oh hai!

Interesting that the last few weeks have been the most eventful of my time in Buenos Aires, and suddenly I have this debilitating case of writer’s block.  It isn’t that there isn’t anything to write about.  Though of course my memory is shit, as you, my friends, may have noticed when I forgot your name in conversation or have never EVER given you a bday present (well, I’m also stingy, but not even a card!).  So the last few weeks are blurry.  Let’s see.  Mostly I just been livin’ large.  Finding more time to see friends, going shopping, climbin’ mountains.  You know how we do.  And while the last few weeks have boasted a certain amount of stress with some finals already undergone and a few to come – getting my mind and body together for the long journey home – they have also been more rewarding.  As is my tendency, I am on the whole more successful when the stakes are high and the clock is ticking.

Refugio with a view.

The big news of the last couple of weeks was the trip to Bariloche, Patagonia that I took with my program.  So fun!  It was fantastic to get out of the city, if only for a weekend, and the mountains were so beautiful.  We flew, and stayed in a pretty nice hotel.  I got to bunk with my lady friend Danielle who is a hoot and I like her.  We did some short walks – saw a cool waterfall tucked deep in the woods, picnicked near the base of the stream.  The last day we started out early for a little hacering of trekking.  I forgot my inhaler, and probably scared all the wildlife away with my panting, and good GOD am I out of shape.  But I made it to the top and back down again.

Lindisimo! Que pajaro volando!

It was a solid six hour trek, and the last part to the top was uphill through many feet of snow.  As I previously whined, the better part of my face later suffered the wrath of the mountain I believed I had conquered.  I ended up at the doctor’s the next night around midnight with second degree sunburn from the snow’s glare.  I wore the face cream to circus the next day for my final (which I passed!) and when I arrived, I looked in a mirror and saw that my lotion had soaked up the dirt of the city and I had become a shiny, black faced, burn victim.  A-blegh.

Danielle laughs at someone else's misfortune. Watch your step!

Otherwise, the trip was just prettay and I was pleased to go.  When my dad comes we will be trekking Calafate and the national park space between Argentina and Chile.  You may never hear from me again, it is an ambitious venture for a politician and the living proof of the “freshman fifteen” to venture out into this wilderness, but this time I am bringing sunscreen.  Calafate and surrounding areas are most famous for their glaciers, should be a blast.  Dad comes next Sat.  I will post our itinerary before then.  Otherwise I am just trying to hang on through the next couple of finals and enjoy the little time I have left.

There is no such thing as iced coffee in Argentina.  I should have done my research. 

coming soon…

i climbed a mountain and all i got was this lousy second degree sunburn

see also:

i passed circus!  but would have scored higher on presentation if i had been able to move my face enough to smile

 

el tiempo perdido es parte de tu vida

Buenos Aires is a city of spring showers.  Even when it isn’t raining, it is hot, and the AC boxes that run along the towering skyscrapers sweat cold, who-knows-where-that’s-been water on the scalps of passers-by.  But last night the rain was sky-made, and the water cleansed the city.  This is the only place I have ever been where dog smell is worse before it gets wet.

The quote above sped by me on a bus the other day and it has been driving in circles through my head ever since.  El tiempo perdido es parte de tu vida – lost time is a part of your life.  As many of you who read this blog probably already know, my take on Argentina is that I am learning a lot and that Argentina isn’t the place for me.  Which, you know, good to know.  One of the lessons I am working on is not letting life pass me by, even if I am not completely happy with my current situation.  And this quote, staring me down on Santa Fe Ave. late one night, really got to me.  Although it is sort of embarrassing to admit not loving abroad, as most people seem so pleased, it is important to be honest.  I am learning a lot but I am also counting down the time until I get to move on.  Is that wasted time?  Or if these sorts of lessons take 5 months to really understand, is it time well spent?

I’ve had some pretty “slap in the face” moments this week.  The result of waking up the other day and realizing that I live in Buenos Aires and I have made friends and connections that are now almost three months old.  I found myself at a party with Circus friends last night, and while I was the only American there, I knew more people at the party than just the kids I came with.  I received an offering from Buddha at the temple (a book and some fruit, the other cleaning ladies I work with and maestra Tolerancia put it together for Buddha) and was made to promise that I would send pictures of all my upcoming trips in November (my dad is coming to BA).  My host mother shared a very personal story with me about her life – it was just a week of “yo wake up ladyface you’re abroad”. 

