Showing posts with label gringos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gringos. Show all posts

Sunday, May 31, 2020

Gringo Poem

Sandwiches to distribute to street people in need. Quito Second-hand offers excellent condition items.

Laptops, Canadian money and withdrawals, treadmill. Large dog, found near Feria Libre.

I'm looking for turmeric as a supplement or pill.

Danny's Computer Service. Is an End of Life document necessary?

Need your knives and scissors sharpened? The best New York cheesecake in Cuenca.

For sale, small couch, Peach-Skin Midnight Fantasy Comforter, Duglis.*

Brand-new disinfection trays for home or businesses. Stay safe and clean. Warmth and comfort. Desinfection alcohol and antibacterial gel. KN95 masks.

Recommendation for Diana Vera, facilitator. Are you in for a treat?

Craft beer: growlers and four packs.

Mexican food: tacos al pastor, gringas and more delicious options. Have you tried our bagels yet?

El Rey del Burrito, the best Mexican food. Nuts for delivery.

Cuchi Suco BBQ pit is back.

Cozy, fully furnished one-bedroom apartment with balcony. Sourdough bread.

 

* Footnotes. (This will be on the test.)

Question: I want to light my 4×2×2 with T5 and LED, and to mitigate cost I want to do a little DIY. I have three ideas and am looking for advice or reviews. — Duglis

 

Possible answers:

(1)  Are you Duglis the Immortal?

(2)  What type of name is Duglis?

  • I'm not sure
  • Boy's name
  • Girl's name
  • Boy's or girl's name
  • Last name or family name
  • Pet
  • Food
  • Pet food
  • Fet pood
  • Poopoo
  • You-know-who
  • Other (Example: How difficult is it to pronounce Duglis? Another example: Do you ever have pains in all the diodes down your left side?)

(3)  How unique is the name Duglis? Out of 6,028,151 records in the U.S. Social Security Administration public data, the first name Duglis was not present. It is possible the name you are searching has less than five occurrences per year.

(4)  Weird things about the name Duglis: Your name in reverse order is Silgud. A random rearrangement of the letters in your name (anagram) will give Isuldg. How do you pronounce that? Go ahead. Just try.

(5)  But again, I do not know how you feel about it, but you were a female in your last earthly incarnation. You were born somewhere around the territory of USA South-Central approximately on 750. Your profession was entertainer, musician, poet, and temple-dancer. You always liked to travel, to investigate, could have been detective or spy. You should develop self-love and ability to implant hope into hearts of people. Ambition is not everything. True wealth is buried in your soul. Dig for it, Babe. (Click to save the high quality version of yourself.)

 

Yes — "Desinfection." I don't know either.

 


Recently found lint on the ceiling. Didn't realize I was looking at the floor. All OK now.
Comments? Send email to sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
See if that helps. (The commenting system quit working for some reason.)

Thursday, May 28, 2020

Post Of The Wild Gringo

We present you with a win, win, win, today only, only, only.

Language exchange is looking for a Dr. that is a specialist in treating sciatica, and hopes to import my US stuff to EC.

But Albert, well...Albert is as Albert does, which is shipping belongings to US, and so looking for XL bike, or looking for Pimsleur Spanish Level V, whichever arrives most intact or smells better.

Pet service!

Are you where you want to be for the second wave? Just ask for Bonobo Bob's Devil's Kiss craft shrub cocktail.

But lovers of ear, nose and throat Dr. beware: Nuts for sale, updated.

Meanwhile, the best New York cheesecake in Cuenca arrives on cue via Nathaly Vivas, personal chef, food delivery, and her Four Types Of Motion Sensing Lights.

Cameron Kayce, massage therapist, is open for business and offers domestic cleaning of your Yali, if you have one. Services provided exclusively by Manual Manuel's Digital Manipulation Services.

Well! No cover.

For sale or rent: Ladder, aluminum, 5-step (three up, two down).

Fresh chickens, fresh roses, fresh red hot chilis. Fresh wife not included.

The Birds of Ecuador — Field Guide — hard to find. 740 pages $35. Free clues, but bring your own feathers and magnifying glass.

Two older Roku units, slightly impressionistic. Cranky on Thursdays. Will trade for specific aromas or a slightly used syllogism.

Bar stools, complete with shoe disinfection trays. Brand-new. Stay safe and clean while drinking.

Nuts sale. (Again.) No other information available during daylight hours.

Roasted pig delivery. El Jardín Restaurant — Ask for Hornado. Will perform tricks for donuts.

Even kids with chicken pox love hot dogs at The Good Life Cafe, but sourdough comes in different flavors and is mostly not contagious and can be fun as well if you have some imagination. No kids allowed.

Extreme desserts: Breads, Bagels, and Biscuits delivered to you in Cuenca from a modern house with small garden in gated community. Watch for snipers.

Fully furnished apartment, 13 BR — 12.5 baths. Near earth orbit. Remigio Crespo and Solano across from the fulminating giant tunafish. Tell them the virus sent you.

Which reminds us of something...Ah, yes...Covid-19 plasma donations gladly exchanged for expiring/expired visas. Extra credit if they smell like catnip, or you do, or are lickable.

That's all for now. Remember to brush your pants.

 


Comments? Sure. Unless the comment system is out again.
Then send email to sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
See if that helps.
Currently, me...Washing wheat the Wild West Way.

Wednesday, November 7, 2018

Esther's Reflexology Garage

Starting next Thursday, Reflexology therapy is now available at Esther's Beauty Garage. Or will be next Thursday. At Esther's Beauty Garage. Next Thursday. Got it? At Esther's.

