Three Religiions
Facing the wall
So why can't I get along with clergy?!? Inbox
Yesterday I went to lunch at a local reunion of all the Anglican/ Episcopalian clergy in the Bolivian diocese which was being held at the Bishops house here in Cochabamba. After lunch the bishop’s wife walked into the house with this gigantic cast on her hand. I thought for kicks I would squeeze her “cast” and ask her if it hurt. “Ha-ha” right? Well as luck would have it when I squeezed the supposed cast the bishop’s wife let out a blood curdling scream. Apparently the cast was not a cast but a bandage instead. Nothing is what it seems any more. Give me the days when a cast was a cast and sharp, shooting, exquisite pain is what it seems! Anyway the bishop’s wife started screaming and crying then all of a sudden she bent over and latched her jaws onto my arm and held this excruciating grip for what seemed to be an eternity. I really did not know what to do at this point. “What would Jesus do?”
Then later I took my parents to dinner with all the priests that were united for this weekend meeting. I took my parents because my father is an Anglican priest and he did not have a ride as he was from out of town. My mother who is also an ordained deacon was part of the group. So there I am in the middle of all these priests and the bishop. Well, as any one in their proper mind would do I ordered several beers to take the edge off the pressure of the company that I was in. So after a couple of mean liters the bishop asked me how my trip went to Chile and if I had ridden any funiculars. I then told him that we had indeed ridden a funicular to the top of the center hill of Santiago to where there is a big statue of the Virgin Mary. But what I apparently said was “I went up to the virgin but I did not get up on top of her…heh-heh…hiccup!” At this point I felt my parents sphincters tighten from 8 feet away and one of the younger priest dropped his head to the table and lost himself in uncontrollable laughter. Unfortunately he was the only one that really laughed. Their were two other priests that gave up a couple of nervous snickers and everybody else was silent. The Bishop then looked at me sideways and said “Amen brother.” As if to say “It’s a good thing you did not!”
If Gym would have been there he would have been right proud of his little bastard.
Steady as she goes!
FeO2
An afternoon at the matinee with short people
Yesterday marked the last full day I would be without my wife alone with the kids. Tammy has been gone to California visiting one of the MIL units (Mother in Law) as they seem to be a plethora of them around as of late.
Last Thursday my good buddy Christina took Thomas my oldest to the theater with her eldest Niko to see “The Golden Compass”. Her youngest, little Jake and my youngest, “Taddlein’ Madelyn” were both deemed to small to see the movie as they would get scared. So I became the man in charge while Christina went to see her movie while taking along her 2 excuses to get in as an adult. Of course I had absolutely no problem with this as the maid was the one who would be in charge half of the time cuz that day I got home from the office around 6:00. So when I finally did get home I had complaints of how unfair it was that the older ones got to see a longer movie than they did and that their video ended a long time ago. As if the THREE older ones started to watch their movie as soon as the door closed behind them.
The next morning when I was at the gym I looked through the papers to see if there were any other kiddie movies so I could fight the reported injustices that were delt to these poor marginalized people as I have always championed the short. So I found that “Alvin and the Chipmunks” or as they say around here “Alveen y las Ardillas” was showing. Now I know what you are thinking right about now “Sure Rusty…a movie for the kids...riiight.” Well think what you must, but I will say one thing in my defense, it is a lot easier taking kids to movies that you will enjoy than taking them to stuff you have to suffer through Pokemon for example. Besides it really was the Maddy and Jakes turn. So Saturday late morning Jake, aka Jakey, aka “el Juaquo” (pronounced “whoo-ǒ-ko”, I think I am the only one who calls him this….were buds) and Maddy both 6 set off for the their part of the great South American dream, their slice of the pie if you will.
So we got the theater a half hour late and ended up buying tickets for the next function which left us with about 45 minutes to kill. We were pretty close to lunch time so I decided to take the kids to the food court. When I sat them down Maddy started to pound her little fists on the table and chant a chant which she learned from Grandpa Jack aka “Um-papa” (pronounced “oom-papa”) on our last visit to the US “Food and water-for me and my men, food and water….”which upon reception of her hamburger she had four bites and announced she was done and turned around in her seat. This would be because everybody knows that there is always much more interesting things going on behind the table chair than what is in front of it. I had to force feed her half of the sandwich.
So about fifteen minutes later we got into the theater and both kids started to demand popcorn. Hmm. They presented a good argument though and this was that they wanted it! Who can argue with that! So they got a medium to share? We all headed to the ‘’sala” where at the door both kids grabbed their booster chair (for maximum enjoyment of the cinematic arts as needed by vertically impaired people). As I sat them down by each other I fitted the popcorn cup into the cup holder between them with an ominous feeling about the immediate future. About half way through the film and a third the way through the popcorn a little leg shot forward which was about the same level as the pop corn thanks to my friend the booster seat and knocked the popcorn cup on to the floor. When I picked it up I was only able to salvage the last third and replace it to its original position. Well the smacking and chomping sounds continued as Alvin and his consortium sang on. Around about the 18th stanza I noticed both Juaquo and Maddy were now on their feet and every now and then making quick dips and bows but never staying down to long as not to miss a musical note. It was kinda like that game at Chuckie-Cheeses where gophers heads pop out of their little holes and you whack them with the padded mallet all the while learning valuable lessons of environmental conservation. Of course there was nothing to pop these kids in the head with so I just sat there and let them continue building the flora in the GI Tracts. So a good time was had by all.
Later, on the way home I had to stop by the office to pick something up. So of course both children went in with me. This was apparently little Juaquos first stop by my office so upon walking into the reception room he was dually impressed when he saw my bicycle leaning against some seats (as I often ride my bicycle to work).
Jakey said to Maddy:
“Wow! There’s a bicycle”
Maddy: “Yah, my daddy rides it when Mommy won’t let him drive”
Any way they followed me back to the consult room as children this age just do not stay put. Then Little Juaquo got this smug look on his little face and started smack his little hands together as if he was dusting them off and said “So…this is where the doctor works ay.”
The response was “Yup, when he is not singing with Alvin, Simon, and Theodore”
Which by the way is not such a bad film if you like singing gerbils.
Have a great week!
FeO2
Don't never got no brain or nothing
On Jan 5, 2008, at 1:23 PM, Rusty
As you can see from the title of the blog this was the motto for this last holiday break which all-in-all turned out quite well. It started out with a church Christmas party in which I almost had to pull Johnnie (my secretary) out of a fist fight with the “Padre”. Apperently Johnnie is thinking that since he has been playing racquet ball with the Bishop and taking racquet ball blows to the back of the head with out complaining that he has some kind of special relationship with the powers that be. Any way I made Johnnie promise that if I bought those beers for him before the church Christmas party that he would behave. As folly would have it during the party Johnnie got his bad-ass look on his face and walked by the Padre and bumped his shoulder into the padre’s unsuspecting shoulder. The problem is that Johnnie is just way too cool.
So we also went to Florida for the actual holidays to be with the in-laws Jack and Audrey. You remember Florida is the state where the ex-president of Bolivia Gonzalo Sanchez de Lozada has been gone missin’ for a while now. Sumbitch that he is! This was very nice visit, of course, all though slightly uneventful. But there was the occasion when I got up to do my 2am feeding as often is the occasion is when I do not sleep around that time and I went to watch some TV. Well there I was watching the tube and I noticed the light get turned on in the kitchen and Jack went into the kitchen to do something. I did not really do much as I saw Jack go in and out (as I was in the middle of John Candies “Uncle Buck”) then wave “good night” as he went back to bed. Then the next morning at breakfast Jack looked at me and said “Sorry about last night.”
My response was “What are you talking about?”
“Well…the fact that I did not have any clothes on.”
“Hm, I really must start paying attention to these types of things.”
Once again I will be blaming the ADD on this one. But it does make me wonder how just how much nudity has actually missed in the past. I mean not everybody is just going to come up to me and prompt me “Hey buddy! I’m completely naked in front of you right now.” Although it would be helpful.
Then holiday travel is always a hoot! Tammy after Florida went to visit Irene her mother and I came home to Bolivia with the kids. At the airport Tammy was stressed to make her flight and America Airlines were not helping in her situation. She got so mad that she started showing her teeth, saying words, and bobbing her head up and down so her hair was flying all over the place. She kinda looked like a 80s head banger. Anyway she got off on her flight on time and left us standing at the counter. So wen it was my turn the woman working there sweetly told me that my flight was canceled and that if I wanted to make my international flight connection out of Miami I would have to go over land. So I grabbed the kids got a car and hugged Jack and Audrey goodbye and was off. After a trip from mid state Florida to Miami (and let me remind you that it is a long state) while driving at Hazard county speeds I still missed my international flight. So I had to re-accommodate to the midnight flight. When it was all said and done with I left for Bolivia about an hour after I was supposed to get there. I wish Tammy could have been there to head bang for me as I do not have the hair it requires.
When we finally got back to Cochabamba we were hit with the news that “Jack” the family, cat had just pooped out 2 new cats! The kids were of course ecstatic. But I was just left with 2 questions in my head: A) Jack’s old enough to be having kittens? B) Jack’s a female? Damn ADD!