I have to say my personal favorite story of the week was Jorge the ringleader’s response to my line of questioning about grading.  Because of course, silly American student that I am, I was curious about the structure of evaluations.  I recently found out that the other students are all on their second semester of circus and I was worried about the final.  He seemed to take offense to the pettiness of my question.  His 30 minute response about his founding and cultivation of the circus academy in the 1970’s ended with the lesson that the grade I received was irrelevant because “siempre tendrás un talento con que podría proporcionar pan a tus hijos“.  You will always have a talent with which you can provide your children with bread.  As in, if you’re on the street.  Which was a strange thing to hear from a teacher – I know it seems so irrelevant for someone from the States, but I guess in the face of the new economy who knows?  Reality check anyway.  But I never did figure out how I was being graded.

Sum up of the week – classes all happened, bar with a couple Am. friends Friday, circus fiestaing last night.  Pretty straightforward.  I have a few more weeks here of straightforwardness and then I get to start traveling and have some exciting plans going on.  So that is something I am pretty pumped about.

Happy National Coming Out Day yesterday.  Who did you come out to?

si se puede!

I dreaded everything about going to class this week.  I dreaded being smacked one more time in the lower stomach pooch by my petite, operatic voice coach.  I dreaded the sound of my back folding down into my neck during the transition from handstand to roll.  I dreaded the unintelligible lectures and most of all, I dreaded the all the cookies I knew I was going to eat to make up for dreading so many things.  But of course, my dread was without merit!  Because my classes really aren’t so scary, you might say?  One, you would be wrong.  My classes are terrifying.  Two, the real reason I didn’t need to dread having classes was that I didn’t.  This week?  ONE.

Well okay, I skipped circus.  But that was because, well, that dread was based in real physical pain and I just…couldn’t.  But my other two classes, both at different universities and neither on strike, just did not occur.  Which isn’t to say I didn’t take the hour and a half trip to get to them.  Just that when I got there I was the only one.  I’ve calculated that of 16 class periods of one class, we’ve only the pleasure of actual lecture 6 times.  But only the pleasure of a strike for three of the five weeks we’ve not had class.  Correct, five weeks with no class.

But what a DELICIOUS weekend.  Thursday night I joined a solid group of friends at a bar with the rest of the United States in Argentina to watch the VP debates.  (http://www.nbc.com/Saturday_Night_Live/video/clips/vp-debate-open-palin-biden/727421/)We played Palin bingo and shook our heads a lot.  It was fabulous fun.  It was wonderful to be surrounded by other people from the US and to experience some of that political tension we’re missing out on by being abroad during this most important election.  (http://www.votefromabroad.org/)  As you may know, “Si Se Puede” is the spanish version of Obama’s “Yes We Can”.  After careful consideration, my friends and I have determined what is really going on with Palin.  As you may also know, many believe that Dick Cheney is a shape shifter.  Fair.  Don’t knock it.  And late Thursday night, after the debates, we came to the silencing realization that it has been a while since we last saw Mr. Dick.  About one month actually…

Friday was jazz night – we went to The Lonious, a chill, live jazz bar in Palermo where we sipped on frozen mojitos and just hung out.  My friend Danielle’s boyfriend Skirianos Skirianos is in town and he brought me bagels so I met up with them earlier in the day to grab those and we hung out in Chinatown.  First Friday in a while I have actually done anything during the day.

Saturday was pizza at a friend’s studio apartment and then SALSA at Azúcar in Belgrano, my barrio.  Azúcar is ridiculous because they play salsa, merengue, reggaeton, cumbia – a bunch of things – but at like 3:30 or so, all the hot young dancers who work there take the stage and lead the crowd in individual dancing.  But it ends up feeling mostly like an aerobics class.  (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=li84gR3CtVc)  Literally.  Watch the video.  They were still at it when I left at five.  Que bárbaro.

Chau!

t-10

Ten weeks from yesterday and I will completing the two day journey from Argentine summer to Minnesota winter.  Wowsa.  The last two weeks have been relatively uneventful and specifically, I believe I am experiencing the effects of the midterm slump.  But in terms of abroad, the feeling of comfort that comes from having two months under my belt balances out the mediocre feeling of midterm-ness.

Marie and Danielle tomar-ing a maté and sharing a chuckle on the first day of spring.

It is officially spring in the city of good pollution, and a few lady-friends and I celebrated the occasion with a little maté (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mate_(beverage)) and company in one of the city’s sprawling parks.  The smell of marijuana and sunshine washed over us as we soaked up the sun and a small army of ants crawled down the backside of my jeans.  Bienvenidos a la primavera.  This was last Sunday?

