Getting in the Groove of the BsAs life.

Hey everybody! Disclaimer:  This is a little outdated.  I wrote this post over a week ago and just never got around to publishing it.  Enjoy!

Last Saturday:  Emily and I took advantage of the “Internacional Festival de Cine Something or Another”.  I’m too lazy to look up the name, but there is a huge International Film Festival in Buenos Aires.  On a 75 degree (complete guess seeing how the world lives in Celcius here..) beautiful Saturday, we sat in an alley between two buildings on folding chairs and watched a move in French with Spanish subtitles about two little girls from China on a big screen outdoors in the open air for free! 

Then, we went to a cute cheap pizza place.  The pizza actually had sauce!  I felt a little at home J Then, we went to La Feria de Libros en Plaza Italia.  This is a huge used book sale outside on the sidewalk.  Also, there are little artisan stands all over with hand-crafted odds & ends.  Lots of fun!

Sunday:  I had the urge to do Yoga.  Therefore, I googled, “where can I do Yoga in BsAs”.  I walked 25 blocks (one-way) to a park by myself to take a free yoga class.  At first, I saw an older man with a group of about 40 elderly people doing some form of possibly Yoga-ish moves.  They looked like they were trying to be fish swimming through make-believe water if that gives you an image at all.  I joined for approximately 6 minutes, laughing at myself the whole time.  Then, across the park I saw a group of younger people, only 30s and 40s who were doing what I actually recognized as Yoga!  I thoroughly enjoyed this hour.  However, even though there were maybe forty people in the class, for some reason the instructor kept singling me out to correct me!  I’m not exactly sure if it was because he thought my Spanish was worse than it is, or if my Spanish really is that bad and instead of being upside-down, I was supposed to have my foot behind my head. 

After Yoga, I went running around the lake.  This is possibly my favorite place in the city.  It is like an escape from the city.  Escapes are what I need.  I am not a city girl.  That is one of the biggest things I have learned from being here.  Just not meant for me!  Cow please.  In other words, I really enjoy having this park to go to in order to run around the lake, under the palm trees, and watch the evil geese scout out their prey.  The only down fall is that I spend an hour and a half walking each time just to get to and from the place I like to run.

Hence: why I don't run very frequently.  I made a light joke one night after dinner about how I'm gaining weight.  My host mom told me that I should run more and eat less for breakfast.... HA!  Nelly (host grandma) has had over 50 students stay with her over the years and she said she has never had a student leave WITHOUT gaining at least 10-12 lbs.  Awesome.  Why break the trend!?!  :) You only live once.

Sunday:  I went to La Feria en Recoleta.  Recoleta is one of my favorite barrios (there are 48 official barrios of BsAs I think).  This one is really nice and clean.  The fair environment is great.  Live music.  Guys dancing in the park.  Puppet show in the park for kids and Karen.  Filled with people sitting in the grass.  Then the fair itself is hundreds of artisans sellign their hand-made what-nots on blankets and booths.  Lots of fun stuff to see!

Walking back through the park, everything was covered in white.  Loads of paper and trash.  I was told there had been a riot due to the election in Peru because there are so many Peruvians here in BsAs.  I had seen the mass of people from a distance earlier in teh day.  Later a woman also waiting for the colectivo tried to explain to me why the park and streets were torn apart – usually it was a pretty area.  I don’t think I understood her completely, but that’s the gist of what I got.

During the week, I am starting to get in a routine.  It is less of a “vacation” or an "oh my gosh I'm in Argentina!" time of of trying new things each day.  Instead, it's more of just “this is the city that I live in” sort of mindset.  Most students here travel almost every weekend and I don’t.  There’s a long story behind this, but it’s turning out to be alright.  I'm getting to know the city better than most I think.  Things that used to seem so unfamiliar to me are now becoming just part of everyday life.  Now, I don't even think twice about taking the subway, finding which colectivos take me to other barrios, planning trips for myself, purchasing things in Spanish, asking strangers for directions, bringing my laundry a block over to the laundry place each week, eating empanadas every day for lunch, drinking mate all the time, hailing colectivos, hailing taxis, having my university be a 17 story building instead of spread across a campus, and taking my old-fashioned elevator with the manual-gated door up to my apartment on the 6th floor where I live each day.  

