Lame

Ok so I was awful and didn't really blog after my Spring break. But for good reason- my time here has gotten better and better and so sitting at my computer blogging hasn't always been a priority. The hard part is, there are ideas and things I feel compelled to express whirring through my head all day, but there isn't always a way to articulate or even jot them down. Chile was beautiful- and such a change from this unique-to-South-America city. Valparaiso was exactly what one (or maybe just me) typically thinks of when considering this region- colorful houses, ocean smells, hilly cobblestone streets...

That isn't to say that Buenos Aires is any less authentic of course, but getting out of the city (thank you fresh air), only magnifies its strangeness. Especially with having learned more about Argentine history/society, one sees that Buenos Aires is a environmentally and culturally unique place. No where else are there this many buildings, avenues, cellphones, billboards. No where else do they speak Castellano, the local dialect that some other regions even consider snobby. No where else is there such a high concentration of foreigners or Argentines of Italian, German, and other Western European descent. In its ways of being it is also extremely contradictory. At the same time that portenos imitate New York or French fashion trends, eat at McDonalds, and watch a consistenly English-language cue of new releases at the cinema, they consider the USA, in Che Guavera's words, an "enemy to mankind". The illogicality and randomness of institutions, creative works, and mentality here has ceased to surprise me. Ironically, that in itself is an extremely "Argentine" way of thinking- to expect the unexpected. Jorge Luis Borges was one of Argentina's most famous writers, and he was obsessed with the irrationality of reality. I find he was right- nothing makes sense, and when it does, it is the exception to the BA standard. You can come to love that quirkiness though. I'm going to miss the well-trained dogs that are exactly that because people here have the sense to treat their pets like animals and not little children. I won't miss seeing the 5-8 homeless people sleeping on the blocks at night, but when I see them getting shooed by the NYC police I'm sure I will recall the tolerant and often generous attitude of BA's passerby. I will miss the ridiculous exchange rate that allows me to get steak dinners (with wine) for as little as $15. On the other hand, I won't miss receiving ONLY $100-peso billetas from the ATM's only to have whoever has to change them look at me with contempt, as if it's my fault the banks horde the smaller denominations...

I made an exhausting shopping trip on Sunday to buy little knick-knacks for myself and loved ones in an attempt to capture some of the BA essence. It's quite impossible really, as I can't bring home the material icons of steak or tango. Sure, I'm loaded up on wine and took advantage of the beautiful, sometimes tacky artisan fairs, but objects can't personify an experience. The last thing I purchased was a set of magnets, one of which simply read, in national blue and white colors, "Buenos F***ing Aires". It seems crass, and my friend (who promptly got one for herself) stated as such. But it doesn't have to be negative, because its true. How many times have I stood in amazement, or humor, or disgust, or awe, or excitement, and murmured those exact words? Countless times. Happily and with relief, but also regrettably, with knowledge that the yet unknown, yet misunderstood, yet tasted, lie in existence around one of the unnumerable corners that drip with restless history and the air conditioning fluid from three stories up, I leave this city. Nos vemos, Buenos Aires, nos vemos.

TO PATAGONIA!

Tandil: Sierra, Queso, y Caca de Vaca

The windy sierra of Tandil...

We had a fantastic 3 day excursion in Tandil through IES. Our trek guide took us to some beautiful peaks (see above) to take in the ladnscape. I finally got to see some hills! Compared to the flatter terrain in BsAs, Tandil's landscape was much richer. We also checked out a religious park with a MASSIVE statue of the Cross (kind of creepy actually), and stayed in the very chic Elegance Hotel, which was on its own hill overlooking the city. Our post-trek treats included a stop at La Epoca de Queso, where we dined on cheeses and cakes, and a night of Fernet and Coke in the hotel....after a dip in the hot tub (literally, a hot bathtub), and the sauna. It was too cold to swim, but I brought my playing cards and one of the IES chaperones brought her guitar, so we made a night of it. We spent all the next day at a natural reserve, also trekking and checking out some wild (caged) life. The upside was that there wasn't cow poop everywhere like on the first day, but only in the open could we have confronted a large (possible a rattler) snake and seen hardy cows that graze in higher altitudes.

