Walking

One of our great joys here is taking long walks. Flat little Uruguay does not have much variation in scenery, and the sameness can be boring after a while for someone like me whose idea of hiking means steep trails. However, we have found some lovely places to walk which we have not yet tired of. Behind La Gaia is a large fenced in piece of land, maybe 500 acres. Tired of walking only on the road near the house, one day we climbed through the wire fence to walk through an adjoining field. The next day we did the same thing, but went further. Finally on one of our walks, we were met by a man on a horse, the caretaker of the property. We asked for his permission to walk there. After he realized we were not hunters, he gave us his blessing. The property has hills, outcroppings of lichen covered boulders, remants of old stone walls and strange steep-sided valleys. We have to skirt the occasional herd of cows. Even in autumn, tiny wild flowers in yellow, white, purple, pink and blue still manage to thrive. We see liebre (giant rabbits), which to my immense dissatisfaction, our dogs love to chase. I suspect that I will never get it through their thick skulls that this is unacceptable. We also see eagles and a strange long-necked quail-like thing that bursts into the sky with a sudden noisy racket. These creatures nestle unseen in the grass and do not reveal themselves until nearly stepped on, when they startle me as they take off. Also hiding in the grass is the occasional snake. Last week Cesar found a red, yellow and black snake. I said, "oh, that snake is just pretending to be poisonous. See how it looks like a coral snake?" Well, it is a good thing I did not choose to show off by picking it up. I looked it up in our reptile book when we got home and saw very clearly that it was indeed a coral snake. Note to self: stop picking up unidentified snakes. No, scratch that, do not pick up ANY snakes. I will put herpetology right next to mycology on my list of hobbies to NOT take up... With those, it is too easy to die from a misidentification. So, we made it home alive and I am typing this from beside the fireplace instead of from a hospital bed.

Near miss with a coral snake.

Incomplete house.

Happy dogs.

Big sky.


Our own personal stonehenge.

We Like It Raw

Our milk, that is. We have discovered raw milk and are now hooked on the stuff. Devotees of raw milk tout its health benefits. I cannot prove that it is better for me, I just like the fact that it is delicious and all natural and I know its source. Before you get all squeamish about drinking unpasteurized, unhomogenized, straight-from-the-cow milk, consider this - do you know where your food comes from? Do you care? I hope you do. I do, and that is why I am happy to know the cow that our milk comes from and to know the farmer who cares for her.

I admit that initially I had reservations about drinking unpasteurized milk. This was just due to my ignorance. I did not know what it would taste like and have heard many warnings against its consumption. The milk was brought to us as a gift from a friend who knew we were curious about his cows. I assumed that it should be used in cooking rather than consumed as is, so I used our first five liter batch to make dulce de leche. However, we liked the rich creaminess and clean taste of the milk and were soon asking for more. Cesar, true to form, immediately researched the topic and discovered some very interesting things about fresh, raw milk.

For starters, the pasteurization process which kills harmful bacteria also kills beneficial bacteria and destroys certain enzymes which aid digestion and boost the immune system. One of these friendly bacteria is lactic acid bacilli. When this heat intolerant bacterium is destroyed, the milk cannot sour and simply decomposes eventually. This is why old pasteurized milk gets very stinky and foul after its expiration date, whereas raw milk simply sours. Pasteurization changes the composition of milk in other ways too. It makes calcium less soluble and therefore more difficult to absorb by the body and it makes the lactose more soluble, therefore more quickly absorbed. Of course one takes the risk of consuming harmful bacteria as well, such as Listeria, E. coli and Salmonella. But if the cow is pastured rather than kept in a pen and the farmer takes all necessary precautions to keep her clean and healthy, I feel this risk is small. I believe I would be more likely to get nasty pathogen like E. coli from eating bagged spinach in the USA than I would from consuming milk from our friend’s cow. However, be careful before you try this at home, kids! If you do not know the cow and do not have complete confidence in the person who cares for her, do not drink it raw.

We visited our farmer friend at his house for the first time. He let me milk the cow. As a new experience, it was fun, but I wouldn’t want to have to do it every day. His family has four cows and they must be milked twice every day. It does not matter if you are sick, it is freezing cold outside or you are just sick of milking the darn cow - it has got to be done. Each cow gives about seven gallons of milk a day. Perhaps we will own a cow someday. For now though, we are happy just to have a source of fresh raw milk that we know and trust.

Are you curious about raw milk?
Further reading:
from the Washington Post: The Raw Deal
from the New York Times: Making Their Case for Raw Milk and Should This Milk Be Legal?

To Kiss, or Not To Kiss?

The New York Times reports today that many New Yorkers are now squeamish about handshakes and air-kisses because of fear of transmission of swine flu. Not so in Uruguay, where a single kiss on the cheek as the usual greeting between friends and acquaintances is a deeply engrained part of the culture. Even now that the Uruguayan public health minister has confirmed that there is one suspected case of infection in the country, I don’t think people will think twice about kissing, and I hope they don’t.

There are slight variations in the custom for men and women. Men meeting for the first time usually shake hands only. However, male relatives and close friends will exchange a single kiss on the cheek. Kissing men on the cheek is in no way an affront to a man’s machismo. I have seen members of that uber-macho profession, the Policia, exchange a kiss in hello. Women, however, can kiss everyone. So, women kiss women and men; and men kiss women and close male friends and relatives. Got that?

The same goes for goodbyes. Just like my mother does in the U.S., much to the chagrin of my dad, when you leave a place you say goodbye to everyone individually. Not doing so is unthinkable. And of course, if you kissed them hello, you kiss them goodbye.

As for the kiss itself, it is a quick but sincere peck on the right cheek, not exactly an air-kiss and not a lingering pressing of lips to cheek – that would be icky. In Uruguay, they kiss once, not twice like they do in Italy.

Overall, Uruguayans are very polite, to each other and to foreigners. I think this kissing custom may have something to do with that. When a kiss is exchanged in greeting people, one is reminded of their humanity. There is less of a barrier between people and I think this makes them more considerate of others.

This is never okay, though, anywhere.