FeO2
Toils and troubles
On Dec 13, 2007, at 8:33 PM,
So I lost my car today……again. I walked out of the office this am to run some errands and I looked around to find my car and it was no where in sight. Then I retraced my steps and walked all the way back to the gym where I found it right where I left it. Apparently I left the gym this morning and walked to the office instead of getting into my car which I had driven to the gym. I swear I think my ADD is getting worse. Several other things happened to me to make my mornings more difficult.
So with this in mind came up with a couple of things not only for me to do but for you
when you have a bad day:
First you can think about redecorating as I am planning on doing at my in-laws new house. I decided to go with the big lips shaped couch that will be set right beside that hand shaped arm seat. There will be a big plug-in neon flashing poster of an 18 wheeler to go on the wall behind the couch. That bad boys gonna burn all night long baby! Then there is the antique Zenith TV converted into an aquarium that will be filled with man-eating fish. And we definetly can not forget the old thread worn 1970’s plaid love seat with the holes worn into most of the cushions. These pieces of furniture are the best as you can always find change and old stale corn chips under the cushions after long make out sessions. Or if you are like me and have been alone all week it would be long TAKE out sessions. Or is it a long make IT out sessions when you are all by your self?
Second would be for you to join me in making fun of my best friends (Chris) new blog. I have been making myself feel better by uploading “mocku-posts”. I suggest that you try it cuz it really does make you feel better. http://www.andeanairwaves.blogspot.com
The last thing you can do to make your self feel better is to check out this new G. W. Bush gallery. It will be sure to put a smile on your face.
Allegations and other questionable truths
On Nov 11, 2007, at 8:29 PM,
I wasn't tryin' to put no "skinny" on Oprah. Alls I's sayin' is the girl needs a few stripes in the wall paper behind her, well.... that and a reinforced floor underneath her. Heh-heh! I hope that Dave and Sally have a good strong floor. I suggest concrete. A'yhoo you know how the ephedrine, aspirin and caffeine actually have the exct opposite affect on me than calming down. But those little pills are so funny looking!
But then again you are being the cruel one by trying to put the skinny on Evo with the "fat guy documentary" comment. I guess it is ok for South American presidents to be poked in the belly but not no Gringas! I see how it is.
FeO2
Lemel wrote:
Now - don't go messing with Saint Oprah!!! She don't need no skinny, she's perfect however she happens to be at the moment!!! I never would have thought you would participate in the skinnyization of American women. Go take some effedran and calm youself down.
All Evo needs now is his very own fat guy mockumentory outlining his politico-social-grammer exploits!
Rusty wrote:
Quotable quote:
-All men can be reached by flattery, even God can. (What, after all, is prayer?)
-All men can be led to believe the lie they want to believe.
-All men can be corrupted, each in his own way.
Niccolo Machiavelli
So I just finished a book that belongs to a friend of mine who does not even know that I have the book.. I have heard through the grape vine that this friend reads this book on a yearly basis. Odd! It is a good book but I think I have only read a couple of books twice in my life. The title is “The Secret of Santa Vitoria”. It is about this little town in Italy that has been growing grapes and making wine for thousands of years. The time of the book is set in the early forties during the WWII era. The story is of how the people of the town hide half a million bottles of wine from the German army who have come to confiscate it for the Reich. It is an interesting tail of different views of truth and how these views work for the best of the community and the conservation of tradition and leadership.
I also went and saw a Bolivian National movie called “Evo Pueblo”. It is basically the life story of Bolivia’s current leftist indigenous president Evo Morales. The cinematography is good as well as the music. But the problem is that they paint him out to be such a nice, sweet, sensitive, and slightly shy guy. Funny they mention nothing about his syndicate boss type leadership which is rumored to be quite brutal. Anyway, as far as the movie goes I will have to give it the same critique that Tammy gave “Harry Potter”. It complete lacked cool car chase scenes, sexy love scenes although there was the part where they showed a drunk Evo going around womanizing a bunch of cholita women. But by my standards this really did not classify as sexy. There was absolutely no Karate or martial arts of any kind. Unless you want to consider a bunch of evil looking soldiers kicking Evo in the head a form of martial art. There were no cool battle robots any where to be seen. I guess what would have made the movie better is if at the end Evo would have pealed off a mask to reveal he was really Goerge W Bush. Now that would have been a rye twist a la “Usual Suspects” but perhaps everybody would have seen that one coming.
But it is a good movie to create the cult of personality that every socialist leader needs to endear him to the masses. A few in the list that were popular for doing these type of things would be Mao, Stalin, Castro, and even Hitler with “Mien Kompf”. So I have just come to calling the movie “Evo huevo”
Now moving on to other things I have finally decided to reveal to you the life and times of my good buddy Rev. Gym. Here we have compiled a sort of time line of his life. This is so one can understand different aspects of R.G. as he is further brought up in future blogs. So with out further ado:
The Life and Times of Rev. Gym
-circa 1962 Born. Sired by “Waldo” the webbed foot circus performer from Czechoslovakia who impregnated a local-yokel young lady in Western Australia on his third “World Victory” tour. His tour stops included some small piss-ass village in the Czech Republic; Perth, Australia; Branson, Mo; and Lodi CA. They say he met his end somewhere in Idaho from some strange ailment he picked up in Mongolia or was it the Midlands, England?
1962-1967 It is said he was raised by wild dingo’s in the Australian Out Back.
1967-1970 Enrolled in the French Foreign Legion ROTC in the City of Perth.
1978 moved to Southern California, USA for rumors of constant run-ins with the Australian food and drug administration for trying to find a cheap substitute for vegemite.
1980 Lost his virginity to a wild-eyed hobo woman in the LA river wash way after she promised him the “world and all the gold he could eat’
1981 R.G. had legal problems as he tried to claim the copy rights to the Cama Sutra based on his experiences in the LA River.
1984-88 was on a series of previously mentioned (in other bogs) television game shows in which he won considerable amount of money only to squander the money on lawyers
1990 Gym was ordained by the Church of the Holy (whatcha-ma-call-it) in Modesto California via mail to order out of the news paper where by earning his tidal Rev. His states that he wanted to do this because it was his life dream to perform a mass babtism. Who can blame him?
Currently he lives as my neighbor here in Bolivia raising South American gerbils for the purpose of games of chance. He is also very athletic. Right now he is training and tanning for is first Ultimate Cage fight for which he will be going to Las Vegas for next februrary. He promised me when he gets back from his trip he will let me go mask shopping with him you know those things that fit tight around ones skull and make your lips pooch out the mouth hole.. I am going to try and get him to go with the blue with gold tubing.
If you have noticed any glaring omissions they will be brought up in future blogs. They can also be addressed by comments from me and/or the readers.
I would also like to welcome Dave and Sally to the blog list. Apparently they have been chosen to be finalist in the Oprah Winfrey “Cool House Contest” or something. This is a house that Dave and Sally built together. We all hope that this goes really well for Dave and Sally as they deserve to win. Perhaps they can make Oprah look thinner when she comes over for dinner after they win the first prize by my simple suggestion. I suggest whatever room Oprah is going to be filmed in that Dave and Sally put up wall paper with longitudinal stripes. It will make her look really skinny good. Seriously though we all wish you the best. Record the show for us as we do not get Oprah on this edge of sanity…. I mean the planet.
FeO2
August 4th, 2011 The Cannon
The Cannon
First Cyclical Rotation
It was a June morning and I was sitting in a coffee shop waiting for Helmut Gunther. It was Helmut who told me that he would meet me at the Cafe De Las Alturas the only cafe on El Prado that catered to gringos and their heavy need to a strong breakfast hit. Too many times had I been caught in a Bolivian cafe and only been offered a piece of bread and a cup of coffee. I am the type that needs solid protein before I start a day’s activities.
As I waited I went through my mail. That morning I received several pieces of correspondence addressed to Mr. Nicholas Birmingham. The one that caught my eye was from my lawyer addressing the final settlements of my divorce. Reminding me of the rather turbid circumstances for which I left Santa Monica - a rather emotionally violent divorce. I left the LA area to sign on with a third world development NGO. My lawyer assured me that this was the conclusion of a long drawn out insidious situation. But for some reason it did not seem like much of a conclusion. I looked down at my hands and wondered when this was really going to end in my head.
Helmut at this point was 30 minutes late. We were supposed to get together to discuss some initial training rides for the upcoming high altitude, off-road bicycle race. The Bolivian Uyuni International Invitational takes place in the Uyuni salt flats at an elevation of 3,656 meters (11,995 ft) and over the course of three days spends 400 to 500 kilometers, depending on who the final Bolivian race official is and how much chicha he has to drink that day. The last time I partook of that abominable beverage made of decomposed corn and other such ingredients served in a plastic cleaning bucket I was left with the worst hangover I have ever had.
I finally looked up to see a tall blond German dude with all the trappings of a hippy. The aguayo pants, the t-shirt with a coca leaf on it, and a Bolivian construction workers hat.
"Helmut, where the hell have you been? I have been waiting for you for almost a half an hour."
"I slept in. I was up late translating," Helmut referring to his free-lance job translating documents from Spanish to German. His biggest clients were the German embassy and a couple of import companies.
He then reached into his hippy macramé satchel and pulled out a cheap clipping from a Bolivian gossip rag saying something about aliens. The picture looked like some kind of cheap Logans Run knock off poster.
I looked at him and said "Uh-uh...no way. I’m not gonna get into that crap with you right now. You promised we would get together head up to El Alto for a ride.
