http://www.thedustycamel.org/alisa/
But come back to this one every now and then because I have a pretty background picture.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
About that weekend in Mendoza.
It was a riot. An actual riot. Danger and violence included. I won´t lie and say I´m not one to be dramatic, but some pretty interesting things went down. I´ll try to keep it chronological.
First of all, there was the 13-hour bus ride. We came prepared with snacks and whisky. Our meek but friendly bus attendant, Enrique, led us in a bus-wide bingo game. Between the four of us, we knew someone would win. Well, I WON!!!! Sorry to brag, but I´m awful excited that I won a bottle of Santa Julia sauvignon blanc in a game of bus bingo. I didn´t even feel that bad when I ran up to claim my prize, past the little old man clutching his losing bingo paper. I totally stole his game. Anyway, it helped make the bus ride go faster since we all knocked out on our pathetic "semi-camas".
Day one in Mendoza, we were pretty wrecked from the ride but decided to find an activity that involved wine and bicycles. Success! We got dropped off at BikesAndWines somewhat near this long stretch of bodegas, or vineyards. We were greeted by huge, sloshing cups of wine and invited to choose our bikes. No helmets, no waivers, nothing. Being me, I was wearing a silky mini dress and sandals. No pants, no problem! They let us loose on the local highway with an oversimplified map of the surrounding terrain and a vigorous promise of lots of great wine up ahead. Well, we barely survived the ride to the first bodega. At one point, we were pedaling furiously on a one-lane-dirt highway, competing with two lanes of traffic, mostly buses and trucks. At one point, a bus flew by and actually skimmed my hair. Yaaahhooo! By the time we got to a vineyard and parked our decrepit bikes, we were shaken and knew we wouldn´t make it to any others before they closed. So we bought several bottles of absolutely phenomenal wine, enjoyed them on a lovely terrace, and just chilled out. Maybe a little too much. Let´s just say that the bike ride back was more dangerous, but so much more fun. We passed out hard that night after some delicious steak and, of course, more wine.
Day two, we happened upon some other pals from our program in Buenos Aires who were staying at another hostel. They were walking by our hostel and saw us through the window! Luckily, they had planned a cool trip out to the Andes to go horseback riding for the afternoon. We hustled over to their hostel, booked it, and then played ping pong and drank beer while waiting to get picked up. I can´t even describe how cool it was to see the Andes from a distance -- and then drive into them. Once we got to the horse "facility", which was a very, very rural barn with an equally rural set of horses and a low-slung stone hut, we were paired up with our animals by a smiley gaucho named Diego. Being of unimpressive stature, I was given a saggy little grey and white steed named Domino (who turned out to be a totally decent ride in the end). They led us across streams, up some pretty gnarly hills, down some slippery rock faces -- the hairiest part of the ride -- and through beautiful, high-altitude fields nestled in the valleys between some of the lower peaks. Whenever Diego felt that one of the horses was lagging, he´d snap off a branch and hand it to the rider, then yell AAIIYEEE until the horse got terrified and sprinted off. Very funny, until you were the one bouncing along like a rag doll. He gave me my own nature-made whip because Domino chose eating over walking, and at first I felt pretty dumb spanking my fat old horse with a bunch of twiggy flowers. It worked though, and I felt really comfortable riding after a little while.
When we got back, we were greeted with a huge asado -- cooked on a small fire next to the hut, but sooo delicious. They also gave us unlimited wine. I mean truly without limits. We all ate our dinner in a bite, sip, bite, sip manner, and I don´t know at which point everyone besides myself and the other five girls I was with left, but soon we were alone with the gaucho and his friend Santiago. We played guitar by the fire, kept guzzling that free wine, I had a nap on a log next to the fire, our friend Lillian melted her boot in the fire, etc. My friend Caroline got a little silly -- though no sillier than the rest of us -- and broke a glass, then fell off her chair into the shards. None of us realized that she had hurt herself until five minutes later, when she was walking around with blood streaming down her arm, looking confused. We got her to the sink in the hut, and while Morgan held Caroline´s hand under cold water, I helped the gaucho make tourniquets with a dishtowel and a knife. He tied it on with his teeth! We all sobered up as much as possible, piled into the mini bus that had been waiting for us, and booked it to the nearest clinic. All they did was clean up the cut a little bit, so we went into Mendoza to another hospital, where they stitched her up. Mind you -- it´s 2AM and we are all covered in dirt, horse hair, and wine stains.
I am leaving out some details, but I´m sure I´ve included plenty and this post is hugely long. After all that jazz, we got back to the hostel safely, Caroline was all nicely bandaged up thanks to Morgan (who waited with her for hours), and woke up only slightly worse for the wear on Sunday. We spent the day trolling for ice cream and laying in the sun, fainting from dehydration, re-hydrating, finding more ice cream, then piling onto that damn bus again. I´m pretty sure the bus broke down in the middle of the night, but in true Argentine fashion, the bus just limped along slowly until we finally got home.
Mendoza, you were good to us. Sorry for partying. Pictures to come!
First of all, there was the 13-hour bus ride. We came prepared with snacks and whisky. Our meek but friendly bus attendant, Enrique, led us in a bus-wide bingo game. Between the four of us, we knew someone would win. Well, I WON!!!! Sorry to brag, but I´m awful excited that I won a bottle of Santa Julia sauvignon blanc in a game of bus bingo. I didn´t even feel that bad when I ran up to claim my prize, past the little old man clutching his losing bingo paper. I totally stole his game. Anyway, it helped make the bus ride go faster since we all knocked out on our pathetic "semi-camas".
Day one in Mendoza, we were pretty wrecked from the ride but decided to find an activity that involved wine and bicycles. Success! We got dropped off at BikesAndWines somewhat near this long stretch of bodegas, or vineyards. We were greeted by huge, sloshing cups of wine and invited to choose our bikes. No helmets, no waivers, nothing. Being me, I was wearing a silky mini dress and sandals. No pants, no problem! They let us loose on the local highway with an oversimplified map of the surrounding terrain and a vigorous promise of lots of great wine up ahead. Well, we barely survived the ride to the first bodega. At one point, we were pedaling furiously on a one-lane-dirt highway, competing with two lanes of traffic, mostly buses and trucks. At one point, a bus flew by and actually skimmed my hair. Yaaahhooo! By the time we got to a vineyard and parked our decrepit bikes, we were shaken and knew we wouldn´t make it to any others before they closed. So we bought several bottles of absolutely phenomenal wine, enjoyed them on a lovely terrace, and just chilled out. Maybe a little too much. Let´s just say that the bike ride back was more dangerous, but so much more fun. We passed out hard that night after some delicious steak and, of course, more wine.
