I started classes this week. I only need 3 to complete my International Studies credits, Universidad de Belgrano recommends we take at least 4, and currently I am signed up for 5! So this week is supposed to be about shopping around and deciding which is the most fun/difficult/boring/offered at the best hour/taught by the sexiest professor.
Pensamientos Politicales de Latinoamerica (Political Thought in Latin America)
The teacher has an attitude. The first day of class he's slouching in his chair and smuggly asking us why we're interested in taking his class, rolling his eyes at everyone's carefully crafted spanish response. He's appalled that we don't know who San Martin and Mariana Moreno are... Americanos estupidos! And he checked the time on his cell phone at least 3 times before class was over! HOWEVER, as much as I'd love to drop his like a hot tamale (a food which lamentably doesn't exist in this spice-free country) I am fascinated by the subject and was genuinely engaged in the discussions he raised.
Espanol Avazado A (Advanced Spanish A)
That's right baby! I'm officially an advanced Spanish speaker! I give all the credit up to the amazing teachers I seem to be encountering and level of comfort and fun that I've found with my classmates. I already love this class!
Gender Studies
Interestingly enough, the subject I was most excited about and my only class in English, left me feeling lackluster after the first day. Maybe I'm jumping to conclusions. But the professor polled the class for who had taken a gender or a history class before, and surprisingly very few had! (It's times like this when I'm grateful for the colorful GED requirements that sprinkled the cupcake of my mind with little Liberal Arts tidbits!) Unfortunately, because aparently nobody else in the class has taken a previous interest in SOCIETY and probably just wants an easy class in English that they can blow off, the professor basically told us she'll be babying us the whole way through. YES! That's exactly why I came all the way down to South America!
Arte Argentino Contemporaneo (Contemporary Argentine Art)
Love the teacher, love my classmates, love the topic, SO excited to go on field trips to art museums and cultural hot spots in the city! I was actually really impressed with myself listening to her intorductory lecture today. Almost all of the places of interest in Buenos Aires that she mentioned, Museo de Bellas Artes, Basilica de Nuestra Senora del Pilar in Ricoleta, and Ave de Mayo between the Casa Rosada and Congreso, I have already been to! I guess I have been here almost 6 weeks now... good to know I have been aimlessly wasting my time!
Tango: el expresion de Buenos Aires (Expression of BA)
This is easily going to be my favorite class! Aside from the fact that the teacher is super chill, like he gave us his facebook and personal cell phone number and said he'd go with us to buy tango shoes to make sure we didn't get ripped off, the subject itself is just... I'm mean come on! How ould you be bored in such a class?! We didn't do any dancing today... but Thursday it's on! Today was all about learning the different rhythms and musical styles that arrived from Spain and Cuba and Africa to set into motion this sexy new mode of poetry, song, and dance. Even learned some dirty lunfardo, tango slang... probably won't be using it this Thursday when I go back to La Viruta to snatch a glance at Jonito the suave instructor. But its still very enriching to know!
Today as I strutted the familiar streets home from UB, I grabbed a $1 empanada from Chantillez, the best confiteria on the face of this grand earth, and reflected on how far I seem to have come. I can understand every single one of my Spanish classes almost perfectly (although phone conversations are still impossible). I can have in depth discussions with my host family, (except when they start yelling, then I geniuinely don't know whats going on). And I can recommend cafes, shops, classes, tango spots, modes of transportation, and tv shows to my newby friends who just dropped in with heads still spinning. Not too shabby!
Now I've got my mornings and Fridays entirely free and I'm on the lookout for something productive to fill them with. While I used to be afraid of the streets of BA, now I want to go out and volunteer in them. I just feel like I should give a little back to the country that has been harboring me this past month and a half, you know? I also stopped stalling and sent an email to Teatro Colon about voice lessons (long shot I know!) and a couple smaller theatres and studios that offer acting classes and such. That would be a REAL test of my skills(...imagine a cold reading or improvisation with locals in Spanish :O) I don't know what, if anything, will come of it but at least I've got all 8 tentacles out there with suctions cups at the ready!
Oh ps! Yesterday was the 58th anniversary of the death of Evita Peron.
"Tu vida es nuestro ejemplo.
Tu nombre es nuestra bandera."
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
The Transit Chronicles: "23 de Julio"
Made it on the 7am bus.... didn't speak to each other until about 2pm which makes about a 14 hour silent treatment.
But now its 8:01pm and after 13 hours of driving and 3 more to go with nothing to eat but 2 alfajores.... we've turned the back of the bus into a psycho ward!
I can't even stand to smell myself!
But now its 8:01pm and after 13 hours of driving and 3 more to go with nothing to eat but 2 alfajores.... we've turned the back of the bus into a psycho ward!
I can't even stand to smell myself!
The Santiago/Mendoza Chronicles: "21-22 de Julio"
This morning I woke up early and took a shower, my first all week! I feel like 5 days was enough of a record. I found a towel and felt gross enough to cave. Then we breakfasted and went out to meet the walking tour. I took some extra time beforehand to explore the Catedral. I don't know what it is about churches but I find them so enthralling, so peaceful. They are sancuaries yes, and I see people sitting in the pews silently and I wonder what brings them there. Need, guilt, fear, reverence, joy? But its a place where people come to humble themselves in the presence of something greater. Maybe its the architecture, or maybe its the music, or maybe its the little flames atop the candles. But there's a kind of peace in the air that draws the attention upward and outward and beyond the self.
The walking tour was awesome! Franco our guide isa struggling musician, which gave me some great day job ideas, and he was telling me how he just spent a year living in Madrid with his girlfriend who was studying art there. He would busk on the streets for 7 hours a day to make rent, and they furnished their shitty apartment with whatever they could find or collect. What a life! That just sounds like the ultimate bohemian romance to me! We saw the house of Pablo Neruda in the super artsy Bellavista district of town (I think I may have found my expatriate home!) and went up the fernicular to see the whole city, then I bought an ocarina from one ofthe artisan markets. Its a little egg-like flute that is hand painted and sounds like a bird/cricket chirping.
After that we headed back to the hostel to regroup and I went scouting for an ATM to back Kiri back for collecting my tab all day. Then I just took to wandering the area a little bit. It was nice to have a break from the group honestly. The museums had all closed but I browsed through the art work in the plaza for awhile until one man came up and tried to sell me some of his work. He was amazed that I spoke Spanish and said I had a very good accent! We talked about Santiago and about art and about his inspirations and a whole bunch of stuff! It made me wanna come back here so bad! 2 days was just not enough time in retrospect.
Hung out at the hostel barbeque with our German roommates and awkward Fred from Colorado! I also met the artist who's sculptures I've seen out on the balcony. He lives next door to the hostel and he's almost of all Mapuche decent. (Mapuche were the tribe of Native Americans that lived south of the Incas in Chile... there's much more of an indigenous cultural presence in Chile than Argentina). Even though I found his accent really hard to decipher, we talked for a long time and he made me a piscola, a typical Chilean drink with Coke and pisco. Then before you know it, my dysfuntional travel family has returned and I missed out on terremotos (another Chilean drink that includes pisco, white wine, and ice cream!) and heapload of girl drama! Then we're running downstairs and jumping in a taxi that takes us to an international club for free, where Jeff from Philadelphia, possibly the most interesting kid I've met so far in South America, proceeded to shock me with how much fun he was! He, Tom, this British guy who's name I can't remember, and I stayed till closing. Then we hung out and chatted in the Plaza de Armas, found a cold little perrito, and then retired to our hostel kitchen where we feasted on crackers and vegetable soup that had been left out, but apparently as Tom learned the next morning, someone had been saving.. oops! I turned in about 5:45am and was woken by Erica as 6:45am to pack, checkout, pay up, and get to the bus... all in a lovely early morning haze. I think I fell asleep standing in the elevator!
We arrived at the bus station only to be told that our bus was late (SHOCKER!) and to come back in an hour. We do so... only to be told the pass through the mountains is closed and they aren't sending buses out till 10:30. So we wait in the cold some more, and eventually our little soccer van arrives and we squish in. Now, I'm surviving on crackers and 40 minutes of sleep so I try to conk out in the back of most uncomfortable car ride of my life. But suddenly I wake up to the sounds of loud fast Spanish and the knowledge that our vehicle is no longer in motion. Border Patrol had stopped everyone because the pass was still closed due to the snow last night! After pulling off the road for a few frantic, exasperated minutes which involved calculating the cost of airfare, our bus driver decides to turn around and give it another shot.... VICTORY!
