While traveling around Europe, our group coined the term ‘dupe’ which is basically to be tricked. Dupes happen all the time especially in a foreign country where you do not speak the language. Thus far I have been rather lucky and I have only been duped twice. Here they are…
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Football vs. Futbol
Yesterday was Superbowl Sunday. I have never been a big fan of american football. In fact I didn’t even know who was playing until a few hours before. I googled “Where to watch the superbowl in BsAs” and found my spot. Around 10pm I left my house anticipating a night full of english language and rabid football fans frothing at the mouth wearing that football jersey everyone told them not to bring to south america. On the way I stopped by my favorite empenada place to fill up on some cheap eats and booze before I was forced to pay american prices. The place was packed with people standing on toilets and sitting on the beer fridges which is not normal for this place. But it was normal when the TV is showing the Boca Jrs v. River Plate futbol (soccer) game. I decided to stay and mingle with the locals and drink two liters of Quilmes and watch the first half of the game which ended at 1-0 boca. I then found my way to the superbowl bar and watched part of the game. The futbol game was between two of the biggest teams in the country being played at a neutral field so I thought it was a good cahnce to compare to the superbowl.
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Ko Phangan and the Full Moon Party
Once a month during the high tourist season, there is a giant congress of travelers on a small island on the east coast of Thailand called Ko Phagnan. In the summer of 2005, along with my traveling companion Nic, I set my scopes on this congress which is better known as the Full Moon Party. This tale is not only of the full moon night but as well as the amazing island that is kind enough to cater to such a debauchery filled event.
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Uruguay Road Trip
A short distance from Buenos Aires is the small little country of Uruguay. Widely known as the most popular vacation spot for all the Argentinos as well as an easy hop, skip, and a jump for travelers to extend their visa duration. I convinced my traveling companion, B, to join me as we embarked on what ended up being a 1500 km road trip around the south-eastern heel of the country. As usual I made no prior arrangements and was really only armed with stories and suggestions that I had heard from people I had talked to. These stories mostly consisted of “Everything is booked and you will not find anywhere to stay.” and other methods of saying pretty much the same thin since it was the high season.
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Voluntary Tasering
I love foosball… it can appear to be extremely haphazard and frantic to many people watching. But there are moments in a foosball game where the game has been building up slowly, no goals for ages, a few near misses, some amazing blocks and desperate acts of defense, but no goals. The players know that this cannot go on for ever and the tension will be building. People can be talking to the players and they will probably respond but their mind is at the level of the little red and blue men on the field. You can be in the middle of a conversation with the girl of your dreams, Gandhi, a white shark, buddha, your most feared enemy, it doesn’t matter, you are liable to wildly scream in their face and risk punching them as you flip out after scoring that goal you have been waiting for so long. Here is a time that happened to me…
It was freshman year in university and Pat (I think) and I were playing foosball at the Phi Psi house. While we were playing we are listening to Tele and a sorority girl talk about her sororities male beauty pageant. Tele, being the stud that he is, is supposed to participate but alas he is sick and is unable to participate. They are trying to figure out who should fill in his spot. While one of these intense foosball moments I previously mentioned is going on, I suggest that I will do it. She tells me I need a talent. I consider the situation while blocking an endless onslaught from Pat on the mini soccer field. I half jokingly say that I will get tasered (stun gunned, whatever). The idea is well received by everybody around but I don’t care as I think I am about to score with a fantastic shot from the right back, but Pat’s goalie is up for the challenge. She says we need two people. Nuthead says he will dress up as a cow and beer bong some milk half jokingly. This idea is as valid as the previous one and suddenly everything is solved. I scream “GOAL, BOOYAH MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!” to Pat and the long string of tension has broken after wrapping itself around us for at least 20 minutes. I look up and then ask the pageant planners, “OK, so what happened?”
So the day of the pageant rolls around and Nuthead and I need to prepare as we have done nothing until this point. The format of the pageant is in four parts: swim suit, knowledge quiz about the sorority, formal dress, and talent portion. Nuthead had a cow outfit for some reason and there was always a beer bong around the house. Milk would be purchased right before the event. His swimsuit was something rediculous like board shorts, a wife beater, and an inflateable ducky around his waist. His formal dress was some killer 70’s/80’s looking suit. My swimsuit was my roomate Geoff’s speedos which had a waist of size 24 while I am easily a 32 with huge legs due to me playing soccer 7 hours a day with a stunning tan right above the knees. My formal atire was purchased at the salvation army that day and ended up being pretty slick considering it was thrown together last minute. We went to Grants for Guns to purchase a taser. They were happy to give us one since we claimed it was a gift for Nuthead’s sister. We got two 9-volt batteries and we were ready.
Right before we goto the auditorium we decide to try the taser real quick to make sure it wouldn’t kill me or something on stage. We put the batteries in, turned it on and this thing was mean! We barely touched eachother with it and didn’t want to feel how it would be if you jammed it into your side. The sound is the worst part about it as it sounds like somebody is slapping a lardy thigh with a ruler 5 times a second with fury.
We show up backstage and find our lovely “coaches” from the sorority. They tell us the answers we need to know for the knowledge quiz and then give us a bag of goodies. The best goodie in the bag by far was the gatorade bottle with the label removed and replaced with a homemade label with pleasing pictures and encouraging words and the contents of the bottle were replaced with pure Captain Morgans spiced rum. Nuthead and I decide that since the pageant was soon we should drink all of the rum so that it would take effect by the time we got to the more difficult talent portion of the contest. A great idea of course.