Coming soon: Spring Break in Chile!

Vino vino vino!

Finally made it to Mendoza!!! This is a greeeat city. It's much more laid-back then Buenos Aires, and the people look you in the eye and smile when they speak (and speak more slowly!). We stayed in the well-reviewed Monkey Hostel Adventure Park, where they are known for helping to set you up with excursion packages. Receptionist Kiki was utterly helpful on this front:

Friday: Made use of local company Bikes&Wines to check out 8 or so of the 11 bodegas (vineyards) featured on the tour. Yes, I drank a lot of wine while bicycling. Yes, I bought a lot of wine (and absinthe!!!). You can get some really fantastic bottles for great prices here. Many of of the Malbec variety. Malbec originated in France but the grapes there didn't go so well with the soil, hence the name "bad in the mouth". Luckily for us, they grew just dandy in South American soil and it's one of my favorite to sip here. The tour was also just plain beautiful- views of the Andes all along the road, basements full of vintage oak barrels, and a continually hotter (or was it the wine flush?) day. I picked up some Malbecs and ohhh just a bit of absinthe :).

Our Friday night at Monkey Hostel was lots of fun- a delicious asado (bar-b-que) and plenty of free wine included. Nothing like a pitcher of red to help ease the (Spanish) conversation with strangers. We met our really sweet roommate, who lives in Tandil, along with a number of travelers and educators from Western Europe and South America.

Saturday was an adventure day. We joined guides Nicolas and Frederico, and also a French student named Nico, for a day of trekking, rappelling, and rockclimbing in the foothills of the Andes. The climate at that level is REALLY dry, so we were navigating plenty of dusty rocks (which kept sliding) and cacti. The guys were really knowledgeable though, and I felt safe the whole time. I climbed 26 meters, which sounds short but feels really really high when you are up there. I was sore for two days after, but we finished up with a dip in some natural hot springs to relax. That night we went to an amazing Mexican restaurant (Taco Tobasco) with our roommate, Luisina, and then she used her native ways (i.e. actual ability to speak Spanish and very pretty) to get us into a bar for free. I ordered a double Fernet and Coke, thinking there would be enough Coke for two Fernet's....wrong. Both nights we felt like old ladies and hit the sacks by 1:00am. The only downside was that our room was in the middle of other people's, so we had late arrivals/partiers shuffling between our beds all night...lucky I can be a heavy sleeper when I choose to be.

We finished the weekend with a visit to the "thermal pools" or water park. Warning: don't always believe the brochure! I may very possibly be a spoiled American, or maybe its my 5 year career as a lifeguard and pool supervisor, but I decided not to get in the waters here. The sun was great though, and worth the sketchy walk we had to make along a railroad track and some shanty houses after the bus accidentally dropped us off at the hotel instead of the water park. It was a little kitschy, kind of like the scene from your average upstate-NY cheaper public pools...except they were warm (bacteria!!!) and crowded (more bacteria!!!)...maybe I'm just paranoid...

Ironically the "most relaxing" day was not my favorite, but there's is pleeenty to do in Mendoza and I wish we could have stayed longer. I would have loved to do some horseback riding, and even with no planned activities the city is full of clean and beautiful plazas and parks...and lots of cheap delicious wine!

Tigre y el tigre interior

Tigre was...perfecto. After 5 weeks of dusty grime, exhaust fumes, and noisy noisy streets, all I needed was some peace and quiet, preferably as Nature-inundated as possible...and all in one weekend. We (me and 6 others) took a $4 peso, 45-minute train ride out to Tigre, and from el centro (downtown), which is right along the river, we rode a $17 peso boat to our own private island. The ride came fully equipped with a very happy drunk man (hombre borracho) who was still on the boat hours later when one of those with internship delays caught up.

