I will drink Martinis and eat ceviche every day for the next 25 days.

Its been a while since I last wrote a blog entry, and the reason for it weas that in the last two weeks I did not manage to relax, think and write down what was happening around.

Right now I am at Mexico City's Airport waiting for my flight to Los Cabos, where I will meet my mom, my sister, Victor (her husband), my brother, Allison (his girlfriend), and the rest of the Castro family (mom's side).

Well, in the last days I have:
1. Been Nikolo, the German Santa Claus, in order to give little Jonathan (the son of two good friends) his goodie bag for behaving well all year,

2. Organised and moderated meeting with 17 participants from 12 different countries,

3. Finalised things at the office, so I could take 3 weeks off,

4. Had a christmass dinner with Hannes, Lindsey and Wall.e,

5. Bought presents like never before,

6. Packed 54 kilos of lugagge in two bags

7. Went to three good concerts and one bad concert. Goods were: Lambchop, Yann Tiersen and Torche; bad was a jazz gig by a pianist called Ibrahim something...

8. Made up with Sarah the schedule for the next Food Conspiracy Dinner in Vienna and Innsbruck (By the way, in Aeromexico's magazine there is an article on this kind of illegal restaurant movement and realised we offer more courses than the ones in the article from Brazil, Argentina and USA)

9. Edited a documentary with Verena

The points above are a sample of what happened in the last two weeks, but from now on, I will just relax on the beach, drink red Martinis and eat ceviche every single day...I am not exagerating, I will drink Martinis and eat ceviche every day for the next 25 days.

P.S. Ceviche ist that delicious mix between sashimi and gazpacho with lime and coriander.

a smiley in the title :-) OR Männer im Wasser

I was about 6, and Tita one year younger, when my mother asked us in Tita’s room a tough question for a child, at least for a child in our age. She told us “I am moving out today. I am going to live with your grandparents; do you want to stay here with you father or do you want to come with me?” Tita and I picked up the second choice. Tomás wasn’t asked, he simply came with us; he was not even two-years-old.

In the years after, I did have the feeling my father made a strong effort to re-bond with us. He later got married. Once, it may have been 1995, he took my sister and me to the cinema to see “The father of the bride”. A screwball comedy in which the main character (a man in the mid-life crisis) tries everything to improve the relationship with his daughter. I also remember that the movie had a happy end and that my father cried. Tita and I found that kitsch and funny.

Last Saturday Hannes and I went to the cinema to see “Allt Flytter” a Swedish film translated in German as “Männer im Wasser” (Men in water), but I think the English title is “the swimsuit issue”.

Allt Flytter is a visually beautiful (as all Swedish movies I have seen) and a fine comedy. The main theme is actually about friends and the sacrifices they make to save their friendship. There are many problems to solve in the movie (all of them have to do with the mid-life crisis), however the characters manage to solve them all in their very own way, in a way I haven’t seen in mid-life crisis-comedies.

The situations in the movie are so human and natural, and friendship plays such an essential role that I had to avoid crying at least three times. I did my best because I don’t like to be seen when crying…and Hannes was aside!

After seeing one of the most beautiful movie-endings, we went out of the cinema and Hannes told me that the film made his eyes wet several times, I thanked him for saying it first, and then I told him that the same happened to me.

I am happy my sister was not there, because she would have laughed like hell if she would have seen us there with glassy eyes, she would have laughed the way we laughed about our father back then…no, I know her, she would have laughed even louder :-D

Watching a beautiful film about friendship with my best friend was one of the nicest things I’ve experienced so far.

I hate waiting

For me, the most suffering memories I have from my childhood are always related with waiting. As a child I hated the eternal waiting for the Christmas day to finally get presents. The scariest moments of my childhood was when I waited for the school’s grades to reach my mom, and one of the worst: I sadly remember myself desperately waiting in my dad’s truck for him to come out of an office on a hot summer day.

I am sure that nobody likes waiting, never.

When you wait for a good thing to happen, for example waiting for someone you love at the airport is incredibly hard. For me, times runs slower than physics can explain. When I stand at the arrival gates waiting for my mom, sister, brother, every second feels like I am trying to reach a snail, but I can’t, because I am moving slower…every second.

When I wait for a bad thing to happen, for example when I first applied to get the Austrian citizenship two years ago, I had so much time to thing of all possibilities: what am I going to hear, what should I do if the answer is positive, what should I do if the answer is negative, and so on, back and forth. Time stretches and all you can do is think of possibilities, and when the possibilities are immense, time runs as if it would be no end.

At the moment I am waiting, I have been doing so for some weeks. I am trying to decode an answer but I simply can’t…there is no way out, the only thing I can do is...to wait.

The most egocentric blog-entry ever

Exactly one year ago I started this blog-project; it was actually planned as a way of communicating my adventures in Nicaragua, but now, this blog is actually my therapy.

Some of my work at the office implies data analysis. Yesterday, I analysed all my blog-entries (content analysis, without a list of pre-defined categories, the categories arose in the course of the analysis), then I did some basic statistics. Here some of the results:

The total number of blog-entries analysed was 46 (N=46).

- Food was the most common theme in all blogs, appearing in 27 of them (58%).

- In 40% of my entries I talked about drinks (for a series of reasons, I did not calculate the percentage of blog entries I wrote while drinking an alcoholic beverage). The most common drinks mentioned are: Prosecco, Chardonnay, Gin-tonic and chocolate milk.

- I was surprised when I calculated the percentages for the entries specifically mentioning girls, it was only 15%, and my age was mentioned only in 9% of the entries. Sincerely, I thought it would be way much higher.

This was a qualitative study, and when analysing the blog’s “mood”, I tried to be as objective as possible, but since I am the author of the texts and also of this analysis, I consider the level of interpretation was very low. Here the results:

- 48% of the entries can be considered as funny, and they are distributed all year long, however:
Frustration (10%) and Loneliness (9%) are present in entries written between
Oct ‘09 and March ‘10 (While in Nicaragua)

- Melancholy is present in 19% of the entries, and here the interesting data: 89% of the melancholic blog-entries were written in summer (between May and September)…a hell of a summer…

- Happiness (11%) comes only in the months of May and June. An interesting thing, since May and June were actually “melancholic” months. My interpretation: In order to cope with melancholy, I wrote about happiness.

- Music came in 20% of the entries. Childhood or children-related themes made up 17% of the analysed texts. Family and friends were counted in every fourth entry.

Summary: I love food and enjoy drinking. Nicaragua was a frustrating period of my life (But I remember it as a very nice experience). This summer was sad and my family, my friends, music and childhood are things I highly value.

P.S. The pic is me with a videocamera taped on my head :-)

To hell with „tea for two“, we say „dinner for eleven”!

Sarah and I had an idea in summer: To open our own kitchen club. We talked about this project in a small café-grill in Vienna. I can’t remember the name of the place, but I remember what we ate: Portuguese sardines, grilled sausage, fried mozzarella and grilled Spanish chilli-peppers. I also remember that Sarah had a hangover, hence the sardines.

The idea of “the food conspiracy” (that is the name of our food club) was to cook every 3 months, switching between Vienna and Innsbruck. After many phone calls, we fixed the date and a 7-course menu.

This is how it went:

We opened a Facebook group and published the menu, and then we invited people to join the group and to make a reservation.

The night of our first event, eleven people came to my apartment: 7 guests and 4 friends of us. Most of the people did not know each other; there was a guest I did not know at all and another whom I have only seen twice before.

The guests were welcomed with a glass of prosecco at 19:00. When all eleven guests arrived, they sat at the table, and we started to serve. One hours d’oeuvre, two soups, salad, a hot tapa, main dish, second tapa (an improvised one!) and dessert. We also offered coffee and a very good plum schnapps.

This experiment was great. The people communicated well among themes (we were afraid that this could be difficult since they did not know each other), they were all happy with their meals. Sarah and I received applauses twice ;-)

The food conspiracy gave me a happiness feeling I never experienced before. Working hard to communicate through food (eyes, nose and mouth), receiving feedback, and after the two hours of serving food and washing dishes, Sarah and I sat with them, chatted and, with almost all of them, went to see a great concert: Red Sparrows.

Hereby, I declare 2010 as the coldest year in human history

Cybernetics is, shortly said, the capability of systems to regulate, adapt and steer themselves.

Months ago, a friend of mine wanted to step out of "Los Gurkos" (a cultural association) because of internal problems. Los Gurkos had strong discussions: How to organise events, what was the common goal and they all had very different ways of working. Los Gurkos (as a cultural-event system) managed to find a solution by itself and no members stepped out.

I once read something linked to cybernetics in a cooking-book: Nature produces the food when humans need their nutrients. For example:

- In central Europe, potatoes (carbohydrates) and cabbages (vitamin c) are harvested in autumn and we need both nutrients when the winter starts.

- In Southern Europe and in Chihuahua, citric fruits are ripe in winter: Once more: vitamin c when we need it.

- In summer refreshing fruits and vegetables grow: watermelons, cucumbers, tomatoes, peaches, strawberries, etc.

- Since global warming started years ago, Austria has been producing better red wine; North Germany and Denmark have also started producing white wines.

What I currently don't like, and it brings me back to the topic of "self-regulatory systems", is that right now it is October and I am writing about 2010 as if it was already over. This year there has been snow in Innsbruck ever since January.

I don't know how I should self-regulate my happiness in 2010. Weather plays an important factor if you live in Innsbruck, and June, August and September were the coldest since decades, not to mention that this summer was only 3-weeks long.

Some years ago, I developed a system for forecasting nice or horrible winters (For me, a nice winter is short and a horrible is long). My indicator is very simple: If the first snow falls before my birthday it will be a horrible winter, if it snows after my birthday, the winter will be wonderful.

Today is October 25. I will turn 32 in three weeks and outside is snowing. Hereby, I declare 2010 as the coldest year in human history (I hope we can self-regulate to deal with that).

young, ambitious...and happy OR the sauerkraut incident

Life is sweet
While cooking dinner tonight, Anne and I were talking about the different kinds of crisis we are all exposed between the age of 23 and 35. She told me about a girl she knows from University, this girl is 23 and is incredibly ambitious and has such self-esteem, that she assures never to have suffered a rebound; she has never failed, and will achieve all her goals in life.