People keep asking me how my classes are.  I feel like that’s an impossible question.  The whole semester is based off of a midterm and final.  That’s it.  My classes with other international students I’m sure I’ll do fine in, but my classes with Argentines, I’m a little worried.  I just have NO idea what to expect!  I think one of my professors will hold me to just about the same bar as everyone else which is terrifying.  Most of the argentines have no idea what goes on half the time!  On the other hand, one of my other professors always addresses me in English.  I think she thinks I’m dumber than I am.  That's totally fine by me.

Last week:  I’d say probably even a worse week in my life than when Megan ran over and killed my best friend/pet Lily while I was in the car on my eleventh Birthday.   Haha yeah, I’m pretty sure this past week tops that on the “no me gusta” scale.  But it's okay now and I'm just glad it's over and everything's fine!!!  **Disclaimer:  The next paragraph will be a complaining rant that is unnecessary to read but is written so I may remember and later look back and laugh at my awesome Argentine luck.

Getting my visa just became the death of me.  Exaggeration.  I am not dead.  However, I am still visa-less.  Because of being robbed and having to get a new passport, I am doing the process weeks after everyone else already went together – therefore I am in this alone.  The process requires:  taking two subte trains for 45 minutes to the busy part of Retiro (these couple blocks near where the place is located make up the transportation capital of Argentina, the exact place I was robbed) and then walk over the train tracks to a somewhat sketch part where the Migrations Office is located.  We were required to bring a bundle of useless paperwork including professional photos, stuff signed by the University, my police report, passport, copies of all my documentations, background check, etc. and 300 pesos cash.  (every piece of paper of value to me in life plus cash).  A great situation.

It didn’t help that I was probably overly sensitive, paranoid, and scared to do so, just because I haven’t been back there since the robbery.  I am SO grateful that my lovely friend Janelle offered to wake up at 6 a.m. to accompany me the first time I went last week!  That was really really nice of her.

However:  Since my passport number is new and the Argentine government hates me, I was forced to go on a wild goose chase across the city for a week.  I had to take the subway back home, make another copy of my police report, then by myself go back to the U.S Embassy for the 3^rd time, stay a couple hours to have them write me a letter to say that my passport is legit, have the man at the Embassy laugh at me and say that the other man at Migrations was wrong and just hates me and I didn't need a letter because a replacement passport should be enough! Phew, run-on sentence!  Anyways, so I leave the Embassy and go back to Retiro by myself now and wander around looking for a building that I didn’t even know the name of to ask for them to legalize the letter from the Embassy that I really didn’t need in the first place.  Of course, I get there at 1:50 pm and the place had closed at 1:30 pm.  OF COURSE.  So then I take the subte home and at 7 the next morning go back to Retiro by myself for the 3^rd time this week and find the mysterious building where they legalize stuff (which is a process I truly don’t understand.  Anyone can bring any form to be legalized?  Then what’s the point of legalizing it!  The man who puts the stamp on it has no proof where you obtained the document anyways!  How do they know what they’re legalizing!  Is it just a way to get your money?)  Well, after whipping out my lovely intermediate Spanish-speaking skills to explain what I needed, I waited in 3 different lines, taking numbers, filling out form, going to the bank to pay yet again, and waiting some more.  Then once I had finally obtained it (!) I went back to the Migrations Office in Retiro to submit all the important papers of my life.  Praise the Lord I don’t have to go back again!!!  …. Until next week.  Can’t wait! :

In other words, I was so busy with this, that I was forced to skip class and sadly, didn’t have time to make my plans to Uraguay pull through.  My friends are now going, but I just couldn’t swing it last week enough to buy tickets.  Besides, the irreliable postal system likes to deny my ability to have a debit card. 

