Tomatina
We wake up at 5 in the morning, get ready and pretend like we don't know each other as we leave the hotel. The room is paid for 2 and there are 5 of us. The metro arrives at 6:00, three girls sitting there tell us they've been sitting since 5:30. The city is suddenly different, everyone speaks English and everyone has a plan, the plan, your plan. As the metro gets closer to the train station the tourist to local ratio skyrockets. Outside the train station is a line of 200ish people waiting to get in, as we arrive the cops are letting them in one by one. We sneak around and take the elevator. The train is packed, the last time I hear Spanish is when I buy my tickets. We see the sun rise wile on the train. As far as I know I'm on the first one to leave Valencia. Nobody sleeps they are all too excited. As we step off the music is thumping. Its a walk of about a mile or two from the train to the pole. The entire way is filled with people selling beer, sangria, food, shirts, goggles. The only purchase more useless than the goggles is the shirt. The sangria however is a wise investment. As we reach the pole we see more houses draped in tarps. It's been daylight for maybe an hour or two and the drunk population is staggering, some are still drunk from the night before others are quickly working their way up as time goes on. After the first giant cup of sangria I realize that a 2nd one is more than I need to join these people in their impaired state. I stay at 1 cup.
Part 1 of the event is the greased pole. Ceremoniously a telephone pole is greased up with lard (see pictures) and stood upright. A cured leg hangs on top. They are found in even the smallest of Spanish grocery stores. Some will even have one on display so that you can taste the difference between the cheap and the expensive ones. They are quite tasty. One the pole is up people are encouraged to reach the leg on top. It's obvious to everyone after about 10 minutes that the only way to do it is to build a human tower and cooperate because there is no holding on to the greased pole. ... it's greased. Drunk people spend about one hour climbing over each other hoping that their friends will get pictures of them 'climbing the pole'. After an hour people start to cooperate a little bit and help each other up. After 2 (or more I don't have any way of telling time) hours of drunk shirtless men homo-erotically humping the pole there is a bang to indicate the festival is starting. From down the street (all the streets are flooded with people) a giant truck appears. A few men make sure it doesn't hit any one, and about 10 people sit inside the truck and as it goes by chuck tomatoes at the people in the crowd. Common misconception #1 At Tomatina you do not throw tomatoes. Tomatoes are thrown at you and you pick them off the ground, out of the air, and off of yourself and throw them back. The first truck comes and goes, I've found 2 tomatoes to throw, there is a light splattering of red all over the place and people stand around picking tomato off themselves. I think “well that was disappointing.” And then the second truck comes and the third, fourth, fifth... after the eighth I lose count. After the fourth I am no longer bothering to remove the tomato chunks from my face. Tomatoes are everywhere. The trucks stop near the pole and dump tomatoes on the ground. What follows looks like a tomato orgy as shirtless people almost swim in semi crushed tomatoes. Tomato paste enters every orifice. I pick tomato chunks out of my ass-crack... and throw them at people. Pools of tomato paste form in the street. After the last truck passes and the final shot says 'no more tomato throwing' people start to head back through this 1-2 mile trek back to the station. Locals throw water from atop their homes, the tomato paste of the streets gets diluted to sauce. After it all ends some people are injured, some have had things stolen, or lost, anyone dumb enough to wear a shirt had it ripped off of them, some have loved it others hated it. Many are disgusted despite knowing full well what they signed up for. Everyone smells AWFUL. Locals help wash down the crowds. You need 3 things to get on the train 1) a ticket 2) a shirt 3) not be covered in tomato chunks. It is easier for girls, they can get away with bikini tops and those are not ripped off in battle. When you get back to Valencia everyone knows where you've been. An old Spanish lady on the metro literally called it a 'shit fest' in Spanish.
Suggestion for things to do and not do:
1.Catch the first train, second if you have to but don't wait. There were many people walking back perfectly clean.
2.Don't wear a shirt it will get ripped but don't lose it. I tucked mine into my belt and that worked great.
3.There is no practical way to get to a bathroom from the middle of the crowd. Remember that when taking a swim in the tomato pool.
4.Don't wear anything that you want to ever see again. I've thrown out everything I wore to the festival. No regrets.
5.Theft is common, don't bring more than 20 bucks, don't expect to come home with it.
6.Buy a return ticket when you buy your ticket to get there. It doesn't have to be dry or even in one piece but you will have no money when you get back to the station.