My favourite sauerkraut recipe
I love sauerkraut. I am the only Mexican I know who enjoys eating it. My favourite way of eating it is cooking it slowly with whole cumin seeds and juniper berry (the stuff they make gin with – in Spanish it’s “enebro” in German “Wacholderbeere”), then I add some sour cream and eat it with fried dough.

Regional ingredients are important
I buy my groceries mainly at a farmer’s market. By doing it, I can be sure that the vegetables and fruits were harvested ripe and they are season products. Many fruits and vegetables are harvested when still green and they mature while being transported in trucks. The farmer, from whom I buy my food, had fresh sauerkraut among her products, without hesitating, I bought 600 grams.

Life cannot always be sweet
Early today, when I came back from the office, I only had something in mind: Sauerkraut with fried dough. I cooked my sauerkraut slowly, as I always do. I fried the dough and chatted with Anne. When it was ready, I served a huge portion on my plate and sat on the table only to realise the sauerkraut tasted awful. That farmer messed up what could have been the best moment of the day. I was starving, so I ate the sauerkraut anyway, but I added massive amounts of Dijon mustard to make it edible. Right now, I am stuffed and upset. I hope my digestion starts soon so I can eat chocolate and get rid of the taste on my mouth.

Young, ambitious...and happy
I just realised I will never be like that 23-year old girl Anne told me. I will never achieve all goals in my life, surely not as long as a portion of sauerkraut can ruin my day.

we are not alcoholics, we are only in our thirties!

Yesterday I got a call from my very friend Mai. She asked me how was I doing, how was work in the office, about my weekend and when my turn to ask questions came, I heard her new born baby on the background.

Yesterday, her child was only 72 hours old, and the baby sounded so wonderful! I can’t remember hearing a child as young as Mai’s son. When my brother was born I was five and very attached to my mom, so attached that my parents feared I could suffer a jealousy attack. When my mom and my new-born brother came home from the hospital, my father sent me to my cousin’s place to spend the night there. I only saw Tomás on the second or third night he was home.

After hanging up with Mai, I nearly stared to sob. I don’t know why, but I was extremely happy to know that the “strange thing” inside Mai’s body, came out and started living, eating, breathing…This was the first time I heard someone at the beginning of life.

Today was not a cool day, at work my computer wasn’t working properly, so I had to read documents while my PC was being updated (the IT guys did several updated in the course of the afternoon). I came home tired as hell wanting to see an episode of twin peaks, just to discover that I finished the first season and had no episodes left, Hannes has the second season at home; I hope I get more DVDs tomorrow.

Just some minutes ago, my flatmate came home and saw me with a glass of Grüner Veltliner; and the “Groovie”, as they call “Grüner Veltliner” in NY, is, together with Chardonnay, the wine I usually drink when I write my blog.

I have the slight feeling that Anne (I am allowed to use my flatmate’s real name on my blog) thinks I am an alcoholic. This Monday Anne, Verena, Hannes and I dine together. Before starting to eat we had Prosecco, then red wine, and after dinner we had gin sours…we, means all but Anne. When preparing the gins, I felt like clarifying something to Anne, so I told her that we are not alcoholics, we are only on our thirties.

I am having a last sip…before finishing this entry...oh yeah!

14 years in Innsbruck

This week I am celebrating 14 years in Austria. For the statistic freaks: I have lived 45% of my life in Austria. For the fact freaks: I had my first real girlfriend here and I ate tomato for the first time in Innsbruck. And in those 14 years I have had 29 flat mates! Here the list:

1st Flat all people from Chihuahua!
1996: Else (cool), Arturo (cool), Holguer (weird), Jesús (...), Germán (cool)
Summer 1997: Laura (...), Alejandra (ex-girlfriend, no-comment), Billy (my best
friend back then)
Winter 1997: Carla (my cool cousin), Tita (my very cool sister), Emilia (cool),
Kenneth (my best friend for many years), Alejandro (cool) and Daniel (weird, but
very cool!)

2nd Flat (1997-1999):
Christoph and Uschi from Salzburg, and a German girl...I forgot her name, they were
all cool

3rd Flat (1999):
I lived on my own some months and then with my former girlfriend (not cool at all!)

4th Flat (the actual one)
1999: Tomás (my very cool brother) and two weird guys from South-Tyrol...and not cool
2000: Christian (cool, still one of my best friends) and Petra (weird, I am happy I
never saw her since then)
2001: Wolfgang (cool, I still see him every now and then) and Hannes (my very cool
sidekick)
2002-2004: Gimm (cool) and Hannes
2007: Mihow (cool snowboarder), Hannes moved out before Mihow moved in.
2008: Felicia (cool and funny Italian girl!)
2009-2010: Marina (cool, the French touch the flat needed!)
2010: A German girl (cool), I don't know her so well, so I won't publish her name ;-)

By the way, last weekend was great. Kathrin and Luisa came along, followed by Christian, Sonja and their son Jonathan. On Sunday, I went to the mountain with
Conny and Kathrin (both have children as well). Hannes finally came back from Scandinavia, we went for a pizza on Sunday and later for some drinks at a street party, oh yeah!

Actually this week won’t be so bad…

This afternoon, on my way home, Lindsey called me and invited me to the cinema. We saw „Marie and Max“, a lovely stop-motion movie about two lonely people (a young girl and a getting-old man) who maintain a very long letter-relationship between a small town in Australia and New York. The film is both, naïve and dark, funny and melancholic. Kind of the way I’ve been feeling these last days…

When I feel weird, like now, I call ex-girlfriends. After walking Lindsey home, I called Carol, but she was in a hurry (over the years, she’s has mastered the art of being late) and had to hang up after some seconds. Then I took a look to the phone list on my mobile and one of the first names I saw was Alauda. She is a wonderful Spanish girl I met in a bar in Innsbruck many years ago. I can say that she was to me what the synthesiser was for the dance floor in the 70’s. I didn’t hesitate to call her.

My uncontrollable desire for flirting made me ask her if she had a boyfriend, and her answer was the predictable and disappointing “yes”. After chatting for a while, she hung up and instantly I scored her name off my ex-girlfriend’s list. Yes, I have an ex-girlfriends-I-should-call-and-ask-for-a-revival-list.

It’s sad to see the small amount of names left in this virtual list – I say virtual because the list exists only on my head.

Seconds after scratching Alauda’s name, Kathrin phoned me and asked me something about a word she needed to translate (she is a translator) and that was it, the day was saved! I suddenly remembered that Kathrin and Luisa (that curly Tyrolean princess I made the piñata for) are coming this Saturday for lunch.

And tomorrow won’t be bad at all: We are rehearsing for the hip-hop gig. Yes, I sometimes do music and even perform. The concert will be on October 2nd, if you live in Innsbruck that night, the PMK will be the place to be!

Actually this week won’t be so bad…and by the way, I love spending the night writing for the blog, having a drink (in this case prosecco-aperol) and hearing to nice music, right now Blondie’s sound is rocking my speakers!!!

P.S. The pick is Matilda, a girl printed on the box of a delicious Danish chocolate-milk brand.

In October, I kind of get anxious to get nostalgic, but this year everything was way too fast

Today, the weather forecasts exterminated my last hope of a smooth summer ending. Yes, today is the last day of summer according to meteorologist…and also the day my little sister flew back to Mexico, my mother already left Innsbruck yesterday.

This June was the coldest in Austria for over three decades, July was the hottest since the 1960’s, and this august was the worst I’ve experienced (with daily temperatures under 20°C).

This summer’s highlights are few, but great: In July we picked up chanterells, I travelled to Barcelona to meet my and I stayed with old, good friends. Two weeks later, my mom and I picked up my sister at Munich’s airport and drove to Berlin, where we stayed from Saturday to Tuesday with temperatures around 30°C…sweet!

I see autumn as a catharsis. In spring, bodies and hormones explode, during summer I sleep less, I am happier, I meet many people and go at least twice a week to the theatre square and drink wine with Hannes, Isabella, Verena, Lisa…and this year even my mom.

But in autumn everything becomes slower, the days turn shorter and the raindrops are no longer warm.

My mom and my sister just left, Hannes is in Norway and Verena is leaving to Italy with her boyfriend this Saturday.

Next week will be hard. I will come back from work and I won’t dine with 66% of my family and my two sidekicks will be only reachable via SMS.

Normally, around October, I kind of get anxious to get nostalgic, but this year everything was way too fast…I am still not prepared…this fucking summer was way too short :-(

el blog de oscar, the sort of marie claire for men

Bert, a friend of mine, told me that my blog was a sort of “marie claire” for men. That was an interesting remark. I once read in a Nick Hornby book that woman’s magazines have been publishing the same content on each issue for decades: you will always find a diet, tips about fashion, an article on health/beauty and another one about sex.

By taking a look to my blog entries, I can surely recognize many of those themes.

Eating and drinking are essential parts of my blog entries; I simply cannot imagine my blog without recipes or experiences about the best thing on earth: food!

Health and beauty have also been issues in my blog. My anti-ageing body lotion is one example; my problem zones are also well-known by the blog readers.

Fashion is something I do care, but I have never written about it. However, I change my profile picture almost each time I write an entry. Gimm and Lea, two friends, told me years ago that I had a fixation for ugliness. I agree, and many of my profile pics have shown me from my ugliest angle. Take as an example the pale guy on the beach ;-)

The last theme of a woman’s magazine my blog should cover in order to be a woman’s magazine for men is sex. I am afraid I will never reveal funny experiences with the opposite sex (there are only funny things), but I was once close to do so. When I was in Nicaragua, Sarah convinced me not to write about those “not existing activities”. I am glad I didn’t, however, I think that my non-existing sex life is implicit in many of my entries; just recall the “emotional chastity”, a friend of mine loved those two words put together and used them as a message on her skype account.

