Friday, November 25, 2005

notes from the underground

Hello blog-friends!  I am writing this from Venezuela, where I am spending my Thanksgiving holiday.

So today we went to "el centro" which, I don't know if you can guess this-- means "center".  It was totally full of people and vendors and street markets and cars and seriously, after five minutes I wanted to scream "just shut up you stupid venezuelans!" but I decided at the last moment that this might not be the best idea.

Actually, I'm going out of order.  First we went to a museum, then el centro.  At the "museo" I was like, where's the rest of it? but not all places are the Smithsonian.  It was a life lesson.

After the museo my dad got the idea that we just had to eat "Cachapas" which means "yummy venezuelan sandwich thing that resembles a pancake but isn't"  This is how we started off going to el centro, because cachapas were supposed to be there, except we just kept driving around and around asking people "A donde esta un restaurante con cachapas?" which means "give up some cachapas bitches!" but no one could help.  Finally I was like, LETS JUST EAT SOMETHING, so we disembark only to find ourselves not near any restaurants.  We walk past fifty thousand venezuelans and go to one cafe but they don't have cachapas so we trek through another fifty thousand people and FINALLY found a place with this blessed sandwich.

A cachapa is made from corn meal mush, which is cooked like a pancake.  Then the pancake is folded around a filling of corn, peppers, chicken, and onions and garlic, etc.  The pancake part is sweet and the chicken part is savory and seriously?  The damn sandwich was actually worth all the trouble.

Also, I drank fresh papaya juice.  I ordered mango, but they were out so I was like, "fiiiiine, give me the papaya, I'll suffer through it."

I'm sure you'll all be glad to know that my hair has been holding up admirably in this heat.  Sure, there is a bit of frizz, but all in all I think its okay.

One really weird thing is how Venezuelans apparently think its cold here.  Maybe- and I mean, MAYBE it gets to 70-75 degrees at night, and there is a nice breeze.  But I keep seeing people in long sleeves, jackets, even sweaters!!  Venezuelans are also in love with Christmas.  Everything here is Christmas, the stores are all decked out-- even the street vendors are caroling and wassailing all over the place.  I think the Christmas spirit has blinded people to the real truth-- its fugging hot!  Take off that damn sweater!

Ok ok, no one wassails anymore.  You got me there.  But its still hot and I stand by that statement.