Patacones

Have I mentioned how much I love patacones? Just how much? I had hot, fresh ones complete with frijoles on Saturday night (dodging the ham in the frijoles basically successfully), which were glorious - salty, fried and delicious. Basically, you fry plátanos verdes in tons of oil with tons of salt and then squash them, from what I can work out, and refry them. Something that bad for you can only taste good. And they do. They're glorious. Anyway, just wanted to mention that as I seem to have omitted it thus far.

This morning I washed my clothes, with difficulty. I just cannot get used to the washing machine here - I'm very much an all or nothing kind of gal, dealing with handwashing and full on machines but not the system at Mayela's where you have to keep watching, and she washes everything about three times, and thinks I do it all wrong. It reminded me to be grateful for washing machines, but also brought to mind the time when we were in Olinda, Brasil (I know that's annoyingly poncy, but for some reason I now can't spell it with a "z" - and that's zed folks, not zee), aroundabout my 21st birthday, and we splashed out in the very sweet place we were staying on getting some clothes washed for us. It seemed like a fortune at the time, in our meagre budgets, but was probably about $10. Either way, it was utterly worth it - they smelt milky, not like a pint but that warm, sweet and soft smell like babies have, or the comforting drink with honey (or, more likely, kahlua) in winter when you have a cold. It was so so so good. And, scarily, a long time ago as the late twenties approach with a vengeance.

Anyhoo, to get off that topic, here are some photos of the rather fab people I work with, taken at the goodbye party we had for Paula last week. Paula's Argentinian, returning to Buenos Aires in two weeks, and knows more about long-distance relationships than even M and I do, having been in one covering about 8 different countries over the last few years. No one wants her to go... there will be serious tears when she goes. Sorry they're a bit dark, but if you click you should be able to see them better. And I promise to mess around with my camera to get better, lighter shots in.
Las Extranjeras, as we are known, Paula (Argentina), Larra (euskaldunak, or Basque - from Bilbao/Bizkaia), and me (from London, if for some reason you have no idea where Lewisham is - which is a disgrace).
L-R, back row/standing: Ligia (Tica), me (looking particularly frazzled), Larra, Pau, and Xinia - she's worked here for years and was the first Tico I met - she picked me up from the airport. L-R, seated: Mariola, Auxi (with whose aunt and uncle I am staying), Ana (the Madrileña who runs the whole place) and Paloma (Madrileña also, intern here).
Maria José, rocking woman, my age, mother of a 9 year old, working on women's rights and reproductive rights, and Pau again. They are a seriously lovely bunch of people - I have fallen on my feet here...