Cababarant

Photos from the 10-year-old

sheryl — Sat, 18 Aug 2007 16:21:00 +0000

My friend Martha reminded me that I haven't posted in a while, so to follow the 4-year-old's photo series, here's a Canary Islands horticultural series from the 10-year-old.

Are you hot... or fly?

sheryl — Tue, 24 Apr 2007 13:25:00 +0000

Okay this is hilarious-- it's kinda old, but I hadn't seen it before: a graphical analysis of Mims' "This Is Why I'm Hot". And you thought the lyrics were estupido!

So where do you fall on the Venn diagram of hot/fly?

Village Voice: Hot Hot Heat: A graphical dissertation on the number one song in America

Preschool photography

sheryl — Mon, 12 Feb 2007 13:25:00 +0000

The three-year-old hijacked my digital camera while I was on the phone. Here are some pics from the "series" that he shot while I wasn't looking.

"Toys"

"Favorite blanket"

"Remote"

"Phone"

"Crime scene?"

"Baby 'bludder'"

Reading

sheryl — Sat, 20 Jan 2007 19:17:00 +0000

You're never too young to learn about religious sects in the American West.

Merry Christmas!

sheryl — Tue, 26 Dec 2006 12:57:00 +0000

Here are some belated pictures from our trip to the Christmas market in the caves in the caves in Valkenburg (the Fleeuwengrote), whose history turned out to be more interesting than we expected. Happy Holidays!

Valkenburg (in Limburg, Netherlands) has a series of caves that are up to 1,000 years old in some places. They were mined for the rock within, which was used for buildings in the area. There are about 3 miles of caves under the town.

During World War II, American troops used the caves as a military hospital. Jews in the area also used the caves as a hiding place during the war. You can see American names and places throughout the cave; the soldiers wrote their names on the walls and the dates during which they were there.

The caves have a lengthy history as a hiding spot. There is one area turned into an alter; it was used by Catholics to celebrate mass during the French Revolution. They could not celebrate openly for fear of persecution.

Here is a market stall selling star lamps.

Hello Manatee!

sheryl — Fri, 15 Dec 2006 21:21:00 +0000

Here's my submission for Conan O'Brien's Horny Manatee site (if you haven't heard about it, read all about it here). I guess I'll check back and see if it makes it up to the site...

Links
Horny Manatee: www.hornymanatee.com, proudly owned by NBC
NYTimes: So This Manatee Walks Into the Internet

A bad slash

sheryl — Wed, 13 Dec 2006 19:03:00 +0000

Ugh, after spending a few hours not being able to publish on this blog, and no thanks to Blogger, I've figured out the problem thanks to another blogger: Blogger (the interface) added a little slash (/) to its Settings interface-- a slash that won't go away when you save your settings. If you are running into this problem, and experiencing 550 errors when trying to publish, type in a period into the FTP Path field, and your path will be just the way it used to be. No more slash! So once again, I'll be posting.

In the meantime, here's another site that is a great help with Blogger problems:
http://bloggerstatusforreal.blogspot.com

That time of year

sheryl — Sat, 02 Dec 2006 14:23:00 +0000

Just when I started thinking it was too surreal to be true, or perhaps that I just imagined it last year, it's Sinterklaas season again! The craziest part of it, of course, is Zwarte Piet, Sinterklaas' helper, the character that gives the Dutch cultural license to run around in blackface for several weeks. It's one of those things that other expats tell you about, and you don't really, honestly believe it until you see it for the first time. (Before that, I guess you can be considered a Sinterklaas-season-virgin.) I don't think it's something I'll ever get used to, but it's fascinating and horrifying all at the same time. (I wrote about Piet last year, which was my first year experiencing this weirdness.) We went down to Delft to get a taste of it once again, and sure enough, there were dozens of Zwarte Pieten running around.

The parade started innocently enough, with a typical marching band... (that's me and the little guy watching)

... then, hello, what's this? Blackface!

... then Sinterklaas, aloof on his horse with one of his 'helpers'.

The little guy (here on Daddy's shoulders) doesn't really know what to think about it, but at least he got some candy. (And yes that's a lollipop. No, my kid is not smoking!)

Links
My take on Zwarte Piet on Cababa.com, December 2005

Crash course: Dutch hospital care

sheryl — Thu, 09 Nov 2006 12:46:00 +0000

As a relatively healthy expat, having a baby means a sudden familiarity with hospital care in your current home country. Not only did I have a baby in the Netherlands, but we got an impromptu baptism by fire, of sorts, into hospital care when our two-week old baby (Little D) got horribly sick with a high 102 (38, in celsius) fever and had to be hospitalized for four days.