Last Friday I went out with the gay boiz again and we went to this dance club that was almost 100% gay.  And I love them, I do, but I forget that gay clubbing is pretty goal-focused, and as the lady friend, I serve only a few functions.  One, the girl to dance with while scoping the place out.  Two, the girl to dance with to show your moves off to the man scoped out during aforementioned activity.  Three, the girl to go tell the scoped out man that x gay friend is interested in him.  Four – inevitably – the cockblock.  I left early and was home by four.

Saturday was girls night in with some pizza and a movie (literally girls, not myself and invisible friends) at my friend Lauren’s house.  You can order almost everything for delivery here, the only downside that you have to deal with the consequences of whatever order you happened to place while trying to keep up with the lightening tongued receptionist.

Recently some girlfriends and I have been hanging out at this great bar (not for food though) that has live, traditional Argentine music.  It is very latino-cheers feeling and with the exception of the time we ordered espresso and it came in tea bags and hot water, it is a solid time.  That was Friday night, and Saturday was pretty chill too – dinner at Bio, a great vegetarian restaurant Marie introduced me to, and coffee (with whiskey) at another, less remarkable place.

In other news I stocked up on peanut butter for the rest of my LIFE and skipped class one day this week to watch Weeds (http://www.sidereel.com/Weeds).  Worth it.  SO worth it.

another one bites the dust

1.  The main circus headquarters.

2.  To be fair, he’s been working on this a while.

3.  Monkey bars with FEDE!

4.  A graceful landing.

5.  Less so.

6.  We are literally jumping through hoops.

7.  More FEDE!

8.  This stuff is harder than it looks.

9.  And another one falls, and another one falls…

you had me at shalom

  Learning to Tango – so sexy.  

The longer I wait to post, the harder it becomes.  At this point, I don’t even completely remember what happened in the last one.5 weeks.  As far as I can remember, last weekend was pretty uneventful.  Tango lessons were strong – I wasn’t as good as I thought I would be.  Go figure.  They ended today.  Still haven’t had the one class at UBA – one strike turned into another.  Go figure.  Walked home last night wearing drag makeup and a sparkly silver hat – was harassed.  Go figure.

Friendly revolutionaries!

After Tango lessons, walking down the street my friends and I encountered a Bolivian protest.  For those of you who aren’t aware – tensions in Bolivia are way high, and recently the US Ambassador left the country for his own safety.  Check out the NY Times article: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/11/world/americas/11bolivia.html?_r=1&scp=2&sq=bolivia&st=cse&oref=slogin  I happened to be carrying my legit camera and was dressed sort of like a press person, and was able to move throughout the protesters and take pictures.  

While pretending to be Jewish at the Buenos Aires Hillel community center’s Shabbat dinner Friday night, I was seated next to a wall of post cards that touted the adventures one might encounter in Israel with phrases like, “you had me at shalom” and “what happens in Israel doesn’t stay in Israel”.  It felt like Tufts!  After Tango lessons, I had been invited to go with some Jewish friends to the dinner and thankfully here it is so difficult to tell if anyone is Jewish, I fit right in.  This is the second time I’ve tagged along.  Honestly, best way to meet people in the city.  The Jews are woah friendly and they know where to find the best food!  Think I might go out with some new friends I met there.

However, if you are Jewish or have ever been to a Jewish service, you will know that every single Jew, no matter where you are from, knows a select group of core prayers and rituals.  Hilarity ensued.  I pretended to be tone deaf to avoid the songs, and mumbled the prayers under my breath in the attempt to seem deeply religious and internal.  I’m glad someone pointed out the Shomer Negiah men or I would have attempted the traditional Argentine cheek kiss.  A non-Jew related mess up was when I complimented another exchange student on her perfect Spanish accent – like from Spain.  Then realized she actually had a lisp.

After dinner I met some friends at a bar.  On the bus ride home, a very inebriated young man and his very amused friends started chatting my friend and I up.  She pretended that we were lesbians (which, for everyone’s information, always back fires and makes people more interested).  He, in his very broken english, started yelling “OH! You are two Tuwtles.  TUWTLES!”  Turtles.  Tortugas.  Five dollars to the person who can tell me why he thought that was an english expression for lesbian.

Friends who also enjoy Mexican SPICE!

Saturday night I went out AGAIN on the hunt for spicy Mexican food.  We failed, but had a decent meal and some wine.  Argentines hate spicy food with as much passion as they can muster.  Menus declare in bold “nuestra comida no es picante!” or, “our food is NOT spicy”.  Like that’s a good thing?

