Thursday, June 5, 2008
Some monumental pics...
I've kind of become obsessed with my camera lately... Imagine that, an Ellison taking lots of pictures... Heck, I get it from the Robins' side too! Anyway, these are a few of my favs... (i have taken around 1000 since I got here... 200 are in Picassa... so this is a very slim selection.)
A break from me speaking...
Julie Gerdes is an excellent, excellent writer, no matter what she says.
This is actually from her current "about me" section on Facebook, but I'm putting it here cuz it definitely captures life in the Tina...
I sleep with 5 blankets because my house doesn't have heat, and the windows don't shut all the way, and it's winter in May. I spend most of class time wondering what the key word that my professor keeps repeating means, later to find out it was as basic as "source." I go to horseback-riding lessons weekly, and generally end up in tears because my horse has reared up or stepped on my toe, and I can't make it stop, but I keep coming back every week. I spend free time doing absolutely nothing at all to better myself-- generally this means napping. I decide to cross the street right as a car or bus or taxi comes flying at me, because here it is mandatory to ignore street signs for survival. I stay up until 7am trying to dance or singing American music entirely too loudly and getting inappropriately grabbed by strangers as I'm just trying to walk outside. I generally laugh entirely too loudly to blend in. I wear hoodies to my rich-kid prep school. Sometimes, I turn my light out at 10pm to trick my host family so that I don't have to eat dinner at 11 or later. I wash my clothes with a hose. I sit in a corner of my bed very still in order to receive wireless, which cuts off promptly at 8pm regardless. I nod and agree to statements that I later realize I am completely opposed to. I listen to tango versions of the Beatles. I can make my cat jump at least 3 feet in the air and into my arms. My host mother calls my Yoolie or "la You," and my father says "Hello Dolly" or "My God/Girl" every time I walk into the house. I fall in love with Argentina one minute, and despise it the next.
This is actually from her current "about me" section on Facebook, but I'm putting it here cuz it definitely captures life in the Tina...
I sleep with 5 blankets because my house doesn't have heat, and the windows don't shut all the way, and it's winter in May. I spend most of class time wondering what the key word that my professor keeps repeating means, later to find out it was as basic as "source." I go to horseback-riding lessons weekly, and generally end up in tears because my horse has reared up or stepped on my toe, and I can't make it stop, but I keep coming back every week. I spend free time doing absolutely nothing at all to better myself-- generally this means napping. I decide to cross the street right as a car or bus or taxi comes flying at me, because here it is mandatory to ignore street signs for survival. I stay up until 7am trying to dance or singing American music entirely too loudly and getting inappropriately grabbed by strangers as I'm just trying to walk outside. I generally laugh entirely too loudly to blend in. I wear hoodies to my rich-kid prep school. Sometimes, I turn my light out at 10pm to trick my host family so that I don't have to eat dinner at 11 or later. I wash my clothes with a hose. I sit in a corner of my bed very still in order to receive wireless, which cuts off promptly at 8pm regardless. I nod and agree to statements that I later realize I am completely opposed to. I listen to tango versions of the Beatles. I can make my cat jump at least 3 feet in the air and into my arms. My host mother calls my Yoolie or "la You," and my father says "Hello Dolly" or "My God/Girl" every time I walk into the house. I fall in love with Argentina one minute, and despise it the next.
Friday, May 23, 2008
For kicks...
One day, while the power went out while I was working on something (for absolutely no reason... Hey, it's the Tina!), I decided to make good use of my time... I emailed Billy a list, and here's what I came up with.
I'm contemplating reasons why I love the United States of America:
1. You don't have the electricity cut out for no reason
2. Cars aren't ALL fuming with smog
3. Eggs/ham/tomatoes aren't put on top of every item of food (they are rarely lacking in protein)
4. CHICKEN WINGS
5. Domino's pizza, Papa John's pizza, Pizza Hut. (aka variety)
6. The president can't screw us over as easily and blatantly. In return, we don't kick the president out every few years for kicks.
7. Easy access to internet in your house
8. Real mattresses and boxsprings
9. Air conditioning. Even better: central A/C
10. Heating. Even better: central heating
11. Cell phones with plans instead of cards
12. Mexican food is Mexican, not Argentine
13. People understand you when you say "Wal Mart"
14. Caesar salads are delicious in America
15. People obey traffic laws 80% of the time, as opposed to 20%
16. People put their children in seat belts
17. School administrators give a crap about organization
18. America speaks English
19. Americans speak English to Spanish speaking foreigners (trust me, it gets annoying when you're trying to speak Spanish and they try and speak English back to you. It's kind a hit to your self esteem. So I am never speaking Spanish to a foreigner in the States unless they tell me they would prefer I speak Spanish.)
20. Americans know how to construct toilet seats that don't spit at you when you sit down.
21. Americans have change and don't yell at you over 50 cents or even 10 cents
22. Every third American isn't pregnant
23. Mullets are sported only by a minority
24. Dogs are trained
25. Dogs are bred on purpose instead of by wandering down the street
I am sure I could think of more.
And I did:
JUICY STEAKS WITH A LITTLE PINK IN THE MIDDLE!!!!!!!! mmmmmm
salad dressing
stop signs
Screens on windows instead of bars. Damn mosquitos eat me UNDER MY COVERS at night!
Real doorknobs
I'm contemplating reasons why I love the United States of America:
1. You don't have the electricity cut out for no reason
2. Cars aren't ALL fuming with smog
3. Eggs/ham/tomatoes aren't put on top of every item of food (they are rarely lacking in protein)
4. CHICKEN WINGS
5. Domino's pizza, Papa John's pizza, Pizza Hut. (aka variety)
6. The president can't screw us over as easily and blatantly. In return, we don't kick the president out every few years for kicks.
7. Easy access to internet in your house
8. Real mattresses and boxsprings
9. Air conditioning. Even better: central A/C
10. Heating. Even better: central heating
11. Cell phones with plans instead of cards
12. Mexican food is Mexican, not Argentine
13. People understand you when you say "Wal Mart"
14. Caesar salads are delicious in America
15. People obey traffic laws 80% of the time, as opposed to 20%
16. People put their children in seat belts
17. School administrators give a crap about organization
18. America speaks English
19. Americans speak English to Spanish speaking foreigners (trust me, it gets annoying when you're trying to speak Spanish and they try and speak English back to you. It's kind a hit to your self esteem. So I am never speaking Spanish to a foreigner in the States unless they tell me they would prefer I speak Spanish.)
