tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53477876101424088192024-03-13T20:39:04.545-07:00A Community of MemorySharing stories of Hawaii and things that amuse me.Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.comBlogger66125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-71348508946175761592012-06-08T17:50:00.002-07:002012-06-08T17:52:01.562-07:00"You're Not Special" Graduation SpeechDavid McCullough, Wellesley High School English Teacher, Tells Graduates: 'You're Not Special'<br />
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My favorite part: Don't just do things for the sake of personal accomplishment or self-indulgence, but because “you love it and believe in its importance.”<br />
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Link to video is in this article: <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/06/david-mccullough-wellesle_n_1575402.html">http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/06/david-mccullough-wellesle_n_1575402.html</a>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-81904929891884604342011-09-30T18:01:00.000-07:002011-09-30T18:25:32.787-07:00Cranes for Peace<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Za5Lr-LTo5Q/ToZqwK3gIcI/AAAAAAAACNg/oBQHi9BhLcc/s1600/IMAG1163.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Za5Lr-LTo5Q/ToZqwK3gIcI/AAAAAAAACNg/oBQHi9BhLcc/s400/IMAG1163.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658327357621019074" /></a><br />One of my strongest memories of childhood was reading, "Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes." Her story moved me, especially what her friends did after her death. They told her story and then they put a statue of Sadako in the Hiroshima Peace Park and encouraged people to fold cranes with a fervent wish for peace. Inscribed on the statue is: This is our Cry. This is our Prayer. Peace in the World.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a5tlQgGdkzA/ToZq8DTz9cI/AAAAAAAACNo/f9AFgtPvrek/s1600/IMAG1157.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a5tlQgGdkzA/ToZq8DTz9cI/AAAAAAAACNo/f9AFgtPvrek/s400/IMAG1157.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658327561750705602" /></a><br /><br />These 3,000 cranes were all folded with a fervent wish for peace and will go to the Peace Museum and Himeyuri Memorial in Okinawa. "This is our Cry. This is our Prayer. Peace in the World."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pfmoln3AIbo/ToZr5dL9tdI/AAAAAAAACOA/7VABZsHulmI/s1600/IMAG1166.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pfmoln3AIbo/ToZr5dL9tdI/AAAAAAAACOA/7VABZsHulmI/s400/IMAG1166.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658328616669132242" /></a>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-9065307752435074932009-09-26T01:19:00.000-07:002009-09-26T01:23:32.338-07:00Telling Stories with SandYou know I spend a lot of time surfing the interweb and I have seen some amazing things on the web. <b>I have never seen anything like this before. </b>I've watched this several times already and still am amazed each time.<br /><br />Kseniya Simonova, the winner of Ukraine's Got Talent, has become a YouTube phenomenon by telling stories through sand animation. In this video:<br /><br /><blockquote>"She recounts Germany conquering Ukraine in the second world war. She brings calm, then conflict. A couple on a bench become a woman's face; a peaceful walkway becomes a conflagration; a weeping widow morphs into an obelisk for an unknown soldier. Simonova looks like some vengeful Old Testament deity as she destroys then recreates her scenes - with deft strokes, sprinkles and sweeps she keeps the narrative going. She moves the judges to tears as she subtitles the final scene "you are always near".<br /><br />it's clear that Simonova has achieved her goal as an artist. If we take it that art's purpose is to illuminate the world in a new way, provoke a reaction, somehow alter the consciousness of the viewer then her work is a huge success. And that high art can come from a format [ukraine's got talent] that produced Stavros Flatley and that it can be popularised and sent around the world is surely some kind of modern miracle."</blockquote><b>Watch this video. Really. Watch this video. </b>It is so worth the time.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/518XP8prwZo&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/518XP8prwZo&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><blockquote>"What she depicts is love and war, set amidst the turmoil of WWII. Ukraine was probably the area most devastated in the war, even more than Germany. It was a conflict that saw nearly one in four Ukrainians killed. A population of almost 42 million lost between 8 and 11 million people, depending on which estimate one references. Ukraine represented almost 20 percent of all the causalities suffered during WWII. And that was after Stalin had killed millions during the manufactured famines before the war. It to this day touches every Ukrainian. That's the context of war memory that Kseniya reaches out to.<br /><br />The sand art of Kseniya is set to music that reflects the tone of what she is trying to project, and the combined effect works very well. Sand animators use simple grains of sand to tell a story, in a way many people haven't seen before. What Kseniya Seminova does in a few short minutes is all the more memorable because it is so fleeting. Once she is finished, the grains of sand go back into containers and the art is swept away."</blockquote>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-72551319457327293112009-04-03T16:58:00.000-07:002009-04-03T20:47:16.602-07:00Remembering Herbert Isonaga, 442nd RCT<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/Sda7OYdVJNI/AAAAAAAABa4/uepkmyN5EEw/s1600-h/img6604.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/Sda7OYdVJNI/AAAAAAAABa4/uepkmyN5EEw/s320/img6604.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320645865542853842" border="0" /></a>I just heard that Herbert Isonaga passed away. "Herbie" was a member of the VVV and the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, Headquarters Company and a friend. After I heard the news, I wanted to honor and remember his life. . .<br /><br />Herbert Isonaga was born in 1921 in Koloa, Kauai. His family operated Isonaga Store, which supplied Filipino bachelors employed by Koloa Sugar Company with <em>iriko</em> (parched small sardine), shrimp, <em>bagoong</em> (fermented fish sauce), codfish and various canned goods. Trousers, shirts, lunch pail bags and <em>tabi</em> (Japanese socks), all sewn by Herbert’s mother, were also available<br /><p>Of the 50 or 60 in his class at Koloa School, only 20, including Herbert, continued their studies at Kauai High School. Winning by one vote, “Landslide” Isonaga was elected senior class president. He went on to attend college at the University of Oregon and the University of Hawaii.<br /></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/SdbYHtXF1PI/AAAAAAAABbA/EL8QL0snJN8/s1600-h/img6598.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/SdbYHtXF1PI/AAAAAAAABbA/EL8QL0snJN8/s320/img6598.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320677636731950322" border="0" /></a>Herbert participated in the discussions and planning of the Varsity Victory Volunteers (VVV). He left college to join the VVV to be a part of the war effort. He then volunteered for the 442nd RCT. Herbert was assigned to the antitank platoon of Headquarters Company, 2nd Battalion and served admirably with the 442nd RCT in Italy and France.<br /><p>After the war, Herbert graduated with a degree in business from UH. He operated a bookstore near the university. Later, he ran Herbie’s Drive-In. After selling his business to KC Drive-In, Herbert went into real estate with Hung Wai Ching. </p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/Sda7Hsgv3PI/AAAAAAAABaw/EeYXaydxIvc/s1600-h/img6603.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/Sda7Hsgv3PI/AAAAAAAABaw/EeYXaydxIvc/s320/img6603.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320645750666812658" border="0" /></a>Herbert married Sue Kobatake on March 26, 1949. They had three children. </p>I thought Herbert was both charming and sweet. My last memory of him is at a reception honoring Moriso Teraoka. Herbie came up and gave me a big hug.<br /><br />Herbert Isonaga is one of my heroes. . .I am so grateful I got to meet him and tell his story.<br /><br />Farewell Herbert!<br /><br /><div id="text_summary"> <p></p><blockquote><p>“The greatest thing that happened to the AJA community was World War II. The 442nd and the 100th did a great service to the AJA community and ourselves for having served. I take great pride in that. </p> <p>I sincerely feel that the recognition we deserve has been offered to us in many, many ways. Primarily in the opportunities that it has offered us.”