Then I met up with my CIRCUS FRIENDS as they had invited me to a costume party.  However, I had no idea what to expect, had no costume, and assumed we’d be going somewhere, oh, I don’t know, in Buenos Aires…  Turns out we were going to a friend’s house in the provinces by train, returning tomorrow whenever the sun came up.  I would have loved to go but was totally unprepared, in heels and without my contacts case So I feigned sick, let them dress/make me up anyway and made them promise to let me come to the next one (next weekend duh).  My new favorite Argentine, Fede, told me that he went out dancing with the cast and crew of the Argentine production of Hairspray!  And that next time he will take me with him!  Theater people are by far the most interesting people no matter where you go.  Sin excepción.

foreigner see, foreigner do

This morning was my first day on my own at the temple.  The results were catastrophic.  To review, I am volunteering at a Buddhist temple located in the heart of Argentina.  From the United States to Argentina to China/Taiwan/Malaysia etc…  It is culture shock within culture shock.  I’ve always hated those slapstick movies where the crazy foreigners do stupid things in classy establishments.  But I have newfound respect for them after today.  

First, I killed a spider when I was mopping.  I think I go to Buddhist-hell for that.  Then, I walked all over a sacred room and my guide woman looked at me like I had specifically disregarded what she told me about no shoes.  I could have sworn she had told to “wait here and relax” but I suppose it makes more sense that she would have said “wait here and take off your shoes so you don’t go to Buddhist-hell”.  While the two sound like they would come across vastly different, neither of us really speak Spanish all that well.  To really cement my successful first day, I partook in the sacred ritual of lunch!  Which was delicious.  Really.  Until I accidentally ate…or should I say tried and failed to masticate…something vaguely resembling tree bark…which by the reaction of hysteria around me I soon realized was really just meant to season the soup.  Conja (sp) de tu hermana (the vagina of your sister – it’s big here, pick and choose the family member as you please).  I was in complete Buddhist-hell.

Other things I did today:

Put a down payment on tango lessons!  50 pesos (like 17 bucks?) I am re (really) excited! 

Bought juggling balls.  Red and gold – I figured if I was going to join the circus I should go all out.

Attempted to go to class.  Was blocked by angry students with looks that said “you really want to try me?” and dozens of chair-desks piled on top of each other in the stairwell.  Apparently there’s a strike.  Apparently I will not be going to class this week.  For the first time I really feel like I am in Latin America!  It was awesome.

quinientos veinte cinco mil seiscientos minutos

One of the things I miss most in Argentina is doing theater – more specifically getting to sing at the top of my lungs without the neighbor banging on my bedroom wall.  So this weekend was theater overload!  The marathon started on Thursday, with a group called Choque Urbano, essentially an Argentine version of Stomp.  It was fabulous – a great way to kick of the weekend.  The opening scene was inspired by the subte, the dancers all congregated in the middle of stage, holding on to the subte for dear life, pushing one person out and then that person would desperately try to climb back in.  We laughed so hard because we totally understand – the subte is the most miserable place in the world.  And when you aren’t surrounded on all four sides to the point where your feet aren’t even touching around and you are sliding against each other due to excessive sweat, the cars are filled with people begging or selling small trinkets for money – at each stop one panderer gets off and another gets on. 

The next night was less wonderful.  I went with the program to a production of the Barbero de Sevilla, Rossini’s Barber of Seville.  While the singers were pretty on, the staging and the blocking was enough to put even a music lover to sleep.  I won’t waste any more blog space on the opera.  After the opera I went gay clubbing.  ’Nough said.

THEN WE WENT TO GO SEE RENT IN SPANISH!  Omgod, it was so good.  Well, okay, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a very well produced, well sung version of RENT.  So strange to see RENT in spanish.  If you get a chance, check out that YouTube video to hear the timing on the song.  After RENT the 12 of us went to a Mexican restaurant – a food I miss like woah and is really hard to find here – at midnight for dinner.

My internet is out again, go figure.  But I start classes tomorrow again anyway.  Last week I was 3/5 of teachers not showing up.  I have yet to meet one of my teachers.  Let’s hope it stays that way!  In other news, I was asked this week if I was mixed gender.  This was from an Asian girl from my program who meant to ask if I was mixed race (now I am even fooling real Asian people!).  For future reference I am neither of those things.

