Life Back in Buenos Aires

Hey y’all!  So first of all I want to say how shocked and flattered that so many people have read my blog!  I seriously didn’t even think my mom would actually take the time to read it all.  However, now I'm all stressed out, anxious, and nervous to write.  Fingers crossed I don’t say something stupid!!

Also, will have to update this more frequently (because I now have 3 weeks of happenings to update on) so that the posts are shorter and less of a dread to both read and write. 

The week after I returned from Bariloche was a trip.  Not literally, but the figure of speech type in my mind.  Not only did I spend it on the phone with the Embassy and program directors, but I had to repurchase many things that were stolen.  I also spent two days at the U.S. Embassy to obtain my Emergency Passport.  Also, it was the first week of classes and until 2.5 weeks after it started, I still was unsure of what classes I need to take and would get credit for.  Por eso, I lived a couple stressful weeks of e-mailing back and forth with different advisors/professors/etc.

This whole “being robbed” experience has taught me loads.  Now that the initial shock of it is over and I’ve had time to reflect and gain confidence walking down the streets again, I can realize some of the lessons it has taught me.  Before, I took for granted all the material possessions I had and relied and depended on them.  Life is better if you live a simple life anyways.  (For example, I’ve learned to appreciate moments instead of constantly snapping photos of them).   

In regards to replacing all of my lost things, I’m working on it.  Some of the things can’t or just won’t be replaced (like clothes, camera, ipod, books, miscellaneous things).  However, after days at the U.S. Embassy, I finally have a new Emergency Passport!!!  I had high blood pressure while walking through the streets on the bus home from the Embassy, clutching it with my life and avoiding all eye-contact.  The toilets at the Embassy had AMERICAN FLUSHERS!!! I felt at home.  It took me two weeks without a phone (not the safest thing I realize) but thankfully I now have a working phone!  It took three tries to buy different chips but finally I found a company that works.  My new debit card still has yet to arrive.  I now have to re-do my background check, go back to the capital in a couple weeks, and then go to the migrations office for my visa.  This is quite the process, but I’m getting there.  Spending my Wednesday going downtown to get fingerprinted is my favorite. 

***1) At the Embassy there were AMERICAN FLUSHERS!! I felt at home.  2).  I needed two passport size photos for my passport with a white background.  The lady at Window 15 told me to go across the street to the park.  So did the guard.  When I arrived, there was no photo shop.  Just an old fat man on the bench.  I asked him where I can get my picture taken for my passport.  He pointed, "that there tree yonder" (my translation of his Castellano) and whiped out a stool and white dirty board and asked for 45 pesos.  How professional! HAHA

Besides my joyous times making friends at the Embassy, it was also the first week of the real semester.  Being the undecisive person that I am, I attended NINE different classes for the first 2 weeks to check out all my options and test out the professors.  Thankgoodness I did.  Some of the classes with Argentines totally freaked me out.  The professors could have been talking about lettuce, their shoe size, or global warming - I wouldn’t have known the difference.  It was as if there were one of those wind-up-monkey dolls in my head that bang the symbols all the time.  I understood - nothing!  Even the students who grew up speaking Castellano were confused!  Sexuality and Health?  No Thank You.  It's one thing to learn the material of a college class; It is another to learn the language WHILE learning the material.  However, part way through the third week of class, I have finally determined my schedule.  (20 minutes before the deadline, of course).  This process has been so stressful trying to communicate with both CMU and the professors and advisor here to make sure my classes will meet all requirements.  So that I don’t die, yet am still challenged, I have finally decided to take Psycologia Social (con argentines), Sociologia General (con argentines), Literatura Latinoamericana (con internacionales) y Historia de Latinoamerica (internacionales). 

One cultural difference which I find hilarious is how they buy their books.  Instead of “buying books”, the professors tell everyone to go to a photocopy location at the university.  This is the lovely location where they make photo copies of random chapters of random books and bind them together and sell them.  Copyrights clearly don’t exist here!  Haha It blows my mind.  However, I realize that if the books aren't printed here (printed in the U.S. for example) it must be ridiculously expensive to buy actual books here.  The government is fine with their “photocopy method”.  I felt like a rebel.  

Overall, observing the whole educational system in general here blows my mind and makes me so grateful for the organization we have at CMU.  (Even though the whole costly issue might possibly make the unorganization and lack of technology worth it).  It's just so different!  

