#also i might be tripping but the director’s cut version seems much more… edited?

[cicadaknight]

turns out all i needed to enjoy death stranding was easy mode. i’ve tried to play it SIX times since it came out and was shitting my pants so much that i stopped around lake knot city and never got into the story. but now i’m cruising, reuniting the UCA one distribution center at a time

[sol1056]

hey! i noticed that you’ve written a lot about how voltron fails as a mecha series, and it got me curious about what a GOOD mecha series looks like. do you have any recs for someone whose only experience with the genre, quite literally, is voltron?

note: that is NOT where I wanted the cut. who knows what the devs are doing over there at tumblr hq.

-----

Welp, there’s more than one kind of mecha. There’s super robots -- where (in general) the robots are ultra-powered and relatively indestructible. Then there’s real robots, which will break down and/or run out of ammunition at the most dramatically critical moments. And then there’s a category that at best might be nearly-sentient robots, which have minds and motivations of their own -- but I wouldn’t say that’s a true category (in terms of the genre) so much as a distinction I've noted.

I’ve never been big into the super robot series (with a few exceptions), and I mostly find the combining robot genre to be frustrating. Former mechanic and engineer who currently works with AI, so a lot of the hand-wavey aspects are frustrating for me, especially in super robots where things mysteriously repair themselves and there’s never a struggle to upgrade/repair. (And don’t even get me started on the idea of controlling a bipedal reactive machine with only two foot pedals and a damn joystick.)

Which is all to say, I suppose I should recommend that you watch the classics, except I’m not really sure what they are because I’ve forgotten most of them. And frankly a lot of them are really shoddy animation by today’s standards, and life is too short to waste time on that. I’ll need to refer you along to other mecha fans to add their recommendations, instead.

Well, I can at least recommend Gundam and Macross, but that’s kind of like saying I recommend Doc Martens and Aididas -- that barely narrows it down, since there’s so many options within each brand. Everyone’s got their favorites in each, as do I, but any mecha series that’s stayed with me is one that found a way to either twist the core trope, or explored implications that other series glossed over.

Note: I’ve never seen any version of Eva, and never felt the urge to, either. Sorry. Ask someone else for input on that. Plus there’s also ones I’ll leave off here ‘cause they’re veering over into AI/robots/tech and less what would usually be called mecha, but they’re still worthwhile: Battle Fairy Yukikaze, Ghost in the Shell: Standalone Complex, Broken Blade, Last Exile, and Voices of a Distant Star all come to mind.

Gundam

For me, I adore the technical geeky touches in Gundam F91, but the story is total spaghetti, so you might want to skip that until you’re more familiar with the gundam tropes. (It was meant to be a series, iirc, got shut down, and they took the pieces and made a movie from it, so it’s... kind of compressed, to put it mildly). 

Gundam Wing and Gundam 00 are considerably less geeky on the technical (though they do satisfy the mechanic itch, with a bit more real robot, at least on the technicalities). I like the international core cast, and the way each series explores geopolitical dynamics. (That said, skip the second season of Gundam 00. It just goes totally off the rails into some really wild and wacky directions.)

A long-running concept like Gundam is recognizable across the series thanks to core concepts, and in Gundam’s case it’s the conflicts between imperialism and colonialism, war versus justified rebellion, and pacifism versus a first-strike as self-defense. What I liked with Wing and 00, in particular, was its central pilots felt more tied to (and aware of) the political ramifications of their actions.

I did watch about half of Iron-Blooded Orphans, which struck out in a new direction by having Mars as the colony instead of the lagrange points, but didn’t bother finishing. From what I hear, watch it with a box of tissues, as it’s a return to the classic kill-em-all perspective of the original Gundam series.

Macross

I’m sure someone else will tell you to watch the original Macross (the american version being Robotech, albeit highly edited). I know lots of people adore the first Macross series, but it’s just too late-80s for me. (The hair, my god, the hair.)

Personally, I prefer Macross Frontier -- the amination is much improved, though the fact is I also adore the voices of Yuuichi Nakamura and Aya Endō. Macross has some politics, but it’s mostly internal -- that is, the opponents aren’t human, so whatever debate there is about who’s right or wrong is mostly one-sided, since we only ever see humans doing the talking.

I tried to watch Macross Delta but it just didn’t do it for me -- and therein lies some of the issues (for me) with both Gundam and Macross. Because both have some core elements that they tackle in every series, it can start to feel a bit repetitive.

For Macross it’s always music, Valkyries (the mecha type for Macross), and a love triangle -- which sometimes isn’t even resolved. (I’ve read all kinds of debates about whether Alto ends up with Sheryl or with Ranka, but the series leaves it open.)

A good writer can explore these themes over and over, but between the two, I personally think Gundam has done a bit better of pivoting to take a new angle with each series. But at the same time, Gundam is pretty consistent about not building on a previous series -- with a few notable exceptions, most of its series are alternate-universe stories to each other. In Macross, they’re all continuations of the previous -- so if you’re not into its setup about aliens and weird diseases and whatnot, you’re only going to get more of the same in the next series.

Everything else

So here’s the series I like, but I’m not sure all of these would be counted as ‘true’ mecha by other fans (a debate I mostly ignore, so I’ll leave it to others to argue about that).

Escaflowne -- one of the rare breed of fantasy-styled mecha (Broken Blade being another one that comes to mind). The animation is strongly 80s, but the voice acting is superb, the story (originally meant to be longer, then budget cuts forced a much longer story to squeeze into half the episodes it really deserved).

[It’s also a series I’d call a harbinger, similar to tripping over little-known movies from twenty years ago and realizing every single actor including walk-on parts went on to be massive names. Escaflowne’s got that, but that also extends to its animation team, its director, its composer, on and on. All of them went onto work on some of the greatest hits of anime. That makes Escaflowne immensely (if quietly and somewhat subtly) influential, both for the genre and animation overall.]

Eureka Seven -- another not-on-Earth story. At first the mecha movement -- almost like surfing in the sky -- was odd, but they took some interesting physics concepts and made them not just worldbuilding, but integral parts of the story. Okay, I’m not keen on how the female lead gets successively down-graded as the hero ramps up, but there are some emotional implications of Massive Destructive Machines where Eureka Seven lingers that a lot of other series gloss over.

Fafner in the Azure -- another aliens-against-humans, but first off, I’m gonna say it: you either love Hisashi Hirai‘s character designs or you want to torch them with total prejudice. If you can get past that, Fafner is brutal to its characters well beyond most other series, excepting the earliest Gundams. Although (of course) the pilots are all kids, there are in-story reasons, and there are still adults running the show. And there are consequences, small and large.

Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion -- because what would life be if we didn’t have at least one mecha series with character designs from CLAMP. (Which, admittedly, I loathe, but somehow it worked here.) Can’t speak for the second season, but the first season played up something a lot of mecha bypass for just plain banging on each other, which is strategy. It caught me at the time, at least.

Full Metal Panic -- watch this after watching Gundam Wing and/or Gundam 00, to get the tropes they’re playing on with Sousuke Sagara (the ostensible protagonist who just cannot seem to relate to real human beings). I saw one description of him as “about as well-adjusted as a feral child” and that kinda fits. It’s more real robots, and of course parts require some hardcore suspension of disbelief (the commanding officer who looks 14, sounds like she’s 12, and has boobs that never occur in nature on a frame that teeny). But all told, a lot of fun and plenty of explosions.

RahXephon -- this is another oddball one, because the mecha aren’t mecha, they’re golems (as in, creatures made from clay). For all that, there’s a lot of significant mecha influence and tropes at work. It’s held up pretty well, animation-wise, considering its age (from 2002). and while it’s the same ‘strange aliens attack earth’ plotline, it spins all that off in a completely different direction.

Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann (aka Gurren Lagann) -- don’t watch this one until you’ve seen plenty of others, though, because it’s a fondly affectionate send-up of nearly every possible trope from combining to super to real robots. Cranked up to eleven.

Knights of Sidonia -- of all the ones on this list, KoS is possibly my most favorite. It was an early all-CGI series, and a lot of people were turned off by that, but once you get used to it, the story can carry you along. Like Macross Frontier, it takes place in deep space, where a colony of humans fight for survival with an incomprehensible (and nearly unstoppable) alien foe. But KoS is true science fiction, with a lot of solid science driving its dramatic points. Also--unlike most of the others series--although the characters are technically human, they’ve also evolved as a result of their time in space. For one, they have three genders, for another, they don’t eat; they photosynthesize.

[beatyoutothepunchline]