7.There is a wine festival that goes on the whole week in an adjacent village it comes highly highly recommended by the couch surfers I met who went. Many went as far as saying it was more fun than Tomatina its self. When I met them at Tomatina many were still drunk from the night before and very happy about it.
8.My final recommendation is not one I give often. I heard a large number of people complaining about being unhappy about the festival and it sounds like being covered in tomato guts and trampled is just not their thing. So if it's not your thing... don't go. I got a sense that many of the people there were thinking “FESTIVAL YAY LETS GO GET DRUNK YEA YEA OZZY OZZY OZZY!” (50% aussies at this thing) but when they were suddenly covered in tomatoes were actually surprised by it.
Any way I had a great time. Now on to Madrid.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Gibraltar
I'm in a bus station, sweating, not just light 'oh you must be tired' sweat. No. I'm sweating 'I think there must be something wrong with that guy over there' sweat. I'm the only one, but nobody else walked to this bus station with all their belongings on their back. My boat departure was brief, almost sudden. 'Drop the anchor, fix the chain, call that guy in the dingy over here, *hugs and hand shakes*, *wave from the water*, “Sure I know where the bus station is. I got here via bus 2 days ago.” he and his brother are delivering a beautiful wooden boat “as the Germans say there is a dead rat behind every door” they explain the condition of the boat, I walk down the dock, realize I have everything but my passport, wave down a Brit who took me back to the boat again “don't leave your stuff unattended for even a minute, gypsies everywhere they'll steal your dingy soon as you turn your back”, “EY! EY! I forgot my passport!, *passport*, *more good-byes*, “just finished a 3 year long circumnavigation and spending the winter in Gibraltar”, *walk 15 min to the station*, “Bus leaves at 7 from terminal 12 arriving in Valencia at 7 the next morning” I understand through gestures, broken English, basic Spanish, *3:30 buy myself a drink, juice, tropical, open up my computer*, no internet. ....
“You're looking at now, now”
“What happened to then?”
“We passed then.”
“When?
“Just now.”
“When will then be now?
“Soon.”
*I drink it and feel it seep out of my pores again*
It all happened that fast. As for final thoughts on the boat? I had a good time. My Russian is noticeably better, maybe my boat knowledge as well. I'll miss the crew. I enjoyed Boris's stories, the uncommon level of honesty that Hana and I shared. Even the new crew left an impression. I was astounded by Dennis's insatiable motivation (He started, raised and sold a business in a foreign country and after knowing him for only a couple days this doesn't nearly fail to surprise me but I'm left thinking “Just 1? Well he's still young”) and Anna's (yes we found a 2nd one) existential perspective, I have a feeling that if I stayed on the boat longer we'd have had some very interesting conversations.
As with all sudden changes in my life I feel confused, uncertain, anxious, and a little scared. But you know what they say, happiness takes all forms. At 7:00 I get on a bus, I have no idea what I should be doing 12 hours later when I get off this bus. *smile* I'm excited.
“You're looking at now, now”
“What happened to then?”
“We passed then.”
“When?
“Just now.”
“When will then be now?
“Soon.”
*I drink it and feel it seep out of my pores again*
It all happened that fast. As for final thoughts on the boat? I had a good time. My Russian is noticeably better, maybe my boat knowledge as well. I'll miss the crew. I enjoyed Boris's stories, the uncommon level of honesty that Hana and I shared. Even the new crew left an impression. I was astounded by Dennis's insatiable motivation (He started, raised and sold a business in a foreign country and after knowing him for only a couple days this doesn't nearly fail to surprise me but I'm left thinking “Just 1? Well he's still young”) and Anna's (yes we found a 2nd one) existential perspective, I have a feeling that if I stayed on the boat longer we'd have had some very interesting conversations.
As with all sudden changes in my life I feel confused, uncertain, anxious, and a little scared. But you know what they say, happiness takes all forms. At 7:00 I get on a bus, I have no idea what I should be doing 12 hours later when I get off this bus. *smile* I'm excited.
Monday, August 17, 2009
puerto
The boat has changed to all Russian and turned toward Morocco. Jessica is visiting friends in Spain and Avi has gone back home. Before Avi left he asked me to help bring the boat to Tangier. He bribed me with paid transport back to Spain. He also offered to fly me from Spain to anywhere in Europe if I stay the whole way to Israel. I don't think I will. But adding a free continent to my list is not something I can pass up. I still have a week till the tomato festival. As always the plans are shaky. That's not what is on the menu today, today we talk about Spain.