So right now I'm driving back through the twisty, turbulent road through the most majestic natural beauties I think my eyes have ever whitnessed. Its not like I haven't ever seen snow or mountains.... but seeing the Andes I feel like I've never known what a mountain really is! Today these gargantuous beasts are covered in powdered sugar, but they are not bothered by it because in their timeless existence the snow has drifted in and out every season, while they, these monstrous protusions of ancient earth have remained and will continue to remain peacfully in imposing awe for centuries.
Driving through them... rather dangerous though. I guess the icy roads, steep cliffs, winding turns, and lack of tire traction is enough to make even an Argentina driver slow down (and a lapsed Catholic make the sign of the cross). Right now we are sitting at the border of Chile and Argentina. It's 4:30, when we should be in Mendoza already touring the chocolate factory. It is freeeeeeeeeeeeezing outside! I bought a waterbottle to combat the lightheadedness that I can't tell if its from lack of sleep or altitude sickness, and as I stood outside to drink it, I literally watched it form ice crystals and begin to freeze in my hand! What does that mean my blood is doing right now??
As beautiful and thrilling as this transit adventure is... its frigid and harsh to the point of danger outside and clusterfuck after clusterfuck on the roads makes me just want to get back to my warm, friendly Argentine-peso-filled Buenos Aires apartment. My room and my shower and my kitchen and my bed seem so far away right now...
I HATE SOUTH AMERICAN TRANSPORTATION!
Needless to say we missed our connecting bus from Mendoza to Buenos Aires, and the bus company won't refund our tickets. Doesn't matter cuz the last bus to BA just left and we have to spend the night here anyway. It was like 10 pm when we got in and the stress and frustration finally got the better of al of us. Tempers are flaring and dogs are eating dogs right now. Luckily Savigliano Hostel is right next to the station and the people there are warm and hospitable and have room to take us frazzled and frozen travelers in for the night. We have to buy another $60 bus ticket for the 7am bus tomorrow, which doesn't put us back in BA until 11pm. I just wanna go home!!!!!!!! Where I have nothing to do but sip a hot cup of tea and skype my mom!
The walking tour was awesome! Franco our guide isa struggling musician, which gave me some great day job ideas, and he was telling me how he just spent a year living in Madrid with his girlfriend who was studying art there. He would busk on the streets for 7 hours a day to make rent, and they furnished their shitty apartment with whatever they could find or collect. What a life! That just sounds like the ultimate bohemian romance to me! We saw the house of Pablo Neruda in the super artsy Bellavista district of town (I think I may have found my expatriate home!) and went up the fernicular to see the whole city, then I bought an ocarina from one ofthe artisan markets. Its a little egg-like flute that is hand painted and sounds like a bird/cricket chirping.
After that we headed back to the hostel to regroup and I went scouting for an ATM to back Kiri back for collecting my tab all day. Then I just took to wandering the area a little bit. It was nice to have a break from the group honestly. The museums had all closed but I browsed through the art work in the plaza for awhile until one man came up and tried to sell me some of his work. He was amazed that I spoke Spanish and said I had a very good accent! We talked about Santiago and about art and about his inspirations and a whole bunch of stuff! It made me wanna come back here so bad! 2 days was just not enough time in retrospect.
Hung out at the hostel barbeque with our German roommates and awkward Fred from Colorado! I also met the artist who's sculptures I've seen out on the balcony. He lives next door to the hostel and he's almost of all Mapuche decent. (Mapuche were the tribe of Native Americans that lived south of the Incas in Chile... there's much more of an indigenous cultural presence in Chile than Argentina). Even though I found his accent really hard to decipher, we talked for a long time and he made me a piscola, a typical Chilean drink with Coke and pisco. Then before you know it, my dysfuntional travel family has returned and I missed out on terremotos (another Chilean drink that includes pisco, white wine, and ice cream!) and heapload of girl drama! Then we're running downstairs and jumping in a taxi that takes us to an international club for free, where Jeff from Philadelphia, possibly the most interesting kid I've met so far in South America, proceeded to shock me with how much fun he was! He, Tom, this British guy who's name I can't remember, and I stayed till closing. Then we hung out and chatted in the Plaza de Armas, found a cold little perrito, and then retired to our hostel kitchen where we feasted on crackers and vegetable soup that had been left out, but apparently as Tom learned the next morning, someone had been saving.. oops! I turned in about 5:45am and was woken by Erica as 6:45am to pack, checkout, pay up, and get to the bus... all in a lovely early morning haze. I think I fell asleep standing in the elevator!
We arrived at the bus station only to be told that our bus was late (SHOCKER!) and to come back in an hour. We do so... only to be told the pass through the mountains is closed and they aren't sending buses out till 10:30. So we wait in the cold some more, and eventually our little soccer van arrives and we squish in. Now, I'm surviving on crackers and 40 minutes of sleep so I try to conk out in the back of most uncomfortable car ride of my life. But suddenly I wake up to the sounds of loud fast Spanish and the knowledge that our vehicle is no longer in motion. Border Patrol had stopped everyone because the pass was still closed due to the snow last night! After pulling off the road for a few frantic, exasperated minutes which involved calculating the cost of airfare, our bus driver decides to turn around and give it another shot.... VICTORY!
So right now I'm driving back through the twisty, turbulent road through the most majestic natural beauties I think my eyes have ever whitnessed. Its not like I haven't ever seen snow or mountains.... but seeing the Andes I feel like I've never known what a mountain really is! Today these gargantuous beasts are covered in powdered sugar, but they are not bothered by it because in their timeless existence the snow has drifted in and out every season, while they, these monstrous protusions of ancient earth have remained and will continue to remain peacfully in imposing awe for centuries.
Driving through them... rather dangerous though. I guess the icy roads, steep cliffs, winding turns, and lack of tire traction is enough to make even an Argentina driver slow down (and a lapsed Catholic make the sign of the cross). Right now we are sitting at the border of Chile and Argentina. It's 4:30, when we should be in Mendoza already touring the chocolate factory. It is freeeeeeeeeeeeezing outside! I bought a waterbottle to combat the lightheadedness that I can't tell if its from lack of sleep or altitude sickness, and as I stood outside to drink it, I literally watched it form ice crystals and begin to freeze in my hand! What does that mean my blood is doing right now??
As beautiful and thrilling as this transit adventure is... its frigid and harsh to the point of danger outside and clusterfuck after clusterfuck on the roads makes me just want to get back to my warm, friendly Argentine-peso-filled Buenos Aires apartment. My room and my shower and my kitchen and my bed seem so far away right now...
I HATE SOUTH AMERICAN TRANSPORTATION!
Needless to say we missed our connecting bus from Mendoza to Buenos Aires, and the bus company won't refund our tickets. Doesn't matter cuz the last bus to BA just left and we have to spend the night here anyway. It was like 10 pm when we got in and the stress and frustration finally got the better of al of us. Tempers are flaring and dogs are eating dogs right now. Luckily Savigliano Hostel is right next to the station and the people there are warm and hospitable and have room to take us frazzled and frozen travelers in for the night. We have to buy another $60 bus ticket for the 7am bus tomorrow, which doesn't put us back in BA until 11pm. I just wanna go home!!!!!!!! Where I have nothing to do but sip a hot cup of tea and skype my mom!
The Santiago Chronicles: "20 de Julio"
OK last night.... everything about yesterday was INSANE! Diana got altitude sickness at the highest, coldest part of the Andes, seriously where the abonimable snowman lives, and we had to pull over so she could heave her buffet dinner out onto the side of the icy road. We definitely left a frozen bag of vomit in the Argentine Andes! Then she was so cold that we had to snuggled for the rest of the trip to keep her from shivering. When we reached the Chilean border everything was seemingly smooth. Erica and I paid 2 pesos each to pee in a really gross portable toilette with a spectacular view. Then we went through customs and I had to declare my cheese because its an animal product... but I guess I looked a little suspicious because I got interrogated about when/where/why I bought it. And I'm like "Es Parmeggiana!" and Tom in the most helpful way is like "Queres probar?" "You wanna taste?"They looked at me like I was a terrorist, carried my cheese as carefully as if it were a bomb behind the counter and a woman puts it in a plastic bag, looks at me disapprovingly and pours blue chemical all over it! It was traumatic!
Eventually we made it into Santiago... what a truly beautiful city! Riding the Subterreneo was remeniscent of Disney's tram compared to BA's Subte! The sidewalks are paved and there isn't caca de perrito everywhere. When we walked out into Plaza de Armas, we all remarked at how quiet it felt to be the city center! But looking at a map and seeing how big it is and how much there is to do, it is dwarfed by Buenos Aires. I understand now why people say BA is the cultural center of Latin America.