- Herbert Isonaga<br /></p></blockquote><p></p> </div>Please read the rest of his story: <a href="http://nisei.hawaii.edu/page/herbert">http://nisei.hawaii.edu/page/herbert</a>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-72133213001456176482008-10-30T13:46:00.000-07:002008-12-03T13:56:51.039-08:00Remembering Hideko Masaki<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STcAbT9wISI/AAAAAAAABTg/cjFKvbrEBy0/s1600-h/hideko.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STcAbT9wISI/AAAAAAAABTg/cjFKvbrEBy0/s320/hideko.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275685957703573794" /></a>On my trip to South America, I got to know Hideko Masaki. The first time I really talked to her was during lunch at a Chinese restaurant on our first day in Sao Paulo. We all opted to introduce ourselves. I started off and Hideko was next. <div><br /></div><div>She talked for quite a while about her life (which was varied and very interesting). As she wrapped up, I remember her grinning and saying, "I know I've talked for a long time but I'm old and I have a lot to say."</div><div><br /></div><div>I remember thinking, "How cool is this lady?!?!" </div><div><br /></div><div>Hideko was in a car accident ten days ago and died from injuries sustained in the crash. She was 76 years old. I went to pay my respects at her service today and to support her daughter Mavis. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's a shock that she is gone. In my memory. . .I see the spunky and sassy Hideko. And always,I think back to our first meeting and remember how very cool she was. Ciao Hideko.</div>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-67777413169741034052008-09-01T08:51:00.000-07:002008-12-03T17:29:55.124-08:00My South America Trip Comes to a Close<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STS3L8fjMPI/AAAAAAAAA1g/ZrpVozjPL5w/s1600-h/Day-12_004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STS3L8fjMPI/AAAAAAAAA1g/ZrpVozjPL5w/s320/Day-12_004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275042479402594546" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STS3TT77fFI/AAAAAAAAA1o/Wy3_0D7Y7hA/s1600-h/Day-12_002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STS3TT77fFI/AAAAAAAAA1o/Wy3_0D7Y7hA/s320/Day-12_002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275042605954726994" border="0" /></a>I'm a huge fan of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malbec">malbec</a>. I was determined to bring as many as I could home. :) I went on a hunt for malbec. Augustin Kanashiro wrote down a location (Winery) and where to go.<br /><br />I hopped into a cab and managed to find the <a href="http://www.winery.com.ar/">Winery</a>. The clerks spoke no English (and I stink at Spanish). Through many gestures and drawing things, I selected 9 fabulous wines.<br /><br />I was concerned about how I would get it home and have it survive check-in. They put the wines in styrofoam, stacked them up and strapped it together. They covered that with brown paper and assured me that it would hold. !! I was skeptical until they put a bottle in the styrofoam pack and started slamming it against the counter with gusto. :) no problem!<br /><br />I get my precious cargo loaded into a cab and head back to the hotel. The driver can't find the street to the hotel, so I get out and haul the box for a couple of streets. whew!<br />When we get to the airport, I get the box shrink wrapped for extra protection. Just in time, John Tasato kept eyeing the box and asking when we were going to start drinking. :)<br /><br />The <a href="http://www.luigibosca.com.ar/2007/v8/en/index.html">Luigi Bosca</a>, Rutini and <a href="http://www.snooth.com/wine/catena-ernesto-malbec-tahuan-2003/">Tahuan</a> were lovely. Cheers!<br /><br />Note: I breezed through customs with my treasures. Yay!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STS3TT77fFI/AAAAAAAAA1o/Wy3_0D7Y7hA/s1600-h/Day-12_002.jpg"><br /></a><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-27822286144543066962008-08-31T20:50:00.000-07:002008-12-03T13:14:53.112-08:00Closing ReceptionI get to the closing reception and track down Natalia and Augustin so I can say Ciao! Luckily, I run into Paulo on the stairs and get to make my farewells with him as well.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STb17tlvPJI/AAAAAAAABTQ/-2bYXZyvt1k/s1600-h/Day-11_028.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STb17tlvPJI/AAAAAAAABTQ/-2bYXZyvt1k/s200/Day-11_028.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275674419710082194" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STb1ivyrtFI/AAAAAAAABS4/yPhdSaRkdWY/s1600-h/Day-11_027.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STb1ivyrtFI/AAAAAAAABS4/yPhdSaRkdWY/s200/Day-11_027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275673990804517970" border="0" /></a><br />By the time I get there, the "foreigners" have all been moved to the 2nd floor. I opt to go to the 3rd floor where all the locals are gathered and have so much fun trying to communicate with them.<br /><br />They are all concerned that I'm on the 3rd floor and keep telling me they think the food and drinks are better on the 2nd floor. I tell them I'd rather hang out with them and talk story.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STb1t8zcqtI/AAAAAAAABTI/HeLOikRjSCE/s1600-h/Day-11_026.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STb1t8zcqtI/AAAAAAAABTI/HeLOikRjSCE/s200/Day-11_026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275674183275948754" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STb1tGPbF4I/AAAAAAAABTA/_-Hn_JqH-pw/s1600-h/Day-11_025.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STb1tGPbF4I/AAAAAAAABTA/_-Hn_JqH-pw/s200/Day-11_025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275674168629335938" border="0" /></a><br />Wow. They're so NICE! They notice that I like the sandwiches and I find myself inundated with plates of sandwiches. I didn't realize that they were going around the room piling up all the sandwiches for me. :)<br /><br />It was great hearing their stories and getting introduced to entire clans, with names being rattled off in a dizzying array.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STb2FuvjQhI/AAAAAAAABTY/BRk2lX8FsBE/s1600-h/Day-12_001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STb2FuvjQhI/AAAAAAAABTY/BRk2lX8FsBE/s320/Day-12_001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275674591818367506" border="0" /></a>Side Note: The sandwiches in BA are <span style="font-weight: bold;">amazing</span>. The bread is really thin and has no crust on it.<br /><br />There was a shop across from our hotel. I noticed that there was always long lines of locals waiting in front of the shop. Of course I join the line to see what they're getting! <br /><br />It's amazing how they make the ham and cheese sandwiches! Picture a huge piece of thin white or wheat bread with the crust cut off. Bread : Ham and Mayo : Bread : Cheese : Bread : Ham and Mayo : Bread.<br /><br />The ham and cheese are so thin, the taste is light. I loved it!!!Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-64877102334135197302008-08-31T08:49:00.000-07:002008-12-03T17:10:21.726-08:00San Telmo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbwsg4zibI/AAAAAAAABRA/iy0ihAFDWHk/s1600-h/Day-11_001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbwsg4zibI/AAAAAAAABRA/iy0ihAFDWHk/s200/Day-11_001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275668661044218290" border="0" /></a>We head out to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_Telmo">San Telmo</a>, the oldest barrio of Buenos Aires. It's quaint with old churches, cafes and shops. The cobblestone streets are gorgeous (tho littered with dog poop).<br /><br />It was rather cold and the antique market seemed rather schmaltzy, so I ditched the shopping to go drink <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mate_%28beverage%29">mate</a> with the bus drivers. :) When I walked in, they quickly hid their girly magazines from sight. They were gracious enough to share their hot drink with me and to explain all the different drinking options.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbwtMpw6bI/AAAAAAAABRQ/2wGMELhLUIM/s1600-h/Day-11_005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbwtMpw6bI/AAAAAAAABRQ/2wGMELhLUIM/s200/Day-11_005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275668672792291762" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbxhDfkPJI/AAAAAAAABRw/NUTti1KpG-Q/s1600-h/Day-11_003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbxhDfkPJI/AAAAAAAABRw/NUTti1KpG-Q/s200/Day-11_003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275669563686796434" border="0" /></a><br />Chris and I opted to stay behind to explore the area a bit more.