Thanks for reading el blog de oscar germes, the sort of marie claire for men...even if you are are a she :-)

I wasn't the palest person in Sitges, but surely the whitest man

Long time no blog…I will start with a mushroom experience two weeks ago: Alethia, a girl from Mexico; Verena from Innsbruck, an English guy who was raised in Kenya and myself went to a forest near Innsbruck to gather chantarels, a yellow mushroom which grows through all Europe; well at least I know it grows in Cataluña, Germany, Slovakia and Lithuania.

The four of us got together three kilos of mushrooms (it is allowed to take up to one kilo per person). It was enough to cook for some 10 people, and we did it. We prepared a chantarel stew, in German called Eierschwammerlgulasch. The main ingredients are chantarels, white wine and crème fraîche (Verena used less cream to maintain the mushrooms taste, but I prefer it creamier). We also prepared Knödels (bread dumplings/albondigas). Those are peach-sized balls made out of dried bread cubes, eggs, onions, garlic and loads of fresh parsley.

The dinner was fantastic: we were ten people in my backyard. As starters we had grilled cherry tomatoes with fresh-grated parmesan, green beans with balsamic and chilli and grilled spring onions with lemon juice.

That was on Sunday; on Thursday I flew to Barcelona and stayed there until Tuesday. It was my first time since January 2007, when I was there with Hannes and Verena (after that trip Verena and I broke up). The last days in Barcelona were great; I stayed with my good old friends Sara and Carol and also met David twice. In Barcelona I also met my mom, who is now chilling in Innsbruck for some weeks.

Since my mom was in Barcelona only once in 1970, she wanted to see the city’s tourist spots (those I wanted to avoid). Carol and I came along with her so see Gracia, el Borne, el Raval, el Barri Gotic, we were also in Montjuïc, Parc Güell and the Barceloneta.

On Sunday we spent the afternoon in Sitges, were I swam using my underwear (I forgot my legendary swim trunks in Innsbruck); that day I was proudly the whitest man on the beach, but not the whitest person, there was an unbeatable girl, I think she was English, on her early 20's and was whiter than milk.

the perfect dinner

Mai, the co-worker with whom I share my office since 2007, watches a TV show called perfect dinner. I have never seen it, but she says it's interesting. "Perfect dinner" is a reality show in which a person cooks "the perfect dinner" for other show participants. Mai is a psychologist and finds it fascinating to see how each cooking-host defines the "perfect" banquet; apparently the parameters that define that "perfection" hugely vary from one host to another.

This is my recipe for the perfect dinner:

Invite 2 or three friends; the evening will be more interesting if your guests don't know each other very well. Tell one of them to come at 7:00 pm so he/she helps you cooking, the other guest(s) should come later...let's say at 7:30 pm, since this last guest won't cook, he/she will do the dishes. Tell your friends they will eat on of the best pasta-dishes ever.

You will need simple stuff, so don't go to the supermarket, being home hearing your favourite radio station is nicer than spending 30-40 minutes buying groceries; but be sure to have two bottles of wine a chilled white wine and an oak-aged red (Yesterday we had an organic Cabernet Suavignon, oak aged, vintage 2006). You will need:
- Garlic
- Dried chillies
- Nuts (almonds, sunflower seeds, pecan nuts...walnuts also work)
- Pitted black olives
- Spaghetti
- Olive oil
- Lots of parsley

When your first guest arrives ask to help you cook. You both should fry with lots of olive oil at very low heat one chopped garlic clove for each guest, a teaspoon of dried chillies and two spoons of grounded nuts per guest. Slice 2 or 3 black olives per person Be sure that the oil boils lightly, if the garlic toasts this sauced is useless.

After 5 minutes of frying the ingredients, start preparing the spaghetti (use half a litre of boiling for guest). Start washing lettuce leaves (3-4 per guest), keep the salad simple: use only balsamic, olive oil and fresh basil leaves. Meanwhile, you or your guest should chop lots of parsley (1 tablespoon of chopped parsley per guest).

Turn off the pan where you are frying the garlic and the nuts.

About now, the rest of the guests will arrive. Open the white wine and make a toast. When the pasta is al dente, take it out of the stove; lightly rinse the spaghettis and leaving some of the water in the pot. Put the pasta back in the pot; add olive oil, the parsley and the stuff you have been frying. Mix all ingredients well.

While you do this, someone should look for a space to eat (the dinning room is ok, but try your own room or the kitchen itself), put chairs, forks and glasses for everyone. Serve the pasta on soup plates, shred heavy amounts of fresh parmesan or grana on top of the pasta.

Open the red wine, make a second toast, eat the spaghettis, have some salad. Finish the red, go back to the white (Finishing with the white wine is a good idea, since the meal is rather heavy).

If this dinner takes place during on Friday or Saturday, get your most expensive bottle of schnapps, rum or other distillate. Drink a glass or two with your friends and enjoy being with them!

Salud y buen provecho.

el triste

Today is everything but a perfect day. At work I received two bad news about projects in which I really invested lots of time. Today was also cleaning day in my apartment and the use of cleanser in the restroom triggered my allergy, since then I have been sneezing like hell; in addition to that, I watched an episode of South Park and for the first time, in the 7 seasons I have watched, the episode was very sad, it was so depressing that I almost cried three or four times.

Right now I don’t feel very motivated, the only inspiration I have now it to be even sadder (yes, I am an old-fashioned melancholy-junkie). All evening I have been hearing to sad songs along with a glass of white wine.

If I take a look to the last 14 hours, there was only a really pleasant moment: I hugged a friend of mine; it was the first time in a while. By the way, she’s the girl who will never be my girlfriend. Being next to her was lovely, but as soon as I left, a strange mixture of joy and sadness ran all over me.

I will get another glass of Chardonnay, listen to more dark-romantic music from the 70’s and 80’s and top this depressing ceremony with "el triste" from José José.

The happiest day this summer

It is a fact that in spring and summer people are happier; one of the reasons for this feeling is the sun. When the human body receives more sunlight than usual, the natural production of serotonin is triggered. Serotonin is a neurotransmitter which supports the feeling of well-being and is considered as one of the happiness-hormones. Serotonin is also produced in plants, actually, the happiness that we experience when eating chocolate comes from the serotonin contained in cocoa.

During sunny seasons, the human body also produces sexual hormones.

Near my house, a group of three young guys are renovating parts of an old bakery in order to transform it into a space for cultural exchange. Our festival may be one of the organisations with office in that building.

Hannes (who also lives close to the bakery) and I helped last week in the demolition works. It was a very hot day; it actually reminded me of a Saturday afternoon in Chihuahua. Before going to the construction site, I had half a litre of cacao milk.

At the site, I saw a construction machine and immediately felt in love with it. It was one of the best tools a man can held: A Hilti demolition machine

The combination was incredible:
- I had the strength of happiness (Serotonin from the sunlight and from cacao)
- I had a new best friend along (The Hilti demolition machine)
- but we also had an enemy: Three brick walls.

Last Saturday was amazing and if you don't believe me see these photos

I hope to meet a girl soon, and I hope she never gets to read my blog.

Yesterday, Maria Hannes and I went to have a glass of wine to a terrace café in
Innsbruck's centre. While there, we discussed an important topic for us: Being single in our early thirties.

I won't tell anything about María's and Hannes' lives since it would be mean from my side, but I can tell we laughed about our situation and even made a terrific forecast: In some years, we three would be sitting in the same bar laughing about the time when we thought that being single was miserable. Maria, who has a refined sense of humour even pictured us: We three will be sitting on the same bar, same table, all of us would be in a a happy relationship, but there will be something different: The size of my breast would be even larger than now.

Maria is one of my closest friends and one I can hug, kiss on the cheek and held hands to with no problem. Having her as a guest in Innsbruck is a nice placebo; she is a person I can give affection to, she's a "receptor of friendliness".

Yesterday at the terrace I told my friends I wanted somehow to to start a relationship, it's been two and a half years since I had my last normal, official relationship. Although this summer started late, this July is hot and there are masses of women wearing shorts tops all around town.

Hannes and Maria don't believe me and think I just want a girlfriend until winter
comes, I cannot argue against that, actually I have never been able to plan my life for longer than 2 months...never. However, I hope to meet a girl soon, and I hope she never gets to read my blog.

p.s. I didn't change my profil pic this time, because I really like the actual one

nice memories from my desk

About 8 days ago, Hannes and I painted my room walls, since that day I haven’t bought new book shelves and ever since, my desk is a mess.

Since I have not so much to tell, I will randomly describe some of the objects on my desk:

On Saturday I skyped with Tanja (she is currently in Peru) and I turned on the webcam. Wile talking with her I drew emoticons which I placed in front of the webcam. I draw a happy face, a sleeping face, a sweating face, a sad face and even a face talking on the phone (because Hannes called me while I was skyping).

There is also postcard Verena sent me from India in March; it is a pretty foldable postcard.

On the far left-end there is a bottle of hot-salsa I brought from Chihuahua for Lisa. By the way, Lisa turned 24 last Saturday and she organised a pretty nice barbeque. The weather was wonderful and the evening was great, but there was a big small problem: Mosquitoes.

There is also a big bunch of Polaroid pictures, I can recognise one my brother made of me playing a concert in 2008; Carol and me at the Garda Lake in Verona, Italy in 2009; the film-festival gang from last year and one from January 2009 with Sarah, Lisa, Hannes, my mom, my sister and brother, this is a pretty one.