Esther is big on Reflexology. It's a thing. Reflexology resembles Plumbing Therapy®, in which a sensitive pudgy guy with a prominent butt crack thoughtfully massages your home's pipes to relieve leaks, squeaks, squawks, and creaks, without the inconvenience and associated high costs of having a plumbing license, business license, or anything other than a butch butt crack. Like Esther. She's butch too, Esther is, and she can reflex like crazy.

What is Reflexology anyway? It's a thing. That's about all anyone knows, so let's ask WonkyPedia. The WP knows all, eh?

  • Reflexology is one of the most used alternative therapies in Denmark. (Wherever Denmark is, and does it actually count?)
  • There is no consensus among reflexologists on how reflexology is supposed to work. ('K...Check.)
  • Reflexologists posit that the blockage of an energy field, invisible life force, or Qi, can prevent healing. (Invisible! Qi? Quiche? Cheese? What?)
  • ...no evidence found to support the use of reflexology for any medical condition. (Jeez — not again. Not this too...)

But a couple years back the Australian Government Department of Health & Stuff reviewed 17 alternative therapies to determine if any were worth paying for. Reflexology was in there but no one could figure out what it was, so at that point they all went out for cookies and beer.

All fine by us. If the cat lady down the block thinks it's a good deal, WTF then, I'm easy.

Come live the ultimate body care experience with Esther. Her reflexology massages will make you feel beautiful and healthy from the inside out. Different massages will make certain parts of your body feel a lot better.

Probably, especially if you catch Esther within a day or so after her monthly bath, and ask her for "The Special".

Do you want to try it? Just call Esther, she lived many years in the US and speaks English, so she'll be able to understand your needs.

Woof!

Bajada del Padrón 4-07 and Calle Larga, in front of Hostal Casa del Río. Monday to Saturday, 9 AM to 6 PM. Look for something resembling a garage. That will be Esther. Come prepared for a little friendly arm wrestling.

P.S.: How about a spring tuneup?

  • Have your muffler probed for pests.
  • Tinkle therapy by request.




Comments? Send email to hoofist@nullabigmail.com

It may or may not help.

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

No, it's watermelons this time. For sure.



GrumpyPost

Surlandia's Best Gringo Forum, More Or Less.

Recent topics.


Subject: The new US $

Jim Wigglie (one of my favorites) has spoken of the dual currency coming up in the near future for the US.

The domestic version he calls the shises dollar. He says we'll get a 30% devaluation out of the gate, and more later. So. My question is, will we use that domestic $ or the international version here in Surlandia?

Also, what form will the international $ be? Gold backed? The petro $ is failing. That we know.

Jack / Tuesday, February 28, 2017


3 comments on GrumpyPost


Ken * 15 minutes ago

Jim Wigglie's sole goal in life is to scare you into buying physical gold and silver. Nothing more.

Dual Currency? Petro Dollar Falling? Shises Dollar? International Dollar? You got sucked in. How much have you spent buying Gold and Silver through his website?

"How do we know the Truth? Jim told us!"


Richard * 16 minutes ago

Did Jim Wigglie also predict when the Mothership will arrive to save us? Or do we just drink the Cool Aid now?


Juts Liek * 24 minutes ago

True fact: Everyone who predicts the future is right 100% of the time, so let's all run for the hills right now. Meet in the park at noon.

Bring only what you can carry, plus a knife. Or a teddy bear if that's all you have. (We need snuggles too.)

And snacks, if you gottem. (I for one am always hungry in situations like this.)

The rumor I heard is that the new currency will be marbles. Got any? If so, keepem. Whatever happens, everybody, DON'T LOSE YOUR MARBLES!

Yow!!!!!!, etc.

And, as always, keep humming this handy refrain:

When in trouble,
When in doubt,
Run in circles,
Scream and shout.

This works like a charm, guaranteed.

P.S. Don't forget to meet in the park at noon. Wear a sock over your head so we can identify you. The rest of us will be standing by the tree (the one that looks like a tree).

Bye for now.


Comments on this topic now closed.

And not a moment too soon.

Go away already. Scat!

Sunday, March 6, 2016

US Ambassador Locates Ecuador

For U.S. Ambassador to Ecuador Watt C. Muffly, it's all about relationships and opportunity.

Apparently. That's what he says.

The new U.S. Ambassador to Ecuador speaks softly and has an easy smile that generally makes him immediately approachable, but today it's somewhat different. He's still speaking softly but (for a while) his tone was uncertain, evidencing perhaps a slight amount of trepidation. Perhaps confusion. Disorientation. He was not exactly sure where he was, exactly. For a while.

True, the Ambassador has heard of Ecuador, a smallish country sitting on the left shoulder of South America, and did know that he had been posted there, and was sure that his plane had been pointed in that direction. But he wasn't sure that he had actually arrived.

The map, his map, didn't seem to match up with anything he saw, which was initially somewhat confusing.

But this was all straightened out when he turned the map over, and then things got even better when he put north back where it belonged — on top. Everyone sighed. Some with relief.

According to those who know him, the Ambassador is is the kind of man you would invite to dinner at your house, just because you know he would be a good addition to any mix of company. Which may be why he got the job. Or maybe his map-reading skills indicated that a posting to France could be problematic for various reasons.

Anyway, he's here (or there, depending on where you're standing at the moment), and things are looking better now.

Last week the Ambassador was in Cuenca, a city known as a U.N. World Heritage site, due to its funky old buildings, and also known as possibly the cleanest city in all of Latin America, and the one with the best drinking water. All good things.

Once in Cuenca, the Ambassador introduced himself to local authorities, expats, and members of the news media while becoming more familiar with the city. By stepping in a pile of dog excrement. Which happens, even in Cuenca, because clean is a relative ranking, compared to other places, which can be much worse.

But it happens. You have to get past it. Which he seemed to do by way of a short hop following a brief utterance. Before wiping his shoes on the mayor's lawn.