Choque Urbano: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mkA-FigVmw&NR=1

El Barbero de Sevilla: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXmK5UfywFM

ALQUILA, ALQUILA, ALQUILA!  Or, as they say in Mexico: RENTA, RENTA, RENTA!  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtlCABelxAE & http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWscZ6UnddU&NR=1 (Mexico, not how it was when we saw it, but really funny)

i almost got hit by a bus today, bystanders screaming, horns blaring, wet your pants kind of almost got hit a-whoops

So I guess it shouldn’t really effect my feelings on abroad if other people are abroad too, but it sort of does.  I now know some kids from school who have left the country, and the rest of my friends who are abroad-ing will all be gone within the next two weeks.  And to be honest, it feels really good to know that people I care about and think highly of are now going through the same sort of experiences that I have been.  It’s funny though – for example, by the time a friend of mine from the little apple leaves for Italy on Sept. 8, I will have already been abroad for 50% of the time she will be away total.  Note to those who choose to study in Argentina: you’re going to be gone for a while.  It is sort of like studying abroad for a semester and a half.

It’s been a week since my last post.  Classes are gearing up (for some people, my professors just haven’t gotten the memo yet), I spent some time with Katia and her friends again this weekend, and Argentina’s soccer team beat Nigeria for the Olympic gold.  I know this because it is hard to sleep through fireworks and the warbly victory-chants of drunken men on the street 10 stories below.

Circus class was epic this week.  It is sort of like a mixture of David Blaine for beginners and a reality TV show called “Survivor Argentina: Where Stupid, Out-of-shape Americans Come to Die”.   The class tutors (ringleaders) are Jorge and Jorge’s brother (it was enough work to pick out one name) – and they are these sort of chubby, older men who sit in chairs on the sidelines and yell at you, reminiscent of your common brassy, spinster dance teacher, dragging from her cigarette and kicking young ballerinas in the behind.  You know the one I mean.  

Jorge explained the long, drawn out history of the connection between circus and theater in Argentina.  Something about a blind man and a hostel?  Then I had to juggle with tennis balls for a while, we warmed up and everyone lined up and started charging headfirst down these rundown, not-much-softer-than-rock mats and like somersaulting and cartwheeling and flipping – the only flipping I did was flipping out.  This isn’t to say that everyone was good, just that they all did it.  We’re so used to safety guidelines, rules and restrictions in the states – not here.  Some kids (mostly guys, go figure) landed in positions that are highly conducive of paralysis.  The reaction from the coach-man?  NEXT!  Ee-gahds.  I haven’t attempted a cartwheel since the age of six, and even then it was an attempt.  Backflips?  Forget about it.  I tried though, and for my efforts I was rewarded by a. flashing the entire class b. a crick in my BODY that lasted until the next class and c. a dirty look from the instructor.

Now, just to clarify for those of you who don’t know me very well, here are things that I am afraid of: breaking my neck, clowns, heights, flinging my body into the air in a room not filled with pillows, water/things in the water, spiders, sequins/tackiness and surprise olives in my food.  The majority of those fears form the basis for all that is circus.  Come to think of it, I haven’t set foot in a circus since I learned that elephant are supposed to be born in the wild and people are mortal.

There’s just very little safety equipment, no padding, no starter courses.  I spent most of the time on a mat out of the way of the real activity standing on my head, practicing moving my legs around while upside down – the circus equivalent of being told to stand in the corner.  Also, they have these streaming panels of cloth hanging from the ceiling, you know the kind people climb, wrap themselves up in then cascade down?  Yeah, I almost had a heart attack when the instructor pointed at me and told me to climb it.

But of course when I went to class today, no-one showed.  I’m 2/3 on teachers not showing to class this week.  Two classes to go!  (see current vocabulary word or phrase of distinction)

I went salsa clubbing with Katia and her friends this weekend, which was a blast – she leaves Thursday, but I may see them again in the future.  We’ll see because, and I know trogs are public and I shouldn’t be saying this but it was too funny – this kid in the group they’ve been pushing on me (stop, do not want, do not approach) goes (in spanish, yeahduh), “my parents will be out town next weekend…” and after a pause, “so you should come over…” and after a pause, “something…blargh…blargh…party”.  I think it was a really uncomfortable way of inviting me to a party, but I don’t know that I want to chance it.  They’re really fun kids though, and I think I will try to keep in touch when Katia is gone.  Don’t look a gift friend-posse in the mouth, huh?

The buddhist temple is officially on my roster of to-do’s.  Tomorrow again actually, which I remembered while writing this.  Essentially, I do whatever they tell me to.  Or more accurately what they point at.  Chinese was the next language on my to-learn list, but I just haven’t quite gotten around to it.

Uhm.  Right and I almost died today, so I ate lots of dulce de leche (essentially, spreadable caramel) in case I don’t see tomorrow.  Because you never know when you are going to die, so you should eat as much as you can while you can.  See?  I AM learning things while abroad.