Vocabulary Word of the Week: Salchicha

Thus begins a new weekly installment (Maybe? That statement could be a little audacious). Let's face it, amigos; the time has come to make this blog concretely edifying for its legions of followers.

This week's new word: Salchicha

(pronounced "sahl-chee-cha")

Chileans and Mexicans alike salivate at mention of this word. Very Pavlovian it is. Salchicha = sausage. And what is the sausage of choice in these countries? Why, the hot dog, of course!

Great on pizza, in sandwiches, served over pasta, cut into rounds and bathed in mayo, what-have-you. And of course, there's always the classic salchicha in bun. Nothing's more versatile than a processed by-product meat, you see.

There are quite a few salchicha fast food joints here in Chile, and they're always swarming with customers ravenous for their favorite food, the national treat.

Here's the salchicha aisle at our grocery store. Yes, I said aisle. I'm serious. It's all hot dogs. I don't know why there are so many choices for this product (I guess there are different quantity packs one can purchase, and that could lead to some tough decision-making). But as evinced in the photo, picking your desired hot dog pack is a dilemma that merits serious contemplation.

It can be guaranteed that the person in line in front of you at a Santiago grocery store will drop a pack of weiners on the ol' conveyor belt. And in your head you'll think, "Ah! You went for the 12-pack! Interesting! Very interesting!"

Montevideo

"World, welcome to Uruguay."

Matt and I enjoyed a weekend jump across Argentina to charming little Uruguay. We found cheap airfare at the last minute and decided to ditch shaky-town to experience what it feels like for the earth to be bereft of movement; we kinda forgot what that's like.

Flying over the Andes was almost worth the airfare, in itself. Took this photo from my airplane window (!):

Montevideo and Santiago are both very safe cities in very stable countries, sort of Latin American outliers. Montevideo's a bit less bustling and a tad less modern, but a bunch friendlier than Santiago. A charismatic yet unassuming little thing, if you will.

Even now and then when traveling, our (and when I say "our," it's totally inclusive; I'm talking homo sapiens in general) luck runs out.

For instance, we're hungry, we're unfamiliar with this new place, we've been directed to a supposedly fabulous restaurant, we're excited to eat, we get there, and it closed for the day 15 minutes prior. And it's like the most disappointing moment you've ever experienced (at least temporarily). C'mon, you know what I'm talking about.

Thus, we realize that desperate times call for desperate measures: we just have to settle. We're starving. We'll go to the nearest possible dump for any kind of sustenance. We don't care anymore. And chances are, it will be an entirely forgettable, over-priced excuse for a meal.

Well, that happened to us, sort of but not really. I think (okay, I know) I was a little more melodramatic about the recommended restaurant being closed than Matt (per usual). So as a last ditch, we landed in a divey looking pizzeria. Said dive had a wood-burning stove, though, so that seemed promising. We told the super nice guy at the front that we needed a cheese pizza.

Five minutes later, out comes this:

Isn't it funny looking?! It was so delicious, though! The sauce was tomato garlic perfection, and the crust was crunchy and tasty. I learned later that Uruguay is known for its pizza. We gobbled it up, told the worker we loved it, which, in turn, apparently thrilled him, and then we promptly ordered another one.

In the meantime, he brought out something for us to try. It was a pancake of sorts called faina. He explained that faina is a Uruguayan and Argentinian specialty and is made with garbanzo bean flour. I learned from Wiki research that natives often put it on top of their pizza to eat! He suggested we pour a little sugar on it and eat it as is. Here's Matt enjoying a piece (it was delish!):



















So, how does one vacay in Montevideo? Like, what do you do there? Well, there are miles of beaches, so you can easily beach it. But Matt and I just walked, roamed, wandered, rambled, etc. I'm talking a lot of walking. Seriously.

A large part of the city is very similar to our lovely ol' neighborhood in Mexico. That is, just a bunch narrow streets, significant tree canopies, with a melange of colonial, Art Deco (my fave), and modern architecture.

Below is a picture of our beautiful hostel. It's located in a very old part of town. The ceilings were massively high. I was talking to an architecture student from New York staying there while we were, and she said that she counted the walls to be 67 bricks tall! It was cool.

Beautiful sunsets, ugly harbor and port:

So, it seemed as if the fancy Montevideo airport had its grand opening like 13 minutes before we arrived; it was so immaculate and new. Doesn't it look a little bit like a beautiful version of the Metrodome, Minnesotans?

Here, here!

We love our grandparents!!! They are hugely important parts of who we, Matt and I, are. Thus, I'd like to honor two of them via blog:

Matt's gramps just passed away. A wonderful, loving (not to mention, totally lovable) man. WE WILL MISS HIM. A LOT.

* * *

And, to my grandma: Congratulations on 80 years! I am so proud to be your favorite (if only) granddaughter. Matt drank this beer in Uruguay last weekend (for those not in the know, Patricia is my grandma's name). Even though you're not a drinker in the least...this one's for you, grandma.

Here, here!

Vega Central

Santiago, thanks for constantly trying to win back my love this week. It's working. Especially when you use food as bait.

Today, we headed over to Vega Central, the mammoth fruit and vegetable market a few blocks away from our apartment. It was a heavenly experience for us (being the vegetarian-based people we are).

This place is seriously massive. It's open seven days per week, and it's very busy. BUT it's so cheap, fresh, and awesome. Santiago's known for its stinky, bloody, big fish market. For seafood lovers, it's a cool experience. In my opinion, the veggie market is so much cooler. We'll definitely be taking any potential guests to witness it.

In the same breath, however, we'll forewarn any potential visitors to watch their shins as elderly (seemingly ruthless) Chileans push their carts full of plant-based foods through the crowds with reckless abandon. Ouch, dudes!

Beautiful grapes:















Saw a lot of this pumpkin. If you look closely, you'll noticed a knife stabbed into it. Instead of buying the whole thing, you ask them to cut off a chunk. We'll try some sometime:



















Corn, with lightning speed knife-wielders removing husks.















Potatoes:
















Tons of Melon:



















Beautiful Ginger:



















Onions:














Eggs:











Avocadoville:

Over-the-top, irresistible candied fruits:














Matt eating our super-sweet scrumptious strawberry skewer:

We left the market with all of this lovely stuff below for under 10USD!! On the left are purple potatoes. They're amazing and beautiful. When we'd buy them in Austin, they were $6 per pound! Looks like we'll be doing some awesome cooking, potential visitors!

Random Photo: Turnin' the Corner

Proof that Santiago still stands:

I snapped this one on the rooftop of our apartment a couple days ago. Hard week, that's a no-doubter. But the week's over now. And I feel renewed.

Ready to enjoy this place [still a lot left to be loved, as evinced in the photo].

Ready to be happy [and less bummed and less anxious] to be here.

Still feeling ready to help [when they need me].

Look at those beauteous Andes in the background! Oh mother nature, way to scare me and captivate me all at the same time!

Random Photo: Salience

The earthquake's still at the forefront of the brain because, well, everywhere we walk we're constantly dodging bits of sidewalk cordoned off with caution tape (labeled peligro), due to loose building rubble in danger of falling on the old cabeza. Oh yeah, and it's probably not helping that we're bombarded with dramatic, constant news stories about the quake and its effects. NOT TO MENTION, we're still feeling subtle, yet constant replicas (aftershocks). I swear it's all making me a little motion-sick.

I'm trying to volunteer and be useful, but the volunteer organizations are requesting only donations at this time. So yeah, I'm kinda zombie-ish right now.

Here's a church, sans steeple. Bent, broken, and crooked steeples are now a common sight throughout the city.