Day two, we happened upon some other pals from our program in Buenos Aires who were staying at another hostel. They were walking by our hostel and saw us through the window! Luckily, they had planned a cool trip out to the Andes to go horseback riding for the afternoon. We hustled over to their hostel, booked it, and then played ping pong and drank beer while waiting to get picked up. I can´t even describe how cool it was to see the Andes from a distance -- and then drive into them. Once we got to the horse "facility", which was a very, very rural barn with an equally rural set of horses and a low-slung stone hut, we were paired up with our animals by a smiley gaucho named Diego. Being of unimpressive stature, I was given a saggy little grey and white steed named Domino (who turned out to be a totally decent ride in the end). They led us across streams, up some pretty gnarly hills, down some slippery rock faces -- the hairiest part of the ride -- and through beautiful, high-altitude fields nestled in the valleys between some of the lower peaks. Whenever Diego felt that one of the horses was lagging, he´d snap off a branch and hand it to the rider, then yell AAIIYEEE until the horse got terrified and sprinted off. Very funny, until you were the one bouncing along like a rag doll. He gave me my own nature-made whip because Domino chose eating over walking, and at first I felt pretty dumb spanking my fat old horse with a bunch of twiggy flowers. It worked though, and I felt really comfortable riding after a little while.
When we got back, we were greeted with a huge asado -- cooked on a small fire next to the hut, but sooo delicious. They also gave us unlimited wine. I mean truly without limits. We all ate our dinner in a bite, sip, bite, sip manner, and I don´t know at which point everyone besides myself and the other five girls I was with left, but soon we were alone with the gaucho and his friend Santiago. We played guitar by the fire, kept guzzling that free wine, I had a nap on a log next to the fire, our friend Lillian melted her boot in the fire, etc. My friend Caroline got a little silly -- though no sillier than the rest of us -- and broke a glass, then fell off her chair into the shards. None of us realized that she had hurt herself until five minutes later, when she was walking around with blood streaming down her arm, looking confused. We got her to the sink in the hut, and while Morgan held Caroline´s hand under cold water, I helped the gaucho make tourniquets with a dishtowel and a knife. He tied it on with his teeth! We all sobered up as much as possible, piled into the mini bus that had been waiting for us, and booked it to the nearest clinic. All they did was clean up the cut a little bit, so we went into Mendoza to another hospital, where they stitched her up. Mind you -- it´s 2AM and we are all covered in dirt, horse hair, and wine stains.
I am leaving out some details, but I´m sure I´ve included plenty and this post is hugely long. After all that jazz, we got back to the hostel safely, Caroline was all nicely bandaged up thanks to Morgan (who waited with her for hours), and woke up only slightly worse for the wear on Sunday. We spent the day trolling for ice cream and laying in the sun, fainting from dehydration, re-hydrating, finding more ice cream, then piling onto that damn bus again. I´m pretty sure the bus broke down in the middle of the night, but in true Argentine fashion, the bus just limped along slowly until we finally got home.
Mendoza, you were good to us. Sorry for partying. Pictures to come!
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Feeling random, alone in my office...
I just wanted to mention something that has long since struck me as odd about Argentina. That might be a bold statement because every country is different, blah blah, but the olive oil here is seriously bizarre. It has this very distinctive sweet, chemical flavor that is so strong it is imparted to every single food it touches. Little things that you wouldn´t even realize contain olive oil are tiringly indistinguishable from each other because they all. Taste. Like. Olive oil.
Not gonna miss that.
On a non-whiny note, I´m having a girls´long weekend in Mendoza! Can you say wine-fueled bike tours set against the Andes? Sí, sí...
Ciao mis queridos. I will return with bocha fotos y gran historias.
Not gonna miss that.
On a non-whiny note, I´m having a girls´long weekend in Mendoza! Can you say wine-fueled bike tours set against the Andes? Sí, sí...
Ciao mis queridos. I will return with bocha fotos y gran historias.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
The semester is slipping away...
... and I´m still not back in school. I´ve got a take-home midterm to do now, and have been assigned more work by my tutor than I would have at UBA. That said, it´s really nice getting to learn one-on-one rather than missing more than half of what´s being taught in the massive, poorly acousticked warehouse classrooms. Even though my Spanish gets better every day, it´s really difficult to pay attention in classes here, and even more difficult to pick up on what the teacher is saying once I tune back in. Anyway, enough complaining.
Probably one of two things is going to happen regarding the toma. There might be a counter-toma, in which the students who oppose the toma invade the campus, or, they might cancel the semester. Personally, I hope they cancel the semester. Middlebury will make sure we get credits, learn good things, etc., but I just don´t see the possibility of continuing after missing over a quarter of a semester. Also, if it restarts, they will probably push the semester til the end of January and, um, we´re not going to stick around until then. One way or another, we´ll get credit. However, it´s frustrating that we can´t even travel in this time "off" because most of us have internships -- 12 hours a week, which is more than the total class time of the Middlebury kids enrolled at the private university here.
Enough ranting. I just wanted to post an update on the decidedly confusing aspect of my study abroad experience. Oh, Argentina....
Probably one of two things is going to happen regarding the toma. There might be a counter-toma, in which the students who oppose the toma invade the campus, or, they might cancel the semester. Personally, I hope they cancel the semester. Middlebury will make sure we get credits, learn good things, etc., but I just don´t see the possibility of continuing after missing over a quarter of a semester. Also, if it restarts, they will probably push the semester til the end of January and, um, we´re not going to stick around until then. One way or another, we´ll get credit. However, it´s frustrating that we can´t even travel in this time "off" because most of us have internships -- 12 hours a week, which is more than the total class time of the Middlebury kids enrolled at the private university here.
Enough ranting. I just wanted to post an update on the decidedly confusing aspect of my study abroad experience. Oh, Argentina....
Monday, September 27, 2010
I have just experienced the most claustrophobic subway ride in my life.
As of now, I take the línea E subte train to my internship from Avenida la Plata to Bolívar. My end stop is basically at Plaza de Mayo, near the financial district of Buenos Aires. Also known as where everyone and their grandmother goes to work, especially at 8.45 AM on a Monday.