Avi has lived in Spain for years. He says it's the place where Europe goes to party. All I can say is never in my life have I gone to sleep at 3:30 in the morning 3 nights in a row and felt like I'm being lame and going to bed early every one of those nights. It's not just that there is a posh bar at the marina. There is another bar ¼ mile away from the marina and along the entire shore every parking lot everywhere is filled with people. So is the center of town and the bazar and the beaches, everything. And I'm not talking about seeing people walking by every now and then, no. I'm talking about pushing through crowds of people, walking around people playing cards on streets and benches. Going past parking spots where every 3rd car has its own music going and drinks being passed around and people walking every which way. I stopped at one car because I heard music playing that I was particularly fond of and asked... swallowing my 'I'm not a tourist' pride, if anyone spoke English. Everyone helpfully pointed to 1 guy who was very friendly and informed me that I'm listening to Alborosie, Italian reggae. The whole experience was just very friendly and I felt that I'd have been invited to stay and talk if I had asked but I've had enough translating back and fourth for the time being. Still I like this place. I'm not actually in Cadiz I'm across the river at El Puerto de Santa Maria. A place known for its bull fights which Anna got to witness via 'pretty girl' privilege while the rest of us went for a drink.
The people are mostly attractive and everyone I've talked to so far has been friendly. At the beach the pretty girls go topless while the fat/old/ugly stay clothed. (a SHOCKING change from the Caribbean!) The prices are reasonable unless you're looking for water or soda. A 3 euro bottle of wine from a convenience store is all I need to be happy. There are rocks and walls and old buildings to climb and even when people see you nobody says shit. I'm glad we got stranded here for a weekend. I highly recommend this place to everyone.
I will however mention that I'm sweating my balls off. Siesta does not come easy on a boat, no AC.
Avi has lived in Spain for years. He says it's the place where Europe goes to party. All I can say is never in my life have I gone to sleep at 3:30 in the morning 3 nights in a row and felt like I'm being lame and going to bed early every one of those nights. It's not just that there is a posh bar at the marina. There is another bar ¼ mile away from the marina and along the entire shore every parking lot everywhere is filled with people. So is the center of town and the bazar and the beaches, everything. And I'm not talking about seeing people walking by every now and then, no. I'm talking about pushing through crowds of people, walking around people playing cards on streets and benches. Going past parking spots where every 3rd car has its own music going and drinks being passed around and people walking every which way. I stopped at one car because I heard music playing that I was particularly fond of and asked... swallowing my 'I'm not a tourist' pride, if anyone spoke English. Everyone helpfully pointed to 1 guy who was very friendly and informed me that I'm listening to Alborosie, Italian reggae. The whole experience was just very friendly and I felt that I'd have been invited to stay and talk if I had asked but I've had enough translating back and fourth for the time being. Still I like this place. I'm not actually in Cadiz I'm across the river at El Puerto de Santa Maria. A place known for its bull fights which Anna got to witness via 'pretty girl' privilege while the rest of us went for a drink.
The people are mostly attractive and everyone I've talked to so far has been friendly. At the beach the pretty girls go topless while the fat/old/ugly stay clothed. (a SHOCKING change from the Caribbean!) The prices are reasonable unless you're looking for water or soda. A 3 euro bottle of wine from a convenience store is all I need to be happy. There are rocks and walls and old buildings to climb and even when people see you nobody says shit. I'm glad we got stranded here for a weekend. I highly recommend this place to everyone.
I will however mention that I'm sweating my balls off. Siesta does not come easy on a boat, no AC.
Friday, August 14, 2009
more stuff
I woke up this morning anchored in Cadiz Spain. I went to bed last night somewhere around 5 in the morning. The winds have not been treating us right and the engines are for entering port purposes only. They might give at any time says Boris. This is his 7th time across the Atlantic. He says compared to the other ships he's done it in this is the equivalent of drift wood. We couldn't get through the straight of Gibraltar. We stopped a few miles short and decided not to fight the strong east winds. It's already been 2 days of “If the winds cooperate we'll get in tonight. In, is Gibraltar. Avi and Boris worry about the boat being able to make it to Israel. I look at the date and factor in how long it took us to get this far and fear that even if I get off in Malta, I'll miss the tomato festival and then my subsequent Pueblo Ingles appointment.