20. Americans know how to construct toilet seats that don't spit at you when you sit down.
21. Americans have change and don't yell at you over 50 cents or even 10 cents
22. Every third American isn't pregnant
23. Mullets are sported only by a minority
24. Dogs are trained
25. Dogs are bred on purpose instead of by wandering down the street
I am sure I could think of more.
And I did:
JUICY STEAKS WITH A LITTLE PINK IN THE MIDDLE!!!!!!!! mmmmmm
salad dressing
stop signs
Screens on windows instead of bars. Damn mosquitos eat me UNDER MY COVERS at night!
Real doorknobs
I'VE BEEN HERE FORRRRRR EEVVVVV ERRRRRR
I find it really annoying when the taxistas (the men who drive the... ding ding ding!: TAXIS!), or really anyone, like your host mom's friends... ask you how long you've been here. And you say, "4 months." They inevitably always reply, "¡muy poquito tiempo!" and you inevitably reply to that, "¡¡¡¡NI ES POQUITO!!!! Es una eterniDAD" Four months in another country with a culture soo different from your own is far from a small amount of time. The amount of effort it takes to process what is going on, that is not a small amount of effort. 4 months can suck the life out of you.
It’s a funny thing, going abroad. I think the funniest thing is how much it requires going inside your self. I know when I saw on LaurieBeth’s Facebook profile, that infamous quote “To know another culture is fundamentally a journey inside yourself,” ("Conocer otra cultura es fundamentalmente un viaje interior.") I thought I bet it’s true… But I didn’t understand how. I couldn’t understand how until I had gone through the experience, obviously.
I have learned that I am so imperfect. That I am an amazing candidate for Grace. I am in desperate need of Grace.
I am often:
impatient
blunt
loud
hypocritical
selfish
lazy
impulsive
self-absorbed
monomaniacal
argumentative
head strong
stubborn
gluttonous (surprising but true)
first (Kanakukers get that)
I have never noticed these qualities as much as I have here in the Tina.
I mean, I think I have some good qualities too.
I am also:
resourceful
creative
energetic
enthusiastic
nurturing
a linguist
willing
a dreamer
mothering (this can be a negative sometimes when it turns into smothering. whoops.)
funny (depends on the day – but sometimes I am really funny.)
smart (I am. I don’t think I’m stupid. However, I have realized how much I DON’T know while I’ve been down here.)
It turns out I am not a natural Rider. That was a disappointment maybe. Or maybe it’s because the teachers here like to get the horse riled up and then send you off sprinting on him right after he throws his head back so that the spit coming out of his mouth flies onto your face right before he takes off running and you grab onto his mane so you don’t fall into the dirt that makes your allergies flare up every time after class because you’ve been breathing it in the whole time. That was an overwhelming sentence. It was supposed to be. Equitación is overwhelming. I hated trotting for a long time. Having to post was definitely something new compared to the Western riding I’ve done. Turns out they’re quite different, Western and English. But the other day I realized that all of a sudden, when they ask me to trot, it doesn’t take as much work. Do you know that I’ve trotted on a horse with no feet in the stirrups? It’s true. I would have NEVER thought that I could do that. So I guess equi really has stretched me. I’ve been asked to do a lot of things that I have not been comfortable with initially, but I think that was definitely a good thing. (I still would like a teacher who explained what was going to happen before it happened and also didn’t make everyone come over and look at the girl who just fell down on the ground off of her horse and say what she did wrong. She probably needs a little time to recover.)
I also got a tattoo while I was down here. (Surprise, Dad!) I have felt the need to stop being afraid of living, of taking chances. I have always been the kid who only rollerbladed on surfaces with a good amount of friction; while Frances and Jack squealed over a neighbor’s new smooth concrete driveway, I watched from the friction-filled grass, afraid to bust my butt. So I decided to dive in and get a tattoo. I think it was part of a desire to feel like I was embracing my chance to be 20 years old and do things I could possibly regret in the future. The good kind of regret. The “oh well, guess I can’t do anything about it now” regret. Not like screw up my future kind of regret. So I’m glad I did that.
I learned that it is possible for me to be friends with a group of girls. I know, I know, I’m in a sorority, but there aren’t 5 of us stuck together all the time. It has been rough. Roughest for me, because I’m not used to doing it. Lately, I hadn’t spent as much time with the 4, but the past couple of days we’ve hung out, and it has been so refreshing. I am not really good at it. All my friends have always been spread around, not in a group setting. So I have had to take a deep breath and step back a few times, but I think I have grown a lot in that area. So thank you so much, Alex, Abby, Caro, and Chris. I know I’ve been the stubborn one that’s retreated to Billy a lot, but I wouldn’t trade the experience that I’ve had with you girls for the world. I am sorry I didn’t make it to Iguazu, I know it was amazing, but ya’ll have done so much for me that you don’t even know! Haha ya’ll sure have got a good dose of my stubbornness and argumentativeness…
I have learned also, that I love America. I used to defend the argument that “America” is not a country, but a region. But you know, it’s also a country. If you can have a city and a state named the same thing, then you can have a country and a hemisphere named the same thing. No one here calls their self “American” so they can get over the fact that it’s what we call ourselves. It’s in songs, it’s in our NAME. So we can be Americans. I love the fact that I can breath clean air when I walk down the road and not have to cover my mouth constantly so I can breath. I love that there are so many things that happen here that could NEVER happen in America, because of the stability of our government. We have so much stability that we don’t realize it. I know our economy may be playing “recession” right now, but we’ve got it so good. There aren’t road blocks all the time in protest, no one is in threat of not having food because the farmers won’t let the food get to the cities. We’re safe of that threat. I mean we’re not perfect. I know we’re not. We’ve got problems. Everyone has problems. A lot of people don’t like our country these days. That’s okay. Because I’ve never loved America more. I never really was very patriotic – I’ve always been convinced that we’ve been so self-absorbed and selfish and set on our own materialistic agenda that we had it all wrong… But the thing is, every country is prideful. There are issues in every country that the people choose to ignore because of their pride. There are so many people here who think that what they do is the best in the world, and a lot of times I want to giggle because we do it in America too… Like criollos. They’re like biscuits, but harder. I swear if these people could taste a hot Southern biscuit they’d change their minds. I was introduced to a criollo with the idea that what I was about to eat was unavailable in any other part of the world… ha! So it’s interesting, you see? The Argentines are proud of things in their world just like we’re proud of things in our world. Sometimes we just only see through the eyes of our own world. I’m sure we could improve our PR in the States, but I am convinced right now that we’ve got a lot of things right. Like Domino’s pizza. And chicken wings. And police that actually care to give you a ticket for doing something illegal. That’s a nice thing to have.