Anyway, it was Dia Del Amigo so we were planning on saving our money so we could go out later that night, and we asked our hostel girl where we could find good Chilean food that wasn't too expensive. She sent us to Donde Agusto's which is a famous seafood place in the Central Mercado. Our server was only too happy to seat 6 hungry, loud, travel-frayed tourists who didn't quite yet understand the exchange rate for Chileano pesos. (500 pesos: 1 dollar! And we were changing over Argentine pesos, so every purchase was like doing 3 math problems in your head first and then translating it to another language!) Inflation's a bitch. We pointed to a special on the menu and only after he'd taken our order and ran away to fetch these attractive red bibs that no one else in the entire place was wearing, did we calculate that we'd just ordered a $250 meal!! And we didn't even wanna spend money! It was so awful and ridiculous that all we could do was laugh our asses off, stiff on the tip, and steal the embarrasing bibs. I feel really bad but its ok cuz we told him we were Canadian!
Eventually we made it into Santiago... what a truly beautiful city! Riding the Subterreneo was remeniscent of Disney's tram compared to BA's Subte! The sidewalks are paved and there isn't caca de perrito everywhere. When we walked out into Plaza de Armas, we all remarked at how quiet it felt to be the city center! But looking at a map and seeing how big it is and how much there is to do, it is dwarfed by Buenos Aires. I understand now why people say BA is the cultural center of Latin America.
Anyway, it was Dia Del Amigo so we were planning on saving our money so we could go out later that night, and we asked our hostel girl where we could find good Chilean food that wasn't too expensive. She sent us to Donde Agusto's which is a famous seafood place in the Central Mercado. Our server was only too happy to seat 6 hungry, loud, travel-frayed tourists who didn't quite yet understand the exchange rate for Chileano pesos. (500 pesos: 1 dollar! And we were changing over Argentine pesos, so every purchase was like doing 3 math problems in your head first and then translating it to another language!) Inflation's a bitch. We pointed to a special on the menu and only after he'd taken our order and ran away to fetch these attractive red bibs that no one else in the entire place was wearing, did we calculate that we'd just ordered a $250 meal!! And we didn't even wanna spend money! It was so awful and ridiculous that all we could do was laugh our asses off, stiff on the tip, and steal the embarrasing bibs. I feel really bad but its ok cuz we told him we were Canadian!
The Mendoza Chronicles "19 de Julio"
Last night was seriously the best meal I've had in so long! Nothing against Argentine food but empanadas, lomo, and milanesas seasoned only with salt can stir an appetite to a fixed point. Our "Hostel Stoupa" (combo of soup, stew, and pasta) was cheap, healthy, filling, warm, tasty, and so much fun! We seriously just threw random ingredients in a pot and hoped for the best, and with 2 botellas de vino we were warm and happy!
So now, I'm on a tiny stuffed van, camion relleno I just named it, on the rough and tumble road to Chile. But yesterday... didn't set an alarm and thus didn't get the Sleeping Beauties out of bed and out of the house until noon! But I really didn't mind actually. Mendoza is such a quaint sleepy town anyways and I'm on vacation... so there! We rented bikes and rode around the city fro the afternoon... Now, as peasceful as Mendoza is, and as romantic as biycling through Parque San Martin sounds... it was alot of frickin work! Not to mention navigating through Argentine traffic without the necessary agression to maneuver the roads. It was an experience!
Still, the air was crisp, the city was linda, and the speed was liberating. We found Parque San Martin, which is honestly bigger than the city itself, and trudged up the steady incline to Cerro de la Gloria, a giant hill with a view of the Andes and a panoramic of the city below. It has a striking monument to the Armies of the Andes who fought a battle between Chile and Argentina. The statue depicted 2 armies on horseback facing each other peaceably, while on top a libertador and his compatriats strain forward into the fray with a huge Angel shotting our ahead of them weilding the broken chains of bondage and oppresssion. It really left an impression on me.
Last night we and our Chilean roommate Phillipe went out to this buffet... SO MUCH FOOD! I stuffed myself fatter than the suckling puerco they had in peices roasting away on the asado. I was so excited to have an endless supply of choices! Vegetables! And beans! And non-meat food with flavor! So they rolled me home, where I read my emails with a smile and crawled into bed.
And now, we're driving through the Andes pass... red dirt, white snow, blue sky, and a brilliant sun. We passed some wold horses, who are probably so at one with their liberty they don't realize how lucky they are to live among so much belleza. There were a couple of shrines with candles and flowers on the side of the road... that's how you know your in a Catholic country... but then again, what better place to encounter God? That profoundly unencompassed question mark that draws our eyes upward to the heavens hidden in cookies and cream mountains.
Demasiado para palabras...
So now, I'm on a tiny stuffed van, camion relleno I just named it, on the rough and tumble road to Chile. But yesterday... didn't set an alarm and thus didn't get the Sleeping Beauties out of bed and out of the house until noon! But I really didn't mind actually. Mendoza is such a quaint sleepy town anyways and I'm on vacation... so there! We rented bikes and rode around the city fro the afternoon... Now, as peasceful as Mendoza is, and as romantic as biycling through Parque San Martin sounds... it was alot of frickin work! Not to mention navigating through Argentine traffic without the necessary agression to maneuver the roads. It was an experience!
Still, the air was crisp, the city was linda, and the speed was liberating. We found Parque San Martin, which is honestly bigger than the city itself, and trudged up the steady incline to Cerro de la Gloria, a giant hill with a view of the Andes and a panoramic of the city below. It has a striking monument to the Armies of the Andes who fought a battle between Chile and Argentina. The statue depicted 2 armies on horseback facing each other peaceably, while on top a libertador and his compatriats strain forward into the fray with a huge Angel shotting our ahead of them weilding the broken chains of bondage and oppresssion. It really left an impression on me.
Last night we and our Chilean roommate Phillipe went out to this buffet... SO MUCH FOOD! I stuffed myself fatter than the suckling puerco they had in peices roasting away on the asado. I was so excited to have an endless supply of choices! Vegetables! And beans! And non-meat food with flavor! So they rolled me home, where I read my emails with a smile and crawled into bed.
And now, we're driving through the Andes pass... red dirt, white snow, blue sky, and a brilliant sun. We passed some wold horses, who are probably so at one with their liberty they don't realize how lucky they are to live among so much belleza. There were a couple of shrines with candles and flowers on the side of the road... that's how you know your in a Catholic country... but then again, what better place to encounter God? That profoundly unencompassed question mark that draws our eyes upward to the heavens hidden in cookies and cream mountains.
Demasiado para palabras...
The Mendoza Chronicles "18 de Julio"
"Today was... incredible! We woke way too early to wait for our pickup, and our lethargic selves plopped onto the van and set off towards the towering Andes. These mountains... my God. Looking at the postcard images alive and in front of my own eyes, with the snow and the shadows and the blue sky and the bright sun was so HERMOSA I almost felt like it was beyond pointless, more defiling almost to try and capture their timeless majesty in a 2-D frame.
We stopped at this tiny village Potrerillos and mounted up our caballos. I got this spicy little ginger chiquita, and I asked the boy "Ella es rapida?" and he goes "SI!" "Bueno! Como se llama?" Are you ready for this?? "Ella se llama LOLITA!" It was a match hecho en el cielo. She trots like I drive, always tailgating, has to be at the front of the pack, zero tolerance for slowpokes, but still an appetite that would make her stop and munch at any given moment! She was so good too! She responded to every little tug and nudge, and made me seriously look good in the cowgirl department! I was one of the few that got to run! But this trail wasn't so much a trail as it was a trek. The sights we saw and were a part of were so breathtaking its hard to even think back on the and realize they weren't a dream!
It was a great group of 7 people and 2 guides, we all tag teamed for photo op moments, but even when we got spread out from each other the careful walking through the snow was anything but unentertaining. Sometimes after a healthy trot away from the line, the horses hooves would meet a drift of snow and be completely muffled. During thoe moments, the silence of the mountains really came to life. Other than the soft trudging and rare but occasional flock of birds, there was nothing.
It made me think about how old the mountains are. These overwhelming firgures have stood there from seasom to season for 1000's of years. I can go home and say "I spent a day on the Andes," but for the Andes it was a brief fleeting encounter amongst the multitude of days in their ancient existence. There was so much tranquility. The earth doesn't need to make any sound to make itself known... not out here away from the noise of a busy self absorbed human population. Its like she was just calmly napping in the morning sun under a blanket of snow, undisturbed by the 9 sets of hooves tickling her wise old belly. Her wisdom is just so ancient and so profound it doesn't need proclaiming.