I can't wait to get on land. Anna says she's all about exploring with me, maybe we'll find some rooftops.
I should have some pictures up when you get this. There is a story with them that you can read if you scroll through them.
I can't wait to get on land. Anna says she's all about exploring with me, maybe we'll find some rooftops.
I should have some pictures up when you get this. There is a story with them that you can read if you scroll through them.
more stuff
I woke up this morning anchored in Cadiz Spain. I went to bed last night somewhere around 5 in the morning. The winds have not been treating us right and the engines are for entering port purposes only. They might give at any time says Boris. This is his 7th time across the Atlantic. He says compared to the other ships he's done it in this is the equivalent of drift wood. We couldn't get through the straight of Gibraltar. We stopped a few miles short and decided not to fight the strong east winds. It's already been 2 days of “If the winds cooperate we'll get in tonight. In, is Gibraltar. Avi and Boris worry about the boat being able to make it to Israel. I look at the date and factor in how long it took us to get this far and fear that even if I get off in Malta, I'll miss the tomato festival and then my subsequent Pueblo Ingles appointment.
I can't wait to get on land. Anna says she's all about exploring with me, maybe we'll find some rooftops.
I should have some pictures up when you get this. There is a story with them that you can read if you scroll through them.
I can't wait to get on land. Anna says she's all about exploring with me, maybe we'll find some rooftops.
I should have some pictures up when you get this. There is a story with them that you can read if you scroll through them.
“I'm on a boat to Israel.” Is the last thing I let people know before disappearing again. It's Friday they tell me, August 7th. We've been in completely still air for the past week. As I write the wind has picked up but we have 500 miles to go... till we hit the straight of Gibraltar. The sun is shrouded in clouds and the water is flat. We just turned the generator on and are charging up devices. The boat is a completely different experience than the last boat. Where on the last boat we lost a few devices in a storm, here they have not worked to begin with. Turning on engines is always a battle. Navigation devices are similar too the handheld backups we had on the last boat. There was no autopilot on day 1 and fixing it is not even a priority. I stare forward from my bed and see the backs of the panels that start the motors. If there is a storm I'll need to make some sort of plastic bag covering to stop them from leaking on me. The first thing I did when I got on the boat was to bleach the fuck out of the bed and the room in general because it was covered in mold. Then I washed all the sheets. Why is the boat in such a mess? This requires an explanation of the crew.
I got on this boat by sheer accident. But, as all things I encounter in my travels happen that way I've almost come to accept this. It started in Horta, at 'the bar'. As far as the sailing population is concerned there is only 1 bar. Peter, Jes and I had our celebratory dinner. We started drinking beer, then went to rum, then wine (red then white then red again) and were ordering some more beer at the bar when Jessica started talking to some people who were waiting for drinks. I went out to find a table and with some minor rearranging “hey do you mind if I....”, “oh is anyone using this...” I staked out a place for all 5 of us. Peter had gone back to the boat so it was Jes and I, an American guy, his wife a German girl and their crew a guy from somewhere in South America, Chile most likely. Others came and left but eventually the 3 of us went back to their steel hull boat and emptied a handle of rum. The American guy, the captain of the boat, and I decided to go out for a walk sometime in the middle of the night and ran into this guy named Alex who invited us onto his boat. I had seen Alex before. I heard him speaking Russian to some girl but did not decide to make them aware that I understood them. On the boat was another guy named Avi who I had talked to before, there was also some food on the stove, Russian hamburgers called katleti. They were particularly good. I had commented that they were good and called them by their Russian name. And as always when I suddenly whip out the Russian this surprised the Russian speakers and Alex asked me, still in English how I knew that word. After throwing some Russia that I know very well “well I was born in Moscow” “no I consider myself an American I've been there for quite a while” “oh since I was 7” “thanks but I know I still speak with an American accent”... etc. from having that conversation many times, we all switched back to English and Avi was suddenly a bit more interested. I had told him, and just about everyone else I'd talked to that I'm stranded on the island and looking for a way off. At that moment he asked me if I'm still looking for a boat and we decided to talk about it when everyone was more sober. I went to be after the sun rose the next morning.