Friday night was La Noche Internacional at the University.  Surprisingly, it was actually a lot of fun!  This University is just crawling with students from all over.  Each country had a different table.  There were tons of different foods, costumes, singing, and dancing!  They had the loud music, strobe light, live band type of atmosphere.  I have to admit though, it was my first time being at a place where it’s okay to be drinking and dancing in the school building with your professors! 

Saturday:  I went to the “yoga class” again.  This time, it wasn’t so much a yoga class.  I’m not really sure what it was and I’m not really sure if I was invited to join them.  However, I exchanged back massages with a woman with a tennis ball for an hour!  It was a group of eight adults in their 50s.  I walked by a couple hours later and they were still sitting in a circle... It was bizarre.  Tranquil but bizarre.  I'm not really sure why I sat down with them and I'm kind of wondering what they thought of my brief company..

Then, I went to church.  I officially know half of the Hail Mary.

Sunday:  Iglesia.  Then, I took the bus for an hour to the barrio Mataderos.  La Feria en Mataderos is another city feria where the artisans sell absolutely everything.  This one in particular shows a totally different culture than most of the rest of BsAs.  This is where the biggest slaughter-houses used to be.  They still ship cows through this part of the city, I guess.  (Argentina is known for it's cattle - if you didn't know!) There was a small museum there which showed a lot of the history and culture of the gaucho lifestyle.  These are the "cowboys" of Argentina.  So much violence and killing!  After seeing many actual photos of the slaughtering, I was in no mood to eat meat.  Instead, I had an icecream cone filled with dulce de leche instead of icecream.  BEST invention EVER.

So that's the next summary of what I've been up to here.  Honestly, the homesickness comes in waves.  Not only do I miss the people, places, ranch dressing, peanut butter, and cheddar cheese, but I think more than anything I just miss the security of what is familiar.  Yet at the same time, I realize that learning how to live in a huge city is good for me and that everyone should step outside of their comfort zone and challenge themselves to learn.   

Thanks for reading and have a wonderful Easter!

Random Thoughts of Life in the BsAs

Living in BsAs -  (that’s the acronym for Buenos Aires if you didn’t pick it up.)  The first time I thought it was someone trying to sound cool by saying “B.S” like “bull sh*t”.  But nope!  I see it on buses and stuff.  It’s because it’s the first and last letter of each word.  Well, at least that’s what I figured out.  Ingenious!

Life here is starting to become routine.  For the past couple weeks, I have stayed in BsAs.

Class:  I have four.  2 with Argentines (Psicologia Social y Sociologia General), and 2 without (Literature & History of Latin America 19^th Century).  With my classes with argentines, I find it a bit overwhelming.  It is one thing to take a college class, it is another when it’s taught in a different language.  I feel like I typed that sentence in my last blog post.  Perhaps!  And I've made a few friends with a few locals from those 2 classes, even though I feel bad because I feel like they are “pity” friends.  It can’t be a very exciting friendship for them, seeing how our conversations consist of only basic and obvious topics and “what? Repeat please! Slowerrrr…” 

I went down to the Capital – Plaza de Mayo again to the place where we do background checks to re-do the fingerprints and pick up my form for my visa.  Going here is always a horrible task.  Especially when you have to go alone because everyone else already went.  THEIR passports were’nt stolen.  Now, I find it almost hilarious to joke about.  As I walk down the street with my passport, I just glare at anyone who attempts to make eye-contact. 

On the way home though, I stopped at a McDonalds! It was a treat J Yet, a lot more expensive here.  And, still no Ranch dressing.  It was my luch.  At 5:30p.m. 