I think this trip has been invaluable, really. I am sure that when I get back to the States I will realize all of the things that I really did enjoy about Argentina, but at the moment I’ve got my one track mind working… the “get me back to the US” track… It’s been a long, exhausting road. There has been a lot of drama, a lot of frustration, a lot of annoyance with the fact that there is a total lack of organization (hmph), and a lot of time on our hands that we haven’t known what to do with. But I’m glad I came. I’m glad I didn’t go to Europe to tour around and be immersed in typical Western society. This really is a society of its own. Heck, their grammar is different in Argentina than other places in Spain and even other Latin American countries! But I’m glad that I was forced to look at myself and my country the way I have. I hope every time I eat Dominos or chicken wings I remember what it was like to be in Argentina and have the same pasta sauce 5 times a week.
It’s a funny thing, going abroad. I think the funniest thing is how much it requires going inside your self. I know when I saw on LaurieBeth’s Facebook profile, that infamous quote “To know another culture is fundamentally a journey inside yourself,” ("Conocer otra cultura es fundamentalmente un viaje interior.") I thought I bet it’s true… But I didn’t understand how. I couldn’t understand how until I had gone through the experience, obviously.
I have learned that I am so imperfect. That I am an amazing candidate for Grace. I am in desperate need of Grace.
I am often:
impatient
blunt
loud
hypocritical
selfish
lazy
impulsive
self-absorbed
monomaniacal
argumentative
head strong
stubborn
gluttonous (surprising but true)
first (Kanakukers get that)
I have never noticed these qualities as much as I have here in the Tina.
I mean, I think I have some good qualities too.
I am also:
resourceful
creative
energetic
enthusiastic
nurturing
a linguist
willing
a dreamer
mothering (this can be a negative sometimes when it turns into smothering. whoops.)
funny (depends on the day – but sometimes I am really funny.)
smart (I am. I don’t think I’m stupid. However, I have realized how much I DON’T know while I’ve been down here.)
It turns out I am not a natural Rider. That was a disappointment maybe. Or maybe it’s because the teachers here like to get the horse riled up and then send you off sprinting on him right after he throws his head back so that the spit coming out of his mouth flies onto your face right before he takes off running and you grab onto his mane so you don’t fall into the dirt that makes your allergies flare up every time after class because you’ve been breathing it in the whole time. That was an overwhelming sentence. It was supposed to be. Equitación is overwhelming. I hated trotting for a long time. Having to post was definitely something new compared to the Western riding I’ve done. Turns out they’re quite different, Western and English. But the other day I realized that all of a sudden, when they ask me to trot, it doesn’t take as much work. Do you know that I’ve trotted on a horse with no feet in the stirrups? It’s true. I would have NEVER thought that I could do that. So I guess equi really has stretched me. I’ve been asked to do a lot of things that I have not been comfortable with initially, but I think that was definitely a good thing. (I still would like a teacher who explained what was going to happen before it happened and also didn’t make everyone come over and look at the girl who just fell down on the ground off of her horse and say what she did wrong. She probably needs a little time to recover.)
I also got a tattoo while I was down here. (Surprise, Dad!) I have felt the need to stop being afraid of living, of taking chances. I have always been the kid who only rollerbladed on surfaces with a good amount of friction; while Frances and Jack squealed over a neighbor’s new smooth concrete driveway, I watched from the friction-filled grass, afraid to bust my butt. So I decided to dive in and get a tattoo. I think it was part of a desire to feel like I was embracing my chance to be 20 years old and do things I could possibly regret in the future. The good kind of regret. The “oh well, guess I can’t do anything about it now” regret. Not like screw up my future kind of regret. So I’m glad I did that.
I learned that it is possible for me to be friends with a group of girls. I know, I know, I’m in a sorority, but there aren’t 5 of us stuck together all the time. It has been rough. Roughest for me, because I’m not used to doing it. Lately, I hadn’t spent as much time with the 4, but the past couple of days we’ve hung out, and it has been so refreshing. I am not really good at it. All my friends have always been spread around, not in a group setting. So I have had to take a deep breath and step back a few times, but I think I have grown a lot in that area. So thank you so much, Alex, Abby, Caro, and Chris. I know I’ve been the stubborn one that’s retreated to Billy a lot, but I wouldn’t trade the experience that I’ve had with you girls for the world. I am sorry I didn’t make it to Iguazu, I know it was amazing, but ya’ll have done so much for me that you don’t even know! Haha ya’ll sure have got a good dose of my stubbornness and argumentativeness…
I have learned also, that I love America. I used to defend the argument that “America” is not a country, but a region. But you know, it’s also a country. If you can have a city and a state named the same thing, then you can have a country and a hemisphere named the same thing. No one here calls their self “American” so they can get over the fact that it’s what we call ourselves. It’s in songs, it’s in our NAME. So we can be Americans. I love the fact that I can breath clean air when I walk down the road and not have to cover my mouth constantly so I can breath. I love that there are so many things that happen here that could NEVER happen in America, because of the stability of our government. We have so much stability that we don’t realize it. I know our economy may be playing “recession” right now, but we’ve got it so good. There aren’t road blocks all the time in protest, no one is in threat of not having food because the farmers won’t let the food get to the cities. We’re safe of that threat. I mean we’re not perfect. I know we’re not. We’ve got problems. Everyone has problems. A lot of people don’t like our country these days. That’s okay. Because I’ve never loved America more. I never really was very patriotic – I’ve always been convinced that we’ve been so self-absorbed and selfish and set on our own materialistic agenda that we had it all wrong… But the thing is, every country is prideful. There are issues in every country that the people choose to ignore because of their pride. There are so many people here who think that what they do is the best in the world, and a lot of times I want to giggle because we do it in America too… Like criollos. They’re like biscuits, but harder. I swear if these people could taste a hot Southern biscuit they’d change their minds. I was introduced to a criollo with the idea that what I was about to eat was unavailable in any other part of the world… ha! So it’s interesting, you see? The Argentines are proud of things in their world just like we’re proud of things in our world. Sometimes we just only see through the eyes of our own world. I’m sure we could improve our PR in the States, but I am convinced right now that we’ve got a lot of things right. Like Domino’s pizza. And chicken wings. And police that actually care to give you a ticket for doing something illegal. That’s a nice thing to have.