Helmut defending himself "Dude, if you have ever looked up in the sky at night you will know that this stuff is for real."
I was getting annoyed, "The last time we had this conversation it ended with you telling me that I need to wear some kind of tinfoil cap on my head to sleep in to keep aliens from manipulating my thoughts. I bet that is something you don’t even do."
Helmut with a nervous side glance "Of course not......you know how I get after a few beers."
"Dude, you’re German for the love of God. Don’t give me that. Anyway Pablo is supposed to be meeting up with us on the outskirts of El Alto at kilometer 15 so we better get going."
I paid the bill and headed out the door with Helmut towering behind me. Soon we were headed up the steep grade on the road to the city of El Alto on the Andean high plains which was built around the airport serving the capital of La Paz, given that the latter is situated in a giant gulch and the former has only flat spot big enough to accommodate an airfield. As we moved up towards the rim of the geological toilet bowl the pedestrians could look into the old Land Rover I was driving and see me gesticulating to Helmut about how useless it was for him to waste his time on these hobbies of reading these extraterritorial sightings and the several internet clubs he had joined with the same special interest. I said "Perhaps if you spent as much time with your star trek mag-rags perhaps you could make a dead line or two on your translations and spend some time writing."
When we finally reached our destination we caught a visual of the vehicle we were looking for - an old Nissan Patrol with an athletic looking young man leaning against the driver’s side door smoking a cigarette. Upon jumping out of the Land Rover I questioned Pablo "How the hell do you plan on riding that salt flat if you keep on smoking like that?"
Pablo, giving me his champion smile, "Some of us were born to run and others are born to be hall monitors."
"So I guess you decided to take the day off from the tourist shop?" I pressed him referring to his tourist cycling business with which he took hapless backpackers down the Road of Death the second most dangerous road in the world that went from the high planes down into the low steamy jungles of Los Yungas, which is something like a 12,000 foot drop.
"Nah, I got the guys running the tours today. I have got to get ready for this race."
Helmut was tying his long hair into a pony tail "So how many Yanks, Frogs and Limeys have you lost off the cliff this year?
Pablo smiled snubbing out his cig "Definitely not enough Krauts."
I had to butt in "Ok guys, break it up. Them bicycle saddles ain’t gonna penetrate themselves."
So we un-racked the bikes and were off. Four hours of riding at 13,500 feet above sea level was a good start on our training.
After getting back to the cars Pablo stated “Hey, I am headed down to the Berlin Cantina to hook up with Freddy. Are you in?” The Berlin Cantina was a catch all back packer’s pub that was patroned by pretty much whatever came rolling off the bus or train this basically being where Pablo got most of his clients.
I started to hesitate but then Helmut started eagerly “Yeah we’ll be there.” So we started back into the city. Upon arrival we noticed Pablo had beaten us in and was already sitting across from Freddy one of our rotund, short, Bolivian acquaintances. Freddy worked days as security at a bank but evenings and weekends he helped Pablo as he had a penchant for female tourists. As odd as it seemed to the rest of us Freddy had impressive luck with the opposite sex for as homely as he was.
We started for the table when our path was cut by Julieta the buxom waitress that had come to know us from our frequency. “¿Cómo es? Neek!!”
“Hey, Jules!”
“Your friends have already started without you!” She said jerking her head in the direction of Pablo and Freddy.
“I can see that.”
“I heard you guys went for a ride without me today. What’s that about?”
“Sorry, were headed out again Wednesday. You should come.”
“I just may. I’m off then.”
She followed us to the table. A salacious grin spread across Freddy’s face, “Julieta, them pants just keep coming out of your closet!”
“Yeah, well it helps with the tips.” Julieta rolling her eyes “So two more Huaris is it?”
“Sure, make them liter bottles.” I said anticipating one of my favorite brews of the highlands.
After Julieta left with her note pad Freddy immediately got into my face “Dude what is wrong with you?! Jules is like all over you and you’re such a dead fish!”
“I don’t know. I love Latinas but it is just not time yet.”
“Dude, you should come out with me next Friday. “ Freddy’s eyebrows were now popping up and down like pistons “I met these three Brazilians and they are hoooOOooot!”
“I’ve got to work.”
I noticed that Pablo was distracted and looking off at three guys at the bar. “What’s up?”
Pablo shaking his head “See that guy over there? People call him Razor. He is an Israeli or something like that.”
“So?”
“Well he is here to train for the invitational.”
“Really." What does he ride?”
“A Cannondale Scalpel.”
“I would not be caught on a Cannon out around here. That would be ripped out from under you so fast.”
Freddy interrupting “Dude, I heard about that guy. He is something of a legend and he is not even from around here.”
Pablo annoyed “I heard when he was out on a trainer ride out on the flats he got hammered by a couple of cops on a Suzuki. He got fucked up, his front tire and the handle bars were all busted. It was a mess.”
I protested “What! Cops never go out there. There ain’t nothing to patrol.”
Pablo went on “That’s not all. The real weird part is he got right up and picked up the bike and started chasing the cops who sped off across the flats. When he got off about like 300 yards it looked like he got back on the bike.”
I was not so trusting “How do you know all this? You act like you were there.”
“No, but Fernando one of my shop boys was on the ride and he related the whole incident to me.”
“Fernando! I don’t trust that tea head to even tighten a bolt on a tricycle”
Pablo just shook his head.
At this point Freddy got up “It’s time for Freddy El Huevudo to go into action!” Then he wondered over to the bar and struck up a conversation with a couple of blonde girls who looked like they could sell you dread juice buy the gallon.
I stated “Well, I am interested in asking these guys for myself.” I got up and as I started their way the guys who almost intuitively headed for the side door and disappeared behind a crowd of hobos who were spending their trust funds sent to them by their rich corporate parents.
The night wore on and the beer flowed. By the time Freddy got back his eyes were half closed? He then plopped down in the chair next to mine and began to slur “Nick, you are the only gringo I trust.” Before I could see what was coming he planted a kiss on my left cheek. Then he put his arm around Pablo and said the same thing to him, even though Pablo had never been further north than Columbia. Pablo, with his blurred vision, said that he felt the same about Freddy. It came time for Helmut who started to shake his head. But before he could protest Freddy was on top of him and all you could see was Freddy’s blubbery back and Helmut’s frantically waiving arms. “Greater love hath no man than 2 drunks for each other.”
Second Cyclical Rotation
The days went on, and training sessions past. Freddy as usual never showed up as he made his many promises. Then one evening I got a call from Pablo saying that they would all be meeting that night at the Berlin Cantina. Seeing that the activities I had planned were sitting in my apartment and eating Top Ramen, I decided to mix it up.
The bar was unusually smoky that night, and I found the guys sitting in our usual spot. I had barely sat down when Freddy got up and started to chat with the same blondes that were there the other night.
I turned to Helmut, "So, what’s up?"
Helmut got an excited look on his face and started babbling "You know that woman I met on the Sci-Fi dating web site service?"
"Yeeeeeah,” I admitted slowly.
"Well, she is coming down for some training and staying for the race. She really wants to meet me."
"Great! Now I don't have to watch Harry Potter with you anymore."
"Seriously, we have everything in common."
"That I have no doubt."
“Her name is Carole.”
At that moment the music system grinded into action. The Village People's YMCA started blaring over the speakers. I looked up to see Freddy with an overly serious, melodramatic look on his face at the head of a pyramidal dance formation across the floor. The two blondes had silly smiles and were the second tier behind him, with a plethora of people behind them. Freddy led the whole group in the whole Y-M-C-A ritual with practiced precision and without error.
"I can't understand why or how he does these types of things." I shook my head in wonder as I looked at a man who could move around mass around like it was a light feather pillow.
I decided that I needed a hot toddy so I headed to the bar. In a few minutes Freddy’s theme was over and the pyramid was breaking up. Freddy came up to the bar beside me sweating "Somebody pass me the fire water before I die!!!" Then he noticed two women down at the end of the bar to my right. He nodded one of the bartenders "Hey Anthony, who are those two gringas over there?"
Anthony smiled "I have no idea, but I saw Orengo over there chatting with them."
Freddy formed his greasy smile "Hey Anny!" The second bartender ignored him. "Aaaaaaanny!" Still the Orengo did not turn around from cutting lemons and talking to a few other patrons at the bar.
Anthony pleaded, "Dude, you’re playing with your own life."
"Alright. Hey, Anastasia ¿Un momento, please?"
Just then with lighting quickness Orengo whipped the knife she was using on the lemons so fast and so close to Freddy's nose a few drops splattered across Freddy's face. "You call me Anny one more time and I'll shove this blade right through your damn eye!"
Freddy jumped. "I just wanted to know if you knew those people down the bar!"
"Do your own dirty work, Freddy." Then she went back to talking to the three men sitting at the bar on her other side, all regulars at the Berlin Cantina who would slowly get hammered together. The leader was this guy they all called Reverend Gym. He was rarely ever caught without his 14th century style green cape, with his long gray hair riding over the high collar and his matching gray beard meticulously clear of the purple chalice from which he drank Mint Juleps. To his left was Dan Moriarty, a Catholic missionary. Out of the three he would drink the least out of solidarity for the poor, as he felt guilty that he could not stomach chicha. Then there was Daryle, an American down working with the DEA. Politics were always at a fever pitch among the spirits, and if it was not the affairs of the state it was Rev. Gym telling his story about how he first lost his virginity (a story that changed every time it was told). By this point of the evening Daryle's forehead was getting dangerously close to his fifth White Russian. For some reason Orengo found them entertaining.