Coincidentally, and possibly felicitously, Cuenca Mayor Marcelo Cabrera was traveling, out of town at the time, so no one other than second-rank flunkies saw any of this, and an introduction to the mayor will have to wait for another time.

This is also good, most likely.

Other than that event, as noted, the Ambassador said that he has had a smooth start in building those relationships that he views as critical to his work. The prefect and the governor presented me with no complaints, he said, smiling with a satisfaction that presumably represents his government's views about right and wrong.

I really tried to get them to tell me if anything was not going well, and they said 'no, the American expats who have settled here are all great — they seem to do nothing but eat, and deposit gobs of money from their retirement checks, right here in and around our city streets, and since they had to leave their guns at home, we mostly don't fear them so much any more'. And that's wonderful to hear — just the way we like it, the Ambassador concluded, pretty much amicably.

In an expat media interview Saturday morning, Ambassador Muffly continued to express his approval, suggesting only that U.S. citizens could advance the work of the U.S. State Department a bit by integrating themselves even more into the city and its efforts at improving education, health, the stray dog situation, whatever, like helping to fix up some of these old buildings, maybe getting a Walmart or two out there — that sort of thing. Couldn't hurt, as long as we bring here only the best that American culture has to offer.

Also, of course, whenever anyone coming to a new country experiences things that are a bit different or that we don't like, the Ambassador said, continuing to wipe his shoe after moving to a fresh patch of lawn.

I would hope that expat media would not use its platform for complaining about Ecuador. Saying 'why don't they have this here' or 'why don't they do that' makes our job as relationship builders more difficult, he said, seeming to be only slightly distracted by this time.

And now, a full two weeks after arriving, how does Muffly feel about his new posting to Ecuador?

I'm excited. Terrifically excited. Really. I am. Just going on a brief walk around Quito (where the Ambassador resides) I found two shoe shops that carry footwear in my size. I can't wait to get back there and do some serious buying, he said, shaking his left foot as he spoke, perhaps unconsciously. I'm definitely not looking backward, or downward, only forward toward a successful resolution of all issues, he said, continuing to smile weakly, though diplomatically.

Which might be why he got the job.

Sunday, February 7, 2016

Para-Whacko Tink Thank

Hi, folks.

My name is Loron Wight and I'm a blob of spiritual energy just like you. Of course these days I'm getting a little older, and a little closer every day to blob and a little farther away from the ideals of spiritual and being energetic, but let's not dwell on the obvious, or the measurable, or the provable.

Reality, you know — reality can get tedious, which is why I've formed a group. Nice word that. Group.

Did you know that group was originally an art criticism term meaning "an assemblage of figures or objects forming a harmonious whole in a painting or design"? Pretty fancy, right?

But dig a little deeper and you find that it originally had a Proto-Germanic origin. Specifically kruppaz, meaning a "round mass or lump". When you think of it that way you start getting a warm feeling all over, even running down your legs and into your socks at times.

Count on the Germans whenever you need a round mass or soft, runny lump of something. They've always got a good word handy for any possible distortion of time or space. Ever had German food? Then you know what to call it.

But so. Right now? Let's talk.

I need to fill my tank. I'm starting to run dangerously low on that spiritual energy I think, so what could be better than getting together and having our own Parapsycological Think Tank to give us all a good goose? Sounds impressive, right? I like impressive-sounding stuff. Stuff that has that ring. I like saying stuff too. Stuff and such. Stuffing. Packing it away. Which reminds me that it's time I should be getting hungry again, so I may have to duck and run. I hate missing my lunch. Which is why I usually have three a day. Got to keep the old tank full. Tank.

Another reminder about those ever-useful Germans again.

But food isn't everything. Or tanks. Almost but not quite.

There's more to life than eating and excreting and blowing things up, hard as that may be to grasp, and I do dearly love my bacteria — all those lovely intestinal flora (plus the occasional wiggly fauna specimens that show up — possibly due to my all-raw-food diet).

So what are you curious about, me? Something else?

We got your meditations, your out-of-body experiences, your reincarnation, your pyramids (whether or not you got any grain to store — wink-wink), your energy healing, your channeling, your dowsing, your spirit guides, angels, talking with animals, and that reliable old chestnut, astrology. Take your pick — I'm up for any and all of it, as long as it's part of the One Tru Way™.

And since this is Cuenca, which is in Ecuador, which is part of Latin America for crissakes it's all exotic and sorta wild westy and all that, we got plenty more to choose from, like where to buy coffee. Ever try to find ground coffee around here? Pretty scarce. I think there's a conspiracy. Let's talk about it. Maybe there's somebody with UFO evidence that would explain why I can't find any decent coffee here. I know it's out there.

Plus all kinds of other stuff.

  • How to cross the street — it's crazee here!
  • How to store your spirit energy (I can't find any damn ziplock bags — anywhere).
  • How to befriend and control flies.
  • Defeat loneliness by having more friends (some friends, at least one friend, etc.)
  • Get bread to rise and bake itself via spiritual input alone.
  • Win the lottery.
  • Get shoes repaired.
  • Levitate navel lint.
  • Turn demons into household help (save money — it's like having a free maid who works like hell).
  • Lose weight while eating.
  • Find a decent masseuse who can handle ectoplasm without tearing it for under $5.
  • Find a responsible ectoplasm walker (where, oh where).
  • Dog psychotherapists? Anywhere? (Haven't found one yet.)
  • Communicate with your gut bacteria via feces talks.

I'm up for anything. Professionals invited.

Post Script...

I myself have over 70 genuine degrees from prestigious institutions around the world. All printed on real Naugahyde.