There is so much stuff in here that I should stop writing about everything on it, there is plenty to say about the Woody (toy story) I got from my sister, the pap maché cat I got from Isabella, the kazoo I bought last week, the kaleidoscope that I for from Kathrin for Christmas three years ago…

P.S. Click on the profile pic to see three emoticons from the skype-session with Tanja

how a piñata can help against a broken heart

Last weekend I started a new happiness project: Making a piñata. I never imagined that making one could spark so beautiful feelings. Until now, happiness for me could be achieved in different way, here a sample of them:

Being home with my family and do nothing
Cooking and eating for/with friends
Hugging a baby
Travelling by car with Hannes
Chatting with somebody and not worrying about time
Eating chocolate
Being trapped by a good book
Kissing the girl I like on the forehead
Having a glass of prosecco on a Friday afternoon
Taking a long hot shower
Hearing good music on the ipod on a train while enjoying the landscape
Going to the cinema (alone or with a good friend)
Playing the drums
Presenting something to an audience (research resukts, a piece of music or a movie)
Playing with a child and making it laugh

I discovered that making a piñata for Luisa (Innsbruck’s cutest girl) is something I really enjoy; although it’s hard work, I have been working on it for 3 days and it’s not yet done! However, this weekend I will meet Luisa and Kathrin (her mom) and Luisa will break her piñata and get all candies, chocolates, peanuts and the heart-shaped confetti and will laugh and smile.

Thinking of it makes me happy, very happy.

P.S. Want to see the photos of this Blog? Click HERE

how mole can help against a broken heart

A couple of months ago I wrote on my blog about "sentimental chastity", a status I
wanted to reach...but, as usual, something went wrong. I meet someone and
without noticing I started liking her. I think it was not only because of the way
she is, but I also love her sense of humour, maturity (something I may never possess), and she is a pretty good dancer.

It is well known that I make public many topics of my personal life through this
blog and by uploading all kinds of fotos on facebook; but this time it makes no
sense to explain the series of events which lead to a "no-chance-with-her"-situation. I will only say that the chances of starting a relationship with her were never big, but now they are simply non-existing, and my
behaviour (wich sometimes resembles the one of a pubert) played an essential role on that.

Ever since I came back to Austria in March I felt the need for a change; this week I am paiting my room, I will change some furniture and starting tomorrow, I will ride my bike to work in order to do some exercise (and finally get rid of the extra fat on my abdomen and boobs). I think that the summ of these small changes in my life will make everything better.

By the way, tomorrow I am cooking along with Isabella; she's coming to learn how to
prepare my 28-ingredient-recipe for mole. Cooking and eating with friends makes me
extremely happy, and tomorrow I will be cooking mole for the first time this year. Want an overview of the ingredients? 5 kinds of seeds/nuts, 4 sorts of dried chillies, 6 different vegetables, brown cane-sugar, cacao and cinammon...mmmh!

World Championship, here I come!

Last week our short film festival took place and it was wonderful! We had lots of activities: a video-workshop at the university, a DJ-Session on one of Innsbruck’s most visited squares (youtube-link), a sold-out film competition at Innsbruck’s quality cinema theatre, a screening with international films, a magnificent concert with Mambo Kurt (LINK), a music-video screening and an acoustic session with Kamil Szlachta.

This weekend will be different: In a couple of hours the Mr Hyde in me will wake up and take over my body and mind. I actually don’t like sports, I never exercise and I never watch sport on T.V.

I can only recognise the faces of 10 football players (including Maradona, Pelé, Beckham and Sánchez)...but in the coming minutes I will turn into a wild football-fan. This dark side started in 1998 and it comes back every 4 years and it only occurs when the Selección Mexicana has a match.

I already got coronas, tortilla chips, avocado, coriander, flour-tortillas and cheese. World Championship, here I come (from my living room)

Am I metro-sexual or am I only afraid of getting old?

I remember that turning 30 was not a big deal. I celebrated with Hannes (Whose birthday is the day after mine) in the cellar where I rehearse. We invited lots of friends and sang karaoke. Queen of the night was Felicia, my former Italian-flatmate who secretly got drunk before the party.

The fact that that day I moved from the age group of the people in their 20’s to the one in their 30’s did not seem to affect me. However, turning 31 was different; I had no close friend in Nicaragua and had no birthday party.

Some weeks ago I went to a store to buy body lotion. After taking a look to the dozens of products, one special bottle gained my attention. The singularity of it laid on two specific words written on its label “Anti-Ageing”. I bought it immediately.

Since I was a child I love reading whatever it’s written on packages. The best thing during the breakfast was to read all sides of the cereal box. Reading the stuff written on a McDonalds’ Happy Meal rocked, and I still enjoy reading menus every time I visit a restaurant - I actually read the entire menu.

The last paragraph is actually the introduction to this: When I got home with my new body-lotion, the first thing I did was to read the lotion’s package. I found the information I was looking for, it read something like this “Beginning with 30, the skin stops producing…”. I am in this age group, meaning my skin surely stopped producing that thing. Buying that anti-ageing cream was surely one of the best decisions I’ve made this month.

Hannes laughed at me by saying my new body-lotion is against cellulite (and this would be extremely gay). I don’t think that the lotion is for fighting cellulite, but in the instructions, it is indicated to use it also in the thighs and on the butt. The remaining question is: am I metro-sexual or am I only afraid of getting old, or are both interrelated?

P.S. I can't remember if I already used this new pic on my profile...

Verena, Hannes and Oscar had dinner together

Last summer my brother Tomás was in Innsbruck for two months. We once attended an event in which an art catalogue was presented; the catalogue’s title was sumotwister, and it was a bout a series of jam sessions in Tirol. I also participated with music, a video and a light installation. That night Lissie (a friend of ours) and her band ALM performed at the venue. The experimental architect group columbosnext was ther as well, one of their members, Ekki, made a phantastic drawing of my brother and me in AutoCad

After the gig, my brother and I talked about our favourite subject: Food. A subtopic was how the ideas and experiences of a cook are communicated to other people using eatable ingredients. Tomás changed by view on eating by introducing the senses into our conversation. He told me something I never paid attention to…

It’s known that we all use eyes, nose and tongue when enjoying our meals, but that night Tomás enhanced this list by telling me that eating food with bare hands also involved the sense of touch. In that moment I remembered the feeling of my fingers while holding a hot and moist burrito, the peeling-like feeling of grabbing a tortilla chip with salt; the greasy and hot feeling of a fried gordita (tortilla filled with mashed potatoes), the wet freshness of ceviche (in lime-juice marinated raw-fish on tortilla chips) and the feeling of having flour particles on your fingertips while enjoying a Mexican torta (fresh white bread sandwich).

In honour to that conversation I prepared cheese-burgers for Verena and Hannes tonight. The recipe was the following: I grilled halloumi (a greek cheese which does not melt) with onion rings and placed them on white rolls toasted with butter. I topped that with top-Austrian Mustard (Lustenau), organic-ketchup, mini-pickles (Staud’s), Italian cherry tomatoes, lettuce leaves and home-made chipotle (I got them in Chihuahua and they are great!).

We drank many glasses of white wine with our delicious burgers.

P.S. Chipotle is a jalapeño pepper, which is harvested ripe (when red), dried, smoked and then pickled with vinegar and onions.

P.S. 2. The profile pic is the one made with AutoCad by Ekki. If you click on the columbosnext-link you can see a big picture, Tomás and I are in that picture, but one can not really see us

a los gurkos short story

For the last three weeks I have been working 12 hours a day: 8 hours in the office (to get money) and 4 hours home (to screen films from other people).

Six years ago, in 2005, Hannes, Stefan and I were guests of a short film festival in which we submitted a film. We had our own table and a bottle of red wine. The screening went on, but they never showed ours. We were so devastated that we decided to start our own festival. 15 days later the first “Los Gurkos Short Film Festival” took place in Prometheus, a bar in Innsbruck. Even though it was Sunday, 40 people came.

In 2006, Patrizia and Anita took over the project and organised a second festival at the University, they named it “Schnitte” (“cuts” in English). In 2007 we hosted the festival in the PMK (a cultural platform) for the first time we had more than 100 guests.

The International Film Festival Innsbruck invited us in 2008 to screen our selection of shorts during their festival…in a cinema theatre!

In 2009 year we broke our record with guests, almost 150, but we had a gigantic problem: There was no sound in the cinema! Hannes went home a picked up cables, then drove to a technician and got a new sound-mixer but nothing helped. We and 130 people had to cross the city and headed to the PMK to see the short films. In July that year we also screen the winner films at a summer-cinema to a total of 2000 people.

The film festival is a small team of hard working people who work without salary for roughly 5 months. Our only goal is to host the only short-film festival in Tirol. We are doing good and I think lots of people like our festival.

The team: Sarah, Anita, Patrizia, Verena, Hannes, Lisa, Theresa and me. Isabella and the other Hannes will join us soon…

this is a narrated photo-album

Tanja told me some weeks ago that I should have chosen another website for my blog since this one is not suitable to show pictures; actually, I never intended to add pics to my blogs, but today I will describe my sister’s wedding day using pictures. You can either read all the text and watch the entire album using this link, or read the pictures’ description on the blog and watch the photograph simultaneously using the links at the end of each description. I hope you enjoy these moments as much as I did.

Hannes is not only my best Austrian friend, but he is also a sort of adopted family member. Since Hannes could’t travel to the wedding, he sent Tita a heavy present (PIC 1).

In the box there was a letter and nearly five kilos of “mignon Schnitte”, which are layers of wafers and hazelnut-crème, covered with milk-chocolate. They are like the pimped version of a Kit Kat, and are also Tita’s favourites (PIC 2).

This is me in my room. The people in Innsbruck, you may recognize the baettle-poster. I am holding the biggest Mojito I’ve ever prepared. I shared this cocktail-pitcher with my mom and my brother; but my mom only had one small glass, because she doesn’t drink alcohol (PIC 3).

This is my little sister just before the make-up session (PIC 4).

The woman doing the make-up told me Tita was a very calmed bride; she neither cried nor shouted! (PIC 5)

Here you can see how the hair dresser converted Tita’s straight hair into nice curls (PIC 6)

If you follow my blog, you will remember that I got pretty emotional buttoning Tita’s dress. I didn’t cry, but almost (PIC 6b)

Here you can see the hair-dresser’s final product. On the mirror the full haircut is reflected (PIC 7)

Tomás and I were men wearing black (PIC 8)

The day before the wedding I saw “Taxi driver” and this photo is strongly influenced by it …Are you talking to me? (PIC 9)

A wonderful image of my little sister an my lovely mom (PIC 10)

I love this picture since it shows how relaxed my sister was one hour before the wedding. It stopped raining and everything went perfectly well. Tita, Víctor and everyone else were glad and calmed, just as Tita in this image (PIC 11).