<br /><br />It's so cold, we warm up with some milke tea and coffee at a really charming cafe.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbxCq0QwxI/AAAAAAAABRo/2DmtuoJzXtk/s1600-h/Day-11_008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbxCq0QwxI/AAAAAAAABRo/2DmtuoJzXtk/s200/Day-11_008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275669041666638610" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbxsRoJNuI/AAAAAAAABR4/Kl4KcwWzE_w/s1600-h/Day-11_017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbxsRoJNuI/AAAAAAAABR4/Kl4KcwWzE_w/s200/Day-11_017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275669756459431650" border="0" /></a>As we browse the stalls, a hawker selling empanadas goes from stall to stall. We try some of his wares. Delicious! I also try some fresh roasted nuts.<br /><br />We try go to the ice cream parlor (Lonely Planet says ice cream in BA is fabulous and a must eat). I love how they scoop and serve the ice cream. Soooo good. The cones are really tiny. Heh. The toilets have no toilet paper, so we start building a hoard from the napkins at the ice cream parlor. Is that TMI?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbx2tdQLpI/AAAAAAAABSA/ov468yKyUBY/s1600-h/Day-11_012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbx2tdQLpI/AAAAAAAABSA/ov468yKyUBY/s200/Day-11_012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275669935728635538" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We find an amazing mate shop with a very cool lady. I buy 1 Kilo of Yerba Mate and a bunch of gourds and straws!!! I'm so a mate fan now.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbyUmLBo5I/AAAAAAAABSY/6oMRkeWedss/s1600-h/Day-11_014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbyUmLBo5I/AAAAAAAABSY/6oMRkeWedss/s200/Day-11_014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275670449169212306" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbyVDucycI/AAAAAAAABSg/Kv32qceJX00/s1600-h/Day-11_016.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbyVDucycI/AAAAAAAABSg/Kv32qceJX00/s200/Day-11_016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275670457102420418" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />The streets are full of street performers and musicians. We spend a lot of time enjoying the atmosphere and soaking up the vibe.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We see a looooong line outside of a parilla and decide to join the queue. :) The guy cooking the meat insisted we take photos with him and his butcher knife. He kept saying, "Mine is beautiful."<br />Not sure what he was referring to.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbypqEmhQI/AAAAAAAABSo/reuIZkHHzh8/s1600-h/Day-11_019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbypqEmhQI/AAAAAAAABSo/reuIZkHHzh8/s200/Day-11_019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275670810993263874" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbyphgvD6I/AAAAAAAABSw/yf0Z4VhuZws/s1600-h/Day-11_023.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbyphgvD6I/AAAAAAAABSw/yf0Z4VhuZws/s200/Day-11_023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275670808695345058" border="0" /></a><br />Chris is leaving a day early and heads back to the hotel. Awww. . . Ciao Chris!!<br /><br /><br />I catch a cab to get to the Okinawan center for the closing reception.Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-3889031270637231702008-08-31T07:29:00.000-07:002008-12-03T12:31:42.461-08:00Found in a Mall on Florida Street<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbsmtjedCI/AAAAAAAABQ4/A8rE4f60qak/s1600-h/Day-10_066.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STbsmtjedCI/AAAAAAAABQ4/A8rE4f60qak/s320/Day-10_066.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275664163318690850" border="0" /></a><br />Okay. This struck me as an extremely odd mural to have in a shopping mall. . .Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-26312574660950344792008-08-30T20:48:00.000-07:002008-12-02T23:06:29.142-08:00A Good Tango Show!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYuwaAqp9I/AAAAAAAABP4/ePaLX1DGP-4/s1600-h/Day-10_067.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYuwaAqp9I/AAAAAAAABP4/ePaLX1DGP-4/s320/Day-10_067.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275455422661830610" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYuwTHXhEI/AAAAAAAABQA/z2M12falgU8/s1600-h/Day-10_068.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYuwTHXhEI/AAAAAAAABQA/z2M12falgU8/s320/Day-10_068.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275455420810888258" border="0" /></a>WUB Argentina organized a tango dinner show for the group. WOW!!! This was a good dinner tango show!!! We took up the entire place. We had front row seats. The food was good. Steak, of course! Chikako challenged me to an arm wrestling match to see who was the strongest. She kicked my butt.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYuxMN_1-I/AAAAAAAABQQ/EP3vErK0G60/s1600-h/Day-10_084.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYuxMN_1-I/AAAAAAAABQQ/EP3vErK0G60/s320/Day-10_084.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275455436139517922" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYuxMk2xdI/AAAAAAAABQY/fiUZ3E6a1tk/s1600-h/Day-10_087.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYuxMk2xdI/AAAAAAAABQY/fiUZ3E6a1tk/s320/Day-10_087.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275455436235392466" border="0" /></a><br />The tango was amazing and mesmerizing!!<br /><br />There was also a rendition of "Don't Cry for Me Argentina" that was quite soulful.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYuwwJa5iI/AAAAAAAABQI/W9K71gAasrc/s1600-h/Day-10_080.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYuwwJa5iI/AAAAAAAABQI/W9K71gAasrc/s320/Day-10_080.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275455428604126754" border="0" /></a>But my favorite was the conductor who just jammed on his accordion!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />OMG. OMG. OMG. The gaucho performer was HOT! HOT! HOT!<br /><br />I must have been drooling because he stopped to wink at me. . .two times!!!<br /><br />Whew!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Clarence got us some WUB Peru silk scarves and one of the ladies taught us how to tie it to look like a tie! Okay, I didn't learn (we were drinking a lot of malbec) but it was pretty!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYviFAosVI/AAAAAAAABQg/9SLgbrT0n7Q/s1600-h/Day-10_089.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYviFAosVI/AAAAAAAABQg/9SLgbrT0n7Q/s320/Day-10_089.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275456276018016594" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYviTux3KI/AAAAAAAABQo/mwdsed2XQfw/s1600-h/Day-10_091.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYviTux3KI/AAAAAAAABQo/mwdsed2XQfw/s320/Day-10_091.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275456279969651874" border="0" /></a>They ended with a kachashi that was hilarious. The tape kept freezing. We'd be dancing, then the music cut off abruptly and everyone froze in place. The music would start up later and dancing resumed. Then we'd have to stop. go. stop. go. It was funny.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYviszk6LI/AAAAAAAABQw/1Amc44z_ERw/s1600-h/Day-10_092.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYviszk6LI/AAAAAAAABQw/1Amc44z_ERw/s320/Day-10_092.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275456286700660914" border="0" /></a><br />The end of the evening found Leon sitting on stage singing opera. At least, I think that's what he was doing.Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-92137768697900845272008-08-30T16:47:00.000-07:002008-12-02T22:54:23.242-08:00Amazing Parade<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYr0DQWWdI/AAAAAAAABO4/-PYp4pQvK_o/s1600-h/Day-10_042_parade.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYr0DQWWdI/AAAAAAAABO4/-PYp4pQvK_o/s200/Day-10_042_parade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275452186738186706" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYr0jdue9I/AAAAAAAABPI/7nru0PiJ8NA/s1600-h/Day-10_048_parade.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYr0jdue9I/AAAAAAAABPI/7nru0PiJ8NA/s200/Day-10_048_parade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275452195384228818" border="0" /></a>We met up with the group in time for the parade which went through one of the major streets!! :)<br /><br />We ended up with the WUB group and for some reason I was given the Maui banner to hold.