jueves, 24 de marzo de 2011

In which I get green, threaten a tree and plan for domination

Tonight I’m meant to be preparing for a debate for my Gender and Human Rights Class. Tomorrow I am due to argue against LGBT rights which means I really should be spending this time looking at homophobic websites to compile info for my big, evil argument. But I don’t want to! So instead I have spent it making fresh lemonade (we managed to end up with a carrier bag full of lemons left over from a party.... and well the rest wrote itself), eating guacamole and hanging out.

Life has been pretty damn busy lately, (isn’t it always). We have these cultural nights, I may have mentioned them before, when each region presents food and entertainment from their countries. Europe and Middle East is coming up and guess which idiotic, pain-addict has ended up organising it. No not Charlie Sheen, me.  But it is causing a similar style breakdown. The problem is Europeans and Middle Eastern students are definitely the minority at the school, so while other nights had huge task forces we have a few brave souls running around doing everything. But heck if history has taught us anything it is that Europe doesn’t really see logical things like physical size as an issue when it comes to world domination. And yes, I just compared my party planning to colonialism, which may mean the party will slowly crumble as the guests take control of their fun, one by one. But I refuse to look that far ahead.

Anyway enough pseudo-historical party planning, it is all happening next Friday (April 1st if you can believe that) and has a medieval theme. So I have a week to make a suit of armour out of tinfoil. If you have seen my previous fancy dress costumes you should know tinfoil is a favoured medium of mine and this should not be a problem.

Speaking of parties, we had a great Paddy’s night house party at our house. Guinness, baileys, beer and my skin got dyed green, songs were sung and merriment was had. I did badly miss my and Sho’s tradition of Guinnpagne (Guinness drunk out of champagne flutes), potato bread and Father Ted, but I guess this was the next best thing.

Other than that it has been a lot of studying and trying to get my thesis done as fast as is humanly possible. My new flat is working out brilliantly, I live with Rafael from Mexico and Patrick from US (Michigan) and they are awesome flatmates. We have just discovered an avocado tree that hangs over into our garden so every day I check if the bulbous fruit is ripe yet. (Rafa informs me shouting abuse to try and make them mature faster is not an efficient gardening technique. But then he hasn’t experienced the British schooling system).  

Tomorrow we have a leaving party (Mum please see Paragraph 5 which outlines the work I have been doing. Ignore all the rest about parties!) This party is for the Asian Leaders Programme, (40 students from Asian countries) which will be really sad. Then on Saturday I am popping up to Nicaragua for a long weekend, so will report back on that soon.

Lessons learnt:

Nothing about homophobic arguments, thank goodness.

Green beer is fun. Green hangovers are not.

I helped Rafa out making guacamole for Latin American night. 200 portions of guacamole. Despite cutting a million tomatoes, etc I still love the stuff. I think this is real.

martes, 15 de marzo de 2011

In which I go dancing in the streets, explore a ghost town and spend 36 hours on a bus

On the 1st Jan I was walking, in the rain, across a crumbly old bridge trying to ignore the circling crocodiles below, on my way to Panama. I had a brilliant time but managed to leave the country without seeing the canal or buying a hat... and frankly that just did not seem right. So two months on I was back again, this time on the way to Panama City to dance by the side of an artificial waterway, while wearing appropriate headgear, for Carnival! Now let me tell you, I´d take moulding bridges and snapping crocs over a 23 hour bus ride, complete with 5 hour border queuing any day!

A whole day after setting off Isabelle and I finally pulled into the big city, bones creaking and tethers pretty much running out. To rub salt in our achy wounds we made it to the hostel to find the boys (Arthur and Patrick) resting up at the hostel having flown in that day, with inflight movies and open bar. Such is the cheap-skate, vaguely environmentally aware lifestyle I suppose, damn.

The journey was soon forgotten though thanks to pizzas and Panamanian beer. We met up with some American girls from Uni and had a nice meal near the hostel. Panama City is an impresive, strange city. It has a real futuristic, post-apocalyptic feel. Or like an abandoned film set. Unlike any other Latin American city I´ve been to it is full of shiny, skyscappers, which, next to the beautiful Pacific coastline gives it a Miami kind of vibe (I say having only seen Miami airport or the city from the airplane window). We heard a rumour that a lot of the sky scrappers are empty having been built to launder money from Colombia drug cartels. I asked pretty much every taxi driver if this was right and it seems like a bit of an exageration but there is no doubt many of the buildings are fairly empty, most likely because they are second homes.