This is Víctor, Tita’s husband (PIC 12)

Luis Rubén is a common friend of Víctor and me. He was the one who took Víctor to my home for the first time so he could see Tita (PIC 13).

Luis Rubén was also the wedding’s driver; he drove the couple to the Cathedral, just after they stepped down fro the car, my mom fixed the last details (PIC 14).

This is Daniel, the son of my cousin Carlos Scott and Laura, his lovely wife (PIC 15)

If you are in Facebook you may know Alejandro a.k.a. Spiderman from my current profile picture (PIC 17).

The main three people in this picture are my mom, Tita and my father. You can also see Carla, my cousin, holding the bridal bouquet besides her husband Albino, the Spaniard. On the foreground one can see my godmother Martina and her son (my cousin) Mario (PIC 18).

This is Victoria, Daniel’s sister. After Tita, she had the best dress that day. She looked just like a fairy! (PIC 19)

After the church, we went for “elotes”. Elotes are maize kernels on a glass with lime juice, salt, chilli powder, butter and topped with shredded cheese (PIC 20).

I took this picture at the wedding party, when Tita and Víctor danced their first waltz as a married couple (PIC 21).

If you want to see all pictures as a dia-show, use this link. And on my new profil picture you can see my mom and me.

Un abrazo grande,

Oscar

Riot on an empty street

Chihuahua is known since two years as one of the most dangerous places in Mexico and in the world. A gang war in the cities of Juárez and in Chihuahua (both in the State of Chihuahua) is seen as the main reason for this wave of violence, but the real problem is the increasing drug consumption in the United States.

I was born in Chihuahua in November 1978 and during my childhood I was able to play on the streets, run in the parks and even talk to strangers on the street; Chihuahua in the 1980´s was an old-fashioned city, where every morning the milkman delivered milk bottles in front of your door.

Since September 1996 I live abroad and travel to Chihuahua once a year; only in 2008 and 2009 I was twice in my hometown. In 2008, when the gang-war started, I felt unsecure for the first time. I remember that when I was in high school (in the early 1990´s), if I saw an expensive pimped-car I thought it was owned by a gangster, but since last year, whenever I see a pimped car, I get scared and prepare myself for a shooting. But I have been lucky and never experienced a crime in my life, not even when I lived Managua.

At the moment I am in Chihuahua, but have the feeling that I am in Europe: The big avenues (with 6 and 8 lanes) are very quiet, people drive respectfully, respect the speed limit and they never use the horn. Although it is almost May, it is not hot at all, it rains constantly and the temperature is perfect (21 C degrees during the day, 10 C degrees at night). But the weirdest thing of all is that last night it snowed 9 cm in two cities in Chihuahua.

But Chihuahua is not on the old continent and everything has an explanation: The nice weather is probably a result of global warming and the quietness in the streets is because the entire city is afraid of meeting the wrong person. I enjoy being here and everything is quite and nice, but I am also afraid that something may happen, I don´t know what.

Well, greetings to all of you from one of the world´s most violent cities, which appears to me as one of the quietest.

the dance floor

When I arrived in Chihuahua everything was great: the weather was nicer than in Innsbruck (22 degrees instead of 15) and my brother was already there (he lives in Los Cabos, Baja California), another highlight was that my cousin Karla and her funny Spanish husband Albino (that´s only his name and not his pigmentation) were also in Chihuahua.

The wedding day was great despite it rained a little bit during the photo session. But before that, when Tita was still home getting ready, I got sentimental when I helped my sister to put on her bride dress. I hid my feelings pretty well and did not cry while buttoning her back. It was a very simple, but beautiful moment, one of the best I in my life.

The ceremony was short and nice, but I managed to fall asleep for a second or two and the video-guy got me…asshole!

The party after the church was great. I saw so many old friends and relatives! However the best was the dance floor. Tita got one made out of LED squares (see the profile picture), which gave the party a 70´s feeling. My shoes couldn´t resist, so I danced without a break from 11 p.m. until the wedding was over at 1:45 a.m. I simply can’t recall a single day in which I dance for so long in my entire life. The best songs were Vanilla Ice´s classic “ice ice baby” and Pitbull´s “calle ocho”, a song which reminds me of the warm evenings with Tita and Tomás, and later my mom in Managua.

On Monday we went to the airport, my sister and Víctor left to Hawaii for honeymoon and I tried to get my flight back to Munich, but was not allowed to. I am still stuck in Chihuahua until next week. It could have been worst, I could have got stuck on Houston or Newark, but I am happy I can stay some extra days home.

how a pregnancy test almost ruined my evening

It is 1:30 a.m. and it won’t be until 4:10 that the taxi will pick me up to take me to the airport. I am flying to Tita’s wedding in Chihuahua. For me, it is completely weird to know she is marrying. Only a week ago I edited visuals for the wedding and while preparing them, I got very nostalgic and even felt like crying. While editing the visuals, many memories came back since I used only childhood pictures from her and her fiancé. My mom and Victor’s mother sent me wonderful material. The earliest photos were taken in the hospital, right after each one’s birth. There were some pictures of them from the cradle and other showing them learning to walk; however, my favourite is a picture of Tita eating a mango on a beach; by the expression of her face you can tell that at the moment the picture was taken, that mango was for her the most precious thing on the universe.

Talking about mangoes, Verena, one of my best friends, came to visit me today. We haven’t seen each other in more than six months; she was in Burma and India during my time in Nicaragua. I brought Verena a package of dried mangoes I bought from a single-mother’s cooperative in Managua. Right after she left, Isabella, another very important friend of mine, came to bring me a copy of her Master’s Thesis and a picture she draw for my Aunt’s Women's rights NGO in Chihuahua. Isabella researched for her thesis during her residence in Chihuahua 2009, the year she unofficially became a part of the Germes Castro family.

Today I also practiced a pregnancy test on myself; as expected, it turned out to be negative, but I felt very sad to see on that plastic tool that I was not pregnant.

Hannes rescued the evening, he also visited me and we worked for a while on our Short Film Festival, and later, we went to have dinner on a nice mountain cabin with friends: Sarah and Lisa (they are sisters and help us prepare the festival), Marion, another Lisa, and Marcelo, the Argentinean boyfriend of the first Lisa. Marcelo knows serigraphy and he will help us print t-shirts for the festival :-)

For me, the coolest things happening at the moment are my sister’s wedding, the festival and all the friends I am meeting again; those will be surely repeating topics in my next blog entries.

Have a nice evening; I will keep on waiting for my taxi.

"Remolacha" means "red beet" in Spanish from Spain

My life is starting to be normal again. Last Wednesday I performed live for the first time since last September; the day after I co-held a workshop on international process optimisation; on Friday, I went out with Hannes, my sidekick, and had a melted cheese & speck sandwich and many glasses of prosecco. The weekend was not bad, but this week has been hard at the office, currently I have more than enough to do.

Even though I am really enjoying my adaptation back to Innsbruck, there is a thing I truly detest: The return of the winter. This morning the mountains were covered by white layer of snow. It seems like in Innsbruck the spring rang shortly on the door, but decided to go for a walk and come back later. Either this happened, or the winter definitively finds it cosy in Austria and doesn’t want to leave.

If it chilly or sunny, it doesn’t matter, this week is Easter, and for the first time in years I have planed to do something: On Easter-Monday Luisa and her mother Kathrin are coming for lunch. Luisa is only 2 years old and Kathrin is 28 (or 29). This will be the first time I am going to cook for a guest not taller than 1 meter. Last year I cooked for Elin and her son Julian, who is 5. Back then, I prepared two different spaghetti sauces for him: a red one and a white one. Julian surprisingly, wanted white sauce on his pasta, later he had a second plate with red sauce and loads of what he called “Parmesan Ost”, which is Norwegian for cheese (Julian is half Mexican and half Norwegian, but I have nothing to do with that).

Kids love spaghetti, I think because it is funny and easy to eat, but for little miss sunshine (Luisa is probably the most charming girl in Innsbruck) I have no idea what to cook.
I can’t remember what I liked to eat when I was two years old. Cheese maybe. I think I will cook quesadillas with avocado. To add vitamins to that meal I may prepare a simple salad, cucumber or red beet. By the way, Kathrin told me today that Luisa learnt how to say red beet in Spanish. She even asked her mom to call called me in order to say to me on the phone “Remolacha”.

Remolacha means red beet in Spanish from Spain, but in Mexico we say "betabél".

P.S. The girl in the picture is Luisa

being trapped in an elevator is not funny at all

Last weekend was not bad; I slept a lot and visited many bars. On Friday Tanja visited me and we had two different sorts of rum I brought from Nicaragua. First we had white rum (aged 4 years) with lemon juice and mineral water, after drinking two of those, we took the next step: A perfectly mellow-brown, 7 year-aged rum, it was sweet and tasted like caramel, but smelled like honey.

Since Tanja left soon, I called a friend of mine who I knew was going to be out. I went to the bar she was, but after a short while we went to another place. The DJ was a poser, but the music he downloaded from the internet was good. I really hate it when I hear good beats and nice mixing, but suddenly realise that the DJ is just pretending to be a DJ; that happened to me last Friday: The poser had 2 turntables working, but the music was coming out of a CD-player.

I left after 40 or 50 minutes, then went home and made a huge mistake: Facebook. I finally went to bed at 3:30, but was woken up by a text message after only four hours, at 7:45. I read it and slept again, but then I got a phone call at 10 a.m.; I was really willing to sleep until noon, but I wasn’t able to.

Saturday-night was better: I went to the opening of a café & fashion-store until late, but on Sunday I was able to sleep as long as I wanted. After many hours of sleeping wonderful, I got out of bed…at 3 p.m.

