Really? Really!

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I know that I am posting about restaurants a bit too often lately... uhm... well, I have been eating out more often lately, maybe that's why ;)
Today I met D. for lunch and we had lunch at the same restaurant as before... well, it's not exactly the same, it's the same owner but a different branch... The menu is pretty much the same though, and, of course, there's the crayons...

Well, I can't complain. Today's food was delicious and the service was even better. The lady who waited our table was really patient and friendly... our order didn't get lost in translation, and we even got a second round of "pan de campo"(some kind of home-made bread...)!! So, yeah.. NO Pesos de Paciencia today, and a good (and well deserved) tip :)

Today's drwaing was a bit limited due to the scarcity of crayon and colours. This is what I came up with... A little duckling (patito), who was mistaken by D. with a chick (pollito). Below you can see a portion of the conversation between Patito and D.

Patito:- I'm Patito
D: - It looks like a pollito!
P: - I am NOT pollito
D: - Ah! it looks like a pollito...
P: - I don't care

I know, disrespectful little creature... today's youth is out of control!!

Duckling- NOT a chick

In my last post I promised to share the idea I had after being dissatisfied with the service at a restaurant.
So here's what I thought of, as we were paying that last time:

The waiter brought the bill and we paid. When he brought back the change, we realized we had we had not enough coins or small bills to leave a tip. So we started searching frantically for any lost coin we could have in the hidden corners of our bags... as usual, D. had more coins than I did (I am a shame when it comes to paying, I sometimes don't even have enough money to pay for my food!). But with all our effort, we couldn't reach the 10% tip that we like to leave after a meal. I found a free postcard and said, jokingly, "I could leave them this, how much do you think it's worth?"
An then it came to me... the service had been quite disappointing, and what one usually does (at least over here in Bs As) is not leave a tip when you are not happy with it. We figured we would still leave the few coins that we could gather up, but we would also use the postcard as an opportunity to leave a little comment, or "constructive criticism", as I like to think of it.

So I started drawing something along the lines of a money bill on the white side of the postcard, and I decided that it could account for the amount of money I would have left as a tip, had I been happy with the service provided.
In other words, I thought that, as a creative way to suggest improvements, I could leave a personal money bill that is worth the tip that the waiter/waitress would have won had they not forgotten to take our order, bring our order and bring the check at the end of the already seemed like an eternal dinner.

D. felt a bit embarrassed by my idea, but I decided it was a pacific way to express my disappointment and not make a public scene (which usually makes everyone uncomfortable and upset). I hope I wasn't too offensive... what do you think?

ps: I will soon post a prototype of the bill, which I baptized "Peso de Paciencia" or "Patience Dollar"... anyone is free to use the idea if they find it suitable.

There's this restaurant that I've been to with D. a couple of times. We like it because it's good food, at a very reasonable price, and because... well, because they cover the tables in paper and give you crayons to play around while you wait for the food.

Usually, the food doesn't take too long to arrive and so your table has very relaxed drawings that can easily be forgotten when the wonderful flavours of your order flood your senses (yes, the food is THAT good)... and by now you might be asking yourself, what is this restaurant, lau?? are you going to say the name?!?!?!
and the answer is... well, NO. first of all, because I am not interested in making any kind of publicity in my blog, and second, because what happened the last two times doesn't amerit a recommendation...

The previous time, we made our order some 8 minutes after sitting down, and 40 minutes later (way overdue!) the waitress comes to our table and asks "what was your order again? coz i think the kitchen forgot to prepare it"... perfect, another 20 minutes later, the place being almost empty, we got our food... fine, no hard feelings.

So we went back tonight. We went really early, there were probably 5 tables taken out of some 50 (?) total. The waitress sat us down and basically ignored us for 30 minutes. Everyone who arrived after us had ordered or was already eating when we realized we had been totally forgotten (yes, it was the crayon's fault that we didn't realize sooner!) and we started making signs to the girl, who know seemed to ignore us purposely... we finally got ahold of a guy, who was not supposed to wait our table but agreed to bring us something to drink in the meantime. After some minutes he realized that we'd sit there all night if he didn't take our order, so he finally did. After that, the food took notably longer than usual to arrive, and when we ordered the bill, they forgot to bring it to us...

So, yeah, it was sort of a crappy service. Not that I love criticizing... I like it, but I don't loooove it. Anyways, so by the time we had paid and we would leave a tip as is custom, I came up with an idea for those times when you want to supply some constructive criticism without making a big fuss over the bad service.... but I guess I'll have to wait until the next post to tell you about it.

For now, I'll let you enjoy some of the drawings that came out thanks to our food-frustration...

Sth hugging sth

Sky pleads in hasty red-
Sun takes silently with him
the colours of the day.

     The political and economical situation that, together with the intentional grass burnings and the eruption of the Chaitén, has left Argentina under a cloud of preoccupation and unrest for the last months, has not prevented the major players in the conflict from having some sense of humor...
    If you were asking yourself if penguins were aggressive animals, this post might shed some light on that doubt... As to whether a bull and a penguin could engage in a duel in the middle of a city, it seemed unrealistic to me until today, when I witnessed what is seen in the pictures below (I wonder if it could have anything to do with global warming...)
    Now back to reality (and trust me, it is equally hard for me to believe that this is our reality) these are the instruments of propaganda exploited in a conflict that has kept Argentineans with an arm around their pig and a foot on the horse.