After having a cesarean at Bronovo, which went swimmingly, Little D and I stayed in the hospital for four days. I felt like I recovered a bit quicker because they left the epidural in for much longer than when I had a c-section back in Seattle, and I didn't have to take any oral painkillers afterward (in Seattle, after giving birth to the little guy, I was on codeine for a good week and a half). Other than that, basically the care was the same as back in the States.

We ended up at the children's hospital the following week, after calling the nurse hotline number. We told them about Little D's fever, to our surprise, they said "Go immediately to the Juliana children's hospital-- we'll call and let them know you are coming." This was especially scary because it is totally not a Dutch reaction to things-- we're used to the typical "tough it out" response for everything. We went straight away and noticed that the emergency room was empty and he was sent to triage right away. This is completely different from my experience at Seattle's children's hospital-- the middle-of-the-night crammed petrie-dish of a waiting room that is best avoided, in my opinion. The Juliana Kinderziekenhuis is really small, which I think is preferable for a children's hospital. After a botched lumbar tap by a resident in the ER (something you don't want to experience with your newborn!), Little D's treatment went much better, even though he had to stay four days. I had never been more worried; they kept him for meningitis tests and just to make sure the virus wasn't something life-threatening, which at two-weeks-old, any virus can be life threatening. (And there's nothing more worry-inducing than seeing your two-week-old with tubes in his nose and a giant IV in his little hand.)

The nicest thing about D's hospital stay is that we all basically got to stay with him: there is an eight-room Ronald McDonald house right in the Juliana hospital. This meant I could still breastfeed D in the ICU, and not have to be separated from my other kids and Kyle. Nothing makes you feel more separated from your family back in the States than an expat hospital stay-- it makes you feel really alone, especially if you have close relatives (my sis and my niece) and friends (our Seattle practically-family, my buddy Kay) in your hometown. So it helped for Kyle and the kids to be with us.

Lots of worried tears and prayers and four days later, we got to go home. D was diagnosed with an enterovirus that was not life-threatening (his first present from his older brother!), and we got to go home.

Recovering baby

The girl in the RMD House

Links:
Donate to the RMD House (a foundation I hadn't really considered until we needed it!)

Baby gear round-up

sheryl — Wed, 04 Oct 2006 08:20:00 +0000

So with kid #3 on the way in a matter of weeks (an October birthday), the gadget geek in me has been temporarily replaced with a baby gear geek. It's an easy thing to focus on, given where we live-- the Netherlands has a huge focus on well-designed (as well as expensive!) baby gear. Or, at least it's a distraction from the reactions of everyone we know: "Three kids!", with the expressions on their faces that say, "I didn't know people still had more than two kids". (Our environments are so different than where/when I grew up. I went to Catholic school in the Midwest where most of my classmates had at least two siblings, if not three. Seattle and the Netherlands are clearly neither predominantly Catholic, nor Midwestern.)

Anyway, Holland is a pretty sweet place for the baby goods. (And a good opportunity for us to avoid one of the most horrible U.S. superstores of all, the evil Babies-R-Us.) After all, this is the land that gave birth (so to speak) to the Bugaboo, the obnoxious chi-chi stroller that every B-list celebrity pushes around New York City and London. The temptation to get a Bugaboo is really strong (especially living here) but I'm trying hardest to resist because even with all the crazy cobblestone, I still can't bring myself to the conclusion that an 800 euro stroller is a reasonable purchase. (Yes, for those without children it's hard to believe, but some crazy parents -- many, in fact -- are willing to pony up to $1000 for a stroller status symbol). We already have a Quinny Zapp, which the little guy has already been using, and I think initially, we will just get a Cabrio carseat to set on the frame, even though there is no storage whatsoever, so forget parking the groceries in the stroller. I have a feeling that we will eventually end up with a beefier stroller, especially when the baby gets too big for the Cabrio carseat. Thankfully, there are lots of well-designed choices by Dutch companies like Quinny and Mutsy (which aren't generally available in the U.S.) as well as the British MicraLite. Any of these are worthy of making the design-conscious parent swoon.

