I have done loads of fabulous Argentine-y things in the past month since I’ve updated this. Today I promised myself I would update, however I have zero motivation nor desire to muster back to the depths of my brain to recall the more eventful events of my month that you would actually care about. Instead, I will leave out all the grand and spectacular adventures I’ve been having and instead ramble about something you don’t care about, but that I find rather humorous. Today. A typical day in the life. With my luck here, I promise you there is never a dull moment.
I naturally awakened this morning at 6:14, three minutes before my alarm due to the fact that Argentines don’t believe in shutting windows even when it’s 40 degrees. They don't even use screens in the windows! After delighting in the half a bowl of corn-flakes that my host mom leaves out for me each night, I merrily skipped to school. Had you jumped inside my head, you would surely hear the musical hit "I love life. Life loves me. Everything in the world makes me happy. Let’s go to Disneyland” from the Princess Diaries soundtrack. I was in a jolly mood. 15 blocks later, I arrived at the 17 floored University, took the elevator up to my class, and thanks to my silly putty that I keep handy in bag, stayed awake and alert for my morning class, Sociologia, with argentines. The whole class was told to read the (illegal photocopied texts that they make you buy) with a dictionary at hand because the material has quite dense vocabulary. Super! I was then instructed to read it with a Spanish English dictionary as well as a regular “What the crap does that word mean” dictionary.
Next, came my short-little-no-big-deal trip to the gym that I almost didn’t take. At this gym, I have a personal trainer (man who works there and yells at me for using machines incorrectly. Apparently you aren’t supposed to just “move stuff around”. After being corrected on 10 machines I felt rather stupid and pulled out a mat to do crunches. He can't correct my machine-usage if I'm using a machine! But of course. It is possible to use the floor wrong too. My head wasn't "to the ceiling" - psh, whatever that means. Anyways, side note: I attended a dance class today at the gym on the top floor. If you have seen the movie Center Stage where they take a dance class in NYC, this was EXACTLY that. We danced to a song called “Sexy” and I don’t think I’ve heard a man (the instructor) ever yell the word “Foxxy” so many times. Twas superb. Really! I was loving it.
Then, I am on the old-school elliptical. The music was jammin, maybe I was going to fast, mabye I was bouncing a little, dancing a little.... Besides the point, I roll my ankle. It hurt worse than something that is considered painful. It caused a scene and stuff went down. The personal trainer that thinks I’m stupid made me lie on my back while he put my foot in the air, moving it, hurting it, not helping at all. Of course, I choose to sprain my ankle the one day that I didn’t shave my legs. Whoops! Lo siento, sir! Okay lets, be honest, 80% of the days it could happen and my legs would look exactly the same. But still. It was the fourth of my leg where it’s been… a while.
I say “todo bien… no pasa nada!” (I’m totes fine) and leave. Why did I not take a taxi? . . . Because I am a moron. I limp half way home. Then I see that the post office would be another 10 blocks. Stupidly, “todo bien” was still in my head so I went. After over an hour of waiting to mail 3 postcards because of course that’s how Argentina rolls, I begin walking again. Pathetically limping again. I am wearing my bright blue work out shorts and tye-dyed T-shirt and feeling unnecessarily paranoid, with my backpack on backwards. After being lectured after the robbery for dressing so “stupid American-like” I was paranoid and convinced that EVERYONE who saw me limping knew I had just came from the ATM and was walking(limping) like a vulnerable dying bird with bundles of cash in my possession. A dying bird that couldn't chase after anyone who tried to steal my backpack. It was the longest 30 blocks of my lfie. I stopped to buy fruit from a stand on the street. The man literally pointed at my ankle/limp and laughed. Crossing streets was just my favorite. Crossing a 6 laned road takes me approximately 6 times longer in my current condition. Then, the light changes and cars slam on their brakes and honk and I just watch them go by as I inch my way to the other side. But now, I am soooo close, I don’t need a taxi. No big deal. I can do it. Stupid, stupid, Karen.
I was literally laughing/crying out loud to myself while walking down the street.
When I got home, my host mom was super great and gave me ice and a banana. I had to convince her that I don’t need to go to the hospital. However, when I mentioned that maybe I will shower today, she took the ice away, put a placemat on the floor so I wouldn’t fall again (she’s super great) and even turned on the water. I think she was a little overly excited at the news that I might take a shower and become clean...
And here I am. Typing this because I am unable to move from my bed and have not much else to do. I will spend my night continuing to convince my mom here that I am fine, a klutz, do this all the time, and do not need to go to the hospital.
That’s thus far, a day in the life.
:) Enjoy your day!!!
I'll type a real update in a couple days. I went to Uraguay, saw paintings by Picaso, and loads more.
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