Anyway, the train was completely full when I squeezed on. Out of habit, I pulled my tote bag in front of my body and jammed my thumb into the tiny hole left open next to the zipper... just in case. I wedged myself into a corner so as to reduce human contact, but at the next stop I had to move and found myself basically inhaling the fibers off of some business man´s light pink button-down. Accessorized, I might add, with a tasteful if not slightly Valentinean red striped tie. He was pretty good-spirited about letting my rub my nose all over his pocket, especially because there was a girl with a backpack flung over her chest doing the same thing on his right.
Us three, plus whomever was leaning firmly against my back, swayed tightly with every bump -- and compared to even New York standards, there are a lot. With every stop toward Bolívar, we became more tightly packed. I was so smooshed in that my breathing was constricted. I almost began to panic as I inhaled the hot recycled air of Mr. Valentine´s office wear. Then I peeked around, the chick next to me´s tinsely sleeve tickling my Monday morning frizzy hair, and noticed that a lot of people had their eyes closed. I don´t know if this is because they were all as sleepy as I was, or because they were blocking out the reality of the claustrophobic nightmare of a commute. I tried it, hands pushed one against my chest, the other in my bag, and actually started to feel better. I couldn´t ignore the stank of way too many people being up on each other so early in the morning, but I became less aware and could zone out. At least, until the angry Peruvian mother with two small children smacked me in the face with her baby.
Now I´m safely at my office, a little rumpled but drinking mate with my coworkers.
Uuuuuffffa.
Anyway, the train was completely full when I squeezed on. Out of habit, I pulled my tote bag in front of my body and jammed my thumb into the tiny hole left open next to the zipper... just in case. I wedged myself into a corner so as to reduce human contact, but at the next stop I had to move and found myself basically inhaling the fibers off of some business man´s light pink button-down. Accessorized, I might add, with a tasteful if not slightly Valentinean red striped tie. He was pretty good-spirited about letting my rub my nose all over his pocket, especially because there was a girl with a backpack flung over her chest doing the same thing on his right.
Us three, plus whomever was leaning firmly against my back, swayed tightly with every bump -- and compared to even New York standards, there are a lot. With every stop toward Bolívar, we became more tightly packed. I was so smooshed in that my breathing was constricted. I almost began to panic as I inhaled the hot recycled air of Mr. Valentine´s office wear. Then I peeked around, the chick next to me´s tinsely sleeve tickling my Monday morning frizzy hair, and noticed that a lot of people had their eyes closed. I don´t know if this is because they were all as sleepy as I was, or because they were blocking out the reality of the claustrophobic nightmare of a commute. I tried it, hands pushed one against my chest, the other in my bag, and actually started to feel better. I couldn´t ignore the stank of way too many people being up on each other so early in the morning, but I became less aware and could zone out. At least, until the angry Peruvian mother with two small children smacked me in the face with her baby.
Now I´m safely at my office, a little rumpled but drinking mate with my coworkers.
Uuuuuffffa.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
One last post for the day. Best for last.
I went to the local gym with my friend Morgan, who is a member... I am not. I scooted in all sneaky-like without anyone noticing. We were there to take a "ritmix" aerobi-dance class. While waiting, we power-walked on the treadmills... running doesn´t seem to have a huge following here. At least not in gyms. Anyway, the class we were waiting for is the real kicker. Basically, we spent an hour dancing our asses off with women aged 20-200 in a little dance studio, following a fabulous man with a headband as we gyrated and flailed to everything from Rent to a Madonna 'Evita' techno remix to awesome salsa music. In short, it was wonderful. We decided that this class was a no-shame zone. Not for the self-conscious perfectionist. So with that mentality and a generally good-spirited bunch of classmates, we rocked out and I feel great. I think a lot of gyms offer this type of class, so I´ve got to make a point of going more. Not only did I get super sweaty, I think I made a few friends! Or maybe they were just laughing at me...
La toma
It´s worth mentioning that I haven´t had class in three weeks. That is related to the picture I posted a couple weeks ago of the chairs piled up in the stairwell at the UBA-Fílo campus. The campus is currently "tomada" or under siege as part of a protest on behalf of the students who disagree with the spending of the education budget. Of course, I can´t put in my two cents as a foreign exchange student, but I do know that the campus could seriously use an injection of some sort of funds. Not doing so well right now. The toma has been a pain in the ass because, while not having class is nice, we never know when it´s going to lift -- so we can´t even travel! I was supposed to have my first midterm today, but that´s been indefinitely postponed. It´s been a very interesting cultural experience, even though I know Middlebury is having a fit, what with their hands tied and 20 students who need a semester´s worth of credit. I´ll certainly keep you (all six people who read my blog) posted on whatever happens with my besieged school.
On another note, I´ve just started an internship with a non-profit organization called Responde. They work with rural Argentine pueblos to build and maintain a better quality of life, and are now moving forward to promote self-sustainability in a more environmental manner within these pueblos. Many of them can reap the benefits of responsible tourism due to their locations, while others are situated for production of certain items and have become able to trade effectively with other pueblos so as to boost their micro-economies. My 'expertise', ahem, is in trying to figure out realistic ways that these pueblos can err on the eco-friendly side and not just burn out pretty much the only thing they´ve got for sure -- their land. My first couple of days were spent researching and compiling a report on how to better design slaughterhouses in rural areas such as these pueblos. Let´s just say I now know the importance of really cleaning those guts off the floor before you hack apart a carcass.
Next!
On another note, I´ve just started an internship with a non-profit organization called Responde. They work with rural Argentine pueblos to build and maintain a better quality of life, and are now moving forward to promote self-sustainability in a more environmental manner within these pueblos. Many of them can reap the benefits of responsible tourism due to their locations, while others are situated for production of certain items and have become able to trade effectively with other pueblos so as to boost their micro-economies. My 'expertise', ahem, is in trying to figure out realistic ways that these pueblos can err on the eco-friendly side and not just burn out pretty much the only thing they´ve got for sure -- their land. My first couple of days were spent researching and compiling a report on how to better design slaughterhouses in rural areas such as these pueblos. Let´s just say I now know the importance of really cleaning those guts off the floor before you hack apart a carcass.
Next!
Córdoba
Hey, my ches!
I júst figured óut how to do açcents añd all that fun stuff... so that will make my posts a little more authentic, if not more ínteresting.