The Zapp with a Cabrio carseat on it

I will rant about one that I see quite frequently here, though: the Stokke Xplory. This stroller makes me want to kick something. It is so ridiculous. It's like an office chair / pedestal with a baby teetering on top. And don't even get me started on the 900-euro pricetag. It makes the Bugaboo seem "reasonable". Doesn't matter. Stokke is after all a Norwegian company, so I can't really attempt to explain what they were thinking with this one. I guess I can forgive them though, because the Stokke highchair that I love (now renamed the Tripp Trapp) is a baby gear design classic.

Then there are the 'loopfietsjes' (little walking bikes, to translate directly), which are little pedal-less bikes designed for babies as little as one-year-old. These can also be purchased in the U.S. through companies like the German Likeabike, but they are incredibly popular here (and there are cheapy ripoff ones so you don't have to spend the equivalent of $250(!) on one).

Links
Daddytypes: Just another parent obsessed with the gear
Bugaboo: The one that started the stroller design revolution
Quinny Zapp: The easiest to manoeuver buggy around (in my humble opinion)
Micralite: Newer Brit stroller that is taking designerly parents by storm
Stokke Xplory: Stroller design gone kah-razy
Likeabike: wooden pedal-less bikes for babies (U.S. website)
Firstbike: aluminum pedal-less bikes for babies

NY Times discovers that the Dutch ride bicycles

sheryl — Mon, 18 Sep 2006 10:14:00 +0000

The most obvious story ever appeared in the Times the other day: Newsflash-- the Dutch ride bicycles! The article is all about how in the Netherlands, there are more bikes than people, that people ride their bikes everywhere and that they often times spend lots of money on bikes. I was looking for the actual piece of news, like "a new innovative type of bike takes Holland by storm", or "Dutch are putting motors on their bikes", but there was nothing like that in the article. Anyone who's ever been to Holland-- okay, anyone who's ever heard of Holland-- knows this already, NY Times! They also tried to make it newsworthy by saying bike sales are up because of the increase of leisure time and sensitivity toward the environment. However, there are no actual statistics in the article to back this up-- just a quote from some guy who spent $3000 to buy his daughter a bakfiets (basically a bike to haul your kids around in-- and that can be purchased for cheaper than that). Personally, I'm guessing that bike usage and purchase in the Netherlands has probably been consistently popular since, oh, bikes have been invented.

I think there are actually a couple of more interesting stories here. One, is that our friend Isaac told us that the weird thing is that suddenly everyone he knows back in New York is riding a bike. The other potential story I think, is the Dutch attitude toward bikes. We were leaving for school this morning and noticed all the teenagers headed to school on their bikes. The more perceptive observation is that no matter how cool, or stylish, the Dutch still all drive crappy-looking bikes. And are okay with it. I still haven't totally figured it out-- I know it has to do with practicality, as well as the alarming rate of bike theft in this country-- but it doesn't totally explain why even teenagers aren't driving hot trendy bikes and scooters. But, on the other hand, I have to really admire the attitude. There is something universal about a crappy bike: you can be rich or poor in this country, but the crappy bike is the Great Equalizer.

Row upon row of crappy bikes outside the Leiden train station

A reminder of what my own busted down bike looks like (albeit, a British bike)

NY Times: In the Netherlands, Life Runs on 2 Wheels (Sometimes 3)

Yes, I live in the Netherlands

sheryl — Mon, 11 Sep 2006 10:14:00 +0000

And yes, I have a third kid on the way (just a few more weeks and counting!). So does that mean we'll have to get one of these?

Spotted by Kyle on Noordeinde in Den Haag, so naturally he had to bust out the camera

I mean, I'm not Dutch, but damn!

Federer creams Roddick in U.S. Open: Okay, I think I'm done watching tennis for the year

sheryl — Mon, 11 Sep 2006 06:44:00 +0000

So no one has to put up with obnoxious tennis posts anymore. But I thought I would leave it off with some typical Federer quotes (from the NY Times article) after winning. I'm just waiting for "I'm King of the World!" to come out of his mouth. I mean, the man does not exactly have a flair for modesty.

Federer: "He [Roddick] had a terrible game; I took advantage," Federer said. "From then on, I didn't look back. I started to feel better, play more freely, and in the end, I played unbelievable."

Federer: "It's funny, you know, because many things were similar," Federer said. "He [Tiger Woods, who was sitting in the Federer camp in the stands] knew exactly how I kind of felt out on the court. That's something that I haven't felt before, a guy who knows how it feels to feel invincible at times."