We arrived to this: An acre or so of privacy, tended to by our lovely (and very thorough) neighbors, Gustavo and his dogs. From the dock pictured, a path led about 25 yards in to a vintage-y spacious cabin. It was old-school; we had to turn on a gas heater to get hot water, and all the cups and mugs were older than you. A full parilla (Argentine BBQ) was set in the full yard, which we could enjoy from the grass or our decked out front porch. The beds had that homey/musty smell- not from being dirty, but from being designed in 1975. To top it off, the head of some gazelle-like creature watched over us in the main dining/living area. Cute.

Activities of choice? I chose to spend my weekend lying out in the sun, enjoying the greens of the Earth (and lungs), the bluest sky and the (brown) water. Yoga on the shoreline brought friendly waves and appreciative glances from the many locals and visitors either rowing merrily along or seated comfortably in the larger tour boats. For dinner? Steak, claro, and on the second night we chowed on some delicious beer-soaked choripan (sausage) and pasta (pasta). Unfortunately, my senora sent me off with a fresh container of dulce de leche, so I had my fair share of the spreadable sin along with lots of cheese, bread, and apples. And oh JOY we had eggs (at times in-a-basket) for breakfast. When supplies were low, the beerboat/floating market had more.

I brought my playing cards and the boys brought their guitars. We also managed to maintain a fully powered laptop with iTunes access, but my favorite music was played around the campfire that was built on Saturday night. It should be obvious by now that we came fully equipped with at LEAST 7 bottles of wine and then some.

It was a near-psychadelic experience. Revealing and exhilerating, to say the least. One thing I've realized is that the hard part of being away from home, for me at least, isn't so much the new place or language, but the isolation. I haven't been "on my own" since my freshman year of college, and at the time I was lucky enough to have a chica mola (cool girl) in the dorm next door. I barely knew this group of equally cool, down-to-earth, interesting and creative peers, but I was surprised at my own self-conscious anxiety. I know, I'm hilarious and fantastic ;), but nonetheless I was terrified of making the wrong move. This type of mindset goes against a lot of my thinking, but in the moment it is so difficult to escape from one's insecurities. While knowing how silly I was being, I initially stressed (internally) about what I was saying, how I was presenting myself, and what vibe I was exuding. Ironically, in trying to show who I am, I found myself stumbling into words and contradictions that did nothing of the sort. Of course, it is impossible to "say" one's identity, and so we tend to announce what we are not. Lesson learned? I hope so. The surprise I felt at my own awkwardness (which probably wasn't even real) served as a good reminder and grounding experience for what I am doing here. More then living in the moment, enjoying it. Mistakes only lead to a bettered understanding, and those who can't forgive you probably aren't worth your time. My new mantra isn't spoken, but I am now more consciously aware that I am "me"- the constant, cyclic, evolving process of personhood- regardless of location, idiom, or how I like my meat cooked (juicy). Hopefully, my new friends will see this too, and we'll be gallivanting off to another personal island paradise in no time...

Or this weekend. I'm going to Mendoza with the original Iguazu crew; Here I come vineyards!

A banana palace. Productive, I know... :)

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Breakfast

I am still somewhat confused about something I observed this morning. I arose from bed to make my good ole' cornflakes and milk and noticed something strange. A single cigarette sat on my windowsill, ashy butt facing out to the other 11 or so floors (and three walls) of this apartment complex. It certainly wasn't mine, unless I am smoking in my sleep, which I doubt considering my lack of craving or preference in daylight...I was so disconcerted I started to pour water into my cereal.
Could it have been one of my roommates, my senora or her daughter? As I didn't notice it yesterday, they would have had to be watching me sleep or extremely eager to watch other people's windows, both of which seem unlikely. And as there is a littering of ash trays around the house for exactly this purpose, why would they leave it there? The only other possibility is that an upper neighbor dropped it there by chance or...scaled the wall to leave me a smoky token? There are 5 locks- one for the main entrance, one for my elevator entrance, another next to the elevator in case we need to access the stairs, and two at our front door. If I have a stalker he/she is determined and/or an insider. Of course, Ana DID set some fresh sheets in my room, but she tries to keep my area clear of smoking in general out of courtesy...

