Carnaval

My first experience in Holland was pretty memorable. I successfully navigated the trains to Venlo, a little town near the German border where Carolien's family was from. The first thing I noticed was the bicycles - there are something like 10 per person in the country. Everywhere we would go during the weekend, most people were cruising around on two wheels despite the bad weather. Carolien met me at the station with one of her friends and we walked through the snow to get to her grandmother's house. Like a typical grandmother, the first thing she did was feed us (or me, at least - the girls had already eaten). 'Uma' as Carolien called her, kept talking to me in Dutch. When Carolien explained that I didn't understand, she didn't seem to mind. She would speak to me and point to my bowl. I got the message and nodded, so she would bring me another bowl of soup.

We went out that night to downtown Venlo, which was gearing up for Carnaval. It's similar to the celebrations in Brazil and New Orleans, except the cold weather doesn't tend itself to the kind of outfits you see in those warmer places. The southern part of Holland celebrates the holiday (really 5 or 6 days of partying) because it is traditionally Catholic, while the rest of the country and most places in neighboring countries do nothing. So we met up with Carolien's cousin and made our way to the packed pubs. It was a good time, minus the smoke and the fact that every bar was jam packed full of people. We didn't stay out too late because we knew we had a big day ahead of us.

Surprisingly, Uma was awake when we got home and had a glass of wine with us before bed. She told me (through Carolien) about the German occupation during WWII. The US Army came and liberated the town of Venlo. William Knowlton, I think he was a lieutenant at that time, stayed in their house. He eventually became a general. They kept in touch through letters ever since then, and his daughter ended up marrying David Patraeus (whose father was Dutch, she was quick to point out). She had pictures and notes from their wedding, with updates about the Patraeus kids (his grandkids) and everything until he died a few years ago. If you don't know, General Patraeus is now a 4 star general with major duties in America's conflicts. It's interesting how people cross paths.

The next morning Carolien's mom, dad and brother met us at Uma's house. We got dressed up in our outfits and got bundled up since it was hovering around the freezing mark and not expected to warm up. My "costume" was just a hodgepodge of things they had used before... I was originally going to go as an Arab with a cloak-shirt thing and turban, but the cloak was too small. I wore a farmer's shirt which was pointless since I had a jacket on, a green wig, and a sign that said 'Will you buy me a beer, please?' in Dutch. Carolien wore scrubs, her brother had a funky hairdo, her dad had white coveralls and a funny hat, and her mom just had some odd clothes on from what I could tell.

We got there at 11 am and spent the entire day freezing out in the cold with the Hogenhuis family plus a few of Carolien's friends, cousins, aunts and uncles. Bands played traditional songs and everyone was dressed up a lot more than us. Every now and then we would go into a bar, but for the most part we stayed outside. I made a random friend from the US named 'Mo', who was traveling through Europe and happened upon Venlo by chance. He was a veteran and now worked as a comedian - interesting guy. We hung out for most of the afternoon and I could tell he would be a good asset as a wingman. He would go up to any girl and start a conversation.

Mo and I got separated, so we didn't see him that evening when we left the festival. The party was still going strong but we were cold, tired and hungry so we headed back to Uma's house. We stayed for a bit to eat and I took a family photo before we left to go to Oosterhout, just outside of Breda (Carolien's hometown).

We changed into new costumes when we got to Carolien's house and went out again. This time I wore an orange toga and blue turban - I didn't ask questions, I just put it on. We met up with a bunch of Carolien's friends from high school and had a great night out. It was a bit weird to see teenagers out at the bar - 16 is the legal drinking age. There are pubs where younger and older people hang out, but every now and then I would do a double take when I saw an obvious kid walking around with a beer. It was definitely something to get used to. Also, I must say... Dutch girls are way hotter than Belgian girls. Everyone has been really nice and willing to talk to me if I walk up and start a conversation, but the Dutch are better in my book. That's just one man's opinion.

Anyway, a few of Carolien's friends were participating in the next day's Carnaval parade and needed an extra person (so they said). I couldn't tell if they were serious, but I said to call Carolien in the morning if they needed me. Old and young people alike were out until 2 or 3 am. Martin, one of Carolien's friends, invited us all back to his parents' house for a little after-party (his parents were with us at the pub). They fixed us these deep fried meat-paste sticks called croquettes that weren't all that good, but it was late and they were deep fried.

We slept late and were thankful that I wasn't summoned at an early hour for the parade. We made our way downtown and got there in time to see the first of about 40 floats go by. We walked opposite of the parade direction so that we could see everything and still stay warm - it was still freezing. Another oddity about the Dutch is the political incorrectness. There were white people with their faces painted to be black, Mexican, Asian... you would never get away with that in a US parade.

