La playa, la playa...

Well, if you read me, you know that sooner or later something irresistible is going to happen to me on a Miami bus. And it always does. I was in South Beach this afternoon and this gorgeous girl got on the local shuttle wearing nothing but a bikini. To be truthful, she was boarding the bus and trying to cover up at the same time. Inevitably, she caught the attention of a flock of old birds of the "entonce" clan. One of them started to exclaim "la playa, la playa" while the others proceeded to tsk, tsk, and otherwise manifest their disapproval. Something similar happened to me many moons ago on the island of St. Croix. We had just arrived from Boston on a very hot July day (whilst up North we had been sleeping under a blanket until a few days prior to the trip...) and I didn't know that it wasn't kosher to go food shopping in beach attire. So, off I went after some groceries clad in my lovely Java Wraps shorts. All of a sudden, I noticed this big, black lady following me around the aisle mumbling "beach at Pueblo, beach at Pueblo," this being the name of a major supermarket chain based in Puerto Rico. I learned a lesson that day: no matter in how many countries you have lived, the cultural faux pas may take place in your own backyard, so to speak.

The beach here is NOT at Pueblo, but right behind my building. At six-thirty in the morning I was pretty much alone with this bird. Java Wraps was a great clothing store in Christiansted. I hope it's still there.

It's All Peachy...and Fui...

I've been terribly quiet for several weeks and for a good reason: after publishing a Brazilian journal based on this blog, I've lost my voice. Not in the literal sense, but figuratively. I've received a couple of e-mails, though, that made me decide to write one last (maybe penultimate?) time. One came from a former Peace Corps volunteer who had written many months ago asking for a recipe. Sally wanted to make sugary sun-dried peaches in the traditional manner of Pelotas, Rio Grande do Sul. I had found a recipe for her and responded with a caveat: this is going to be a complicated process...I never thought she'd actually go for it, but guess what? I'll let you read about it in her own words:

Guess what....I DID make the passas de pessego--but I only used 12 peaches. It wasn't easy to remove the seed and still keep the peach intact. It took a little practice and a lot of patience. But, I did it. The sugar water baths proved interesting. I did some guessing here. But, this, too, worked. Then came the sunshine part. The first three days I did have sun and then the clouds rolled in. I had the peaches on a glass top table with a glass storm window over them--propped up on fruit baskets. Little containers of water were at the base of the table legs to keep the ants away. I had been through this procedure when making sunshine strawberry preserves--so I knew the routine. Anyway, it was great fun watching the peaches change over time. I would bring them in at night (we have raccoons in the neighborhood) and turn them over. The process worked and the peaches turned out extremely well. I did put them in a dehydrator for a few hours towards the end to make sure they were dry enough. That was really because some days were not so sunny. And, so, I have 12 (whoops) 11 peaches (I ate one). They are really good. So, thanks for sending me the recipe. Bet you thought I wouldn't do it!!!

The other e-mail was from a friend in Brazil who was rushing out the door to go to the airport, but wanted to tell me something before she left. To say goodbye, she used a word, a verb, that I'd seen used before in this context: fui. The past tense of ir, Portuguese for "to go." I guess it's the more economical equivalent of "I'm outta here." So, fui...

Here are Sally's sugary peaches. And my "Blog da Arara" book is available for purchase at www.blurb.com.

PS - I'm in love with Portuguese fados and want to go to Lisbon now. Wish I could write fui here, too!