The Loud Americans

I humbly apologize to all US citizens.  We are vigorously reinforcing the stereotype of the loud Americans.  I wish it wasn't true, but there is no denying it.  We arrived at the Perito Morano glacier, and we immediately started cheering and shrieking with delight.  We waved our hands in the air and jumped up and down as the glacier calved and boomed and giant pieces of ice crashed into the fridged lake.  Everyone else on the viewing platform stood quietly, observing, taking pictures, and not moving.  We were a scene!  But at the same time, I wondered, why aren't these spectators more excited?

We had an adventure off-roading for 37 kilometers, boating across a lake and hiking to Chile through the Andes.  When we got within view of the border, we all started running and screaming to be the first one in the country.  OK, Adam did not partake in the running and screaming, but the rest of us did.  We were ready to push each other out of the way, so we could be in Chile FIRST.  We made quite the show, standing in both countries at once, kissing over the border, and eating lunch on the line.

The jokes ever ended, and we never got tired of them.  

"Mom, I dragged this log all the way from Chile to sit on.  I am not going to share it." 

"I can't reach the water bottle.  It is in a different country." 

“Where’s Dad?” 

“Oh, he's in Chile.”

It doesn’t matter where we go, the beach, the park, the waffle restaurant; we are loud.  We keep trying to tone it down, but so far, we fail every time.  Our children have accepted that they are loud Americans.  Adam and I have not… usually. 

The Green Helmet

We all made it to Lagos de Tres, and I got to enjoy
a moment without my helmet before the hike down.

Carmela and Sofia admit that my green helmet distresses them.  Isn't it my job as a parent to embarrass my kids whenever possible?  I remember being 8 years old and mortified by my mom's singing as she belted out the hymns in church.  Thank you Jesus for giving me this opportunity to horrify my kids!  Whoot! 

It is a novelty to wear a crash helmet in Argentina when the majority of bike riders, motorcyclists, and climbers keep their heads uncovered and unprotected.  On our treks in the Andes, I was the only person sporting head armor.  I get why people looked at my green beret first before bringing their eyes down to meet mine with a questioning look.  If I wasn't missing part of my skull, I wouldn't be wearing a helmet either, but I am sure glad I had mine.  

The trail one the left side of the hill in front was the last kilometer.
A lesson in switchbacks would be greatly appreciated!

It provided reassurance, especially during our hike to Fitz Roy, the "Half Dome" of Argentina.  The trail is arduous and crowded.  

The first 7 kilometers include 1200 feet of elevation gain, hardly preparing one to encounter the final vertical kilometer with another 1200 feet of elevation.  That last 100 meters felt like it was straight up.  There were places we had to use our hands and scale the rocks.  With one arm assisting Caleb, and the other flailing by my side, wearing the helmet brought piece of mind as we scrambled along.

 The view was spectacular, and I am proud of the kids for pushing on and getting it done. Carmela, our trekking champion arrived 20 minutes before the rest of us and kindly declared, "Yes Mom; your helmet is embarrassing, but I am glad you are wearing it."  Me too Carmela!  

Why are turnstiles so much fun?

Field Trip!

Since the kids are enjoying summer vacation and school doesn’t start until March 6, they spend a few hours every day in pain doing Mom homework.  It is the horror and suffering of being the children of a teacher.  Last week I assigned them all a standards based research writing assignment CCSS.ELA-LITERACY.W.4.2 on glaciers.  They watched videos, took notes, and prepared and wrote essays on glaciers. 

In the National Geographic videos, we learned about the Perito Moreno glacier.  It is the third largest glacier in the world, the largest glacier in South America, and the only glacier still growing in size.  Amazingly, it is located in our backyard.  We have a really big back yard.  It takes 2 days to drive from end to end.  I’m sure it could be done faster but our Chevy Manerva and three kids occasionally need to use the restroom. 

The videos and research reports prompted us to take this far and freezing field trip.  It has been an incredible experience to travel across the desolate lands of Patagonia.  The expanse is rugged with a paucity of humans yet bursting with wildlife. 

The glacier was incredible, beautiful, enormous and cold.  SoJo wanted to walk on Perito Moreno so badly, but you have to be at least ten year old to trek, and she was sorely disappointed.  THEN we found a drink in the restaurant that brought joy to the whole family – whiskey on glacier ice!  I had to take one for the team, and I ordered it – with an extra side of ice.  We were all excited to be eating the glacier, and SoJo’s blues quickly turned around. 