The cold was something else though! Only after we got off the horses did I realize I couldn't feel my feet and couple girls' had blue fingers! I was then very proud of my purchase of Argentine leather gloves. We stopped at a little fruteria/kiosko on the way home and bought ingredients for a veggie chili dinner tonight which we will cook all ourselves in the hostel! So nerdy... but I'm really excited to cook once again!"
We stopped at this tiny village Potrerillos and mounted up our caballos. I got this spicy little ginger chiquita, and I asked the boy "Ella es rapida?" and he goes "SI!" "Bueno! Como se llama?" Are you ready for this?? "Ella se llama LOLITA!" It was a match hecho en el cielo. She trots like I drive, always tailgating, has to be at the front of the pack, zero tolerance for slowpokes, but still an appetite that would make her stop and munch at any given moment! She was so good too! She responded to every little tug and nudge, and made me seriously look good in the cowgirl department! I was one of the few that got to run! But this trail wasn't so much a trail as it was a trek. The sights we saw and were a part of were so breathtaking its hard to even think back on the and realize they weren't a dream!
It was a great group of 7 people and 2 guides, we all tag teamed for photo op moments, but even when we got spread out from each other the careful walking through the snow was anything but unentertaining. Sometimes after a healthy trot away from the line, the horses hooves would meet a drift of snow and be completely muffled. During thoe moments, the silence of the mountains really came to life. Other than the soft trudging and rare but occasional flock of birds, there was nothing.
It made me think about how old the mountains are. These overwhelming firgures have stood there from seasom to season for 1000's of years. I can go home and say "I spent a day on the Andes," but for the Andes it was a brief fleeting encounter amongst the multitude of days in their ancient existence. There was so much tranquility. The earth doesn't need to make any sound to make itself known... not out here away from the noise of a busy self absorbed human population. Its like she was just calmly napping in the morning sun under a blanket of snow, undisturbed by the 9 sets of hooves tickling her wise old belly. Her wisdom is just so ancient and so profound it doesn't need proclaiming.
The cold was something else though! Only after we got off the horses did I realize I couldn't feel my feet and couple girls' had blue fingers! I was then very proud of my purchase of Argentine leather gloves. We stopped at a little fruteria/kiosko on the way home and bought ingredients for a veggie chili dinner tonight which we will cook all ourselves in the hostel! So nerdy... but I'm really excited to cook once again!"
The Mendoza Chronicles: "17 de Julio"
I just returned from quite an insane vacation! For the 10 break from classes, 5 amigos and I went West to Mendoza, a quaint little city nestled at the foot of the Andes Mountains. After 3 days there we crossed the border over to Santiago, Chile for 2 days, and finally after a few complications made it back to our homebase in Buenos Aires.
These are some of my journal entries, real time!
"So after a 16 hour bus ride through the beautiful but stark campo, we arrived this morning in Mendoza! Its much smaller and cleaner and I think a little friendlier than Buenos Aires, BUT SO COLD! Ana's aviator jacket is definitely saving my life right now, so I'm actually quite cozy. Today we went on a wine tour to 2 different bodegas and an olive oil factory, then out to dinner for Erica's birthday. The hostel people are so friendly! We became immediate from with a girl from Switzerland who came wine tasting with us and then shared cheese and crackers and sweet potatoes with us for an early dinner (meaning 7-8 oclockish) snack. I just love talking with the kind of people who like to travel alone and hang out in quaint hostels rather than the club-going party animal portenos who spend their time trying to pick up easy Americans you know? So far, Mendoza is gorgeous and the Andes mountains are pure white! I cant wait to see what tomorrow holds!"
These are some of my journal entries, real time!
"So after a 16 hour bus ride through the beautiful but stark campo, we arrived this morning in Mendoza! Its much smaller and cleaner and I think a little friendlier than Buenos Aires, BUT SO COLD! Ana's aviator jacket is definitely saving my life right now, so I'm actually quite cozy. Today we went on a wine tour to 2 different bodegas and an olive oil factory, then out to dinner for Erica's birthday. The hostel people are so friendly! We became immediate from with a girl from Switzerland who came wine tasting with us and then shared cheese and crackers and sweet potatoes with us for an early dinner (meaning 7-8 oclockish) snack. I just love talking with the kind of people who like to travel alone and hang out in quaint hostels rather than the club-going party animal portenos who spend their time trying to pick up easy Americans you know? So far, Mendoza is gorgeous and the Andes mountains are pure white! I cant wait to see what tomorrow holds!"
Thursday, July 15, 2010
15 de Julio
Get your calenders out.
Mark this day.
Remember it, as the day human rights set a new precedent in the Americas.
In a landmark vote in the Senate 33 pros, 27 cons, and 3 abstentions, Argentina is the first and only Latin American country to legalize the marriage of two people of the same sex.
And by some magical trick of fate, or coincidence, or divine intervention I WAS THERE to bear blessed and incredulous whitness.
Yesterday after class, a couple amigos and I went down to the Obelisco to see if there was a demonstration going on for the vote... but there was nothing. So we wandered over to Plaza de Mayo where there's always some sort of political action going on... still nothing! But as we defeatedly meandered over towards the Senate building we ran straight into a huge crowd of people bearing bright red and yellow MTD Worker's Party banners marching down Ave. de Mayo towards Congreso. We had no idea what it was all about, but we came to whitness political activism no? So we tagged along, weaving in and out of the masses trying to look discreet... or at least not touristy! And upon alighting in plaza in front of Congreso, what a sight to take in! The MTD Worker's Party, united with the Movimiento Evita, united with Partido Obrero, united with PTS, CEFyL, and Izquierda Socialista in a sea of colors and people and we found ourselves in the middle of the matrimonio gay movement! I was so shocked and overwhelmed! I saw drag queens and gay couples and a giant 15 foot long inflatible penis with the phrase "Chupala!" tatooed on the side. Call me provincial, but I just didn't think this population existed! I figured the traditional and historial social conventions down here were strong enough to keep them hidden. But no... no, not this people! If there's anything I've learned about the Argentines its that they are bold and unapologetic. And just as I saw in neon tagging on the concrete, "Todos somos iguales." How could I have preconceived that the hearts here don't yearn for freedom and equality any differently than the ones I left in California?
This morning I woke groggy, congested, hesitant to turn on the news and face the disappointment of yet another worthy cause trampled by fear and corruption. Instead, my plugged up ears were met with the news that indeed progress can't be stopped. I was so excited (and a little nervous for my final exam too) as I stomped through the frigid air to class this morning that I forgot to watch my feet. Today is also the monumental first day tha Kelly stepped in perrito caca.
Well, as with all things, it was only a matter of time.
: )
Mark this day.
Remember it, as the day human rights set a new precedent in the Americas.
In a landmark vote in the Senate 33 pros, 27 cons, and 3 abstentions, Argentina is the first and only Latin American country to legalize the marriage of two people of the same sex.
And by some magical trick of fate, or coincidence, or divine intervention I WAS THERE to bear blessed and incredulous whitness.
Yesterday after class, a couple amigos and I went down to the Obelisco to see if there was a demonstration going on for the vote... but there was nothing. So we wandered over to Plaza de Mayo where there's always some sort of political action going on... still nothing! But as we defeatedly meandered over towards the Senate building we ran straight into a huge crowd of people bearing bright red and yellow MTD Worker's Party banners marching down Ave. de Mayo towards Congreso. We had no idea what it was all about, but we came to whitness political activism no? So we tagged along, weaving in and out of the masses trying to look discreet... or at least not touristy! And upon alighting in plaza in front of Congreso, what a sight to take in! The MTD Worker's Party, united with the Movimiento Evita, united with Partido Obrero, united with PTS, CEFyL, and Izquierda Socialista in a sea of colors and people and we found ourselves in the middle of the matrimonio gay movement! I was so shocked and overwhelmed! I saw drag queens and gay couples and a giant 15 foot long inflatible penis with the phrase "Chupala!" tatooed on the side. Call me provincial, but I just didn't think this population existed! I figured the traditional and historial social conventions down here were strong enough to keep them hidden. But no... no, not this people! If there's anything I've learned about the Argentines its that they are bold and unapologetic. And just as I saw in neon tagging on the concrete, "Todos somos iguales." How could I have preconceived that the hearts here don't yearn for freedom and equality any differently than the ones I left in California?
This morning I woke groggy, congested, hesitant to turn on the news and face the disappointment of yet another worthy cause trampled by fear and corruption. Instead, my plugged up ears were met with the news that indeed progress can't be stopped. I was so excited (and a little nervous for my final exam too) as I stomped through the frigid air to class this morning that I forgot to watch my feet. Today is also the monumental first day tha Kelly stepped in perrito caca.
Well, as with all things, it was only a matter of time.