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYr0SAV7XI/AAAAAAAABPA/Rr7Fgn1qvJc/s1600-h/Day-10_047_parade.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYr0SAV7XI/AAAAAAAABPA/Rr7Fgn1qvJc/s200/Day-10_047_parade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275452190697581938" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYr1Ad4qqI/AAAAAAAABPQ/ydLc_7FVCnQ/s1600-h/Day-10_052_parade.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYr1Ad4qqI/AAAAAAAABPQ/ydLc_7FVCnQ/s200/Day-10_052_parade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275452203169524386" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYr1aMO_uI/AAAAAAAABPY/09ic6HAHAEk/s1600-h/Day-10_056_parade.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYr1aMO_uI/AAAAAAAABPY/09ic6HAHAEk/s200/Day-10_056_parade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275452210074812130" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />l-r: Kozue dancing; Daniel on the ukulele, which rarely left his hands the entire trip; and Ed decked out in flags.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYsbo8joNI/AAAAAAAABPg/lzHVyekoVsY/s1600-h/Day-10_059_parade.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYsbo8joNI/AAAAAAAABPg/lzHVyekoVsY/s200/Day-10_059_parade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275452866870616274" border="0" /></a><br />I loved seeing the families. There were so many cute children!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />During the parade, Bobbi Kuba led the way, dancing hula while the rest of us sang "Pearly Shells." There was an amazing crowd lined up on the streets cheering and waving. Many yelled "Aloha!" to use and flashed the shaka as we walked by. RMD Argentina provided an amazing beat for us to march to.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYsiyGMCTI/AAAAAAAABPw/tIxgp0RF3eE/s1600-h/Day-10_063_parade.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYsiyGMCTI/AAAAAAAABPw/tIxgp0RF3eE/s320/Day-10_063_parade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275452989586016562" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYsiqPo5JI/AAAAAAAABPo/u5V9jZ7lDzU/s1600-h/Day-10_062_parade.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYsiqPo5JI/AAAAAAAABPo/u5V9jZ7lDzU/s320/Day-10_062_parade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275452987478172818" border="0" /></a>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-36717238757054788222008-08-30T11:46:00.000-07:002008-12-02T22:45:30.848-08:00La Boca<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYpt3GTkzI/AAAAAAAABNw/9BlO-4_U-JQ/s1600-h/Day-10_020.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYpt3GTkzI/AAAAAAAABNw/9BlO-4_U-JQ/s200/Day-10_020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275449881372365618" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYpt9C4wTI/AAAAAAAABNo/ffEwP8kOIdE/s1600-h/Day-10_019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYpt9C4wTI/AAAAAAAABNo/ffEwP8kOIdE/s200/Day-10_019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275449882968637746" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYpuEJqQOI/AAAAAAAABN4/zdNb7JiO0KU/s1600-h/Day-10_021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYpuEJqQOI/AAAAAAAABN4/zdNb7JiO0KU/s200/Day-10_021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275449884876095714" border="0" /></a>We visit <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Boca">La Boca</a>, a barrio or neighborhood of BA, to do some shopping. It's also home of Boca Juniors!<br /><br />Marianna gives us an hour there. :( We're having so much fun, Chris, Hiro, Chikako and I opt to stay behind and have lunch on our own. This is a very fun and funky neighborhood!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYpuYKCv3I/AAAAAAAABOA/r2hNRg19juE/s1600-h/Day-10_022.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYpuYKCv3I/AAAAAAAABOA/r2hNRg19juE/s200/Day-10_022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275449890246410098" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYq3-HRrjI/AAAAAAAABOw/Zy_wCVD8RsU/s1600-h/Day-10_040.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYq3-HRrjI/AAAAAAAABOw/Zy_wCVD8RsU/s200/Day-10_040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275451154565803570" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYpupzVCEI/AAAAAAAABOI/bC13GpR6S2Y/s1600-h/Day-10_027.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYpupzVCEI/AAAAAAAABOI/bC13GpR6S2Y/s200/Day-10_027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275449894982977602" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The restaurants and cafes are extremely aggressive. They have tables and chairs setup on the street and if you slow down they swarm around you to get you to sit down. We find a place that has a band and tango dancers. Chikako insists that Hiro try his hand at the tango. :) The waiter didn't want to dance with Hiro, tho.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYqRipFZ-I/AAAAAAAABOg/Guzcf92Aja0/s1600-h/Day-10_038.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYqRipFZ-I/AAAAAAAABOg/Guzcf92Aja0/s200/Day-10_038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275450494356383714" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYqRBiLP4I/AAAAAAAABOQ/Gzbzhmmn-rg/s1600-h/Day-10_032.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYqRBiLP4I/AAAAAAAABOQ/Gzbzhmmn-rg/s200/Day-10_032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275450485469036418" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYqRMzA7PI/AAAAAAAABOY/bnuOdDfM_Hs/s1600-h/Day-10_037.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYqRMzA7PI/AAAAAAAABOY/bnuOdDfM_Hs/s200/Day-10_037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275450488492453106" border="0" /></a>We catch a cab in time to get to the parade.Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-58075845055039014442008-08-30T10:19:00.000-07:002008-12-02T22:32:48.925-08:00Another Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYmbhiJ-GI/AAAAAAAABMQ/ewND9n_hi5A/s1600-h/Day-10_001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYmbhiJ-GI/AAAAAAAABMQ/ewND9n_hi5A/s200/Day-10_001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275446267811068002" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYnYNky4QI/AAAAAAAABNA/3zC6wY_i5LM/s1600-h/Day-10_008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYnYNky4QI/AAAAAAAABNA/3zC6wY_i5LM/s200/Day-10_008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275447310425448706" border="0" /></a>I have breakfast with Kozue at a little cafe several streets away from the hotel. We have some medialunas (sweet "<em>half</em> moons" croissants) with milk tea and fresh squeezed orange juice. Things are so cheap in Argentina. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Argentine_peso">peso</a> to dollar is 3:1!<br /><br />We tour the city and visit a wonderful cathedral. I hang out at the park watching an old man feed the birds.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYnYVEsqBI/AAAAAAAABNI/DMdV1k67g7E/s1600-h/Day-10_011.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYnYVEsqBI/AAAAAAAABNI/DMdV1k67g7E/s200/Day-10_011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275447312438306834" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We visit <a href="http://www.cafetortoni.com.ar/index_ingles.html">Cafe Tortoni</a> for some amazing dark hot chocolate. Chris and Robert argue over who would pick up the tab. They arm wrestle but just settle for just throwing money at the waiter, who giggles at their antics.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYm9V_1VhI/AAAAAAAABMo/vwLrtGTKJPs/s1600-h/Day-10_014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYm9V_1VhI/AAAAAAAABMo/vwLrtGTKJPs/s200/Day-10_014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275446848829871634" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYm9b_q-rI/AAAAAAAABMw/TvLb4g_5dbA/s1600-h/Day-10_016.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYm9b_q-rI/AAAAAAAABMw/TvLb4g_5dbA/s200/Day-10_016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275446850439805618" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYm93a-vEI/AAAAAAAABM4/HUhvqbSW_CE/s1600-h/Day-10_017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYm93a-vEI/AAAAAAAABM4/HUhvqbSW_CE/s200/Day-10_017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275446857802103874" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Having lost the battle to pay the bill, Robert tries to run away with a cart of produce. We have to tackle him down and forcibly drag him away.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYnjnL-M-I/AAAAAAAABNQ/OOBM8z01mcM/s1600-h/Day-10_018.