Anthony feeling sorry for Freddy, "I’ll tell you what. I'll tell you what. Some guy was just here and bought a drink but left before I could give it to him. I will just give it to the closest woman and say it’s from you."
Freddy immediately brightened up. Upon getting her drink the woman turned to Freddy and smiled. Freddy reciprocated. Soon Freddy was slowly slithering down the bar. "So, what is your name mi amor?"
The woman winked "I’m Lisa but if you’re dangerous you can call me Sharp."
Freddy's eyes widened and a quiver went through his second chin. "Oh, I’m dangerous!"
Lisa introduced her mother. "Me and my mom are backpacking through South America." Liz was a very stately woman. She smiled cordially and went back to reading a tourist book while Lisa and Freddy continued their conversation. At this point I had about all I could take so I headed back to where Helmut and Pablo were seated. Helmut was still talking about Carole.
I made an attempt to change the subject "Sooooo, when is the next time we will be headed for the salt flats?"
Helmut reaching for a bottle of Huari beer. “Let’s go this weekend when Carole gets in. She’ll want to go out with us."
"Fine. I need to get out and do something this weekend," I agreed.
Helmut then returning to his fixation "You know, Carole and I have been chatting about the subject that the ancient Incas had a legend that aliens from outer space would come to earth to mine the salt flats."
"What would they mine?" I jested "Did they come to mine the lithium because they were depressed aliens? Heh-heh" Unfortunately this statement brought back memories of taking medication grade lithium for my own adolescent angst.
"Hell no! They came to mine an ingredient to fuel their ships with a level of technology that we have not yet understood."
As the music started up once more I noticed Lisa and Freddy slow dancing to Shania Twain’s I Feel Like Woman, what seemed like a standard tune at all Bolivian fiestas.
I got up. "Yeah, it’s time to go home."
As I walked out Rev. Gym and Dan followed, both with one shoulder under Daryle’s arms as he hung between them unconscious.
Third Cyclical Rotation
So the week went by. Most nights were the same. I went home from the office to my empty apartment and sat down to a bottle of scotch and expressed my anger to the apparition of my ex-wife who sat across the table from me. Then I would go to bed after listening to more of The Cure than can possibly be healthy.
Saturday finally rolled around, the day the gang was supposed to get together for a ride out on the salt flats organized by the race foundation. When I got there early in the morning I was one of many. I went to the stand that was sponsored by the Berlin Cantina and found my friends.
Pablo was there telling Freddy that he should not participate since this was the first training ride. Freddy shook his head and said "I told Lisa that I would ride and that is that."
Pablo retorted "Huevon, this ain’t no joke. I know you want to impress your new girlfriend but this is for people who have been doing this for some time."
They both turned to look at Lisa who was daintily sipping on a Perrier. Freddy smiled at her then turned back to Pablo "No, I plan to show Lisa that I can pump the same cylinders out here as I can in the bedroom. I’m Freddy El Huevudo!” As he said this he rocked his hips back and forth.
The Berlin Cantina stand was set up like a bar with various tables around it. There were many other stands around as well. They peddled everything from bicycle parts and paraphernalia to popcorn. Anastasia and Anthony were there behind the bar with their usual uniforms and their usual posture. As I walked up to the booth I heard “Hey Neek, over here.” I turned to see Julieta sitting at a table with her boss Austen. Austen Bowie was the owner of the Berlin Cantina. He originally came to Bolivia to sell oil rig equipment to the transnationals in Santa Cruz. Due to rumored run ins with his boss (it is rumored that it had something to do with his boss’ wife) Austen moved to La Paz and started up the cantina.
I sat down “I can’t believe you are actually got a bar out here.”
Julieta chirped up “Today it is all mineral water, juices, Powerade and soda.”
Austen “That’s right, Nick. Today it is all about the sports drink market.” Then he lifted a bottle of Perrier that was wrapped in his ever present neoprene drink insulator. Austen would never be seen with a drink of any kind without his “huggy”. As the matter of fact one could purchase their own personal huggy with the Berlin Cantina (BC) logo at the cantina or at any event it sponsored.
“You know this is the third training ride that the organization is putting up and there have been up to 300 participants. There are 150 that are staying in the trainer camp right now, just two hundred meters from here.” Austen commented.
“We're also official sponsors of the Invitational,” bubbled Julieta.
“Yup, things are gonna go well with this ride, alright.”
Just then Helmut walked around the corner with a woman. I got up to greet him.
“Helmut, for a minute there I thought you weren’t gonna make it.”
“That was no worry about that. Nick, this is Carole; Carole, this is Nick.”
I noticed that both Helmut and Carole were wearing matching Lost In Space t-shirts. “Nice t’s” I quipped.
Helmut “Aren’t they great. Carole brought them for us down from the States.”
Carole “Nothings to good for my little Gerry-Kraut,” then they both giggled and started pecking each other on the lips.
“Sooooo, you guys thirsty?” I asked
Helmut “Yeah, I could use something.”
As we got to the bar Lisa and Freddy had located themselves there as well. Freddy had an irritated look on his face as Lisa was talking to Anthony.
Lisa inquired, “You do a lot of traveling?”
“Yeah, I get around. My last trip was to Pamplona, Spain where I did the running of the bulls.”
“Isn’t that where they all run in front of the bulls through the streets. Weren’t you scared?” Lisa admired.
Anthony boasted, “No, I am one of those guys that likes to suck the marrow out of life.”
“Ha! That’s not the only thing he sucks!” Anastasia quipped.
Anthony flashed her an angry look. By this point Freddy was pulling Lisa back to one of the tables. “We need to center our selves before the ride. We are wasting our time on useless chit-chat.”
It was at that point I noticed Anastasia with a rather large bulge protruding from her cheek. “I didn't know you chewed coca,” I wondered.
Anastasia, “It’s not coca; it’s tobacco.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Just started today.” Anastasia flashed her Selma Hayek smile showing brown-juiced teeth and small specks of debris between them.
Anthony looked at her, “Don’t swallow the juice or else you’ll be green.”
Anastasia snapped, “I can handle my own tobacco! Now why don’t you go back to sucking on your marrow?!”
She smiled again and blinked her eyes then grabbed on to the bar to steady herself from an unexpected swoon.
Just then somebody stepped up to the bar beside me. I looked over and saw Razor.
"You!!" I exclaimed.
Razor looked at me startled. "Yeees??"
"I have been looking for you like....forever."
He gave me an incredulous look "I have been staying right here in the training camp. Who are you?"
"Oh sorry, I'm Nick." I offered my hand.
He pumped my hand cautiously "Soooo?"
"I just heard some rumors."
"You shouldn't believe rumors. They just get you into trouble."
"Ok.....so your race bicycles."
"Sorta" he sipped on a Powerade that Anastasia handed him "I do geological research as well."
"Really. For who?"
"I get grants here and there."
"Cool."
"Yeah, these salt flats are full of minerals you would not even believe existed."
Just then the conversation was interrupted by a wild "Yaaaahoooo!!!" We turned to see Lisa's mother Liz come flying by popping a wheelie on her bicycle.
Freddy turned to Lisa and said "Show off. I got more moves than Evel Knievel."
"I know you do baby. It’s just my mom's been training and that is why I am worried about you."
Freddy erupted "Baahh!"
Liz was wearing a bright red cycling jersey with letter on the back spelling out "I’m L. D. Duckrow - Eat my dust!!!!"
Liz took off her riding glasses "Come on, you guys! The ride starts in five minutes. We have to keep up with the water truck."
So we all got up and went to join what looked to be about 200 others rider. Austen and Julieta stayed in their seats emptying bottles of seltzer water.
The son was rising high. The pure white salt on the ground was reflecting the solar rays like a mirror. It was the type of place where the sun will burn you on one side and the icy high altitude winds will freeze you on the other.
The ride started, and Razor rode with us as I had been conversing with him. An hour went by and I noticed that Freddy started to argue with Lisa. "I’m not getting tired and I don’t feel like stopping for a rest!!" What happened next was a blur. "Watch this!" He doubled his pace and attempted to imitate Liz and pop his front tire off the salt. His speed uptake put him right beside Carole. As he attempted to pull up on his handle bars they snapped right off. Freddy’s loss of control caused his pedals to catch on Carole’s. He continued in a side sway. By the time they made contact with the salt the whole force of Freddy’s weight was square on Carole’s chest.
Freddy rolled off of Carole, dazed and scrambling for orientation. Carole did not move, except for a coughing fit.
Soon the First Aid bicycle was there. The paramedic rider looked and immediate responded, "We have to call an ambulance. But it won’t be here for at least an hour."
As we waited the coughing fits started to produce blood and her pulsed weakened. "What can we do?" pleaded Helmut in shock.
"There is nothing to do but wait." I said
Unexpectedly, on the horizon we saw a vehicle approaching. As the ambulance pulled up the paramedics jumped out and carefully started loading Carole.
"I don’t think there is anything left of her." I worried.
