This month´s CBBH Photo Challenge is the colour blue. On her post, Marianne writes that “Over the ages blue has become associated with steadfastness, dependability, wisdom and loyalty (note how many uniforms are blue).” Well, my school uniform was mainly blue (navy blue tunic, sky blue shirt, blue and maroon sash and tie, blue socks and brown shoes) so this made me chuckle. Then I remembered I took a photo of the old boys from the Jersey Militia back in June 2008. Jersey is one of my favourite places on earth. The day I arrived from Dallas, I went for a walk around St. Helier. I was jetlagged so I don’t really remember the details, but I came across a formal ceremony. Since it was June 6th, I assume they were commemorating the Battle of Normandy, but don’t quote me on that.
More on uniforms. This time, I present you two granaderos (grenadiers) standing guard outside General José de San Martin’s mausoleum inside Buenos Aires Cathedral. San Martin is one of the founding fathers of Argentina and part of his great legacy is the Regiment of Mounted Grenadiers (Regimiento de Granaderos a Caballo), to which these two soldiers belong. Our national flag –blue, by the way- is draped over his tomb.
Patagonia is a land of deep blues and greens that turn into greys and white in the winter.
The tidal range in Jersey is one of the largest in the world. According to Visit Jersey, “The landmass of Jersey grows by around a third when the tide is out, ensuring the tidal range is one of the largest in the world.” I found it puzzling to see boats marooned on the sand like this one, until I learned about the tides and got used to the sight.
I lived in the same city for the first 32 years of my life. Everything and everybody were familiar to me, we spoke the same language, had more or less the same traditions, ate more or less the same food. Although I visited other countries -my first international trip was at the age of 6-, I never felt foreign, probably because I didn’t have time to immerse myself in the local culture deeply enough to feel different.
I moved to Texas in 2005. Talk about a life-changing experience! That’s when “being foreign” was brought home to me: different language, customs, social mores, traditions and the list goes on. Food is part of what makes you feel at home. Or not. I had a hard time trying to eat this beer can chicken, a local Texan delicacy. The can protruding from the chicken’s rear really put me off.