Finally, I bid Carolien and her parents goodbye and headed back on the train to Brussels. I only have one weekend left in Europe, so I probably won't get to see Carolien for a long time. We've already had more than one goodbye like that, and it seems to work out that we meet back up sooner than expected. Here's to that!

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This might be one of the greatest experiences I can hope to have in another country... a lot of people can say they've been to Holland which really means they've partied in Amsterdam. How many can say they spent an entire weekend with a Dutch family, having traditional food, celebrating their festivals, and REALLY experiencing the Dutch culture? If I can top this in the next few weeks, I will be surprised.

First week Euro-working

I just finished my first week of work in Brussels, but before I talk about that, let me back up a bit.

My week at home was relaxing – of course it is great to sleep in your own bed. I was less than happy with the weather, because who wouldn’t like to stay in a place where it’s 85 and sunny every day? I got a prescription for Ambien since I found out that I would be making frequent flights to Belgium (more on that in a second), got a new pair of glasses (for the first time in 15 years or so), but spent most of my time catching up on Heroes and 24 episodes on the DVR (what would I do without it?).

After I was all prepared for a life over the Atlantic for most of the next 7 months, my company’s legal department threw a wrench in the plan. They insisted that I was going to need a work visa to make frequent trips through customs into Belgium. If I stayed for 3-4 months at a time it would probably have been ok, but European customs officials frown upon it when you visit every 3 weeks. I fought for a while, but could do nothing but give in. My European summer had been cut short before it began, and I am only going to be here for 3 weeks. That gives me 2 weekends to explore Europe on my first trip here.

For this 9 hour overnight plane ride I was prepared with the Ambien and popped it about 2 hours into the flight. I woke up a few times, but everything was in slow motion and swirly… trippy, man. I woke up with about an hour left and felt relatively rested enough to start the day at work.

When I touched down in Brussels, I got a very different feeling from Santiago. Maybe it was the after-effects of the Ambien, but I think it was more because I don’t speak French or Dutch and IT WAS FLIPPING COLD. Luckily for me, everyone here seems to speak English so getting around isn’t difficult at all. Of course, throughout this week people have told me ‘This has been the coldest winter in a long time’ and ‘We never get snow like this’. It was great to see some snow since we don’t get much in Atlanta… well, at least we didn’t until I left. I was prepared with warm clothes, but I ended up wearing two pairs of pants to work for a few days. Yes, it was that cold.


I’m staying at an extension of the Renaissance Marriott Hotel, which is called Marriott Executive Apartments. Fancy, I know. It’s a glorified hotel suite, with 1.5 bathrooms, a full kitchen, living room and bedroom. There is room service and a full gym and indoor pool in the connected hotel. Not too shabby. At ~100 Euros a night, it better not be (thank you, client!).

I have to take trains to work every day, which includes a connection. Then there is a 10 minute walk from the train station to work, making my overall commute from apartment to work about 50 minutes. Brr. Going to the train station every day is almost like a trip back in time… except the trains are electric so they make almost no noise, all of the sign boards are digital, and there are people talking on mobile phones here and there. But other than that, riding the train feels like I’m in a 1950s movie. Everyone is bundled up in scarves, gloves and hats, speaking French when spoken to. You know the movie where the boyfriend leaves the girlfriend to move away, she hands him her hankerchief as he waves goodbye while the train whistle blows and chugs away? That’s the one.

I live in the ‘EU Quarter’ which is near the Luxemburg train station. The EU Parliament is right behind that, so there is a good selection of restaurants and bars within walking distance. I tried out L’Atome (link) my first night out, and it was decent (although steaks in Belgium are undercooked. Well done = medium rare).

Last night (Thursday) I went into Luxemburg Square, where there were lots of bars, restaurants, and people buzzing around. My apartment is just around the corner so it’s close enough to be convenient, but not close enough to be bothered with all of the traffic. I ate at a restaurant called Coco and planned to go for a walk through the city since I hadn’t seen any of it yet. I know it was dark, cold and late, but I was tired of waiting. I took my guidebook to find sights that were close by, doing my best to hide the cover of the book so that people didn’t think I was a tourist. Despite my best efforts, a group of girls kept looking over at me and laughing. Great, I thought. I have tourist written on my forhead.

As I finished dinner, that group of girls were leaving and told me (in English, without asking if I spoke it) that I should join them for a drink at The Pullman, a bar next door. I paid my bill and walked over there – I’m in Brussels, I’m alone, why not? I felt a bit foolish because I had a guidebook in my pocket, I was wearing jeans in a bar where everyone was just getting off work and dressed up, and of course my Asics shoes (after all, I had planned to go for a walk).