Oh yeah, and what was with that? Why is Tiger Woods such a punk sellout? There he was in the stands, between those two blond European ladies (one of whom is his Swedish wife who symbolizes the "I'm-a-minority-who-has-finally-made-it" message loud and clear), cheering for the most dominant player in the game against an American on American soil the day before the anniversary of September 11th. Okay, I know the September 11th thing is a stretch. And I'm not a crazy freedom-fries patriot either. But to quote GOB Bluth, Come On! The dude was still in the Swiss guy's camp at the U.S. Open of all places. And who cheers for Federer anyway? I guess it's an invincible-guys-unite kind of thing: so happy together. Imagine me and you, I do, I think about you day and night, it's only right....

NY Times: Federer in a Class by Himself

It's us against the world!

Blake circa 1990

sheryl — Sat, 02 Sep 2006 18:50:00 +0000

Looks like I'm not the only one with an appreciation for Agassi's Nineties Bad Fashion Sense. James Blake, seeded 5th in the U.S. Open, wore an Agassi ensemble circa 1990, including hot pink spandex bike shorts. Awesome.

Unfortunately, no fake mullet to complete the look...

Here's the original:

I guess Blake decided against the matching hot pink headband.

Sports Illustrated: Blake pays tribute to Agassi

Agassi through the years

sheryl — Thu, 31 Aug 2006 08:58:00 +0000

In honor of Andre Agassi's impending retirement from tennis (and the frenzied coverage of America's 'living tennis legend') I thought it would be fitting to take a look at Agassi over the years.

Agassi gives the visual checklist to all his young fans for looking totally 80s:
1. Giant hair-sprayed mullet: check
2. BluBlocker sunglasses: check
3. Too-short acid wash jeans shorts: check
4. Spandex bright-colored bicycle shorts (worn under acid wash, of course): check

I think maybe the only thing missing are a layer of Jams bermuda shorts. Yeah, those were HOT.

I can't really say anything about this picture except for TRASHTASTIC!

Agassi's mullet gave Billy Ray's a run for its money.

Holy receding hairline! But at least he finally chopped off the "party in the back"...

....Andre then finally realized the "inconvenient truth" of his receding hairline and made the wise decision to go full-force baldy. With the mullet went the brash attitude, and Agassi finally became the 'zen' player he is today.

With wife Steffi (who, in contrast, has not changed at all over the years). We'll miss you Agassi, even if you did rock that mullet til it was good and dead. Don't worry though, we have fantastic Eurotrashy players like Rafael Nadal to take Andre's place in tennis' Bad Fashion Hall of Fame.

Links:
MSN Sports: Agassi Through The Years

Searching for answers

sheryl — Mon, 21 Aug 2006 09:02:00 +0000

By way of the New York Times and Slate, I have discovered the search query list of AOL users. For those unfamiliar with the story, AOL published the list of 20 million search queries on their research website, with the intent that it could be used for academic research. Bloggers complained that this was a violation of privacy, and that many search queries are enough to identify user's identities (the NY Times proved it by figuring out one user's actual identity just by way of her search terms), so AOL removed the data last week.

I'm trying to redesign a search-oriented user interface for the company I'm working for, so Search has been on my mind a lot lately these past couple of weeks. This AOL story piqued my interest. Sounds kinda boring, but once I went into the database, I found it to be one of the most fascinating timesucks I've discovered in a long time. You can search by term and phrase, so I tried some that I thought might have interesting results. Keep in mind though; one has to put their squeamishness aside when looking through the database because believe me, you will run into some freaky shtuff. (and it also makes you realize that for a lot of people, "porn" and "internet" might as well be the same word. Pornonet?) And Slate writer Paul Boutin is correct in noting that no one seems to know how to spell "bestiality". (Just to give you an idea of what many users' searches involve!)

Some of the search strings are really fascinating. They are literally windows into people's lives. Because you can search by user number, you can see a single user's history. I actually started feeling sad and hoping that some of these people had other outlets than just the search box.
User 711391, for example, at some point started the query, "had an affair with a man and he thinks i need him now" followed by "how do you break off an affair" to "cheating on your mate is a waste of time" to "how to move on after a break up". I found another user who suddenly started a search string for "navy getting land duty in iraq" and "whidbey island sailors being sent to iraq " followed by "how to quit the military", "leaving the military while enlisted", "legal ways to quit military", then once again, "sending sailors to iraq". User 1932438, I feel for you. I hope you figure out what you need to do.