And right now (because seasons are opposite) the summer is ending and school kids have all headed back to school as well.  I am not sure if all of the schools I see are public or private, but every school-age kid wears a uniform.  I've seen probably at least 100 different uniforms.  And they are so cute!! I wish our college wore uniforms.  Jumpers with tall socks and grandpa shoes and sweaters!  And all the 5 yr old boys in their ties and gray or navy suit jackets are just priceless.

The first couple weeks since returning to BsAs, I had a lot of time to myself.  Especially without a phone to contact friends, or even a book to read or ipod to listen to.  So, I would go running at this awesome park with a huge lake and palm trees.  It was glorious.  The only down part was the 78 giant geese who chased me and tried to eat me.  A man literally pointed and laughed as I darted back and forth.

I go to several parks to just sit.  At one there was an art show and a puppet show.  When I saw that there was a puppet show, I was more excited than a puppy who pees on the carpet!  I ran over and sat down in the grass with the kids, waiting with enthusiasm.  After about 4 minutes of the show, I left angry.  Somehow, those toddlers understood EVERY WORD that the puppet was sayin!  I have been learning Spanish since before they were conceived. 

Last weekend, the holiday!  = To celebrate the democracy and the 35 years since the dictatorship.  Also, of course in memory of the 30,000 “disappeared” (disaparecidos).  Everything (schools etc) was closed on Thursday and Friday. 

On Thursday, I wanted to go to the Plaza de Mayo, but my host mom advised me not to.  She told me that the people who go are not “nice or happy people” and that it is violent and “things happen”.  She said that the military always show up to keep things under control.  And, she said that it’s a popular day for robberies.  Sooo, clearly I wasn’t going.  However, I did go with my friend Megan to the outdoor concert of Placido Domingo [which is only a few blocks from the Plaza de Mayo (which is the center and downtown of the capital of Argentina, where the Casa Rosada [their White House] and the government buildings are located.)   I got to the concert a couple hours early because of the crowd and and even though I was some blocks away from the Plaza de Mayo, I was able to see a glimpse of the action.  Hundreds…actually probably thousands of people were marching down the streets.  They were so riled up and filled with such emotion, banging on drums, yelling, etc.  It was definitely something to see!  I felt like I was in a movie, but then I just had to remind myself that their "history" of something so tragic is just so recent.  I’ve had so many people explain to me the history, but I’m sure I will never fully understand the complexity of it. 

Placido Domingo.  It was an outdoor concert on the widest street in the world, 9 de Julio in front of the Obelisk.  Although I had been told to get there early because there’d be about 7,000 attendees, it turns out a whompin 150,000 people at this concert!   And it was a FREE concert!  He is an opera singer/orchestra director.  If I understand right, he is the #1 tenor in the world.  He plays the piano, violin, etc.  But his voice!! Oooh I had goosebumps for 3 hours straight!  I have never appreciated opera before, but he was so talented!  My host mom just told me tonight that he is the director of the symphony in NY as well as Los Angeles.  And how guapo of an old man he is!!! ;)  I have no idea how much a concert like that would cost in the U.S, but I feel like it would never be free!

Friday, Megan and I went Tango/Salsa/Swing dancing in the night.  They offer lessons for a few hours and then have open dance until 6 a.m.  We stayed the whole time and then went out for breakfast afterwards, which was great because then it was safer to go home in the daylight.  But at the tango club, there was live tango music at about 3 a.m.  It was a piano, violins, accordions, etc.  Awesome!  This city never ceases to amaze me - there were so many old people (literally gray haired and elderly) out dancing in the middle of the night!  I was a little nervous that their knees, ankles, or backs would just give out and they'd hit the floor.  Thankfully that never happened.  I'm not sure what I would have done.  OOOOH! I almost forgot!  The folklore dancing!!!  Somehow EVERYBODY knew this and it was a type of dancing I had never seen!  The man and woman pass a hankercheif back and forth to each other.  It reminded me of the dancing in "Fiddler on the Roof". 

Saturday, the next night, Buenos Aires has the coolest thing since sliced bread.  It’s called “La Noche en Vela” and EVERYTHING is open and going on all across the city during the night.  From 7 p.m. to 7 a.m.  For example, some of the things (and I saw most) were: the zoo, concerts, shows in the streets, dramas going on in parks, fairs, tours of churches, projections at the Recoletta cemetary, painting of a bridge, and so much more.  If you just walk down the street, you are bound to discover something awesome.  My favorite was definitely the hundreds of people who moved across the city to follow a show of dancing and drama that migrated from the park, across the street, to the statue, to the parking lot, etc.  