If it happens again this webcam is going on night patrol...

As for breakfast it was about as satisfying as crunchy flakes + milk can be, although I am disappointed with my juice purchase. I eyes the aisles of OJ cartons looking for one that appeared fresh and pulpy but alas, my choice is more comparable to Tang...You can buy delicious fresh-squeezed glasses at restaurants or even from street vendors, but the packaged selections at grocery stores are more limited. Good thing they sell wine to make up for it. Speaking of wine, look out for my next post on my weekend in Tigre!

El estomago en revolucion

Sooo since I am in bed/study pretty much with a very angry stomach and nothing to do but take medicine and wait, I thought I'd share some things I have learned, or in some cases things that have been reinforced, since my entry into this strange and wonderful place called Argentina:

1) Don't use a certain airline that starts with a D and ends with an elta (unless you are willing to suffer for cash): A group of at least 20 people were overbooked and then stuck in Atlanta (aka Hotlanta, according to my waitress at the diner), GA for 2.5 days waiting for the next available, ie NOT overbooked, flight. Apparently, they do this to make a profit, but considering the $800 they had to dish out to each of us (en serio, they asked if I'd prefer $600 company dollars or $800 USD), I don't see how it works in their favor. Additionally, they got half of that compensation back in the outrageous fees and mysterious "international taxes" they charged my mother when we had to switch my ticket to an earlier date.

2) Always always ALWAYS get a receipt. Especially when you are foreign. 'Nuff said. Actually, a lot of countries have special Global Refund Cheques you can request for larger purchases, and upon having them approved at customs when you leave the country, you're eligible for some decent rebates.

3) Don't give street children money, food is better. Why? Because most of them are answering to a higher power, i.e. their pimp/uncle/parents/gangleader who will most likely take their money and continue exploiting their cute patheticness for his or her own benefit. It is better to give them food or even candy directly, although on the other hand the less they reap, the worse their treatment by said "owners" may be. It's a tough call, but I really don't suggest it. I say this in all seriousness because I literally see 8 year old boys (and their bags of bouquets for sale) marching proudly down the street with their well-dressed (pinstripes and all) gentlemanly "uncles".

4) On that note, I'm pretty sure I live next to a strip of stripclubs. Do not enter bars with completely tinted windows and names like Sodoma and Play. This is what my lovably bitter and flamboyant Film Studies (Cultural Icons as Global Commodities) professor has to say about my neighborhood, La Recoleta (insert smooth Argentine accent): "Isn't eet like, the least cool place to live? I mean, ees like, there are dees American bizzznissmen, who no longer have relations to there wiiiife, right, and ees like they go to La Recoleta for, how you say, a cheap fuck?"

5) If you are a fake blonde, take your foreign opportunity (unless you are going to a very "blonde" country) to return to your natural roots. In places like BsAs, blonde hair, especially a well applied color by skilled American stylists, just SCREAMS tourist and/or American. It's also the beauty ideal, so if you aren't looking for the attention, lose the golden tresses. I blend in pretty well when I'm on my own, but my two girlfriends are both particularly Aryan-looking and it draws plenty of attention, which can lead to rip-offs and even violence if you aren't careful. The women who "go blonde" here tend to, in my opinion, get awful dye-jobs (not to mention their black eyebrows remain so) and accompany it with over-stereotypical old-fashioned make up (ie blue eyeshadow), so unless you are a natural, it is often easy to tell the difference between locals and tourists just by the quality of their highlights...

6) When in Rome, make out like crazy. Seriously, BsAs is THE place for PDA's. I unfortunately, am lacking my boyfriend, who currently resides in NY state, but if you have one and want to go on vacation, Argentina is very friendly to lovers. Slobbering on street corners (butt-grabbing included), straddling in the park, and napping entwined around one another is all the rage/norm. It's actually quite nice not to hear personal-space-fanatic Americans yelling "Get a room!", and I love that all couples, from 14 to 84, hold hands.