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYnjnL-M-I/AAAAAAAABNQ/OOBM8z01mcM/s320/Day-10_018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275447506279216098" border="0" /></a>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-58081766397491957792008-08-29T22:11:00.000-07:002008-12-02T22:17:55.595-08:00Dinner: ItalianWe head to an Italian restaurant recommended by Augustin and enjoy a lovely meal with amazing malbec. I get squid ink pasta. Jimmy flirts with the ladies.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYj2V19JLI/AAAAAAAABMA/WDiPCE-crD0/s1600-h/Day-09_062.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYj2V19JLI/AAAAAAAABMA/WDiPCE-crD0/s200/Day-09_062.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275443429994472626" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYj1oB5WSI/AAAAAAAABL4/iMApb0X-TR0/s1600-h/Day-09_057.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYj1oB5WSI/AAAAAAAABL4/iMApb0X-TR0/s200/Day-09_057.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275443417696524578" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYj0j6ZdTI/AAAAAAAABLw/80n_YcCuJPo/s1600-h/Day-09_054.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYj0j6ZdTI/AAAAAAAABLw/80n_YcCuJPo/s200/Day-09_054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275443399411463474" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Chris is fascinated with a toothbrush vending machine. Each color comes with a different message. She ends up with "Unlimited Energy."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYkBIvjcxI/AAAAAAAABMI/64nwDj_ZY4c/s1600-h/Day-09_049.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYkBIvjcxI/AAAAAAAABMI/64nwDj_ZY4c/s320/Day-09_049.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275443615456523026" border="0" /></a><br />We walk back to the hotel from the restaurant.<br />This is such a beautiful city!!!<br /><br />Chris and I continue our walk down Florida Street where we encounter a man with an amazing voice singing opera arias. We stay to listen to several songs. It was surreal and utterly beautiful. What a magical night.Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-84053644926512874732008-08-29T19:45:00.000-07:002008-12-03T13:18:58.196-08:00Welcome ReceptionWe attend a welcome reception. It's funny, Brazil had very little in way of centennial celebration souvenirs. We found a t-shirt and some people got pins. Argentina, on the other hand, had a slew of merchandise at the reception!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYiYH37-WI/AAAAAAAABLg/OP2LCeJyMro/s1600-h/Day-09_045.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYiYH37-WI/AAAAAAAABLg/OP2LCeJyMro/s320/Day-09_045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275441811336984930" border="0" /></a>The hall had long tables set up. Each table had the name of a village/city. I finally figured out that we were supposed to find our table and stay there. :) At the Naha table, one of ladies from our tour was reunited with her classmate/neighbor who she had not seen since his family emigrated to Argentina and hers to Hawaii. That was really amazing to see how touched and excited they were.<br /><br />I started talking to his son Paulo, an engineer. He and his father had traveled by bus from <a href="http://vinismo.com/en/Mendoza">Mendoza Valley</a> (home of Malbec!!!) to attend. We drink Malbec wine and share stories. He convinces me I should at least find the Itoman table.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYiYMsPv4I/AAAAAAAABLo/qVrbTAYp0aw/s1600-h/Day-09_043.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYiYMsPv4I/AAAAAAAABLo/qVrbTAYp0aw/s320/Day-09_043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275441812630126466" border="0" /></a>I get a wonderful surprise when I do eventually find the table. Natalia Yamashiro, a colleague I met years ago in California at an oral history conference, is there! Natalia was born in Argentina but now lives and works in Southern California.<br /><br />We had no idea we were both from Itoman! Natalia introduces me to Augustin Kanashiro, president of Itoman Argentina. :) I asked Augustin how Itoman Hawaii can connect to Itoman Argentina. We're not sure but we're going to keep in touch and figure out an answer!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYiGXw9FAI/AAAAAAAABLY/0ASHVJ4O8gY/s1600-h/Day-09_042.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYiGXw9FAI/AAAAAAAABLY/0ASHVJ4O8gY/s200/Day-09_042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275441506365019138" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYiGQLRJSI/AAAAAAAABLQ/gl8tP4F7dG4/s1600-h/Day-09_041.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYiGQLRJSI/AAAAAAAABLQ/gl8tP4F7dG4/s200/Day-09_041.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275441504327902498" border="0" /></a>Random thought: The bathrooms at this hall had a bizarre soap option. I found it disturbing. You rub your hands on the soap and then wash them. Isn't it kinda unsanitary as you put your dirty hands on the soap?Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-45284925033842054692008-08-29T08:44:00.000-07:002008-12-02T21:53:50.807-08:00Exploring Buenos Aires<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.enbuenosaires.com/images/es_AR/buenos-aires/curiousity/pasea-perros.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 168px;" src="http://www.enbuenosaires.com/images/es_AR/buenos-aires/curiousity/pasea-perros.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I skip breakfast at the hotel and go exploring the area around the hotel. It's such a beautiful city with incredible architecture. There is the danger of getting hit by water as the shopkeepers throw out water to wash off the sidewalk. :)<br /><br />One of the most amazing sights are the dog walkers who walk so many dogs at one time!!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYax3-FGVI/AAAAAAAABJ4/wpXeD5ijd5s/s1600-h/Day-09_018.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYax3-FGVI/AAAAAAAABJ4/wpXeD5ijd5s/s200/Day-09_018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275433457651358034" border="0" /></a>We visit a leather shop. I love the leather made from the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capybara">capybara</a>, the largest living rodent in the world. Check out the capybara hat. You can't see it but he's wearing matching boots!<br /><br />We visit another parilla. The lambs look like a satanic ritual, huh? We were offered a sizzling platter of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Offal">offal</a>, internal organs and entrails, as a start. I had a hard time with the sweetbreads and intestines. But hey, put enough <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chimichurri">chimichurri</a> and anything will taste good, eh?<br /><br />I love how simple the plating is at the parilla. We got our slab of steak on a plate. That's it. :) The meat was very good. There were also sides of pommes frites (french fries) as well.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYbNR9ILXI/AAAAAAAABKI/_3V_kbaUv68/s1600-h/Day-09_024.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYbNR9ILXI/AAAAAAAABKI/_3V_kbaUv68/s200/Day-09_024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275433928483155314" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYbOHmz8OI/AAAAAAAABKQ/FouchrtsVVU/s1600-h/Day-09_027.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYbOHmz8OI/AAAAAAAABKQ/FouchrtsVVU/s200/Day-09_027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275433942885069026" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYbNAZldrI/AAAAAAAABKA/ZFHUNOjONQE/s1600-h/Day-09_022.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYbNAZldrI/AAAAAAAABKA/ZFHUNOjONQE/s200/Day-09_022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275433923770676914" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYbOrXLNqI/AAAAAAAABKY/qkEqnBv1mPE/s1600-h/Day-09_029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYbOrXLNqI/AAAAAAAABKY/qkEqnBv1mPE/s200/Day-09_029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275433952483161762" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYbpM_FLyI/AAAAAAAABKg/gl5ktM7sQSM/s1600-h/Day-09_036.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYbpM_FLyI/AAAAAAAABKg/gl5ktM7sQSM/s200/Day-09_036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275434408185507618" border="0" /></a>And of course, Richard had to try to abscond with some of the firewood.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We visit La Recoleta Cemetary, where Eva Peron is buried. The graves are above ground and seem more like masoleums. You can peer in and see coffins! I'm fascinated by the stained glass, the multitude of cats and the one celtic grave.