Avi: Short for Abraham. Believes that to be happy in life you have to be your own boss. Have your own company and that is the only way to live life your way. He was born in Israel but having spent much of his life outside it on what I understand to be some money making scheme or another. Avi owns the boat. He's silly when it's time to be silly and knows how to have fun but this trip is his business venture and he makes most of the decisions, in sailing matters however Boris has the final word. Avi has a business back home, something tourist related. He's got a wife and kids there too. The boat is for him to fix up and to rent and do charters. It comes from Cuba and he hired Alex to go there and bring it back for him.
Alex: Aka Sasha has been, as Boris put it, dishonorably discharged from the boat. I have not actually had a conversation with Alex himself after the initial one in Russian. Everything I know about him has come from the mouth of Boris or Avi. Jes and I are his replacements. As I understand it, Alex got himself a skipper licence and after vastly embellishing his sailing experience he got Avi to hire him to get this boat. He had a budget of $70k at his disposal for repairs and expenses to get it across and from what I understand the boat was in better shape before Alex and the 70k touched it. After having proven himself incompetent at just about everything he hired Boris, an old and very brief acquaintance of his to help. By the time Boris had got there a large amount of the money was gone and no improvement had been made. Avi got on the boat in Bermuda because he sensed that things were not going as planned. In Horta Alex and one of the other crew, who as I understand is not worth mentioning, were kicked off the boat.
Boris: is the captain of the boat for the trip. He was born on a boat and lived on boats till he was 16. Boris is the kind of person who will always tell you what he thinks. He lives by simple rules and Russian traditions that he tells you about if you care to listen. He does not care about money, says he's gone from nothing to millions and back multiple times. Doesn't like the land, calls his home the ocean. Has a million stories, pieces of advice, articles of wisdom and everything else you'd expect from a confident and competent captain of 60. He likes to randomly break into song or recite a poem, some of which he has written. When Avi and I talked seriously, soberly, about being crew on this boat he went to Peter and asked him about us and then told me that I need to be interviewed by Boris as it is his final call. Boris does not speak English, he understands a little though. On our interview he asked if I was handy, what my parents did in Russia, my immediate plans, if I was handy... again. Boris has life figured out, knows what he wants and what makes him happy. It seems like everyone he encounters eventually comes to respect Boris. One can not be afraid of the boat falling apart with Boris onboard. He's a survivor, and he'll hold it together with his teeth for the rest of the journey if he has to.
Anna: When talking in Hebrew the guys throw that Hebew HHHrhhhHHrhh in there and call her Hanna. This morning when I got up Anna was making breakfast, and sailing the boat at the same time, and, looking really sexy while doing it. In addition to knowing where everything is, being in charge of the kitchen, being the Avi to Boris translator, and general hotty, she's a proper sailor. She got on the boat with no sailing experience at all and now Boris tells me that when going from Bermuda he could only sleep while she was on watch. She left Russia when she was 16 and moved to Israel. She likes to draw and when she gets home wants to go to school for design. She got on the boat because she thought it would be a good experience and she wanted to see Sardinia. Sardinia is no longer on the menu but I have yet to hear her complain about anything, even Alex. Sadly my limited Russian doesn't permit me to tell her how fucking hot it is when the main sail breaks and we're out in front fixing it in storm gear and she comes running out in a short skirt, and is no less useful than I am.
Communication is a bit awkward at times. So I made a chart:
Names are surrounded in native tongues, the dotted line is because Boris speaks limited Hebrew. I'm sure you can guess what color is what language.
I got on this boat by sheer accident. But, as all things I encounter in my travels happen that way I've almost come to accept this. It started in Horta, at 'the bar'. As far as the sailing population is concerned there is only 1 bar. Peter, Jes and I had our celebratory dinner. We started drinking beer, then went to rum, then wine (red then white then red again) and were ordering some more beer at the bar when Jessica started talking to some people who were waiting for drinks. I went out to find a table and with some minor rearranging “hey do you mind if I....”, “oh is anyone using this...” I staked out a place for all 5 of us. Peter had gone back to the boat so it was Jes and I, an American guy, his wife a German girl and their crew a guy from somewhere in South America, Chile most likely. Others came and left but eventually the 3 of us went back to their steel hull boat and emptied a handle of rum. The American guy, the captain of the boat, and I decided to go out for a walk sometime in the middle of the night and ran into this guy named Alex who invited us onto his boat. I had seen Alex before. I heard him speaking Russian to some girl but did not decide to make them aware that I understood them. On the boat was another guy named Avi who I had talked to before, there was also some food on the stove, Russian hamburgers called katleti. They were particularly good. I had commented that they were good and called them by their Russian name. And as always when I suddenly whip out the Russian this surprised the Russian speakers and Alex asked me, still in English how I knew that word. After throwing some Russia that I know very well “well I was born in Moscow” “no I consider myself an American I've been there for quite a while” “oh since I was 7” “thanks but I know I still speak with an American accent”... etc. from having that conversation many times, we all switched back to English and Avi was suddenly a bit more interested. I had told him, and just about everyone else I'd talked to that I'm stranded on the island and looking for a way off. At that moment he asked me if I'm still looking for a boat and we decided to talk about it when everyone was more sober. I went to be after the sun rose the next morning.