Sunday, I found a church that is somewhat similar to His House at CMU.  It is a huge non-denominational church.  I just love to hear the music when I can read the words on the screen and understand better what they’re saying.  What was really great was that they sang the same songs that I already knew in English, but now just sung in Spanish!  For example, many Hillsong songs.  Some aspects of the church, I was unsure of.  I am still undecided if they are things I disagree with, or if they are just cultural differences.  Then, I went to a beautiful Cathedral just a few blocks from my house. 

Last night, I went salsa dancing again J

My great news is that I finally have the confidence to walk through the streets again without freaking out like an overly paranoid loser. 

Well folks, that right there's a glimpse in the brain of my head.  Live, from Buenos Aires, Argentina, the Barrio of Belgrano.  Hope all is well in your neck of the woods! <3

Trip to Bariloche - One of the most eventful weeks of my life.

Welcome to this here little ditty of one of the most incredible weeks of my life, which turned out be a disastrous whopper of an emotional roller coaster.  (I am writing this a week late).  Now, I feel a million times better, but it was definitely a huge growing experience.  I apologize if this post becomes longer than the Amazon, but throughout the week I am speaking of, I had jotted down exactly what I would write in my blog, knowing that SO much happened and I knew I would forget.  Well, unfortunately that was written in a notebook which was also taken during the robbery . . . but I’ll get to that later.  First, to all the absolutely amazing things that I experienced last week:

The week before last, we had no classes so I took a tip to Bariloche, in the Patagonian region of Argentina, (the Southern part).  Pretty darn close to the South Pole.  It is the opposite side of the country as Buenos Aires and much farther south – right near the border of Chile.

I went with my friends Emily, Eric, Travis, and Janelle (all Americans, 3 of which are from CMU).  What was awesome about this group was that from the moment we stepped off the bus, we challenged ourselves to be in “Spanish Only Mode”.  Honestly, I hated it approximately 76% of the time, but it totally paid off in the end.  We acted like “Spanish police” for each other and ignored any one of us who spoke English.  At times, this became super frustrating; however after this week I can feel that my language skills have improved bundles.  Each decision took about 4 times longer than it would have in English.  But, overall it was worth it.  I’m actually really proud of us and doubt that many (or any) English speaking students who went on trips for Spring Break challenged themselves to talk only in Castellano (which is the dialect of Spanish spoken in Argentina) amongst themselves. 

To describe the group:  On the first day I decided that if we were a family, it would consist of 4 moms and then me - the rebellious 15 year old boy who didn’t think to pack Band-Aids.  For example, they purchased their round trip bus tickets weeks in advance.  I purposely waited until halfway through the week there to buy my trip home and figure out hostel plans for myself for the rest of the week.  (Just in case I found a last minute urge to travel to Chile or elsewhere on my way home).  I learned that when it comes to vacationing, I am definitely not a planner and more of a “wing it/spontaneous/see how I feel the day of” type of vacationer.  I need flexibility and like options. 

DAY ONE:  First, we had a 23 hour bus ride.  It is an omnibus, (aka a really nice charter bus).  It was somewhat cheap too.  They fed us 3 meals and came around with whisky, wine, and then Champaign.  Thankfully, we sat in the very front of the second story with a HUGE window spanning the front of the bus where we saw some of the most beautiful landscapes.  It started out in the city, then as we went just outside of the city, I could tell even from the windows how much the culture had changed.  It was like little pueblos of colorful huts.  Then, we entered the country side, which for a while looked very similar to Michigan in the summertime.  Flat and fields.  What did make the trip just lovely, was the boy with the desire to vomit and couldn’t make it to the bathroom, so instead he chose to spew his intestines right behind our seats.  The aroma for the next ten hours was just superb.  And it was all over the railing by the stairs which is super convenient for someone who needs to pee every 20 minutes and use the railing due to poor balancing skills.  (apparently 13 years of ballet did nothing for my life.)  The driver was a grump.  He didn’t like me so much.  I accidentally dropped my shoe from the second story.  I guess it fell down and hit him on the head.

