The Vilisar Times

RETURN OF THE TIRE HOUSE GANG; RESTLESS NIGHT; TORRENTIAL RAIN STOP WORK ON DOZER; DUTCH TAKES SICK
Sunday, 09 October 2005

Return of the Planet Earth House Gang

Along about late afternoon we hear Bob’s white pickup truck grinding away, still out of sight on the other side of the river. Soon it appears, the open back filled with people. He fords the river and passes the stranded car from Rancho el Pescado on this side. (The three guys that we pulled out of the river two days ago show up on horseback yesterday to load up the huge sacks of beans and corn flour and other food for their ranch. For the moment at least, they are leaving the car locked up tight; that should guarantee mould and mildew build-up inside the vehicle. Later Bob told me that he has more or less given up on pulling Pescado cars out of the drink. Last year he did it at least six times. The Pescado people are anyway not wonderful neighbours: they don’t contribute to keeping the road up as they are legally obliged to do; they borrow things and don’t bring them back; etc. Our ranchero is a little tired of it all.)

Eventually the pickup truck pulls into the corral area with much waving and babbling. The little boys, Eli (6 and next week to be 7) and Levi (4), are full of excitement; T (for Tanner, 10) is quieter but apparently glad to be back; Dutch has a million things to tell us about the camp over near Creel where they have just spent nearly a week building a house made of used car tires with the pupils of an American Christian school and the Tarahumara Indians. The camp was 500 metres higher and much colder at night than here; the river water gave everyone diarrhoea; the food was monotonous; Dutch thinks this morning that he is coming down with a virus brought to the site by the Christian students.

With so many people showing up at the last moment, evening-meal planning goes out the window. There is already a pot of beans on the stove. However, Fortunately, Bob has brought some fresh provisions with him (most importantly onions and potatoes; can you imagine cooking on a daily basis without onions?), and we go to work to make a frittata, which though it doesn’t hit the table until well after dark (now occurring before 1900 hours) is consumed with great relish. As the meal finishes, the Wiggins Family file out and down to their house on the river meadow, the rest of us sing cowboy songs with the kids for a while in the living room before Bob begins to round up the little boys for bed and the ranchhouse quiets down for the night.

A domestic debate then ensues between father and daughter about whether the Chihuahua dogs are to be inside or outside for the night. Unfortunately, I probably provoked this discussion since I announced that I was going on strike as far as cleaning up dog mess in the mornings inside the house is concerned. The dogs are put outside over T’s vehement protests. (This morning Dutch is dragging out the dogs’ travelling cage as a future night-time home for the Chihuahuas; he is also treating all the household animals, dogs and cats, for fleas.)

Restless night

For some reason all the animals are restless in the night. Even the Wiggins report that their Guinea pig keeps everyone awake in the night. How many times do I get up when the dogs all start barking and howling, joined by the Chihuahuas now too. They specifically seem to have taken up barking stations right outside our screen door? Is there a wild animal near the ranch; or are horses and mules coming up from the river meadows? Getting up to check, I see nothing in the pitch dark of a cloudy night. Between periods of barking and howling, the Chihuahuas scratch and whimper at our cabin door, keeping us awake. I hurl epithets at them from under the blanket only because I am too lazy to get up and hurl anything else. Sometime during the night there is a downpour; it must have occurred between barkings because we don’t hear it; this morning the ground is heavily soaked.

I am up and in the kitchen by 0630 to set the water boiling for breakfast coffee and tea and to get the beans heated up. Bob has decreed that the daily menu is henceforth to be mashed beans, one egg apiece, a tortilla and a coffee or tea. Bob and Cindy say that this is standard Mexican ranch fare and we should all get used to it. I’m all for authenticity but I suspect this might get old soon. Oh well, I guess with enough salsa anything can taste all right. I shall have to try some experimental things with beans.