So. Now that I've shown off my new skills, I'll try to begin compensating for being so M.I.A. lately. Brace yourself. Last weekend, my program took all 20 students -- enormous, right? -- to Córdoba, a fairly large city to the west of Buenos Aires. We left on an absurdly early flight Friday morning and returned Sunday night. A surprising amount of activities were accomplished in that time period! We visited some seriously beautiful lakes, some really unspectacular 'lakes' (which turned out to be the dried-out river beds that hung out just around the corner from the lake we took a bus to go see, but never did...), climbed a pretty lovely mountain, lunched at the top, fell down many times on the way back, etc. The mountain, Cumbrecita, is in a region outside Córdoba that has a strong German influence and basically looked liked a casual little alpine town... minus the fact that the terrain was nearly identical to that of California. I won't lie, it made me a little homesick. Truly nice and refreshing, though, to hang out where the air is fresh and the only sound was my friends laughing, the wind, and birds. Sounds cheesy, but it was exactly what I needed. That, and the exercise of climbing the damn mountain.
We also got to spend a considerable amount of time in Córdoba, which was a clean, safe (feeling) city that is 10% students... I loved running around the beautiful poop-free streets clutching my obnoxious camera, surrounded by young people who all seemed happy and more interested in enjoying the stunning weather than eyeballing the foreign kids. Anyway, I think it's obvious that I needed a break from Buenos Aires, and I got it, not a moment too soon. All in all, a lovely weekend. I genuinely like all the other kids on my program, so traveling with them to a place like Córdoba was a real treat.
On to the next post. I won´t even say goodbye....
Monday, September 13, 2010
Cultural miscommunications
The other night, Lucia took me to a "hippie" party -- the sort of hippie I've grown accustomed to seeing around Buenos Aires and also in my classes at UBA (which is still "tomada", by the way... No classes, but still have a midterm next week?). Anyhow, as we were approaching the party, I asked Lucia where the party was at, as in what type of locale. She said, "un club". Of course, I assumed that she meant a nightclub/lounge-type situation. To me, to Americans, a club is sort of synonymous with that type of going out. When we arrived, we walked into what looked sort of like a high school gymnasium with streamers and a stage set up for the band that was playing cumbia.
At first, I literally thought we were in a nightclub with ironic, deliberate high-school set-up. Ha. Haha. I asked Lucia what exactly kind of club we were in, where the bar was, etc. She laughed and laughed when she realized how deeply confused I was and explained that a "club" in Buenos Aires is a gymnasium.
Not a life-changing story, of course, but I still wanted to point out how funny words can be, especially in disparate social contexts.
Un beso enorme. Gonna go cook some lunch with neighboring friends. It is rainy and cold and I've been on a James Taylor kick all morning. Must get out the house!!
Ciao
At first, I literally thought we were in a nightclub with ironic, deliberate high-school set-up. Ha. Haha. I asked Lucia what exactly kind of club we were in, where the bar was, etc. She laughed and laughed when she realized how deeply confused I was and explained that a "club" in Buenos Aires is a gymnasium.
Not a life-changing story, of course, but I still wanted to point out how funny words can be, especially in disparate social contexts.
Un beso enorme. Gonna go cook some lunch with neighboring friends. It is rainy and cold and I've been on a James Taylor kick all morning. Must get out the house!!
Ciao
Saturday, September 11, 2010
San Lorenzo soccer game
Che, boludos!
I've just returned from my first local soccer game. It's a division 1 team based in the neighborhood I live in, the San Lorenzo equipo. Well, it was certainly different than the Argentina - Spain game I went to the other day, where we sat up close and gave a few mild WOOOOOOOO cheers (yeah, we were those Americans). Luckily, today I went with my Argentinean room mate Lucia and her male friend from San Lorenzo's swim team -- very helpful. At this match, we were in the section where you stand and try to weasel your way to a good spot to see the field.
I went without even my cell phone, but it was killing me the whole time that I couldn't take pictures. Next time, I'll find a way to smuggle in my smaller camera because I just have to. That is all. It was pretty breathtaking. Everyone was going wild!! In the middle standing sections, the soccer hooligans stand on the railings of the stadium stairs, clutching the long banners that stripe the entire audience from top to bottom. The songs that everyone knows -- except me, of course -- are long and actually have a tune. They're pretty offensive, and specific to the area from which the team originates. Little kids were on their parents' shoulders, clutching the poor man/lady's hair and hooting along with the rest of them. Markedly more spirited than the national game, even though no one scored a single friggin' goal.
After the game, the true quilombo started... and I thought the game had been a wild experience. As a rule, the visiting team's fans leave before the home team's, for safety reasons. At the national game, that seemed like just a formality. At this game, I understood why. As the other fans were leaving, the San Lorenzo fans were screaming profanities and upping the insult ante on their songs to the point where I was damn happy there was an enormous field to separate us.
When we were waiting at the top of the cancha for a long, long time, watching the rival fans lose their shit on the other side of the field, my nose really started to burn. Then, I heard gun shots from the other side of the stadium and ambulances started driving across the field. Of course, I asked Lucia what in god's name was going on, my nose and eyes streaming. Oh, it's tear gas. The police are trying to control the fans from the other team because they're causing problems in the parking lot. The tear gas obviously didn't stay put and was wafting all over us. Most people seemed very relaxed about it and simply pulled San Lorenzo flags or jerseys over their faces. The gunfire continued, and was apparently "just" rubber bullets being fired by the police at the rowdy fans. I saw policemen in riot gear taking them down and potentially using a water cannon as well. Ah, futbol.
We got out unscathed, apart from the molestation of the tear gas. The parking lot was absolute mayhem, and getting to the car felt like running around during a legitimate riot. But here I am at home, exhausted yet safe. I'll go back next week to take pictures.
Ciao, siesta time.
PD. Look at the bottom left corner of the pic and you´ll see my little ¨blonde¨head! It got way more crowded... this is when we were playing it safe.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
It has been too long.
Apologies for the obvious post title, and further apologies for the brevity of my post. I'll tackle the missing weeks in a sparse, note-like format:
A lot has happened since I last wrote here! I have "endured" two strikes at UBA, one of which has started today. The first strike, or huelga, was on the behalf of the displeased professors who get paid peanuts, if at all. Today's strike is against the state of the classrooms -- I can get behind that! So all of the desks were ejected out into the street and the few students that showed up for my 9AM class chatted with the professor for a bit in a nearby cafe. I will try to get a picture I took of the UBA stairwell off of my phone and onto this page.