The end part of the bus ride, we were driving through the tan colored mountains and bright blue lakes.  It was absolutely incredible.  Then, we walked to the bus station to our hostel, Tango Inn Soho.  The 5 of us stayed in a room together for the week.  The first day, we walked to the city of Bariloche (about a 30 minute walk) to meander.  I ended up splitting from everyone to go to mass because there was this huge beautiful Cathedral right on the water, surrounded by mountains.  I didn’t understand much of the mass, but I was glad I went.

MONDAY:  Hiking day!  I reeeally wish I knew how many miles we walked that day.  More than I have ever walked in my life.  We began down at our hostel on the water, and eight hours later were literally on the tip top of a mountain.  I kept saying, “Can you believe we walked from the water to HERE!?!”  and then repeated that sentence each hour as we ascended.  The weather was HOT.  Perfect.  One of my favorite places were when we climbed up this huge rock on the mountain, a ledge where people were rock climbing.  Part of me REEEALLY wishes that my camera wasn’t stolen so that I could show everyone a glimpse of where I was, but at the same time I am comforted to know that the pictures wouldn’t do justice anyways.  After many hours of walking, we stopped at a refugee.  It was a little wooden house on the side of the mountain with a man outside with dred locks juggling big sticks.  I was hiking in just a sports bra because it was unbearably hot and dusty, but I didn’t even feel awkward just entering his house and sitting at his kitchen table to eat my apple.  After about maybe 10 hours of walking up this mountain, we took a telefarico (similar to a ski lift) down.  BEAUTIFUL.  In the night, there was a concert going on in the town square.  It was a holiday (for La Carnival) in Argentina so the kids didn’t have school.  There were a couple hundred high schoolers at this concert outside and almost everyone had a spray can of silly string/white foaming substance that they were running around and chasing each other to spray.  It was a hoot watching, until it was sprayed in my face.

TUESDAY:  We took a boat across one of the lakes to the Isla Victoria.  There is a huge debate over who the owner of the island is: Chile, Argentina, or a private owner.  I went on part of a tour and learned some of its history, but after a while I had to pee so instead of joining the group again (because I only understood very little) I just climbed some trees and sat up high, looking out across the water.  Also, the boat took us to El Bosque de los Arroyanes (a forest in the national park.  The trees were very distinct and there was a Sequoia, similar to California).  The boat ride itself was awesome.  Not just because we were cruising over bright blue water in the middle of the mountains, but they sold empanadas and alfajores (sweets with dulce de leche)!  The only damper on the day was the freaks on the boat who thought it would be fun to feed the birds.  I was not only upset because they were feeding scrumptious food to the ugly birds instead of my belly, but more so due to the fact that the birds were darting at our heads and it was terrifying.  Not even funny.

WEDNESDAY:  This is tied as one of my favorite days of the trip.  Definitely in the top 10 of my life.  We went to the Calbagatas which is horseback riding in the mountains!!!!!!!!!! It was incredible.  The culture was so opposite of Buenos Aires.  We followed a lady on her horse through a trail that goes through the valleys in between the mountains in big open fields.  Then, up the mountain we went! … through the forests, over a stream, and the BEST part was the end of our trail.  We horseback rode (weird verb tense in English) on the beach in between the mountains!!  The stone beach was my favorite.  My horse was a stinker with a mind of its own though.  It chose to go swimming!!! Oh how fun.  I had taken a video on my camera as I was on the horse and I remember saying, “Wow. I am riding a horse through a field and on the beach of a lake in the mountains in South America.  I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.” Afterwards, we returned to a little cabin where we ate an asado.  (That is a meal that they eat every Sunday here in many places - consists of a lot of meat.  Argentina is cattle capital of the world).  These outings pick us up from our hostel, include food, and return us to our hostel in the evening.  Great!  I spent my evening alone running around Bariloche to different travel agencies trying to book plans for my next day and my bus trip home.  And I went to mass again.  My goal is to understand what they’re saying by the time I go to Spain for World Youth Day. 

