We had the chance to make it now it’s over, it’s over, it can’t be over.

We had the chance to make it now it’s over, it’s over, it can’t be over.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZmvJknzLfU&feature=related

My break-up with Buenos Aires

Listening to similar songs on the 108 bus on the way home from class tonight, I couldn’t help but to tear up a bit and blame it on the warm breeze blowing on my face from the open window. I recognize that I’ve been here for a while, but can it really be over?

In four months, I’ve made leaps and bounds as a traveler, a student, and marginal improvement as a person. I’ve come to know a city that has an understated way of being sophisticated. By day, it’s too bright and loud to be appreciated. By night, it’s too loud and slightly too dangerous to take it all in. But, at twilight, it’s soft spoken, tangible, and honest.

I ride the bus with doctors who are coming off of a long shift, young businesspeople with their iPods tightly secured in place, teenage mothers in too tight, nearly transparent shirts kissing their baby’s forehead, and a mix of others, resting their heads against the window because they are tired from a long day a work, or reading novels to pass the time.

On the sidewalk, parents walk with grocery bags full of ingredients back to their apartments to feed their children who are scootering along their sides. Couples canoodle on the corner and shamelessly kiss their partners. Kioscos with their bright lights distribute beverages and ice creams to passers-by. Apartments light up as their owners return for the evening, while dogs are ecstatic to being going for their evening walk. And, for some unknown reason, there are some with a extra little bounce in their steps. It’s something special, to accidentally stumble upon someone having a great moment.

As I knew I was teary-eyed and smiling for no apparent reason on the bus, I hope that someone looked at me and thought not about questioning my mental health, but experienced some joy from my obvious happiness.

I was greeted at my home on Salguero by my host parents, their son and his wife. The four of them have been so helpful in my learning about this country and traveling advise. They are great people. We have shared many a meals together, and tonight’s feast was no exception. Asked to request our favorite meals from our time in AR, my housemate and I were both treated to our favorite meals, hers chorizo, and mine a lentil stew. Good conversation and good food contributed to a great evening.

Though I am upset that I can’t spend time with my real family this holiday week, I’m am thankful for my time here and the benefits I’ve gained from spending time abroad.

Thanks, Argentina and Buenos Aires, for all you’ve shown me.

Now, I guess I should start packing...

Oh right, my passport.

Iguazú

Chivito

Casa Puebla

in Montevideo

Uruguay, Iguazú, and memorias

So, just in case you are wondering: you need your passport to enter Uruguay. I wouldn’t say that I forgot it, I just happened to not realize that I would actually need that tiny, yet important document to cross international borders for the weekend. Okay fine. I was the dumb Americana in the ferry station trying to explain in perfect(ly horrible) Spanish that I hadn’t brought my original passport and that I would miss my boat if I went to retrieve. The oh-so-patient worker kindly directly me to the change-your-ticket line, so I gave up and changed my departure. Luckily (well, maybe not), my friend and co-traveler and randomly fellow Penn Stater also forgot her passport so half of our group went to board our original boat, and we went home to grab our little blue books.

It’s not as ridiculous as it sounds. In Buenos Aires, there are many people who work in the city for the week and return home to their families in Uruguay for the weekends because it works out better financially. Going to Colonia, the nearest city to BA, is no big deal. People do it everyday. It was such a nonchalant trip that I didn’t bother to bring my passport because I subconsciously thought that the odds of me needing it versus the odd of me loosing it weren’t worth the bringing it! False. Get it together, Rachel.

Once I made it successfully from Argentina, I realized that even though the countries border, they are distinctly different. People in Uruguay have neither the same ridiculous Spanish accent that porteños insist on using, nor the same love of driving like it’s the end of the world. They are calm and friendly. And the people in places that I went love tourists - which is better than if they hated us!

In Montevideo, we walked down the main avenue to find a fountain secured heavily by thousands of small locks. Simple locks - like the kind you might use to secure the door of a shed or you hang from your high school gym locker. All of them had two names carved into them. The legend goes that if you place a lock with you and your partner’s name on the fountain, you’ll never fall out of love. It’s was so sweet to see so many people investing in their relationship’s futures! It made for cool pictures, if nothing else.

We spent the night in Punta del Este, a beach town. In the morning, we rented scooters (don’t tell IES, I’ll get kicked out) and drove all over the peninsula and beyond. I will have you know I am an excellent driver. But, who on earth trusts a bunch of foreign 20-somethings with brand new scooters in a foreign country? I’m still not really sure what the speed limit was or how it converts to miles per hour, but no importa.

We went to Casa Pueblo, a museum/restaurant/hotel/resort in the edge of a tiny peninsula. Formerly inhabited by an artist, it displayed art of great colors and interesting shapes. The view was breathtaking, and I hope you enjoy the pictures!