Like (to name only a few):

  • Academy of Natural Therapies, formerly in Hawaii until closed by court order.
  • Bircham International University a.k.a. Oxford International University of Pipewrench, Ohio.
  • Eastern Caribbean University of St. Kitts, Semi-Virgin Islands.
  • Geo-Metaphysical Institute of New York, New York (New York).
  • Mahila Gram Vidyapith of Prayag, Allahabad, India &/or Pakkestan.
  • Patriot Bible University and Gun Shop of the Internet. Nan Pandle, Okieland.
  • Pebbles University of Somewhere, Nigeria.
  • Si Tanka University of Eagle Butt, New Mexico.
  • Trafalgar Distance Learning Institute of Red Deer, Alberta.
  • University of Bums on Seats. Pascagoula, Mississippi.
  • Valley University. Hilltop, Nova Scotia.
  • Wisconsin International University of Florida, Ghana.
  • Yorker International University of Italy, South Dakota.

Or contact me directly at: Da Man!

Sunday, January 31, 2016

Cracker Dance

Nibble your way to enlightenment while moving to the music.

We have them all here: whole wheat (trigo integral), barley (cebada), oats (aveena), quinoa (trendy bits). Take your pick. Nibble away. Become all you can be. Join the Enlightenment Force. Sing and dance your way to happiness while enjoying healthy snacks.

Your Heavenly Facilitator this week (fresh in from St Tropez) will be Carla Venn Diagram, famous graphic artist, stylist, fashion statement, and Spiritual Guru ™, still almost warm from the sunny shores of that fabled little French village that has so much to teach us, the place where Carla VD as she likes to be known recently participated in celebrating the life of the town's patron saint, Torpe de Pizza, well known to the history books for his mozzarella breath and propensity to harvest intense sunburns while sleeping off lunch during long afternoon naps on the beach.

Which you can also do in Cuenca, but not this weekend, because this weekend, (This one only!) we're welcoming Dr. Carla VD and her famous instructional hand puppets to show us the way to enlightenment without any B.S. or need to suspend any disbelief whatsoever.

Yes, folks, it's Carla Venn Diagram: MSW, MFA, Ph.D., Transpersonal, body-centered psycho-spiritual therapist, registered expressive arts therapist, visual artist, dance and improv performer, comedian, and certified Picnic Party Consultant. And she's here for us. Just us. And anyone who can spring for the low-low admission fee of just $99.99 for a twelve-step, twelve-minute, hands on all singing, all dancing instructional session that will change your life forever while it lasts don't be late.

Trained in Action Theatre, Authentic Movement, and Body-Centered Expressive Movement, Dr. Carla studied with shamans and van dwellers and was certified by and worked with Stanislav von Graf (Spee) and Jackson (Jackie the Peanut) Smallnuts in Holotropic Breathwork and plant therapy. (She herself has single-handedly and without regard for her personal feelings or safety and with no need to ever mention it or seek recognition solely and alone among all the peoples of the world who have ever lived saved many radishes, carrots, rutabagas, and several ailing pumpkins to boot from serious depression, evil spirits, and leaf rot, so think what she can do for you.)

This week only at the Four Centered Rivers Center for the Creative Centered Arts — come one, come all. Come early and often. Only $99.99 while the spiritual energy lasts.

Just look for the door around the back of the gray and orange building between Ed's Spanish Recycling and the Good Eats Cuenca Weenie Hole.

Bring a friend with money and get your very own free aura tuneup and miracle brow-wiping cloth and if you have recycling to drop off, well Ed will be glad to see you too. We start on time and don't take kindly to laggards since we have appointments in a bunch of other gringo burgs all up and down the Gullible Coast and then we have to hop over the border into Peru before dark. Just so you know.

Please send an email to let us know you are coming, and how much money you plan to be carrying, and if you are armed. Thank you very much. See you there if not somewhere else.

True!

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Pet Chiropractic With Doctor Duane

Do you have a pet that's alive?

Do you want to keep it that way? Try me. I need work.

My name is Doctor Connerwell Duane (of the Cleveland Duanes) and I have a degree in Pet Work. You may have heard of me since I have advertised in the past: Dr. Doctor Connerwell Duane D.P.C. (Doctor of Pet Chiropractic). My mother named me Doctor. Little did she know...

But back to me.

Are your pets suffering from the wear and tear of living? Could be. Pets get around, you know, even when you're not watching. First they wear, then they tear. Or the other way around. I have it written down somewhere.

But not to fear — I can help, I think. In fact I'm almost sure of it. My fees are so low it's almost a shame. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep. You can watch if you want, some time. It's pretty amusing. I have surveillance tapes to prove it.

If you have rabbits, cats, dogs, other stuff, I can handle it all. Even livestock, but prefer not to touch fish, especially the moody ones, and those electric things. I saw one once and still have nightmares sometimes, but usually cats and dogs are about as extreme as people get though I have been known to do a pretty good job with swine. (Some of my favorites being the Gloucestershire Grunter, Rhode Island Red Sox, and your ever-popular Leghorn Oinkmaster.)

Hamsters, no — too small. Sometimes they just turn to mush inside. Must be something about how the pressure points are arranged. They all seem to be defective that way and I've never had any luck, though I usually win in court.

Anyhoo — hey, give me a toot and I'll come-a-runnin'. Got nothing much else to do until my extradition hearing in a few months, so if you have a li'l fuzzy buddy that can still move under its own power every so often, maybe I can still do some damage.

Did I say that I have over 20 years of experience and would be happy to evaluate your beloved animal companion? Or just sit on the patio and toss back a few if you haven't got much else going on. I don't, mostly. I am pretty decent with past life regressions too, and you'd be surprised what some animals have been through if you can get them to talk.