Tomorrow after work, I have to buy a couple of things for my sister’s wedding: A nice looking shirt for my brother, Viennese cacao powder for the cake and good prosecco for Tita. Even though I am leaving to Chihuahua in three weeks, I would like to get all the stuff tomorrow, otherwise I can easily forget about it. It wouldn’t be the first time I forget something. Actually, some years ago I was working in a pizzeria; one day I had go to the basement to pick up ice-cream boxes, when I was in an elevator I totally freaked out because it wasn’t moving, I was sure the elevator was stuck, and the worst thing was that nobody knew I was in the basement and I had no mobile phone, then I realised I only forgot to press the floor button.

Post-central-american-depression in the early thirties

NOTE: I hope that the number of blog-readers will not decrease now that I am back in Innsbruck. Starting with this entry my stories will be less exotic with no Tsunami-warnings, Latin-food or children from the village.

This morning the sun was shinny and for the first time since I arrived in Innsbruck, I took my winter jacket off. My greatest fear turned to be wrong: The low temperatures won’t last until next winter.

One of the things that stroke me the most since came back to Innsbruck, was the fact that almost all of my friends are in a relationship (with two exceptions). I can feel the consequences of living alone for the last six months (and the spring coming), yes, during the last months I have been wishing to meet a girl…

The feeling started already in Managua, there were so many beautiful women, but my lack of initiative kept me away from the opposite sex.
Still I managed to share time with three wonderful ladies: Ericka (if you are a blog reader, you know what happened), Maria Julia, a beautiful girl from Estelí, but the age and geographical differences didn’t help (10,000 km separate us…and she was born in 1990) and Maricruz, the girl who went with me to that last trip in Nicaragua. I remember being so happy in the bus to San Juan when she suddenly told me she had a German boyfriend :-(

Let’s see how 2010 develops and let’s hope the spring helps me this time (it didn’t in 2007, 2008 and 2009). By the way, I have a plan B: I could live 2010 in absolutely sentimental chastity.

Managua-Atlanta-Munich-Innsbruck

Exactly a week ago, I finished packaging and went to attend my farewell party; it was short after 6 p.m.

When I got to the meeting point, I saw all children, teens, and the SOS staff (mothers, director, etc.), they all came to wish me a good trip and say goodbye. From that moment on, I experienced the saddest twenty minutes I can remember since Carol left me in 2004.

Two SOS mothers and one aunt took over the microphone and said nice things about me. My heart was nearly broken when Ana followed them on the microphone and beautifully expressed about my presence in the village; I couldn’t help it and burst into tears. It all became even harder when Michael, one of the “tough guys” in the village, sang me a love song and gave me his teddy bear, he is ten years old.

To tell the truth, I never thought that leaving Managua was going to be so hard.

I left the village the following morning at 7, before leaving for the airport, several children came to say goodbye. The flight went well, but in Atlanta I spent 80 minutes queuing at the passport control line and I nearly missed my connection to Munich.

On the airplane, I was lucky and had the chance to see Wes Anderson’s “The incredible Mr. Fox” and Spike Jonze’s “Where the wild things are”. Those two wonderful movies kept my mind busy, and as a consequence, I had almost no time to be melancholic.

The last days in the Managua office, the children from the village, the project’s closing event and the trip back home made me forget I wanted to go back to Austria because I missed food so much! I didn’t realise it until I arrived at Munich’s airport.

Right after picking my 3 pieces of luggage (including USD 150 overweight) I ran to “Oliva’s” at terminal 2 to have a falafel. Think of the tortilla with 3 falafel nuggets, garlic & yogurt sauce, chilli paste, red and white cabbage, lettuce and tomatoes.

After arriving in Innsbruck I went straight to the supermarket to buy half a litre of cocoa milk. This drink is very important for me since it has been my breakfast for the last 23 years. During the last five months I only drank milk during Christmas, when I was in Chihuahua, there, the milk is very good and hormone-free.

I have to admit that even though I am happy of being back in Innsbruck, I miss the village a lot and being away from it is more difficult than I thought. But I know for sure that I will go back to Managua, I have to see how Bianca, Dulce, Juanita, Kathy, Michael, Martin and the rest are doing.

the weirdest weekend ever

On Friday noon I predicted a boring weekend, by 4 p.m. the chances of having fun increased, but they nearly disappeared on Saturday morning. Even though there were many last-minute adjustments, I can say I’ve spent an excellent weekend in Nicaragua, my last one.

It all started on Thursday night. I prepared my backpack with the 4 S’s, which stand for everything I needed for a weekend at the beach: Sunscreen (factor 30), my famous Swimming-trunks (photo), Sandals and my beloved Sunglasses

On Friday noon, my friend Amy told me she couldn't come with me, "typical Latin" I though - we Latinos just can’t decline an invitation, we always accept (even though we cannot come) but cancel afterwards.
After Amy’s cancellation, I thought of traveling on my own once more, but I thought it could de depressing to be alone during my last trip in Nicaragua.So I called Maricruz, a girl I barely knew, and invited her to come with me to San Juán de Sur on Saturday morning, she agreed. My weekend was saved.

Maricruz picked me up on Saturday morning at quarter to 7 (in Nicaragua, 7 a.m. is like 9 a.m. for the rest of the world). As we arrived to the bus station, she got a call: An earthquake stroke Chile and the entire Pacific Ocean was on Tsunami warning. We re-arranged the trip and went  to Ometepe instead, the volcanic Island inside the Nicaragua Lake. We had fun there: we rented a scooter, had fried fish at the beach and swam in a pool of crystal clear volcanic-water (photo).
Our hotel room was simple, very clean and cheap, but the best thing in the hotel was the woman at the reception; she was one of these persons who are very funny, but they don’t know it.

In town there was a street party. The beer was going out for 10 Córdobas (50 US Cent, 35 Euro Cent, 7 Mexican Pesos). While dancing, a girl approached me (for the first time in 5 months!) only to ask if Maricruz was lesbian, because she liked her. That was it...my first and last close encounter with a woman in Nicaragua...

On Sunday morning we went to San Juan (no Tsunami warning). There we swam and hade nice dinner at the bamboo beach; the food was amazing, but the dessert was pure and sweet heaven: small bananas fried with coconut flakes, vanilla ice-cream and papaya-pineapple-orange marmalade. After the banana tempura we took a hell's ride back to Managua. 90 minutes standing. You surely know that is common to read in the news that a crowded bus crashed in Latin America...on Sunday,  I was one in one of those buses. 

I arrived to the Village at around 8 p.m. and was chilling as some kids came running asking for the village director. The kids told me a mattress caught fire inside  house! I got there just as the two security guards (my current heroes) entered and bravely fought the fire. All children were outside, but some wanted to help us inside, I was keeping the children out of the room on fire (The Strokes’ album).
I have never been in a fire before, and I was truly shocked by the harmful power of smoke. A fire is nothing not like in the movies; the heat is not the problem, but the smoke.

We were lucky since the kids alarmed us soon and the guards controlled the fire within minutes. Luckily, no one was injured, it surely helped that all children were still awake when the fire took place...

This was my last weekend in Managua.

P.S.: If you want to see all eight  pics I made during the weekend click here

Nicaragua's dark side OR the housewife with the university degree

During the last days I've been truly busy: I finished the analysis of the research I’ve been doing since I came to Nicaragua; I started the validation of those results (which means verifying if the people I interviewed agree with my conclusions) and I’ve been organising an event for 100 people which will take place next Thursday, exactly 20 hours before my flight departs.

But all this situations are peanuts compared to what I experienced this week, it was this year’s biggest disappointment: the wonderful picture I had of Nicaragua quickly vanished.
It all started at a Karaoke-bar in Estelí. It was the perfect night, I sang a norteña love-song (a norteña is a folksong from Mexico’s northwest and it's played in ¾, like a fast waltz; the common instruments are a guitar, an accordion and a bass, but if you get lucky you will also hear drums and a tuba).

Just after singing my first song, a guy in our group showed me his wife and told me how lucky he was to have such a good and beautiful woman as life-companion (the Latin-American concept of beauty often means to have pale skin and blond or blond-dyed hair). I agreed with him just to be nice, but I personally don’t think his wife is attractive at all.

The things got worst when he asked me if Austrian girls cooked well. I immediately knew where his conversation was heading to, and answered by telling him that in central Europe many educated couples (with higher education) had a simple, but useful housekeeping deal: the first to get home was the one cooking. This guy (who have just turned into a macho-beast to my eyes)laughed out loud at my comment and told me “Oscar, that shit doesn’t work down here, Nicaraguan women always cook, it doesn’t matter if they went to university or not, they all cook for their men and only party with their husbands. If their men don't want to go out with them during the weekend, they simply stay home...alone”.

He even tried to impress me by telling that sometimes he is physically harsh to his wife, but he made it clear that he “doesn’t punch her in the face”. He also told me Nicaraguan women liked oppression and he even tried to convince me that by being cruel with them, women could fell in love with you.

This was the worst conversation of my entire life. He later offered me to keep on partying at his place, but with his mistresses.

I quickly finished our conversation by asking him if he would like his own daughter to be hit by her husband; this stupid macho was of course not prepared to think about such a situation. I left immediately and sang my second song the Spanish hit “Colgando en tus manos”.

The following day I met a beautiful 19 year old girl who studies business administration but stays home during the weekends because her father doesn’t allow her to go out late (or even having a boyfriend). He says she has to finish University first. If this is not awkward enough, she irons his father’s clothes for the week every Sunday.

By thinking about this weird situation, I came to my own conclusions: her father wants a well prepared and responsible daughter, but what he may not know is that he’s making a housewife out of his daughter, but a housewife with a university degree on business administration.

P.S. These were only two isolated experiences I've had in Nicaragua and I truly hope this situations are not common among husband/wife fathers/daughters, but if it is, I sincerely hope this changes soon...

Revolutionary song

It’s midnight and I just came back home. I went out for a drink with José Lorenzo, he is the former director of the SOS Village in Managua and since 2002 he works at the national office of SOS Nicaragua as the coordinator for all issues regarding education and care of children in all the Nicaraguan villages. We work in the same office.