Most of all, I realized that many people need life's answers from the Internet. The Internet is like the Kwik E Mart Guru on the Simpsons: no real answers, just "Thank You, Come Again!" But I'd like to think that maybe, just maybe, a lot of these searching souls' needs are at least a little fulfilled by simply being able to type their questions into that little existence-affirming box.

So here are some of my favorite queries:

The Practical-Minded:
what do wild ducks eat
how do I keep my slingback shoes on
what happens if you eat syrup everyday
preparing earthworms to eat
how do I prevent someone from parking way to close to my private driveway

The Crisis-Afflicted:
how do I live
don't know how I do it
why do I feel like I am going crazy
how do the kids and I cope after he has left us again
when a exboyfriend is still angry at you after you and him is broken up for years and i have 3 kids by him
i cheated on my wife and feel so guilty
why don't people like me how to make friends
my iguana has quit using her front legs

The Curious:
how do I look
why do cats throw up
does superman need to eat
why is pork shoulder also called pork butt

The Commanding:
Go eat breakfast

The Existential:
Why am I here

Links:
NY Times: AOL Removes Search Data On Vast Group of Web Users
NY Times: A Face Is Exposed for AOL Searcher No. 4417749
Slate: You Are What You Search

Brussels flower carpet

sheryl — Fri, 18 Aug 2006 09:04:00 +0000

We went last Saturday to see the famous flower carpet in Brussels. Every two years, designers create a gigantic "carpet" made out of begonias in Brussels' Grand Place. It is on display in August for only four days, so we felt like this is something we should go check out. The funniest thing is that when I told our friend Sonja (who was staying at our house that weekend) that we were going to go see the Flower Carpet, she didn't look that impressed until I showed her pictures in a guidebook. She was like "Ohhhh, it's made out of flowers!" Apparently she thought it was like a giant rug with a flower pattern that they roll out every few years, and was like, "what's so special about that?!" I explained to her that, uh no, it's not just a huge Persian rug.

Well it was even more impressive than I thought it was going to be, even though pictures don't really capture it. Nor do the pictures capture the crowds! Jeez, you had to stand in line for waffles, even!

The 'Tapis de fleur' from the ground
Here's a panoramic shot I patched together from a balconey view

We went up to the balcony in the Hotel d'Ville to get a better view.

And of course, no trip to Brussels would be complete without a trip to Pierre Marcolini for bonbons.

But the most interesting part of our trip was getting stuck in Dordrecht, Netherlands. We were taking the train back, and apparently, a boat took out a bridge between the towns of Dordrecht and Zwijndrecht, so no trains were going anywhere. We got off the stuck train and asked what we were to do next. The NS train employees weren't much help: buses "might be coming" to take us (and everyone else) across the river to Zwijndrecht so everyone can catch trains to their destinations. Not very reassuring. Then we saw the crowd waiting for the so-called buses:

After about an hour, ONE bus showed up and half the people rushed it. We were like, "no way" which turned out to be a good decision because within a half hour, there was another half-assed announcement by the train people that the train to Rotterdam/Den Haag/Amsterdam would be running again. So the dash to the platform started:

We managed to squeeze ourselves onto the next train (which was not easy!)...

And at least we got a seat in the train vestibule -- and believe me, in situations like this, people don't have any sympathy for a pregnant lady with two kids. Kyle and I were joking that maybe I should start "experiencing labor" and see if that makes a difference!

We were home in 45 minutes after that, but not before some jackass squeezed himself into the vestibule with a giant bike, poking a little kid with an umbrella while he was maneuvering his big stupid bike. (What an idiot-- there is a bike parking car on Dutch trains.) Then the mom of the little kid started changing the kid's diaper in the crowded standing-room-only vestibule. Ugh. The only thing missing was a bunch of livestock to really turn it into a third-world situation. Where were the chickens?

I think we learned our lesson. Next time we're driving.

Belated vacation pics

sheryl — Wed, 16 Aug 2006 10:02:00 +0000

Wall design in the unfinished chapel of the Batalha Sanctuary, Batalha, Portugal

Now that I've finally recovered from vacation, here are a few pics from our hot-weather trip to Portugal and Spain.

We started our trip in Batalha, Portugal which is about 20 minutes away from Fatima. Not only is it 20 minutes away from Fatima, it is 15 minutes from the freeway via a winding, carsick-inducing, hair-raising 2-lane road. The funny thing is that after the third time driving it, I was used to it -- but I still wasn't used to the way Portuguese drivers ride your tail the whole way up and down the roads. This is a view of the huge gothic Batalha Sanctuary, which is a UNESCO World Heritage site (and rightly so). It is literally the center of the town of Batalha.