On Getting Dressed

Getting dressed in the morning has always been difficult for me. If I can, I will wear the same outfit four times in one week to avoid having to think about it any longer than necessary. My go-to outfit at the moment is my green and black J-Crew plaid button-down, my high-waisted Madewell skinny jeans with the button fly and my Doc Martens. At this point in my life, I do not ask myself, “Do you think somebody will realize you’ve been wearing the same pair of jeans for the last four days?” but, “Do these jeans look and smell clean enough that if someone were to realize you’ve been wearing them for the last four days, they wouldn’t call you out on it?” If the answer is yes, I will throw on the outfit again. I don’t dress to look nice most days. “Nice” meaning my makeup is done, my hair is straight and parts in a way that frames my face in a flattering way, my outfit is coordinated, cleaned and ironed and my shoes match the vibe I’m going for. When I look "nice" there is generally a vibe I am going for and that can vary day to day. A coat of concealer and a flat iron are nice, but it isn’t really necessary. Some days I run around Chicago in an oversized sweatshirt, with bags under my eyes and my naturally wavy hair pulled back in a ponytail. Sometimes I’m more dressed up, others I’m more dressed down. I’m most comfortable in jeans and a tee shirt and because I tend to get more done when I don’t feel like I’m sticking out for looking good or bad. There are certain days where I have to critically think about my wardrobe as I might an essay or an article for class--interviews, dates, holidays--and those days are agonizing. I would argue there is just as much nuance and subtext in the right outfit as there is in a Hemingway short story. Which is why most fashion related things go over my head. But every now and then, I force myself to stand in front of my closet and edit my wardrobe to what I wear. I’m not a person with many clothes, but there are always a few things I find I can get rid of. As I pick up each piece and I asked myself, “Is this still me?” I stopped to wonder, “How did this become my thing? Is it even my thing, or is it someone else’s?” Like most people, from birth till about I was old enough to make my own decision (and for those decisions to be preferably color coordinated, realistic, and weather/event appropriate), my clothing wasn’t my choice. So none of my clothes were my thing, rather what my mom thought would look cute on me. This is why there is a picture of me in an Angelina Ballerina tee shirts and pink capris with a fairy wand and crown on my fourth birthday, and a picture of me in fifth grade wearing a striped, pink white shirt and short sets from Old Navy while on our family trip to Hawaii, and why my first day of school photo from seventh grade I’m wearing a short sleeved and khaki jacket with a lacy pink tank top and black shorts. I can separate my current wardrobe, almost perfectly into black, white, denim, olive green, and varying shades of blue. I have one pink sweater (which my mother bought me) and while I will occasionally throw it on and wear it around my apartment, I end up tearing it off within twenty minutes because of the I cannot stand the color or cut of it. The reason I wear the monochrome is because I am pale and my skin has a naturally pink undertone. If you flip my wrist over, you can see every vein in my arm up to my elbow. You can see the veins in my feet, in my thighs and my stomach. Wearing, black, white, denim, olive and shades of blue makes the pinkish undertone is less noticable and helps the bright blue veins blend in better. Wearing pink, or bright yellow washes me out and makes weird details intense. As for the cut of it, it’s a cropped sweater with side splits up to my ribcage, on top of being wildly ineffective at keeping me warm, it makes my long torso appear even longer than it is, and it just isn’t me. Nothing in my wardrobe is really “me” though. I came to this realization after glancing at the mess of clothes scattered across my bedroom floor while taking a “break” from spring cleaning this last weekend. Everything in my closet I own because of someone else. I own a pair of Gold Cup Sperry Topsiders because my freshman year of high school there was a senior boy with a British accent who browsed the bookshelves of the library before school in a pair of Sperry’s. In the era of Victoria Secret yoga pants tucked into beat to hell Ugg boots and calf-length Nike socks slipped thoughtlessly into pairs of ADIDAS shower slides on the way out the door, his shoes, as well as the pressed khaki pants and button-down shirts, his perfectly gelled hair, and his accent, captured a kind of class that seemed lost on the rest of the students at my high school. Though my own Sperry’s seem to more closely resemble some douchebag college frat guys than the classy look of Boat Shoe Guy’s, when I look of them I think back to being fourteen, working up the guts to sit at his table in the library, not quite brave enough to say anything, and listening to him talk in what I later found out was a fake British accent about things I can’t remember with other, older people and feeling cool. Not in a conventional way. Cool in a nerdy way I didn’t realize I could be until I met him. When I look at the gold hoop earrings I keep in my great grandmother’s teacup with the rest of my small jewelry collection, I realize that my love for them comes from mother, who wore perfect silver hoops earrings frequently throughout my childhood. When I think of them I think of box blonde hair, and regrettable bangs and her capped tooth smile. I’m the opposite. My hair is dirty blonde, I don’t have bangs (never again after my mom cut thick ones so far back on my head that for several months I had Joe Dirt’s mullet). My hoops aren’t perfect circles and they are gold color, not silver.I don’t look or act much like my mother, but occasionally when I put them on I feel like I can fake that same kind of magnetic charm and try to smile with my teeth like she does. I decide I can pull off the hoops, but not the toothy grin and leave it at that. I own a black pea coat because of the movie Giant. Which doesn’t seem like it would make sense give it’s a movie set in Marfa, Texas, but let me explain. My freshman year of high school my grandma bought a copy of Giant for my dad’s birthday and one day a few weeks after she’d given it to him, I found it lying on the buffet in our living room. Being the movie buff I am, and being intregued by the front cover I decided to watch it. The entire time I just kept thinking the blond guy from the front cover was cute (which, in retrospect, is the dumbest take away a person could have after watching that film). After the movie I decided to Google him and came upon a picture of him walking down the rainy street in New York City. Wet cigarette hanging out of his mouth, collar of his iconic black black pea coat poped. And Where I can’t say I’ve ever fallen in love at first sight, I imagine it’s similar to seeing James Dean in that jacket. In an excerpt from ‘Women in Clothes,’ an anthology about how clothes define and shape us, Leanne Shapton, author and artist, writes of a similar love-at-first-sight feeling she with an Isabel Marant dress she saw a woman wearing at a party, “I admired her hair: worn loose, flecked with grey. And her manner: warm, thoughtful, sincere. She wore no makeup, and the dress, which was sack-like, lent her a modesty I liked. We spoke about our children. Then, in a lull in the conversation, I came back to the dress, complimenting it again. She nodded, knowing. Then I did something that surprised me: I leaned down and picked up the edge of her skirt and touched it, marveling aloud at the light, smooth fabric. I have never touched another woman’s dress like that before. A fur sleeve once, but I’ve never had that grasping, clutching impulse.” In her essay, Sharpton wonders if her feelings she had about the dress “also had something to do with admitting I want something. I’ve struggled with admitting what I want most of my life, not admitting until the last possible moment that I wanted a child. Admitting I flat-out wanted this dress was new to me. I was nervous.” Where I can’t say I relate to the wanting a kid portion of that statement, I can relate to the feeling of wanting something. Wanting to be unique and confident, two feelings I don’t feel like I’ve ever fully had but have just been chasing after my whole life. The reason my go-to outfit is what it is is because of directors like Sofia Coppola and Point Break era, Kathryn Bigelow. There is this picture of Kathryn Bigelow standing in front of a monitor next to Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze: white tee shirt, baggy blue jeans, cool boxy shades, and a Reebok baseball hat. When I don’t know what to wear, or when I need to do something I’m not sure I can, I dress up and pretend to be somebody I think can figure it out. Be the woman who can direct a surfer bank heist movie, the woman who can speak French, beautifully while eating a croissant, scarlet lips pouted, Rick Blaine tripping over his shit, the Dude who’s got no idea how the hell things are going to work out, but isn’t too worried about it. Cause maybe things just will in the end. It isn’t an exact copy, it looks similar enough to them that I’m able to capture their attitude, power. . . their magic, but different enough that it’s still me. So I put on my version of that outfit when I don’t know what else to wear because it is comfortable and easy and because I’ve tricked myself into thinking it will inspire some sort of brilliant direction and confidence I don’t feel like I have on my own. Even if it doesn’t do what I think it will and my voice gets caught in my throat and I let someone talk over me, or I get rejected, or I fail and fall flat on my face. When I wear my navy Calvin Klein wrap dress, everyone I know groans and says, “You wear that all the time. Don’t you own another dress?” I do. There is the ombre floor length prom dress that lives back of my closet at my parent's house which I bought because it made me look like Jennifer Aniston, and the crochet white and orange dress that I bought from Urban Outfitter’s because it reminded me of Shasta Fay Hepworth’s orange dress in Paul Thomas Anderson’s Inherent Vice. I don’t usually have the occasion to wear either of these dresses, but the navy wrap dress works for almost any occasion so that’s why I wear it. It creates some shape on my fairly shapeless form, and I like it because it makes me feel like Lauren Bacall. Equal parts sexy, mysterious and classy in a way that I am otherwise not. I’ve never worn it on a date, but I’d be lying if I said if I’d never worn it to a half hour meeting to look “nice” only to walk around downtown Chicago just to see people turn their heads and wonder, “Who is she?” Then, for a fraction of a second, I am the woman I’m not to somebone. When I am at home on Saturday mornings, and my hair is all frizzed out and drooled on and I can’t be bothered to put on actual pants, I walk around in my boxers, oversized and stained Sid’s Liquor tee shirt and a cardigan. I throw on some sunglasses, debate making myself a White Russian and go full-on “The Dude” from The Big Lebowski. Cause it’s hard to relax when you live and work in the same place and I can only seem to do it when I’m someone else. But it is me? Dressing up as someone else might get me through the day, but what if I never take risks as myself? Years from now, will there be some girl who sees a pair of Madewell skinny jeans at the bottom of a pile at a thrift store or finds an old pair of boots that will say, “Oh my god, I love it. It’s so Sidney Thompson.” if I can’t even dress up like her? Am I just a shot for shot remake with nothing new to offer, to contribute, to inspire? Will people see me or will they tease my style apart and say, “Oh, she’s ripping off So-and-So.” I’d like to think I’m more of a Quentin Tarantino homage to all my favorite fashion icons. You can see where I stole, but I’d like to think every now and then there’s someone out there is able to see that part of me poking through one of my costumes and thinks it’s pretty cool.

[skammovistarplus]

Culture and Translation - S01 E06

This is a bit of a weird episode, in that it feels like not much happened. Because Skam España switched a few things around, it seems like episode 6 shouldn’t be the episode in which to hang out with the characters for a while before shit goes down. But one thing that got me hooked to Skam almost straight away was the way you got to “hang out” with the characters even in small, drama-free moments, and this episode has a couple of clips I really like.

CLIP 1: Monday blues

Es que le metiste un corte (You were razor sharp with him): “Meter un corte” is really hard to translate. It basically means to be really cutting with someone when they aren’t expecting it, in a way that shuts the conversation for good. Which Amira did, over and over, but the dude wasn’t getting the hint.

I do think Nora feels a little bad for the guy, but only because Nora is extremely empathetic with everyone in the world, to the point where it’s surprising when she’s not empathetic.

Viri is a great liar. We will come to find out much of what she says in this scene is a lie, but she has no tells. This is why I think the Selena Gomez shoe line thing was Viri teasing the girls, because she broke character almost immediately. If Viri wanted the girls to believe it, we can see here that she would’ve managed.  

Nora’s shirt says, “No means no.” ‘No es no’ was first a slogan for an awareness campaign, promoted by several Spanish city halls, which aimed to curtail sexual abuse and rape during local festivals, such as Sanfermines. There’s also an Axel, Soledad song. And it has of course been slapped on all sorts of merchandise. Like shirts!

The sides of the mirror are tagged with graffiti, by the way.

And also, Eva and Nora are late for first period! They end up skipping it entirely.

CLIP 2: Lucas has feels; Eva’s are stronger

Eva and Lucas are listening to Molly Svrcina’s Fallen Angel. I think the point of the song was lost in how incredibly random the song is. This is a song Lucas recommends Eva listen to. It’s about Lucas, not Eva. Lucas is trying to give a hint to Eva about himself, but Eva’s too focused on the Jorge drama.

While this clip dropped during recess, Eva skipped school. Not sure if Lucas did as well, though.

It’s Viri who shares a birthday with Paris Jackson, as I already wrote in the post for last episode.

Alejandro Reina does a nice bit of acting with his eyes at the 5:22 mark. Lol, Lucas is so fucking tired of the Eva/Jorge drama carousel.    

Y tú me caes de puta madre (“And I think you’re fucking great”): Lucas is not just saying that he thinks Eva’s great. He’s saying he really fucking likes Eva (as a friend, that is!).

Es que sigo enfadada (“‘Cause I’m still upset”): This is a sentiment that will be expressed often this week by Eva, Jorge and Lucas. I’ve seen subs that translate it “enfadada” as “angry” and it’s not wrong, but I feel Eva and Jorge are both more upset than angry during this week. Your mileage may vary, though!

CLIP 3: Ship wars

Cullera: Cullera is a beach city in the Valencia region that has been taken over by tourists (or guiris, if you will!). There are some nice sights, but people visit for the beaches. Many Spanish familes own some sort of apartment by the beach, but Cullera is a step up from the usual, which is Torremolinos. A hint about Inés’ parents’ economic status! Cullera means “spoon” in Valencian language, by the way.

Easter break: The 2019 Easter break runs from the 12th of April to the 22th. Coincidentally, there are some rumors that s2 will premiere after Easter break 2019.

Tú no te líes, que el viaje importante es el de Mallorca, ¿eh? (Okay, but don’t lose sight of the important trip, the Majorca trip, huh?): A closer translation would be: “Don’t get sidetracked, the important trip is the Majorca trip, okay?” Which is actually a shorter line, so we should maybe change that, lol.

Que parezcamos ahí dos lapas como estas parejitas que están por ahí (For us to look like two barnacles like those couples you see everywhere): The literal translation would be, “for us to look like two barnacles like those couples that are around,” but that sounded like shade towards Eva and Jorge, who are also broken up this week. It’s not meant as shade, and in fact Eva has no reaction to it, so I reworked it.

Viri’s economic background is hinted through her confusion with job titles. In Spanish, she doesn’t remember if Alejandro’s father is a “director” (which could be translated as director, manager, and even principal, but also CEO) and “directivo” (executive or CEO). I settled for initials salad.

There is a bit of dialogue at the end that was cut from the episode version. The girls present their final arguments in the Viriandro vs Aleviri debate… which ironically, foreshadowed the Norandro vs Alenora shipname wars. It appears as if most of the fandom has settled on Norandro, at last.

Viri: It’s that, it’s like a Greek god.

Cris: What are you, Voldemort or something?

Viri: It’s like, it’s funny because it’s like a Greek god, like Viriandro is a Greek god sort of name. Yeah, it’s super neat.

Cris: It’s a gladiator name, dude!

Almost totally off topic linguistics note: The girls use the English loanword “ship” in the fandom sense. The verb had obviously crossed language lines in fandom spaces years ago, but it became part of mainstream Spanish culture (yes, really) when Operación Triunfo became big last year, and everyone was shipping couples from the show. The interesting part is that Spanish speakers came up with two declensions for the Spanish form of the verb: “yo lo shippeo” (I ship it) and “yo lo shippo” (again, I ship it). People who had been in fandom longer leaned towards “shippeo” (and so do I!), so I find it aesthetically pleasing that the girls favor that declension.  

CLIP 4: Eva shoots his shot. It doesn’t go well.

I was certain Jorge’s secret would have to do with one or both his parents being unemployed, so at the time I made note of the fact that one of the apartments he walks by is up for sale. It’s the reddish orange sign at the 10:06 mark.

The song that plays at the end of the clip is Zahara’s El Frío, but it has been edited. These are the lyrics that have made it to the clip: “I didn’t expect that the one who started all the fires would also be the one to put them out. How did you let the cold inside you, it has destroyed everything.”

CLIP 5: Speederman

This has to be a change from my high school years. I did the Cooper test in 3º ESO (the equivalent of 9th grade in the US) and never had to do it again through high school. 