I think this trip has been invaluable, really. I am sure that when I get back to the States I will realize all of the things that I really did enjoy about Argentina, but at the moment I’ve got my one track mind working… the “get me back to the US” track… It’s been a long, exhausting road. There has been a lot of drama, a lot of frustration, a lot of annoyance with the fact that there is a total lack of organization (hmph), and a lot of time on our hands that we haven’t known what to do with. But I’m glad I came. I’m glad I didn’t go to Europe to tour around and be immersed in typical Western society. This really is a society of its own. Heck, their grammar is different in Argentina than other places in Spain and even other Latin American countries! But I’m glad that I was forced to look at myself and my country the way I have. I hope every time I eat Dominos or chicken wings I remember what it was like to be in Argentina and have the same pasta sauce 5 times a week.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
My Favorites in Argentina
So I only have 36 days left here in Córdoba, Argentina, and I decided to make a list of my favorite things and places here for future Clemson Cordoba peeps.
1. American food: Johnny B. Good - handsdown the best attempt at American food here. I'm obsessed with the chicken quesadillas (it's the only place that understands that there is a difference between a quesadilla and a taco)... And their drinks are pretty fun too! It can seem a bit pricey for Córdoba, but translated to dollars it's pretty inexpensive...
2. French fries: Luna India - they're almost like steak fries, they're PERFECT for when you're craving home!
3. WiFi hotspots: Johnny B. Good (there are two locations, Rafael Nuñez 4791 and one in the Centro) has WiFi, and if you're looking for somewhere early on a Sunday, they're probably going to be the first business open. Luna India is also a great place to go, there's only one table with a plug, the big table to the right when you walk in (Recta Martenoli). Sepia Fotocafe, also on the Recta, is a cute little café that also specializes in photography, printing, etc... So for those of you who end up taking photography, it is a good resource when you have to print for projects.
4. Chinese food: Dragon Restaurant on the corner of Nepper and Ricardo Rojas... It's pretty quiet in there, never seen more than 4 or 5 tables occupied, but their food is legit and they have sweet and sour chicken (agridulce) which makes my life much happier.
5. About the buses...: You never want to take N11 accidentally. You will end up in the middle of nowhere that also happens to remind you of the projects and is apparently a pretty dangerous area of town. We had to stand there on a corner for a few minutes while the bus driver took a break, and we're pretty sure we were not going to survive. So don't take N11.
6. A good place to hang and get a drink: I think all of the UBP international kids learn this quickly: Contender's... Around Rafael Nuñez 3900 - 4000... Especially after a tough parcial
7. About McDonalds: It's seriously amazing. I'm not kidding. McDonalds here is way better than in the States (hate to admit it) Cuarto de libra con queso... Mmmmmm and! Fountain Coke with ICE!
8. Alfajores: de Maizena are the best. The ones at the UBP are the best of these, in fact. Some fall apart when you try to eat them...
9. Boliches: I am not the Boliche expert. I don't really like them. But I will tell you that Zar was filled with high school boys who tried to grab every part they could get to on our bodies. So avoid that.
10. SUSHICLUB: My FAVORITE restaurant in Córdoba! There's also a location in BA... The sushi is soooooooo good - and it's fun because they always bring you a little drink they've concocted and a small appetizer in a shot glass... My absolute favorite are the Buenos Aires rolls, and the Honey are pretty awesome too... And the dessert is sweeeeet - I love the Blends, three little desserts made from different kinds of tea... black tea creme brulée, a green tea, and a biscuit soaked in earl grey... out of this world.
11. Mexican food: this is difficult in Cordoba. All of the quesadillas I've tasted still taste like Argentina (you'll know what I mean, has a lot to do with three ingredients: ham, oregano, and carrots...) but Guacamole on Rafael Nuñez (5800 or so...) has awesome guacamole (go figure), queso, and salsa if you are craving chips. They also have pretty cheap drinks, which happen to be pretty strong so watch out. They can be almost unenjoyable.
And specifically, as far as teachers at the UBP:
Cande is nice, has a few sarcastic quips that will catch you off guard... She's very understanding and a cool lady. (advanced level in the intensive month, argentine literature...)
Jose is one of the smartest professors I've ever had... He seems to know everything about everything... Including more about the United States and our own citizens know... He's very jolly and also very understanding. (history of latin american thought, argentine history...)
Lili- Lili is the bomb.com. She's hilarious, loves to joke, loves to draw, and is just supercool altogether. (intermediate during the intensive month, DELE prep, basic spanish...)
Roberto - the man loves to sing and talk and dance. he can be a little hard to swallow, un poquito "pesado" if you will... Knows his culture... (special clases during the intensive month, culture...)
Clara- she loves to disect the language, which can be a little bit overwhelming and confusing... but she has a good sense of humor, especially if you make an effort to get along with her. (advanced spanish)
Margarita- what a woman. she eludes cool. she is always dressed so in style, she's young and hip and... VERY demanding. she expects great things out of her students, which can be a little frustrating at times, but she is very eager to teach and gets very excited when she sees participation and students eager to learn... she will help you if you go to her. (cultura a traves de las manifestaciones artisticas)
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Ni hao!
