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.

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!

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....

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

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.

So... I'm guessing class is cancelada?

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.