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYd1dJMVII/AAAAAAAABKo/vLhOREpCitI/s1600-h/Day-09_006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYd1dJMVII/AAAAAAAABKo/vLhOREpCitI/s200/Day-09_006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275436817704572034" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYd1kAHhWI/AAAAAAAABKw/wOvEpOBupn8/s1600-h/Day-09_009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYd1kAHhWI/AAAAAAAABKw/wOvEpOBupn8/s200/Day-09_009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275436819545556322" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYd1yqSAmI/AAAAAAAABK4/Twk4bZDwi0M/s1600-h/Day-09_012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYd1yqSAmI/AAAAAAAABK4/Twk4bZDwi0M/s200/Day-09_012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275436823480500834" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Okay. I don't want to dwell on how bad Marianna and Nippon Tourists are but I have to share this story. We stop off at a park where Marianna tells us, "Here is a beautiful rose garden. Many beautiful roses. You will want to take many photos, hmmm?" We ask her where the garden is and she languidly waves her hand and says that it is that way. She stays in the bus to talk on her cell phone.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYd2JGkXmI/AAAAAAAABLA/sYYyT3FKsSM/s1600-h/Day-09_019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYd2JGkXmI/AAAAAAAABLA/sYYyT3FKsSM/s200/Day-09_019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275436829504724578" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYedtgXtfI/AAAAAAAABLI/qzkgba1NbTU/s1600-h/Day-09_020.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYedtgXtfI/AAAAAAAABLI/qzkgba1NbTU/s200/Day-09_020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275437509291521522" border="0" /></a>We get to the garden and find it locked up and shut down. The garden is fallow. Even Amy is not skinny enought to get through the bars!<br /><br />At this point, it's so unbelievable it is funny. I make Marianna get out of the bus and explain why we stopped there but she is unperturbed. Oh well. It's a beautiful day and we get to play with a lovely dog and his owner. Kozue and I play amongst the trees.Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-66961896079559501412008-08-28T20:43:00.000-07:002008-12-02T21:19:29.926-08:00BEWARE and BE AWARE of Mr. Tango<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >Warning! Warning! Warning! </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />DO NOT</span> go to the Mr. Tango dinner show in Buenos Aires. Stay away. . .far away!!!<br /><br />We head over for dinner and a tango show at Mr. Tango. We are herded into a restaurant. I try to ask the waiter how the pumpkin soup was prepared and had "It's PUMPKIN!!" barked at me.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYVIh1AJhI/AAAAAAAABJg/CjLQdjMDTQ4/s1600-h/Day-08_Tango_003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYVIh1AJhI/AAAAAAAABJg/CjLQdjMDTQ4/s200/Day-08_Tango_003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275427249774929426" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYVI09EjlI/AAAAAAAABJo/8PDBe5TBEok/s1600-h/Day-08_Tango_004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYVI09EjlI/AAAAAAAABJo/8PDBe5TBEok/s200/Day-08_Tango_004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275427254909046354" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">I am not exaggerating. This dinner was some of the WORST food I have ever been served. </span>It was atrocious. BAD! BAD! BAD! BAD! BAD! The pumpkin soup consisted of shredded pumpkin sunk to the bottom of a thin cream soup with absolutely no flavor. The pasta had no seasonings! It was like eating cardboard. The absolute worst thing tho? They served a malbec that tasted bad!!<br /><br />This was the first time I wanted to submit reviews to tripadvisor.com and other places to spare people the agony of eating such swill in a town renowned for excellent cuisine.<br /><br />The tango show had really amazing performers. Unfortunately, you couldn't appreciate it b/c they cram you in like sardines and seat you on tiny wooden chairs. To make matters worse, it was stiflingly hot throughout the performance. Most people fell asleep. Some got ill from being packed in so closely in such a stuffy room.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYVMiK03WI/AAAAAAAABJw/pOPanNw5CIk/s1600-h/Day-08_Tango_007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYVMiK03WI/AAAAAAAABJw/pOPanNw5CIk/s200/Day-08_Tango_007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275427318585941346" border="0" /></a><br /><br />What tour company chose such an awful place? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Nippon Tourist</span>. If you are looking to travel to Buenos Aires, I urge you to read up on reviews of this company before booking through them. I would never go through them.Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-75846700209970214472008-08-28T16:43:00.000-07:002008-12-03T20:50:28.810-08:00Buenos Aires, Argentina<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYPwF0C9yI/AAAAAAAABI4/TTYJtqSlP8w/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Agentina-Lunch_002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYPwF0C9yI/AAAAAAAABI4/TTYJtqSlP8w/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Agentina-Lunch_002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275421332379727650" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYPw8zHz8I/AAAAAAAABJA/7uTmQlx3mB8/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Agentina-Lunch_004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYPw8zHz8I/AAAAAAAABJA/7uTmQlx3mB8/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Agentina-Lunch_004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275421347139801026" border="0" /></a>We get lunch at a <a href="http://argentinastravel.com/61/the-parilla-a-delicious-staple-of-the-argentine-table/">Parilla</a>. Lonely Planet warns that the food at this location is pretty bad so I fill up on liquids!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYP78DC-_I/AAAAAAAABJI/mTOcXCd55qs/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Agentina-Lunch_006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYP78DC-_I/AAAAAAAABJI/mTOcXCd55qs/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Agentina-Lunch_006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275421535916719090" border="0" /></a><br />Chikako does the coolest bargaining for woven bracelets. No haggling. She just hands all the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brazilian_real">Brazilian Reals</a> she has left to the lady and scoops up all the remaining bracelets and says gestures that she wants them all!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We fly to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buenos_Aires">Buenos Aires</a>, where we are met by our new tour guide, Marianna. We get to our cute little boutique hotel. I walk all over the street Marianna tells us we can find many money exchangers. Nary a one to be found. Apparently, they're on a different street. Uh-oh. I'm wondering how good (or bad) this guide is going to be.<br /><br />Buenos Aires is gorgeous. It's what I imagine European cities look like.<br /><blockquote>BA is the capital and largest city of Argentina. It is located on the southern shore of the Rio de la Plata, on the southeastern coast of the South American continent. Greater BA has a population of about 13 millions. In English, BA means "Fair Winds" or "Good Air."<br /></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote><b></b>Run into Chris on Florida Street getting her shoes shined. She's ecstatic at how shiny her shoes turn out!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYRJ648O9I/AAAAAAAABJY/jNCKOx9Tp3I/s1600-h/Day-08_Tango_002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYRJ648O9I/AAAAAAAABJY/jNCKOx9Tp3I/s200/Day-08_Tango_002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275422875635694546" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYRJmD-nkI/AAAAAAAABJQ/ErpIW0A6uyA/s1600-h/Day-08_Tango_001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYRJmD-nkI/AAAAAAAABJQ/ErpIW0A6uyA/s200/Day-08_Tango_001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275422870044843586" border="0" /></a>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-86651465642175899332008-08-28T08:42:00.000-07:002008-12-02T20:39:15.115-08:00Devil's Throat, Argentina<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYJe9cxpkI/AAAAAAAABHY/zApHEuT7wQ8/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_016.