Monks in the hedge garden inside the Batalha Sanctuary.

There were lots of visiting monks and nuns on tour in Batalha. In fact, the little guy was at one point acting like a real little brat at the sanctuary, crying, whining and acting up. Some visiting nuns ahead of us turned around and gave him a little medallion of Mary with a card attached (a very different reaction than laypeople usually have to the little guy's tantrums!). It so happened that they were a visiting group from a convent in Quezon City, Philippines of all places!

A nun doing the stations of the cross in the Fatima Sanctuary

Next up was Fatima, where we were in the region to see the holy sanctuary where three children met the apparition of the Virgin Mary in the early 1900s. A lucky coincidence is that we happened to be there on the 13th of the month: on the 13th of the months between May and October, there is a mass and procession at Fatima to celebrate the Virgin Mary sightings (which took place during those months in 1917. It was really incredible to see the crowds waving their hankerchiefs at the statue of Mary as it went around the sanctuary and back into the chapel, many of whom were weeping and weeping. It was something to behold.

Statue of the Virgin Mary during the procession on the 13th.

Wax limbs for burning at at the Fatima Chapel.
Outside of the sanctuary, there were lots of religious tchotchkes for sale, including giant candles and wax limbs for bringing into the sanctuary to burn in prayer. I guess the limbs are for praying for a specific body ailment. (It's things like this that make people think of Catholicism as freaky, I'm sure!)

After our pilgrimage in the northern part of the country, we headed south to the beaches in the Algarve. We were staying in the tiny town of Moncarapacho, which is less than 100 kilometers from the Spanish border. It was hot down there.

A road sign in Setubol.
The funny thing about this sign is that five minutes earlier, we were driving around Setubol (trying to find a way out) and we saw a little old man on the side of a very busy street pushing a wheelbarrow, slow as a snail. I guess it's enough of a problem for them to require a sign for it-- and you'd better not be caught pushing a wheelbarrow while walking your cow!

In the eastern part of the Algarve, many of the nice beaches are on sandbars. This is the beach at Santa Luzia, where you need to take a little 'Noddy' train to the beach. I haven't been much impressed with European beaches in the past, but the beaches we went to in the Algarve were excellent, with actual turquoise water, even. It made me forget that they are actually on the Atlantic ocean.

We went to Lagos, where the beaches sit between tons of rock formations. It was especially cool because you can take a boat ride with a salty old Portuguese guy who will drive in and out of the caves and point out how the rock formations look like Elvis and King Kong (I didn't agree, but hey, you just have to nod like, "Ah, yes, King Kong..."

On the little motor boat with the crusty old tour guide.

Eating biscuits after a morning spent swimming.

Next up was Madrid. We took, first, a long bus ride from Faro, Portugal, to Seville, Spain, followed by a trip on the AVE high-speed train from Seville to Madrid. Exhausting.

Garden at the Museo Sorolla

Most of my photos from Madrid are of our eating adventures (which I've posted over at Crispy Waffle) but we did hit some favorite spots, including the little Museo Sorolla which is a few blocks from where I once lived. It is the artist Joaquin Sorolla's house, transformed into a museum after his death, and is one of my favorite museums ever. It has many of the same qualities as the Mauritshuis (which is my all-time favorite): a relatively small space, both are old houses with intimate spaces for viewing large works. In addition, the Sorolla museum has a beautiful little Moorish garden, originally designed by the artist himself.

Of course, we had to go to the Prado and visit Las Meninas. There was also a great Picasso exhibit going on, which featured his series of Las Meninas variations, as well as other works inspired by Prado masterpieces. This, Los tres Musicos, was the little guy's favorite. He called it Robot Parade, after his favorite song from They Might Be Giants No! album. Clever, little guy!

One of the places we went was a convent where they sold various types of pastries. I had read about it somewhere-- one of our guidebooks maybe-- so we headed over there because it was close to Plaza Mayor, where we were getting some bocadillos calamares (Plaza Mayor is famed for its squid sandwiches). The convent is a "closed" convent, which means you can't see the nuns who reside there, so the purchase window was a weird spinning lazy susan, from which a disembodied voice took your orders. So bizarre! The pastries weren't that great, but the whole thing was crazy and weird, so it was well worth it. Unfortunately, I was laughing too hard to take a good photo of the lazy susan thing (I was struggling with my Spanish and the disembodied voice seemed to be losing patience with me), thankfully, my sister was able to snap a picture. The convent courtyard was surprisingly quiet-- a haven of silence in the middle of the bustling city.