So we had a kind of ironic cultural experience last night – I walk by Dragon Restaurant (Chinese) every single day on the way to school, and I have developed a serious craving for Chinese food, in particular sweet and sour chicken. I think I started dreaming about it. Now the thing is, as far as our ethnic food experiences have gone, Argentines completely fail at Mexican food. They do not understand the difference between a taco and a quesadilla; one time I had carrot strips in my taco-quesadilla, and another time a slice of sandwich ham in between the cheese and the chicken. So you see what I’m saying? I was a little scared to go to this Chinese restaurant for fear that it wasn’t going to be authentic and that would leave me depressed and really want to return to the States. So on the way to school yesterday I saw a Chinese woman outside and I decided it was time to try our luck, because it looked like our chances were good that we would have real Chinese people (zhongwo ren) cooking Chinese food (zhongwo fan).
It was beautiful, I’ll tell you. Billy and I were a little nervous, but the good news is that we were the third or fourth table so it wasn’t completely empty.
So the first waitress we see is definitely an Argentine wearing a kimono. She tells us we can sit down, and we go to the back, kind of, and pass by a desk where an authentic Chinese man is sitting. So we get our menus, and couldn’t remember what the heck we eat and there were very few descriptions, just chow mein or something else in every variety. Then, it occurs to dear Billy that “agridulce” is sweet and sour sauce, and we were sold. So the real Chinese man comes to take our order, and when I said two sweet and sour chickens he asked me if I knew what it was – that was a little scary so I just said yes and prayed that it really wasn’t something different here. No worries my friends, it was a little vinegary but it was pretty darn close to what we eat in the States. And then it occurred to me that when I saw the Chinese man, he reminded me of America. And Chinese food reminds me of America. So I came to the conclusion that strangely enough to me I think that China exists in America to me. For some reason seeing Chinese things in Argentina make me think of home. Weird. Really weird. Anyway, so I concoct a beautiful Chinese sentence “Shei shei nin, Wo ai chi nin de zhongwo fan” – Thank you, I love eating your Chinese food. (I’m loads of fun if you take me to a Chinese restaurant, wide eyed trying to find any one of the 10 characters I recognize and I try to make me elementary sentences. So you have to be patient to eat Chinese with me). So Billy decides I’m not allowed to leave without saying this phrase to the sweet little Chinese man. Seriously, you saw him and you just wanted to hug this man. By the way, an important detail, I was trying to make sure that he really spoke Chinese and wasn’t like 8th generation Chinese-Argentine, but he definitely pulled out an abacus, so that was a dead giveaway. Neither Billy nor I had ever seen an abicus in use, we thought those were just in museums! He tallied up everyone’s bills with an abacus. This made me love him even more. Anyway, I tried to get out shei shei nin but he didn’t hear me and walked away, but I had a second chance because he was at the front when I was leaving, so Billy pushes me over and I say “shei shei” and he thinks this is the extent of my Chinese so before I get out the rest he says it back and THEN I whipped out my fancy elementary Chinese sentence and he almost did a somersault, I swear. He had a grin ear-to-ear and said back to me what I assume was “I love to cook Chinese food for you” because only one or two words were different. So I for reals made legit friends with the Chinese man.
Moral of the story: if you’re craving Mexican food in Córdoba I recommend you just go for Chinese food instead.
It was beautiful, I’ll tell you. Billy and I were a little nervous, but the good news is that we were the third or fourth table so it wasn’t completely empty.
So the first waitress we see is definitely an Argentine wearing a kimono. She tells us we can sit down, and we go to the back, kind of, and pass by a desk where an authentic Chinese man is sitting. So we get our menus, and couldn’t remember what the heck we eat and there were very few descriptions, just chow mein or something else in every variety. Then, it occurs to dear Billy that “agridulce” is sweet and sour sauce, and we were sold. So the real Chinese man comes to take our order, and when I said two sweet and sour chickens he asked me if I knew what it was – that was a little scary so I just said yes and prayed that it really wasn’t something different here. No worries my friends, it was a little vinegary but it was pretty darn close to what we eat in the States. And then it occurred to me that when I saw the Chinese man, he reminded me of America. And Chinese food reminds me of America. So I came to the conclusion that strangely enough to me I think that China exists in America to me. For some reason seeing Chinese things in Argentina make me think of home. Weird. Really weird. Anyway, so I concoct a beautiful Chinese sentence “Shei shei nin, Wo ai chi nin de zhongwo fan” – Thank you, I love eating your Chinese food. (I’m loads of fun if you take me to a Chinese restaurant, wide eyed trying to find any one of the 10 characters I recognize and I try to make me elementary sentences. So you have to be patient to eat Chinese with me). So Billy decides I’m not allowed to leave without saying this phrase to the sweet little Chinese man. Seriously, you saw him and you just wanted to hug this man. By the way, an important detail, I was trying to make sure that he really spoke Chinese and wasn’t like 8th generation Chinese-Argentine, but he definitely pulled out an abacus, so that was a dead giveaway. Neither Billy nor I had ever seen an abicus in use, we thought those were just in museums! He tallied up everyone’s bills with an abacus. This made me love him even more. Anyway, I tried to get out shei shei nin but he didn’t hear me and walked away, but I had a second chance because he was at the front when I was leaving, so Billy pushes me over and I say “shei shei” and he thinks this is the extent of my Chinese so before I get out the rest he says it back and THEN I whipped out my fancy elementary Chinese sentence and he almost did a somersault, I swear. He had a grin ear-to-ear and said back to me what I assume was “I love to cook Chinese food for you” because only one or two words were different. So I for reals made legit friends with the Chinese man.
Moral of the story: if you’re craving Mexican food in Córdoba I recommend you just go for Chinese food instead.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Shouldn't I have this, shouldn't I have this, shouldn't I have all of this and..
(actually, the title is just a line from a Mary Chapin Carpenter song that talks about being demanding. I don't think it's my general attitude that I expect to have a lot of things handed to me. I just thought the song was appropriate.)