More info on the Cooper test, in case you care. Not only was I not tested on a standard 400 m tartan track, but we were also not trained to perform it properly. Ah, high school PE!

Venom premiered in Spain the 5th of October. This clip dropped the 19th of October.

Yes, that is actually how we pronounce Spiderman in Spain.

I love that Nora is into Viri saying she loves anything that has to do with saving the world. Nora is so earnest, lol.

¿O qué vas a hacer, tía? ¿Quedarte en casa llorando? (“Or what do you have in mind, dude? Staying at home, crying?”): Another translation could be, “Or what are you going to do, dude? Stay at home and cry?” but I went with the line in the subs because I thought it flowed better.

Cómo jode que te dejen, ¿eh? (It sucks to be dumped, doesn’t it?): “Sucks” is a lot less charged than “joder,” which is the word Inés actually uses. I guess you’d have to say “fucking sucks” to get the intensity across. You’ll have to make do with Inés’ line delivery.

CLIP 6: Ride of the Valkyries

As it turns out, Alba Planas is also a fan of og Skam, so I’m going to pretend Eva’s string of sorries is also an homage to Tarjei’s delivery.

This scene was shot right outside of Cine Paz. 

Pero no me seáis pavas (“But don’t be silly”): Viri says “pavas,” which is hard to translate. Essentially, Viri’s afraid the girls are going to embarrass her in front of Alejandro, either unintentionally or (not unlikely given this group) intentionally. I.e. they’re not going to behave maturely in front of him.

Madre mía (Good heavens): Okay, so I already talked in the post for episode 5 about the way Amira uses interjections that aren’t swear words, and this is an example of it. “Madre mía” literally means “mother of mine” and it’s basically meaningless as an interjection. What matters is the tone you add to it. In this case, Amira’s impatient that the girls are getting distracted chatting about whatever, instead of going into the theater. I don’t love “good heavens” as it has Christian connotations. On the other hand, “geez” feels too short for how impatient Amira sounds.

It took me a while to realize this, but this clip actually has an og equivalent. This would be the clip where Vilde notices William and Sara hooking up, and looks devastated. Skam España chooses to go about it in a totally different way, with the girls backing Viri up as they walk in.

CLIP 7: Tout le monde veut devenir un cat

Sí, hija, sí (“Yeah, girl, yeah”): Jorge actually calls Eva “daughter,” lol. Much like with tío and tía, we might call anyone “son” or “daughter.” I’ve even caught myself using it on my own parents! If I have the right info, this is also common in Latin American countries, except they use “mijo” and “mija,” instead. “Hijo” or “hija” is more affectionate than “tío” or “tía,” although, much like with “madre mía,” it’s used to express a variety of emotions. Here, Jorge is dismayed that his chocolate romance went awry.

Pretty sure those are knockoff peanut M&Ms. Most likely from the Spanish grocery chain Mercadona.

The song that plays at the end of the clip and through the credits is Bely Basarte’s Mariposas. You can find a translation here. 

Tomás Aguilera, who plays Jorge, has managed to be almost impossible to find online. However, his instagram bio makes reference to the French version of the Aristocats song Everybody wants to be a cat. It’s adorable.

Social media:

The girls talk about the Zaorejas random again, Cris notes that he looked young enough as to be in ESO, or MSE, Mandatory Secondary Education. MSE runs through the equivalents of 7th to 10th grade in the US. 

[theinquisitivej]

SteamHeart Episodes 9 & 10 Reactions

It’s been a while, but we’re here – this is SteamHeart.

Whether you’re a newcomer or a long-time fan of the alternate history fictional series New Century, there’s a lot to be excited about when it comes to this new entry. SteamHeart is a grand road trip narrative that follows a group of charming and capable characters embarking on a mission of utmost importance. It’s set in the late 19th Century in the Reunified States of America, a country that has just barely come back from the brink of total disintegration after being confronted with the Wendigo, a devastating and savage new species of uncertain origin.

         That’s the set-up, and while there’s a few extra details from the preceding New Century stories that will doubtless come up in SteamHeart as it progresses, that’s all anyone really needs to know before jumping into this new story. It may be the instalment that closes out the first phase of this overarching narrative, but SteamHeart is very considerate towards newcomers. Relistening to the first eight chapters of the audiobook through the podcast, I found that everything you need to know about the setup of this world and the pasts of all the key characters is given to you in a way you can easily digest if it’s all new. Not too much is thrown at you all at once, and the personality of the different characters narrating all of this always comes across, meaning that you not only know who they are straight away, but you also have a compelling way to find out all this information. You will not be at a disadvantage if you’ve never heard of New Century and start listening to SteamHeart.

         But, if you are curious to know more about what this story is, and what the first eight episodes are about, then I have a list of writeups you can check out if you want to take a deep dive into one of the best alternate history fantasy series out there. If appealing characters, the steampunk aesthetic, Westerns, huge anthropomorphic badass purple tigers, nail-biting human drama, survival horror/action against savage and fascinating beasts, or decent writing in general is up your alley, start listening to SteamHeart here, and then read the following articles to get you all caught up on where we were when we last left off on this story.

Since these chapters were originally published in a slightly different order before the definitive edition of Secret Rooms was a thing, the titles of these articles may not reflect how they are currently ordered or titled in SteamHeart.

‘Chapter One: The Fall’, ‘Chapter Two: Sharpshooters’, and ‘Chapter Three: Last Survivor’

‘Chapter Four: The Subtle Engineer’, ‘Chapter Five: The Starlit Eyes’, and ‘Chapter Six: The Shadow in the South’ 

‘Chapter Seven: Return of the Hunter’ and ‘Chapter Eight: Armor’ 

         So, after finishing Let Them Go, reexperiencing Secret Rooms in its best form, we have returned to SteamHeart. We’re back in – Let’s ride.

 Chapter Nine: Eight Dresses

You can listen to the episode here. 

Preparations are underway for the ball that will introduce Team Steam, the new name for the group going on this expedition, to the general public. We get a brief discussion on the stifling world of formal women’s fashion of the time period. Despite the Reunified States being an even harsher place to live than the America of our world in the 19th Century, keeping up appearances is evidently still a necessary duty for anyone dealing in politics or public engagement. There may only be one dress maker left in Washington, but their services are nevertheless still required, so society hasn’t entirely moved past unnecessary decadence. The whole thing seems ridiculous and uncomfortable to Abigail. She reflects on the excessive and dangerous lengths people go to in order to put together a finished ballroom dress, and when she’s pushed into the pink monstrosity and the suffocatingly tight orange dress, this insane world of fashion and Abigail seem incompatible with one another. It’s cathartic to see her rip the orange dress and talk about buying and burning the shop down once she returns from the mission a rich and famous hero. Still, Abigail is aware that the mood has changed after she vents her frustrations, noting that whatever playful levity had been there had been sapped away by her behaviour. There’s no dramatic altercation, but the development of the scene does echo those moments in life where spirits flare up and all of a sudden the easy-going atmosphere of the situation has dissipated without our meaning it to.

         We move on to a scene with some really solid characterisation of Annie and a wonderful moment shared between her and her husband Frank Butler. Annie is still turning over in her head the weight of responsibility that has been put on her by Director Arlington. She has been given a direct order to execute her charge if the situation calls for it, and the possibility of that scenario coming to pass is messing her sense of surety in her own judgement. She has no idea what tiny decision might set off a chain of events that means she has to make that call, and that much anxiety would make anyone susceptible to indecision. It could explain why Annie seemed particularly upset in the previous scene when Abigail was being deliberately difficult with Truth; Annie doesn’t want Abigail to be butting heads, because one day that could reach a point where the two of them will fall out to such an extent that Annie will either not be able to make a clearly thought out decision, not be able to properly protect Abigail, or even be forced to follow her orders and execute her. Annie made a promise to Katherine Holloway to look after James and Abigail, and she must be feeling torn up inside to know that she may one day have to break her promise in the worst possible way.

         But bless Frank, he lifts the situation up in just the right way. Giving Annie the dress and the means for her to make all the changes she actually wants for her very own dress shows just how well he knows her. Frank knows that Annie can sew, he knows what kind of dress she would want, and he knows that having something she can work on and control right now will do her the world of good when so many things feel out of control. The performances of Laureta Sela and Spencer Leeb do hit just the right tone of tenderness and genuine joy that their respective characters feel when they’re in each other’s company. Seeing this perfect moment that these two people who love each other get to enjoy is profoundly touching. Don’t you dare harm them Alex, I know you’re thinking about it. AH- DON’T.

         We transition to another tender moment of a husband and wife enjoying a secluded minute to themselves as Sarah and Thomas Arlington get ready for the ball. Sarah recalls the effort that she, Truth, and Harry had gone through to reconvince Thomas that it makes the most sense for Harry to go on the mission with the others, even if his paternal protectiveness and general wariness of danger on all sides makes this a difficult decision for him. We see Thomas exhibit his characteristic mistrust of the world when he lays Sarah’s bullet proof jacket on the bed, asking her to wear it as a precaution and a favour to him. If Thomas had it his way, he would enclose himself and the people that matter to him in the most airtight, perfect suit of armour he could find. The events of Arlington make it easy to see why he feels this way.

         But Sarah isn’t Thomas, and his gesture presents her with a dilemma that she has to seriously consider. Wearing the armour is a statement, and even if its disguise as a civilian jacket means that very few people will realise she’s making it, she has to decide if she’s comfortable knowing that she chose to make that statement. Sarah wants to trust people – it’s an elemental part of who she is, as represented by Sarah’s remark after her mind goes to the many outfits in her wardrobe, as she says “not all of which went with this jacket of mine”. This jacket is a part of her wardrobe, but it’s not compatible with every outfit she would normally wear, and I would argue it’s not entirely compatible with who she wants to be. This time, she resigns herself to wearing the armour, but she resolves with a strong determination that she will step outside without armour another day. It’s a small decision that provokes an introspective moment that explores meaningful questions of trust and our unspoken interactions with the rest of the world. And yes, it does have a profound resonance for those who have a strong attachment to Arlington.

         The epilogue of this episode tells us that Truth fantasised as a child that she would grow up to be Queen of America. It’s a cute fact about Truth’s childhood that provides a small glimpse into a more playful side of her character. It also provides context as to why she has such a head for politics and public engagement. She’s played with the idea of leading a nation her whole life, and the fact that the childhood version of her wanted to be Queen of a monarch-less country is indicative of a romanticised vision of what a leader could and should be. It’s a surprising thing to learn about the pragmatic, more calculating version of her that we know.

 Chapter Ten: The April Ball

You can listen to the episode here.

I love those episodes or chapters of ongoing fiction where we get to see the main characters go to a party. Cutting between different individuals or pairings to see how the different personalities are handling themselves in an environment we don’t usually get to see them in can be a source of memorable humour and especially enjoyable character moments. It can also lead to some meaningful moments of introspection that can come out in a unique way; sometimes there are those strange, lucid moments that sneak up on you when you’re at a party where you suddenly become very reflective or melancholy. It doesn’t always have to be a party either. ‘The Ember Island Players’ is one of my favourite episodes of Avatar: The Last Airbender because it’s a respite for the main group right before things are going to get more intense than they ever have before, so it’s a chance for both the characters and the writers of the show to have a little bit of fun before they close out their journey. I bring this up because I get a little bit of a sense of that with ‘Chapter Ten: The April Ball’, especially due to its name which suggests the ball is a spring-time event, a season of vitality and optimism when things are on the up and up. Team Steam is going to be heading out on a grand journey that will be full of perils, so it makes sense both within the context of the story and from a structural point of view to have this ball where we get to see our characters at a party.