The purchase window at the convent

A classically español tiled plaque in the convent courtyard

Hola Madrid

sheryl — Tue, 18 Jul 2006 07:41:00 +0000

We are now in Madrid after spending a fabulous few days in the Algarve, Portugal (I'll post more about that once I can post pictures). Although sad to leave the beaches, I'm happy to not have to struggle with Portuguese anymore (Fala ingles? Please?!) Tomorrow we will eat rice, something that, as a Filipino, I can only go three days without before I start going loco. Oh, and we took the AVE train from Seville to Madrid, and I have to say, it's much nicer than the shabby Thalys to Paris (although, sadly, nearly the same price. But we did get to watch that terrible movie Sahara. In Spanish of course. But I could still follow that Matthew McConaughey's capped teeth are freakish.) Anyway, chocolate y churros are definitely on the menu for the next few days.

Hunting for floss

sheryl — Sun, 16 Jul 2006 09:10:00 +0000

Do the Portuguese floss? I'm probably looking in the wrong places, but I've been hunting for floss for 3 days now with no success. I even went to LIDL. Oh well, thank goodness for toothpicks!

Blogging Batalha

sheryl — Wed, 12 Jul 2006 07:30:00 +0000

Okay this is my first time trying to blog from my mobile phone... So hope it works! I think I have to rely on Kyle for the first post, but that's okay.

We got into Lisbon yesterday (me, my sister Trish and our kids) and went straight to rent our car to head up to Batalha in the north. I was distracted while trying to figure out how to get our insurance covered by my Visa card - the guys next to me had a bigger problem; they drove all the way from Paris, and the guy at the counter was telling them they had to return the car in France only. Doh! Anyway, we got ours without a hitch, thank goodness, and headed out. The first thing I noticed is that the Portuguese drive like maniacs and that the road builders are obsessed with 6-street roundabouts, just to make things more stressful.

Batalha is a charming little town about 20 minutes from Fatima (where we were headed for our Catholic pilgrimage). It's near the A1, a major freeway, but is only reachable by a subsequent 15-minute drive over a winding mountain road, roadsickness be damned. We're staying at the Casa do Oteiro, one of the cuter (yet cheaper!) hotels I've ever stayed at.

The language barrier is a bit of a problem in these parts- English is not the strong suit of residents of a town only accessible by determined tourists and tour buses by the winding road. They give you the international "would you learn a word already" eye roll when you open your mouth and English comes out.

We went to the Fatima Sanctuary and will be back there tomorrow for their 13th of the month celebration (the apparition of Mary appeared on the 13th of the month.) It's fascinating - especially all the pilgrims walking on their knees to the chapel. The sanctuary feels sacred, but is surrounded by a commercial town built up around it. I'm glad we're not staying there and it makes Batalha seem that much more charming.

After Fatima, we did another "pilgrimage": the Pilgrimage of Pork. Mealhada is a town famous for its roasted piglets called leitao, so we knew we had to do the hour drive north to feast.

Guess what: it tastes just like lechon, the ultimate Filipino party food. But hey, I live in Europe where lechon is hard to come by - unlike Seattle where it just means a trip to Beacon Hill, 15 minutes from my house. The leitao was really good, but it's a long drive for some lechon!

Hup Holland

sheryl — Sat, 17 Jun 2006 14:08:00 +0000

World Cup update: Holland 2, Ivory Coast 0 in yesterday's game. The Dutch are starting to get more excited about the whole endeavor (yes, even in our sleepy neighborhood).

Kyle came home yesterday and started changing out of an orange shirt. I was like, "what are you doing?" He was like, "I just can't be wearing an orange shirt of all things on game day. Everyone in the country is wearing orange today!" Must have something to do with not wanting to look Dutch (a common concern). But of course you need the hair product for that.

World Cup ballyhoo

sheryl — Wed, 14 Jun 2006 15:15:00 +0000

So, across the border from the Netherlands, where I live, there is some sort of soccer tournament going on, but it's probably a small thing, no big deal.

