Friday, we were supposed to go to Montevideo to do the next (final) step in getting our residence established. I dressed for hot weather, and suddenly the weather turned foul - fast. Neighbors said later the wind speed was 100-140 km/hour (60-85mph). Rain was coming down in horizontal buckets; at one point we found ourselves in a white squall - looking out the windows all you could see was white.

And then, after an hour or so, it calmed.

I noticed the kitchen window was cracked. Amongst all the noise and thunder, we hadn't noticed this.



I stepped outside and noticed a dove had sought refuge; just before I took this picture it was sitting patiently with three streams of water from the roof pouring over it. A moment later it flew away.



And then I noticed the debris...



...which used to be the top to the roof water tank. One of our first moves here was to bypass the gravity feed and connect to city water. Not sure what to do with the tank...especially now.



A few roof panels had disappeared...pieces of the old asbestos material all over the yard.



My son and I ventured out - the street in front of our house had become a river.





Look closer and you notice a pine has fallen across the road a block away - only one of many, it would turn out.





These two fell on someone's house.



Particularly sad scene in a country where this used car is worth 5-10 times what it would be in the USA.



I took all of these photos within a few blocks of our house.

Meanwhile, at least ten inches of rain fell in an hour or so - our pool ended up overflowing.



A nearby street became a river.



But hey, at least we still had a street. A significant chunk of the Rambla in Atlántida simply went away. (Note: two days later, the road is almost operational again...it appears this has happened before.

...

Award Winners named for World No Tobacco Day in the Americas

SOURCE

And of course, the joke goes, it's a good thing he wasn't a gynecologist...

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Not so long ago, no doubt in preparation for the tourist season, a seriously destroyed Chevy Meriva appeared parked on the main drag in Atlántida, our little seaside town in Uruguay.



I'm sure there are others parked about, to remind visitors of the dangers of partying and driving. Or just being stupid under the influence of the sun.

However, there's a little subtlety here that I find amusing. You have to understand that, although this part of the world - Uruguay, with its gorgeous beaches - the Porteños (Buenos Aires, Argentina) and Brazilians and assorted Europeans are mostly tolerated for their 'summer' money (summer's coming very soon), all is not sweetness and light. The Argentinians in particular seem to leave a bad taste in the mouth of the Uruguayans.



So, when you look at this vehicle from another angle, you notice it's got an Argentinian license plate.

Nice....

This is the bike I bought yesterday. Six speeds, US$140 or so. More than in the land of the Untied Snakes, but not bad. Or maybe just that buying a $70 bike for $140 doesn't seem as odious as buying a  $15,000 vehicle for $30,000.

Anyway, here it is 24 hours later, at the repair shop associated with the place we bought it. When we bought it, it had a flat tire and they replaced an inner tube - pumping it up by hand - and managed to overinflate so it had a hella bulge that rubbed, on every revolution, against the frame. The front tire also had a bubble.

I had a hard time, in fact, riding it 16 blocks to the repair shop.

After a half hour or so, the problem was addressed - as was an incorrectly routed wire for headlight and taillight that rubbed in the tire and would have broken shortly.

After smiles and waves, I rode away, only to realize the rear wheel was totally out of round - thump thump thunp.

I took it back. Today's Tuesday. He wants me to come back Saturday. Why not tomorrow? Thursday? Friday?

Here, you don't ask. You buy shit, it's expected to break. And you're expected to wait patiently for it to be repaired. And not get so uptight about wheels that go thump thump thump.

That's maybe a small price to pay to be free of the subliminally broadcast fear in the land of the Untied Snakes, and the slightly more vouchable fear in South'o'border land, where the narcos are better armed than the local police, who are inevitably corrupt in any case.

Who knows?


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Dead stuff...







You never know what you're going to find.

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When you visit Uruguay, you'll notice the cars.

You'll see some incredibly crunk, instant-$200-ticket (in the USA) clunkers freely circulating.

Because cars are incredibly expensive.

Search for a 2002 Toyota 4Runner with 125,000 miles in the land of the Untied Snakes - $6-9,000? You'll find the same vehicle advertised for sale in Uruguay for $30,000 or more.

Have fun...

I'm not ready to document our attempts to buy a vehicle here (too close, too painful), so let me instead present some images - first, of a vehicle we spotted a few blocks from our house this afternoon - gotta love it:




Homemade pickemup, complete with sheet plastic rear window.

Here you can see vehicle we spotted in Montevideo a couple days ago - Citroën 2CV:



Ready for a road trip, eh?

Cute and funky, but this afternoon I saw the same (actually a 3CV) next to a MID-sized Toyota pickup - HiLux, I think. And look at the car to its side -even smaller. Shee-it! This is scary stuff!



On the interbalnieria - the four-lane 'freeway' - hahahaha - between Montevideo and oh-so-chic Punta Del Este - you'll find the vehicle on the right going 90 mph passing the vehicle on the left going 45 mph - which itself is passing bicyclists , wheezing motor scooters, and perhaps a horse and buggy. Not to mention pedestrians.

All for what it's worth, which probably ain't much.

Cheers,

Doug

We went to buy a bicycle - basic cheap beach cruiser, at Motociclo in Pando, Canelones, Uruguay: a store that sells motorcycles, household goods, exercise equipment, and and and. A sales girl jumped on us, answered questions, and wouldn't leave - though we were clearly undecided - until we said we weren't buying anything just now.

On the way out, I spotted a display of  coffeemakers - oh yeah, we'd been looking to buy one. I quickly picked one that would work - cheap (for here), and black plastic instead of the white that always stains. I looked around.