         Having said that, it’s not a fun filled jubilant occasion for everyone. Raven’s opening narration catches new readers up on the current state of class divisions in the Reunified States, going over how, when the Wendigo was at the doors of the people of America, high social standings didn’t do much to help you out, and they certainly didn’t give you a lot of skills to fall back on when you were part of little pockets of survivors and had to find a way to contribute to the group. A large percentage of the upper class didn’t make it. Even so, this ball has brought out the last remnants of that world, along with those who have risen up and established themselves at the top of the ladder in this new society. The atmosphere is hardly convivial, and several members of the main cast don’t appear to be at ease in this setting. Abigail feels out of place and sees James, who looks completely right for the occasion, as her lifeline, but is denied this when they’re separated. Harry finds that there’s a little too much information to take in, managing to stay afloat when James, sympathetic to her feelings in this situation, walks her through the steps (both for the dance and how to get by when surrounded by this many people). Most heart-breaking of all, Jeremy and Donald have been partnered with other people and, for all-intents-and-purposes, have been forbidden by Truth to dance together or show any signs that they’re a couple. It’s painful to hear about Jeremy putting on a smile while barely keeping back his tears. The injustice of society working against people being with who they love if it doesn’t fit their standards is eloquently summarised by Harry’s remark “it’s such a shame they won’t let us dance with who we really want to”. A perfect summation of denied love. Even Truth, who has an eye for navigating her way through these parties, addresses the fact that this is not a place for our characters to relax. She briefs the other female members of the group on their approach, telling them that they’re here to make connections and work on making the best impression of the group and the mission they can – “There’s a time for fun and games, and it’s not at parties”. The mood of this episode is playful at times, and there are moments where you’re happy for this chance to rest before things get dangerous. But it also shows why these settings can be a source of anxiety, and why putting on a show for the world can be soul crushing.

         One of the most intense scenes at the ball is when Abigail dances with Arlington. Hearing her thoughts as she struggles to get a read on him shows how striking the effect he has on people is. He has a quiet fire that is frightening and magnetic all at once. Abigail even confesses that she sees many of the qualities in him that attracts her to James. The two men do share a calculating disposition that values logic which seems cold at first, but it hides a passionate resolve that flares to the surface when it counts. Arlington moves with a stoic surety that compels Abigail to follow his steps as they dance, which acts as a poetic metaphor of his approach to politics and his efforts to lead this country. For the time being, Arlington is leading this dance, and the country, in a way which seems correct and will likely get them through to the end of all this. But he and Abigail talk of the desire to deliberately put a foot wrong, just to see what will happen. Arlington is conducting himself exactly as he knows he should, but there is a part of him that wants so badly to kick the table over and meet the people he sees as enemies on his terms. When Abigail asks how long they can continue this dance, he answers “as long as we can” with sad, tired resignation. I find Arlington to be one of the most fascinating characters in all of New Century.

         There are so many pieces of great writing and enjoyable character moments peppered throughout this chapter, so to finish off I’ll quickly go through some of my favourite bits. Abigail noticing Thomas and Sarah Arlington’s armoured jackets and wondering what they expect to happen and feeling worried is a decent payoff to the end of the previous episode when Sarah deliberated over whether to wear the jacket or not, showing us that she was right to think about the message such an action conveys. The footman announcing each of the main characters and his occasional embarrassment and frustration at being interrupted is a fun to watch, and Abigail’s commentary on how each person is received and how they conduct themselves speaks volumes of their different characters. When James and Abigail share a mischievous laugh together afterwards, it’s absolutely adorable. I ship it. Later, Abigail meets the blusterous buffoon Dutch Van Tassel, and she describes him as having “a great big bushy beard”. Now, this might just be a result of having watched this film a dozen or so too many times, but hearing that statement makes me wonder if that’s intended to be a reference to Hot Fuzz. Abigail gets bailed out from her conversation with Dutch by- oh sweet, it’s Li! She was a cool addition to the cast in Arlington, and I’m definitely glad to have her quiet, steely temperament back. Annie and Frank have the good fortune to be able to dance with the person they love and openly display that connection to the world, but they’re also compassionate enough to help those who aren’t having as great a time. I’m glad that Annie helps Jeremy get close to Donald, and when Frank speculates that Harry has feelings for James it did make sense, as I had similar suspicions. I continue to enjoy Frank and Harry’s relationship, as he’s a good friend to her and knows just how to word things. I’m pleased that Abigail gets to meet Nathanial Curtis and that she gets along with him. He’s an accomplished and immensely respectable man who nevertheless has the humble nobility of an old friendly soldier, so it’s no wonder that Abigail likes him immediately, especially with her father being a soldier as well. The episode and the party conclude with Abigail stepping outside for some air and meeting Raven, and his honesty is refreshing, even if his attitude means he isn’t the smoothest conversationalist. The instruments finish playing their music, and the applause signals the end of the episode.

I do love a party.

         Chapter Ten’s epilogue tells us that Thomas and Sarah have twelve days left, referring to the closing events of Arlington. But I have to wonder whether the wording means that the significance of the statement is that they each have twelve days left, or that they have twelve days left of being together. Either way, it’s an immensely sad thought.

[johnandrasjaqobis]

I finished a short thing with Thomas. (Promise chapter 19 is coming, it’s still in editing.)

If you prefer it is also on AO3. It is also short enough to warrant putting on here.

random acts

It was the first time he’d pulled rank.

The Directorate hadn’t technically objected -- at least not out loud. Granted, there had been far fewer issues since the SRB had been assigned a full-time director; after all, that many years with just an acting director, courtesy of Dr. Ayo, was certainly long enough to wait before admitting that Dr. Zimmer wasn’t coming back.

If the new head of the SRB, Dr. Sanchez (and honestly, was everyone in the building a doctor?), also happened to agree with Thomas’s views on how it should be run, that was purely coincidence.

If the new head of the SRB decided that the program needed drastic alterations, well, who was Thomas to tell her she was wrong?

(“The Director of the damn Institute,” he thought he heard Li mutter once, and she did sort of have a point.)

When, months later, it came to dismantling the one major thing that made that department a place the synths skirted around, that made it a hushed threat rather than an actual benefit to the Institute as a whole, that took some pushing. That much took pulling the, “I’m the Director of the damn Institute,” card in the middle of Directorate meeting.

So it happened. There was some grumbling, and Thomas knew he’d have to claw his way back from the drop in popularity that would inevitably come around because of it. But it got done, under his very pointed supervision from the observation deck set above the room (and the fact that they had an observation deck at all just made the process all the more satisfying).

He’d been missing his usual shadow that day, but that had been a very pointed decision. It had also taken a lot of reasoning, and finally a direct order, which he generally avoided giving if it could be helped, to get X6 to take a short job on the surface.

They both knew it was specifically to get X6 away for a while. Meeting with a few Minutemen patrols didn’t take a Courser, let alone the Director’s personal bodyguard. Hell, it might be a little counterintuitive, since most people around the ‘Wealth still had a very healthy fear of Coursers.

Might need to do a little damage control there later. That was a problem for another day.

When X6 came into the office, he still had the thin layer of dust that everyone picked up after spending any time on the surface. It was a little touching that he’d apparently put aside getting the “contaminants” off in favor of making sure Thomas hadn’t somehow abruptly died in the past eight hours.

“I feel I should remind you, sir,” X6 noted by way of greeting, “that you did assign specific parties to interact with the militia’s leaders.”

Thomas had to hold back a snort, pushing his chair out and swiveling it enough to see X6 properly. “Yeah, I know. Figured you could use the fresh air.”

There was something close to disdain on the Courser’s face for a split second. “I wouldn’t call anything above ground...fresh.”

“Alright, fair.” The piece of metal felt heavier than it should in his pocket when Thomas stood. “How did it go?”

X6 shifted his weight marginally in his version of a shrug. “Private Kayton had nothing significant to report. The bridge to the west of Bunker Hill took marginal damage when one of the vehicles’ cores failed. He has the impression the stability wasn’t affected, but we may need to send a team to evaluate it.”

Thomas nodded, chewing his bottom lip absently for a moment as he thought. “I’ll let Franklin know know tomorrow -- he’s not gonna be happy about it, but that route is gonna be even more of a pain in the ass if we lose that bridge.”

“Franklin has been more cooperative regarding surface trips since his firearms training,” X6 noted, “despite the fact that his scores have never been above average.”

“Well,” Thomas scoffed, “not everyone is physically capable of getting your kinds of scores, pal.”

“Which is why I am not usually assigned missions that have next to no risk of confrontation.” X6’s head tipped just a little to one side, and that alone asked the question that he wouldn’t ask out loud.

Probably because it would seem like he was questioning the Director’s orders. As much as Thomas insisted that questioning him was a good thing (because hell, he still didn’t know what he was doing half the time), it never really happened. Not outright, anyway. Not in words.

Thomas gave a conceding nod. “Truth is, I got some work done around here today. I just wanted…” He hesitated. It sounded almost childish to say out loud, but it wasn’t like it was wrong. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

X6 raised an eyebrow. Even that much was an impressive development from when they had first started traveling together -- even more so that he was willing to do it within the Institute.

“A surprise.”

It was more of a statement than a question. Thomas nodded anyway.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “it’s kinda dumb, but…”

No point in making a bigger deal of it than it needed to be.

Thomas held out the piece of metal wordlessly, and it took a couple of seconds for X6 to take it with a look that was as close as he ever got to confused. It wasn’t any kind of artwork -- the edges still clearly showed that it had been cut from a larger chunk, and Thomas had only managed to bend it into some kind of rough circle before he’d given up.

“Dr. Sanchez says this was part of the...calibrator or something,” Thomas said, resisting the urge to fidget as X6 turned it over in his hands. “I dunno enough about engineering to know if that’s true, but I guess that much isn’t too important.”

X6 looked up. Not for the first time, Thomas was very tempted to take those damn sunglasses off himself, (he knew it wouldn’t be met with any resistance, but he also wasn’t that much of an ass) so he might stand a slightly better chance of reading what little expressions X6 had.

“Calibrator to what?” X6 asked after a moment. His voice was low, and something in it said he already knew the answer.

“The chair,” Thomas told him, “if you could ever call that damn thing a chair to begin with.” He jerked his head in the general direction of the SRB. “Team went in this afternoon as soon as we got the official approval.”

There was the short pause that Thomas equated with an unseen confused blink. “Sir?”

Thomas let his arms swing out to the sides in a vague shrug. “It’s gone, X6.”

X6 closed his hand around the metal, surprisingly gentle for someone who Thomas had seen crush someone’s throat with that same hand. “The Directorate hadn’t --”

“I got approval,” Thomas cut in. “Probably stepped on a few toes to do it, but it worked. Sanchez had my back, she always has, and considering she heads the department anyway, it was a little harder for the others to argue.”

“She removed the reclamation chair?”

Thomas let out a breathy laugh. “That’s putting it lightly. It’s gone. I had it ripped out, broken down for scraps, it’s gone. No one can use that damn thing again.” He’d taken a step closer before noticing, still searching X6’s face for something he could recognize. At least he was tall enough that the Coursers didn’t tower over him like they did a lot of the scientists. “The department’s changing. No more wipes. For anyone.”

The silence was almost expectant as X6 stared down at the circle of metal again. Then Thomas found himself being pulled into a tight, nearly bone-cracking hug, and that might have been one of the last things he’d expected to come of this.

It didn’t seem like anything to complain about, though.

X6’s very low, “Thank you,” did make something tighten in Thomas’s chest. He decided to blame it on the possibility of a cracked rib.

There wasn’t any very abrupt and total change among the synths, but change did happen. Something in their posture relaxed a little, and he could hear the occasional burst of laughter from a few that were talking together in the atrium when Thomas walked through. It would keep getting better, but there were literal decades of baggage to get past. Not something that could be rushed.

He could see the changes with X6 even more, simply because they were around each other nearly constantly. The vast majority of the time, the walls stayed up, and the usual stony look stayed firmly in place.

Now, though, the rare times he did let an expression come through, they looked more real and less thought out. The smiles started to increase. The disagreements were given words instead of a very quiet huff of breath. It still all happened more frequently on the surface, as before, but up there, Thomas actually heard him laugh once.

The circle of metal had somehow ended up on a thin chain that hung around X6’s neck, kept tucked under the collar of his coat. If he had picked up the habit of touching it before smiling or arguing or showing traces of individuality, Thomas didn’t think it worth mentioning.

The chair was gone. It was a good reminder to have.

It was good, solid evidence that things were finally changing.

[mytherapistsays-blog]

The Princess Switch is a Tale as Old as Time

The Princess Switch is a Tale as Old as Time ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ @MyTherapistSays ⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣ https://mytherapistsays.ca/the-princess-switch-is-a-tale-as-old-as-time/

Or… as old as the merging-of-two-frames editing technique. Vanessa Hudgens is the latest star to sink down to join in on the low budget Christmas movie train, playing two mysteriously identical strangers who swap places and assume each other’s identities. Sound familiar? The answer should be yes, because since time immemorial we’ve witnessed many a Disney starlet in more or less the same film. The question is, who did it better? Someone call Us Weekly, because we are blowing this sh*t wide open.