We are having some complications in our meal planning. The Wiggins Family are used to eating a lot of meat but, following a Biblical injunction, do not eat either pork or any pork by-products (including lard, sausage, etc.). For health reasons they also do not eat any sugar, using honey for sweetening instead. Their dietary rules exclude sausage, bacon, a lot of tinned fruit, vegetables, sauces, etc. They carefully scan the labels for taboo contents. We have bacon and pork sausage but Kathleen and I have not wanted to cook two separate menus each day so we have been living on what is essentially a vegetarian diet. That’s fine. In fact, although we would like to have more meat, that’s the way we live on the boat since we cannot keep meat without refrigeration. But now Bob has returned with some pork roast, which we would all like to eat but the Wiggins Family will not touch. This is as much fairness and diplomatic issues as it a culinary problem. What to do?

Torrential rain stops work on dozer

Today reminds me of rainy and cool weather in the Austrian Alps. The kind of weather where, after three days of sitting on the edge of your bed in the Pension waiting for grey skies to clear, after three days of reading John Grisham novels, you are either going to go crazy or pack your bags and head for home. In between drizzle and distant thunder, we have had torrential downpours lasting for thirty minutes or more.

Bob, the Ranchero, Bill and Joe were all ready to undertake the final chapter of the dozer saga. Bill and Joe actually drove out there to at least have a look. But the rains, they said when the returned, had turned the hillside into a waterfall and the filled the arroyo streambed with rushing dirty water. The earth under the dozer was even more unstable than ever. The project has been postponed again.

Dutch takes sick

Dutch has really caught something while he was away. While the adults sit around this morning with wilderness medical books, Dutch sits slumped, wan and pale, on the sofa. Not only was the water at the planet-earth house this past week not good and gave him severe diarrhoea but this morning he is running a fever as well. The students at the project were also carrying viruses and maybe he has come down with that. Various treatments are discussed and discarded. In the end Dutch goes to bed after taking some homeopathic stuff. This afternoon he doesn’t look much better but he is getting bored lying in his bunk and is up and walking around.