We later, returned our scooters, got some huge chivitos and headed back to BA. Chivito sky rocketed to my top ten list of all time favorite foods. It starts with a melt in your mouth steak sandwich and just gets better from there. Add lettuce, tomato, grilled onions, egg, jam, bacon, ketchup, mayo, and mustard, and anything else you would like to this delightful grease pile. It rivals Primanti’s for height, and far exceeds them in flavor. It’s a fabulous piece of art, but unfortunately only officially found in Uruguay. So, in 2 days I had it twice.

The following weekend, I hopped on a 17+ hour bus on Thursday to arrive in hot and steamy Puerto Iguazú on Friday morning. Located in the very Northeast of Argentina, Iguazú falls are familiar worldwide and are very recently recognized as one of the seven greatest natural wonders of the world.

The truth is they really are spectacular. My pictures aren’t lying. The immensity and intensity of the rushing water was enough to get my blood pumping. Maybe the ridiculously close proximity to the falls is why some people prefer the Argentine side of the falls as opposed to the Brazilian side. I was actually suspended mere feet above the incredibly forceful water on the balconies that also served as walkways. Era un poco peligroso? Si, pero no importa. It was too much fun.

In other news, it rained cats and dogs for 1.5 days of my 3 day trip, and I got a horrible case of food poisoning that I’ve yet to fully overcome, but I’d rather focus on how incredible sights were. We were able to take a boat under the falls and get totally drenched - which was great for 2 seconds then I couldn’t breathe or see and it wasn’t fun anymore. Awesome to be so close you get the feel for how powerless you are, not so awesome you get to be so powerless.

Oh, did I mention that when I was clad in my lifejacket heading down toward the boat via the stone steps carved from the mountain that the worker who was trying to hurry me along “helped” me along to miss a step completely, fall to the ground, twist my ankle and slam into the rocky mountainside back first? Yeah, the twisted ankle, black and blue back, and bruised pride were the cherry on top of my food poisoned weekend.

And, my bus broke down on the way home causing a 3 hour delay increments of 30 minute random stops whenever the engine decided to quit en route to BA.

But, seriously, I had a great time!

Tonight at dinner, I caught my host mother looking at me. Raising an eyebrow, I chewed my potatoes thoughtfully and looked back across the table. She explained that my face reminds her of her mother, a woman who traveled from Switzerland to Argentina to raise her family. I think that she was simply referring to bone structure and and circumstance (tonight, I had my hair pulled back), but she further commented on how I look very European and not so American. As the United States of today is comprised mostly of immigrants, I find this difficult to believe, but a compliment nonetheless. It’s sad to know that after the next couple of weeks, I will likely never see these people that have taken care of me so nicely again. =[

In happier news, I got my student’s feedback from my English classes this semester. I can’t believe that anyone would say such nice things about me! I really don’t think I deserve it, but I’m very happy to accept them anyway!

https://picasaweb.google.com/107885548887151676014/BATres?authkey=Gv1sRgCJnq1dqMutWjQg

^ my pictures from Tigre and Uruguay ^

I'll post Iguazú soon!

un beso

More or Hands

view from my hotel

my lunch from the other day - who knew I could cook?

Asado, pollo y chorizo, ay de mi!

On Friday, my film class had the opportunity to visit BA’s film archive and museum. In reality, only 3 of the 10 or so people in my class managed to not forget and actually make it there. It ended up being nice though because instead of taking the subway and an extra bus to get there, we could just pile into my professor’s car and drive. Once we arrived to archives/his office, I got a distinct take-your-daughter-to-work-day feeling. My two friends and I tottered after him and asked all the appropriate questions. We met his awkward, yet likable office friends. (Similar to some nerdy friends of my father).

All in all, it was awesome because we got the opportunity to handle and preserve genuine Argentine films from the 20’s. The reel we worked with was made from Kodak film that boasted only one color at a time. As we spun the film through the homemade viewing machine, it displayed a rainbow of images. We stopped and peered through a small looking glass to examine the images more closely. It was awesome! I felt so important and so nervous that I was going to sneeze all over the one and only copy of an impeccable historical film. I wasn’t even feeling sneezy, but I was sure I was going to mess things up somehow.

Everything made its way safely back into its case, though. =]

Using a different (and automatic) machine, we got to view the original film of the trailer of the initial Star Wars movie from the 70’s. It was incredible to have witnessed something so raw. I’m sure many a Star Wars fans would have killed for the opportunity.

After finishing up at workshop and archives, we visited the what is completed of the new museum. It cost one peso to enter (about 25¢USD). The one floor, 3 room museum was disappointing in my opinion not in content, but in the quantity of displays. I think this is partly because I’m used to huge and well-organized museums, but also because I had just come from the overstocked archives. There is plenty of material that would make fascinating displays, but is not visible to the public.

And, of course, by that time we were starving, we went out for a pizza before our professor dropped us off near our houses. Wow, it really was take-your-daughter-to-work-day.

At volleyball, my coach has decided to run practices in English when there are only a few people there. Una problema, she can’t really speak English. I actually put us on similar levels in our corresponding languages. As much as she can’t speak English, I can’t speak Spanish.