IT TAKES TWO

(MARY KATE & ASHLEY OLSEN, 1995)

Okay, to be fair (barring any outlandish conspiracy theories), these two actually are separate human beings, but the identity swap principle still applies. In this 90’s classic, orphan-girl/ inner-city-kid Amanda attempts to trespass explores the woods beyond the grounds of her summer camp and bumps (quite literally) into prim and proper Alyssa, who lives with her rich ass wealthy father, Roger. Amanda is about to be adopted by the Butkises, the family who collects kids for child labour- actually you know what, it was for child labour- and Alyssa is about to have the gold-digging stepmother from hell, Clarice. They decide to swap places so Alyssa can know what it’s like to be a real kid and Amanda can know what it’s like to have real human affection, and they work together to set up Alyssa’s social worker with Amanda’s father. Chaos, food fights, and less-than-romantic horseback rides ensue.

Pros: Olsen twins before their acting skills absolutely nosedived. Kirstie Alley. Whoever the rich dad’s driver was.

Cons: The Butkises. The horror that was THIS scene.

Most memorable line:

Amanda: It’s got to be that can’t-eat, can’t-sleep, reach-for-the-stars, over-the-fence, World Series kind of stuff, right?

THE PARENT TRAP

(LINDSAY LOHAN, 1998)

Another unmistakable 90’s classic, which also coincidentally involves the same-but-not-the-same girls to meet over summer camp. Hallie is a cool, laid back Cali gal while Annie is a posh English girl. Despite a rocky start meeting at summer camp (what are the chances!) the girls realize they have the same birthday… and the same parents- wait, they’re sisters?! They decide to switch places so that they can like, actually MEET the other parent who has abandoned them for years, and set up their rich vineyard owning father with their classy but slightly disheveled mother, and also get rid of their treacherous stepmother to be, Meredith Blake. They succeed, and though this movie has the best cast and best soundtrack possible, it is seriously unsettling how f*cked up it is for their parents to keep them apart and live without one of their own daughters. What kind of co-parenting tactic is that?!

Pros: Dennis Quaid. Dennis Quaid. Dennis Quaid. The epic handshake sequence. Vineyards. London. The crackling-candy-wrapper-to-sound-like-static phone hack. Also Janice from Friends.

Ohhh. Myyyy. GAAAHD.

Cons: The cringey prank wars between Hallie and Annie that are honestly very telling of how frightening and ruthless 12 year old girls can be. The hot-pin-and-apple-as-a-homemade-ear-piercing-kit. Meredith and the lizard. This movie is not for the weak of stomach.

Most memorable line:

Hallie (or Annie, who tf knows): So if your Mom is my Mom and my Dad is your Dad… and we’re both born on October 11th, then you and I are… like… sisters.

THE LIZZIE MCGUIRE MOVIE

(HILARY DUFF, 2003)

In the best movie-from-a-TV-show production of all time, Lizzie and her, like what, eighth grade graduation class take a graduation trip to Italy (??? wtf? Is this PCA? How is everyone affording this?). Lizzie bumps into Paolo, a cute, charming Italian boy whose age I am really troubled by and don’t want to think about too much tbh, because I am already scarred from watching one too many episodes of Age Gap Couples. While Gordo is trapped in the Upside Down friend zone, Lizzie begins gallivanting around Rome with Paolo, who out of the blue drops a bomb on her that she is the exact Doppelganger for his former singing partner and could she like, assume her identity? Leave it to Lizzie McGuire to say yes, Kate willingly helping her out by covering for her (yes, hell really has freezed over) and shit to hit the fan. It all ends with Paolo being exposed for the weenie that he is (which we really should have anticipated from this lewk below):

We have Lizzie performing at the Colo freakin seum, while Gordo is clawing his way out of the friend zone (but I’m sure if Lizzie McGuire continued into their high school years she would have fallen for a Jesse McCartney or equivalent hottie of the day and dumped Gordo’s ass).

Pros: Italy. Pasta. Ethan Craft!

Cons: Paolo. No Miranda?!

Most Memorable Lines (because you can’t pick just one):

Kate: Lizzie McGuire, you are an outfit repeater!

Miss Ungermeyer: David Gordan. I think that’s Italian for ‘sneaky little brown noser with a hidden agenda’.

Miss Ungermeyer: Mr. Craft, you are in the most beautiful city in the world, is this having any effect on you?

Ethan: Yeah the cobble stones are like totally thrashing on my wheels.

Isabella: Sing to me, Paolo!

MONTE CARLO

(SELENA GOMEZ, 2011)

After years of saving from her shitty waitress job, Grace, a down-on-her-luck Texan girl fresh out of high school, finally gets to go to Paris with David Cassidy’s daughter her coworker Emma. Instead of the vacation of her dreams, she gets a shitty tour bus version of the city with Blair Waldorf as her salty stepsister, Meg, tagging along. It doesn’t take long for the girls to have a falling out and find themselves in a swanky hotel lobby to take shelter from the rainstorm that is kind of a metaphor for their disaster of a trip. Their luck changes when Grace is mistaken for a wealthy British heiress, and with some encouragement from Emma takes her place and fills in for her duties, which leads the three girls to Monaco. Grace falls for Theo, a local rich boy with other character qualities that don’t seem notable to me at the moment; Meg falls for an adventurous Aussie, and Emma just really wants to get home to her long term boyfriend Owen and install some dimmer lights. Of course the fiasco unfolds when Cordelia returns unexpectedly, and some drama goes down with an expensive piece of jewelry going missing (a telltale sign of an unoriginal plot). But not to worry because just like every chick flick out there, everyone gets a happy ending. 

Pros: The excellent casting of romantic interests (Read: Corey Monteith, Luke Bracey, Pierre Boulanger). Who Says. Monte Carlo- it actually looks really effing bomb. Why is Monaco so underrated?! I might just be too poor to even have it on my radar as a travel destination.

Seriously. God bless this casting director.

Cons: Selena Gomez’s acting. Selena Gomez’s fake British accent. The fact that I will never be mistaken for an heiress and have a whirlwind romance with a foreign wealthy man.

Most memorable lines:

Grace: I finally meet a guy who likes me for me. And I’m not even me.

THE PRINCESS SWITCH

(VANESSA HUDGENS, 2018)

So here we are in present day. Let me just start by saying, there isn’t even a princess in this movie. Lady Margaret is a duchess. It’s called royal decorum honey, look it up. Stacy, a baker from Chicago, is somehow invited to this very prestigious international baking competition in Genovia Aldovia Belgravia (is anyone else noticing that these fake European countries all kind of sound like font families?), and ditches her bakery during what I assume would be her busiest time of the year to hop across the world with her business partner/ best friend and his daughter. There she runs into Lady Margaret, who mysteriously looks exactly like her and proposes they swap places so she can get away from the world of schedules. Stacy agrees, and falls for Margaret’s fiance of an arranged marriage/ loveless engagement, Prince Edward of Belgravia. Meanwhile Margaret falls for Stacy’s DILF friend Kevin. They manage to swap back before Stacy’s competition (which she wins despite her competitor cutting the cord to her Kitchen Aid, which she only notices after the majority of the cake has been baked, which like, b*tch, how were you mixing the batter before?), only for the Prince and Margaret to have to present the awards to the winners (because like, I’m sure that’s how William and Kate fill their schedule). Though Margaret had revealed their secret to Edward before the event, the four go backstage to give Kevin the downlow. Stacy is alarmingly okay with Edward (sort of) proposing to her, and Kevin is alarmingly okay with this despite having JUST caught feelings for who he thought was his best friend? Flash forward to a year later, and Edward and Stacy have married, and it is implied Kevin and Margaret are next? What the hell happened to their award winning bakery?

Pros: Gunner from Nashville. Kevin’s abs.

Cons: The haircut. The Jackie O blazer and pencil skirt ensembles. Another ill fated horse riding trip. The mysterious old guy who kept showing up but whose presence/ significance was never really explained?

Seriously, why is everyone dressed straight outta 1952?

Most memorable line: 

Stacy/Margaret: In fact I took a nap on it. Slept like a log.

Edward: A log?

Stacy/ Margaret: Yes, dear, a royal log. It’s an expression we have in Montenaro.

Over the passage of time, the same-actress-two-characters/ swapping identities plotline has served us some of our most heartwarming and cheesy memories of film. I honestly don’t know if there really is a way to rank which is best, because they are all terrible in their own right. What matters most is that this tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme seems to keep going strong 20 years later, so we can expect another version of this more-or-less same story to make us gag/dazzle us in the coming years.

[hellosaltysaladcollectionstuff]

Bong Joon-ho's Parasite is virtually certain to win the Oscar for Best International Film, and it is not out of the running for Best Picture or Best Director, either. It unanimously won Palme d'Or at the 2019 Cannes Film Festival, and critics has lauded it as the greatest film of an exceptionally strong year, and perhaps even one of the best of the decade. It has brought belated, much-deserved attention to South Korean Cinema. By any measure, it has been a success that has likely exceeded the wildest dreams of anyone associated with it. What, then, should be made of the existence of a black & white version set for a theatrical release this year?

The monochrome cut received its international premiere at the 2020 International Film Festival Rotterdam, and perhaps the most important and immediately noticeable thing about it is that it works, at least for the most part. Exteriors and shots looking out the basement windows of the Kim family suffer slightly; the same lack of shadows that look so great in color photography feel emptier than they ought when converted, and occasionally a fuller palette is essential for depth perception, meaning deep space shots and alleyways look a bit muddled, but much of Parasite makes use of hard-edge lighting that converts well to black & white, and there can be little doubt Bong made a point of color correcting every shot for maximum effectiveness.

And it is effective. Color aside, re-watching Parasite at IFFR was a pleasure that reinforced the excellence of the film's script, which, from the beginning, lays out all the character information for the viewer in ways that can only be appreciated on a second pass and manages to foreshadow each development with nary a heavy hand. The black and white component, meanwhile, was realized even before the Cannes premiere, so it isn't fair to call it a cash-in devoid of artistic consideration. Bong himself has called out the differences. He has been quoted saying, "I watched the black & white version twice now, and at times the film felt more like a fable and gave me the strange sense that I was watching a story from old times" and that this version is "more realistic and sharp."

Both of Bong's points are aligned with expectations. The cinematic history of B&W has given it two primary connotations. Depending on its use, it can play up feelings of nostalgia and oldness or of grit and realism. When color cinematography was first invented, its expense made it rare, and it was usually reserved for big-budget fantasies and epics—think The Wizard of Oz or Gone with the Wind—while noirs and drama stuck primarily with monochrome stock. With the growing ubiquity of the black & white television in the home during the 1950s, epics and sword-and-sandal films became more common, and color (and CinemaScope) became a way of differentiating cinema from television, eventually becoming the standard. Black & White, in turn, became a way of imaging a bygone era, though other artistic deployments by independent and arthouse directors kept the gritty connotations alive, so much so that Michael Haneke decided to shoot The White Ribbon in color but release it in black & white (perhaps more directors seeking a Palme d'Or should consider straddling the line between the two forms).

History and cliché hold true with the B&W Parasite. The film is much grimmer with the color drained away; the audience seemed reluctant to laugh at the same moments that threatened to bring the house down the first time around, as if the new sheen demanded something different from the viewer. The vibrant colors and sunlight coming in from the windows give the Park family mansion an idealistic, almost fairy-tale like quality. To witness, then, a saturated splotch of red on a "bloodied" napkin be so incriminating takes that quality to the point of absurdity. The bright colors of the peaches that the housekeeper reacts so violently to, as well as Da-hye's fondness for the festively colored fruit, lends a dark humor in the color original that is missing in monochrome, where peach fuzz becomes an almost unidentifiable poison. Everything, as Mrs. Park might say, is "deadly serious."