Tonight we first went to the “Maria Bonita”, a restaurant which resembles a Mexican Patio. We sat outside and enjoyed the incredible weather in Managua; at the moment it reminds me of a September night in Chihuahua, but it also feels like a May afternoon in Barcelona or Vienna, or a warm evening in August in Innsbruck. To be more precise: 24°C, which is for me, the best weather that one can experience after sunset.
After drinking a Michelada and having loads of nachos with pico de gallo (fresh tomatoes, onions and jalapeños with lime juice and coriander), we headed up to “El Güegüense” (Yes, we have umlauts in Spanish!).
At the Güegüene (pronounced wue wuense) we had two grilled sweet corn and banana chips topped with beans and fried cheese. By the way, the corn tasted like lamb, surely because it was grilled along with lamb-chops. This situation led me to the following question: Is grilled corn still vegan if it tastes like lamb? If yes, this is good news for veggies or vegans who miss meat. For those of you who have finally realised that tofu sucks, have lamb-flavoured corn!

While we ate, there was band playing Nicaraguan folk music, by hearing to it, I realised how strong the link is between Nicaraguan songwriter music from the 70’s and Mexican popular songs from the 1920’s. Nicaragua has experienced one of the longest and bloodiest dictatorships in Latin-America, and after the dictator fled to Miami in 1979, Mr. Ronald Reagan financed a civil war which lasted until the end of the 80’s.
Listening to the music tonight recalled me of an important part of Mexican Folk-music. Nicaraguans sing with their hearts to their nation, revolution and the rifles they carried on in the 70’s. We Mexicans sing also revolution-songs, but they differentiate from the Nicaraguan ones because they are not always focused on the battlefield.

In Nicaragua and Mexico songs written during war times are very popular and people sing them when happy, drunk of sad. However, I have the feeling that Nicaraguans are more loyal and maintain their political ideology in the songs; on the other hand, we Mexicans love to sing revolutionary songs, but some of these songs are about a lost love (La Adelita) or about a women smoking a joint to stay strong when loading rifles (La Cucaracha).

If you want to experience a genuine Mexican revolutionary song hear “El son de la negra”, this song embraces the revolutionary ideals perfectly. It includes a passive start which slowly accelerates and evolves into the search of a better future for all mankind. “El son de la negra” is a song entirely based on a locomotive - industrialisation, hope, wealth. Everything from its rhythm to its structure and melody clearly sounds like a train. Got curious? Search it in youtube!

The final countdown

Towards the end of the 80’s, a Chinese restaurant called Yang Tse caused furore in Chihuahua; the reason for this “uproar” was a simple architectural idea: A small pool was built around the restaurant, a pool in which Koi fish lived (Koi are the typical orange fish we know from Chinese or Japanese films or restaurants).
Even though I was only 7 or 8 when the Yang Tse opened, I clearly remember ordering my food as quick as I could just to run outside the restaurant and see the fish with Carla, my cousin and childhood sidekick.
In that restaurant my sister always had Cantonese chicken wings (fried with ginger and soy sauce) which she loved dipping in a red sweet-sour sauce.

The Yang Tse, as many Chihuahuan Restaurants in the 80’s and 90’s, offered live music on Sundays, this meant a pianist playing cover songs from 1 until 4 p.m.
One Sunday, the whole Castro family (the maternal fraction of my extended family) went there to have lunch, and while eating, my granny (mamá Bertha) asked me to deliver a message to the pianist: He should play “Ballade pour Adeline”, this is the oldest memory I have from that song.

I love picturing these moments; situations in which the best elements in one's life are included: People I love, places which no longer exist and food. Yes, I adore nostalgia, maybe that’s one of the reasons I no longer live in Mexico, to love it and recall it as an old, romantic memory.

In the Teatro Nacional Rubén Darío, I saw the man who sold 22 million copies of "Adeline"; the concert was amazing, although I have to admit that at the beginning I was slightly disappointed when I saw Mr Clayderman on stage playing a black piano wearing black trousers and a blue blazer; however, my frustration vanished instantaneously when I hear the magnificent playback coming out of the speakers. Imagine my situation: I was sitting with my mom in one of Latin America’s best theatres (the acoustic elements are German/Austrian). We were on the 12th row, the curtains opened as esoteric tones were played, synthesizers, wind instruments and harps. Then, the best came: a deep male English voice announced that Richard Clayderman was going to play variations of Titanic. The entire theatre was on seventh heaven.

Through the entire concert there were several incredible moments, all of them unforgettable: He performed a disco version of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony (only comparable to the one featured in Family Guy, know that one?), he also played a medley of “Don’t cry for me Argentina”, “Love story” and “Chariots of fire”. If we exclude the best piece of that evening “Ballade pour Adeline”, the evening’s crown was Ricky Martin’s “Living la vida loca”.

People, believe Wikipedia! Richard Clayderman IS the most important pop pianist alive. The Rolling Stones did creative and good stuff, but 50 years ago, however they are still important, they are a “living” legend and they have influenced more than one generation with their music; Richard Clayderman did a similar thing with the perfect blend of pop-music-covers and kitsch arrangements all this on a grand piano. Richard Clayderman rocks.

My mom’s visit lasted only a week, and it went by very fast, I wish she could have stayed longer, but I’m pleased she came; it was great having her and Helena as guests. I am already looking forward to see the entire family in eight weeks, at Tita’s wedding in April.

About my work? Yesterday I had one of my last project presentations, I was well prepared and the presentation was good received. From now on, the countdown to leave Nicaragua has started, in less than four weeks I will be back in Innsbruck.

P.S. I will upload videos and pics from the concert this summer!

a summary of my two lifes

Currently, my life in Managua consists of mainly two things: Interviewing people and cooking with the children from the SOS village. The first one is the reason I came to Managua; the second is an activity I choose because of a number reasons: I love cooking; I love kids; and the most important one: I want to be part of the SOS Village. I prefer to be called by my name rather than being the Mexican guy who lives at the guest house.
One of the best things I’ve experienced at the village is when a child or an SOS aunt or walks by and say ¡Hola!

On weekdays after work I often play and cook with the children and each night, Felicia, the village director, and I talk for hours about the funny, the weird and the difficult things from each other's work.

In Managua I spend my time either at the office, chatting with Felicia or playing/cooking with children; while in Innsbruck I live a completely different life: After work I go home, cook and dine with Marina (my flatmate) and one or two of our usual dinner guests (Hannes, Verena or Isabella). At night I work a while on the los gurkos activities, which is mainly organizing electro-pop gigs and a yearly short-film festival. I also attend several concerts, about 2 or 3 a week; actually, I don’t care much about the music style as long as it’s good, but I have to say that I can’t stand salsa and funky jazz, not to mention music involving the most hippie instrument of all time: didgeridoo.

In Innsbruck I am more involved in cultural activities and have a considerable social network, but in Managua I live a more quiet life, which I truly enjoy. I love the evenings on the porch, the nights zapping on cable-TV (I don’t have a TV in Innsbruck) and the fact that I have ninety cheeky and funny neighbours.

My calm lifestyle will change within the next 24 hours: My mom is coming along with two friends and will stay for a week. It may sound awkward, but I really enjoy being with her; it is surely different as when I’m with Tita and Tomás, but it’s still cool. The best part of her visit will be Richard Clayderman’s concert this Saturday. I can’t wait to see his half-long blond hair waiving besides the red roses over his piano...

…I just received a phone call from a not-identified number and they hang up before saying anything. I hope that was no warning call from the jealous boyfriend. Today I saw Ericka, she was in the village and I said “hello” to her, maybe this triggered the macho-beast inside his fiancee…or are they already married?

P.S. Noticed the new pic? That's me with my best friend under 5, Martin and two other guys from the village in Estelí

This weekend may be crap, but next Saturday will be memorable

It's Friday night. My second michelada is almost gone (Michelada is beer served on ice with lime juice and salt) and I am thinking of having fun next weekend. Do you think this sounds strange? I think it’s pretty sad; Tomorrow, I will wake up at 8 and leave for Ometepe, where I will meet a group of children I am supposed to interview on Sunday, right after that I will travel back to Managua. Sound amazing isn’t it? This weekend will be so short and shitty, that even writing these lines with sarcasm is not helping…

Ometepe is the volcano island in the middle of the Nicaragua Lake. It is in fact a beautiful spot, but going there to spend the weekend in front of a microphone and a questionnaire takes away all the charm. Yes, Saturday and Sunday will be the golden crown of a terrible week: I had 16 interviews and it was hell to conduct them; I transcribed several interviews into text documents; and finally, I prepared and chaired a meeting with my project’s consultative group (representatives of SOS, Universities and other NGOs).
This week was really hard and I didn’t get as much sleep as I wanted, each day I woke up willing to stay longer in bed, but…duty was calling

I just finished my michelada and with it, the remaining drops of fun just vanished.

The next chance to enjoy the company of another human being will be next Friday, when my mother and Helena, one of her best friends, land at Managua’s airport. My mom is visiting me, and that’s great! But that’s not all, on Saturday we are going to see Richard Clayderman live. Can you believe it? The world’s most known pianist is performing at Nicaragua’s National Theatre, and we will be attending this glorious event.

Sincerely, I don’t like Richard Clayderman at all, but how often can one get the chance to hear “Ballade pour Adeline” (the most kitsch ballad of all times) performed live on a grand piano? Just to think of Monsieur Clayderman on a glitter suit playing on his white piano takes me into an almost spiritual voyage. Oh yeah!

This weekend may be crap, but Mr. Clayderman’s concert will be memorable

A backbone-massage, the fish-recipe and Tomás' two-day journey back to Mexico.

The last days with my brother in Managua were very relaxing. I was very tired of my holidays; when still in Chihuahua, I had no time to rest. I was, either visiting family and friends, going to Christmas parties, or cooking. From our first day in Nicaragua on, we were always busy driving through the country, walking around or on boat trips.