I found the group, who were surprised that I accepted their invitation. Come to find out, they were all Romanian and work for the EU. A lot of the assistants and underlings of the EU congressmen go out in this area on Thursday nights since it is so close to their work. I ended up meeting a few other nationalities, all of whom spoke English. I had a few drinks, exchanged contact information with a few of them, and turned in for the night.

On Friday I left work early because our network was down for the first 5 hours I was there. I wanted to tour Brussels a bit before I left for Holland since I hadn't been in the city during daylight hours. I made my way from my apartment down to Grand Place, the center of the city. It is a very old square, with the city hall and old guild houses dating back to the 11th century. Here's a panorama that I took to give you an idea what it's like:




So that was my first week. This weekend I am going to Holland to hang out with Carolien for Carnaval. She says it’s a really great party all weekend, so we’ll see. I just hope I can figure out the trains and get there without getting lost!

Belgium

I just got word that the next leg of this project will take me to Belgium. I've known it was a possibility for about a month, but didn't get definitive word until today. They initially wanted me to fly straight there from Santiago, but I think I'm going to need some other clothes. I'll be going from 90 degrees to about 30 :(

That's not to say I'm not excited about getting to see Europe of course. I may try to delay my return flight by a week so I really get a chance to explore (something I wish I had done here in South America). Belgian chocolate, Belgian waffles and Belgian beer, here I come.

Ha

Just a little weekend trip to Argentina

On Tuesday (almost on a whim), I decided to up and go to Mendoza, Argentina, for the weekend. The weather said 85+ every day, I think I can handle that (how's it going in Atlanta, amigos?) Carolien was there with her boyfriend, finishing a 3 week trek around South America before they came back to Santiago. Since I knew I had an amiga there, and I didn't have any other plans, I booked the plane ticket.

Why Mendoza? It is located very near the Andes, making it the closest point to Aconcagua, the highest mountain in the western hemisphere. There is paragliding, hiking, skiing (in the winter), rafting, and um, oh yeah, WINE. Mendoza has around 1,500 wineries.


I wanted to take a bus, but I still had to work on Friday. The bus could be anywhere from 6 to 9 hours, depending on traffic and the border crossing in the Andes. LAN airlines is the Chilean national carrier, and I found a round trip ticket for $139 (a one way ticket cost $375, go figure). I'll just skip the return flight and take the bus, thank you very much.

The plane ride went without incident, and I even got to practice some Spanish with the woman sitting next to me. Since me and my long legs were in the aisle seat, she snapped this picture for me as we flew. When I filled out my declaration form, the flight attendant gave me a card that said I would have to pay another $130 reciprocity fee to enter the country (we charge them, so they charge us). When I went through customs, they didn't say a word so I just waltzed right in (or should I say salsa-ed?)

I got a taxi and through Spanglish and a hand-drawn map, I directed the driver to my hostel, called Ruca-Potu. I met Carolien's boyfriend and we settled by the hostel's pool to enjoy the weather and unlimited wine. As night rolled around we found a restaurant on a street called Villanueva. The vibe was very similar to Bellavista in Santiago. Bars and restaurants lined boths sides of the street, and there were people lounging and eating on patios at all of them. A few places had live music as well.

Of course, I ordered a steak, which ended up being a bit of a disappointment. It was really thick but kind of fatty and chewy. I ordered Vicio, which was described as an Argentinian cut steak, whatever that means. We had some drinks and walked around to a few places. I'm going to try to say this without sounding like a male pig, but I am going to comment on the scenery. Wow. I had heard people talk about Argentina's women, and I didn't think much of it. But... wow. It was like walking through sorority row. Road trip anyone? Of course, I talked to none of them. And just to show that I not only noticed the females: Argentino's love mullets. Mohawk-mullets, short hair with a rat tail (sometimes a mini-rat tail that is braided), and your run of the mill variety were everywhere. Rock on.

I was kind of tired between working and traveling, plus we had a big day ahead of us, so we called it a night around 2 am. *Note: this may sound late but apparently the bars don't pick up until around that time. A few Israeli guys at our hostel stayed out until 7 am both days I was there. They said it got really crazy late at night, so I'm sorry I missed out (kind of).

Pieter was sick in the morning so it was up to Carolien and myself to tour wine country. We took the #10 bus to Maipu and rented bicycles from Mr. Hugo's for $30 pesos (about $10 US). They gave us a map and we were free to explore. We crossed paths with quite a few others doing the same... the day was breezy and about 80 degrees, with just enough clouds and shade to keep you from sweating when pedaling at a leisurely pace.