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYJe9cxpkI/AAAAAAAABHY/zApHEuT7wQ8/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275414441007097410" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYLila_i4I/AAAAAAAABIQ/GQ-3CUoqrxg/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_088.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYLila_i4I/AAAAAAAABIQ/GQ-3CUoqrxg/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_088.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275416702299900802" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYJfWDA-BI/AAAAAAAABHo/CY6KWKY5G2Y/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_047.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYJfWDA-BI/AAAAAAAABHo/CY6KWKY5G2Y/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_047.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275414447609935890" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Iguacu Falls on the Argentina side is amazing as well. We had a top view of the falls and in the distance could see where we were the day before. There were hundreds of little black birds flying in and out of the water. It was stunning.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYKovPTKaI/AAAAAAAABHw/3eGAeN0XlNU/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_055.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYKovPTKaI/AAAAAAAABHw/3eGAeN0XlNU/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_055.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275415708502796706" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYKooJVLgI/AAAAAAAABH4/EuhvglDLjYk/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_057.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYKooJVLgI/AAAAAAAABH4/EuhvglDLjYk/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_057.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275415706598714882" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Leon was going to take a photo of us but we noticed a HUGE black bug on his lei. I didn't tell him until I could get a good shot of it first. Was that mean?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Butterflies kept landing on us!! They really liked Jimmy Serikaku. One of them decided to be a ring for me.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYLO_XqZbI/AAAAAAAABII/8KcjVocjdjQ/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_066.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYLO_XqZbI/AAAAAAAABII/8KcjVocjdjQ/s320/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_066.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275416365667870130" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYLOylgcPI/AAAAAAAABIA/4OjO6aSZeN4/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_080.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYLOylgcPI/AAAAAAAABIA/4OjO6aSZeN4/s320/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_080.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275416362236276978" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I wish we had more time to hike and explore. This place is incredible. I definitely want to return. l-r: Amy & Toshiko, the fabulous mum & daughter pair; Hiro Nago striking a pose; Chris trying to take photos of the falls through the grating. Below: Robert, Rodney and John hanging out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYMHxxyvxI/AAAAAAAABIg/4-5sq8HLX4s/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_095.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYMHxxyvxI/AAAAAAAABIg/4-5sq8HLX4s/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_095.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275417341271916306" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYMH4jaZaI/AAAAAAAABIo/ACHG2Hum6eg/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_100.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYMH4jaZaI/AAAAAAAABIo/ACHG2Hum6eg/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_100.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275417343090648482" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYMHzubSvI/AAAAAAAABIY/PiPB4Kvyn_Y/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_085.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYMHzubSvI/AAAAAAAABIY/PiPB4Kvyn_Y/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_085.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275417341794667250" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYMYiNw8rI/AAAAAAAABIw/ZYOrhC-8Wco/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_105.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYMYiNw8rI/AAAAAAAABIw/ZYOrhC-8Wco/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_105.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275417629152047794" border="0" /></a>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-20344694275591895232008-08-27T20:41:00.000-07:002008-12-03T16:46:25.753-08:00Sheraton Iguacu: Argentina<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYH8vSHsfI/AAAAAAAABGw/IRC9ajQJxsk/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYH8vSHsfI/AAAAAAAABGw/IRC9ajQJxsk/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275412753577128434" border="0" /></a>We take a bus across the border to Argentina and check in at the <a href="http://www.starwoodhotels.com/sheraton/property/overview/index.html?propertyID=1152">Sheraton Iguacu</a>. Chris and I get to be roomies! Yay!<br /><br />I find it great that the hotel sticks a piece of kale in the fruit arrangement!<br /><br />We have dinner and some lovely malbec. It's great to look up at the stars and listen to the falls in the distance. btw: The hotel has FIVE pillows per bed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYIL1RYz-I/AAAAAAAABHA/sGnGlatHY9k/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_113.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYIL1RYz-I/AAAAAAAABHA/sGnGlatHY9k/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_113.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275413012882706402" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYILd2_uyI/AAAAAAAABG4/Xlq6wwSiVm4/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_112.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYILd2_uyI/AAAAAAAABG4/Xlq6wwSiVm4/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_112.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275413006597995298" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYIpqrgN6I/AAAAAAAABHQ/LScw1FZcrjI/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYIpqrgN6I/AAAAAAAABHQ/LScw1FZcrjI/s200/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275413525435529122" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We get a wake up call at 6 am. I opt to eat breakfast outside, listening to the birds and soaking in the views by a really cool fig tree!! We set off to catch the train to see the top of Iguacu Falls or the Devil's Throat.<br /><br />On the way we see these really cool <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coatis">coatis</a> (hog-nosed coon)!!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYISlVDl6I/AAAAAAAABHI/vcsErnVR_lI/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYISlVDl6I/AAAAAAAABHI/vcsErnVR_lI/s320/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275413128862209954" border="0" /></a>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-84014668618371722032008-08-27T14:40:00.000-07:002008-12-02T20:04:53.595-08:00Iguacu: BrazilWe arrive at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iguazu_Falls">Iguacu Falls</a>. It's hard to describe the scale and power of the waterfalls. Iguacu is AMAZING and awe-inspiring.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYFQSSPiHI/AAAAAAAABGg/V70Rllqz25M/s1600-h/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_066.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYFQSSPiHI/AAAAAAAABGg/V70Rllqz25M/s320/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_066.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275409790855514226" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYExcDABoI/AAAAAAAABF4/gmQgMRMsPkY/s1600-h/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYExcDABoI/AAAAAAAABF4/gmQgMRMsPkY/s320/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275409260899993218" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />We hike out on a long walkway along the canyon with an extension to the lower base to see "Garganta del Diablo." The "Paseo Garganta del Diablo" (I called it Devil's Tongue) lets us walk directly over the falls. We get wet but I couldn't tear myself away.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYFQP6iIVI/AAAAAAAABGQ/Jbm6bt08KOY/s1600-h/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_036.