After watching Parasite for the first time, the bright sunshine in the yard of the Park home as Ki-woo reads his letter to his father is vivid and memorable, almost overshadowing the cut back to reality that follows it. The same sequence in black & white cannot help but underscore the falseness and the uselessness of Ki-woo's dreams; suddenly the hints throughout the film—that he will go to university, that he's qualified as a tutor, that he himself has demonstrated the "vigor" needed to succeed on exams—are not hints of hope but notes of tragic irony. The unraveling that begins when the Park family heads out on their camping trip is similarly stark, playing less like a rupture or break from what came before and more like a moment of self-sabotage or fatalistic inevitability for which the Kim family must be banished once more to the basement.

The "oldness" Bong speaks of is less evident in a film that gives prominent screen time to cell phones and discussions of wi-fi, but if it feels like a fable, it could be because the film's class war overtones reverberate through the past to the present day around the globe. "When you put our four salaries together, the amount of cash flowing from their family to ours is immense," Mr. Kim gleefully observes to the delight of the class warriors in the audience, a bit of redistribution that is unjust only insofar as it does not go far enough. It hardly differs from the justifications offered by characters such as Bonnie & Clyde, Jesse James, and Robin Hood in countless earlier films. The setting may be new, but to call this "a story from old times" requires only historical awareness and a little imagination.

Yet, Parasite is not unique in its post-release black & white treatment. Both Logan and Mad Max: Fury Road included such cuts on their home video releases, and going further back, Frank Darabont's The Mist and Bong's own film Mother received similar treatment. On some occasions, one might suspect these films have something to prove: they are not "merely" entertainment or blockbusters, but carefully made films with artistic merits, where the perceived seriousness and artistic merit of a black & white presentation is a way of convincing skeptics and reassuring insecure fans.

Taken alongside another recent trend, however, the re-edited theatrical re-release / expansion (such as the one that propelled Avengers: Endgame past Avatar for the top-spot on the unadjusted box-office gross chart, or the ones that gave a modest bump to Midsommar and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood), it's hard not to see an industry that is desperately clinging to relevance doing whatever it can to pad its profits and prove that they do, in fact, still make them like they used to, glorious black & white and all. How ironic that as the renewed threat to make the movies obsolete ramp up in a never-ending (but perhaps revitalized) "Golden Age" of Television, the movies turn back to black & white, not only for art-house fare like Roma and The Lighthouse, but also for hits like Parasite, Mad Max, and Logan.

Follow Forrest Cardamenis on Twitter - @FCardamenis

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[drtanstravels]

*Just a quick note, there was a problem when I saved this post while I was editing it, thus why some of the links might not work and the layout looks a bit odd, beginning at the part about visiting the hacienda that grows roses. I’ve tried, but I just can’t seem to fix it. 

Chinese New Year is over for another year and this is a time that Anna and her friends, Pat and Roshini, like to get away for a little bit. If it is a trip to a resort island in Indonesia or Thailand for example, I will usually give it a miss and let them have a girls’ weekend away. However, if it is a unique once-in-a-lifetime location or event, such as our trip at around the same time last year to Denmark and Sweden in order to eat at Magnus Nilsson’s restaurant, Fäviken, then I’m just going to have to tag along.

Obviously, this most recent trip fits into the latter category, otherwise you would just be sitting there, staring at a blank webpage with a few ads on it. On this particular occasion we would be traveling to Ecuador for a trip that would take place in three parts:

A four-night train trip from Quito, high up in the Andes, down to the city of Durán in the Guayaquil area, located on the coast.

Doing a three-night cruise through the Galápagos Islands.

Spend three nights in Amsterdam, Netherlands en route back to Singapore.

Quite often I get a song stuck in my head when we are traveling so it seemed pretty apt that we were going to be spending the following two weeks in South America and I had randomly heard this song somewhere, installed the earworm and just couldn’t stop singing it for the entirety of our trip (there is an English version, but the Spanish one is more worth it just for the video alone):

That suit is giving ol’ Georgie a rather severe testicle separation in that clip! If you’re like us and don’t speak Spanish, here is the chorus in English:

Una paloma blanca I’m just a bird in the sky Una paloma blanca Over the mountain I fly No one can take my freedom away

“No one can take my freedom away,” yet ironically, that singer would probably have a reasonably difficult time legally staying in the United States at the moment. Anyway, this post is focussing on the first part of our holiday, the train journey, so a little bit of information about that particular leg of the trip from the e-mail we received from Tren Ecuador about our little rail adventure, the “Train of Wonders:”

Our journey begins in the northern Andes of Ecuador, in the valley of Otavalo, as we wind our way through traditional villages to meet craftspeople and enjoy a visit to a rose plantation. Venturing south from Quito, we travel through the famous “Avenue of the Volcanoes,” passing such giants as Cotopaxi and Chimborazo – the closest point on the planet to the sun. After a visit to the truly authentic Andean market of Guamote, we make our way to warmer climes, zig-zagging down the mythical “Devil’s Nose”. After descending the colossal Andes we enter a tropical forest world, then ride through plantations of sugar-cane, rice and cacao, to end our trip in the peaceful plains of the coastal region.

That’s quite a trek and if you’re looking at that map and wondering ‘MSNM’ refers to, it means metres above sea-level. We were all clearly most excited about the Galápagos Islands leg of our holiday (well, maybe except for Pat, but I’ll get to that in the sequel to this post), but this train ride was going to be some fun too. Besides, the night we were to first land in Quito was our seventh wedding anniversary.

Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves though, getting there is always part of the story and this occasion would be no exception.

Monday, February 12, 2018 Roshini and Pat had traveled to Quito several days before us, however, we were unable to leave until just a few minutes before midnight on Sunday because Anna was returning from a conference in Hong Kong on Sunday morning. Yup, she had already sat in a plane for four hours that day before this trip had even kicked off. Our route was supposed to be a thirteen-hour Business Class flight to Amsterdam, Netherlands, a three-hour layover in the airport, and then another 13-hour Economy flight to Quito, Ecuador. Quito is 13 hours behind Singapore so we were due to land in Ecuador at around 4:00pm local time, giving us plenty of time to get a nice anniversary dinner before catching a quiet night in preparation for the early start we had coming up the following morning. Of course, it doesn’t always work that smoothly. There were no hassles with the Singapore to Amsterdam flight, I managed to sleep for a substantial portion of it and then watched most of season nine of Curb your Enthusiasm when I woke. There weren’t any particular holdups in the Amsterdam airport either, besides not being allowed in the airport lounge due to overcrowding, despite having the appropriate pass. When it was finally time, we made our way down to the gate to board our KLM flight bound for Quito, a process which also went smoothly, but that’s where any semblance of order ended. Once we were aboard we were stuck on the tarmac as, due to the temperature in Amsterdam at the time, our plane required de-icing. Eventually, we were told that the process would be available to us in 30 minutes, an announcement after which I promptly fell asleep, only to wake again, still ground-bound with light snow sprinkling down. After being stuck on the tarmac for two hours, we finally departed. Once in the air it became almost impossible to conceive that KLM is the national airline of the Netherlands for several reasons. First of all, the flight attendants were far too large for their job. I’d previously heard rumours of how Singapore Airlines stewardesses receive only one tailored uniform and are forbidden to gain weight, a theory that is somewhat confirmed by some of the statements I’ve hand-picked from this article published in Singapore’s national newspaper, The Straits Times, and although it seems a little extreme, it is feasible to understand why:

National carrier Singapore Airlines expects its flight attendants to have a body mass index (BMI) within a certain range, and those who exceed it will be given time on the ground to get back in shape, it said.

The airline, which focuses on BMI rather than weight, said such crew members will be “given time on (the) ground to focus on their health and to receive guidance on healthy weight management”. This ensures they are able to meet the physical demands of their duties, it added.

Observers felt it was acceptable for airlines to have requirements for flight attendants to have a certain physique, in order to be able to carry out their duties.

Mr David Leong, managing director of PeopleWorldwide Consulting, said: “The aisle of the plane is constrained, and any large-bodied person will have a manoeuvrability issue along the aisle.”

That final quote from David Leong is a salient one. While some may consider suspending an employee for being overweight a tad discriminatory, it is worth noting that your ability to fit inside your workplace is one of the most important tasks you have, which I guess is why I never became a fighter pilot. Well, my size, plus the fact that I’m also kind of a pacifist who has no idea how to fly. For KLM flight attendants on the other hand, being able to walk down the aisle of the plane wasn’t a huge priority. While it’s generally accepted that the Dutch are the world’s tallest nationality, a flight attendant’s body mass index doesn’t really cut it in this case as, despite being in a healthy weight-range, they are still physically too large to do their job. On our flight to Quito there were two female flight attendants who would bump me with their thighs every time they walked past my seat without a care to give, which was approximately every 15 minutes, making it impossible to sleep. Then there was the male flight attendant whose hips were so wide that he had to to turn sideways to walk down the aisle, resulting in me getting a face-full of Dutch man-ass every time he passed. Admittedly, the crew were really nice, but their constant bumps, nudges and sideswipes got a bit much extremely quickly and remember, this was to be our second 13-hour flight of the day. Add to this the terrible food – meatballs that make the ones available at Ikea seem like the epitome of fine dining, followed by a stale microwaved pizza roll, of which Anna’s was dropped on the floor while being served to her – as well as the terrible, yet random, entertainment choices and the increasingly awful smell coming from the toilets and I was begging to get off this plane when we weren’t even half-way through.

We eventually landed at Mariscal Sucre International Airport after a grand total of 31 hours in transit, took a ride with a psychotic cab driver with a death wish for 45 minutes to the Swissotel in the Floresta area of Quito, checked in and then went for our Anniversary dinner at about 8:30pm. We found a place around the corner called Lo Nuestro for some traditional local cuisine, feasting on prawns, beef tripe stew, and black clam ceviche among other dishes, but it couldn’t be a big night though because of our early start the next morning. Besides, thanks to timezones, it had already been our anniversary for about a day-and-a-half. A few scenes from the first full day of what would become an epic trip:

A woman munching down on a chili in Amsterdam Airport Schiphol

Where we would have our anniversary dinner

Eating some great local dishes

Yup, time for bed.

Tuesday, February 13, 2018 Tuesday was to be the beginning of out trek through the Andes, but despite taking all of the necessary precautions, I still had a mild seizure in my sleep so the day is a bit of a blur. The plan was to meet our guides for the next four days, Marcelo and Alex, as well as our sidekicks on this tour in the foyer of the hotel at 7:00am and spend most of the morning on a bus, then onto a train with a few stops along the way. Getting up wasn’t particularly difficult due to jet-lag so we went and had breakfast in the hotel restaurant before meeting up with our companions on this first four-day leg of our fortnight away. Once we saw who we were traveling with, one thing became immediately clear; we would be the only people on this trip under the age of 60! This train journey has been referred to as the world’s “most challenging” railroad and our counterparts on this trip were mostly train enthusiasts and their wives, hailing mainly from Canada and the UK, as well as a couple from San Antonio, Texas. Anna, Pat, Roshini, and myself, however, were here because it just seemed like a cool thing to do and a great opportunity to cut ourselves off from the rest of the world for a bit and relax.

The first part of our bus ride was a two-hour trip north that took us to the valley of Otavalo in the Imbabura Province, the main attraction being the market that sells products made by the local people:

The indigenous Otavalo people are famous for weaving textiles, usually made of wool, which are sold at the famous Saturday market. Although the largest market is on Saturday, there is a very wide range of wares available throughout the week in the Plaza de los Ponchos, and the many local shops. The shops sell textiles such as handmade blankets, tablecloths, and much more.

During the market’s peak, almost one third of the town becomes full of stalls selling textiles, tagua nut jewelry, musical instruments, dream catchers, leather goods, fake shrunken heads, indigenous costumes, hand-painted platters and trays, purses, clothing, spices, raw foods and spools of wool. As the city has become more of a tourist attraction, many of the goods sold in the markets are mass-produced in nearby factories and sold in the market by middle-men.