Next. Yesterday (hah), we went to our first soccer match! Argentina vs. Spain. We kicked some serious culo, it was a lot of fun. We had awesome seats and really got into the spirit, somewhat to the dismay of the Argentineans who sort of can't stand us... but, anyway. It was a good experience, and on Saturday I'm going to a local game. Apparently it's a bit dangerous, so that could be exciting. No photos, though.
Also. I had a special visitor, Ian, come to stay with me last week. Very nice! It was my first time "hosting" someone, and as easygoing and low-maintenance as my guest was, I still really enjoyed showing him around. We did some touristy things, but I am not above that yet. I probably never will be!
I know I'm leaving out heaps of interesting things that have happened to me/been occurring in general. I suppose that my lack of ability to recall these special things at this exact moment means I should post more.
Promise I will. Pinky swear!
besos, mis queridos!
PS A trip to Machu Picchu is in the works! Four-day hike on the Inca Trail sometime in November. Muy emocionada.
A lot has happened since I last wrote here! I have "endured" two strikes at UBA, one of which has started today. The first strike, or huelga, was on the behalf of the displeased professors who get paid peanuts, if at all. Today's strike is against the state of the classrooms -- I can get behind that! So all of the desks were ejected out into the street and the few students that showed up for my 9AM class chatted with the professor for a bit in a nearby cafe. I will try to get a picture I took of the UBA stairwell off of my phone and onto this page.
Next. Yesterday (hah), we went to our first soccer match! Argentina vs. Spain. We kicked some serious culo, it was a lot of fun. We had awesome seats and really got into the spirit, somewhat to the dismay of the Argentineans who sort of can't stand us... but, anyway. It was a good experience, and on Saturday I'm going to a local game. Apparently it's a bit dangerous, so that could be exciting. No photos, though.
Also. I had a special visitor, Ian, come to stay with me last week. Very nice! It was my first time "hosting" someone, and as easygoing and low-maintenance as my guest was, I still really enjoyed showing him around. We did some touristy things, but I am not above that yet. I probably never will be!
I know I'm leaving out heaps of interesting things that have happened to me/been occurring in general. I suppose that my lack of ability to recall these special things at this exact moment means I should post more.
Promise I will. Pinky swear!
besos, mis queridos!
PS A trip to Machu Picchu is in the works! Four-day hike on the Inca Trail sometime in November. Muy emocionada.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Being the token foreign chick.
First of all, since it's been a while, there will be lots of random odds and ends thrown into this post with little to no attempt at cohesion or organization. Aside from getting my BlackBerry ripped out of my hand by a bike thief while waiting for the 53 colectivo, life has generally been good. I feel a bit more connected to my courses and have a better sense of how I'm going to survive as an UBA student.
This is not chronological with the other things I'll be writing in this post, but hey, you were warned! Yesterday, between my two 4-hour classes, I went with Ileana to purchase some house goods, including two monstrous pillows and eight wooden hangers. We didn't have time to drop the stuff at Ileana's apartment before class, so we took everything to class with us. Of course, the hallway situation was quilombesco and packed with smoking students. (Ileana had a pillow, too, for the record.) We are trying to smile and laugh good-naturedly at ourselves while maneuvering with the huge pillows and crinkling bags, file into the classroom -- which turns out to be too small! So, having wedged one pillow underneath my chair and the other between me and my seatmate, I have to get up and move to the classroom next door along with my 120-plus classmates. I know that it might seem trivial and perhaps I am not doing the situation justice, but with my "blonde" hair, (yes, I am blonde here), vacant, nervous eyes, and outlandish classtime baggage, I felt more foreign than ever. Like the Swedish exchange student who sort of just nods a lot and is generally friendly... or at least it seems that way. Anyway, getting those suckers home on the public bus was magnificent.
Next story-let. On Monday, I went to this awesome fiesta called La bomba del tiempo. It's basically a percussion-fueled rave, with some of the most awesome drumming I have ever heard. Lots of sweat, dancing like a monkey, and general buena onda. Again, even though I don't look so different from some of the girls here and make an honest effort to speak castellano even with my American friends, people, especially guys, spot that I am foreign from miles away. This gets annoying, but I still had an awesome time at La bomba. Will be going back every week.
One more thing I'd like to point out before I get ready for class -- there is a wooden subway here. And the bus doors don't close sometimes... neither do the subway doors. I just find these to be hilarious examples of really, really old things in Argentina that are commonplace. Sometimes they function, sometimes they don't. I have seen people arc their bodies away from the gaping doors on the subway (mostly the wooden one, complete with golden holding-bars and tatty curtains) and old ladies leap from a slow-moving bus at their "stop".
Oh, Argentina. You confuse me every day.
One last thing. Last night, along with amazing creativity and teamwork, my friends Morgan and Alex -- the Boedoans -- and I made the best dinner ever. We hit up the local specialty shops and made orange barbecue chicken, spinach salad with avocado, butternut squash, caramelized apples, cheese, balsamic... and mashed potatoes. Topped off with hot chocolate volcano cake and "American cream" ice cream prepared by Alex's room mate, Leo.
All in a day's work!
Now, to class. Wish me luck...
besitos
This is not chronological with the other things I'll be writing in this post, but hey, you were warned! Yesterday, between my two 4-hour classes, I went with Ileana to purchase some house goods, including two monstrous pillows and eight wooden hangers. We didn't have time to drop the stuff at Ileana's apartment before class, so we took everything to class with us. Of course, the hallway situation was quilombesco and packed with smoking students. (Ileana had a pillow, too, for the record.) We are trying to smile and laugh good-naturedly at ourselves while maneuvering with the huge pillows and crinkling bags, file into the classroom -- which turns out to be too small! So, having wedged one pillow underneath my chair and the other between me and my seatmate, I have to get up and move to the classroom next door along with my 120-plus classmates. I know that it might seem trivial and perhaps I am not doing the situation justice, but with my "blonde" hair, (yes, I am blonde here), vacant, nervous eyes, and outlandish classtime baggage, I felt more foreign than ever. Like the Swedish exchange student who sort of just nods a lot and is generally friendly... or at least it seems that way. Anyway, getting those suckers home on the public bus was magnificent.
