Un Quilombo Uruguayo

This is going to be a long story...
There's a fantastic word in Argentine Spanish: "quilombo"; "In it's concrete meaning, a 'quilombo' is a brothel. Figuratively, it is a mess, mess or fuss, a flagrant injustice to the brothel industry, whose establishments tend to exhibit a better organization recognized that many business houses in the formal economy. However, this usage is biased which is typically used in an overwhelming majority of cases." (source).  Colloquially, I have found it to mean an utter mess; a debacle if you will.  Almost from the start I found my Uruguayan weekend to be a definite quilombo.  Let's begin the story....


Friday Morning
On Friday, I woke up early to what would be my last shower for three days in order to meet my group in order to catch the ferry to Colonia.

That picture has little to no relation to the story other than to show how early we left.  This was taken at about 7:15 AM on Friday Morning.


Colónia
A short walk around the picturesque, UNESCO world heritage site that is Colónia (originally called "Colónia do Sacramento" by the town's Portuguese founders) marked our first steps on Uruguayan soil.  That's really all there is to say.  It's a pretty town.  Please enjoy pictures:

The Adventure Begins...
Leaving behind Colónia, my group began our two day, house building odyssey.  At around 8:30 PM on Friday, we arrived in what would be the first of two "orientation" sessions in a school gym.  I say orientation in quotes because the first did very little to orient us (although I must say the experience of sitting on the floor with Uruguayan hippies while someone played classic rock on the guitar and everyone sang along with no food and no showers was happily reminiscent of Woodstock) and the second was entirely in Spanish (probably doing even less to orient us as a group).  After sitting in the cold for a good three plus hours, we were transfered to the school where the Sol group would be sleeping for two nights and the other volunteer groups would be sleeping for four.  At 11:30 began the group bonding/orientation games.  I am not the sort of person who is generally good at the kind of the games that one plays for the purpose of team building, but playing those games while exhausted and hungry in a second language I am by no means fluent in rendered me stupid and angry and upset.  Eventually they did feed us, but then it was a slightly suspect, potluck dinner that included a pitcher of what I would later learn was tap water.  That's right, Uruguayan tap water. I think you can see where this is going...

My Adventure
By the next afternoon, one of my friends and I were incapacitated by water-poisoning (food-poisoning but as the result of Third World tap water).  That night another of our friends had joined us in sickness.  Let me be the first to say that being unable to eat food for three days leaves one a little weak.  Being only a little bit stranded, we decided to make the most of it by bonding over our symptoms and girl stuff; but, nonetheless, this rather serious bout of illness only contributed further to what ended up being a slightly hellish weekend for the whole group.


The Group Adventure
Un Techo para mi País (you can click the link on the sidebar for more information) creates futures for impoverished families by providing them with a house to call their own.  This provides them with an address and a way to create a better life for themselves.  See, there are three types of unemployed people in a country like Uruguay: the elderly/retired, the simply unemployed, and the unemployed who simply can't get a job.  Often, the last kind cannot get a job because they lack a permanent address.  A permanent address is seen as a commitment to remain in a specific location; without one, one appears noncommittal, indigent, and untrustworthy, none of which are positive qualities in a job interview.  A house is an important first step in making a better life for oneself and one's children.  Its true that there is much left to be done to help these people (access to education and healthcare among others), but this house is an important first step in helping these families achieve these things on their own (i.e. without the help of the government, which honestly doesn't seem to be particularly willing to help anyway).
Our experience was rather interesting.  While some members of our group were greatly moved by their experiences in the Montevideo shanty town we worked in, the others were primarily miserable as a result of the working conditions.  There is apparently no such thing as half-assed rain in South America; and yes, it poured on Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning.  I'll let the following photos do the talking (credit where credit is due to Rebecca):

So yeah... this has been a weekend of breakdowns, sickness, OCD freak-outs (as a result of poor planning and tiredness), dirt/shit/mud combinations, smiling Uruguayan hippies, Spanish Speaking, rain, cold (as in 32ºF at night and not much warmer during the day), and community service.


Also kiwi related allergic reactions as a result of an aromatherapy selling taxi driver.  You can't make this shit up people.


You can't make this shit up.