Las Ligas y las Cocineras

Times have been good lately, and I am getting a much better routine with work and the course of the day. I've been getting a lot more used to things, and I realize that I had a substantial adjustment period since first arriving. Since so many things change when one arrives abroad -- food, sleep patterns, transportation, work, the language, the weather, and even the coffee -- it was quite a shock to the system. My routine is now much better and I really feel that I am settling in. My birthday is coming up soon, so the family is heading out to wherever I prefer. I chose Mexican!


Went out of town to a town called Capieta the weekend before last, which was my first foray into the outlying parts of Asunción. I was spoiled for the whole weekend, since I was there with some friends from the Institute who I endowed with the name las cocineras while I was out there. They were cooking like maniacs, and all of the food was just fabulous -- props to Ingrid and Diana! In the shade in the first photo is the gallo -- the male chicken who mates with all the females -- and in the second is yours truly, picking some little peppers in the morning. The company and the relaxation I endured that weekend made the whole thing feel surreal, the type of experience expats seek in leaving their own homes. Qué gusto...




















I was a guest at a wedding here over the weekend and have a few pics from that, although I felt really cheesy when I was developing them on the computer. It was a great time: dancing, marvelous food, and bottomless drinks. At one point the groom observed that I had drank quite a bit of red wine; well, yeah, they kept on filling my glass! Anyways, it was a great time, and I am glad to have seen a wedding here in the Southern hemisphere. The main differences that I noticed were the traditions of signing the witness book (many people have to do so, and its quite ceremonial) and the custom of passing the ligas. You can see from the photo the custom, and I especially like the guys standing on the right of the photo. The bride has to pass 15 of them to another girl at the wedding. Oh, yeah, and Ingrid caught the bouquet. Good thing I'm not superstitious! ;-)


One related thing that I wonder about is that many people here wear their wedding rings on their right hand. This is really odd for someone (me) who has always noticed whether or not people have a wedding ring; the standard is there to eliminate this confusion, I reckon. Now ambiguity?! Also, I learned this weekend that the word foto in Spanish is feminine, which a found out when I asked a girl outside the chapel to take a picture of Ingrid and I – “nos saca un photo,” I asked her, “nos saca una foto,” she corrected. She proceeded to ask Ingrid how she always ended up with los Americanos… And, while I was riding there on the bus, the driver asked me jokingly whether it was my wedding...I told him that, no, I hoped I could at least afford to get there by car, or at least a taxi...



The Banco Nacional de Fomento (National Development Bank) por la noche