Asados and dumpster diving

Ritter beating the heat in his makeshift pool

Dylan beating the trash bin

Cheri writes…
The weather here has warmed up enough and the wind has subsided enough to finally get out and really enjoy the great outdoors. While Dylan was off trekking to Tronador, I stayed in town and hoped that something fun would come our way. Lo and behold we got invited to go to an “asado” (BBQ) by a lake with the church we have recently started attending since our move to the barrio. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but packed up what I thought would be needed and the pastor was kind enough to pick us up so we wouldn’t have to cart it across town. Being “car-less” does have it’s advantages such as keeping in shape by walking, but being solo with kids carrying stuff makes it quite a bit harder. We arrived at the appointed time (9am) and of course since we are in Latin America, we function on Latin time which means everyone else arrived at 10am, leaving by 10:40am and getting to the lake by 11. Slowly and begrudgingly I am adapting to this time shift, but my Type-A personality really fights this losing battle.
We pile into a car and head off to a lake about 20
Lago Mascardi is gorgeous with it’s striking peaks all around, lush woods, crystal clear water and beaches with smooth-ish stones to lay on. There are about 30 people in all from the church that have come. The men get busy building the fire for the parrilla and the women are trying to lather the wriggling kids with sunscreen before they reach the cold water. Once Amelia was down for what I was hoping was going to be a long nap, I got in for a swim and though it was very cold, I eventually was numb enough to enjoy the deep, clear water. Ritter was content playing with his pail and shovel with the other kids trying his best to communicate despite the language barrier. Kids are hard enough to understand at that age, let alone in a foreign language, so Kudos to him for keeping at it. Amelia woke up shortly after that (so much for the long nap), but the women were so happy to pass her around, wiping up her spit and making her laugh. Lunch was then served and I realized it was like no other picnic I had ever been to. There were massive, football sized slabs of beef, various kinds of sausages and other things that I didn’t fully recognize. What they call a “sandwich” was merely a hogie roll sliced open and a chunk of meat slapped inside. I’m sure this sounds like a vegetarian’s nightmare, but it was really quite good. The only kicker is that the meat included the tendons, ligaments, grizzle and who knows what else so it was a real challenge to tear off edible pieces. No one else seemed to mind, so Ritter and I fought the good fight and had fun doing so. There were also salads of all kinds which were fun to try and lots of soda to wash it all down. And of course no asado would be complete without the national drink of Argentina- mate. Despite the heat of the day, they still fired up their kettles and passed around the mate with the bombilla (metal straw), sipping what smells to me like an ashtray. Needless to say, I did not give in to the peer pressure, giving the excuse that I was breastfeeding and I didn’t want the caffeine to keep her up all night (half excuse, half truth because some Argentine women say that babies need healthy doses of both milk and mate to succeed in life).
Anyway, it was a great time that we all enjoyed. Hopefully they will do it again next month and Dylan can join us. Speaking of Dylan…… he earned some serious man points this morning as he tackled a very undesirable task. Our apartment is right next to the concrete trash bin that is starting to really reek now that summer has arrived. People should put their tied trash bags in the bin rather than just throwing loose trash inside so the trash-picker-uppers can just grab the bags and go as there is no trash truck that lifts and dumps like in the states. So this trash bin is about three quarters full of loose, decomposing, maggot-filled, mouse-inhabited, fly-swarming trash that leaves no room for the actual bags of trash to fit inside. The smell reminds me of our ministry to those that live on the city dump in Quito, Ecuador. Dylan said it reminds him of the open sceptic river of the Burigange River in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Either way, it’s pretty rancid. A while back I was convicted to attack and clean it (again, my Type-A personality!), putting all the loose trash in bags so that the trash guy could pick it up. Dylan had the same conviction, though neither of us mentioned it because secretly neither of us wanted to do it (obviously). Then, however, Brandon came to visit and he suggested us doing it as a way to serve our neighbors and set an example of Christlike servanthood. So, it was confirmed and we decided to buy some trash bags, gloves and get to work. All in all, it took a few hours and right at the very end one of our neighbors actually came over to help and sopped up the super nasty funk at the bottom. Our actions not only stirred up our neighbors, but also the newly evicted mice as two ran immediately ran into our house and had us chasing them around. Never a dull moment here in the barrio. Stay tuned for more stories later…..