Next story-let. On Monday, I went to this awesome fiesta called La bomba del tiempo. It's basically a percussion-fueled rave, with some of the most awesome drumming I have ever heard. Lots of sweat, dancing like a monkey, and general buena onda. Again, even though I don't look so different from some of the girls here and make an honest effort to speak castellano even with my American friends, people, especially guys, spot that I am foreign from miles away. This gets annoying, but I still had an awesome time at La bomba. Will be going back every week.
One more thing I'd like to point out before I get ready for class -- there is a wooden subway here. And the bus doors don't close sometimes... neither do the subway doors. I just find these to be hilarious examples of really, really old things in Argentina that are commonplace. Sometimes they function, sometimes they don't. I have seen people arc their bodies away from the gaping doors on the subway (mostly the wooden one, complete with golden holding-bars and tatty curtains) and old ladies leap from a slow-moving bus at their "stop".
Oh, Argentina. You confuse me every day.
One last thing. Last night, along with amazing creativity and teamwork, my friends Morgan and Alex -- the Boedoans -- and I made the best dinner ever. We hit up the local specialty shops and made orange barbecue chicken, spinach salad with avocado, butternut squash, caramelized apples, cheese, balsamic... and mashed potatoes. Topped off with hot chocolate volcano cake and "American cream" ice cream prepared by Alex's room mate, Leo.
All in a day's work!
Now, to class. Wish me luck...
besitos
Friday, August 13, 2010
New life word -- "quilombo".
I have come to believe the ardent accounts of those who came to this country before me.... nothing works. Or, at least to the extent that it could, were anything actually looked after. I'm not saying this with bitterness or anything more than mild annoyance + amusement. I have experienced two power outages, several broken escalators, jammed bus and subway doors, faulty cab brakes, and countless futile, half-hearted attempts to revive (the few and far between) computer systems. And recharging my cell phone's pay credit? Usually only works if I wish really, really hard. Oh, and two of my professors just didn't come to the first day of classes. Simply couldn't make it.
That said, I'm getting used to it. They have a word here that I'm falling in love with. Quilombo. It means -- pardon my language -- a clusterfuck. A mild disaster. Chaos that ranges from actual danger to a laughable annoyance. I completely understand why it's a homegrown Argentinean word, though... because it pretty much sums up the organization, or lack thereof, that the city of Buenos Aires employs on an awesomely pervasive scale.
First week of school was fairly successful. I'll have to sit closer to the teacher and just make myself pay attention. It's not as if I can effectively doodle and snag a word here and there to jot down in my notes. Having lectures in the mile-a-minute, nuanced castellano that is spoken here is certainly a challenge. So, the troops must be rallied for that.
In other news, tomorrow I am moving to Boedo. It's a pretty cool area, very close to school, and also close to some of the people from the program I've become buddies with. It will be nice to live within walking/public transport distance of the UBA-Filo campus, and to feel a little less isolated over here in shady ol' San Telmo. Shady, shady. It's a rainy and chilly day here, but I've got plenty to distract myself with.
Until the next time.
Un monton de besos, queridos.
PS Pictures soon! After 7 hours bumbling around at customs yesterday, I've got a snazzy camera... Yes I know, it must be guarded with my life... ch-ciao.
That said, I'm getting used to it. They have a word here that I'm falling in love with. Quilombo. It means -- pardon my language -- a clusterfuck. A mild disaster. Chaos that ranges from actual danger to a laughable annoyance. I completely understand why it's a homegrown Argentinean word, though... because it pretty much sums up the organization, or lack thereof, that the city of Buenos Aires employs on an awesomely pervasive scale.
First week of school was fairly successful. I'll have to sit closer to the teacher and just make myself pay attention. It's not as if I can effectively doodle and snag a word here and there to jot down in my notes. Having lectures in the mile-a-minute, nuanced castellano that is spoken here is certainly a challenge. So, the troops must be rallied for that.
In other news, tomorrow I am moving to Boedo. It's a pretty cool area, very close to school, and also close to some of the people from the program I've become buddies with. It will be nice to live within walking/public transport distance of the UBA-Filo campus, and to feel a little less isolated over here in shady ol' San Telmo. Shady, shady. It's a rainy and chilly day here, but I've got plenty to distract myself with.
Until the next time.
Un monton de besos, queridos.
PS Pictures soon! After 7 hours bumbling around at customs yesterday, I've got a snazzy camera... Yes I know, it must be guarded with my life... ch-ciao.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Taking care of things. But not really.
So today I have had my first wave of homesickness, most likely brought upon by the person doing their daily hammering project on the wall behind my bed -- and my failure to do my laundry (for the seventh consecutive day). Thank goodness I am an overpacker, because even in the most dire laundry emergencies I have backup, i.e. that extra pair of leggings with the ripped calf that I never wear.
Either I just don't know what a lavanderia looks like, or they really are all closed on the weekends. I'm going to give myself the benefit of the doubt and assume the latter. The entire situation, however petty, has left me feeling out of sorts and a little bit filthy. I remedied that partially by going and walking around Parque Lezama, browsing the weekend flea market, and purchasing four pairs of new socks for ten pesos. Success, I can ignore my problems for another two days!! Turning my pillowcases inside out... wondering if my favorite green t-shirt is really that dirty... who says college hasn't taught me anything practical?? And, of course, I take comfort in the fact that I can always shop, no matter the country.
Now, I'm going to watch a good old American TV show, eat my crackers and cheese, and think fondly of those I miss at home without letting it get me down. Perfecto.
Besos y abrazos, mis queridos.
Either I just don't know what a lavanderia looks like, or they really are all closed on the weekends. I'm going to give myself the benefit of the doubt and assume the latter. The entire situation, however petty, has left me feeling out of sorts and a little bit filthy. I remedied that partially by going and walking around Parque Lezama, browsing the weekend flea market, and purchasing four pairs of new socks for ten pesos. Success, I can ignore my problems for another two days!! Turning my pillowcases inside out... wondering if my favorite green t-shirt is really that dirty... who says college hasn't taught me anything practical?? And, of course, I take comfort in the fact that I can always shop, no matter the country.
Now, I'm going to watch a good old American TV show, eat my crackers and cheese, and think fondly of those I miss at home without letting it get me down. Perfecto.