The next day we woke early and took a taxi then hour ferry out to Isla Taboga, a beautiful little island off the coast. It is the city-dwellers weekend get away and, while pleasantly calm during the week we could see just why people would flock here. The island´s village is a scattering of white washed houses with splashes of brightly coloured walls. From the golden beach we could see the ghostly silhouette of the big city across the water watching over us as we swam. We hung out on the beach, Isabelle with her laptop finishing her Global Human Rights Systems essay (which frankly was how I had imagined doing all my school work before coming here!) That evening the boys and I went to check out downtown, which is full of tall buildings and bright lights. Arthur ate his body weight in clams and a jolly time was had by all. Except the clams.

The next day we went to a city across the isthmus (my new favourite word!) to a strange tax-free, walled mini-city. I took advantage of the cheap prices and got myself this little notebook. And just as well I did or this blog would be significantly less tangible than it is now. Shopped out we enjoyed lunch and some umbrella-adorned drinks in Colon (Colon city seems to be a popular Latin American name, I blame the second of Freud psychosexual phasing. Or Christopher Colombus, whatever,) before going to the Gatun locks to see the huge ships slowly passing through. What with my Dad enjoying the odd walk down by the canal I have seen my share of locks in my time, but I have to say these ranked pretty highly.

We decided to take an old school train to get back to Panama City. The train was how I imagine the Orient Express, all dark wood pannelling and green glass lamps, very 1930s glamour. We all held our breaths going through the tunnels wondering who would be the first victim of the charasmatic gentleman murder who was sure to be aboard. We managed to escape dastardly murder and took advantage of the outside carriages to watch the sunsetting over the wide canal. The trip wasn´t without peril however, after joking about a Rakes on a Train pardoy (I am so sick of these monkey-fighting rakes on this monday-to-friday train!) we were sticking our heads out of the carriages and Isabelle came inches away from having her head Krugerred off by a rake-like barrier next to the tracks. Thank goodness we made it off in one piece.

That night we decided to go check out Carnival, which after all was why we were there. We had a little pre-drink at the hostel before dinner, which took slightly longer than expected, and arrived to find the local Mexican restaurant closed. Fortunately the owner took pity on us and opened the place up just for us! Loaded up on burritos and nachos we headed out to the coast-side stretch of road which had been cordoned off for the party.

Carnival was fun but not exactly what we were expecting. Instead of floats and dancers it was more like a mini-music festival with large stages with bands and people hanging out drinking in the streets. We also learnt very quickly one of the most popular activities at Panama City Carnival was silly-string/fake snow/ confetti attacks. Isabelle got a throat full of confetti so we got our own back with silly-string vengeance. We drank seco (sugar cane alcohol) with lemonade, watched fireworks and fake-snow storms, boogied in the streets and watched some pretty awful bands.

The trip back was a lot better and somehow the 13 hours bus ride seemed to improve the chest/ear infection I had been suffering. So antibiotics can work but combined with massive bus rides it can also work.

We also:Checked out China Town. Ate some spring rolls and bought 5 different types of comedy glasses. Each.

Almost ate in a BBQ carwash! We turned up there on the way to find another restaurant, but if you like your burgers soapy this is the place for you.

Found a drive through ice cream parlour. Without a car. Walking by making brum brum noises is a passable alternative.

Explored the oldest settlement in Latin America... and quickly climbed all over it

The boys went to the ATM and took their cans of beer on the way. They got stopped by the police and forced to pay $100 as a bribe! A little different from Izz and my run in with the law where instead of a bribe we just got asked out repeatedly for a week.

Lessons learnt:Ridiculous sunglasses are not just stylish, they can also provide important protection from fake-snow attacks. (I am still scarred from PJ´s paintball blinding in Byker Grove. Whyyyyyyyyay man?!)

I am so sick of rakes on trains. And buses.

The Panama canal takes 8hr to cross on a boat, and you would need some strong arms to screw open the locks.