THURSDAY:   Most awesome day ever.  I had really really wanted to go rafting, but no one else in my group did.  Another friend of mine had gone and said that it was the best day of his life, so I figured I would just go by myself anyways and meet people.  It actually turned out as a GREAT way to meet people who don’t know English, which is always better.  I bought a package from a company which included my transportation, food, and the whole shebang.  In the morning, a guy in a van picked me up from my hostel (which sounds sketch, but I promise it wasn’t) and then we picked up several other people and other instructors (who were very….hippyish? free spirited? Hardcore nature-ish folk?).  Everyone was super friendly and all passing around the mate to drink in the van.  We went to a place where breakfast was provided: medialunas, dulce de leche, and espresso.  Then, it was a 2 hour van ride to the boonies of the boonies.  We had to keep stopping the van to let sheep and wild horses cross the road.  I have never seen so many mountains!  It is one thing to drive through the mountains.  It is a whole nother bucket of beans when the van is going 70 mph and passing cars on sharp turns while the driver is drinking mate.  Yet, nobody else thought it was crazy.  (I suppose just b/c I’m from Michigan where mountains don’t exist and I am afraid to drive in the traffic of Byron Center).  I met people not just from Argentina, but from Chile and Nicaragua too.  When we arrived, there was another van there of people so they split us up into a boat that speaks English (there were others from Sweden) and a boat that speaks Castellano.  I chose to pretend that I speak Castellano.  Then, we put on our wet suits and hopped in the raft!  The level of difficulty of the route was a 3 /4 out of 5.  It is one thing to go white water rafting.  It is another when the dude is explaining all the commands of how not to die, in a foreign language.  Literally.  “ADALANTE DERECHA! IZQUIERDA ATRAS! ADENTRO! PARA! ADALANTE IZQUIERDA! MIRA!”  When he was explaining what to do when we fall out of the boat, how to stay afloat and get back in the raft before you hit your head and die, I was just laughing at the amount I didn’t understand and how ridiculous the situation was.  I tried to absorb as much as I could.  I’m sure my face said it all.  So then, of course for some reason unknown to man, I am the “chosen one” who must demonstrate what to do if someone is thrown overboard.  Subsequently, I was shoved out of the raft so that everyone else could practice rescuing me.  The water was approximately negative eleven degrees and just splendid.  But actually, it was really fun swimming with tennis shoes and a helmet!  The route was AWESOME though.  Because of the time of year, the water level was about 50 ft lower so we were in the middle of cannons…canyons?  Whatever the big cracks are in-between two huge rocks.  It had been drizzling rain, yet the sun was shining at the same time, so there was a huge rainbow over the jungle.  It was a little stressful trying to focus on the commands and stay in the raft over some of the rapids, but I had a blast!  The route ended in Chile, just over the border.  The culture was even different there!  On the side of the river, there was a scene that looked like it was straight out of a move:  A horse sleeping on the side of the water, with a gaucho/cowboy-looking old man sitting on a rock smoking a pipe.  We walked up through the trees to this huge open bright green hilly/feildy/mountainy place.  There was not a building in sight, only sheep everywhere and a little hut.  This was my #2 “I want to remember this moment forever” moment.  We ditched the wet suits, and on the bus ride back, I taught everyone in the van how to play 20 Questions.  I felt so cool! J And it was the most Spanish in one-day I had spoken in my life, since for once I was away from anyone who knew English.  Then, I made the van pull over (of course) so that I could find a tree to pee behind.  I felt really bad for making everyone have to stop because of me, so I tried to go super quickly and consequently tripped and fell on a cactus.  I spent the next 30 minutes picking the pokeys and burrs out of my skin and clothing.

FRIDAY:  I don’t remember what I did, but it wasn’t as good as Thursday.  We just hung out in Bariloche and walking the streets.  Bariloche is known worldwide for its chocolate so we tested out some more incredible chocolate chops.  I felt like I was in a movie.  Oh yea! I remember.  Everyone else wanted to go to the Museum of Chocolate there except me.  So I went and sat on the rocks by the water reading instead.  Then, met up with them, ate more chocolate, got a little fatter, and lived a happy life. 

SATURDAY:  I woke up at the buttcrack of dawn to go running.  I took a path a little bit up the mountain instead of through the city.  I am really glad I did, because I got to see a glimpse of the way that people live there (instead of the touristy parts of the town).  There were hundreds of tiny one-room shacks that were houses made out of I don’t even know, along the dirt road that I ran.  Again, I felt like I was in a movie.  There were also about 10 wild dogs fighting with each other.  I obviously decided it best not to go down that road and instead ran the long route where I’d be by more people. 

