Tuesday, October 27

Baby Duckies!

Things I did this week:

Went for a run and discovered the most amazing park with a track, baby ducks, rollerbladers, and paddle boats. A man saved a baby duckling crossing the street and reunited it with his Mama Swan. So cute!

Fixed my laptop. It must have fallen (even though I don't recall dropping it) and my ethernet cable snapped. You should have heard me trying to explain this to the computer shop guys in spanish!

Went to an electronic tango concert with a Venezuelan friend I met through frisbee.

Hit up Barrio Chino after our game for my very first chicken and rice in this city. The Chinese lady gave us a much needed chopstick lesson.

Les and the chopstick teacher


Lionesses!

Papita's first time ever using chopsticks

Joined Sarah, her Argentine boyfriend, his friends and exchange student for a quiet afternoon at his family’s Jewish country club-like isla. I had my first kosher hamburger.

Field of a Thousand Mosquitos


Tigre!

Sarah's boy and his friend hard at work...well one of them is!

Kosher BBQ (Chairs are empty because everyone's to the right eating)


(Drum roll please…)

Bought my ticket to Colombia! There’s a huge international Frisbee tournament in Medellin and I’m going to spend my birthday there. I’m leaving Nov 24 and returning Dec 10 to Buenos Aires. SO EXCITED! http://www.tepmedellin.com/web/ingles

Cultural Differences Part I

Argentina is a third world country. Let’s just throw that out there before I start talking about cultural differences. Anyway, I’ve been here for 3 months and I guess it’s time for a brief compare and contrast. Here's Part I:

Portenos use a different clock.

Literally. Everything here is on the 24 hour clock. You would never, for example, say “Hey let’s meet at 18 o’clock” but when you write 6 pm, it’s easier to say 18 instead.

Expect your Argentine friends/colleagues/teammates/professors etc a half hour later than scheduled. This usually works out in my favor, but not when I show up to my 8:30 am class and wait around for the professor to come in with the test an hour later.

They also eat LATE! You will not find a restaurant open at 7, when we usually eat dinner. Most families eat at 9 or 10 (excuse me, 21 or 22). This is one custom I don’t think I’ll adopt- I really hate sleeping on a full stomach!

The American Eat-and-Run

When you go to a restaurant, cafĂ©, or bar, you have to practically hunt down the waiter for the check. They will not give it to you because they don’t want you to feel rushed, even if there’s a line around the corner. I remember Sarah and I got ice cream with David and we finished and got up to leave. He didn’t understand why we were leaving since we were mid conversation. It was just reflex. We order, we eat, we go.

Lines

I’ve only eaten fast food in BsAs twice, and twice I got cut in line because I stood too far away from the cash registers. The ATMs are the same way. People stand on top of each other!

Showing skin

I’ve found the dress code to be relatively conservative for a city. Girls do not wear shorts. When I wear knee length dresses, I get looks. There is generally no cleavage and definitely no tank tops. But (no pun intended) there is an abundance of lingerie ads, naked massage flyers handed out on the streets, and porn magazines in FULL view on newsstands.

When I first came here, everyone said portenos dress up. I’ve only found that true in the sense that it is very sloppy to wear sweatpants. I think a better term would be “overdress,” because it’s 75 degrees, sunny, and I saw a woman with a winter coat, scarf, boots, and gloves!

Friday, October 16

Spring Break in October


Buenos Aires-Santiago-Valparaiso-Cordoba. I survived spring break! Since I didn´t pack much entertainment, I wrote almost a notebook´s worth on the bus. But I promise I will condense everything for this recap!


Little Victories

I listened to Matt Nathanson on the 20 hour bus trip to Santiago. I´ve always loved his music, but I never really paid attention to the lyrics until we left Retiro. Little Victories seemed so perfect for my adventure:

This time, I'll be sailing
No more bailing boats for me
I'll be out there on the sea
Just my confidence and me

And I'll be awful sometimes
Weakened to my knees
But I'll learn to get by
On little victories

This time, I'll have no fear
I'll be standing strong and tall
Turn my back towards them all

And I'll be awful sometimes
Weakened to my knees
And I'll learn to get by
On the little victories
And if the world decides to catch up with me
Still little victories

And that was the theme of my spring break-living with less inhibition. Not in a dangerous way, obviously one has to be cautious, but there are so many things you miss if you always say no to new potentially embarassing experiences.

Jitterbug in Buenos Aires??

(This is a valid segue) Last night I went to the salsa place with friends from my program... and my host mother came too! I laughed the whole time! But during the middle of the salsa classes, there is..well they call it rock here but basically it´s 50s music. I learned some swing in North Carolina, so I danced with a boy from my program in the middle of the floor... Among the most advanced dancers! They were practicing difficult footwork and there we were...No choreography, no lessons, nothing. Just two crazy Americans dancing to our own (really old) music. It was hilarious. We even got a standing ovation!

