(no subject)
In Mexico City. Received long-stemmed pink rosebud from the taxi driver upon arrival. Have checked into hotel, which is FAR and away the fanciest one I have ever ever stayed in. Have gone for a swim in the tub and nearly drowned in the deep end. Princesshood has its hazards, apparently.
Flying business class was fun. And now I am wiped out from all the luxury, so I will shortly attempt to brave the immense and intimidatingly fluffy-looking bed.
But before I crash in splendid estate, have an overdo update written on the plane.
After much eventfulness the day before, we all wanted to take it easy, so it didn't matter much that it was absolutely pouring rain -- really torrential spectacular tearing-down-the-chicken-wire rain. I spent most of the day reading and doing some much-needed research for my honors thesis. (Which, incidentally, has AGAIN switched courses and will now probably be about Ravel's "Chansons madécasses", accompanied by a mini-recital of the same. But we'll see.) I also got taught a card game which is a combination of Gin Rummy and Carioca and is lots of fun. It is traditionally accompanied by much drinking of Campari Sours. All in all not a bad way to spend a rainy day.
(By the way, the white thing under Washington's left arm is in fact Lulu the Canine Cotton Fluff.)
Patricia and Jose came over for tea around 7, bringing with them a batch of fresh sopaipillas. (A kind of light, crispy fried bread, which when topped with fabulous homemade marmalade were described by Stephan as "everything a jelly doughnut wishes it were." I don't like doughnuts much, and I loved these, so maybe he's right.)
They also brought the makings for yerba mate. which I had tried once before when Stephan and Jessey brought me the cup and straw and herb as a present. I wasn't blown away then, but obviously we didn't make it right, because this stuff was absolutely and intensely delicious. For anyone who doesn't know, mate' (MAH-teh) is a hot, steeped drink, sort of comparable tea but with a highly distinctive dark grassy flavor. It has somewhat less caffeine than green tea (i.e. very little indeed) and -- through some as yet apparently undetermined combination of chemicals -- gives you a totally different sort of buzz. I'm a hardened coffee-and-tea-drinker at this point, and it takes a fair bit of caffeine for me to feel anything besides yay-not-having-a-headache, but I instantly got the happy tingly-finger buzz that coffee gave me when I first started drinking it. And this was without even being able to finish my first cup.
You can make it with milk or water, hot but not boiling. You're apparently supposed to add lots of sugar (the tininess of the spoonful I put in got some raised eyebrows, and even then it tasted too sweet to me, but I'm hopelessly un-Chilean in this respect). It's a drink that's supposed to be shared; the herb can be steeped multiple times before it loses its flavor, so you're supposed to refill the cup and pass it around. We did this, and it was all very happy and companionable.
The drinking was accompanied by much talk about mate lore, none of it supported by anything but hearsay and anecdote. Variously: it's healthy, it cures cancer, it reduces appetite, it's addictive, it can cause temporary paralysis if you go out in the cold too soon after drinking it, but many people in Peru drink it while in the cold, so no one was actually too sure about the veracity of the paralysis thing, although they did quickly veto my suggestion that I go out in the rain and give it a nice rigorous scientific test by way of a barefoot puddle dance.
All these rumors, as well as the fact that I'm dimly aware that mate's becoming a hip drink in the U.S., put me in the mood to do some research. So I went and spent an hour or two on pubmed.gov reading through the abstracts of everything I could find that looked reputable and relevant, relaying my findings to Stephan as I went. (He was quite patient and amused by my sudden bout of biology-nerditude. God, I'm going to miss doing research for bio papers...)
There was an awful lot of inconclusiveness and equivocating disguised as concrete results, but basically I found that
1) it is NOT linked to an increased incidence of bladder or liver or pancreatic cancer in Argentinian male drinkers
2) it IS (like all other caffeinated substances) linked to low birthweights among the babies of pregnant women who drink upwards of two liters a day, as well as esophageal cancer in men who also drink upwards of two liters a day. [Note that this is far, far more than the vast majority of drinkers would ever consume. I drank about three ounces worth and that was plenty for the whole afternoon.]