The four people that I had spent most of the week with left on a bus that left 3 hours before mine.  I didn’t want to sit in the back of a bus for 23 hours if I could leave 3 hours later and have the whole front row to myself with the big window and a place to kick up my feet.  So I hung out at the hostel in the morning and then walked to the bus station.  Then, I enjoyed 23 vomit-free hours on the omnibus.  I had time to do some thinking, eat me some empanadas, medialunas with dulce de leche and flan, practice my Spanish with some people that I met there, and life was just lovely. 

SUNDAY:  When I arrived to Buenos Aires.  This is where the story becomes a doozy.  A doozy that I am getting sick of talking about.  But, nonetheless, here we go!  So I am walking through Retiro, which is the busiest part of Buenos Aires, the transportation capital of the city where the bus station, train station, and subte (subway) meet.  I was exhausted and the dialogue in my head was, “I am almost home! J then I can eat, shower, and finally sleep!”  With my light brown curly hair and sunglasses, I looked like the ultimate American.  I am wearing my backpack backwards, so it is in front of me and I have a huge awkwardly shaped duffle/body bag in my other hand.  It is 1pm on a sunny Sunday afternoon and I am crossing the street toward the subte swhen something white is squirted on my back.  Then, all within about 3 seconds, a woman approaches me and is screaming “MIRA! MIRA! SUCIA! SUCIA!” (look! Look! Dirty! Dirty!) and tries to “help me” by wiping the “bird poop” (paint) from my back and bag.  I was trying to say “estoy bien! No necesito tu ayuda” (I’m fine. I don’t need your help).  I was not only distracted by her, but was trying to get out of the middle of the road because taxis and buses in this city stop for nothing.  As that was happening, a man grabbed my backpack and ran.  A man yelled “polo blanco! Tu machila!” (white shirt, your backpack!).  Immediately, I sprinted in the direction that he pointed, scanning the crowd for my backpack.  Then, not knowing who to trust and thinking maybe the man who yelled was also part of the scheme, I darted in the opposite direction that he pointed.  After about 30 seconds of scanning the crowd, I knew that it would be a useless effort.  There were literally thousands of people within these couple blocks.  After that is a blur, but I remember screaming “Alguien me robo! Alguien me robo! Todo! Todo!”  People just looked at me and didn’t care.  Even the man who witnessed it just watched it happen and did nothing, acting like it was no big deal.  In my backpack was my passport, wallet, camera, phone, debit card, ipod, key, cash, bible, books, clothes, etc.  I was alone in Retiro (the opposite side of Buenos Aires… a city of 14 million) without a single peso or phone or number to call.  I don’t know how I did it, but I somehow managed to run to the police station that was in the train station.  While bawling my eyes out, I tried to explain what had just happened in Spanish.  Haha I spoke the best Castellano of my life.  It was just a flowin!  I waited in the police station for about an hour.  The policeman was just hitting on me and flirting and I had had enough.  Thankfully, another policeman allowed me to ride on a cop car to another police station so that I could report the robbery.  It took about 3 hours and the woman was really short with me.  She was frustrated because I couldn’t remember my argentine phone number exactly or the color pants that the lady had been wearing.  Well SORRRRY LADY! I WAS A LITTLE PREOCCUPIED WITH THE POOP AND MY BAGS AND THE TRAFFIC THANK YOU VERY MUCH INSTEAD OF NOTICING IF THE LADY HAD ANY STYLE!  The police were of very little help.  There were also a group of 4 men reporting the exact same thing, another woman, and two girls the previous day who had all fallen for the same scheme.  I then hit the streets again and thank goodness a guy finally gave me 6 pesos so I could take the subte (subway) home.  I get to my apartment building, realize I am also without key, and sit outside on the sidewalk, waiting for my host mom to eventually come down.  That was the lovely ending of my trip.  A wonderful little ditty, I know J

PS:  When I was in my frenzied rant to the cop, listing all the things that had been in my backpack, I eventually realized my bible had also been stolen.  The cop told me that maybe it'd do the robber some good to read it.  Then, I realized fat chance, since my Bible is in English.  But alas!  They had stolen my Spanish-English Dictionary too!  Que bueno! How convenient!   J Ohhh life.

Sorry for the length!  If you really read this all, you are officially awesome and you deserve a cookie. 

Mar Del Plata - Where the Sun Likes to KILL YOU!!!