: )
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Dame la mano, Argentina
The Argentine Senate will be debating a proposed law to legalize gay marriage tomorrow morning. I had to turn off the news after hours of trying to decipher the debates and watching crowds of parents, kids, spouses, religious leaders, and regular town idiots gather in Congreso plaza bearing their orange campaign shirts and balloons and dancing to the beat of a rock band. If you didn't know they'd come to celebrate the pending nullification of the validity and integrity of thousands of individuals' private relationships, you'd think it was another futbol game.
The opposition in favor of the law is either extremely quiet, or extremely well-hidden by the media, or both! Being homosexual is not okay down here. Buenos Aires may be the most sophisticated, metropolitan, and (for all intents and purposes) liberal city in South America, but you'd never see two people of the same sex together in public, much less showing affection. Which is ironic because it's conventional for hetero couples to makeout just about anywhere they please! In a cafe, on the Subte, in a busy intersection.
If I had the authority, or the language skills, or heck even just a really loud microphone, I would like to ask those orange clad Argentines,
"What exactly are you afraid of?
"What is it that you are protecting?
"Are your own marriages really as sacred as you protest the word to be? Because last I checked the divorce and infidelity rates in this country rank amongst the highest in the world! How can you so fiercely defend an ideal that you disregard and disrespect everyday, all the while denying the mere opportunity for it to your own peers?
"Can you even use the porous and antiquated arguments of the church, when of the Roman Catholic majority of you only 20%, actually lives the faith?
"Or are you really more concerned about the well being of children lacking a healthy upbringing? If 'ninos tienen derechos a una madre y una padre' as you claim, and the only acceptable family is therefore one consisting of a biological mother and biological father, then you might as well tag on a couple laws abolishing divorce, adoption, artificial insemination, premarital sex, widowdom, oh and poverty while your at it! I'm currently living with an Argentine family that consists of two divorced single parent homes, but I daily witness more dedication, care, and genuine joy in each others' company than I'm sure most homes ever see. Are you even as good of parents as you claim a homosexual couple is incapable of being?
"The heart of an Argentine is such a wellspring of passion. Why quell it with fear?"
"Dame la mano
Dame la mano y danzaremos;
dame la mano y me amarás.
Come una sola flor seremos,
come una flor, y nada más...
El mismo verso cantaremos,
al mismo paso bailarás.
Como una espiga ondularemos,
como una espiga, y nada más.
Te llama Rosa y yo Esperanza:
pero tu nombre olvidarás,
porque seremos una danza
en la colina, y nada más. . . "
~anonymous
"Give me your hand
Give me your hand and give me your love,
give me your hand and dance with me.
A single flower, and nothing more,
a single flower is all we'll be.
Keeping time in the dance together,
you'll be singing the song with me.
Grass in the wind, and nothing more,
grass in the wind is all we'll be.
I'm called Hope and you're called Rose:
but losing our names we'll both go free,
a dance on the hills, and nothing more,
a dance on the hills is all we'll be."
The opposition in favor of the law is either extremely quiet, or extremely well-hidden by the media, or both! Being homosexual is not okay down here. Buenos Aires may be the most sophisticated, metropolitan, and (for all intents and purposes) liberal city in South America, but you'd never see two people of the same sex together in public, much less showing affection. Which is ironic because it's conventional for hetero couples to makeout just about anywhere they please! In a cafe, on the Subte, in a busy intersection.
If I had the authority, or the language skills, or heck even just a really loud microphone, I would like to ask those orange clad Argentines,
"What exactly are you afraid of?
"What is it that you are protecting?
"Are your own marriages really as sacred as you protest the word to be? Because last I checked the divorce and infidelity rates in this country rank amongst the highest in the world! How can you so fiercely defend an ideal that you disregard and disrespect everyday, all the while denying the mere opportunity for it to your own peers?
"Can you even use the porous and antiquated arguments of the church, when of the Roman Catholic majority of you only 20%, actually lives the faith?
"Or are you really more concerned about the well being of children lacking a healthy upbringing? If 'ninos tienen derechos a una madre y una padre' as you claim, and the only acceptable family is therefore one consisting of a biological mother and biological father, then you might as well tag on a couple laws abolishing divorce, adoption, artificial insemination, premarital sex, widowdom, oh and poverty while your at it! I'm currently living with an Argentine family that consists of two divorced single parent homes, but I daily witness more dedication, care, and genuine joy in each others' company than I'm sure most homes ever see. Are you even as good of parents as you claim a homosexual couple is incapable of being?
"The heart of an Argentine is such a wellspring of passion. Why quell it with fear?"
"Dame la mano
Dame la mano y danzaremos;
dame la mano y me amarás.
Come una sola flor seremos,
come una flor, y nada más...
El mismo verso cantaremos,
al mismo paso bailarás.
Como una espiga ondularemos,
como una espiga, y nada más.
Te llama Rosa y yo Esperanza:
pero tu nombre olvidarás,
porque seremos una danza
en la colina, y nada más. . . "
~anonymous
"Give me your hand
Give me your hand and give me your love,
give me your hand and dance with me.
A single flower, and nothing more,
a single flower is all we'll be.
Keeping time in the dance together,
you'll be singing the song with me.
Grass in the wind, and nothing more,
grass in the wind is all we'll be.
I'm called Hope and you're called Rose:
but losing our names we'll both go free,
a dance on the hills, and nothing more,
a dance on the hills is all we'll be."
FOTOS!
Carilo
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=192099&id=525033822
More of Buenos Aires
(Centro Cultural Kones and the Obelisco!)
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=192099&id=525033822#!/album.php?aid=187909&id=525033822
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=192099&id=525033822
More of Buenos Aires
(Centro Cultural Kones and the Obelisco!)
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=192099&id=525033822#!/album.php?aid=187909&id=525033822
Monday, July 12, 2010
Carilo: sand, sweets, and Spanish!
What an incredible weekend!
I am so blessed to be on the recipient end of so much grace, hospitality, and tradition!
Thursday night, the 5 of us loaded into Jorge's car and battled the traffic out of the monstrous city and into the quiet campo. It was dark so I couldn't see much scenery but that made las estrellas all the more striking! With the combination of being on the opposite side of the earth and outside of brilliant Buenos Aires for the first time, I saw stars that I'm sure I've never seen before in my life! Until Thursday night I'd never had the opportunity to see the Milky Way in all its celestial splendor. The sky was like a pure black cut of marble with a white speckled ribbon running through it.
We pulled over to a little country parrilla (grill) for a traditional Argentine asado dinner complete with papas fritas, chorizo, pollo, and flank de vaco. Yes, I made an exception to my American vegetarian lifestyle and accepted the grace of my host family and the labors of the asadores (not to mention the sacrifice of the animals) and ate the sumptuous meal. Las postres (the desserts), I swear this country has the best in the world, were flan, this candied papaya-like fruit, and a slab of jam/jelly atop a slab of cheese. Ricissimo!
After about 3 and a half hours of car trivia, making fun of Argentine politicians, and singing Madonna (Jorge's favorite), Lady Gaga, and Coldplay, we arrived in the tranquil luxurious little pueblo tucked among scraggly pine trees that shoot straight out of a sea of sand. Its a town unlike any I know that I could describe for you. Full of high class shops and cafes, Carilo is a secret vacation getaway that retains the cottagey quaintness of a small friendly village. And because it's winter, we literally had the place to ourselves!
We were renting a super cool apartment with 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a kitchen, living room, balcony with asado, putting green on the roof, gymnasium, maidservice, and complimentary breakfast that was brought to our room each morning! Now what's the most important thing to do upon entering a fancy room like this? I think you know the answer. Whether your 13 or 20, Argentine or American... you jump on the beds! Por supuesto!
It really was a weekend filled with juvenile bonding time though. We went for walks through the town, dragging in countless little piles of sand in our wake, although the hotels and restaurants seemed perfectly accustomed to the constant sweeping of sand-strewn lobbies. We snuck up on the roof and took pictures, which being the adult in the situation I totally condoned. I had some gym time with Sofi during the day and helado and cocoa with her and Santi at night, staying out for far too long and causing Ana and Jorge to believe we'd gotten ourselves lost somewhere in the 1 square kilometer of Carilo. Jorge took us off-roading in his camioneta (SUV) through the dunes on the beach and we'd stop at the little ballenerias (restaurants on the shorefront) for cafe and panqueques con dulce de leche (Don't even get me started on the dulce de leche! I had it for 3 separate meals on Friday. It's posing a serious problem for my wasteline.) And we hit the supermercado to pick up dinner supplies, and a Brazilian coconut that Santi just had to bring home to prove he could eat it. 13 year old boys... I swear I couldn't tell you how many times I heard "Basta Santi!" or "Santi por que?" or "Santi estupido!" over the course of this weekend.