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYFQP6iIVI/AAAAAAAABGQ/Jbm6bt08KOY/s320/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275409790219198802" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYFQKn-JcI/AAAAAAAABGY/sxBXsS0fXk0/s1600-h/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_037.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYFQKn-JcI/AAAAAAAABGY/sxBXsS0fXk0/s320/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275409788799165890" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Amazing butterflies as well!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYExrir6rI/AAAAAAAABGA/8GyGx6XFDUg/s1600-h/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYExrir6rI/AAAAAAAABGA/8GyGx6XFDUg/s320/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275409265059424946" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYEx2EXRfI/AAAAAAAABGI/dLPC6d2pS6U/s1600-h/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_011.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYEx2EXRfI/AAAAAAAABGI/dLPC6d2pS6U/s320/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275409267885032946" border="0" /></a>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-42632417685051433282008-08-27T08:40:00.000-07:002008-12-03T17:42:28.952-08:00Asako's 77th Birthday!!!Our group gets to the airport and checks in our bags. While we're waiting around the terminal, Asako confides that it is her 77th birthday. I sneak away and drag Rick to go look for something celebratory. I get a huge chocolate muffin and gather everyone around to sing Happy Birthday to Asako. I almost ROFL when Rick lights his cigarette lighter to substitute as the candle.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYApXd9oCI/AAAAAAAABFY/sURWLLb7XtM/s1600-h/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_089.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYApXd9oCI/AAAAAAAABFY/sURWLLb7XtM/s320/Day-07_Iguacu_Argentina_089.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275404724185440290" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">HAPPY 77th BIRTHDAY ASAKO-SAN!</span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYFk8nvO8I/AAAAAAAABGo/O_ayHeA1v-Q/s1600-h/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_028.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STYFk8nvO8I/AAAAAAAABGo/O_ayHeA1v-Q/s320/Day-06_Iguacu_Brazil_028.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275410145817344962" border="0" /></a>After we finish our song, one of the other ladies tells me we should sing a song for Rick. She suggests, "<a href="http://www.hawaii-nation.org/hawaii-aloha.html">Hawaii Aloha</a>." When I tell her I have no idea what the lyrics are, she whips a much folded and aged copy out of her wallet!!!<br /><br />Uncle Tom comes strolling up with a coffee cup in his hand and tells everyone to make a circle around him and hold hands. Uncle Tom does a beautiful rendition of the song and we all back him up (our rendition was not so beautiful but it was loud). [Here's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_17vGYa81s">Bruddah Iz's version</a>]<br /><br />Man, we made a ruckus but it was such a wonderful and spontaneous thank you. Awwww. . . .<br /><br />Rick did such a great job guiding us around the city. If you ever take a trip to Sao Paulo, I highly recommend him! :)Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-33435920666979654112008-08-27T07:39:00.000-07:002008-12-02T19:40:56.752-08:00How Many Pillows Do you Use?My roommate Meredith had left the day before, so I used all four pillows when I went to sleep.<br /><br />Robert Tanaka was aghast when I told him how much I love an excess of pillows. We had a long discussion/argument about how to properly use pillows. He argued that one pillow is all you need. I think 3-4 are perfect.<br /><br />Any thoughts on this?Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-9651794407399624372008-08-26T23:37:00.000-07:002008-12-02T19:36:51.752-08:00Part III: Drinks with Mary & KozueAfter we get back from dinner, I meet up with Mary Nakada (Peru) and Kozue Uehara (Okinawa).<br /><br />We go searching for a bar that has over 500 different kinds of caipirinha. We catch a cab and start going through some really scary neighborhoods.<br /><br />The driver cannot find the bar so we just get out at a place that is hopping with nightclubs and bars. We go to a little place with locals dancing and singing like mad. We have a great time catching up.<br />The guys at the next table try to chat us up but we politely decline. Not speaking portuguese, it was kinda funny because they were communicating solely by drawing on drink napkins. Now, if they had done interpretive dance, I might have been interested. :)Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5347787610142408819.post-40215403049184161492008-08-26T20:00:00.000-07:002008-12-02T19:31:13.302-08:00Part II: Brasil a GostoLonely Planet said that a MUST was dinner at <a href="http://www.brasilagosto.com.br/">Brasil a Gosto</a>, a slow food restaurant specializing in regional cuisine, in the Jardines area. Clarence and I decided to check it out. Ran into Hiromichi Nago and invited him and Chikako to join us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX8I8OQoVI/AAAAAAAABFQ/e-V-0nZPEaw/s1600-h/Day-05_Dinner_006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX8I8OQoVI/AAAAAAAABFQ/e-V-0nZPEaw/s200/Day-05_Dinner_006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275399769069494610" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7dSSwSNI/AAAAAAAABEQ/MQP4WU7seuI/s1600-h/Day-05_Dinner_008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7dSSwSNI/AAAAAAAABEQ/MQP4WU7seuI/s200/Day-05_Dinner_008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275399019079682258" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7dvBL9UI/AAAAAAAABEY/kwcYPHaKnaY/s1600-h/Day-05_Dinner_009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7dvBL9UI/AAAAAAAABEY/kwcYPHaKnaY/s200/Day-05_Dinner_009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275399026790626626" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I got the concierge to BEG and PLEAD with the manager to give us a seating. I have no shame when it comes to food. :) The meal started with the manager telling us that they believe the have a social responsiblity to preserve the cooking methods and foods of the peoples of Brazil. We got to sample really local flavors. I was so happy. I had been yearning for this (especially after all the sushi they kept giving us).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7eMkznBI/AAAAAAAABEw/oQzYOK-xu9U/s1600-h/Day-05_Dinner_016.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7eMkznBI/AAAAAAAABEw/oQzYOK-xu9U/s200/Day-05_Dinner_016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275399034724654098" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7d31IwZI/AAAAAAAABEg/Yb4hjT3mfgg/s1600-h/Day-05_Dinner_013.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7d31IwZI/AAAAAAAABEg/Yb4hjT3mfgg/s200/Day-05_Dinner_013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275399029156004242" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7eDi01uI/AAAAAAAABEo/hq_tI_pIOpQ/s1600-h/Day-05_Dinner_014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7eDi01uI/AAAAAAAABEo/hq_tI_pIOpQ/s200/Day-05_Dinner_014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275399032300426978" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />What followed was a three hour tasting menu that was HEAVENLY. Accompanied by Brazilian wine and caipirinha, it was the best food I ate in Brazil. I meant to write down what we ate, but I was too busy enjoying the meal.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX8IzbKH8I/AAAAAAAABFI/fJWuYV4twFA/s1600-h/Day-05_Dinner_022.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX8IzbKH8I/AAAAAAAABFI/fJWuYV4twFA/s200/Day-05_Dinner_022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275399766707675074" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7o9FMkDI/AAAAAAAABFA/aH2hQDUn99s/s1600-h/Day-05_Dinner_021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7o9FMkDI/AAAAAAAABFA/aH2hQDUn99s/s200/Day-05_Dinner_021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275399219544100914" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7k8lDWDI/AAAAAAAABE4/RxdLni8i9bI/s1600-h/Day-05_Dinner_020.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7k8lDWDI/AAAAAAAABE4/RxdLni8i9bI/s200/Day-05_Dinner_020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275399150689802290" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2tmRMd4zrpI/STX7dvBL9UI/AAAAAAAABEY/kwcYPHaKnaY/s1600-h/Day-05_Dinner_009.jpg"><br /></a>Shari Y. Tamashirohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14800570924821681833noreply@blogger.com0