3) It DOES have properties which decrease the buildup of toxic levels of nitrogen-based compounds and therefore may have a role in reducing the risk for certain kinds of cancer (though this may be a bit of a rainbows-and-kittens mentality).
4) Taken in great concentration in combination with other herbs including guarana (i.e. as a diet pill, which can have nasty side-effects for cardiac health, so don't do it) It MAY delay gastric emptying, allowing you to feel full longer if you drink it after a meal. Which might go a little distance towards explaining why it has a reputation as a popular drink to give to prisoners in really godawful jails throughout Latin America. And also why I couldn't manage a third sopaipilla. But I think the former is mostly psychosomatic (hot drinks are filling and comforting) and the latter is mostly unrelated (I was really full).
I also concluded that, like practically every other delicious, slightly self-indulgent thing from wine to salmon to mangos to chocolate to massages to hot baths to whistling a happy tune, researchers are falling all over themselves trying to prove that it has something to do either with causing or inhibiting cancer, and they're not really having much definitive success either way. Therefore (as with all of the aforementioned things) it's probably not going to hurt you to indulge in moderation, and might even help, so stop worrying and live a little.
To that end, I went to the artisan market the next day and bought a bunch of the special metal straws you use for preparing and drinking mate to give to various Minnesota friends as presents. I hope you'll enjoy. It's certainly awesome stuff on a cold day, and I suspect it's going to become a life-saver during finals weeks. Very cheering and energizing. Yay!
.... Hmmm. I can't remember if there was anything interesting after that. There might have been more card playing. Stephan and I stayed up until about 3 AM having a loooooong and somewhat momentous conversation, until a really loud burst of laughter/shrieking brought a mumbly Eric to our door to tell us that we had woken him up, and PLEASE to go to sleep now. I promptly got busy writhing with guilt and Stephan got busy telling me not to worry so much, and falling into these comforting and time-worn roles we both dropped off pretty quickly.
(Oh. And one more item. Stephan had been telling me for the past couple of nights that I SNORE. I was appalled, as I have been assured by quite a few people who ought to know that I don't. Turned out these people were right; for the past few nights he'd been hearing Ichita through the floor. Most impressive on her part. Also comfortingly vindicating on mine. Wahaha.)
We spent the morning packing. The torrential rain had reduced to a thin mist, and it was actually quite pretty outside, so Washington and Eric took me on a quick walking tour of the main part of the campo. This confirmed a suspicion gathered from peering out of car windows on the first and second days that this farm is a BEAUTIFUL place. My favorite bits:
-a eucalyptus grove, which after the rain smelled amazing
- wild orchids
- a hundred-year-old fallen oak
- a one-eyed billy goat and several pregnant nannies
- three adorable mutts frisking all over the place and being cheerful and doglike and muddy
- wonderful smell of rain on lentil fields
- wonderful smell of green growing things in general
- very large and noisy hens, one of whom had laid an egg which was handed to me to keep safe in my jacket pocket for a little while
- some alpacas and baby deer (sighted only distantly as we drove by on our way out)
Overall I really fell in love... tragically about twenty minutes before we had to leave, with no hope of taking photographs of any of the beautiful things to share. Dammit.
We all six drove into Chillan for a final lunch with Patricia and Jose (all the brothers had gone back to school/work). Patricia made a casuela, which is a delicious meat broth in which you cook various whole vegetables and chunks of meat as well as rice. There was also a bean salad, and bread, and pebre, and... I forget what else, but it was a nice lunch.
Then to the market to buy my mate straws and some clay cookware for Stephan to take to Houston and some of the absurdly delicious sausages (longaniza)they make in the Chillan meat market. Then back to the house to get Ichita, who had been taking a nap. Then to the train station for a round of goodbyes. Washington very kindly said I was welcome back any time.
The train ride was uneventful, except that the power went out for a little while, so we all sat in the dark playing Boticcelli for an hour or so. And something else happened or was said that I meant to write down, but damned if I can remember what now....