Apparently, included in our program fee were regular psychoanalyses by Argentines. After three weeks, during my first check-up interview with Dear Sir Resident Director for Clemson, I was told that I was demanding to a fault and that it set me up for failure. This is after knowing me for three weeks. And today, one of my favorite professors, also the program director, my advisor from Clemson, and a native Argentine, informed me that I was too controlling and that I have “so much light within but it can’t shine because I am too worried about being in control.” So I actually I have no idea where she got that from, but I decided to ponder on these psychoanalyses by the Argentines while I was in the shower today. And also all day before I got in the shower after my second Oral Proficiency Interview, meant to level out my progress of Spanish, but which also included the bonus psychoanalysis today.
So I think about my personality. I wouldn’t completely consider myself type A, I mean I am not always considered the most “put together” person – I am often caught sleeping in, I’m not afraid to skip class every once in a while (sorry Dad, but my GPA still looks pretty good, right?), I am consistently hounded for having a messy room, and I don’t have to take a shower everyday to appear in public. I also wear wrinkly clothes. When I think of the ideal type A, I think of that roommate I once had who was a frequent ironer, who woke up early to go eat breakfast before class, and who made her bed every single day. She was really impressive, seriously. But maybe I have this idea of type A all messed up and it has nothing to do with that. I definitely would be considered by Freud to be “anal expulsive” instead of “anal retentive,” so good job with the potty training Dad. Although I’m pretty sure my father would prefer that I have more characteristics of an anal retentive person in relation to my cleaning habits.
But anyhow, back to my analysis of the Argentines’ psychoanalyses of me. So am I really a control freak? I will tell you right now that I like schedules. I like people to be where they say they will be when they say they will be there. I mean give or take a few minutes, because I would be a hypocrite otherwise. I am not althogether unmerciful, seriously. And given some things in my background, I understand where some unfortunate events in my life were beyond my control and have made me probably more likely to want control over some other stuff. I think that’s pretty natural. But I think the demanding analysis actually hit closer to home. However, I don’t believe that I consider it a fault as much as Dear Sir does.
See, during my shower this evening, I thought about where I would have acquired this tendency to be “exigente,” or demanding. Dear Sir says that I demand not only a lot of myself but also of other people. So I think, “Do I demand a lot out of other people?” And the answer is a resounding yes. But I don’t think that I got this from negative influences, really. I think rather, that it came from many positive influences in my life that demanded a heck of a lot out of me. I think I have this natural tendency to demand excellence because I like quality, I would say I almost have a fetish for quality. I like quality people, quality time with people, quality materials, things of substance. But why is that a problem, eh?
My father is definitely a demanding dude. I have always had a strong push towards the high road from him. Not only is he demanding with me, he’s demanding with a lot of things, really. Maybe everything. (You didn’t know you got a psychoanalysis out of my trip to Argentina did you Dad?) But why would anyone at any point want to accept anything but the best effort out of anyone or anything? I mean obviously we are human, we screw up. We are not perfect. But shouldn’t we be striving for the best? Who wants to be lazy and accept whatever is in front of them?
I think another very strong influence for my pursuit of excellence and therefore my demanding personality is Kanakuk. This summer kamp (☺) demands excellence from its kampers, from its staff, from the people it hires out to do maintenance. I remember this summer seeing this motto at kamp and going, yeah! that’s right! “Excel still more.” Kanakuk has always been a place that demands a high level of effort and an awesome attitude from everyone. It’s not because they’re a selfish place that just wants to pad their reputation, it’s because they are Biblical. They are spurring us on to greatness, as iron sharpens iron… I’m pretty sure Jesus asks us to be pretty demanding in our choices and our lives. I mean heck, God demands that we be perfect and holy. Thank Him that Jesus died so that we can actually achieve that, but obviously we need to be working towards this excellence.
Dear Sir Director constantly ends his emails with “any doubt or issues at all, please feel free to contact me.” And he has told me before to come to him with any issue no matter what, to feel free to tell him. So at this first check-up I told him I really thought it was strange that they demand that we be on time, yet my friends have waited for an hour to do their interviews, only to have someone come out and tell them that it was cancelled and pushed back to another time. I was pretty upset with the lack of respect of our time, really. And I had been invited consistently to inform them of any issues, so I did. Then came the comment that I was demanding to a fault. So that’s cool. But then I think about how this is a university where students can pass a class with 75% attendance and an average of a 4, which is somewhere near a 40-50% average. Talk about demanding excellence, eh? Did I mention that you’re also allowed to retake one of your tests if you blow it? Yeah. You can.
So I wonder if I don’t make them uncomfortable maybe, me and my crazy demanding attitude. I mean maybe I am hard on other people, but I think it usually stems from these influences that I have had that say, “Do your best and expect the best from others.” People always disappoint. I disappoint people all the time. I screwed up big time this morning when I abandoned Alex with the travel agency deal. Sorry Alex. But I don’t think that’s going to stop me from expecting high quality any time soon. So sorry Dear Sir, I’m not letting you off the hook.
Apparently, included in our program fee were regular psychoanalyses by Argentines. After three weeks, during my first check-up interview with Dear Sir Resident Director for Clemson, I was told that I was demanding to a fault and that it set me up for failure. This is after knowing me for three weeks. And today, one of my favorite professors, also the program director, my advisor from Clemson, and a native Argentine, informed me that I was too controlling and that I have “so much light within but it can’t shine because I am too worried about being in control.” So I actually I have no idea where she got that from, but I decided to ponder on these psychoanalyses by the Argentines while I was in the shower today. And also all day before I got in the shower after my second Oral Proficiency Interview, meant to level out my progress of Spanish, but which also included the bonus psychoanalysis today.
So I think about my personality. I wouldn’t completely consider myself type A, I mean I am not always considered the most “put together” person – I am often caught sleeping in, I’m not afraid to skip class every once in a while (sorry Dad, but my GPA still looks pretty good, right?), I am consistently hounded for having a messy room, and I don’t have to take a shower everyday to appear in public. I also wear wrinkly clothes. When I think of the ideal type A, I think of that roommate I once had who was a frequent ironer, who woke up early to go eat breakfast before class, and who made her bed every single day. She was really impressive, seriously. But maybe I have this idea of type A all messed up and it has nothing to do with that. I definitely would be considered by Freud to be “anal expulsive” instead of “anal retentive,” so good job with the potty training Dad. Although I’m pretty sure my father would prefer that I have more characteristics of an anal retentive person in relation to my cleaning habits.