(note: the penguin speaks on behalf of the president, the bull on behalf of the rural economic sector)

"El gobierno"

"El campo"

vs.

    While rebellion took place in the farm, world leaders (including our president) gathered together in Rome to discuss the global food crisis . The worldwide rise of food prices has rendered it impossible for the poor to afford even the basic grains like corn and rice (more on this topic here).
     In some countries, like Haiti, people have taken the streets and cried out plain and loud: "we are hungry". Everywhere in the world, hundreds of millions of people are victims of hunger, violence and disease; they die slowly, under the indifferent eye of the very nations that have now - finally- decided to unite forces and help.
    Meanwhile, false commitments are professed by our leaders, reality is masked with bogus statistics, responsability is evaded with fabricated accusations, and opposing voices are silenced by explicit aggression. Milk is spilled and food is left to rot in a country that, despite having enough resources to feed around 400 million people, fails to provide for its own, and is undoubtedly too incapable of solving its own problems to even dare think about giving a hand of relief to countries in a worse situation...

_______

   At first, and taking advantage of the beautiful mascots depicted above, I wanted to write a fable to convey how ridiculous and illogical the recent actions of our government seem to me, but then I figured that someone else - a brilliant author from a different (?) time - had spoken about matters like this with a wit that is hard to match. I decided to quote some parts of one of his books, so here it goes:

Napoleon was well aware of the bad results that might follow if the real facts of the food situation were known, and he decided to make use of Mr. Whymper to spread a contrary impression. Hitherto the animals had had little or no contact with Whymper on his weekly visits: now, however, a few selected animals, mostly sheep, were instructed to remark casually in his hearing that rations had been increased. In addition, Napoleon ordered the almost empty bins in the store-shed to be filled nearly to the brim with sand, which was then covered up with what remained of the grain and meal. On some suitable pretext Whymper was led through the store-shed and allowed to catch a glimpse of the bins. He was deceived, and continued to report to the outside world that there was no food shortage on Animal Farm.

Nevertheless, towards the end of January it became obvious that it would be necessary to procure some more grain from somewhere. In these days Napoleon rarely appeared in public, but spent all his time in the farmhouse, which was guarded at each door by fierce-looking dogs. When he did emerge, it was in a ceremonial manner, with an escort of six dogs who closely surrounded him and growled if anyone came too near. Frequently he did not even appear on Sunday mornings, but issued his orders through one of the other pigs, usually Squealer.

One Sunday morning Squealer announced that the hens, who had just come in to lay again, must surrender their eggs. Napoleon had accepted, through Whymper, a contract for four hundred eggs a week. The price of these would pay for enough grain and meal to keep the farm going till summer came on and conditions were easier.

When the hens heard this, they raised a terrible outcry. They had been warned earlier that this sacrifice might be necessary, but had not believed that it would really happen. They were just getting their clutches ready for the spring sitting, and they protested that to take the eggs away now was murder. For the first time since the expulsion of Jones, there was something resembling a rebellion. Led by three young Black Minorca pullets, the hens made a determined effort to thwart Napoleon's wishes. Their method was to fly up to the rafters and there lay their eggs, which smashed to pieces on the floor. Napoleon acted swiftly and ruthlessly. He ordered the hens' rations to be stopped, and decreed that any animal giving so much as a grain of corn to a hen should be punished by death. 

(...)

"Meanwhile life was hard. The winter was as cold as the last one had been, and food was even shorter. Once again all rations were reduced, except those of the pigs and the dogs. A too rigid equality in rations, Squealer explained, would have been contrary to the principles of Animalism. In any case he had no difficulty in proving to the other animals that they were NOT in reality short of food, whatever the appearances might be. For the time being, certainly, it had been found necessary to make a readjustment of rations (Squealer always spoke of it as a "readjustment," never as a "reduction"), but in comparison with the days of Jones, the improvement was enormous. Reading out the figures in a shrill, rapid voice, he proved to them in detail that they had more oats, more hay, more turnips than they had had in Jones's day, that they worked shorter hours, that their drinking water was of better quality, that they lived longer, that a larger proportion of their young ones survived infancy, and that they had more straw in their stalls and suffered less from fleas. The animals believed every word of it. Truth to tell, Jones and all he stood for had almost faded out of their memories. They knew that life nowadays was harsh and bare, that they were often hungry and often cold, and that they were usually working when they were not asleep. But doubtless it had been worse in the old days. They were glad to believe so. Besides, in those days they had been slaves and now they were free, and that made all the difference, as Squealer did not fail to point out."

George Orwell, Animal Farm (1945)

Minnie mouse lover

This is Khiya (nepali for "rusty"... or so i've been told)

Khiya loves sleeping

Sleepy

It was a cold afternoon...

Cold statue

I thought it would be worth rescuing some of the haiku from that forgotten blog of mine...

#1

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Tren para todos