Not a salesperson in sight. (And not the first time this has happened.)

In the middle of the store - which is big, but not by American standards - toward the back were the cashiers, but they were busy doing something. Off to the side a couple other people sat at little booths - one might have been a cell phone place. But no sales person.

Suddenly a saleskid appeared, walking right past us to another customer who had just walked in. After a couple minutes, it appeared nothing was happening. He darted back toward the back of the store, then returned - I caught him and said I want to buy a coffeemaker. He took a note of which, and beckoned me to the side, to a computer terminal. He asked my cedula number - don't have one yet - then my name, then made a couple trips back to the display before finding the right item amongst the dozens of coffeemakers listed in the computer.

He then indicated that I should go to the cashier and await my summons.

The two cashiers were occupied with approximately nothing as far as I could tell. I waited.

After a few minutes, one called my name. I indicated that I would pay in USD, 29 of them. She then reached for a sheaf of plastic-enclosed lists, frantically searching for something. Finally she took my money, printed out a receipt, stamped it paid and delivered, and indicated that I should go further back to a counter in front of a door to the back of the store.

So I stood there, waiting, and waiting some more, while my son played around with some motor scooters parked nearby. Earlier he'd amused himself with an elliptical exercise machine while we waited for the cashiers to regain consciousness, and though I thought his performance quite amusing, with his hoody and cheap shades, apparently it didn't appeal to the Uruguayo temperament - the other customer in line was not amused. Eastern European almost.

Finally some dude appeared, skulked off with the receipt, and returned a couple minutes later with the coffeemaker in a box. And stamped the receipt 'EXPEDICION' - yes, this was becoming quite the expedition.

Then, on the way out the store, we had to stop for the security geek - very friendly, of course - to stamp the receipt yet again.

Getting the receipt home, I notice that it has actually been stamped five times - one slipped by me, I guess.



Contrast this to buying a coffeemaker at Slave*Mart in the Land of the Untied Snakes - you take your shopping cart to the aisle with cheap household appliances, grab one, wheel it - chakka chakka chakka - to the front of the store.

OUTTAKE: Last time I went to MallWart, I ended up with a crappy shopping cart, but realized with delight that the chakka chakka chakka of the fuckedup unround wheel presented opportunities - when bobbling, waddling specimens of Boobus Americanus hear that chakka chakka chakka accelerating behind them and getting louder, you can get some fun reactions. Incoming! Austin, Texas: I think this was definitely residual influence of the Dangus and Violator: let's not play by the rules, eh?

Anyway, chakka chakka chakka and you're into the annoying self-checkout lane in English or Spanish (wouldn't it be fun if it had a Spanglish option? Hey bitch por favor put your pinche dinero in the slot...).

The consumerist American way: soulless but efficient. The anti-consumerist Uruguayan way: soulless but tending toward maximum (non-productive) employment.

Different. Just different. I've acquired a laser printer and scanner, both anticipated (being as we're on 220v here). We're shopping for a vehicle - makes sense to buy new since used don't lose significant value, though new cost up to twice as much as the US and - get this - warranty on new cars is two years or 50,000 km - 30K miles! - because of the shitty quality of the Venezuelan gas they have here. Mucho sulfuro. Diesel even worse, I'm told...

...and the paperwork! It's easier to buy a house here than a used car....

Different, just different. My wife just said, can you believe we've been here only a week and two days? Almost not - today went to an expat lunch someone arranged, and it was already like hanging around with old friends.

Sorry if I'm blathering. Pretty crazy to just up and move to South America (from Mexico, through the USA), and suddenly you're there, and it pretty much works. Is there a message here?

Couple days ago, we had a dead seal washed up in the inlet - wind was howling, crazed windsurfers were flying...



The wind sandblasted the dunes.



Sand boards were not available for rent. Something about a howling wind, no doubt.



You can see how quickly the wind undoes the work of the Caterpillar D7 that plowed the sand around the day before.



Alas, tonight the beach is pleasantly empty, instant-meditation-sorta empty.

Someone remind me to take this same picture four months from now at 6 PM, when the Argentinians have landed en masse.....

Note to Dangus: this boring-pix-of-beach will be, I promise, a faster-passing fad than the interminable Mexico construction blogs, if only because even if I find it kind of boring, which I take as part of its charm.

Although...

Sand Moguls

No, not some sheiks in Dubai - that's a phrase my son used today - I walked as far as the sand mobiles, I heard at first, and wondered if Alexander Calder had been hanging around the beach. Turns out the North Carolina hill boy who learned to snowboard meant sand dunes.



Though I must say, where the sand has blown over the coast road, it could be mistaken for snow.



A Caterpillar D7 goes back and forward, plowing it uphill. It seems so crude and ineffective compared to the massive amount of sand the persistent wind has shifted -- when we left in July, the two lane road had been reduced to one by the shifting sand dune. When we returned this week it was completely impassable. But it will be clear for the returning summer hordes of Porteños - Buenos Aires dwellers.

We're here. Moved to South America, pretty much.

Some weeks or months hence, we'll expect a pallet of boxes shipped from Houston, but months of planning and re-planning and packing and repacking, worrying about cubic feet, crossing back over the border to collect shipped boxes and dealing with the officious dipshits on both sides of the border (Americans much worse), dog's weight (American Airlines check person really nice, allowing her to go despite maybe being a tiny bit over the limit that would force her into cargo), whether everything will fit in a minivan, the exact weight of the bags, airport temperature and whether they'll accept the dog on the flight...all done.

I took a nice nap yesterday, drifting in and out of pleasant dreams, something I haven't even been able to think about since July.