BAILE :  First of all, salsa dancing is my new favorite thing.  I know that living in Buenos Aires you are supposed to learn and love tango because, well, it’s Buenos Aires – where it was invented;  However, definitely not my cup of tea.  I love dancing, but tango is probably the most challenging genre I’ve tried.  Frankly, it’s boring to me.  There’s no energy and you can’t move; you just follow the lead of the man.  I prefer to have the control.  :) I especially am not fond of dancing so close to the sweaty, old, smelly, creepy, and did I say sweaty and smelly? Men.  At this place you can dance tango, salsa, swing, or rock.  Rock is something that baffles my brain.  It’s fun, but definitely something that I have NEVER seen anyone in the U.S. do.  Ever.  People here look at me like I’m crazy when I say that, because apparently it was invented there, but perhaps it’s because many years after Elvis, we have transformed into a generation without rhythm that only knows how to grind/scrump/nasty it up. So sad!  This place is also great becuase it's cheap!  You only pay once and then you can stay for all classes of the night until 6 a.m.!  I do this instead of spending my money on a gym membership, it's like killing two birds with oen stone!  Boliches/clubs/bars just aren't really my scene.  I've tried it and it feels likea  waste of money.  I'd much rather spend it doing actual dancing and bring my own water bottle, because I'm a grandmother. 

Also, last weekend I went to the Jardin Japones (Japanese Garden).  Era muy lindo!  Beautiful. 

That same day, I went to a Marcha para Autismo (March for Autism) for the International Autism Awareness day.  It was at the capital and I pictured a huge march, but it turns out that it was just a small group of people walking back and forth with signs and balloons and passing out flyers.  I didn’t stay too long.

Things I have learned: 

1)       Colectivos (city buses) don’t come in the night.  Hardly ever.  You will end up waiting at least an hour and encounter lovely conversations with creepy men who love to harrass you because they think it's funny and will not leave.   

2)      In order to avoid this, you may try to take a taxi instead.  Even though it’s more money, safety first, right?  Oh but wait!  Also a bad idea because taxi drivers LOOVE to take advantage of you and rip you off 175 pesos by giving you counterfeit money. 

3)      Then, you will be across the city two days later and think you have plenty of money to get through the night, but JUST KIDDING! PSYCH! Gotcha.  You’re screwed. 

4)      This is especially awesome when the reason I have negative 200 pesos (borrowed from a friend) is because I was robbed. 

5)      Not only was I robbed, but the postal system is really reliable.  My debit card was mailed 4 weeks ago and still no card.  Cool life.

Hahaha now for random thoughts of living here:

The style here: reminds me of the 80s.  Girls in skinny jeans and leggings.  Denim jackets.  Looooong hair.  It feels like a contest to see which girl’s hair can touch their butt.  Also, they never straighten their hair.  It always just has natural waves.  Usually, without make-up.  It’s a much more natural look.  Usually, girls wear their long hair up in really messy buns on the very top of their head.  They do this crazy thing where they don’t even use a hair-tie!  They just sit in class and whip it up by twisting it around and tying the bun with their hair!  I tried it.  I failed. 

They use SO many dishes!  Who knew that eating an apple would require two plates and a knife and a napkin!  A bit unnecessary I would say. 

Nelly (my host mom’s mom) loves to rub garlic on my stomach, back, and feet.  Every time I have a bug bite.  By garlic, I mean like a garlic.  I didn’t even know that was a vegetable!  I guess I did, but I’ve only ever seen it as a spice.  Anyways, she is convinced that it’s as magical as Windex and cures all ailments.

Nelly is hilarious.  She’s 75.  Last night, she went out with her friends and I heard her come back at 4.a.m.  She makes me feel lame whenever I get back before 8 a.m.  She tells me I need to “enjoy myself” more, but I’m not really a fan of the clubs, drinking, or nightlife in general.  She also is convinced that I need a boyfriend.  Or an “amigovio”. This is funny to me.  Amigo/Novio.  Friend/Boyfriend.  She is also an incredibly opinionated woman.  Love her!  I really lucked out with my living situation here.  Silvia is awesome too.