But anyhow, back to my analysis of the Argentines’ psychoanalyses of me. So am I really a control freak? I will tell you right now that I like schedules. I like people to be where they say they will be when they say they will be there. I mean give or take a few minutes, because I would be a hypocrite otherwise. I am not althogether unmerciful, seriously. And given some things in my background, I understand where some unfortunate events in my life were beyond my control and have made me probably more likely to want control over some other stuff. I think that’s pretty natural. But I think the demanding analysis actually hit closer to home. However, I don’t believe that I consider it a fault as much as Dear Sir does.
See, during my shower this evening, I thought about where I would have acquired this tendency to be “exigente,” or demanding. Dear Sir says that I demand not only a lot of myself but also of other people. So I think, “Do I demand a lot out of other people?” And the answer is a resounding yes. But I don’t think that I got this from negative influences, really. I think rather, that it came from many positive influences in my life that demanded a heck of a lot out of me. I think I have this natural tendency to demand excellence because I like quality, I would say I almost have a fetish for quality. I like quality people, quality time with people, quality materials, things of substance. But why is that a problem, eh?
My father is definitely a demanding dude. I have always had a strong push towards the high road from him. Not only is he demanding with me, he’s demanding with a lot of things, really. Maybe everything. (You didn’t know you got a psychoanalysis out of my trip to Argentina did you Dad?) But why would anyone at any point want to accept anything but the best effort out of anyone or anything? I mean obviously we are human, we screw up. We are not perfect. But shouldn’t we be striving for the best? Who wants to be lazy and accept whatever is in front of them?
I think another very strong influence for my pursuit of excellence and therefore my demanding personality is Kanakuk. This summer kamp (☺) demands excellence from its kampers, from its staff, from the people it hires out to do maintenance. I remember this summer seeing this motto at kamp and going, yeah! that’s right! “Excel still more.” Kanakuk has always been a place that demands a high level of effort and an awesome attitude from everyone. It’s not because they’re a selfish place that just wants to pad their reputation, it’s because they are Biblical. They are spurring us on to greatness, as iron sharpens iron… I’m pretty sure Jesus asks us to be pretty demanding in our choices and our lives. I mean heck, God demands that we be perfect and holy. Thank Him that Jesus died so that we can actually achieve that, but obviously we need to be working towards this excellence.
Dear Sir Director constantly ends his emails with “any doubt or issues at all, please feel free to contact me.” And he has told me before to come to him with any issue no matter what, to feel free to tell him. So at this first check-up I told him I really thought it was strange that they demand that we be on time, yet my friends have waited for an hour to do their interviews, only to have someone come out and tell them that it was cancelled and pushed back to another time. I was pretty upset with the lack of respect of our time, really. And I had been invited consistently to inform them of any issues, so I did. Then came the comment that I was demanding to a fault. So that’s cool. But then I think about how this is a university where students can pass a class with 75% attendance and an average of a 4, which is somewhere near a 40-50% average. Talk about demanding excellence, eh? Did I mention that you’re also allowed to retake one of your tests if you blow it? Yeah. You can.
So I wonder if I don’t make them uncomfortable maybe, me and my crazy demanding attitude. I mean maybe I am hard on other people, but I think it usually stems from these influences that I have had that say, “Do your best and expect the best from others.” People always disappoint. I disappoint people all the time. I screwed up big time this morning when I abandoned Alex with the travel agency deal. Sorry Alex. But I don’t think that’s going to stop me from expecting high quality any time soon. So sorry Dear Sir, I’m not letting you off the hook.
Friday, March 7, 2008
I'm beginning to see the light
We've rounded a corner in our stay here in Argentina. After the intensive month, all we really wanted to do was crash for the weekend. Not how our cards fell, exactly. The evening after our final exam and final oral presentation, the Clemson group got on the bus at 9pm. 10 hours later we arrived in Tafi del Valle, two provinces away in Tucuman. We began our weekend of a lot of trekking, longwinded speakers, and real bad food. We had a really good time, and we got to go to a bodega (vineyard / winery) and do a wine tasting which was real cool, but by the end of the trip we just wanted to get back to Córdoba and crash. Poor Abby wouldn't touch mayo with a 10 food pole and it happened to be that almost every single item of food we were presented with had mayo on it. There were also a lot of potatoes, which I happen to not really eat. Also on the menu was locro, which is a kind of stew with cow's stomach. Delish - not, I didn't get near it. On the way back, after we had been counting down the hours til we returned to Córdoba, about 5 hours away from home our bus broke down and we were stranded on the side of the road for two hours until the bus was fixed. We got home to Córdoba around 5 in the morning. And classes started the next day. But the thing is, when I started looking at all my pictures (and there are a lot) from the past month, I realized that maybe we are actually having fun here. So things started to change a little bit. There are some things about Argentina that are difficult, for instance:
1. Argentines are extremely longwinded. A lot of times you don't want to ask questions just because you know that there is no such thing as a simple answer, much less a "yes or no" answer. And the men talk more than the women.
2. Argentines are ridiculous about correct change. First of all, they normally round up or down and I have never once seen a 1 cent piece, and only once have i received a 5 cent piece. They hate bills above 10 pesos and it is really frustrating sometimes to deal.
And then there's the fact that our program sometimes is very poorly organized, and there are things that we have heard happened in past years that they don't seem to fix... But anyway, onto the good stuff!!!!
1. We have realized that the food in Córdoba is pretty delicious. We made up a song about desserts on our trip to the North (a really good use of our time on that bus). I've become obsessed with alfajores, a cookie that's a specialty around here. Everyone becomes obsessed with them I think when they come to Córdoba. We are also big fans of budín de pan and dulche de leche (which they smother on everything). My madre here always makes me really good pasta since I have started to like meat less and less.