One time after I hit a ball in practice, she gasped and exclaimed, “I love your... style!” It was a pretty decent hit, but I wouldn’t have declared love for it.

In fact, she was talking about my “fancy braid” hairstyle that I had sported that evening. She immediately stopped practice, came over, and touched my hair gently. She was in awe of one of the most common hairstyles on college campuses across the US. Go, USA.

At our next game, she asked my friend and I to put one in her hair and secure it tightly, just in case she had a “hot night”. In this instance, I did not ask her to elaborate. She did, however, beam when she checked herself out in a compact.

Volei is now over because we lost in the playoffs (though it was a super close match!). I hadn’t known that it was the playoffs until after the fact. Maybe I should learn that word in Spanish. Anyway, we still have practice. I’m not sure why, but maybe I missed that, too.

My friend, who knew little more than “hola” before coming to Argentina was responding to a waiter the other day when she said, “entiendo más o manos”. I cracked up immediately because without knowing she had just coined one of my new favorite phrases. What she was trying to say was “entiendo más o menos” which means, I understand more or less. By mistaking one letter in the entire phrase, she changed the meaning to “more or hands”.

This phrase is so wonderfully meaningless and funny that I’ve been trying to work it into everyday speech.

Cooking class:

At my cooking class last weekend, I had the opportunity to make wonderful Argentine dishes in a professional kitchen under the direction of a cut-throat chef. She was fabulous because although she was speaking pure Spanish, I could understand exactly what she wanted me to do. This happens with only some people I’ve met in this country. They can not know one word of English and I understand them 99% better than others. I guess some people enunciate and know what to stress for me to comprehend.

First, we made empanadas saltena, as in not dessert empanadas. They were delicious because we could add as much spice as we wanted to. We made them spicey!

Then, we made humita, a dish from northern AR that is similar to corn pudding, but more runny and with my veggies.

Moving onto postres, we created a merengue covered dulce de leche layer cake that resulted in fabulousness and turkey-delight-type filled dumplings which we subsequently deep fried, only to then dunk them in a simple syrup and sprinkles. In a word, heart attack. In another work, bliss.

We also grilled a huge hunk of steak that we covered in homemade chimichurri (a delicious oil and red wine vinegar sauce) to be the entre to our sweet potato pure. Mind you, these batatas are white with purple skin and are best served up with some caramelized sugar with milk mixed in. Also bliss.

All in all, even split between the four in my group, I ended up coming home with 4 huge containers of leftovers after devouring all I could there. It was a fabulous experience and one of my favorite activities in Argentina so far!

Best part? I just realized that I’ve already blogged about this experience, but I’m leaving this in here anyway because it was that good.

This weekend, I went to Tigre, an awesome delta just outside of BA. IES offers a special weekend trip to explore the town, the market, a local museum, and to be pampered at a fabulous resort in the middle of nowhere.

We arrived by van to a square full of vendors selling great goods for very reasonable prices. I did not hold back on shopping there. I got many holiday presents and gifts for me, too!

The museum was hosting an outdoor concert featuring a ~30 piece German band. Unfortunately, my group was not very interested in checking out the gorgeous artwork in the museum, so I was hurried through and back out of the door only having the chance to snap a few pictures of the gorgeous building and artwork.

Next, we took a boat through the channels of muddy water past the coast guard stations, past the shores scattered with weekend get-aways for the wealthy in BA, and past a lot of empty shoreline, too. Finally, after about an hour and a half of sailing, we docked at our resort to find the tranquility of nature surrounding us. It was spectacular to not hear any car horns, ambul-i (the plural of ambulance), or people shouting in the streets. The resort is connected by a series of balconies that allow passers-by to navigate with ease the jungle that surrounds the bungalows and main dining area. There also happens to a beautiful pool and wrap around deck available. Naturally, we all picked a reclining beach chair and read until dinner at 9:30. It was asado, naturally. Argentines take beef very seriously and at an asado, or barbeque, they serve it up in many different ways. There is one round of veggies, but at least 4 of meat, so you need to have the right mindset going in.

The next morning, I found myself awakened from a food coma and remembered that I had spent the evening chatting on the deck by the pool with other people on the trip. The best part was that everyone recognized how privileged we were to be there, in that beautiful place. The staff of the hotel were so kind and the atmosphere was something that I wish could be replicated for all of the kind people in the world.

It was a lazy and fabulous weekend. I sat by the pool (which was freezing cold) and read my book in the hot sun. I wasn’t worried about my homework or any other more significant issue. I was just in the moment.

Later that day, we set off in another boat to be taken directly back to BA via La Rio de la Plata (that vastly wide river). It was so special to be able to see the skyline of the city with the sun setting behind it (the river is on the eastern side). Truly beautiful.

The only unfortunate thing was that I didn’t care to complete any homework after that relaxing weekend and now I’m very much behind in 2 of my classes. =[

There are worse things.