XOXO

Immigration offices are never fun, but today’s stint was downright chaotic. First of all, who thought is was a good idea to schedule our appointments at 8:30 in the morning on a day when most of us don’t have classes to begin with? Why were the IES staffers a half hour late? Secondly, providing us an address and advising us not to take the significantly cheaper buses, but a taxi when it was a one block walk from the closest bus stop was not well thought out. 2 hours later, I had to run across town to meet with a teacher for my internship. The good news is that I am officially allowed to stay in the country for more than 90 days and the better news is that with my new visa, I can book flights with the Argentine price (without the surcharge for being a foreigner).

My conversation with the taxi driver last night was really interesting. For some reason, after the sun goes down, I have less inhibitions about my lack of Spanish and just go for it. I was exercising both listening and conversational skills. I wouldn’t say my comprehension level was at its finest, but as I watched my fourth episode in a row of Gossip Girl with Spanish subtitles today, I began to learn some of the words he was trying to explain to me last night. The first being temprano, or early. He was asking why I was returning home so early. I informed him in my careless grammar that I had an early meeting in the morning and was being responsible. The next 3 blocks were dedicated to him trying to make me comprehend the word novio. Mi novio. Novio...

I asked for explanations, alternative words, and more context clues as to what that could possibly mean. He had a goofy grin on his face that I attributed to his amusement of the situation. But thanks to Nate Archibald, I now know that novio is boyfriend.

Let’s talk about this for sec. At no point prior to August 2011 had I considered the notion of me being spectacularly beautiful. I’m not trying to report a depressive state; anyone who knows me is aware that I rarely lack confidence. However, Latin American men do not hold back their feelings or intentions. Who am I to attract such attention?

For example, in Córdoba, the five young women in my travel group had to walk past a building that was undergoing some repairs. I was astonished that two of the men actually stopped working to watch us walk past and whistle at us. Does that actually happen in real life?? I thought that was just in movies when the tiny and gorgeous actress is effortlessly crossing the street in her 4 inch Louis Vuitton’s. There I was in my flare jeans and sneakers doing an awkward skip-walk across the street so as not to be crushed by oncoming traffic.

Because people don’t often smile or even make eye contact with each other on the streets here, I nearly jumped out of my skin yesterday when a man actually waved and gave a small “hola” as we walking toward each other while crossing an 8 lane highway. Since when does a friendly little hello startle me?

Many of my friends are more excited for the once a week Gay Pub Crawl than the typical clubs in BA despite the fact that they identify as heterosexuals. They are so much looking forward to the chance of dancing all night and not getting hit on.

Due to the recent criticism I received about viewing the world too negatively, I am devoting this list to things that make me happy in Buenos Aires.

1 huge bottles of water, though not unique to BA, I enjoy picking up a couple of 2 liter bottles from the Disco to refill my favorite flip top bottle

2 that the grocery store is called Disco

3 how cheap the buses are, I can get from Chinatown in Belgrano (way in the north) to the bowels of San Telmo (very south) for about 30¢ USD. Most of the buses come very frequently. Unfortunately, the buses I frequent, do not. WAIT, I’m staying positive...

4 learning Tango, it’s so difficult, but we have fun with it. My favorite part? That my teacher speaks not a lick of English.

5 the little spoon they give you when you order an ice cream cone. Argentines are not lickers.

6 that children never seem to be in school. It’s 10,30 on a Thursday morning and I bump into 4 teenage boys going into the corner Starbuck in their school uniforms. It’s not just teenagers, and it’s almost everyday.

7 Argentine babies.

8 Avenidas Nueve de Julio, Carlos Pelegrini and Cerrito, otherwise known as the massive collection of streets that I cross at least twice a day. It’s so wide that I must wait for 2-3 light cycles to make it across. One day this week, my housemate told me that she crossed it all in one light. She either lied, sprinted, or caught traffic at an oddly low hour. I find it darn near impossible.

9 the endless amount of museums. I’ve been here for a month and have hit all but two museums in Polermo, but there are so many more neighborhoods! I need to plan out the rest of my time asap so I don’t miss something crucial!

10 café con leche y medialunes, a divine combination. This snack at my favorite café where the waitress kisses me when I walk in is becoming somewhat of an unhealthy habit. Twice this week, and one of the times I substituted fruit salad!

Best.