Sometimes you can't shut them up again, which is why I mostly prefer pets that are small enough to fit inside a box. That usually works, but we can play it by ear. I have learned lots of tricks over the years and can probably be of some help, so call then, OK?

Yours very truly,

Dr. Doctor Connerwell Duane, DPC
email: cuenca_critter_twister@gmail.com

P.S. I'm not in the phone book anymore since they took my phone away, so email. Try it and see if it still works.

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Seeking Dessicated Thyranomine Root

I know there's some out there.

So far I have not been successful. Suggestions are appreciated.

Husband and I recently returned from our semi-annual Shamanistic Holiday Retreat where we spent a half-week chanting, breathing, and inhaling medicinal herb powders with a great collection of other Seekers and Initiates (the Canalic Water Treatment was especially enlightening).

Now that we're back home in our condo we've realized that we left our bag of medicinals behind. We were counting on that to see us through until May. Does anyone have a local source for T-Root? Doesn't have to be top quality — we just need some soon. (You know what I mean.)

Also, we have a 12-year-old grandson who should get out of the house for a while. Our Personal Shaman and Spirit Guide, Mungoo, doesn't take anyone under five feet tall, so he's out, and we do need someone pronto.

Little Harvey will be with us until February. We'll have to bleed off some of his excessive aural emanations before he peels all the paint off the walls and we lose it entirely. His parents haven't been able to manage, obviously, which is why we got him, and the situation is about to go critical.

Prefer an ecolodge jungle experience appropriate for pets or problem children, so we can send the H-Monster back to Wisconsin with a few stories but no visible scars, and a fair amount of plausible deniability on this end. Please let me know about low or reasonable cost Ayahuasca or Waa'Tiutnic Shamans you know personally. Moderate criminal record not a problem. (Misdemeanors preferred.)

We did look online and thought we had found a fairly reputable shaman suitable for pre-teens, but it turned out to be a Mr. Dieter A*** moonlighting from his regular gig at Rent A German.

True, he seemed nice enough at first but quickly formed what we decided was an unhealthy relationship with our Portuguese Weasel Mutt, TuTu. And he shed caapi bark all over the sofa. We couldn't have that either, so it was auf wiedersehen then, Dieter.

We're also looking to ditch TuTu. Beautiful dog, really, but getting to be a bother. Cosmic eyes, especially by candlelight. Very deep spirit. Looks good in pants, so a great dinner companion. Great around people too, especially the elderly, though will sometimes fall asleep on grannie's face (must remain alert for that, obviously). Children OK, mostly, depending on breed.

Likes his calico cat chew toy, so you will need to maintain a goodly supply of them. Stuffed water buffalo chew toy will do too, but has to be life-size. TuTu gets cranky otherwise and may attack without warning, but this is pretty rare now.

His only flaw, if you can call it that, is that he occasionally sneaks out at night to kill one of the neighbor's horses. So far no one has traced it back to us, but you ought to be warned. Sometimes goes after chickens too, maybe smaller children as well, but this is unconfirmed, so we're assuming the best.

Mostly lovable otherwise.

Respond to ad 23 at Gryn-N-Go Post or JHChryste@jahoo.com

Monday, April 28, 2014

What's That Jiggling There?

Walk for life. No, wait. Run for it.

It's a challenge.

Getting around.

Lots of gringos come here and are amazed at how much weight they lose. Collectively, I'd say tons. Tons of gringo-fat, just vanishing like that.

Some ascribe it to the altitude. Some say it's the water, or the fresh, pesticide-free food. Others get more kinky and refer to Bio-Schmetz frequency oscillators, Vortex Imprinters, Fischer-Fueller Hauptmeister Flower Therapies, and other fundamental sciences that they partake of. Mostly, not, I think.

Mostly it's that these people get off their fat asses for the first time in their lives, rear up on their hind legs, and walk around. Because you have to, to get around here at all. Doing that (actually walking) is such a profound shock to their systems, that in a last-ditch grab at self-preservation their bodies jettison huge amounts of flab.

And then they praise themselves for a purely unconscious physiological reaction to getting woken up after a life of sloth. Their bodies, that is. Their bodies wake up. Their minds generally remain tiny and torpid.

The body is usually the smart one, instinctively knowing right from wrong, survival from death, and wishing to remain among the living regardless of what that brain thing up there thinks it ought to be doing.

But there are problems. That's life. Life always comes with problems, and the more people you have to live around, the more problems you run into. Or vice versa.

Which is an issue here in Cuenca, because of three things

  • Narrow streets.
  • Motor vehicle traffic.
  • Crazy pedestrians.

Let's take that last item first. Go ahead and peek at the photo up top. See anything?

The first thing, aside from the posture, is that this doofus is wearing a suit. That's not typical. Jeans for men and tights for women, aside from office peons. The latter wear uniforms (for women it's skirt, heels, vest, blouse, and for men it's not quite so much a uniform, generally, but not a suit either — more like slacks and a sweater, in subdued colors). Office-worker non-peons in suits are out only occasionally, between roughly 1 p.m. and 3 p.m., in selected areas.

A doofus wearing a suit (i.e., anyone in a suit) is almost but not quite exceedingly rare, so I don't get why this person got printed on a sign. So that's the first thing.

The second thing is the posture. Just as weird. There are even fewer zombies around here than office emperors in suits. To date, after roughly a year's time spent here, total, I can say what? What I can say is that there are no zombies walking around in suits unless they wait until I'm looking the other way to do it.

From everything I've heard, zombies are not that fast, so how did one get on a sign? Nuts.