The day my sister flew back home, was also the day I returned to the office, January 4th. Tomás stayed four more days with me. Since he already knew Managua (he was here with Allison, his girlfriend, in summer 2008), we had no longer interest in sightseeing. We just enjoyed the evenings doing little; we even went to a shopping centre merely to get a massage. The two masseurs (male and female) give a 10 minute backbone massage and charge only 3 Euros! We went twice there, the second time we switched masseur only to conclude that the guy had better hands. This long-haired masseur has big, firm hands, but knows when to apply less pressure and loosen his hands – I know this may sound gay…massage

Another evening, we had ceviche at a small place opposite from the SOS Village (it was actually a garage which went through a rough adaptation), these guys serve an amazing ceviche! It was a pity that Tita was not with us; she, as a member of our family, is a connoisseur in ceviche matters.

New year 2008 fish story: Two years ago, we picked up Playa del Carmen (Mexican Caribbean) as our New Year’s vacation spot; during our stay, we tried different ceviches each day, ten days in a row! The best prepared was in Tulúm, on a palm-roofed cabin right on the highway.
New year 2009 fish story: Last New Year's Eve we were in Brussels, and also had raw seafood for dinner: Oysters and scallops with lemon juice and salt...mmmh!

If you don’t know ceviche, I describe it as a hybrid between Gazpacho and Sashimi. It consist of raw fish (white flesh), cut in small cubes and marinated in lime juice until the flesh acquires a cooked-similar texture (and the fishy-smell disappears), then chopped fresh tomato, red onion, cucumber, celery, coriander are added, Voilá!

Tomás left on a Friday, bad timing! I wanted to take advantage of his presence to party in Managua. Actually, going out in Managua is really an issue for me, I have been here for almost 4 months and went out only two times. Once to see that Afro-Caribbean concert (I hate rastas), and last week; I went to a salsa-bar (I hate salsa) with people from the Village: two youngster and their youth leader, this is the one I cannot call any longer, the one marrying my potential murderer in 10 days.

As I was saying, my brother flew to Mexico on a Friday, but arrived home on Sunday. This situation started getting complicated when the night before flying, he noticed that his ticket was to San Jose, in the American California, and not to the San José in the Mexican California. The next morning we bought a new ticket from San Jose (US) to San José (Mex), but he missed his connecting flight in Houston. To make a long story shot here is the list of airports he visited on his odyssey back home:

1. Managua
2. Houston
3. San Francisco
4. San Jose, United Stated
5. Los Angeles
6. San José, Mexico

The guy in the new pic is Austrofred, the Viennese version of Freddy Mercury

If I get killed, it was the jealous boyfriend

Perhaps you have noticed that some of my entries do not correspond to the situation and events immediately happening before writing my blog. For example: my airport blog-entry was written in Mexico City and in Chihuahua within a span of 36 hours; the stories on our Nicaraguan trip were written two weeks after Tita and Tomás left; and right now, I have decided to once more break the chronological storytelling order and write about today’s events (Jan 22nd) and not about Tomás’ last days in Managua, as I have promised on my last blog.

Sip of sauvignon blanc…

Today I conducted my last interview in Estelí; do you remember? I am in Nicaragua to interview over hundred people. After this interview I immediately fled to Managua. I wanted to go to the sushi bar I always go to, but when I was at the restaurant centre I decided to try something different and went to a “Mediterranean & fusion restaurant” (fine recipes, but awful cook). After ordering my meal, I realised that I have left my mobile phone on the taxi. Do you know what it is to forget your mobile in a Taxi in a country outside central Europe? Last May I forgot a Laptop in a Taxi in Hannover and got it shipped back to Austria although I was in Mexico, but I was sure this was not to happen in Central America…I was a little bit calmed when I called my own number and the taxi driver, in fact he answered, he drove back and gave me back my mobile phone. I no loner have a no doubt about it, I am a luck bastard…

On my way back to the SOS Village, my only Nicaraguan friend called me; her name is Ericka, you may have spotted her on my Facebook pics from Nicaragua: she’s very small (up to my waist according to Fritz)…and has an incredibly jealous boyfriend, the bad thing about it…he hates me. He detests me so much that today he suddenly asked Ericka to marry him (in two weeks), the main reason? Only to be her husband before I leave Nicaragua! The sad thing about it is that she asked me today to call her a maximum of one time every four weeks! Apparently, once a month is not too much for her boyfriend.

…two sips of white wine…Now, I am no longer allowed to call my friend until February 22nd; this was my first close encounter to Latin machismo since I experienced a very weird situation back home with my sister and her ex-boyfriend four years ago…

I will not further write about Ericka’s boyfriend. You know, I am actually a little bit scared about this guy, he could easily track down this blog…I am not kidding! He already tracked Ericka’s incoming calls to see how often I was calling her…yes he is a real psycho, no doubt about it!
People, if I am killed within the next hours, please tell the police that I was most probably murdered by the Ericka Saldana’s jealous boyfriend. If the police asks for details or distinctive signs, please tell them he is (probably) not well equipped ;-)

The funny danger

After spending the night in Managua we left for León, a colonial city north from Managua. Our hotel was a majestic colonial building with huge white walls; our room walls were actually 4 meters high. On the first day we visited the “hervideros of San Jacinto”, hervideros can be translated to “the boiling spots”. Once I read on the web that this place was like (I quote) “…Yellowstone without the security fences”, well, I have never been in Yellowstone, but I think it is like the hervideros without the amusing risk of melting your feet!

The hervideros is small area (smaller that a soccer field) near a volcano, and it is full of holes in the ground, in these earth-cracks there is bubbling clay and loads of steam comes out of them. I made no photos in San Jacinto, but I shoot some videos with my mobile; only in video one can see the “funny danger” I mean. It was funny how our young guides (local children) took the warning sings away, in order for us to pass and take a look to the risky areas of the place.

Back in our hotel, we went swimming and had something to drink, Tita was not in the mood for a drink, but Tomás and I were; he had a Gin and Tonic and I went for a Macuá, Nicaragua’s national drink, it is made with fresh Guava and Lime juice and white rum. I didn’t know Macuá until Kamil a.k.a Bert (one of the two registered followers of this blog) told me about it while chatting back in November.

The day after, Benito Rivas and his lovely wife took us to the beach, Benito is the national director of SOS Children’s Villages Nicaragua and he is from León. After a quick walk along the beach (the heat was unbearable), Benito took us to a very nice beach-restaurant. Benito asked for a grilled fish (he chose it at the kitchen), his wife ate breaded prawns - they had a wonderful appearance, Tita ordered shrimp ceviche (prawns marinated in lime juice, tomatoes, onions and coriander), Tomás had breaded fish loins, and since I was hungry as hell, had fish ceviche and lobster (5 small tails for 8 dollars, that’s less than 6 Euros!).

After this feast on the beach, we drove back to Managua; Tita started packaging her stuff, then we talked until late at night. It was sad to know this was Tita’s last night in Managua.

The next day, The Children’s Village driver, Don Isidro, drove use, the three Germes, to the airport. Tita checked her luggage, bought cigarillos from Estelí as a souvenir and we embraced her good bye. I am happy to know that I am seeing her in only three months. She is marrying Víctor, her fiancé, on April 17th in Chihuahua.

Sometime during this week I will write about the following days in Managua with Tomás, and after that, this blog will get its peculiar irony hint back. If any of this blog’s readers miss the masochism in my entries, I promise you good stuff in the coming days, well, as long as until then nothing changes in my non-existing social, love and creative life.

Time to stop writing and change the radio station: They are playing Venga Boys…

P.S. I will upload the videos (Youtube) of San Jacinto when I am back in Austria

The Germes’ road trip in Nicaragua

Tita, Tomás and I initially visited the bay town of San Juan del Sur, a small town in the pacific coast. We had dinner at a nice beach restaurant, the place was so chic that it had mini-pool located aside our table, its water seemed so tempting with the pool’s blue mosaics that Tomás and I nearly walked back to our hotel room to get our swimming trunks. We shared Wahoo Carpaccio, my sister had grilled calamari kebabs served on salad, Tomás ordered fish and chips (for the best outside Camden!) and I tried the yellow-fin tuna (very rare cooked) covered with black sesame and wasabi.


After supporting our digestive systems by walking along San Juan’s bay, we went to our hotel and tried to sleep, that wasn’t easy at all since our hotel was located in the middle of the night-life district; the clubs played their music very loud, but we were lucky: there was a general electric blackout short after midnight, so finito, the music beats were gone.


We spend the following two days in Ometepe, an island formed by two volcanoes in the middle of the Nicaragua Lake (one of the largest in the world). We stayed at an eco-lodge on the slopes of the Madera’s volcano, during breakfast we enjoyed the restaurant’s magnificent view: Concepción, the island’s highest volcano. At night we could even hear howling monkeys from our cabin.


On December 31st we moved on to Granada, we stayed at a charming boutique hotel, there Tita and I had a cold beer with lime and salt (Since there is no prosecco or good white wine available in Nicaragua, I am drinking beer until I fly back to Austria), after that, we headed to the pier and took a boat-ride at the Nicaragua Lake. We visited a few of the tiny islands formed by an eruption of the neighbouring Mombacho volcano.


New Year was nice, warm and full of fireworks. As far as I’ve seen, Nicaraguan men love loud crackers, those noisy fireworks start at the size of a beer can and some were as big as a 1,5 litre PET bottle (and loud as hell!), nearly all of them triggered car alarms when exploding. Nearly all “beautiful” fireworks (the ones exploding in several colours) were either lit by tourists or women.
I think I am conservative when it gets to fireworks, I prefer the spark and bright ones, rather than those blasting ones, nearly provoking tinnitus; these are treasured by Nicaraguan men.


On the first day of 2010 we hired a private car, a beautiful Russian Lada 1200, to drive us to the Masaya volcano, an active one. Being on top of the volcano made me a little dizzy, it was surely caused by the strong sunrays and the intense smell of sulphur coming out of the crater.


We arrived in Managua at night, the Sushi bar was closed, so we had only pizza and salad instead. My sister’s last weekend before flying back home had started…

Here are some pics of the road trip.