Lousy hotels I visited

I name the city if I don't remember the hotel's name
1. Luba, Bioko Island: hotel rented your room to couples during the day, a colleague went to hers to take a shower and found a couple having sex in my colleagues' bed!
2. Hotel du Port, Cotonou: unless you tip staff in advancer they give you a lousy service. When I told a colleague about this, he advised to tip hotel staff beforahand: someone dialed his room at 3am and when my angry collague asked why he was being bothered at that time, hotel staff at the reception said because he tipped them so generously, he had been called fist- the hotel was on fire.
3. Iquitos: the maid removed pieces from a toy I had purchased to my kids, they got an incomplete set
4. Monrovia: the roof leaked (even during the dry season) and my room was flooded
5. Juliaca: a storm broke a window's glass, hotel wanted me to pay and because I refused I was asked to check out.
6. Arequipa: I saw Loxosceles reclusa spiders on the wall (its bite can kill you). Also, hotel rented rooms to sex workers.
7. Managua: Hotel hosted a noisy show for adults at night
8. Quetzaltenango: Hotels' disco put speakers at max volume to attract customers, noise leaked to reception that acted as an amplification box
9. Boaco: Rooster awake everybody at dawn
10. Lancaster Hotel, Buenos Aires: a cloud of mosquitoes kept me awake

Going tribal : fete de la musique, Paris

For one day, the hyper-regulated French society went nuts : people parked anywhere, ignored traffic lights, drank, smoked pot and danced in parks and streets at the sound of rock or ethnic loud music. Sister Lili invited me to a soiree organized by her social group, comprised mostly by intellectuals, artists and professionals, active fighting Le Pen`s xenophobia and other social ills. The party was at a small plaza surrounded by cafés. The one I sat by was ran by North Africans. All walkways were rapidly filled with small tables. and neighbors –blacks, arabs, French came for 18" sandwiches of arab sausage or kabob. Some asked the price (3 euro each) but bought none. Most drank beer, some wine. I ordered Moet & Chandon to impress Lili`s friends. Lili said the only occassion she saw Champagne being served in that watering hole was when a North African neighbor was released from jail. I did not care champagne failed to bring sucess with the girls, as quid-pro-quo is frowned upon there. I was the only there wearing a jacket, one guy walked barefoot as he always did, even in winter. Lili`s friends gossiped about one girl snatching boyfriends from her peers. Musicians played mostly rock in French while people from all ages, colors and socioeconomic levels danced or clapped hands. Lili's club paid musicians with money made selling sandwiches , and the cafe kept the income made selling drinks. Before going home toured the Belville / Menilmontant neighborhood, where homes belonging to the Parisian proletariat had been renovated for the burgueois bohemes. Rode a taxi as the Metro's door were closed by 2am- they are kept open on winter nights to prevent clochards from freezing.

Going tribal: Malawi

People addressed me as "bwana" and that reminded me Tarzan comic books. Went to the grill restaurant (watch video later), friend Yamo ate with his hand as my wife's grandma used to do. Poor kids retrieved leftover french fries ("chips") served in humongous amount. Regrettably I had already eaten most of my share.

Filled up with diesel the Totoya landcruiser- almost two hundred dollars in fuel! Then crossed croc-infested Shire river in the Zambeze basin, not difficult if there was a concrete bridge as in our case. Crossed Mozambican border. Tried to get some Portuguese wine there. Bumped on a Peace Corps volunteer from MD, advised not to buy that cheap wine. I had tasted cheap Spanish wine in Equatorial Guinea, the worst ever, so we returned empty-handed.

In our way back, we told jokes. Most jokes I heard in Africa are about infidelity, I asked my colleagues what was funny about infidelity when AIDS was killing so many here. They insisted infidelity IS funny. That reminded me of an occasion when I told my mother-in-law (MIL) that I had barely managed to flee when a female colleague entered my hotel room and insinuated herself. MIL laughed hard and said the man capable to flee under thse circumstances had not been born yet. My Malawian colleagues said that MIL thought I was a liar. I had concluded MIL believed me but lost all respect for me because from her perspective, I was not a manly man anymore.

Complete sentence: I am so old that when I was a kid...

... milk was delivered to my home by a man on horseback
... detergent was first introduced in my home town
... there were no plastic bags, balls or toys. The only plastic at home was bakelite
... people could buy goodies at the market and pay half a penny
... "The wizard of Oz" was shown for the first time in my home town
... people took weekly baths- as many Frenchmen still do I am told
... my nanny concocted a medicine for her arthritis using my urine as ingredient
... people made their own comic books cutting and pasting newspaper's funny pages
... the main way to travel was the train
... markets did not have carts, you hired an Amerindian to carry your purchases on his back until you got home
... radio programs were broadcast alive, with a live audience. TV had not started.
... Doris Day was the hotest girl on the movies
... photos of me were printed in sepia tone
... kids played with kaleidoscopes, little wooden guitars, made flipbooks
... chicken was eaten only on special occasions i.e. weddings, birthdays, or Christmas

How To: Give Nutrition Education to your Child

Kids are egocentric, so you better give them messages about sharing food without taking somebody else's portions. I was explaining my son Jose Miguel when he was 5-6 years old that kids grew faster than adults and therefore kids should be given priority to receive nutritious foods such as liver and meat. Jose Miguel instantly replied: then pass me your chicken. He ate my share for a long time.

Jose Miguel absorbed rapidly my educational messages and used the information to manipulate his nanny. Jose Miguel would ask her things like "what vitamins are contained in rice? After she pledged ignorance, he would tell her that since he was better informed, he should decide when to eat what and how much.

How to: explain the Doppler effect to a kid

When I was a 6- year old I visited my uncle's dairy farm near our home town. While there a whistling train passed nearby. My sisters and I noticed that the pitch was higher when the train was approaching and had a lower frequency when getting away from us. Sister Miyaray hypothesized trains might have two whistles, one to let people at a station know the train was approaching it, and other to announce the train was departing. The only inconsistency: there was no train station in sight.

Later on the same day, I fell into a deep hole in the ground and had to be rescued. My parents concluded I had been frightened to the point I could get ill from "susto" and took me to the traditional healer at the market to be prescribed herbal teas.

WANTED: Stolen Art

In or about 1975, I enrolled in an art class on Saturdays. I would go very early and start a work, then rush to the University Hospital to attend regular morning class, return at noon to the workshop to finish my art project. Sometimes I got distracted in my art project and one of my classmates would come to remind me I had a clinical conference at the same time.

Once, I finished a carbon drawing of a curtain, I had played with light and was specially proud of my job. My colleagues said looked realistic. My art, posted on the wall, was gone by next Saturday. All other projects done by my classmates in art class had not been taken away. It was possible it had been taken by somebody, jealous of a work that could have made his/her own work look clumsy by comparison, or even worse, someone could have used my drawing to wrap fish or light a fire! But as a consolation, I preferred to think that my work had been valued to the point that someone took risks to steal it. My consecration as an artist!