We might as well have zombies though, because pedestrians are pretty crazy. They flow through traffic like fog in a forest. I started late, and have to deal with traffic on a conscious level, but the locals almost don't see traffic. It's like they're wading through a herd of sheep. They sort of decide that they've had enough of standing and waiting to cross a street (three to four seconds of it), or they look and see only 16 or 18 vehicles approaching from a quarter-block away at speeds between 20 and 40 miles per hour (32 to 64 kph) and deem it an acceptable risk.

I wait. Normally. People flow around me, nervous about waiting, anxious to get out in traffic, which seems to be their preferred element, while I run through my head the hundreds of different scenarios succeeding the impact of a chrome bumper against my brittle little self. So I keep waiting. Most of the time.

Unless waiting gets to be too much, and even then I typically cross against the light only when it seems that most of the laws of physics would have to be bent to the point of audible screaming for me to actually be hit. And even then it's a squeaker for me. Too often. I haven't been brought up to this life. I'm still learning. Slowly and fitfully.

I have heard that it is the law that vehicles must yield to pedestrians, at least when there is a stop sign, or a crosswalk, or a traffic light that indicates it's safe for a pedestrian to go ahead and pedestriate. But no. It ain't so. This is true. So true. Which, in a way, makes life simpler here.

The real rule is, if there is any motor vehicle traffic either visible or audible, or potentially so, the pedestrian has no rights. In other words, it's your life — run with it. Which is how you cross the street. Which means, either stand and wait forever because no one is going to give you a chance, or sprint. Or, if you've been brought up here, develop psychic powers that enable you to float through moving traffic somehow. Anyway, it's a driver's world.

Which brings us to the real question — How in hell do you cross the street then?

And that brings us back to the first bullet point above. Narrow streets. That's it. That's how.

A wide street in Cuenca is two lanes, at around 14 feet wide (4.25 m), all-inclusive, maybe less. If it's a one-lane street, you have around 10 to 12 feet. Not much. Easy to cross as counted in strides — four or five. Maybe six.

Walking down a street? Want to cross? Whatcha gonna do?

Listen, then look over your shoulder. If there's no traffic, just cross.

In other places this is called jaywalking. Here it's self-preservation. Life as usual. Whatever. Normal.

This is actually much safer than crossing at corners, because you never know what the hell is going to happen at a corner. Every time you cross at a corner you've got to keep looking for people who don't believe in red lights, and what's even more frightening, you've got to keep looking over your shoulder for someone driving on green while you are walking on green, with the driver making a turn onto your street. Over the top of you. Unless you catch sight of them before they can do that.

No wonder the guy on the sign is walking that way, right? Am I right? Yes.

And if you don't believe me, look at the rest of the photo, a little off to the left and a little below the yellow sign. See it? Bus. Coming his way. The way things go around here, the guy has about three seconds to get his ass out of the street or become dogfood.

Doofus or bus.

Which one would you bet on?

Friday, March 21, 2014

Tips

In relation to the moose's orifice.

Creepy Ed and Vangeline have a blog. It's called something like Being Cheap-Ass in Cuenca Ecuador, and they're proud of how little money they spend living here, compared to Dink Spot, Arkansas. Or maybe it's Oink, Kansas. One of those places.

They go out to eat a lot, pay a dollar each, and complain to management because the food isn't made to their standards, with the ingredients they prefer. So they bring along some of their own food from home and add it to what's on their plates. Then they eat, and after that they complain. And write about their experiences so other expats can go, eat, and complain.

Ed and Vangeline also do a lot of videos. Maybe you've seen some. They're the ones with that distinctive photo-epileptic look. Every twenty seconds or so the camera stops shaking and you get a glimpse of someone's jacket sleeve or shoe, or a door frame, just to re-establish context, and then the camera begins convulsing again and it's back to heebie-jeebie time.

Yeah, so they pretty well have the video market cornered here, but they aren't the only ones with opinions no one wants to hear.

A person named Becky-Ann or some such put up a post on the GringoTime forum here. Something about "Do you leave tips and how much, because I do and I think people deserve it? And being an 'economical refugee' doesn't mean you have to be cheap."

She might have been a ringer, a kind of troll, because I saw a post some time later which was totally hard-butt and opposite in tone, but I didn't know that at the time and answered anyway, partly because of all the retro-moose-fart comments that showed up calling her all kinds of names. Saying she should go the hell back where she came from, that people like her were spoiling it for the rest of "us", that she didn't know the culture, which was dirt and poverty and should stay that way.

All the, like, you know, fun stuff that smart people say. Which they do on on-line forums, where they can remain unidentifiable and out-gas endlessly.

Especially Anonymous. That Death-to-All-of-You Anonymous person. And Anonymous's best friends and supporters, Anonymous and Anonymous.

So I said what I thought.

Isn't it odd how eager "Anonymous" is to reply, yet how little s/he has to say?

I am an economic refugee. I never tipped in my home country. I tip here.

Because

  • Now I can afford to.
  • The people here need the money more than I do.
  • Laying money on the table is why I am allowed to stay.

No expats are encouraged to come here and live because they are intellectually, physically, spiritually, or morally superior. Expats are encouraged to come here to inject money into the economy.

Buying goods and services is one way to do this. Whether or not we "overpay" is beside the point. The point is for us to spend money, which helps the economy. Tipping does the same - it moves money from our pockets to the pockets of Ecuadorians.

That said, how I spend my money is my business and no one else's. If anyone disagrees, then let them post all their tax returns, bank statements, and medical histories here. After that, I will decide whether to criticize their private and personal decisions.

But probably not, because I have a life.

So I guess I can be a dick too. But I try to be a decent one.

What?

Monday, February 18, 2013

Shung Fwei Makeovers With Banana Jam

A 98.6 percent solution.

Hi, everybody!

Well, today is a new day!

As you might not have noticed, I have recently relocated to beautiful Cuenca, Ecuador, and I love it here!