Mar Del Plata = Sunburn trap of the World

Me and 3 other girls had plans to go to Mar Del Plata this past weekend.  It’s the city in Argentina famous for its beautiful beaches.  At 2 a.m. Friday night, our bus left the station here in Buenos Aires.  At 7:30 a.m., we arrived in Mar Del Plata!!! It was hot and beautiful and not a cloud in the sky.  The only issue we had in the morning was my near-disaster episode when I couldn’t find a public restroom, had to pee, and nearly exploded.  Then, we laid out at the beach for the next 5 hours.  At 8 a.m. we were one of the first people there, but a couple hours later, it was absolutely packed!!   

Beaches are different in two aspects.  1) There are constantly people walking around selling things.  They hover over your towel and you have to try not to make eye contact.  2) Apparently they’re against bathing suit bottoms.  Almost everyone wore thong bottoms.  Yes, even old large ladies with much cellulite.  Also, men in Speedos – not usually a pretty site.  

I swam in the ocean by myself for a really long time.  Well, not by myself, but with a couple thousand Argentinean strangers.  Even though I wasn’t with any friends that I knew, I was literally laughing out loud to myself every time I would get knocked down by the waves.  It was beautiful and I was having the time of my life!  One thing that this trip has taught me is that I don’t always need to be surrounded by friends.  Sometimes, it’s okay to be alone and just appreciate where you are.

Back in the States, I NEVER burn.  It takes a LOT of sun to make Karen pink.  Therefore, why would I want to spent 45 pesos if I "don't ever burn"?? I LOOK LIKE A VALENTINE’S DAY CARD.  I could be one of those live-person telegram things like in the movie Elf.  Seriously just paint a heart on my belly and call me good. 

So at 3 p.m., we decided that we were burnt and miserable and hated our lives, so we found our hostel and after a couple hours of crying/yelling/complaining/cold showering/aloe-applying/giving the silent treatment to the girl from Asia who never burns. . .  we slept.  With a blanket to cover the window because we hate the sun.  The devil made the sun.

Then, we went to a cute café in the night and I ordered a Cesar salad because it was the first place I’ve seen here that has those!  And of course, Cesar is close to ranch.  I was happier than a puppy.  Too bad when I got it, the white dressing was I think fish guts. 

ps: Flan is the new best thing of my life.

2 of the girls wanted to go back to the hostel, but Tracy and I went for a walk at midnight down to the beach.  We walked for a couple hours.  It was BEAUTIFUL!  I made friends with a couple stray dogs.  We walked up on a sidewalk that overlooks the ocean from the top of a hill.  SOOO glad I didn’t go back to the hostel.  They thought that it wouldn’t be safe (girls alone at night), but it is so different here.  At 1:30 a.m. it is completely normal to see little kids riding their tricycles outside and old people galore chillin on the streets. 

The hostel was awesome.  I was excited to meet people from all over the world, but then disappointed to find out they don't speak Ingles OR Espanol.

Tracy KNEW that I wasn’t in the mood for a boliche (club) because it would be inevitable that people would bump into my sunburn.  Low and behold, we went to a boliche.  I asked a guy how much it cost to get in and apparently he works there and with his friend, took the two of us in as his dates.  This included VIP wristbands with free everything!!!  I love free stuff and cool blue wristbands more than I even like to drink.  I made it an early night because I was feeling miserable and dehydrated from my sunburnt.  The clubs don’t open till 2 so I guess 4:30 is an early night here.  This means that I had over a 2 hour conversation with a guy in Castellano!!!  Usually, there is always another American who adds to the conversation.  Even though I didn’t want to go to a club, it was worth it, just to I could talk for that long in Spanish and learn some of the slang words and phrases.  That was the best practice that I’ve gotten in a long time. 

In the morning, we covered our skin and walked to a park to sit in the shade and eat fruit from the 10,000 fruit stands on every street corner.  

This trip in general allowed me to meet and converse with more Argentineans than ever!  I mustered the courage to start dialogue with random people in bathrooms, waiting for the bus, a sweet girl who was on my bus, and old woman who tried to hook me up with her grandson, etc.  Twas great great practice.

Ps: Smoking is 94% more common here.  It's not even weird to see 15 yr olds smoking with their parents.

Then, a day of traveling back to Buenos Aires.  That 5 hour bus ride where I wasn’t allowed to let my back touch the seat was just a joy.  Once we got off the bus, no one talked on the subte.  We were all ready to come home.

However, my lovely host mom had empanadas sitting on the table waiting for me.  J  The trip was sooo worth it.