We spent a substantial amount of time walking around the market and Anna is the master negotiator so she haggled her way to some bargains for us. Obviously, the market wasn’t quite as bustling on a Tuesday as to what you’d expect it to be on a Saturday, but there was still plenty of great stuff available, including the two pipes I ended up purchasing, as well as the scarf that Anna bought. I had also forgotten how small a lot of South Americans are; I’ve lived in Asia for over a decade now and, although a major stereotype about Asians is that they are short, the average native South American is tiny, as you will see, so several locals felt the urge to come and have photos taken with me in the market. Anyway, a bit of what we saw:

Looking out of one window of our hotel room…

…and the other

Anna, Pat, and Roshini hunting for bargains

A nearby mountain behind a random bus (not ours)

I bought two of the pipes on the right

Anna in front of a stall

A wine bottle inside a hoof

Before long it was time to continue our journey, this time to the San Roque Train station where we were greeted by a traditional Ecuadorian band. We boarded our train and were given lunch as we made our way down to the small town of Atuntaqui, a place I just found out is the sister city of Sunchon in North Korea! The entire area is renowned for its textiles, especially the textile market, so we all stopped off at the Museo Fabrica Imbabura [translated from Spanish]:

MUSEUM “IMBABURA TEXTILE FACTORY”: The English and German machinery that dates back to the last century (1900-1925) distributed throughout the different sections: fulling, carding, spinning, weaving, dyeing, among others, that in visit to them is impossible not to imagine going back to that time and feel a deep admiration for our ancestors, because only to understand how to raise that machinery from the port, 400 km away between coast and mountain range, under the transport conditions of that time, it must have been a epic.

We were taken on a tour of what was once the factory floor, the now-retired blue-collar Canadian men feeling the need to knock and bang on every surface to make sure it met their high structural standards. Sure, what we were told about everyday life working in the factory and looking at all of the vintage looms and machinery was interesting enough, but I wish they had’ve focussed more on these types of facts [translated from Spanish]:

The Imbabura Textile Factory operated from 1924 to 1965, the year in which it was closed after the death of one of its administrators, who was attacked by a mob of workers who claimed for their rights after they were subjected to work under a system of exploitation. There were forged several trade unionists who defended the highest rights of the working class.

That’s right, the new owner of the factory was dragged out into the street and stomped to death by the workers! We were told this by Marcelo when he was giving us the history of the factory, however, this stop off would’ve been a lot more interesting if these type of details were the focal point, as opposed to just a tidbit of information, but our Ecuadorian tour was only getting started. It was also strange, some might say perhaps even a little ironic, that inside the museum there was a picture of Fidel Castro mounted next to a photograph of John F. Kennedy. Take a look for yourself:

Me posing in front of the band at the train station

The band doing their thing

A statue out the front of the museum

A guy on an old loom doing his thing

The end result is really nice!

The toilets they used in the factory back in the day. Probably one of the many reason’s the employees revolted.

Why was this hanging next to…

this?

Soon we were back on the train and on to probably the highlight of the train tour for me. We ended up in the village of San Antonio de Ibarra, just south of the city of Ibarra. Ecuador lays on the edge of a tectonic plate, making it prone to earthquakes and volcanoes, a theme you will notice throughout our tour. A large earthquake destroyed most of Ibarra on August 16, 1868 and the city was re-settled in 1872 meaning that the public buildings and churches needed to be rebuilt. It was most likely for this reason that a lot of the religious iconography in Ecuador is hand-carved out of wood, as opposed to stone or marble, but it is almost impossible to tell the difference. In fact, the work is so good that the Pope even owns a piece:

San Antonio is famous for its wood artisans. For this is called also the Capital of wood artisans. Pope Francis, during his July 2015 visit to Ecuador, received a wood sculpture made by Jorge Villalba, born in San Antonio, as a gift.

There are dozens of these workshops throughout the town, but unfortunately, the website for the specific workshop and showroom we visited isn’t working at the moment so it is difficult to get any exact details. We were taken on a tour of the workshop that showed the many stages of making these masterpieces out of cedar. It all begins exactly as you’d expect, with a person roughly hacking away at a block with a hammer and chisel, then smoothed out with a rasp, then a file, and finally sandpaper. The arms and hands of each piece are carved separately due to the difficulty and detail involved in creating the hands, as anyone who has even tried to draw an anatomically correct hand would be aware, and attached later. The pieces are then painted and gold leaf is added before the final step in the larger pieces, the creation of the eyes. The eyes are made from the white glass of old fluorescent light tubes, moulded into shape and the pupils painted on the reverse side. The finished product is simply stunning:

Entering the workshop

For how time-consuming this must be, they churn out a lot of them

Doing work

Work in progress

An arm

A few hands

a few more pieces on the go

Almost done

Don’t worry, you’ll read about this one soon

Shroud of Turin

A finished product, san hands

The crucifixion

Several other finished pieces

We were handed a finished piece, this time a bust, to pass around and these look so much like statues carved from stone that one woman in our tour remarked, “they’re light, aren’t they?”, completely forgetting she was holding a chunk of painted wood. One of the more redneck Canadians in our group wrongly thought it would be amusing to ask if the three hooded characters (pictured, above) were of the Ku Klux Klan, a question which was met with an uncomfortable silence, then a “no,” followed by which religious figures they actually were. There’s one in every group.

After the wood-carving workshop we had a look around a train station before jumping back on the bus again and were taken to a hacienda in Cayambe that is one of the largest cultivators and exporters of roses. ‘Hacienda’ is a term you’ll be seeing a lot in this post so I guess it is best to clarify the definition first:

hacienda (n.) [hah-see-en-duh; Spanish ah-syen-dah]

A large landed estate, especially one used for farming or ranching.

The main house on such an estate.

A stock raising, mining, or manufacturing establishment in the country.

The hacienda on this particular occasion was the Hacienda la Compania, the house of which was a giant mansion from the early 19th century. We were fed some great local food and taken on a tour of the facilities, mainly a giant greenhouse where the roses are grown, but, being the day before Valentine’s Day, they were extremely busy and we couldn’t help but feel like we were in the way. Still, a quick glimpse:

Outside a church near the hacienda

Some roses inside the hacienda

And more

Anna with some roses

Roshini and Anna chowing down

Still more roses

The told us they purposely dye these ugly roses for the Chinese market

The roses never end!

At least they name them after decent bands

It had been a pretty packed day so we boarded the bus again and headed back to Quito. There were two options for accommodation on this tour, Standard or Gold class, and the four of us, as well as Jim and Charlotte, the couple from San Antonio, Texas forked out a little extra for Gold class throughout the tour. That meant on this occasion we would be spending the night at the Plaza Grande Hotel, which is described on the Tren Ecuador website as:

In the heart of Quito UNESCO World Heritage old quarter and with five centuries of history, Hotel Plaza Grande stands on the corner from the Presidential palace and is built on the lot that was originally granted to Francisco Pizarro, Governor of Peru. The original building, the first colonial house built in the newly founded city of Quito, suffered multiple renovations during its long history, being home to different wealthy families.

In the early XXth century it housed the first luxury hotel in the city. After a careful restoration it re opened its doors in 2007 offering 15 luxury suites with breathtaking views of the city’s historical quarter, a renowned restaurant, a spectacular terrace and a well-stocked cellar.

The Hotel Grande Plaza definitely didn’t disappoint and due to a combination of jet-lag and such a busy day, that extra comfort was definitely a welcome relief. We were in bed quite early, it was just a shame that we’d only be spending one night here:

Arriving back in Quito

Looking one way down the street out the front of the hotel…

…and the other

Just part of our room

Someone seems pleased

Part of the view from our balcony

looking the other way

Wednesday, February 14, 2018 It was another 7:00am start, however, getting up on time wasn’t an issue due to the joy that is jet-lag. Falling asleep the previous night wasn’t difficult for either of us, we were both exhausted, it was remaining asleep that was the problem. Anyway, we got up, had breakfast, took the bus to Quito’s Chimbacalle station, looking around the area a bit before boarding the train. We were welcomed aboard with a glass of champagne each and were briefed on what was going to happen over the course of the day, but the champagne wasn’t a particularly good option for all of us. Pat had decided not to drink so Anna had hers as well, a move she would later regret. Anna and myself had been in the Andes before when we did a trek through the mountains and then visited Machu Pichu in Peru in 2016 and Anna suffered quite badly from altitude sickness on that trip, something that didn’t really affect me for some reason. On that occasion we reached altitudes of almost 4,500 metres (14,700 feet) above sea level and although Quito isn’t quite that high, at an elevation of 2,850 metres (9,350 feet) above sea level it is still up there and is the second-highest capital city in the world, falling behind only La Paz in Bolivia. To put that in perspective, Denver, Colorado is known as “The Mile High City” and sporting teams playing there claim that the elevation impacts their performance, particularly resulting in breathing difficulties and lightheadedness. Denver is only 1,609 metres (5,280 feet) above sea level, or 56% of the altitude at which we were. After about an hour on the train, Anna began to feel sick, Pat is borderline narcoleptic, and Roshini was still jet-lagged too so the three of them all just nodded off as we made our way through the Avenue of Volcanoes until it was time for our next stop. A few of the sights from that morning:

A church near the train station

A statue nearby

Anna, myself, Pat, and Roshini in the kids’ carriage

Leaving Quito

…past a cornfield…

Making our way through the mountains…

…and into a valley

Coca tea made her feel better

Our train was equipped with a fully stocked bar, but I doubt we would be making much use of that until we were out of the mountains. Instead, especially for Anna, it would be coca tea, which is supposed to help relieve the symptoms of altitude sickness. Getting out and walking helps a little too so she’d be fine soon. Our next stop was an Andean hacienda and this one would be interesting for one particular reason — Pat never really grew up with pets so she has a bit of a phobia of animals. Essentially all animals, and this extremely rural hacienda was a giant farm so things could get quite entertaining very quickly. The hacienda was mainly used for raising llamas, but was also the home for Chagras, or Ecuadorian cowboys. These guys were pretty skilled and because it was Valentine’s Day, the first display they put on for us was to ride up and attempt to put a stick through rings which were suspended from a horizontal rope hanging overhead and then give them to the women in the group:

Roshini was one of the lucky ladies to be gifted a ring, but unfortunately she was also required to return it, a policy any recipient of those horrendous multi-cloured roses probably wishes was in place. Next up was several of the chagras roping a calf, something that must be a lot more difficult than it looks!:

We watched some other activities such as bullfighting and were then taken on a tour of the hacienda and this was definitely no new property. The walls were all made of a combination of compressed mud and straw, yet they were actually quite structurally sound, even the now-retired blue-collar Canadians agreed, and had stood the test of time, still standing perfectly today. Anna and Roshini decided to hang out with the llamas for a bit and, although she had handled the presence of animals well, Pat declined the offer to join them:

Chagras upon arrival

Let the show begin

Just thinking about llama stuff

I have wracked my brain and cannot imagine what he could be singing about besides llamas

A ring for Rosh

A few rope tricks

A group of llama farmers

Bullfighting

The hacienda from the outside

Roshini, Anna, and some llamas. No Pat, though.

Llama-skin chaps on the banister

I’m glad I don’t have to shower here

The foundation of the building

Soon we were back on the train and moving again, which meant we were sleeping again, myself included this time, prompting one of the Canadians to ask if we had had a big one the night before, but it didn’t last long. We had to stop briefly in a town while a mechanical problem on the train was fixed, possibly the shredder that mulched anything that went into the toilet once it was flushed, and had seen some people spraying each other with white foam and water in the street. Why? Because it was the end of Carnival in Ecuador and we were also given a taste of it once we were back aboard the train. But what is Carnival?

Carnival is a Catholic holiday that has blended with Andean traditions to become a huge festival. The idea is to express as much craziness as possible before the reflective period of Lent, called Cuaresma in Ecuador. Most Andean communities celebrate Carnival in a small way, with neighborhood parties and lots of troublemaking.Most of the rabble-rousing is good fun and harmless. Be prepared for lots of espuma orcarioca, party foam that will fly at the least expected moments. A more affordable option is water and many people will arm themselves with water guns or toss buckets full of water from rooftops, open windows, and doorways at passersby. The worst is the colored flour. Brightly tinted bread flour is tossed into hair and onto clothing. If you are already wet with party foam or water, the flour becomes immediate sludge, almost impossible to remove.

Drinking is just a part of Carnival. In fact, many parade participants will start drinking before the parade even begins. During the parade, it is not uncommon to find chicha de jora, a fermented drink made from corn, shared along the route. One of the more famous towns to celebrate Carnaval is Guaranda, home to the infamous white liquor called Pajaro Azul, or Blue Bird. It should come as no surprise that this town is also known for the wildest celebrations.