Our first stop was a free winery and museum. We walked around and looked at all of the old equipment that was hanging around the building. All of the labels were in Spanish and there were really no explanations, so I wouldn't call it much of a museum. We went to Trapiche next, because I think I've had that brand. It turned out to be closed, so we rode about 20 minutes to the highly recommended Familia di Tommaso restaurant and winery.

We paid $15 pesos ($5) for a tasting and tour of the winery. I was really taken with the Malbec variety, and I can't say that I've had much back home. I definitely will now, and you should, too. The winery was labeled a historic structure since it was built in the 1800s and still produces wine. They have a modern facility a few miles away, but are not allowed to update the old structure because of its historical significance.

We had lunch there and I ended up buying a bottle of their Don Angelo Malbec from 2004. Apparently it was a really good year, enough that they created a limited edition run of 4,000 bottles and had the winemaker sign each one. Hopefully it will come through in my luggage ok and I can enjoy it when it matures in 2012.

We cruised back to Mr. Hugo's to return our bikes and caught the bus back to the hostel. They offered us free wine before we left, but Carolien wanted to check on Pieter (she is almost a doctor, after all). He was doing ok so we all took a taxi downtown to do some shopping. Nobody really found anything spectacular, and the prices were about the same as the US.

We headed back and I saw a bunch of guys playing soccer in the park next to my hostel. Carolien and Pieter wanted to take a nap, so I walked there by myself. Our hostel was located in an area that was a bit sketchy, so I was cautious. I had my camera in my pocket, and all I really cared about was my memory card (is that bad?). The guys were packing up when I walked by, and they could tell that I was curious. Here's how the conversation went with one of the players that did all the talking:

"Hello, my friend." - argentino
"Hola." - me
"Do you like cocaine?" - argentino
"No, pero juegas al fútbol." - me
"Ohhh!" - all 8 or so of the guys

They immediately tossed me the ball and I did a few tricks and balanced the ball on the nape of my neck. I guess that was the right of passage, because after that they were pretty friendly. They asked me where I was from and the usual simple things that I can respond to easily. They invited me to play at 4:00 pm every Saturday. So if you're ever in Mendoza, Argentina, and are looking for a game of pickup soccer... yeah, I know of a place.

After this 2-3 minute exchange they walked in one direction, and I thought it best to go in the other. They ended up sitting and juggling near some benches about 50 yards away, and although I was tempted to play with them, I still didn't feel quite comfortable going over there with my camera in my pocket (hopefully I can find some guys in Santiago to check that off my list). I went back to the hostel and dozed off to get ready for the evening.

There were a few Brits, an Australian and the Israelis that were all talking about how much fun the late night club was the night before. They all planned to go out again on Saturday night, but we had HOURS to waste. We all sat around, just getting to know each other. Pieter, Carolien and I walked to a pizza joint about 4 blocks away for dinner. We ordered two pies, not knowing exactly what to expect. Jamon Especial came with no tomato sauce, cheese, giant strips of ham, hard boiled eggs, red peppers and olives. Tropical ended up being no tomato sauce, cheese, ham, pineapple and cherries. It was interesting and filling, but definitely not the best pizza I've ever had. By the time 1 and 2 am rolled around, the partiers from the night before started dropping like flies and went to bed. Only the Israelis remained, and as much as I wanted to join them, I was planning to paraglide at 9 am and wanted to be functional for that. Carolien and Pieter did it the day I got there and recommended that I try it. Since we were leaving on the bus just after noon, I had a small window and not enough time to do everything. Possibly meeting some chicas argentinas was so so tempting (and probably unlikely, as mentioned above), but I went to bed to rest up.

I woke up around 8:30 to see the Israelis just getting in. Yes, they party hard. I spoke with the owner of the hostel and coordinator for my paragliding to see if the pilot was on schedule. Unfortunately it was too windy and the pilot canceled the morning flights. If I came back in the afternoon it would probably be ok, but I had to leave. :(

The three of us checked out of the hostel and left for the bus. I'm not sure I would recommend Ruca-Potu to travelers through Mendoza. It was nice, safe and clean, but the area of town wasn't the best. It was close to the bus terminal, but not the city center or the action. I'd like to stay further in town if I ever go back.

Carolien and I played cards for a while in the bus terminal and waited for our departure with Tur-Bus, the same company that took us to Valpo (I will add link once I finish the blog on ths :) ). Carolien taught me a version of Rummy (that I will henceforth call Dutch Rummy... memories of Fr-Uno, anyone?). It's hard to explain, but there's no discard pile and you can use combinations on the table to complete your turn. I'll try to find a link and update this post.