Razor then turned to me and said "Do me a favor. Get my bike back to camp and lock it up at the BC stand." He opened his back pack to pull out his bicycle lock and as he did so I saw some kind of lithic object crumbling. He then climbed into the back of the ambulance and closed the door just before it rumbled away leaving the rest of us on top of an ocean of salt.
Final Cyclical Rotation
Helmut and I spent the following day looking for the hospital to which they had taken Carole. We asked the ambulance company and they had no record of either her or the driver. We called all the major hospitals from the Uyuni to La Paz, but nothing.
We, of course, ended up back at the BC. Austen and his crew were back from the flats, and he was engaged in his usual activities of watching people come and go out of the cantina. Helmut and I sat down at the table with him. He barely looked at us “Did you find your lady friend, Gunther?”
Helmut gloomed, “It just does not make sense. Next time I see that Freddy I’m gonna kill him!”
Austen assured, “The race is in two days.”
I side-stepped the conversation. “I’m going to the bar. Who wants a beer?” Nobody moved, so I went and planted myself beside Daryle, the Rev. Gym and Dan Moriarty. Daryle spurred the conversation, “Duuude, you would never believe the dream I had last night!”
Dan hesitated. “Probably not.”
“Last night I dreamt that I was Thomas Aquinas and was having a terrible time trying to read Latin out loud. Every time I made a mistake a monkey would slap me on the head with a ruler on the bare skin of my tonsure.”
Rev. Gym pondered, “Ah yes, the Dumb Ox”
“The Dumb Ox whose low made Europe tremble,” smiled Dan.
Rev. Gym continued processing. “Either way Jung would state that your association with Aquinas represents the animal nature of your body, just like the monkey flogging your friggin’ melon. As for your soul, I would say you have none."
Daryle contested, "Aquinas has stated that the soul is 'the first principle of life' therefore you cannot deny me a soul, Your Holiness."
Rev. Gym conceded, "That would take some faith now, would it not?"
"Kierkegaard,” added Dan, “said 'Doubt is conquered by faith, just as it is faith which has brought doubt into the world,' meaning faith does not exist without doubt just as the material substance that is the body co-exists with the soul." His missionary instincts then kicked in. "How pure is your soul, Reverend?"
"I adhere more to what Nietzsche that Christianity is just a master-slave morality that only causes resentment in its own believer base....."
At this point I started feeling disgusted, I spun around on my bar stool getting ready to go back to the table murmuring, "I hate philosophical masturbation. The only good masturbation is real masturbation."
Dan overheard. "Isn’t 'real masturbation' an oxymoron....of sorts?" A peal of laughter exploded from the three.
I continued my retreat. "Damn existentialist bar flies!"
The next day was the usual humdrum for me. There was no news from Helmut until very early the next morning. I got a call that awakened him from a turbid sleep. I picked up the phone and checked the bedside clock. It was 4 am. Helmut was on the other end. “Nick, you have got to get over here now!”
“Where are you, Helmut?”
“At my apartment. Hurry!” Then Helmut hung up.
In fifteen minutes I was knocking on Helmut’s door. He poked his head out and looked down the hall both ways, then cautiously he let me in. To my surprise I saw Carole sitting on the couch looking forlorn. I stood there speechless.
Helmut, “I know what you’re thinking. I got a call about an hour and a half ago from the Hotel Ambassador saying that she was sitting in their lobby and she gave them my number. They called and I went and picked her up.”
I pushed by Helmut over to where she was sitting on the couch “Are you ok?”
“I’m ok I guess. Tired.”
“Where have you been?”
“All I remember is waking up in a hotel room putting on my clothes and going down to the lobby. Helmut’s phone number was in my back pocket. I asked the lobby receptionist to call and here I am. I want to take a nap now.”
I knew what I had to do. “Helmut, I call me if you need anything.”
“But where are you going?”
I left without answering. Soon I was down in the Land Rover headed out of town towards the flats. It was the longest I had ever ridden. I finally got in late noon. I drove up to the bicycle camp site and asked around for Razor. Nobody knew until I got to the MAS political party stand, the populist Movement Towards Socialism currently in power. There my good friend John Medina was handing out flyers and campaign buttons for the upcoming elections in which he was running for a low-level position in the city of Oruro.
“Hey John, have you seen Razor?”
“Yeah, actually I just saw him head out west with his bike loaded as if he was not coming back.”
“Thanks, John.”
He then stuck a party button in my hand “Don’t forget the name John Medina when it comes election time!”
“Sure thing, buddy.” I was off in the Land Rover out onto the salt flats. About 30 minutes later I spotted a bicycle,” I got closer and honked the horn. The rider stopped, and I pulled up beside him and saw it was Razor.
He got off the bike “What?”
I opened the door and got out “So…what about the rest of us?”
“That would be your own search.”
“A search that never ends, I gather.”
He smiled and looked off at the setting sun, “Well, I will give you something special then since you drove all the way out here. You know I have seen civilizations fall because they can’t get enough. It is always ‘more…more…more!’ Armies spread and fires burn. But I have learned that it is not in what you think you are missing or loosing, but what you actually have. How basic is that, Nick?”
“Two birds in the bush, ay?” He exhaled, “Yeah…that would be it.”
I shook my head.
“Nick you lost what was important to you with the ending of your marriage. But you have a community of support around you. They love you. This is something that you should develop. You have lots of work ahead of you, my friend. I have got to get going.”
I got back into the driver’s seat and watched him ride away. He disappeared where the sky met the salt. I stayed to watch the sun set. As the last rays disappeared, I saw a shooting star. I pondered “I do believe there is healing and justice for those who deserve it, though it seems most of the time it comes in ways never expected.” I looked around to millions of stars that filled the sky. They seemed to come all the way down to the ground all around the white desert. “Even for Bolivia, a country that seems it has never really gotten its fair shake. There could be justice somehow.”
Somehow I got back to my apartment. I slept the entire next day. I awoke early the next day to see on the local news channels that the race was off and running. I followed the event for the next couple of days.
One of those nights I was at the BC again. Both Helmut and Freddy were there alone.
“It would seem that Pablo was the only one of us who participated in this event in the end.” I said. They both somberly nodded. “Hey, Freddy. Where’s Lisa? “
“She said she had to get back to work. She owns a chain of private pre-schools across the Midwest. But her mother stayed on for the race.”
Helmut joined in “Carole said she had enough as well. She actually left with Lisa.”
“It looks like it is just back to us then.” I smiled.
A few days later the race ended. I picked up the early morning newspaper to see a beaming picture of Liz on the front page holding the first place trophy. Right beside her was yet another Cannondale bicycle, the one that took her to the finish line. I thought to myself “You would never catch me on a Cannon around here.”
FIN
FeO2
Author’s note: Currently the Salt Flats of Uyuni are being considered by several transnational companies for its lithium rich fields, since lithium is an essential component in the building of batteries. This may very well be a source of much needed income for the second poorest country in the western hemisphere.
First Cyclical Rotation
It was a June morning and I was sitting in a coffee shop waiting for Helmut Gunther. It was Helmut who told me that he would meet me at the Cafe De Las Alturas the only cafe on El Prado that catered to gringos and their heavy need to a strong breakfast hit. Too many times had I been caught in a Bolivian cafe and only been offered a piece of bread and a cup of coffee. I am the type that needs solid protein before I start a day’s activities.
As I waited I went through my mail. That morning I received several pieces of correspondence addressed to Mr. Nicholas Birmingham. The one that caught my eye was from my lawyer addressing the final settlements of my divorce. Reminding me of the rather turbid circumstances for which I left Santa Monica - a rather emotionally violent divorce. I left the LA area to sign on with a third world development NGO. My lawyer assured me that this was the conclusion of a long drawn out insidious situation. But for some reason it did not seem like much of a conclusion. I looked down at my hands and wondered when this was really going to end in my head.
Helmut at this point was 30 minutes late. We were supposed to get together to discuss some initial training rides for the upcoming high altitude, off-road bicycle race. The Bolivian Uyuni International Invitational takes place in the Uyuni salt flats at an elevation of 3,656 meters (11,995 ft) and over the course of three days spends 400 to 500 kilometers, depending on who the final Bolivian race official is and how much chicha he has to drink that day. The last time I partook of that abominable beverage made of decomposed corn and other such ingredients served in a plastic cleaning bucket I was left with the worst hangover I have ever had.
I finally looked up to see a tall blond German dude with all the trappings of a hippy. The aguayo pants, the t-shirt with a coca leaf on it, and a Bolivian construction workers hat.
"Helmut, where the hell have you been? I have been waiting for you for almost a half an hour."
"I slept in. I was up late translating," Helmut referring to his free-lance job translating documents from Spanish to German. His biggest clients were the German embassy and a couple of import companies.
He then reached into his hippy macramé satchel and pulled out a cheap clipping from a Bolivian gossip rag saying something about aliens. The picture looked like some kind of cheap Logans Run knock off poster.
I looked at him and said "Uh-uh...no way. I’m not gonna get into that crap with you right now. You promised we would get together head up to El Alto for a ride.
Helmut defending himself "Dude, if you have ever looked up in the sky at night you will know that this stuff is for real."
I was getting annoyed, "The last time we had this conversation it ended with you telling me that I need to wear some kind of tinfoil cap on my head to sleep in to keep aliens from manipulating my thoughts. I bet that is something you don’t even do."