... Okay, this entry has trailed off into complete not-interesting-ness, so I think I'll end it now.
Flying business class was fun. And now I am wiped out from all the luxury, so I will shortly attempt to brave the immense and intimidatingly fluffy-looking bed.
But before I crash in splendid estate, have an overdo update written on the plane.
After much eventfulness the day before, we all wanted to take it easy, so it didn't matter much that it was absolutely pouring rain -- really torrential spectacular tearing-down-the-chicken-wire rain. I spent most of the day reading and doing some much-needed research for my honors thesis. (Which, incidentally, has AGAIN switched courses and will now probably be about Ravel's "Chansons madécasses", accompanied by a mini-recital of the same. But we'll see.) I also got taught a card game which is a combination of Gin Rummy and Carioca and is lots of fun. It is traditionally accompanied by much drinking of Campari Sours. All in all not a bad way to spend a rainy day.
(By the way, the white thing under Washington's left arm is in fact Lulu the Canine Cotton Fluff.)
Patricia and Jose came over for tea around 7, bringing with them a batch of fresh sopaipillas. (A kind of light, crispy fried bread, which when topped with fabulous homemade marmalade were described by Stephan as "everything a jelly doughnut wishes it were." I don't like doughnuts much, and I loved these, so maybe he's right.)
They also brought the makings for yerba mate. which I had tried once before when Stephan and Jessey brought me the cup and straw and herb as a present. I wasn't blown away then, but obviously we didn't make it right, because this stuff was absolutely and intensely delicious. For anyone who doesn't know, mate' (MAH-teh) is a hot, steeped drink, sort of comparable tea but with a highly distinctive dark grassy flavor. It has somewhat less caffeine than green tea (i.e. very little indeed) and -- through some as yet apparently undetermined combination of chemicals -- gives you a totally different sort of buzz. I'm a hardened coffee-and-tea-drinker at this point, and it takes a fair bit of caffeine for me to feel anything besides yay-not-having-a-headache, but I instantly got the happy tingly-finger buzz that coffee gave me when I first started drinking it. And this was without even being able to finish my first cup.
You can make it with milk or water, hot but not boiling. You're apparently supposed to add lots of sugar (the tininess of the spoonful I put in got some raised eyebrows, and even then it tasted too sweet to me, but I'm hopelessly un-Chilean in this respect). It's a drink that's supposed to be shared; the herb can be steeped multiple times before it loses its flavor, so you're supposed to refill the cup and pass it around. We did this, and it was all very happy and companionable.
The drinking was accompanied by much talk about mate lore, none of it supported by anything but hearsay and anecdote. Variously: it's healthy, it cures cancer, it reduces appetite, it's addictive, it can cause temporary paralysis if you go out in the cold too soon after drinking it, but many people in Peru drink it while in the cold, so no one was actually too sure about the veracity of the paralysis thing, although they did quickly veto my suggestion that I go out in the rain and give it a nice rigorous scientific test by way of a barefoot puddle dance.
All these rumors, as well as the fact that I'm dimly aware that mate's becoming a hip drink in the U.S., put me in the mood to do some research. So I went and spent an hour or two on pubmed.gov reading through the abstracts of everything I could find that looked reputable and relevant, relaying my findings to Stephan as I went. (He was quite patient and amused by my sudden bout of biology-nerditude. God, I'm going to miss doing research for bio papers...)
There was an awful lot of inconclusiveness and equivocating disguised as concrete results, but basically I found that
1) it is NOT linked to an increased incidence of bladder or liver or pancreatic cancer in Argentinian male drinkers
2) it IS (like all other caffeinated substances) linked to low birthweights among the babies of pregnant women who drink upwards of two liters a day, as well as esophageal cancer in men who also drink upwards of two liters a day. [Note that this is far, far more than the vast majority of drinkers would ever consume. I drank about three ounces worth and that was plenty for the whole afternoon.]
