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!