure I wouldn't get lost. WRONG!
I was simply going to a department store about 30 minutes away and I did know the way. However, a bit nervous, I punched "Devoto" (the name of the store) into the GPS unit and dutifully followed Miss GPS lady's instructions. After awhile, I realized that Miss GPS was taking me on a route that was very different, but I thought, "OK, I'll learn a new way!"
Oh no, she took me to a Devoto store in an entirely different town in the opposite direction. By the time I realized this, I was too far into it to stop. The problem came with a major detour, accompanied by many policemen. I detoured and this really threw Miss GPS for a loop. She took me down dirt roads, through little residential streets, and through at least 30 turns. FINALLY, I ended up in the Devoto parking lot in the town of Piriapolis, not Punta del Este, as I wanted.
Still dizzy from all the detours and turns, I stumbled into the store for yet another adventure. I saw a bin of unpackaged bed sheets. They were perfect to line the curtains I was sewing back at our house. As I looked at the price sign on the bin, I realized that the prices was by weight - per kilogram. I had never seen that before (and I have never seen it since). There was a scale nearby, but no one to work it. So, being resourceful, I went to the produce department with my sheet and politely asked the young man there to weigh it for me. (Side note: in nearly every supermarket, there is a person who must weigh your produce before you buy it.) He nearly doubled over he was laughing so hard. He (between giggles) pointed me back in the direction of the linen department. As I walked away, I heard him still laughing - guess I made his day! I finally found someone to weigh my sheets ($8.00) and made my way back to the truck.
Since I had no idea how to get home, I was again at the mercy of Miss GPS. This time, she took me on a very scenic route down the beach - with beautiful views of the Atlantic. Just as I was smiling and beginning to like her, she demanded that I turn right and turn left. This would have been fine, except she guided me directly into a Cowboy (Gaucho) parade with at least 50 people dressed in historic costumes on horseback. That was exciting for about 4 minutes, until I realized I would be stuck following them and waving to those on the sidelines for the next hour, if I didn't find another route on my own. Pooh on you, Miss GPS. I made lots of turns, all with her screeching at me to go back, turn around, etc. Finally I made it to a spot of her liking and she calmed down enough to give me directions back home. What a Sunday drive!
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"Do or do not. There is no try." - The Empire Strikes Back - Yoda
I drove for the first time in Uruguay this afternoon. This was my first time in 20 years to drive a stick shift! I was trying to go from our home to the local Almacen - a little store on the side of a man's house - just 3 kilometers away.
Twelve kilometers later I realized I had gone in the wrong direction. I certainly drove more of a maiden voyage than I intended. Once I did get to the store (which is attached to the owner's home), after dodging chickens and dogs, the owner and I both laughed at my driving adventure when I told him his store was the first place I had driven in Uruguay. He rewarded me with a bottle of wine and a good-natured teasing about getting lost. Gotta love this country.
I drove for the first time in Uruguay this afternoon. This was my first time in 20 years to drive a stick shift! I was trying to go from our home to the local Almacen - a little store on the side of a man's house - just 3 kilometers away.
Twelve kilometers later I realized I had gone in the wrong direction. I certainly drove more of a maiden voyage than I intended. Once I did get to the store (which is attached to the owner's home), after dodging chickens and dogs, the owner and I both laughed at my driving adventure when I told him his store was the first place I had driven in Uruguay. He rewarded me with a bottle of wine and a good-natured teasing about getting lost. Gotta love this country.