The social science lecture hall was absolutely packed with people overflowing out the back and people sitting on the floor. Thankfully we had a large contingent of Phi Psi’s claiming a good chunk of the seats in the middle left. I come to find out later that the arts department was having a very rare kegger party and our very non-artistic friends had found their way there and practiced the art of drinking so they were floating on the same level as Nuthead and I were after our special gatorade. I gotta say I was feeling a little nervous at this point. The pageant starts and its all bells and whistles and lights and flash. The guys are announced and they walk out on the stage in their swimwear and take a little turn on the catwalk. Everyone else other than Nuthead and I had boardshorts on from what I can remember and with heavy concentrations of muscles on the upper body. My legs looked ludicrously large with this tiny speedo (the first time I had worn one) and who knows how the package looked but I felt that I got a good reaction from the crowd.
We are then told to sit down, without changing cloths I might add, and prepare for the knowledge portion of the pageant. The questions were things like “When was our sorority founded?” and “Who was the chapter advisor?” Nuthead and I were drunk at this point. We didn’t do well but the scoring was obviously not important as they were just arbitrarily claiming how much each question was worth.
We then all go back stage to change into our formal attire. Nut much to say for this round other than we both looked good and we both were more drunk than we were during the quiz round.
Now for the talent portion. I think there was some buzz in the crowd as word had trickled out as to what was going to happen even though we were trying to keep it somewhat of a secret. Nuthead goes first. He walks out in a cow outfit, udders and all, with a beer bong in his hand. He then pours a half gallon of milk into the beer bong and then proceeds to drink it to completion. Amazing! Takes a bow and walks off the stage. The crowd loved it and applauded him as he gracefully found the nearest trash can and then yakked it all out, backstage. The other guys were doing things like playing the guitar, or building them letters, or singing, you know… real talents. Then my turn comes. I come on the stage in my formal 70’s gear lip syncing to “When I think about you I touch myself” and the plan was to do this for only 30 seconds or so. Of course Nuthead let me sweat and this lasted for a minute or more as I performed some weak dance moves. Finally I waved him out he comes in his cow outfit and tasers me in the side until I fall on the ground writhing in pain. The crowd is gasping and laughing and applauding I think. Then in an effort to not lose the crowd, Nuthead comes over and stuns me again with a prolonged 3 second stun with me twitching on the ground the whole time. Then follows up with one final blast just to make sure I am done which I relay to him through some contorted facial expression that I was definately done. The crowd now is not really sure what to say or do as they seemed to feel my pain and were not sure if I was alright. I got up, bowed and stumbled off stage. Good thing I was drunk.
In the end we did not win. It was all rigged and the guy who was not that exciting who built letters for the girls won. It was not important to us. However, our section of the crowd was getting a little rowdy and the outcome was the final straw. Kamran gets his hands on the taser and starts stunning anyone he can reach in his area of the crowd, strangers or not. Bodies are hurdling the chairs two at a time and girls are screaming. Kamran finally gets the taser wrestled away but only after getting a few of our friends for good measure, especially Phil. This cleared the whole auditorium and needless to say the sorority was not pleased with our actions. I think they banned us from any more events like this or at least they didn’t tell us about them.
I had some hardy scars on my side for about 6 months after that night but it was well worth it and a very good memory from university. I would take a tasering any day over mase which will need to be discussed in another blog.
If anyone has any pictures or movies from this event PLEASE get in touch with me. Mine were lost in the great picture deletion of junior year.
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Running with the Bulls
This entry was pulled from my travel journal from Europe summer expedition 2003…
July 12th
For Justin, Jen, Mike, and myself, this was our first hard day of travel. An outrageously uncomfortable Ryan-air flight to Pau in the south of France. Get lied to by a taxi driver who said there was no buses to the train station. Our first encounter with the impatient French while trying to buy and then change our train tickets.
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Tomatina!
Six years ago traveling through Europe I heard about this event called Tomatina which was described to me as a giant Tomato fight. At some point I saw some travel TV show at the Tomatina and at that point it made the list of things I had to do before I depart this Earth or at least settle down in some white picket fence house with 2.5 children and a golden retriever. In the summer of 2008 I made my pilgrimage and here is the story of how it all came to be…
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Olavarria Bike Race
I show up in Buenos Aires and I am antsy for some racing action on mi bicicleta. I go online and look for whatever I can find and come across a very helpful website at http://www.infobiker.com.ar. I look on the calendario for wahtever I can find and see that there is a race in a province of Buenos Aires in a city called Olavarria. Perfect! So I am staying in the province of Capital Federal in the state of Buenos Aires. Olavarria is in it’s own province in the state of Buenos Aires. This basically means that the place I had to go was 350 kilometers from where I am living. No matter, I was committed.
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Being Chased
I seem to be having quite a few dreams recently where I am being chased either by some sort of evil force or as if I am a fugitive. Last night I had one where it seemed we were in a mountainous area which reminded me of my buddy Len’s old house at Lake Nacimento. Pretty much the yeah buds group was having a great party and then it all turned sour and I needed to run. I successfully got away through a hidden gap I knew about in the fence and when I got through the other side I was captured indicating that someone had ratted me out. (more…)