"His eyes seem so glazed, as he flies on the wings of a dream"

For the uninitiated or non-Iron Maiden fans out there (yeah right, as if there are any!) the title of today's entry can be found in one of Maiden's many pseudo-historical rock ballads, "The Flight of Icarus." But before we get down to business we should probably brush up on our Greek mythology. I don't mean to suggest that you are anything less than an expert in Greek mythology, but I needed to reread the story of Icarus and I'd like to make sure we are all on the same page.

Anonymous Reader - This is a blog about your crackpot idea to go to Peru, right?

Andrew - Yes, I'll get to the point eventually. And, c'mon, what's the rush? It's not like you have somewhere to be right?

Anonymous Reader - Well, I was thinking about checking out that new Tom Cruise/Cameron Diaz flick...

Andrew - Me too! Except here it is called "Encuentro Explosivo." I guess the pun-tastic title of "Knight and Day" doesn't translate too well, but really, is "Explosive Encounter" the best they could come up with? Just stick around a little bit longer, I hear the movie wasn't that good.

Anonymous Reader - Oh, hmm. Well I sorta need to....wash my goldfish?

Whatever! We don't need that "Negative Nataly" attitude bringing us down (it is surprisingly hard to find a Spanish name that starts with "n"). As I was saying, Icarus was the son of Daedalus, a master Athenian craftsman. The tyrannical (wouldn't it be fun if that referred to the quality of being like a Tyrannosaurus? Maybe I'm the only one who would find that delightful.) King Minos exiled and imprisoned Daedalus and Icarus on the island of Crete. To help Icarus escape, Daedalus whipped up a set of wings made from wax and feathers. He warned his son not to fly too close to the sun because the melting wax would compromise the structural integrity of the wings. Were I Icarus, I would be thinking "Thanks for the present, dad. I'm blown away that you were able to fashion flight worthy wings out of only wax and feathers. Where did you even find enough wax and feathers? Due to the fact that they are untested and not made from aircraft-grade aluminum - and the fact that you are a master craftsman who knows his stuff and I'm just a punk kid who watches too much "Teenage Mutant Gladiator Turtles" - I will heed your advice and not fly too close to the sun." Of course, we all know what adventurous little Icarus did. He was enthralled by the sun and flew too close to it. The wings melted and Icarus fell into the sea. And what does he get for that brash behavior? They name the Icarian Sea after him.

The reason I bring this up is because next week I will become a sort of Icarus. Melissa will be leaving for four weeks to manage Fronteras Huaraz, the international art festival she has been planning. Up until this point, we have shared duties in coordinating the Buena Voz program. I have been been mostly just supporting her (as I have harped on many a time, actually working in Spanish is easier said than done. Well, Spanish involves speaking, so maybe it's easier done than said? I do love a good word play!), but her absence will necessitate me taking the reigns for a month. Susana has played the role of Daedalus and fashioned Melissa and I a lovely set of wax/feather wings, and now it is time for me to fly. I will be using these wings to direct the spending of the budget (and hopefully snag a few good deals to improve the financial position of Buena Voz), coordinate workshops and a 200-person field trip, and support the teachers and youth coordinators in the program. I will also be increasing outreach to potential corporate sponsors and planning a fundraising event. And you better believe I will not be flying too close to the proverbial sun. Melissa has organized everything for her absence so it shouldn't be too hard, but I still plan to exercise caution since I'll be in charge of a $55K budget and 8 schools. I know, what are they thinking letting me handle all this? I think I'll be fine until Melissa gets back. It's not the nature of the activities that I find daunting, but rather operating within a foreign system. Will I be getting the best deal on catering for the event? Does the cement company sponsor mind if I allocate the cost of the t-shirts to their donations? Do I need to acquire a roof dog for the fundraiser? It should be an excellent learning experience, but I really hope to not have the ocean here named after me when Melissa gets back.

Now I would like to completely shift gears and talk about a product which I find intriguing, Nestle Milo. Milo is packaged in a green coffee-like can and has a picture of an active person doing active things on the outside. The tag line says that inside you will find "the taste of energy." After having licked a tiny bit of battery acid when I was younger (sorry Mom and Dad), I sincerely hoped that Milo did not have the taste of energy I was imagining. Fortunately, it's a chunky, chocolate powder similar to Nestle Quik. However, unlike Quik, this powder is extremely crunchy because the primary ingredient is barley malt. It is meant to be mixed with hot or cold milk and served as a nutritious breakfast. I am not sure how nutritious it actually is, but the can boasts of the nutritive properties of the additive "Actigen-E." Well I'm sold. I first discovered Milo at the Casona breakfasts, but I didn't try it because I am not a huge fan of drinking my breakfast. One day I was speaking with Reece, one half of my favorite Australian-Kiwi couple, and he told me that Milo is insanely popular in Australia. Then Jemma, the other half of this couple, told me about how she would sneak into her school's kitchen to eat spoonfuls of the stuff straight. I knew I had to try it. So I bought a modest portion of Milo and brought it to work with me, armed with a spoon from a kitchen. I scooped a healthy portion and and took a bite. It starts very crunchy and light before it dissolves into a tasty chocolate mush. The chocolate flavor is superior to Quik in my estimation (plus you have the power of Actigen-E on your side), but it was the crunch that won me over. In fact, I am crunching my way through some Milo right now. I don't think it has the taste of energy (more like the taste of chocolate), but then again I am not working on Madison avenue. Next time you see Milo in your comings and goings, I suggest you give it a shot, perhaps on an ice cream cone. Or as the Milo website suggests, have your muesli with Milo. What a tongue twister, Nestle!