Helmut with a nervous side glance "Of course not......you know how I get after a few beers."
"Dude, you’re German for the love of God. Don’t give me that. Anyway Pablo is supposed to be meeting up with us on the outskirts of El Alto at kilometer 15 so we better get going."
I paid the bill and headed out the door with Helmut towering behind me. Soon we were headed up the steep grade on the road to the city of El Alto on the Andean high plains which was built around the airport serving the capital of La Paz, given that the latter is situated in a giant gulch and the former has only flat spot big enough to accommodate an airfield. As we moved up towards the rim of the geological toilet bowl the pedestrians could look into the old Land Rover I was driving and see me gesticulating to Helmut about how useless it was for him to waste his time on these hobbies of reading these extraterritorial sightings and the several internet clubs he had joined with the same special interest. I said "Perhaps if you spent as much time with your star trek mag-rags perhaps you could make a dead line or two on your translations and spend some time writing."
When we finally reached our destination we caught a visual of the vehicle we were looking for - an old Nissan Patrol with an athletic looking young man leaning against the driver’s side door smoking a cigarette. Upon jumping out of the Land Rover I questioned Pablo "How the hell do you plan on riding that salt flat if you keep on smoking like that?"
Pablo, giving me his champion smile, "Some of us were born to run and others are born to be hall monitors."
"So I guess you decided to take the day off from the tourist shop?" I pressed him referring to his tourist cycling business with which he took hapless backpackers down the Road of Death the second most dangerous road in the world that went from the high planes down into the low steamy jungles of Los Yungas, which is something like a 12,000 foot drop.
"Nah, I got the guys running the tours today. I have got to get ready for this race."
Helmut was tying his long hair into a pony tail "So how many Yanks, Frogs and Limeys have you lost off the cliff this year?
Pablo smiled snubbing out his cig "Definitely not enough Krauts."
I had to butt in "Ok guys, break it up. Them bicycle saddles ain’t gonna penetrate themselves."
So we un-racked the bikes and were off. Four hours of riding at 13,500 feet above sea level was a good start on our training.
After getting back to the cars Pablo stated “Hey, I am headed down to the Berlin Cantina to hook up with Freddy. Are you in?” The Berlin Cantina was a catch all back packer’s pub that was patroned by pretty much whatever came rolling off the bus or train this basically being where Pablo got most of his clients.
I started to hesitate but then Helmut started eagerly “Yeah we’ll be there.” So we started back into the city. Upon arrival we noticed Pablo had beaten us in and was already sitting across from Freddy one of our rotund, short, Bolivian acquaintances. Freddy worked days as security at a bank but evenings and weekends he helped Pablo as he had a penchant for female tourists. As odd as it seemed to the rest of us Freddy had impressive luck with the opposite sex for as homely as he was.
We started for the table when our path was cut by Julieta the buxom waitress that had come to know us from our frequency. “¿Cómo es? Neek!!”
“Hey, Jules!”
“Your friends have already started without you!” She said jerking her head in the direction of Pablo and Freddy.
“I can see that.”
“I heard you guys went for a ride without me today. What’s that about?”
“Sorry, were headed out again Wednesday. You should come.”
“I just may. I’m off then.”
She followed us to the table. A salacious grin spread across Freddy’s face, “Julieta, them pants just keep coming out of your closet!”
“Yeah, well it helps with the tips.” Julieta rolling her eyes “So two more Huaris is it?”
“Sure, make them liter bottles.” I said anticipating one of my favorite brews of the highlands.
After Julieta left with her note pad Freddy immediately got into my face “Dude what is wrong with you?! Jules is like all over you and you’re such a dead fish!”
“I don’t know. I love Latinas but it is just not time yet.”
“Dude, you should come out with me next Friday. “ Freddy’s eyebrows were now popping up and down like pistons “I met these three Brazilians and they are hoooOOooot!”
“I’ve got to work.”
I noticed that Pablo was distracted and looking off at three guys at the bar. “What’s up?”
Pablo shaking his head “See that guy over there? People call him Razor. He is an Israeli or something like that.”
“So?”
“Well he is here to train for the invitational.”
“Really." What does he ride?”
“A Cannondale Scalpel.”
“I would not be caught on a Cannon out around here. That would be ripped out from under you so fast.”
Freddy interrupting “Dude, I heard about that guy. He is something of a legend and he is not even from around here.”
Pablo annoyed “I heard when he was out on a trainer ride out on the flats he got hammered by a couple of cops on a Suzuki. He got fucked up, his front tire and the handle bars were all busted. It was a mess.”
I protested “What! Cops never go out there. There ain’t nothing to patrol.”
Pablo went on “That’s not all. The real weird part is he got right up and picked up the bike and started chasing the cops who sped off across the flats. When he got off about like 300 yards it looked like he got back on the bike.”
I was not so trusting “How do you know all this? You act like you were there.”
“No, but Fernando one of my shop boys was on the ride and he related the whole incident to me.”
“Fernando! I don’t trust that tea head to even tighten a bolt on a tricycle”
Pablo just shook his head.
At this point Freddy got up “It’s time for Freddy El Huevudo to go into action!” Then he wondered over to the bar and struck up a conversation with a couple of blonde girls who looked like they could sell you dread juice buy the gallon.
I stated “Well, I am interested in asking these guys for myself.” I got up and as I started their way the guys who almost intuitively headed for the side door and disappeared behind a crowd of hobos who were spending their trust funds sent to them by their rich corporate parents.
The night wore on and the beer flowed. By the time Freddy got back his eyes were half closed? He then plopped down in the chair next to mine and began to slur “Nick, you are the only gringo I trust.” Before I could see what was coming he planted a kiss on my left cheek. Then he put his arm around Pablo and said the same thing to him, even though Pablo had never been further north than Columbia. Pablo, with his blurred vision, said that he felt the same about Freddy. It came time for Helmut who started to shake his head. But before he could protest Freddy was on top of him and all you could see was Freddy’s blubbery back and Helmut’s frantically waiving arms. “Greater love hath no man than 2 drunks for each other.”
Second Cyclical Rotation
The days went on, and training sessions past. Freddy as usual never showed up as he made his many promises. Then one evening I got a call from Pablo saying that they would all be meeting that night at the Berlin Cantina. Seeing that the activities I had planned were sitting in my apartment and eating Top Ramen, I decided to mix it up.
The bar was unusually smoky that night, and I found the guys sitting in our usual spot. I had barely sat down when Freddy got up and started to chat with the same blondes that were there the other night.
I turned to Helmut, "So, what’s up?"
Helmut got an excited look on his face and started babbling "You know that woman I met on the Sci-Fi dating web site service?"
"Yeeeeeah,” I admitted slowly.
"Well, she is coming down for some training and staying for the race. She really wants to meet me."
"Great! Now I don't have to watch Harry Potter with you anymore."
"Seriously, we have everything in common."
"That I have no doubt."
“Her name is Carole.”
At that moment the music system grinded into action. The Village People's YMCA started blaring over the speakers. I looked up to see Freddy with an overly serious, melodramatic look on his face at the head of a pyramidal dance formation across the floor. The two blondes had silly smiles and were the second tier behind him, with a plethora of people behind them. Freddy led the whole group in the whole Y-M-C-A ritual with practiced precision and without error.
"I can't understand why or how he does these types of things." I shook my head in wonder as I looked at a man who could move around mass around like it was a light feather pillow.
I decided that I needed a hot toddy so I headed to the bar. In a few minutes Freddy’s theme was over and the pyramid was breaking up. Freddy came up to the bar beside me sweating "Somebody pass me the fire water before I die!!!" Then he noticed two women down at the end of the bar to my right. He nodded one of the bartenders "Hey Anthony, who are those two gringas over there?"
Anthony smiled "I have no idea, but I saw Orengo over there chatting with them."
Freddy formed his greasy smile "Hey Anny!" The second bartender ignored him. "Aaaaaaanny!" Still the Orengo did not turn around from cutting lemons and talking to a few other patrons at the bar.
Anthony pleaded, "Dude, you’re playing with your own life."
"Alright. Hey, Anastasia ¿Un momento, please?"
Just then with lighting quickness Orengo whipped the knife she was using on the lemons so fast and so close to Freddy's nose a few drops splattered across Freddy's face. "You call me Anny one more time and I'll shove this blade right through your damn eye!"
Freddy jumped. "I just wanted to know if you knew those people down the bar!"
"Do your own dirty work, Freddy." Then she went back to talking to the three men sitting at the bar on her other side, all regulars at the Berlin Cantina who would slowly get hammered together. The leader was this guy they all called Reverend Gym. He was rarely ever caught without his 14th century style green cape, with his long gray hair riding over the high collar and his matching gray beard meticulously clear of the purple chalice from which he drank Mint Juleps. To his left was Dan Moriarty, a Catholic missionary. Out of the three he would drink the least out of solidarity for the poor, as he felt guilty that he could not stomach chicha. Then there was Daryle, an American down working with the DEA. Politics were always at a fever pitch among the spirits, and if it was not the affairs of the state it was Rev. Gym telling his story about how he first lost his virginity (a story that changed every time it was told). By this point of the evening Daryle's forehead was getting dangerously close to his fifth White Russian. For some reason Orengo found them entertaining.