Besos y abrazos, mis queridos.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Just a thought
Today I spent some time with a friend (Leandro) of my dear friend (Vanessa), walking around the Recoleta area. Of course, I was all a-swivel and agog because it really is a gorgeous neighborhood -- lots of little parks, spectacular architecture, and a design mall that you would love, Kare. But as Leandro pointed out to me and I suppose it may seem obvious to others, I hadn't yet come to see Buenos Aires as a whole, yet. My views of the city thus far were just tidbits pasted somewhat desperately together. Now, having seen the "best" area and some of the "worst", I know just how big this city really is. Yes, that's not quite the right word for, but I'll keep working on it.
Ciao!
Ciao!
Sunday, August 1, 2010
I want to be a tanguera.
Last night, I kicked off a marathon evening with some pals from the program and our tango teacher, Marcelo, at a tangueria, where we watched a milonga. There was a big dance floor lined with tables and couples just freestyle tango'ed for hours and hours... it was incredibly beautiful. Our other tango teacher, Barbara, danced with her partner Mario and I couldn't believe how elegant and talented they both were. A fantastic tango orchestra played, and I must say that there's nothing like good live music, especially when it involves 11 bandoleones and some kick-ass violin.
Speaking of live music, I'm off to assist a couple friends in handing out flyers for their music event tonight! It's a lovely, windy day and despite having come home when then sun was rising, I feel pretty good (and have narrowly avoided a buzzkillness... that's a buzzkilling - illness... hah).
Ciao, boludos!
Speaking of live music, I'm off to assist a couple friends in handing out flyers for their music event tonight! It's a lovely, windy day and despite having come home when then sun was rising, I feel pretty good (and have narrowly avoided a buzzkillness... that's a buzzkilling - illness... hah).
Ciao, boludos!
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Hello, again
Well. I can't believe I've been here a week! On one hand, it seems like it's been much longer. On the other, well... you get it.
Orientation week #1 was good, except for having to wake up semi-early every day. I am never okay with that. But I've definitely gotten a better sense of what my semester is going to look like, having been to the UBA-Filo campus. It is one of the craziest "campuses" I've ever seen... A ton of political and social activism everywhere, murals coating every wall and a mind-boggling idea of organization. There was a bomb threat on the day we visited! Ah, well.
I spent the other day walking around the city with my friends Alex and Ileana, which was great. We walked so damn much, it reminded me of New York. A lot of things here remind me of New York, and then my associations just get blown away when, for example, I see families with their young babies eating mountains of steak at 2.30 AM in a cafe. Anyhow. When we were strolling around, we witnessed our first street tango performance. Extremely impressive... we all caught the tango bug. More on that later. We also went down to Puerto Madero and looked at the nasty river, though it was still pretty beautiful with all the ships and docks, etc. We went to La Plaza de Mayo, as well, and it was one of the most powerful experiences I've had in a while. The mothers and grandmothers of the people who were abducted by the government in the 1970's gather to walk around the Plaza, holding huge photos of those who were taken from them. Seeing a troupe of people with "lost" signs for their family members... we could tell that it was partially just a ritual, partially an expression of genuine hope that they might see their loved ones again.
An interesting side note: that entire day, I was wearing a dress with knee socks under my tall boots... truly, not that fascinating and certainly not an outfit I haven't worn before. Not scandalous (I promise!) But for some reason, EVERYONE was staring at my knees. At first, when Alex and Ileana noticed the gawkers as well, we all just figured that it was los creeperos who drool over anything with two eyes and two legs. As more and more people passed us, it became completely comical how everyone would look at my face, then -- bam -- eyes glued to my knees. Trust, they are nothing special. It was ridiculous and I believe one man even crashed his scooter because he was ogling my rodillas. Oh, Argentina. Enough on that, I just thought it was pretty hilarious and an unwarranted source of attention.
Finally went to a tango class with my program, and it was magical. I am completely entranced by the grace and discipline of tango. It's swift and sexy, but also very controlled. I must become a tanguera. The teacher took a liking to me because he could tell I was a dancer and recommended that I pursue it while I'm here... don't have to ask me twice!
There are a few more things I planned to post on since it's been a while, but this one is getting very long and I want to go make some tea. Must prepare for the long night ahead: tango show at midnight and some bar hopping in Palermo.
Ciao!
Orientation week #1 was good, except for having to wake up semi-early every day. I am never okay with that. But I've definitely gotten a better sense of what my semester is going to look like, having been to the UBA-Filo campus. It is one of the craziest "campuses" I've ever seen... A ton of political and social activism everywhere, murals coating every wall and a mind-boggling idea of organization. There was a bomb threat on the day we visited! Ah, well.
I spent the other day walking around the city with my friends Alex and Ileana, which was great. We walked so damn much, it reminded me of New York. A lot of things here remind me of New York, and then my associations just get blown away when, for example, I see families with their young babies eating mountains of steak at 2.30 AM in a cafe. Anyhow. When we were strolling around, we witnessed our first street tango performance. Extremely impressive... we all caught the tango bug. More on that later. We also went down to Puerto Madero and looked at the nasty river, though it was still pretty beautiful with all the ships and docks, etc. We went to La Plaza de Mayo, as well, and it was one of the most powerful experiences I've had in a while. The mothers and grandmothers of the people who were abducted by the government in the 1970's gather to walk around the Plaza, holding huge photos of those who were taken from them. Seeing a troupe of people with "lost" signs for their family members... we could tell that it was partially just a ritual, partially an expression of genuine hope that they might see their loved ones again.
An interesting side note: that entire day, I was wearing a dress with knee socks under my tall boots... truly, not that fascinating and certainly not an outfit I haven't worn before. Not scandalous (I promise!) But for some reason, EVERYONE was staring at my knees. At first, when Alex and Ileana noticed the gawkers as well, we all just figured that it was los creeperos who drool over anything with two eyes and two legs. As more and more people passed us, it became completely comical how everyone would look at my face, then -- bam -- eyes glued to my knees. Trust, they are nothing special. It was ridiculous and I believe one man even crashed his scooter because he was ogling my rodillas. Oh, Argentina. Enough on that, I just thought it was pretty hilarious and an unwarranted source of attention.
Finally went to a tango class with my program, and it was magical. I am completely entranced by the grace and discipline of tango. It's swift and sexy, but also very controlled. I must become a tanguera. The teacher took a liking to me because he could tell I was a dancer and recommended that I pursue it while I'm here... don't have to ask me twice!
There are a few more things I planned to post on since it's been a while, but this one is getting very long and I want to go make some tea. Must prepare for the long night ahead: tango show at midnight and some bar hopping in Palermo.
Ciao!