Saturday night we had an asado of our own in the apartment and Jorge assumed the honored position of asador ("king of the grill"). I kid thee not, it is an obligatory tradition to applaude the chef after the meal has been consumed. Santi and I went hunting for politos (sticks) to use as kindling and when we returned, Sofi, who'd grown tired of homework, decided to give us all makeovers with her eyeliner! So here I am, on the balcony with Jorge, complimenting his grillin' skills when he haughtily exclaims "I am a gaucho!" and his 6+ foot tall self, wearing egyptian eye makeup and an apron reading "Kiss the Cook" does a galloping dance with his feet just to clarify... you know in case any of his machismo got lost in translation!
Speaking of translation, three full days of hearing and speaking nothing but Spanish, did wonders for my own comprehension skills! Not to mention all the useful vocab words I picked up. For instance, pendejo, which in Mexico is a steep insult, here simply means "teenager," and in certain contexts "pubic hair." Chinga, also very offensive in Mexican Spanish, is someone who tailors your pants for you! I even learned a phrase in Guarani, the native language of the original inhabitants of what is now Paraguay. God knows I can't spell it. But speaking it is much like howling at the moon like a coyote... "RO-HAI-HOOEY!" It is the equivalent of "Te amo" in Espanol.
Later Saturday night, at the dinner table I decided to make a toast thanking them for bringing me on such genuinely fun family excursion, for all their generosity, and for their patience with my much improved Spanish. So I proudly declared "Yo quiero hacer una tosta!" Between giggles and snickers, they explained that I had literally just said "I want to make a piece of toast!"
Ay Dios mio.... still so much to learn!
I am so blessed to be on the recipient end of so much grace, hospitality, and tradition!
Thursday night, the 5 of us loaded into Jorge's car and battled the traffic out of the monstrous city and into the quiet campo. It was dark so I couldn't see much scenery but that made las estrellas all the more striking! With the combination of being on the opposite side of the earth and outside of brilliant Buenos Aires for the first time, I saw stars that I'm sure I've never seen before in my life! Until Thursday night I'd never had the opportunity to see the Milky Way in all its celestial splendor. The sky was like a pure black cut of marble with a white speckled ribbon running through it.
We pulled over to a little country parrilla (grill) for a traditional Argentine asado dinner complete with papas fritas, chorizo, pollo, and flank de vaco. Yes, I made an exception to my American vegetarian lifestyle and accepted the grace of my host family and the labors of the asadores (not to mention the sacrifice of the animals) and ate the sumptuous meal. Las postres (the desserts), I swear this country has the best in the world, were flan, this candied papaya-like fruit, and a slab of jam/jelly atop a slab of cheese. Ricissimo!
After about 3 and a half hours of car trivia, making fun of Argentine politicians, and singing Madonna (Jorge's favorite), Lady Gaga, and Coldplay, we arrived in the tranquil luxurious little pueblo tucked among scraggly pine trees that shoot straight out of a sea of sand. Its a town unlike any I know that I could describe for you. Full of high class shops and cafes, Carilo is a secret vacation getaway that retains the cottagey quaintness of a small friendly village. And because it's winter, we literally had the place to ourselves!
We were renting a super cool apartment with 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a kitchen, living room, balcony with asado, putting green on the roof, gymnasium, maidservice, and complimentary breakfast that was brought to our room each morning! Now what's the most important thing to do upon entering a fancy room like this? I think you know the answer. Whether your 13 or 20, Argentine or American... you jump on the beds! Por supuesto!
It really was a weekend filled with juvenile bonding time though. We went for walks through the town, dragging in countless little piles of sand in our wake, although the hotels and restaurants seemed perfectly accustomed to the constant sweeping of sand-strewn lobbies. We snuck up on the roof and took pictures, which being the adult in the situation I totally condoned. I had some gym time with Sofi during the day and helado and cocoa with her and Santi at night, staying out for far too long and causing Ana and Jorge to believe we'd gotten ourselves lost somewhere in the 1 square kilometer of Carilo. Jorge took us off-roading in his camioneta (SUV) through the dunes on the beach and we'd stop at the little ballenerias (restaurants on the shorefront) for cafe and panqueques con dulce de leche (Don't even get me started on the dulce de leche! I had it for 3 separate meals on Friday. It's posing a serious problem for my wasteline.) And we hit the supermercado to pick up dinner supplies, and a Brazilian coconut that Santi just had to bring home to prove he could eat it. 13 year old boys... I swear I couldn't tell you how many times I heard "Basta Santi!" or "Santi por que?" or "Santi estupido!" over the course of this weekend.
Saturday night we had an asado of our own in the apartment and Jorge assumed the honored position of asador ("king of the grill"). I kid thee not, it is an obligatory tradition to applaude the chef after the meal has been consumed. Santi and I went hunting for politos (sticks) to use as kindling and when we returned, Sofi, who'd grown tired of homework, decided to give us all makeovers with her eyeliner! So here I am, on the balcony with Jorge, complimenting his grillin' skills when he haughtily exclaims "I am a gaucho!" and his 6+ foot tall self, wearing egyptian eye makeup and an apron reading "Kiss the Cook" does a galloping dance with his feet just to clarify... you know in case any of his machismo got lost in translation!
Speaking of translation, three full days of hearing and speaking nothing but Spanish, did wonders for my own comprehension skills! Not to mention all the useful vocab words I picked up. For instance, pendejo, which in Mexico is a steep insult, here simply means "teenager," and in certain contexts "pubic hair." Chinga, also very offensive in Mexican Spanish, is someone who tailors your pants for you! I even learned a phrase in Guarani, the native language of the original inhabitants of what is now Paraguay. God knows I can't spell it. But speaking it is much like howling at the moon like a coyote... "RO-HAI-HOOEY!" It is the equivalent of "Te amo" in Espanol.
Later Saturday night, at the dinner table I decided to make a toast thanking them for bringing me on such genuinely fun family excursion, for all their generosity, and for their patience with my much improved Spanish. So I proudly declared "Yo quiero hacer una tosta!" Between giggles and snickers, they explained that I had literally just said "I want to make a piece of toast!"
Ay Dios mio.... still so much to learn!
Thursday, July 8, 2010
"8 de Julio, 2010"
I can't believe its nearing the end of my 3rd week here already! It feels like it flew by, and yet the amount of learning that I've absorbed in that amount of time could fill a whole lifetime!
This week I wandered around the city alot, leisurely, without anxiety! I went to the mercado down the street from my house and peaked into the big Catholic church around the corner. I'm thinking maybe I'll sneak into a mass one of these days... just to see what it's down town Retiro a little bit. I went to and Lavalle and Florida St. and did some window shopping around the crowds of eager futbol fans watching Uruguay lose its chance at the Mundial to Holland. I cruised down Corrientes Avenue, the Broadway of BA, and saw all the big commercial theatres which got really excited to check them all out! There's a comedy playing at Teatro Gran Rex called Los Luthieres and from the pictures looks like a bunch of old white Lutherans! Yes, Dad, I'm going to go see it! I walked to the center of 9 de Julio (no the street! not tomorrow's date!) and saw the huge obelisco. It was kinda unreal standing there in the middle of the city. All of the surrounding streets edged with elegant old European looking buildings and with flashy billboards fan out from this centrifigal point. That, plus hearing the surround sound of traffic horns and watching the red breaklights circle around the roundabout around me, made me feel like a tiny little neutron in the core of a grand nucleus!
So as you may have guessed from that last paragraph, the 9th of July is a big day down here! It's the Argentine Independence Day and tomorrow they will be celebrating the country's 200th birthday! It's quite convenient that all the cafes and shops in the city don't need to change their blue and white "Vamos Argentina!" banners and signs in the windows. They just add "Bicenentenial!" Most portenos, metropolitan city-dwellers that they are, still take any opportunity they have to celebrate by leaving the city. Therefore in a few short minutes I will be leaving with Ana, Jorge, Sofi, and Santi on a weekend trip to Carilo, an exclusive beach vacation city about 3 hours south of Buenos Aires. I'm so honored and excited that they invited me!
Hasta Lunes amigos!