I fell in and out of sleep on the bus ride, and I asked Carolien to wake me up whenever she saw something cool. I had an empty seat next to me, and the seatbacks reclined way more than planes. It was a fairly comfortable ride. We got to the border and got out for a while. It ended up taking 3 hours to get through customs, what a hastle. I wasn't too worried about it because I had nothing to get back to in the afternoon.


For a reason that I still don't understand, a team of teenage soccer players joined our bus when we left the border. Maybe their bus broke down? I gathered from my broken Spanish that their team was playing in a tournament this week in Santiago. He was really afraid of heights, and as we wound down the road around the hairpin turns away from the border, he cringed somewhat jokingly (laughing with his friend sitting behind us) and turned his head every time our window was overlooking the dropoff. This picture shows him turning away from the window.

We finally made it back to Santiago after 9 hours on the road. We watched Ghosts of Girlfriends Past in Spanish along with episodes of NCIS along the way and in between naps. The couple sitting in front of me gave one of the most brazen PDA performances I have ever seen. Chilenos have no shame when it comes to making out in public, but these two took it up a notch. I've never been grossed out by that kind of thing until now. Carolien said she saw some pants re-buttoning as we neared our destination.

The subway was closed when we finally got to the station, so I split a cab with a Dane that was on the bus with us since we were both going to Providencia. We exchanged info and plan to hang out sometime soon. Overall, it was a good weekend, but much too short. I'm glad I chose to fly there since it took so long to get back. I'd like to paraglide, so maybe I can do that in Santiago... I'll have to look into it. Mendoza is a place that you need a full two days to see, not just my day and a quarter.

Nerdy Excel stuff

I may be the only person that ever references this page, but I'm putting it on here anyway. If you ever need to make drop-down lists that change the color of a row depending on which option you select, this is how to do it in MicroSoft Excel 2007:

Let's say you're working to display a table of issues that have priorities from Low to High. Create a workbook with 2 worksheets - one for data, one for the list. The List Sheet is easy. All you need is a vertical list that looks like this:

Low
Medium
High
Critical

Highlight all four items, right click and select 'Name a Range'. Copy the 'Refers To' line and go to the Data Sheet.

On the Data Sheet, create a table with two columns: Issue Number and Priority. Click on the first cell for Priority. Then go to the Data Tab and click on Data Validation in the Data Tools section. In the window that pops up, select List and paste the 'Refers To' from your other sheet into the Source text.

Now you should have a drop-down for that row. To add color to the row, highlight all cells in the first row. Go to the Home Tab and click on Conditional Formatting in the Styles tab. Click Create New Rule and select "Use a formula to determine which cells to format". Paste this in:

=INDIRECT("B"&ROW())="Low"

This assumes that Column B has the list. Use this site as a reference.

Wow your boss with this one.

Return to Santiago

I came back to Chile today for another month working in Santiago. It's so different from a few months ago. There's no mystery in where to go or what to do. Now if I could only speak the language.

When I got to the Atlanta airport I decided it was time to go ahead and get out of my comfort zone. I approached a stranger (gasp) on the inter-terminal tram. Of course it was a female, because as awkward as talking to a girl is, I think it would be more awkward talking to a guy. I was in need of a dinner conversation, but unfortunately her flight didn't give her enough time. We did get to discussing Rosetta Stone, of which I am a big fan (except for the price tag). I showed her how it worked and passed the time, since I was really early (2 hours early for an international flight - yeah right). I still ended up eating dinner alone, but mission accomplished to waste some time and get out of my shell in preparation for that necessity on my trip.

I must admit that I watched Harry Potter on the flight. I think the guy next to me might have been judging, but I guess I would judge, too. I got a little more sleep on the plane than I did the first time, thanks partly to the Benadryl that I didn't forget this time, and partly to the lack of anxiety about the trip. Just like on my last trip, 75% or more of the flight were senior citizens going on a cruise. The couple in front of me gave me a bunch of Starbucks cookies, because apparently raisins and nuts aren't allowed into the country (score!).

My apartment wasn't ready in the morning, so I had to go straight into the office. Now I really feel like a zombie. It doesn't help that everyone says, "You really look tired." Gee, thanks. I made it home, took a nap and then after much internal debate went to the California Bar to watch the Orange Bowl between GT and Iowa. I thought I might get lucky and find some Yellowjacket fans, but no dice. I was UNLUCKY enough to find 3 Iowa fans as soon as I walked in, but they were cool enough to let me sit with them. One of them does promotions for a Santiago Pub Crawl which I am definitely going to check out. GT lost the game, but it was OK because I got to talk some basketball trash to some UNC MBAs doing a study abroad.