Monday, July 26, 2010
Che, gordos
This is a nutty place. I've been kept occupied since I've been here with various social activities, and have met some great people thanks to my house mates. Yesterday I went to a fun barbecue at a hostel. We all stood around waiting for delicious things to come off the grill, then just picked it off with our fingers, burning our mouths terribly by being so overeager.
We celebrated for second night in a row, and I actually never ended up going to sleep last night... problem, as today was the first day of the program's orientation. But, despite having skipped a night's sleep, I enjoyed orientation and was pleasantly surprised at how well everyone speaks Spanish. Even better, everyone seems pretty committed to speaking only Spanish with each other when the teachers aren't around or anything. It was a very long day, and I'm turning in super early so that tomorrow doesn't seem like such a journey. We're going to be picking classes and all that, so I must have my wits about me. Can't take any of the insane Castellano on an empty mind, now can I?
Ciao gordos (we learned a lot of slang today... such a fan)
We celebrated for second night in a row, and I actually never ended up going to sleep last night... problem, as today was the first day of the program's orientation. But, despite having skipped a night's sleep, I enjoyed orientation and was pleasantly surprised at how well everyone speaks Spanish. Even better, everyone seems pretty committed to speaking only Spanish with each other when the teachers aren't around or anything. It was a very long day, and I'm turning in super early so that tomorrow doesn't seem like such a journey. We're going to be picking classes and all that, so I must have my wits about me. Can't take any of the insane Castellano on an empty mind, now can I?
Ciao gordos (we learned a lot of slang today... such a fan)
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Here I am! In Buenos Aires!
Hola, mis amores.
Well. A long journey, it was. Three airports, two flights, and one (very effective, somewhat wacky) Ambien later, I write from my bedroom in the San Telmo neighborhood of Buenos Aires. The townhouse where I am living is very cute and despite the fact that I haven't quite gotten the heating situation down in my room, I think I'm going to like it here.
I've met a few of my housemates, one of whom -- Simone -- I was convinced was a chica. Not the case. He is a very sweet Italian guy who dropped me off at a pizzeria around the corner post-nap/unpacking so I could cure my general jetlag malaise. I ate enough random sandwiches on the plane but of course was ravenous again and as the new kid in town, was a bit timid about venturing out to find nourishment.
At the pizzeria, which was just the cutest place ever (look out, at this rate, I'm going to find every corner CUTE), I snagged a piece of amaaaaazing pizza and a cafe con leche. Insta-happy. I felt sooo much better after a few Z's and some grease. After that, I wandered around a little to find an electronics store and potentially a pharmacy. Go me, I found several of both! But, of course you were right, Dad. They were closed. However, I got some good language practice in there and while I am clearly a foreigner once I open my mouth, I can tell that I've already picked up a few things.
I'm off to make sense of the shower situation. I can't tell if I'll leave the house again tonight. Except to find more food, claro! Helloooo, junior fifteen!
besos
Well. A long journey, it was. Three airports, two flights, and one (very effective, somewhat wacky) Ambien later, I write from my bedroom in the San Telmo neighborhood of Buenos Aires. The townhouse where I am living is very cute and despite the fact that I haven't quite gotten the heating situation down in my room, I think I'm going to like it here.
I've met a few of my housemates, one of whom -- Simone -- I was convinced was a chica. Not the case. He is a very sweet Italian guy who dropped me off at a pizzeria around the corner post-nap/unpacking so I could cure my general jetlag malaise. I ate enough random sandwiches on the plane but of course was ravenous again and as the new kid in town, was a bit timid about venturing out to find nourishment.
At the pizzeria, which was just the cutest place ever (look out, at this rate, I'm going to find every corner CUTE), I snagged a piece of amaaaaazing pizza and a cafe con leche. Insta-happy. I felt sooo much better after a few Z's and some grease. After that, I wandered around a little to find an electronics store and potentially a pharmacy. Go me, I found several of both! But, of course you were right, Dad. They were closed. However, I got some good language practice in there and while I am clearly a foreigner once I open my mouth, I can tell that I've already picked up a few things.
I'm off to make sense of the shower situation. I can't tell if I'll leave the house again tonight. Except to find more food, claro! Helloooo, junior fifteen!
besos
Friday, July 23, 2010
First post... from my bedroom in Los Angeles.
This is my first post on a blog, ever.
And since this blog is intended to narrate my next year abroad in Argentina, it might seem a bit premature to start it up with a post written while Stateside. However, I think I'll enjoy reading this next July 22nd, and seeing how much has changed.
I'm sitting on my lovely, enormous bed at my house in Los Angeles, eyeballing the big mama suitcase I have yet to actually zip... as well as the overweight child of that big mama, also waiting to be tackled. I've tried -- really, really tried! -- not to over pack. But, as is the general flavor of my expectations for this journey, who the hell knows what I'll be needing.
I've had a wonderful but short summer break and seen most of the people who make me smile. Just like I felt when I was leaving New York, I'm sad and not quite ready to let go of something good, but simultaneously more than ready to take on something new.
Scared? Shitless. Brave? A bit of that, too. I already miss the people I love, and am already fascinated by the people I'm going to meet. I know I'm about to be confused and lonely, but I'm also going to be crazy busy and excited. So, with that little fun bag of emotions added to my already conspicuous pile of luggage, I'm going to do my darndest leave everything else behind tomorrow morning.
See you in Argentina, my loves!
And since this blog is intended to narrate my next year abroad in Argentina, it might seem a bit premature to start it up with a post written while Stateside. However, I think I'll enjoy reading this next July 22nd, and seeing how much has changed.
I'm sitting on my lovely, enormous bed at my house in Los Angeles, eyeballing the big mama suitcase I have yet to actually zip... as well as the overweight child of that big mama, also waiting to be tackled. I've tried -- really, really tried! -- not to over pack. But, as is the general flavor of my expectations for this journey, who the hell knows what I'll be needing.
I've had a wonderful but short summer break and seen most of the people who make me smile. Just like I felt when I was leaving New York, I'm sad and not quite ready to let go of something good, but simultaneously more than ready to take on something new.
Scared? Shitless. Brave? A bit of that, too. I already miss the people I love, and am already fascinated by the people I'm going to meet. I know I'm about to be confused and lonely, but I'm also going to be crazy busy and excited. So, with that little fun bag of emotions added to my already conspicuous pile of luggage, I'm going to do my darndest leave everything else behind tomorrow morning.
See you in Argentina, my loves!
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