For new visitors to Fung Ways Newsletter, my name is Banana Jam Hajduk. I am a licensed Counseling Psychologist and Fruit Therapist, trained in the Three Berries tradition of the ancient school of Shung Fway, located at 1613 Santa Monica Boulevard in Los Angeles, California.

I also have an advanced degree in Kitty-Cats and Funny Hats, as well as having studied with the masters of the Colored Fuzz Method in Panama and at the McNeil Island Institution in Washington State.

Why Cuenca?

Good question!

Having lived in several European countries, Belize, Malaysia, the USA, and several Mexican compounds with my former husband Pablo (recently deceased), I decided it was time for a change!

I now enjoy peace and anonymity despite being wanted in several if not most of the countries mentioned. For seminars, of course!

Hah! You big silly!

Well, how about you?

Are you new to life in Cuenca, Ecuador? Did you just move here? Do you have some troubling past life experiences you need sorted out? Well, I have personal experience with that, and I can tell you that plastic surgery and even frequent name changes will not solve all your problems.

So, for those nagging issues that just won't go away, I call on Shung Fwey, and you can too.

A vigorous but gently stimulating Fruit Cup Massage and Earlobe Reading will make you into a New Person. I can guarantee it! And, for those few skeptics out there, I have a no-money back guarantee to back me up.

Once we have your chi-force in line with your sugar balance (and have your pectin chart fully operational), we can move on to discussing your fashion sense and talking about the Real Estate Market.

I'm betting you probably never gave it much thought, but Cuenca is a Hot, Hot Real Estate Market, chock full of opportunity. And just between the two of us - We Can Make It Happen!

A few private consultations, a handful of Fung Tweaks, a bit of Staging Magic, and carefully-worded ads placed in the right international real estate speculation journals will have your head spinning in no time.

Do we hear cash? Yes!

I also do Pet Relaxation Therapy, and what I call my Komfy Kollages using all-natural, all-organic fuzz collected at night from sleeping alpacas. Doesn't that sound like Fun?

Now, I know you want to ease into all this, so next Saturday I'll be giving a free seminar for interested persons, "newbies", and diehard doubters.

We'll be meeting at the Tastee Bean Caffeine-Free Coffee Bar and Harmonic Convergence Research Center at 10 a.m., with a suggested $200 donation to be collected at the door by my friend Mike.

If you want lunch, a certified spiritually-accessible low fat fruit plate will be available from Kate's Eats for a mere $73.

So new to Shung Fwey or not, discover how my environment can affect you and how to hold hands and become one with my bank account.

See you there!

Or else!

Friday, February 8, 2013

Spanish On The Hoof

Oink if you feel it helps.

"Now here are the words for today: 'vaca', 'cerdo', 'pollo', 'caballo', 'cabra'. Write a sentence using each."

This was Spanish at Noxius, The School of Language.

After three weeks there I began gnawing on my leg. They had to drag me out.

I believe the yawning pit opened somewhere between "vaca" and "cerdo", but I could be wrong. Vertigo may have distorted my memory.

I have no great love for vacas, either close by or from a distance. Or for cerdos.

Not a one of them. Not in herds or individually, even if they were to wear colorful name tags, and I never write about them. Ordinarily. As far as I can remember.

Which is what made this Spanish class so extraordinarily poignant.

Is that the word for how you end up sobbing in desperation?

Could be. Something like that. After having been an adult for so very many years, and being returned to seven-year-old status.

My fellow students were earnest. As was Señora Salamandre. Our teacher.

My fellow students wanted to learn all about farm animals, and to use them in sentences. And Señora Salamandre was qualified.

She spoke Spanish and we didn't. Which entitled her to earn money.

Ours.

And she was the wife of a doctor. Which made her large with status.

In week one we learned to count from one to three.

In week two we learned what a fork was called, and which things one could poke with it, in polite company.

Week three introduced us to the farm animals, and to sentences of up to four words.

And then there I was, growling, and biting my ankle. Perhaps you can understand.

Perhaps not. It seems different in Spanish than the ordinary gnawing you might do in English, for example. In case you have done that yourself, in English or French, or Klingon.

"In Klingon? Right. I can understand how you might end up there, in Klingon," you could say, solicitously, backing up, looking for an exit. "But Spanish? Well..."

Ah, but you did not study under Señora Salamandre, who had a way of bringing the teeth out in people. She had a way. It brought all those gnawing instincts straight to the surface. Which was where my Spanish studies at Noxius ended.

I had to resign.

After regaining consciousness I sent a polite email explaining that I would not be back, so sorry. Ever. Cold fronts in hell and so on. And then the Director of Gringo Studies contacted me about remedial help.

"I have discussed your case with Robert Waddler, my room-mate, one of your fellow students, and a board-certified Slung Fwey Technician (Third Degree, Kwik Kwek Kwak School of the Ravenous Heron), and Crystal Therapist. He feels there may be some disturbance in one of your past incarnations. We can work on that. I have also talked to others about you and your episodes of speechlessness, and feel confident that if we place you in a new, Sub-Beginner Spanish Class (starting next week, at only $19.95 per hour), and you promise not to gnaw on yourself in front of others, we can virtually assume that at the end of six months or so you will be fluent in talking about farm animals in sentences of up to four words."

But by then I am afraid it was too late.

Perhaps it was my previous language training that spoiled me.

The training in Latin. The training in German. The B.A. in English. Or perhaps the B.S. in Physics and Computer Science (with minors in math and chemistry). Who can say?

But I did not feel up to a special Sub-Beginner Spanish Class (starting at only $19.95 an hour, with four-color flash cards of farm animals and emergency tutoring available on demand), and am now studying with Nadezhda of the Dark Eyes and the Quick Wit.