When we finished eating the glacier,  we walked down to Lake Argentina and picked up floating pieces of Perito Moreno ice, licked them, stomped on them, and threw them back in the water.  As we stomped, SoJo proudly announced, “I am walking on the glacier now!”  You go Girl!  Stomp your heart out!

Eggs Eggs the Musical TOOT!

We were following family tradition by boiling 15 eggs before our 9-day road trip to southern Patagonia and the Perito Moreno glacier. 

Adam’s mom will forever recall that prior to moving the family, from New Jersey to California in 1954, her mother, Carmel, boiled a dozen eggs.  When Grandma and Grandpa hit the road with all six kids piled in the back, Carmel offered the eggs.  No one was interested, so she ate one.  This scenario repeated over and over for 2 days until Grandma Carmel had eaten every last egg by herself. 

If the story ended there it would not have earned the legendary status it now holds.  

Unfortunately, those eggs did a number on Carmel’s digestive track, and she spent the rest of the road trip gassing out the family.  Adam’s mom still cracks up recounting the memory of grandma blowing it up in the car. 

What could be more fun as we traverse thousands of kilometers across the lowlands?  Can we live up to Grandma Carmel’s legendary status?  We are doing our best!

That's Argentina!

It's the little things...

SoJo and I love hot showers.  Even on sweltering summer days, we take hot showers.  Our house has a new tankless water heater, and unfortunately it only fires up for two minutes at a time before turning icy.  Taking a two minute shower is nearly impossible - even with two functioning arms!

The plumber came out and told us that it was a pressure problem, so of course, he removed the shower head.  How else could you solve the problem?  Now we have cold showers with one jet of water.  As Adam's dad likes to say, "That's Argentina!"

Our house keys also tend to be finicky.  I woke up on the morning of my first physical therapy appointment to discover that our family was locked IN the house.  We tried to escape through a window by removing the screen, but they were screwed on tightly, and we didn't want to cut our way out.  I dreaded the thought of having to message my therapist and tell her that I was locked in my house.  After 15 minutes of jingling and jangling the key in the lock, I got it to pop and open - and I made it to therapy on time!  Whoot!  The locksmith came out that day and replaced the lock.  So far so good!





We also have our very own "Old Faithful" that produces puddles in the kitchen from a cryptic source.  The washing machine might be the culprit, but we love it so much and don't want to mess with it or mention it to the owner.  She is such a sweet lady, and I can only imagine what she is thinking... The five loud Americans show up, and everything starts to break...



Finally, our sweetest invaders are the tortoises that live in the yard.  They are crazy smart and  love our cottage.  They are infatuated with it, and they know when the door is open.  As soon as we crack the portal to enjoy the outside breeze and bright sunshine, the tortoises come marching in.  They walk around the house, leaving a mess of dirt behind them, and try to hide in any nook and cranny they can find.  The kids are responsible for returning them to the garden, and five minutes after they are put in the farthest corner of the yard, they are back in the house. Adam named them "Turbo" (both of them have the same name).  Fortunately we don't mind it too much.  The biggest problem is my constant harassment of the kids, "Did you wash your hands?  Salmonella!! Tortoises have salmonella!!  You can die from Salmonella!!!  Wash your hands!  Don't put them in your mouth!"

Overall, we love our new casita.  It is the perfect size - small, maybe 600 square feet, and we savor it.  I am perfectly ready to downsize our Seattle house.  When I think about that 2400 square feet monstrosity I am overwhelmed.  It is such a relief to be able to clean our house in 30 minutes.  One bathroom is fine - why do we need three at home?  Two bedroom are great, why do we need 5 at home?  If the kids read this, they might disagree, although they do incredibly well sharing a room.  Caleb not only likes other people in the room when he goes to bed, but in his perfect world, he would have someone in his bed too.

Meet my new wife, Adam

Sometimes you have to wear underwear on your head...  Sometimes you have to cross-dress in your siblings clothes...
Sometimes you have to laugh.

AND sometimes you have to call your Man-Husband your LADY Husband on national television.  Yup.  That's exactly what I did for ALL of Argentina to enjoy.

When the newscaster asked me what we are doing in Puerto Madryn, I responded, "Mi marida..."  That should have been, "Mi marido..."  Marida isn't even a word, but it is taking the masculine word, marido, which means husband and turing it feminine.

We're just doing what we can over here to support gay rights!