We were also told it was a time when labourers would get drunk, dance, don masks and anonymously prank their bosses, which is what some of the employees aboard the train did. The music started, people in devil masks handed out shots of blue bird (which the girls obviously refused), and then the partying began. I had one of the women with a toy devil try to dance with me, but when she put her arm around me, one of the horns poked me where the sun doesn’t shine. Not particularly pleasant, but I don’t enjoy dancing in general, anyway:

Coming down the aisle

Your assumptions are correct, he wasn’t the partying type

The masks are pretty cool

The doll that Roshini is holding possesses the horn that poked me

Awkward

While we were on our way, our other guide, Alex, kept talking about a section of our track that was called ‘The Devil’s Ear,’ referring to it in near mythical, hushed tones, however, it really just turned out to be simply a bridge. Somewhat anticlimactic, hopefully ‘The Devil’s Nose’ the following day would be a little more impressive, but we had our doubts.

We had one more stop for the day and that was to meet the Last Ice Merchant, a 73-year-old man by the name of Baltazar Ushca who still climbs mountains to chip off glacial ice and sell it at markets for US$5.00 for 60 lb (27.2 kg). He, and many of the locals, believe that the fossilised ice has extra vitamins and minerals, as well as the fact that it takes a lot longer to melt. A little background info:

When Baltazar Ushca started climbing Chimborazo volcano as a child with his father and younger brothers to learn the trade, almost no one knew the summit of the mighty volcano is the closest point to the sun from the center of the earth, and almost no one cared. They would get a very early morning start for a 4-hour climb to the skirts of glacier-covered Mount Chimborazo. After a day of pickaxe hard work, the ice- harvesters would take their six to eight packs per person load down to Riobamba markets. In those days Chimborazo ice was very sought after for food preservation, and also for the famous hand-made ice creams.

With the advent of ice factories and a refrigerator in every kitchen, the ice business became a too dangerous, underpaid job. One by one, the ice merchants left the mountain and found other jobs, until only Baltazar was left. Nowadays, he still climbs every Thursday and Friday with his faithful mules, to carve the ice from the flanks of Taita Chimborazo.

There was a short documentary made about him a few years back which has afforded him a a newfound fame, take a look:

It seems like a prime example of not realising your job is now obsolete, kind of like if you were still the manager of a Blockbuster Video franchise, however, thanks to the documentary, he makes most of his income from tourism and only climbs twice a week now. Uscha speaks a regional dialect, so he told his story to his daughter, who then translated it into Spanish for Marcelo, our guide, who in turn told us in English. We then got to meet Uscha and try some of the handmade ice-cream and I don’t mean to be rude, but I’d be lying if I said he didn’t smell strongly of donkey shit. As for the ice-cream, it didn’t contain any dairy, just churned ice and fruit and it had a bit of a dirt flavour as well, however, he you have to respect a guy who still works that hard at that age in job that is now redundant. You could tell that his daughter was getting a bit tired of this routine though:

Approaching our next stop

Some locals who came out to sing for us

Yes, he is standing on the same level floor as I am

The mountain he climbs for ice

Making the ice-cream, ironically in front of a freezer

Anna and yours truly with our ice-creams. We were offered seconds, but one was enough

Soon it was time to make the last leg of our trip for the day. That night we stayed in another hacienda and ate meat and seafood cooked on a hot stone while a traditional local band played. Good times.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Another early start, this time about 6:30am. We took a stroll around our hacienda after breakfast and then boarded our train — this time led by a coal-powered steam engine known as the Black Monster– and got moving again. Today wasn’t going to be quite as crazy as previous days, we made our way through the heart of the Andes, passing colourful quinoa fields and enormous cemeteries on our way to making our first stop in the district of Colta, where Spanish conquerors made their first settlement in Ecuador, to switch over to a diesel locomotive. While we were stopped we had a look around another local market that had roasted guinea pigs and incredible looking roast pork available. I was tempted, but it was still early and our lunch was being provided at another market so I just settled for buying a traditional Ecuadorian woollen mask and then we had a look at the Iglesia de Balbanera [translated from Spanish]:

It is the main attraction of Colta, the first church built on Ecuadorian soil, so its beauty is historic. Built by the Spaniards, its style of construction is colonial, its stone façade is the only witness of its history, you can get a fantastic view of the snow-capped Chimborazo.

Apparently, and due to a plaque that stands out in Balbanera, it is believed that this temple is the oldest in the country. Although its date of creation is not known with certainty, it is presumed that it was inaugurated on August 15, 1534.

The Europeans chose this plain to build the first Catholic church of the Royal Audience of Quito, dedicated to the adoration of the Virgin Mary as a souvenir to the Abbey of the Virgin of Valvanera, in the province of Logroño of the Iberian Peninsula.

However, such construction was not the one that currently stands on the left side of the road to Riobamba, but a humble hut of adobe and stone covered with straw and torn down by the cruel earthquake of February 4, 1797, which destroyed much of Riobamba and other populations along the inter-Andean alley.

But that place was already considered “sacred”, so the villagers rebuilt the temple with beautiful architecture and delicate simplicity.

That’s right, the original church was destroyed by an earthquake over 200 years ago, but the locals decided to just put the pieces back together how they best fit in order to rebuild the church! Furthermore, according to our guides, this process has occurred more than once, hence the jumbled and non-linear look of the building’s architecture. As for the interior, it was fully equipped with the wooden sculptures we saw being crafted days earlier:

Just a portion of the enormous cemetary

Guine pigs roasting over an open fire

Damn, that pork looks tasty

The market from a distance

My new mask

Iglesia de Balbanera

The left side of the church’s entrance…

…and the right

Next we were on to one of the more fascinating stops on our tour, the Guamote market, described in our guide for the train tour as “one of the last truly indigenous markets in the Andes.” That description barely even cuts the mustard, but this one should give you a better idea:

 The canton of Guamote is the most traditional region in Ecuador. 95% of the population is Indigenous (while in the whole of Ecuador it is only 25%). Guamote itself has about 5,000 inhabitants, but in the mountains surrounding Guamote another 40,000 people live in small communities.

The greatest asset of Guamote is the weekly indigenous market, one of the biggest and most traditional markets in South America. Every Thursday the people from the communities come to Guamote to sell their fruit, sheep, pigs, guinea pigs, cows, hats, clothing,…

Far away from all tourist traps, this is a market by and for indigenous people, one of the most authentic things you can see in Ecuador, and more than that, something you can really experience. This market is an adventure for all your senses, a chaos of smells, colors, sounds and impressions; and smiling and kind faces everywhere. This is the strength of Guamote: its people. The sincerity and friendliness of the people here is impressive. Despite of the big poverty that still exists here, people are very grateful and optimistic.

Upon arrival, we were told by our guide, Alex, that Guamote was pretty much a ghost town any other day of the week, not a whole lot of people live in the town itself, but is bustling on Thursdays when the market is on. It was almost impossible to believe when we saw just how busy the place was, but the crowd was also probably a little larger due to Carnival and the parade being held at the market, as well as the accompanying rodeo in a makeshift stadium built just out of town. As we entered we saw people walking pigs and sheep on leashes and we were given about half-an-hour to wander around through the stalls selling handicrafts, clothing, and food, as well as the parade, before it we were taken into a special building for lunch. Before we left for Ecuador, I had watched an episode of Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations based in this country and he kept saying how good the beef tripe stew was, hence why I had it the night we arrived. It was great, but that was at a restaurant though, the one at the market seemed more “authentic” and I was tempted to try it, however, I do have somewhat of a history of getting food poisoning quite easily and our meals were already provided so I decided to give it a miss. Some people working at the market tend to get a bit offended if you take photos and don’t buy anything, but I managed to get some of those that didn’t seem to mind, as well as the parade:

Just walking my sheep

That looks like a massive pig, but people here are really small

Grillin’ some chicken feet

This little piggy went to market (shit joke, I know)

I guess we’re taking the bus from here

Anna and some fruit

Me with some different fruit

The stew I was referring to

People just milling around

A rather obedient sheep

The parade getting under way

Some dancers

More dancers

This guy went a little too hard, too fast, it was barely noon when I snuck this photo. Also, I’m fairly certain the Oakland Raiders aren’t in the NBA

The makeshift rodeo stadium as seen from the bus

As we were leaving on the bus for our next destination, Alex told us a rather interesting fact as to why the indigenous people of Ecuador wear hats and can be a tad on the nose, such as the Last Ice Merchant was, as well as why they wear hats; it was because Ecuadorians who worked in the haciendas were forbidden to shower, as it meant they intended to flirt so they wore hats to prevent the spread of lice, a tradition many still practice today.

The rest of our trip for the day was to be done by bus, except for our final stop, ‘The Devil’s Nose.’ I didn’t hold out much hope for The Devil’s Nose, due mainly to how utterly shite The Devil’s Ear was, but when we found out a little more information about the Nose, I became more optimistic:

History confirms the Devil’s Nose deserves its name.  Work started in 1899, with about 3,000 Jamaicans and 1,000 Puerto Ricans brought in to work on the project. The number of men that died during construction is estimated at around 2,000 making this work pretty much a deathwish.

The goal was to connect the railroad from Quito to Guayaquil and the greatest obstacle to building the railroad was a near-vertical wall of rock, known as El Nariz del Diablo (The Devil’s Nose), which connects Alausi to Sibambe (mid-way between Quito and Cuenca). The engineering solution was to carve a series of tight switchbacks out of the rock, which allowed the train to descend 500 meters by zigzagging ahead past a junction, then backing down the next section, before going forward again to get trains down the rock face.

When it says the train descends 500 metres (1,640 feet), it doesn’t mention that it does so over a distance of just 12 km (7.5 miles). Add in the fact that The Devil’s Nose is one of, if not the most difficult train journeys and ranks in the Top 10 Most Dangerous Train Routes in the World and we could be in for a fun afternoon. We arrived at Alausi train station and took a seat in the vintage boxcars and made the stressful descent deep into the Chanchan River Gorge and back up again, taking in the cloudy, yet breathtaking scenery along the way:

Arriving in Alausi

Alausi from a distance

Pretty close to the edge

The visibility is kind of low, too

Still have quite a way to go

but it is definitely beautiful here

Heading back up

Getting higher…

We went down that mountain in a 100-year-old train!

With Alex and Marcelo

The train in which we did the trek

A giant beetle we found near the station

The Devil’s Nose was supposed to be the most frightening moment of the day, however, that turned out to be the four-hour bus ride to hacienda where we would be spending the night. We had to wind our way through a very thick fog that gave very little visibility in the mountains, some heavy rain and the aftermath of both constant landslides and mini-avalanches that left the road either partially blocked or missing and forcing us to take blind turns on the wrong side of the road, but we eventually made it. Again, Anna and Pat pretty much slept through the whole thing.

Friday, February 16, 2018

It was the final day of our tour, warranting us a well-deserved sleep-in. The hacienda we were staying at on this occasion was a cocoa bean plantation so we learnt about the harvesting of the beans, as well as the chocolate making process and got to try some pretty decent chocolate, of which Anna felt a need to buy a bunch of blocks, all while peacocks walked around the grounds (right).

After lunch we were back on the train and made our final stop before we travel over to the Galápagos Islands, our hotel in the coastal city of Guayaquil. The ride there was spent hanging out and partying with our guides and the staff aboard the train and that night, the four of us grabbed dinner and had a few drinks, the girls chatting amongst themselves while I watched the Celebrity and Rising Stars games of the NBA All-Star Weekend, bringing and end to this leg of our tour.

I would recommend the Tren Ecuador tour to anyone who is heading to South America, especially our ‘Train of Wonders’ tour. The guides are fun and knowledgeable, and the rest of the people you encounter are really helpful and friendly too.

On a side not, one interesting occurrence is that over the course of our tour, people all through Ecuador, both adults and children, got really excited when they saw the train go through their town or by their home and felt the need to wave enthusiastically, getting even more excited when you wave back:

But enough of this epic rant about our train tour, on to stage two of our holiday, the Galápagos Islands!

We packed a hell of a lot into our four-day train tour of Ecuador so I hope you have your reading glasses handy. *Just a quick note, there was a problem when I saved this post while I was editing it, thus why some of the links might not work and the layout looks a bit odd, beginning at the part about visiting the hacienda that grows roses.