To me, overcoming embarassment and just saying yes was a little victory. Traveling alone was a little victory. Taking tests in Spanish with Argentine students and living in a big city without knowing anyone and making meaningful relationships has all been a series of little victories. This isn´t meant to be self-congratulatory, I just think the fact that I will no longer be a teenager when I go back home is more than symbolic. I´m finishing out the teens in Argentina and this trip made me realize how much I´ve grown up here. Here are my notes in brief:

A creative legacy

I am sitting on a red pleather seat between a pudgy porteno reading Clarin and a vintage coffee machine. My rusty reflection in the stainless steel is a blurred version of myself. I´m not tired yet, but the man next to me is speaking very loudly into his cell phone. He looks like a professor in his faded gray sweater vest, owl-like glasses, and a belly full of laughter. Apparently he is going to Mendoza to spread the ashes of his recently deceased friend. They were neighbors and childhood friends but she moved to France to become a ballerina. She asked that her remains be spread in all different parts of the world so the people she loved can have a chance to meet. What a valuable legacy! He says it is an honor to have been chosen to meet her family in the other side of the country to transport her ashes. I guess it´s a morbid idea, but I think I´ll request that my ashes be spread in exotic places so my loved ones can travel!



A warm welcome

I´ve met two kinds of portenos. Some, like the girls in my UMSA classes, want nothing to do with me and I feel like I´m the smelly kid in middle school. And lot of men make the feminist inside me feel like a machisto´s punching bag...But some people here are genuinely nice people who invite me into their lives and are excited to share the city that I´ve come to love as well. I am so grateful to those who have enough patience with my Spanish and to take the time and share their lives with me. I promise when I am an immigration lawyer, I will pay it all back! So I guess I was surprised at how friendly people were when I arrived in Santiago after an incredible trip through the Andes. I met up with Bobby and his girlfriend Sofi and couldn´t have met a kinder chilean! Sofi invited me to have lunch with her friends at the law school. They did a potluck with healthy food (finally!!) and the most incredible fruit. I went to class with them and learned about the Chilean Constitution, we got ice cream and chatted in the park, visited an art museum, posed with street art, listened to chilean music on the walk to her dance class...


Go Bananza

Oh yes I went to her dance class. We danced arabe... also known as belly dancing. This was my worst nightmare! I stayed in the back and told her I´d watch, but she brought me clothes! So we changed and I jumped right in, belly chain and all. Someone in the class recorded a video with my camera. I refuse to put it online, but let´s just say I didn´t exactly hit all the choreography! It was still fun though and now I can say I bellydanced in Chile. Little victory, check!


Little Italy?

My first impression of Valparaiso was that it looked identical to the Amalfi Coast we visited as a family in Italy. Same quaint cobblestone steps and winding streets, same colorful houses nestled on hills overlooking the water. Kennedy had class during the day so I climbed the cerros on foot and got quite a workout. Little did I know they had elevator lifts I could have taken advantage of! I wondered why everyone going downhill gave me looks of pity as I powered up those hills. When I finally arrived at the hostel, I met two British girls who made me laugh until I cried. They told funny self-deprecating stories for about an hour and I had tears streaming down my face. One explained that her dad didn´t quite understand Skype, but he wanted her to see the dog so he chased it around the house with the laptop in his hands instead of bringing the dog to the webcam. The other girl talked about her obese uncle who married a string bean Indian woman.



Once

Once is my neighborhood but it´s also 11, which is the time that Kenn and her host family gather to eat bread and cheese. They made fun of Kennedy and the fact that she doesn´t bathe everyday. The sister asked why she even bothers to change her underwear if she doesn´t use a bidet. I almost died! I loved the way they all poked fun at each other but in the end there was nothing more important than gathering around the table and sharing a simple meal. Later, we went to a bar with Kenn´s friend from her program and we drank wine mixed with fruit juice. It was amazing! Then we went salsa dancing on the roof of a boliche and I even got to whip out the bachata I learned in Buenos Aires.

Cordoba!

I had to rush back to Santiago to catch my bus to Cordoba, but the woman next to me was so sweet. She told me all about her life as a ski instructor and her family´s farm in Juyjuy. She shared her pastry with me and we talked about the differences between Chile and Argentina. She was great company when we had to wait 3 hours at the border! I met some interesting people outside waiting as well. There were hundreds of motorcyclists of all ages but I met two with Batman masks. I guess one of the guys just got married and his bachelor party theme was Batman. The tournament was a blast, even though we played on dirt fields! The city felt more like Argentina than Buenos Aires, just because there were no tourists. We had a big frisbee asado and played card games and enjoyed each other´s company. That´s what I love about frisbee. It´s not just a game. Off the field there´s a community of people who have many varied interests and stories.

There was a storm at the end of Day 1... the wind blew dust into my eyes, so I wore sunglasses at night!