Anthony feeling sorry for Freddy, "I’ll tell you what. I'll tell you what. Some guy was just here and bought a drink but left before I could give it to him. I will just give it to the closest woman and say it’s from you."
Freddy immediately brightened up. Upon getting her drink the woman turned to Freddy and smiled. Freddy reciprocated. Soon Freddy was slowly slithering down the bar. "So, what is your name mi amor?"
The woman winked "I’m Lisa but if you’re dangerous you can call me Sharp."
Freddy's eyes widened and a quiver went through his second chin. "Oh, I’m dangerous!"
Lisa introduced her mother. "Me and my mom are backpacking through South America." Liz was a very stately woman. She smiled cordially and went back to reading a tourist book while Lisa and Freddy continued their conversation. At this point I had about all I could take so I headed back to where Helmut and Pablo were seated. Helmut was still talking about Carole.
I made an attempt to change the subject "Sooooo, when is the next time we will be headed for the salt flats?"
Helmut reaching for a bottle of Huari beer. “Let’s go this weekend when Carole gets in. She’ll want to go out with us."
"Fine. I need to get out and do something this weekend," I agreed.
Helmut then returning to his fixation "You know, Carole and I have been chatting about the subject that the ancient Incas had a legend that aliens from outer space would come to earth to mine the salt flats."
"What would they mine?" I jested "Did they come to mine the lithium because they were depressed aliens? Heh-heh" Unfortunately this statement brought back memories of taking medication grade lithium for my own adolescent angst.
"Hell no! They came to mine an ingredient to fuel their ships with a level of technology that we have not yet understood."
As the music started up once more I noticed Lisa and Freddy slow dancing to Shania Twain’s I Feel Like Woman, what seemed like a standard tune at all Bolivian fiestas.
I got up. "Yeah, it’s time to go home."
As I walked out Rev. Gym and Dan followed, both with one shoulder under Daryle’s arms as he hung between them unconscious.
Third Cyclical Rotation
So the week went by. Most nights were the same. I went home from the office to my empty apartment and sat down to a bottle of scotch and expressed my anger to the apparition of my ex-wife who sat across the table from me. Then I would go to bed after listening to more of The Cure than can possibly be healthy.
Saturday finally rolled around, the day the gang was supposed to get together for a ride out on the salt flats organized by the race foundation. When I got there early in the morning I was one of many. I went to the stand that was sponsored by the Berlin Cantina and found my friends.
Pablo was there telling Freddy that he should not participate since this was the first training ride. Freddy shook his head and said "I told Lisa that I would ride and that is that."
Pablo retorted "Huevon, this ain’t no joke. I know you want to impress your new girlfriend but this is for people who have been doing this for some time."
They both turned to look at Lisa who was daintily sipping on a Perrier. Freddy smiled at her then turned back to Pablo "No, I plan to show Lisa that I can pump the same cylinders out here as I can in the bedroom. I’m Freddy El Huevudo!” As he said this he rocked his hips back and forth.
The Berlin Cantina stand was set up like a bar with various tables around it. There were many other stands around as well. They peddled everything from bicycle parts and paraphernalia to popcorn. Anastasia and Anthony were there behind the bar with their usual uniforms and their usual posture. As I walked up to the booth I heard “Hey Neek, over here.” I turned to see Julieta sitting at a table with her boss Austen. Austen Bowie was the owner of the Berlin Cantina. He originally came to Bolivia to sell oil rig equipment to the transnationals in Santa Cruz. Due to rumored run ins with his boss (it is rumored that it had something to do with his boss’ wife) Austen moved to La Paz and started up the cantina.
I sat down “I can’t believe you are actually got a bar out here.”
Julieta chirped up “Today it is all mineral water, juices, Powerade and soda.”
Austen “That’s right, Nick. Today it is all about the sports drink market.” Then he lifted a bottle of Perrier that was wrapped in his ever present neoprene drink insulator. Austen would never be seen with a drink of any kind without his “huggy”. As the matter of fact one could purchase their own personal huggy with the Berlin Cantina (BC) logo at the cantina or at any event it sponsored.
“You know this is the third training ride that the organization is putting up and there have been up to 300 participants. There are 150 that are staying in the trainer camp right now, just two hundred meters from here.” Austen commented.
“We're also official sponsors of the Invitational,” bubbled Julieta.
“Yup, things are gonna go well with this ride, alright.”
Just then Helmut walked around the corner with a woman. I got up to greet him.
“Helmut, for a minute there I thought you weren’t gonna make it.”
“That was no worry about that. Nick, this is Carole; Carole, this is Nick.”
I noticed that both Helmut and Carole were wearing matching Lost In Space t-shirts. “Nice t’s” I quipped.
Helmut “Aren’t they great. Carole brought them for us down from the States.”
Carole “Nothings to good for my little Gerry-Kraut,” then they both giggled and started pecking each other on the lips.
“Sooooo, you guys thirsty?” I asked
Helmut “Yeah, I could use something.”
As we got to the bar Lisa and Freddy had located themselves there as well. Freddy had an irritated look on his face as Lisa was talking to Anthony.
Lisa inquired, “You do a lot of traveling?”
“Yeah, I get around. My last trip was to Pamplona, Spain where I did the running of the bulls.”
“Isn’t that where they all run in front of the bulls through the streets. Weren’t you scared?” Lisa admired.
Anthony boasted, “No, I am one of those guys that likes to suck the marrow out of life.”
“Ha! That’s not the only thing he sucks!” Anastasia quipped.
Anthony flashed her an angry look. By this point Freddy was pulling Lisa back to one of the tables. “We need to center our selves before the ride. We are wasting our time on useless chit-chat.”
It was at that point I noticed Anastasia with a rather large bulge protruding from her cheek. “I didn't know you chewed coca,” I wondered.
Anastasia, “It’s not coca; it’s tobacco.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Just started today.” Anastasia flashed her Selma Hayek smile showing brown-juiced teeth and small specks of debris between them.
Anthony looked at her, “Don’t swallow the juice or else you’ll be green.”
Anastasia snapped, “I can handle my own tobacco! Now why don’t you go back to sucking on your marrow?!”
She smiled again and blinked her eyes then grabbed on to the bar to steady herself from an unexpected swoon.
Just then somebody stepped up to the bar beside me. I looked over and saw Razor.
"You!!" I exclaimed.
Razor looked at me startled. "Yeees??"
"I have been looking for you like....forever."
He gave me an incredulous look "I have been staying right here in the training camp. Who are you?"
"Oh sorry, I'm Nick." I offered my hand.
He pumped my hand cautiously "Soooo?"
"I just heard some rumors."
"You shouldn't believe rumors. They just get you into trouble."
"Ok.....so your race bicycles."
"Sorta" he sipped on a Powerade that Anastasia handed him "I do geological research as well."
"Really. For who?"
"I get grants here and there."
"Cool."
"Yeah, these salt flats are full of minerals you would not even believe existed."
Just then the conversation was interrupted by a wild "Yaaaahoooo!!!" We turned to see Lisa's mother Liz come flying by popping a wheelie on her bicycle.
Freddy turned to Lisa and said "Show off. I got more moves than Evel Knievel."
"I know you do baby. It’s just my mom's been training and that is why I am worried about you."
Freddy erupted "Baahh!"
Liz was wearing a bright red cycling jersey with letter on the back spelling out "I’m L. D. Duckrow - Eat my dust!!!!"
Liz took off her riding glasses "Come on, you guys! The ride starts in five minutes. We have to keep up with the water truck."
So we all got up and went to join what looked to be about 200 others rider. Austen and Julieta stayed in their seats emptying bottles of seltzer water.
The son was rising high. The pure white salt on the ground was reflecting the solar rays like a mirror. It was the type of place where the sun will burn you on one side and the icy high altitude winds will freeze you on the other.
The ride started, and Razor rode with us as I had been conversing with him. An hour went by and I noticed that Freddy started to argue with Lisa. "I’m not getting tired and I don’t feel like stopping for a rest!!" What happened next was a blur. "Watch this!" He doubled his pace and attempted to imitate Liz and pop his front tire off the salt. His speed uptake put him right beside Carole. As he attempted to pull up on his handle bars they snapped right off. Freddy’s loss of control caused his pedals to catch on Carole’s. He continued in a side sway. By the time they made contact with the salt the whole force of Freddy’s weight was square on Carole’s chest.
Freddy rolled off of Carole, dazed and scrambling for orientation. Carole did not move, except for a coughing fit.
Soon the First Aid bicycle was there. The paramedic rider looked and immediate responded, "We have to call an ambulance. But it won’t be here for at least an hour."
As we waited the coughing fits started to produce blood and her pulsed weakened. "What can we do?" pleaded Helmut in shock.
"There is nothing to do but wait." I said
Unexpectedly, on the horizon we saw a vehicle approaching. As the ambulance pulled up the paramedics jumped out and carefully started loading Carole.
"I don’t think there is anything left of her." I worried.
Razor then turned to me and said "Do me a favor. Get my bike back to camp and lock it up at the BC stand." He opened his back pack to pull out his bicycle lock and as he did so I saw some kind of lithic object crumbling. He then climbed into the back of the ambulance and closed the door just before it rumbled away leaving the rest of us on top of an ocean of salt.