This week I wandered around the city alot, leisurely, without anxiety! I went to the mercado down the street from my house and peaked into the big Catholic church around the corner. I'm thinking maybe I'll sneak into a mass one of these days... just to see what it's down town Retiro a little bit. I went to and Lavalle and Florida St. and did some window shopping around the crowds of eager futbol fans watching Uruguay lose its chance at the Mundial to Holland. I cruised down Corrientes Avenue, the Broadway of BA, and saw all the big commercial theatres which got really excited to check them all out! There's a comedy playing at Teatro Gran Rex called Los Luthieres and from the pictures looks like a bunch of old white Lutherans! Yes, Dad, I'm going to go see it! I walked to the center of 9 de Julio (no the street! not tomorrow's date!) and saw the huge obelisco. It was kinda unreal standing there in the middle of the city. All of the surrounding streets edged with elegant old European looking buildings and with flashy billboards fan out from this centrifigal point. That, plus hearing the surround sound of traffic horns and watching the red breaklights circle around the roundabout around me, made me feel like a tiny little neutron in the core of a grand nucleus!
So as you may have guessed from that last paragraph, the 9th of July is a big day down here! It's the Argentine Independence Day and tomorrow they will be celebrating the country's 200th birthday! It's quite convenient that all the cafes and shops in the city don't need to change their blue and white "Vamos Argentina!" banners and signs in the windows. They just add "Bicenentenial!" Most portenos, metropolitan city-dwellers that they are, still take any opportunity they have to celebrate by leaving the city. Therefore in a few short minutes I will be leaving with Ana, Jorge, Sofi, and Santi on a weekend trip to Carilo, an exclusive beach vacation city about 3 hours south of Buenos Aires. I'm so honored and excited that they invited me!
Hasta Lunes amigos!
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
"3 de Julio, 2010"
So this morning I woke to a quiet, seemingly empty house. I assumed Anna was at the gym and Sofi and Franco at friends' houses or still asleep. But still my fresh hot espresso was waiting. I really gotta be careful, my teeth are getting stained from all this hospitality! But I donned my jersey, grabbed my face paint and was off. My buddy Teddy and I met at Cinema for brunch to watch the game. The nerves were unbearable and the game... well like the rest of the prideful Argentinos I still don't wanna talk about it!
It's such a beautiful day today! And I finally have an afternoon of my own! No classes, no consulting amongst the group. I decided to go for a walk and let one of the perritos calleros (street dogs) be my guide. Just me and this skinny little ragamuffin strolling through the parks of Belgrano, wafting through the essence of a late Argentine afternoon. I'm sitting on an aged dusty wooden bench on a cobblestone path watching las aires buenas drift calmly over the surface of a gran lago, making ripples in the refelctions of the trees and clouds. People watching here is better than paying for a movie or live sports game! And a boy on a biycle just rode by me and tossed me a piropo, for which I returned a smile. I keep forgetting those are more than just polite, they're invitations! But when he circled around to charlar (chat), he was entirely cordial. We talked about what I was studying and that he likes Brazil and how sad that both of our futbol teams lost. I held a full conversation with a complete stranger who told me he doesn't speak a word of English! I love that I'm able to do that, but I also love that people do that in general!
I really wish I'd brought my camera right now! Because the sun is getting lower and casting this gorgeous golden edge around a checkerboard of clouds and silhouetting the trees' branches while highlighting the shimmer of the wet cobblestones. My perrito callero is back! This must be his turf! And there's a pair of giant grey geese cruising through the lake together. I hear planes taking off, the hum of surrounding traffic, bicycle bells, distant shouts from little futbol jugadores, and giggles and screams from children in every direction! There's sticks being thrown, dogs barking, athletes running. A couple perritos just jumped in the lake and are now play fighting while their owners awkwardly try to separate them. There's a pair of little boys in Adida's sportswear strutting (I kid you not!) up and down the path in front of me while their parents sit and read. The air is perfect. Soft and cool, but comfortable, restful, replenishing. I am so content. This is the first time I feel at one with the city. I trust it. I am at ease in it, as are all the people moving around me.
OK this is too cute not to document! The Adidas boys have gotten bored with dad's attempts to teach them fishing and are now throwing peanuts at the fat grey geese and squeeling with excitement! The boys, not the geese! They can't be more than 4 or 6 but you can already see the confident suave porteno aura settling on them. What a thing to be born here! The yseem to move so convictedly through everyday life with the dmug knowledge of ages of beauty in their back pocket. This place is nothing like I expected. its not wild and spicy. Its smooth and sophisticated and a little tragic, but in a very haughty way. What is it that brought me here? I mean I know why I chose here, but somedays I wonder how was I so drawn to a place with such assurance but without knowing a thing of what I would find here? There has to be some grand surprise tucked inside a secret tango milonga or stuffed inside an empanada somewhere waiting for me!
It's such a beautiful day today! And I finally have an afternoon of my own! No classes, no consulting amongst the group. I decided to go for a walk and let one of the perritos calleros (street dogs) be my guide. Just me and this skinny little ragamuffin strolling through the parks of Belgrano, wafting through the essence of a late Argentine afternoon. I'm sitting on an aged dusty wooden bench on a cobblestone path watching las aires buenas drift calmly over the surface of a gran lago, making ripples in the refelctions of the trees and clouds. People watching here is better than paying for a movie or live sports game! And a boy on a biycle just rode by me and tossed me a piropo, for which I returned a smile. I keep forgetting those are more than just polite, they're invitations! But when he circled around to charlar (chat), he was entirely cordial. We talked about what I was studying and that he likes Brazil and how sad that both of our futbol teams lost. I held a full conversation with a complete stranger who told me he doesn't speak a word of English! I love that I'm able to do that, but I also love that people do that in general!
I really wish I'd brought my camera right now! Because the sun is getting lower and casting this gorgeous golden edge around a checkerboard of clouds and silhouetting the trees' branches while highlighting the shimmer of the wet cobblestones. My perrito callero is back! This must be his turf! And there's a pair of giant grey geese cruising through the lake together. I hear planes taking off, the hum of surrounding traffic, bicycle bells, distant shouts from little futbol jugadores, and giggles and screams from children in every direction! There's sticks being thrown, dogs barking, athletes running. A couple perritos just jumped in the lake and are now play fighting while their owners awkwardly try to separate them. There's a pair of little boys in Adida's sportswear strutting (I kid you not!) up and down the path in front of me while their parents sit and read. The air is perfect. Soft and cool, but comfortable, restful, replenishing. I am so content. This is the first time I feel at one with the city. I trust it. I am at ease in it, as are all the people moving around me.
OK this is too cute not to document! The Adidas boys have gotten bored with dad's attempts to teach them fishing and are now throwing peanuts at the fat grey geese and squeeling with excitement! The boys, not the geese! They can't be more than 4 or 6 but you can already see the confident suave porteno aura settling on them. What a thing to be born here! The yseem to move so convictedly through everyday life with the dmug knowledge of ages of beauty in their back pocket. This place is nothing like I expected. its not wild and spicy. Its smooth and sophisticated and a little tragic, but in a very haughty way. What is it that brought me here? I mean I know why I chose here, but somedays I wonder how was I so drawn to a place with such assurance but without knowing a thing of what I would find here? There has to be some grand surprise tucked inside a secret tango milonga or stuffed inside an empanada somewhere waiting for me!
"2 de Julio, 2010"
HAPPY BIRTHDAY KRISTA!
I really wish I could be skyping her right now but unfortunately that will have to wait until Monday when Hugo, the very nice boy from the electronics store who complimented my Spanish-speaking rather than oggling at my eyes, has fixed the charger.
But now, I need to talk about the COOLEST theatrical experience of my short, yet very theatrical life. Tonight we made a trek via two Supte lines out to Centro Cultural Konex. It's only two blocks from from Corrientes (BA's equivalent to NYC's Broadway) but a VERY sketchy neighborhood nonetheless. But this theatre... AY DIOS MIO! It's literally like a warehouse/backlot with really cool paintings and lights everywhere and they coralled us near the entrance and explained in Spanish that all the lights in the theatre were to be off for the entire duration of the show... Oh! Did I mention this is Teatro Ciego? BLIND THEATRE?? The actors led us to our seats in groups of 10 at a time, all fumbling to find the backs of the person in front of us. We literally couldn't see our own noses it was so dark! I sat on Erica! If anyone had been able to see us it probably would have been hilarious! The show was called La Isla Desierta and all 7 actors in it were BLIND! Brilliantly, they literally brought the audience into their world. We were all humbled to four senses tonight. We saw no more than what they see when they attend a performance, but oh how beautiful and intricate it was! The play started in an office, with the sounds of type writers, coffee mugs, high heels, and even the smell of coffee around us. We traveled to a beach setting with waves, wind, splashing water, birds' wings, ocean mist, and the scent of sea salt! My favorite was when the story traveled to China! Girls in sandals clacking by, a man with a bell on a bicycle, several shopkeepers shouting at hagglers, and the actual scent of orange incense and roast duck! We also traveled to a jungle with a pebbled beach and every kind of bird or animal you could hope to encounter in the palm trees and balmy breeze. How do I know all this when I saw nothing?! The actors were phenomenal with every line, every nuance, every transition. The experience was so complete and had invoked so much imagination, I forgot I was blind! Also being an non-native Spanish speaker granted an interesting perspective. I understood maybe 50-75% of what was being said. I think being in copmlete darkness helped me focus on the listening much better, but I've also figured out that I am very much a visual learner. Charades helps me ok!! But overall my first theatrical experience in this incredible city was outstanding, unexpected, moving, powerful, unique, everything I was hoping to encounter and more! Tomorrow is the big game against Alemania! I definitely have my Maradona jersey and face paint ready to go! OH! And Alejandra, mi profesora, complimented my speaking today too! POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT! I thrive on the little things.