7) Join a gym. Considering most of the restaurant meals available to me are Italian (ie pasta and pizza) or meat, potatoes and bread, its no wonder that Argentina has a huge female eating disorder problem. It's impossible to have regular meals here without ballooning to twice your size. Don't get me wrong, I love the food- it is all delicious and well-prepared, but as someone used to brocolli, brown rice, and tofu, I can only handle so many combinations of bread, steak, potatoes, cheese, and bread and potatoes and steak. I joined a chain gym with a locations all over the city, and thank god. I've been working out more than ever in my life. I think I am an anomoly/hero to the employees, as a woman who actually uses the treadmill to run (and sweat, god forbid). A lot of chicas I see tend to walk, while on their cellphones, or lie down on the verge of doing leg lifts, on their cellphones. There's a few more active women (albeit in very nifty matching workout clothes), but the men dominate the actual physical fitness efforts here. Although, on days when exciting/interesting/any futbol (soccer) matches are on TV, you see a lot of those moments where everyone is between reps and just staring at the screen. I get the feeling that national understandings of nutrition and fitness are less than perfect, just like in the good ole' States. My favorite scene so far: Workouts while drinking soda.

8) Look down. While parks are restricted to human and pigeon access only, the sidewalks are the free and fermenting domain of all pets. Piles of canine reminders of how servile they have made us abound. While Argentines have the privilege of not cleaning up after their dogs, they also tortured with a necessarily constant fear of stepping the messes. With this comes a popular myth that portenos (with an ~ over the n; Buenos Aires residents) don't wair flip-flops in the street, but I've seen plenty of barer feet now that the warmer weather is arriving.

9) Beware of American film references as pickup lines. It seems these guys have compiled all their knowledge of the American female from American Pie. Don't necessarily be flattered if you are compared to one of the leading ladies. True it may be, and maybe your out to get lucky, but if not, know that any porteno using this reference most definitely has sex and you're supposedly easy standards on his mind.

10) Don't be offended if you get spoken to in English. While it can be extremely annoying when you are trying to say something or respond and a local switches over to your tongue, don't take it as insult. On the one hand, it can be a way of saying "Your Spanish sucks" (which is probably does), but for the most part, plenty of people just like the opportunity to practice their English. On the bright side, once you're spanish improves, you won't have to deal with this embarassing exchange so often. Until then, just ask them to repeat themselves more slowly or claim you couldn't hear instead of yelping, "Sorry, what?" when they ask you if you'd like your water with gas...

Iguazu Falls!!!

View of the rainbows and falls

The Falls and river below them. You couldn't see down more than about 150 feet as the mist was so thick...

La Garganta Del Diablo and mist spraying up from below.

K, S and I went to Puerto Iguazu to check out "las cataratas". It was a 17-hour bus ride from Estacion Retiro en BsAs and we stayed in a hostel (with happy hours!) right next to the station where we arrived. We took a local bus out to the park for 10 pesos, and tickets were around 60 pesos. If you get your ticket stamped, however, you can return for a second day at a 50% discount...These falls are MASSIVE and border Argentina and Brazil. After a short trek through a very manicured Amazonian forest you can take a trolley train to La Garganta Del Diablo (Devil's Throat) and stand at the top of this stunning display of the extreme forces of nature. From there, Upper and Lower Trails lead you to the smaller surrounding falls, beautiful views of double-arc rainbows included. There are also rafting/boating adventure options, but we opted for the more laxidaisical (and much cheaper) river ride that edges around La Garganta before taking you downstream towards the train, during which you can spy for tucans, crocodile species and other exotic wildlife. Just watch out for the tamer critters - the coati nasua love the sound tourists' plastic bags and could easily carry rabies...Can't say I was a huge fan of them ;). Otherwise this was one of the most beautiful natural phenomena I have ever seen. Quite literally a paradise on Earth...