Final Cyclical Rotation
Helmut and I spent the following day looking for the hospital to which they had taken Carole. We asked the ambulance company and they had no record of either her or the driver. We called all the major hospitals from the Uyuni to La Paz, but nothing.
We, of course, ended up back at the BC. Austen and his crew were back from the flats, and he was engaged in his usual activities of watching people come and go out of the cantina. Helmut and I sat down at the table with him. He barely looked at us “Did you find your lady friend, Gunther?”
Helmut gloomed, “It just does not make sense. Next time I see that Freddy I’m gonna kill him!”
Austen assured, “The race is in two days.”
I side-stepped the conversation. “I’m going to the bar. Who wants a beer?” Nobody moved, so I went and planted myself beside Daryle, the Rev. Gym and Dan Moriarty. Daryle spurred the conversation, “Duuude, you would never believe the dream I had last night!”
Dan hesitated. “Probably not.”
“Last night I dreamt that I was Thomas Aquinas and was having a terrible time trying to read Latin out loud. Every time I made a mistake a monkey would slap me on the head with a ruler on the bare skin of my tonsure.”
Rev. Gym pondered, “Ah yes, the Dumb Ox”
“The Dumb Ox whose low made Europe tremble,” smiled Dan.
Rev. Gym continued processing. “Either way Jung would state that your association with Aquinas represents the animal nature of your body, just like the monkey flogging your friggin’ melon. As for your soul, I would say you have none."
Daryle contested, "Aquinas has stated that the soul is 'the first principle of life' therefore you cannot deny me a soul, Your Holiness."
Rev. Gym conceded, "That would take some faith now, would it not?"
"Kierkegaard,” added Dan, “said 'Doubt is conquered by faith, just as it is faith which has brought doubt into the world,' meaning faith does not exist without doubt just as the material substance that is the body co-exists with the soul." His missionary instincts then kicked in. "How pure is your soul, Reverend?"
"I adhere more to what Nietzsche that Christianity is just a master-slave morality that only causes resentment in its own believer base....."
At this point I started feeling disgusted, I spun around on my bar stool getting ready to go back to the table murmuring, "I hate philosophical masturbation. The only good masturbation is real masturbation."
Dan overheard. "Isn’t 'real masturbation' an oxymoron....of sorts?" A peal of laughter exploded from the three.
I continued my retreat. "Damn existentialist bar flies!"
The next day was the usual humdrum for me. There was no news from Helmut until very early the next morning. I got a call that awakened him from a turbid sleep. I picked up the phone and checked the bedside clock. It was 4 am. Helmut was on the other end. “Nick, you have got to get over here now!”
“Where are you, Helmut?”
“At my apartment. Hurry!” Then Helmut hung up.
In fifteen minutes I was knocking on Helmut’s door. He poked his head out and looked down the hall both ways, then cautiously he let me in. To my surprise I saw Carole sitting on the couch looking forlorn. I stood there speechless.
Helmut, “I know what you’re thinking. I got a call about an hour and a half ago from the Hotel Ambassador saying that she was sitting in their lobby and she gave them my number. They called and I went and picked her up.”
I pushed by Helmut over to where she was sitting on the couch “Are you ok?”
“I’m ok I guess. Tired.”
“Where have you been?”
“All I remember is waking up in a hotel room putting on my clothes and going down to the lobby. Helmut’s phone number was in my back pocket. I asked the lobby receptionist to call and here I am. I want to take a nap now.”
I knew what I had to do. “Helmut, I call me if you need anything.”
“But where are you going?”
I left without answering. Soon I was down in the Land Rover headed out of town towards the flats. It was the longest I had ever ridden. I finally got in late noon. I drove up to the bicycle camp site and asked around for Razor. Nobody knew until I got to the MAS political party stand, the populist Movement Towards Socialism currently in power. There my good friend John Medina was handing out flyers and campaign buttons for the upcoming elections in which he was running for a low-level position in the city of Oruro.
“Hey John, have you seen Razor?”
“Yeah, actually I just saw him head out west with his bike loaded as if he was not coming back.”
“Thanks, John.”
He then stuck a party button in my hand “Don’t forget the name John Medina when it comes election time!”
“Sure thing, buddy.” I was off in the Land Rover out onto the salt flats. About 30 minutes later I spotted a bicycle,” I got closer and honked the horn. The rider stopped, and I pulled up beside him and saw it was Razor.
He got off the bike “What?”
I opened the door and got out “So…what about the rest of us?”
“That would be your own search.”
“A search that never ends, I gather.”
He smiled and looked off at the setting sun, “Well, I will give you something special then since you drove all the way out here. You know I have seen civilizations fall because they can’t get enough. It is always ‘more…more…more!’ Armies spread and fires burn. But I have learned that it is not in what you think you are missing or loosing, but what you actually have. How basic is that, Nick?”
“Two birds in the bush, ay?” He exhaled, “Yeah…that would be it.”
I shook my head.
“Nick you lost what was important to you with the ending of your marriage. But you have a community of support around you. They love you. This is something that you should develop. You have lots of work ahead of you, my friend. I have got to get going.”
I got back into the driver’s seat and watched him ride away. He disappeared where the sky met the salt. I stayed to watch the sun set. As the last rays disappeared, I saw a shooting star. I pondered “I do believe there is healing and justice for those who deserve it, though it seems most of the time it comes in ways never expected.” I looked around to millions of stars that filled the sky. They seemed to come all the way down to the ground all around the white desert. “Even for Bolivia, a country that seems it has never really gotten its fair shake. There could be justice somehow.”
Somehow I got back to my apartment. I slept the entire next day. I awoke early the next day to see on the local news channels that the race was off and running. I followed the event for the next couple of days.
One of those nights I was at the BC again. Both Helmut and Freddy were there alone.
“It would seem that Pablo was the only one of us who participated in this event in the end.” I said. They both somberly nodded. “Hey, Freddy. Where’s Lisa? “
“She said she had to get back to work. She owns a chain of private pre-schools across the Midwest. But her mother stayed on for the race.”
Helmut joined in “Carole said she had enough as well. She actually left with Lisa.”
“It looks like it is just back to us then.” I smiled.
A few days later the race ended. I picked up the early morning newspaper to see a beaming picture of Liz on the front page holding the first place trophy. Right beside her was yet another Cannondale bicycle, the one that took her to the finish line. I thought to myself “You would never catch me on a Cannon around here.”
FIN
FeO2
Author’s note: Currently the Salt Flats of Uyuni are being considered by several transnational companies for its lithium rich fields, since lithium is an essential component in the building of batteries. This may very well be a source of much needed income for the second poorest country in the western hemisphere.
October 15, 2010, Jack Ass!
So as I write you Jack Ass 3D is being released!!! I remember the first movie that came out with Johnnie knashville and the his crew. I watched it and remembered my days back at my old high school dorm. Those guys were the best!! We messed each other up and then horse laughed each other. I love and miss those guys. Sometimes it would come to blows but in the end we would always laugh....and we still do. Every now and then I play a hit on my own son. I will then laugh at him...then a day or later he will get me back. I laugh. I know one day I will come home tired from a long day at the office and something will hit me and leave me on the ground with thoughts in my head like "What the hell was that!!" And Thomas will be standing over me saying "Ahahahah, you fell for the oldest one in the book!!!" And I will laugh and say "I love you." He will say "Ha! You ol' fool! I love you too!!!"
Never come between a father and his love for his son. He as got good me several times already. The kid is a genious.He will best the best president the world has ever had!!
I remember the last time I saw my Grandfather Homer Firestone (the man for whom I was named for a foremost anthropologist and respected intellectual in his field) was dying of cancer and was able to accompany to the airport. He was under heavy painkillers so he could stand the small trip to the airport. I remember he reached over and pinched me. I thought my God that is soooo irritating and he said "You know I love you!!" That is the last memory I have of him. But that is the way we Firestones role.
Anyway, lots of guys out there know what I am talking about. I know my many of my woman readers don't know what I am talking about but even so. Take your man out to see Jack Ass 3D. If it seems stupid just look at him and laugh with him and love him. Because maleness maybe idiocy but in it self is genius!!!! If you don't believe me research several the most respectable art galleries in North America who have been already showing the movie.
Enjoy your weekend and don't be a snob.
Have a great weekend.
FeO2
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKwjU_pSSW4
http://rustyscaptainsblog.blogspot.com/
Never come between a father and his love for his son. He as got good me several times already. The kid is a genious.He will best the best president the world has ever had!!
I remember the last time I saw my Grandfather Homer Firestone (the man for whom I was named for a foremost anthropologist and respected intellectual in his field) was dying of cancer and was able to accompany to the airport. He was under heavy painkillers so he could stand the small trip to the airport. I remember he reached over and pinched me. I thought my God that is soooo irritating and he said "You know I love you!!" That is the last memory I have of him. But that is the way we Firestones role.
Anyway, lots of guys out there know what I am talking about. I know my many of my woman readers don't know what I am talking about but even so. Take your man out to see Jack Ass 3D. If it seems stupid just look at him and laugh with him and love him. Because maleness maybe idiocy but in it self is genius!!!! If you don't believe me research several the most respectable art galleries in North America who have been already showing the movie.
Enjoy your weekend and don't be a snob.
Have a great weekend.
FeO2
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKwjU_pSSW4
http://rustyscaptainsblog.blogspot.com/
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