I really wish I could be skyping her right now but unfortunately that will have to wait until Monday when Hugo, the very nice boy from the electronics store who complimented my Spanish-speaking rather than oggling at my eyes, has fixed the charger.
But now, I need to talk about the COOLEST theatrical experience of my short, yet very theatrical life. Tonight we made a trek via two Supte lines out to Centro Cultural Konex. It's only two blocks from from Corrientes (BA's equivalent to NYC's Broadway) but a VERY sketchy neighborhood nonetheless. But this theatre... AY DIOS MIO! It's literally like a warehouse/backlot with really cool paintings and lights everywhere and they coralled us near the entrance and explained in Spanish that all the lights in the theatre were to be off for the entire duration of the show... Oh! Did I mention this is Teatro Ciego? BLIND THEATRE?? The actors led us to our seats in groups of 10 at a time, all fumbling to find the backs of the person in front of us. We literally couldn't see our own noses it was so dark! I sat on Erica! If anyone had been able to see us it probably would have been hilarious! The show was called La Isla Desierta and all 7 actors in it were BLIND! Brilliantly, they literally brought the audience into their world. We were all humbled to four senses tonight. We saw no more than what they see when they attend a performance, but oh how beautiful and intricate it was! The play started in an office, with the sounds of type writers, coffee mugs, high heels, and even the smell of coffee around us. We traveled to a beach setting with waves, wind, splashing water, birds' wings, ocean mist, and the scent of sea salt! My favorite was when the story traveled to China! Girls in sandals clacking by, a man with a bell on a bicycle, several shopkeepers shouting at hagglers, and the actual scent of orange incense and roast duck! We also traveled to a jungle with a pebbled beach and every kind of bird or animal you could hope to encounter in the palm trees and balmy breeze. How do I know all this when I saw nothing?! The actors were phenomenal with every line, every nuance, every transition. The experience was so complete and had invoked so much imagination, I forgot I was blind! Also being an non-native Spanish speaker granted an interesting perspective. I understood maybe 50-75% of what was being said. I think being in copmlete darkness helped me focus on the listening much better, but I've also figured out that I am very much a visual learner. Charades helps me ok!! But overall my first theatrical experience in this incredible city was outstanding, unexpected, moving, powerful, unique, everything I was hoping to encounter and more! Tomorrow is the big game against Alemania! I definitely have my Maradona jersey and face paint ready to go! OH! And Alejandra, mi profesora, complimented my speaking today too! POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT! I thrive on the little things.
"1 de Julio, 2010"
So last night's computer malfunction was a minor tragedy. But I've been realizing slowly that while I'm here to have fun and enjoy myself, this is not a vacation. Its an assimilation. I may be staring out the window and fidgeting like a child during my 5 hour language classes everyday, but those damn words I'm learning come in handy!" While my summer program buddies are hitting the party scene hard every night, I'm learning how to buy fruit from the corner grocer, where to locate peanut butter (Barrio Chino in case you were wondering), what size shoe I am in cm, and how many pesos in costs to repair a computer charger. I'm really learning how to live down here, not just visit. I've even adopted the portena strut! I know I don't talk like a local, even on my most fluent days when I'm so impressed with myself for whippin words out like weapons in an old western (whew!), the street vendor or the cab driver will ask "So where are you from?" But I try to dress like a local, although my naturally blonde hair and green rather then vivid blue eyes are all a dead giveaway. But when night is falling and your still 5 blocks from the security of your all-night security guard waiting for a chat at your gated driveway, the portena strut is a great defense mechanism/self-esteem booster! Instead of cowering, avoiding all eye-ontact and staring at the ground (also to avoid dog poop), hands in pockets secretly gripping one's map and cell phone, lift the gaze above eye level, open up the chest, and slow the walking pace while lengthening the stride. Add an ounce of swagger to the hips, and now instead of whimpering " Please don't look at me! I just wanna go home!" your posture will cooly ooze "Get out of my way, you scum of the earth." You know what they say: When in BA, be BA!
Soy vivo!
Lo siento for my long absence of posts! I had computer problems and was without my laptop for 5 days... and at the risk of sounding pathetic, it felt like eternity! Luckily during that time I kept copious journal entries.... here are a couple highlights from the time you missed out on:
"30 de Junio, 2010
Buenos Aires gets the better of me everyday it seems! Just when I think I've adjusted it throws me another curve ball! I stand in the streets celebrating with the locals in my Argentina gear after the Mexico game, and on my way home my hat gets stolen by a bunch of kids! I opt to take the safe route home via colectivo instead of walking in the dark, only to find that my bus had just run over a pedestrian and will obviously not be transporting additional passengers! Still I try that same colectivo stop the next day, in broad daylight and with fool proof instructions, and somehow end up back at the station with an angry non-English speaking bus driver kicking me off to have a smoke break. And now! As I turn my computer no to skype my dad about backing up the info on my computer to make it virus/theft proof, I find the battery dead and refusing to charge. I feel like if I were any lesser of a person I would be falling apart right now, but in a pannicky way, I find it hilarious! WHO IS PLANNING THIS?
Here I am, 20 years old, done with college, and commencing my world travels with a 5 month stretch in Latin America! That even sounds ballsy to me at times. But not being able to check my emails scares the mierde out of me! I don't know what it says about our society that we've grown so close to our electronics that we can't stand on our own without them. When I made the discovery that my laptop was caput (mind you I stood there pushing the on-button over and over about 50,000 times somehow believing that the next time would wake it up... isn't that someone's definition of insanity? doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?) I was standing in the same place as the moment before, wearning the same clothes, surrounded by the same walls, in the same country as I was before. But all of the sudden I was naked and alone!... I don't feel like myself right now. I knew I was going to become a brand new me, but I liked the girl I was before. I was expecting an augmented version of her! Or maybe I'm just in a tight claustrophobic cacoon phase right now. I mean I can't expect to have wings like a butterfly after only 2 weeks can I? Or could it be that who we are really is entirely dependant on our environment and surroundings? Am I who I am only because of who I am to the people around me?"
"30 de Junio, 2010
Buenos Aires gets the better of me everyday it seems! Just when I think I've adjusted it throws me another curve ball! I stand in the streets celebrating with the locals in my Argentina gear after the Mexico game, and on my way home my hat gets stolen by a bunch of kids! I opt to take the safe route home via colectivo instead of walking in the dark, only to find that my bus had just run over a pedestrian and will obviously not be transporting additional passengers! Still I try that same colectivo stop the next day, in broad daylight and with fool proof instructions, and somehow end up back at the station with an angry non-English speaking bus driver kicking me off to have a smoke break. And now! As I turn my computer no to skype my dad about backing up the info on my computer to make it virus/theft proof, I find the battery dead and refusing to charge. I feel like if I were any lesser of a person I would be falling apart right now, but in a pannicky way, I find it hilarious! WHO IS PLANNING THIS?
Here I am, 20 years old, done with college, and commencing my world travels with a 5 month stretch in Latin America! That even sounds ballsy to me at times. But not being able to check my emails scares the mierde out of me! I don't know what it says about our society that we've grown so close to our electronics that we can't stand on our own without them. When I made the discovery that my laptop was caput (mind you I stood there pushing the on-button over and over about 50,000 times somehow believing that the next time would wake it up... isn't that someone's definition of insanity? doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?) I was standing in the same place as the moment before, wearning the same clothes, surrounded by the same walls, in the same country as I was before. But all of the sudden I was naked and alone!... I don't feel like myself right now. I knew I was going to become a brand new me, but I liked the girl I was before. I was expecting an augmented version of her! Or maybe I'm just in a tight claustrophobic cacoon phase right now. I mean I can't expect to have wings like a butterfly after only 2 weeks can I? Or could it be that who we are really is entirely dependant on our environment and surroundings? Am I who I am only because of who I am to the people around me?"
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