Avi: Short for Abraham. Believes that to be happy in life you have to be your own boss. Have your own company and that is the only way to live life your way. He was born in Israel but having spent much of his life outside it on what I understand to be some money making scheme or another. Avi owns the boat. He's silly when it's time to be silly and knows how to have fun but this trip is his business venture and he makes most of the decisions, in sailing matters however Boris has the final word. Avi has a business back home, something tourist related. He's got a wife and kids there too. The boat is for him to fix up and to rent and do charters. It comes from Cuba and he hired Alex to go there and bring it back for him.
Alex: Aka Sasha has been, as Boris put it, dishonorably discharged from the boat. I have not actually had a conversation with Alex himself after the initial one in Russian. Everything I know about him has come from the mouth of Boris or Avi. Jes and I are his replacements. As I understand it, Alex got himself a skipper licence and after vastly embellishing his sailing experience he got Avi to hire him to get this boat. He had a budget of $70k at his disposal for repairs and expenses to get it across and from what I understand the boat was in better shape before Alex and the 70k touched it. After having proven himself incompetent at just about everything he hired Boris, an old and very brief acquaintance of his to help. By the time Boris had got there a large amount of the money was gone and no improvement had been made. Avi got on the boat in Bermuda because he sensed that things were not going as planned. In Horta Alex and one of the other crew, who as I understand is not worth mentioning, were kicked off the boat.
Boris: is the captain of the boat for the trip. He was born on a boat and lived on boats till he was 16. Boris is the kind of person who will always tell you what he thinks. He lives by simple rules and Russian traditions that he tells you about if you care to listen. He does not care about money, says he's gone from nothing to millions and back multiple times. Doesn't like the land, calls his home the ocean. Has a million stories, pieces of advice, articles of wisdom and everything else you'd expect from a confident and competent captain of 60. He likes to randomly break into song or recite a poem, some of which he has written. When Avi and I talked seriously, soberly, about being crew on this boat he went to Peter and asked him about us and then told me that I need to be interviewed by Boris as it is his final call. Boris does not speak English, he understands a little though. On our interview he asked if I was handy, what my parents did in Russia, my immediate plans, if I was handy... again. Boris has life figured out, knows what he wants and what makes him happy. It seems like everyone he encounters eventually comes to respect Boris. One can not be afraid of the boat falling apart with Boris onboard. He's a survivor, and he'll hold it together with his teeth for the rest of the journey if he has to.
Anna: When talking in Hebrew the guys throw that Hebew HHHrhhhHHrhh in there and call her Hanna. This morning when I got up Anna was making breakfast, and sailing the boat at the same time, and, looking really sexy while doing it. In addition to knowing where everything is, being in charge of the kitchen, being the Avi to Boris translator, and general hotty, she's a proper sailor. She got on the boat with no sailing experience at all and now Boris tells me that when going from Bermuda he could only sleep while she was on watch. She left Russia when she was 16 and moved to Israel. She likes to draw and when she gets home wants to go to school for design. She got on the boat because she thought it would be a good experience and she wanted to see Sardinia. Sardinia is no longer on the menu but I have yet to hear her complain about anything, even Alex. Sadly my limited Russian doesn't permit me to tell her how fucking hot it is when the main sail breaks and we're out in front fixing it in storm gear and she comes running out in a short skirt, and is no less useful than I am.
Communication is a bit awkward at times. So I made a chart:
Names are surrounded in native tongues, the dotted line is because Boris speaks limited Hebrew. I'm sure you can guess what color is what language.
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