Silvia taught me how to cook a little.  One thing that I find really cool is how she uses her spices to cook.  Instead of buying spices in a little jar like I’m used to, she grows plants in the flowerpots in the windows.  Basil..Oregenaw…? There was a whole list.  I’m not a spice expert, as you can tell by my spelling.  She just tears off a little branch, rips the tips of the leaves a little so the flavor will spread, throws the branch in, then removes it when it's time to eat!

Oh here’s something that I can’t believe I haven’t mentioned yet.  Men.  On the streets.  They’re disgusting.  I can’t tell you how many times a day I get whistles, hollers, kissy noises, honks, winks, etc.  Don’t get me wrong, I was completely flattered the first day.  No, the first week.  I was loving it!  Then, I realized that they do it to absolutely everyone.  It’s just another one of those cultural differences.  Guys are much more upfront here.  Someone explained it to me that instead of it being rude to whistle at a girl, it’s almost rude if you don’t let her know if you think she’s attractive.  In an Argentine movie that I was watching, the main character was just meandering down the street and literally turned all the way around to check out a girl.  I laughed that they put that in the movie and I realized how often I see it here.  They don’t even try to hide it!

Breast-feeding in public is completelyl socially acceptable too.  I saw three women in a row sitting on the subway openly breast-feeding their babies. 

Other random fact: they don't use the word "random" here.  Well, at least I have asked and asked and have yet to find a translation.  If you know of one, let me know.

Anyways, Living in BsAs, if anything, has taught me to become a pro liar.  For the first time, I can lie and not feel guilty!  It’s fabulous.  Hopefully it doesn’t lead to moral conflict upon returning to the States when I am a compulsive liar.  But, it’s my defense mechanism against creepy guys.  I wrote something similar as my facebook status this week:  My lies of the night were: “Nope, I’m here on vacation, so I leave this week.  I live a block from Cabildo Ave.  My name is Chelsea.   Solo hablo aleman (I only speak German).  I am a lesbian.  I live here with my girlfriend.  I don’t have a phone, it was stolen (TRUE FACT).  I don’t have facebook.  I only e-mail professors.  Communicating through technology is against my religion.” 

Then, whenever people on the subway, restaurants, streets, etc. try to place things on my lap to sell them to me, I simply say sentences like “I don’t understand.  I don’t speak Spanish.  I don’t know what is going on” but I talk with the worst accent I can and purposely mess up verb tenses.  I sound like an idiot, but they go away. 

Museum in recoletta.  Bellas Artes.  I went to an art museum for fun.  It was cool how from my History and Civilization of Latin American class back at CMU, I remembered learning about some of the artists and recognized some here in the museum!  I felt cool.  It was really fun going with friends who actually wanted to stop at each painting and analyze it and look for symbolism.  We are dorks.  But, eventually we just started coming up with stories/soap operas about what is going on in the painting.  Aka:  he killed a man and she doesn’t know the body’s in the basement.  The girl slept with the painter and that’s why her face is like that.  The husband is obviously clueless”.  Etc. 

I went to one of the zoos in the city yesterday!  There were giraffes, llamas, elephants, hippos, toucan birds, and some weird South American animals that I have never seen or heard of before!  But it was CRAZY because these giraffes are surrouned by sky scrapers!  It was blowing my mind.  50 feet away, over the fence was the busy street filled with colectivos and taxis.  I walk down that city road alllll the time and NEVER KNEW that there hippos and zebras on the other side of the wall!  Just crazy to me how it is in the middle of a huge city.

I have a horrible addiction to dulce de leche.  [It's like a sweet heavenly carmel substance, but smoother].  I used to feel guilty opening the jar from the fridge and taking a spoonful when my host mom wasn’t looking.  Now, OVER THAT!  I’m at the point where I put a few spoonfuls in my Cornflakes in the morning.  I’m bad. 

Silvia yesterday came to my room and told me that I can shower if I want to. . . I wan’t sure how to take that.

Anyways, there ya have it!  My life in a fishbowl =) 3 and a half months to go. . . Then Spain!