3) It DOES have properties which decrease the buildup of toxic levels of nitrogen-based compounds and therefore may have a role in reducing the risk for certain kinds of cancer (though this may be a bit of a rainbows-and-kittens mentality).
4) Taken in great concentration in combination with other herbs including guarana (i.e. as a diet pill, which can have nasty side-effects for cardiac health, so don't do it) It MAY delay gastric emptying, allowing you to feel full longer if you drink it after a meal. Which might go a little distance towards explaining why it has a reputation as a popular drink to give to prisoners in really godawful jails throughout Latin America. And also why I couldn't manage a third sopaipilla. But I think the former is mostly psychosomatic (hot drinks are filling and comforting) and the latter is mostly unrelated (I was really full).
I also concluded that, like practically every other delicious, slightly self-indulgent thing from wine to salmon to mangos to chocolate to massages to hot baths to whistling a happy tune, researchers are falling all over themselves trying to prove that it has something to do either with causing or inhibiting cancer, and they're not really having much definitive success either way. Therefore (as with all of the aforementioned things) it's probably not going to hurt you to indulge in moderation, and might even help, so stop worrying and live a little.
To that end, I went to the artisan market the next day and bought a bunch of the special metal straws you use for preparing and drinking mate to give to various Minnesota friends as presents. I hope you'll enjoy. It's certainly awesome stuff on a cold day, and I suspect it's going to become a life-saver during finals weeks. Very cheering and energizing. Yay!
.... Hmmm. I can't remember if there was anything interesting after that. There might have been more card playing. Stephan and I stayed up until about 3 AM having a loooooong and somewhat momentous conversation, until a really loud burst of laughter/shrieking brought a mumbly Eric to our door to tell us that we had woken him up, and PLEASE to go to sleep now. I promptly got busy writhing with guilt and Stephan got busy telling me not to worry so much, and falling into these comforting and time-worn roles we both dropped off pretty quickly.
(Oh. And one more item. Stephan had been telling me for the past couple of nights that I SNORE. I was appalled, as I have been assured by quite a few people who ought to know that I don't. Turned out these people were right; for the past few nights he'd been hearing Ichita through the floor. Most impressive on her part. Also comfortingly vindicating on mine. Wahaha.)
We spent the morning packing. The torrential rain had reduced to a thin mist, and it was actually quite pretty outside, so Washington and Eric took me on a quick walking tour of the main part of the campo. This confirmed a suspicion gathered from peering out of car windows on the first and second days that this farm is a BEAUTIFUL place. My favorite bits:
-a eucalyptus grove, which after the rain smelled amazing
- wild orchids
- a hundred-year-old fallen oak
- a one-eyed billy goat and several pregnant nannies
- three adorable mutts frisking all over the place and being cheerful and doglike and muddy
- wonderful smell of rain on lentil fields
- wonderful smell of green growing things in general
- very large and noisy hens, one of whom had laid an egg which was handed to me to keep safe in my jacket pocket for a little while
- some alpacas and baby deer (sighted only distantly as we drove by on our way out)
Overall I really fell in love... tragically about twenty minutes before we had to leave, with no hope of taking photographs of any of the beautiful things to share. Dammit.
We all six drove into Chillan for a final lunch with Patricia and Jose (all the brothers had gone back to school/work). Patricia made a casuela, which is a delicious meat broth in which you cook various whole vegetables and chunks of meat as well as rice. There was also a bean salad, and bread, and pebre, and... I forget what else, but it was a nice lunch.
Then to the market to buy my mate straws and some clay cookware for Stephan to take to Houston and some of the absurdly delicious sausages (longaniza)they make in the Chillan meat market. Then back to the house to get Ichita, who had been taking a nap. Then to the train station for a round of goodbyes. Washington very kindly said I was welcome back any time.
The train ride was uneventful, except that the power went out for a little while, so we all sat in the dark playing Boticcelli for an hour or so. And something else happened or was said that I meant to write down, but damned if I can remember what now....
... Okay, this entry has trailed off into complete not-interesting-ness, so I think I'll end it now.