Just kidding. To many Americans, the World Cup is barely a blip on the sports radar, but to Europeans it is a way of life. To be honest, I just can't really get into it-- even though Holland is one of the best teams competing (and by the amount of orange wear I see around here, I'm not sure why they don't just pave the streets in orange, for God's sake). And the name given soccer, "the beautiful game"-- what's so beautiful about writhing around on the field trying to get a foul called? The US has already disappointed me by losing their first round to the Czech Republic (and dashing my secret hopes for a 180-to-1 odds victory), so I guess I'll continue watching by rooting for my adopted home team.

Our neighborhood here is surprisinly quiet about the whole thing, at least compared to our old neighborhood when the European Cup was taking place two years ago. Every time there was a Holland game on, we would know by the airhorn response exactly when they scored. Even though that block was about 10 minutes away from where we live now, I'm guessing the football hooligan ratio is much lower on our current block-- either that or the expat ratio (including us) is way too high for any excitement.

I'm sure I'll have far more impressions as the tournament continues. In the meantime, watch this popular Ronaldinho clip that will blow your cleats off. What can I say? The ads are great. Joga bonito!

Links
Ronaldinho: Brazilian Ping Pong
Nike Futbol: Joga TV

Freezing

sheryl — Wed, 31 May 2006 14:18:00 +0000

I'm in London for business this week and it is blustery and cold. Why is it so cold?? Ugh, and I thought Holland was cold. Highs today are 17 celsius.

Overheard on the street:
Girl wearing parka: If this is what they call summer, they can kiss my ass.

Disgrace to my race

sheryl — Sun, 28 May 2006 09:34:00 +0000

So I'm sure no one outside of Milwaukee, Wisconsin has been following the case (or outside of Manila, Philippines), but the Calimlims, a Filipino family I grew up, with has been on trial for something, as a fellow Filipino, I find completely dispicable: they kept a Filipina woman, Irma Martinez, as more or less a maid, but more like a prisoner, for almost 20 years. The woman came over as an illegal in 1985 and worked for them as a maid until 2004 when the feds found out about the situation. The details are what make the case stunning: no one, not even their close friends, knew they had a maid living with them for 19 years. They essentially kept her as an indentured servant, paying her, at the most, $4,800 a year, and not allowing her to leave the house without permission, nor to be seen in public with them.

That's not even the worst of it. According to the trial coverage, Elnora Calimlim would not let Irma see a doctor even when she was doubled over in pain from irregular menstruation, saying that without a social security number she could not go to the doctor. Say what? And then, when they had parties (a couple of which I had actually been at!) she would have to stay in her basement room, which did not have a bathroom, for up to 8 hours at a time.

Milwaukee has a small, affluent community of Filipinos, most of whom are physicians. The Calimlims were both physicians and wealthy; in fact, they lived in a million-dollar home. These are Filipinos who have definitely made it. So for their friends, this case has been that much more shocking. How can they have done this to a fellow Filipina? How were they able to keep her secret from everyone?

When I look back, I know of instances that we just dismissed as weird behavior. My siblings and I once in a while hung around with Jeff (the son who has also been on trial for harboring, as well as lying to a federal agent when they came to get Irma out). The guy would never, ever let us in the house-- he would just run in and close the door behind him. We would joke around sometimes like "oh, one of us needs to pretend to need to use the bathroom" so we could get into the house, but even with that, no dice: he would just open the door and say "I'll be out in a minute." Ridiculous! But now all of this explains that, and it's actually kind of sad. In a way, the kids were victims of their parents' behavior-- because of their parents, they too, had to keep this secret that their parents convinced them was crucial. That said, it's difficult to feel any sympathy anymore. The kids are now grown, yet continued with this crazy secrecy that has now gotten the whole family into a boatload of trouble. In fact, this only became public because the son Jack's ex-wife, Sherry, felt that Irma was essentially being imprisoned by the family and notified the authorities. Any normal and scrupulous person would have to agree with her.

My mom said that her friends in the Filipino community have been shocked and disgusted by the Calimlim's behavior. They wonder how they could have done this to any human being, and to them, it's twice as bad because it was a fellow Filipino. To them, forgetting your people and the place where you came from is a crime in itself.

The couple, Jefferson and Elnora Calimlim, and their son Jeff were just found guilty yesterday. The couple will do prison time and ultimately face deportation. The irony is that they will now learn what it's like to be a prisoner.

JSOnline: Trial begins in servant case, Couple accused of threatening maid with deportation
JSOnline: Servant was called an aunt, witness testifies, Son's ex-wife says she notified federal authorities over woman kept in secret
JSOnline: Couple convicted of harboring maid, They face up to 45 years in prison, deportation