And blood is once more flowing through my brain.

Because of being treated like an adult? Possibly.

Because, you know.

I am one.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Eat Week.

OK, last week in review.

I ate at different places. I decided, whatever the pain, I've got to try things.

When I say I ate at different places, what I mean is two different places, bouncing back and forth, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at one, and Tuesday and Thursday at the other.

When I say "pain" I mean mostly total, abject embarrassment with language. Embarrassment for me, and for everyone within earshot.

Luckily few here carry guns, so there was little actual shooting.

One place I tried was "Good Affinity", about a half-hour walk away, near "Gringo Gulch" where a lot of the pale people live in tall brick buildings.

Good Affinity was recommended by the first person I met here, while eating at "el Tunel". Good Affinity is a Taiwanese vegetarian place.

Vegetables are good.

I've been eating mostly bread, or scrambled eggs, toast, and bread, or tiny dabs of vegetables surrounded by rice and thin slices of various meats, supplemented by bread, for six weeks.

A lot of bread.

I thought, "Vegetables, I could use them." Besides, the two places I tried last week were highly recommended.

It's a bit odd to struggle in Spanish up against a couple of Chinese guys, though they were very nice about it all, and probably thought the same about me (oddness, not the Chinese part).

I look more like an aging but still crazed U-boat captain. Sort of. In my fantasy life. Some of the time.

The Good Affinity folks no doubt get many dim-witted gringos stumbling in. I always apologize a lot. I'm getting good at that, even in Spanish. It's my specialty.

So - the short version: I made it through my first lunch.

What I did after the second pass was to copy the menu into my notebook and take it home for analysis. The copying was easy because the menu is short and on the wall, with pictures.

I get pictures. After only a bit of study.

On my third visit I did well, sort of, considering.

There was no line behind me (so I didn't delay anyone), and I kind of knew the routine, and due to having done my homework, I was able to ask for "brécol" (broccoli) as one of my options.

You get rice plus four other options, and you can point if all else fails. I'm still largely in failure mode, "Failure" being my middle name and all, though I can say "broccoli" pretty well, and I wanted it anyway.

Excuse me. I meant to say "brécol". I sincerely apologize.

To you, your associates, your relatives, to the fine people of this country, to the President, and to the flag, Sir or Madam as the case may be.

You can just call me "F".

On my second visit I ordered "Menú de Día Combo" ("Daily Special", or "Special of the Day"), which I've had all three times, sort of, but I refused the juice, wanting to keep the price down a bit.

Silly me. I apologize.

After I'd sat down there was a small episode of hand waving and chattering between the two Chinese guys who were on deck that day.

The one who had put my food together, and the other one, the one who had offered me juice, well they had an exchange of words, and hand signals.

Guy One then caught my attention and kept saying something about "jugo", and motioned me to come and get some. I finally figured out that I had paid for it and they wanted to make sure I got it.

I think.

Anyway, I got a glass of juice and they didn't charge me for it or chase me down the street after I left, so I'm guessing it was included.

This was nice of them.

Undue kindness toward idiots may not pay off in the after life, assuming there is one, but idiots come to appreciate it when it arrives unbidden, with a smile. And of course it is always undeserved.

Especially by me.

And thirst quenching.

On the third day I simply ordered "Un Menú de Día Combo, por favor," pointing like a semi-pro, acting only half-stupid, and then I tried living dangerously by asking "Y tambien, dos rollos primavera, por favor". (I.e., please toss the idiot two spring rolls as well.)

It was my lucky day.

Two spring rolls had already been fried up, for someone else apparently, and were sitting on a plate behind the sneeze guard, ready to go home with me after some pleasant chewing, so I didn't have to wait.

To sum up, the place is not elegant nor the food stupendous. But it is good. Good eats.

And they are kind to idiots.

Which is hard work, the being kind to idiots part, and I appreciate it

The "Menú de Día Combo" is soup (first course), "segundo" (second course, consisting of a plate with the mandatory rice plus other options which you select to keep the rice from feeling lonely), and then there is a large glass of juice to sluice your gullet with.

For juice the second two times I got tomate (the not-tomato juice, which is a bit like orange juice, and not red but yellow).

The total cost for the "Menú de Día Combo" is $2.50.

Spring rolls are 70 cents each, so my lunchtime total was $3.90.

Kind of a splurge compared to el Tunel at $2.25, but the spring rolls are crisp and greasy and the calories feel good as they become one with me.

My kinda eats.

The other Menú de Día options are "segundo y jugo" ($2.25, no soup), or "solo segundo" ($2.00, no soup or juice). Not bad.

It's a nice walk out to Good Affinity and the bank branch I've been going to is across the street, so I can get cash and eat. Which is better than eating and getting gas.

Especially because of the cost of lunch, and for the crisp bills that the ATM give me.

The cash this ATM ejects is fresh off the press. I've never seen such new money before.

It is clean, unwrinkled, flawless, and nearly still warm from the oven.

So far it's passed review everywhere I've spent it. And they pay attention around here.

Some places, including the SuperMaxi grocery chain, seriously inspect your money, holding it up to the light, sticking it under an ultraviolet lamp, feeling its texture, doing a fingernail scratch test. For even a $5 bill.

No one has yet sniffed my money, but I'm expecting to see that. Maybe tomorrow. Who can say?

The other place I went to is called "El Nuevo Paraiso".

We'll visit it another day. OK?

Monday, August 27, 2012

Noise Makes It Better Somehow

Not to mention belligerence.

Gringo Screaming: Examples: "These people are so damned slow!" "They're all a bunch of liars." "I want my coffee RIGHT NOW!" "These people won't even speak English. They can but they won't!"

Put another way, being a loud, obnoxious asshole in someone else's country.