posted by rjb,
12:44 pm

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		News From Ron and Kathy Bird__
For more pictures of Ron and Kathy Bird and the Vilisar, see these beautiful photos by Albert Pang Click here to e-mail Ron Click here to e-mail Kathy Archives January 2004 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 February 2007 March 2007 Vilisar Translation Expert German-English translation available; business and finance our specialty. SachverstÃ¤ndige Deutsch-Englische Ãbersetzung; GeschÃ¤ft und Finanz unser Spezialgebiet.	Monday, October 10, 2005 RETURN OF THE TIRE HOUSE GANG; RESTLESS NIGHT; TORRENTIAL RAIN STOP WORK ON DOZER; DUTCH TAKES SICK Sunday, 09 October 2005 Return of the Planet Earth House Gang Along about late afternoon we hear Bob’s white pickup truck grinding away, still out of sight on the other side of the river. Soon it appears, the open back filled with people. He fords the river and passes the stranded car from Rancho el Pescado on this side. (The three guys that we pulled out of the river two days ago show up on horseback yesterday to load up the huge sacks of beans and corn flour and other food for their ranch. For the moment at least, they are leaving the car locked up tight; that should guarantee mould and mildew build-up inside the vehicle. Later Bob told me that he has more or less given up on pulling Pescado cars out of the drink. Last year he did it at least six times. The Pescado people are anyway not wonderful neighbours: they don’t contribute to keeping the road up as they are legally obliged to do; they borrow things and don’t bring them back; etc. Our ranchero is a little tired of it all.) Eventually the pickup truck pulls into the corral area with much waving and babbling. The little boys, Eli (6 and next week to be 7) and Levi (4), are full of excitement; T (for Tanner, 10) is quieter but apparently glad to be back; Dutch has a million things to tell us about the camp over near Creel where they have just spent nearly a week building a house made of used car tires with the pupils of an American Christian school and the Tarahumara Indians. The camp was 500 metres higher and much colder at night than here; the river water gave everyone diarrhoea; the food was monotonous; Dutch thinks this morning that he is coming down with a virus brought to the site by the Christian students. With so many people showing up at the last moment, evening-meal planning goes out the window. There is already a pot of beans on the stove. However, Fortunately, Bob has brought some fresh provisions with him (most importantly onions and potatoes; can you imagine cooking on a daily basis without onions?), and we go to work to make a frittata, which though it doesn’t hit the table until well after dark (now occurring before 1900 hours) is consumed with great relish. As the meal finishes, the Wiggins Family file out and down to their house on the river meadow, the rest of us sing cowboy songs with the kids for a while in the living room before Bob begins to round up the little boys for bed and the ranchhouse quiets down for the night. A domestic debate then ensues between father and daughter about whether the Chihuahua dogs are to be inside or outside for the night. Unfortunately, I probably provoked this discussion since I announced that I was going on strike as far as cleaning up dog mess in the mornings inside the house is concerned. The dogs are put outside over T’s vehement protests. (This morning Dutch is dragging out the dogs’ travelling cage as a future night-time home for the Chihuahuas; he is also treating all the household animals, dogs and cats, for fleas.) Restless night For some reason all the animals are restless in the night. Even the Wiggins report that their Guinea pig keeps everyone awake in the night. How many times do I get up when the dogs all start barking and howling, joined by the Chihuahuas now too. They specifically seem to have taken up barking stations right outside our screen door? Is there a wild animal near the ranch; or are horses and mules coming up from the river meadows? Getting up to check, I see nothing in the pitch dark of a cloudy night. Between periods of barking and howling, the Chihuahuas scratch and whimper at our cabin door, keeping us awake. I hurl epithets at them from under the blanket only because I am too lazy to get up and hurl anything else. Sometime during the night there is a downpour; it must have occurred between barkings because we don’t hear it; this morning the ground is heavily soaked. I am up and in the kitchen by 0630 to set the water boiling for breakfast coffee and tea and to get the beans heated up. Bob has decreed that the daily menu is henceforth to be mashed beans, one egg apiece, a tortilla and a coffee or tea. Bob and Cindy say that this is standard Mexican ranch fare and we should all get used to it. I’m all for authenticity but I suspect this might get old soon. Oh well, I guess with enough salsa anything can taste all right. I shall have to try some experimental things with beans. We are having some complications in our meal planning. The Wiggins Family are used to eating a lot of meat but, following a Biblical injunction, do not eat either pork or any pork by-products (including lard, sausage, etc.). For health reasons they also do not eat any sugar, using honey for sweetening instead. Their dietary rules exclude sausage, bacon, a lot of tinned fruit, vegetables, sauces, etc. They carefully scan the labels for taboo contents. We have bacon and pork sausage but Kathleen and I have not wanted to cook two separate menus each day so we have been living on what is essentially a vegetarian diet. That’s fine. In fact, although we would like to have more meat, that’s the way we live on the boat since we cannot keep meat without refrigeration. But now Bob has returned with some pork roast, which we would all like to eat but the Wiggins Family will not touch. This is as much fairness and diplomatic issues as it a culinary problem. What to do? Torrential rain stops work on dozer Today reminds me of rainy and cool weather in the Austrian Alps. The kind of weather where, after three days of sitting on the edge of your bed in the Pension waiting for grey skies to clear, after three days of reading John Grisham novels, you are either going to go crazy or pack your bags and head for home. In between drizzle and distant thunder, we have had torrential downpours lasting for thirty minutes or more. Bob, the Ranchero, Bill and Joe were all ready to undertake the final chapter of the dozer saga. Bill and Joe actually drove out there to at least have a look. But the rains, they said when the returned, had turned the hillside into a waterfall and the filled the arroyo streambed with rushing dirty water. The earth under the dozer was even more unstable than ever. The project has been postponed again. Dutch takes sick Dutch has really caught something while he was away. While the adults sit around this morning with wilderness medical books, Dutch sits slumped, wan and pale, on the sofa. Not only was the water at the planet-earth house this past week not good and gave him severe diarrhoea but this morning he is running a fever as well. The students at the project were also carrying viruses and maybe he has come down with that. Various treatments are discussed and discarded. In the end Dutch goes to bed after taking some homeopathic stuff. This afternoon he doesn’t look much better but he is getting bored lying in his bunk and is up and walking around. posted by *rjb,* *12:44 pm* Comments: Post a Comment
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Monday, October 10, 2005