2. We are started to really like the people around here. It didn't come to us immediately, but some of the people we've gotten to know we have really come to love. Some of the tutors are absolutely hilarious, and we love hanging out with them. My teacher, José, always gives us a recreo (recess) in the middle of our hour and thirty minute class (the length of the classes absolutely killls me and i am sooo grateful to him). My literature professor, Cande (Candelaria), is so obviously passionate about what she does and is a really good teacher. And then there's our art history teacher, Margarita. She's pretty soft spoken and the class is kinda tough but I swear the woman just eludes cool. And finally, the people in the cantina at school. They are sooo nice! When it was Christen's 21st, they gave her a free medialuna and a free bon o bon (my obsession) and sang her happy birthday. Oh yeah and then there are the people at the kiosko right by my house who love to practice their very few English words with us. The people here really have started to grow on us, and I think we've realized that maybe all that talk about Córdobans being so nice might have been true. Maybe we're going to make it 5 months after all, and even like it.
Precious little guys we met in Amaiche, in the Northwest of Argentina.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
I believe I burn the majority of my calories just by thinking
I have several friends that would attest to this. Quite possibly any and all of my friends would.
Tonight at Wal-Mart (yes, they even exist in Argentina) I had what I will probably look back at as one of the most important events in the beginning of my trip. It was a very nice snap back to reality, and back to myself.
When I finally got there (long convoluted cab ride due to the cab drivers rarely understanding when we say English names of places like Wal Mart) Caro and I went around perusing, and I ended up with bug repellent, a big bag of Doritos, and a huge box of Bon o Bons (the all chocolate kind, of course). Let's call it what it is: emotional eating. It's been a rough start, not an awful experience altogether, but definitely nothing like I wanted or expected. So emotional eating has set in, and Doritos and Bon o Bon's definitely fit the ticket.
Anyway, to continue my / our pity party, Caro (she hates that name. I love it.) and I decided to get McDonalds (are we noticing the food trend here?) and I was particularly excited to have a fountain Coke. I rarely ever eat McDonalds in the States, but for some reason I just decided to dive on in. So we get our food and sit down, and almost immediately a little boy came over and asked for monedas (coins), not that we could understand him what with all of the 80s music and his little baby voice, but it's pretty obvious what he was looking for. I've only recently started to come across these little kids but they've started coming out in droves. So we just shake our heads no and continue eating. (Don't worry, don't worry, I'm not heartless- just wait). So then a little girl with a shirt that is entirely too big for her, the v of her v-neck halfway down her chest, approaches us with the same idea. And we just say no again.
I kept watching these kids, seeing them go up to all of the people around us, sometimes asking the same people various times. I see the little girl (5 or 6) go up to what appears to be her sister, 8 or 9 years old, and someone had given them some candy. The little boy was riding around (not that the area was spacious by any means) on a cart, collecting newspapers that were lying around. I'm sure that he was collecting paper to sell back to the recycling companies, which is what fuels the "cartoneo" phenomenon here.
So when Caro and I are leaving, I left my french fries on the table for the kids and hoped that they could use the paper on the tray to sell. I also left a few cents on the table for them, knowing that they would come up and take our leftovers. What actually happened practically blew my mind.
Caro and I had discussed how sometimes it just seems that these kids are greedy, asking for money all the time and not seeming that thankful when you give it to them, but the more I think about it I just can't help but believe that if they're in the situation where they have the audacity to beg for money all the time, then they probably need it. Knowing the economic background of Argentina and the fact that 60% of children live in poverty, you have to assume that these kids really do need the money and this isn't just a fun pastime for them. (I really can't just get to the point can I?) Anyway, as we walk out, I saw the older sister walk over to our table, and as we were at the door Caro and I saw her face light up at the money, which in itself almost made me cry just seeing the joy in her face. So we went to get a taxi home, and the little girl ran out to me saying, "you left some change on the table!"
Basically, this shocked the hell out of us, because these people are so famous for stealing things that we would assume they would take the money and not think twice about it. I told the little girl that it was for her and she could keep it, and I saw her run over to her mother who was sitting outside to show off her earnings. At that point I think is when the scales were lifted off of my eyes. I remember why I was here for the first time in a very, very long time.
Study abroad is generally not a giving thing, it is a getting thing. It's about what this new culture is going to give you, about all the good times you're going to have going out and seeing beautiful sights. But that's not why I've had this passion for Latin America for so long, is it?
My heart has never been about spending time with middle-upper class people, about what they can give me. Instead, I always wanted to come to Argentina so I could give to them. And while this has been my heart's cry for so long, the impoverished people of Latin America, I somehow, lost my grip on that. It is almost embarrassing to me, really. What I've stood for, what I've been about for so long just went down the drain.
I mean obviously I wanted to go to the orphanage around here, because I knew it would help wake me up, but I don't think I realized how thick the scales were around my eyes and my heart until tonight. Thinking about this trip as a luxury, as a vacation that I can enjoy, has only messed me up. Every day I wake up and wait for Argentina to hand me something that day that makes me want to be here more. Every day I fall asleep disappointed. Having heard so much about Córdoba and having so many expectations really messed me up, because I landed with my palms open, just like those little kids.
But the times when I've been most joyful, most fulfilled, have only ever been when I'm not living for me. It's a crazy thing, right? You'd think that if you're living for yourself you'd be so happy, because it's all about you. But it's not. We were not created to feed ourselves. The happiest people I know are the people who have little and are constantly giving of themselves to others. I think of Bryan, the guy in charge of Escuela de Díos in Managua, Nicaragua. He gave up his life in the states to work in a dirty slum, and I cannot imagine the joy that God must poor in his heart every day.
The thing about studying abroad, is that you are constantly being asked, "Are you having a good time!? How is it!? What's it like!? Do you like the food/ your friends/ where you're staying / school, etc!?" It so naturally becomes all about you. It's almost impossible not to become incredibly concerned about yourself and your own happiness, because the focus has inevitably turned inward.
So while I have previously written on a similar subject, I think tonight it has become vivid how deep I was into my own world, the "me first" world (for all you Kanakukers out there). When Caro and I got into the cab tonight, I cannot describe the flood of joy I felt. It's like everything was put into place. Turns out I'm Third makes for a much higher quality of life. Because there's gotta be more to life than chasin down every temporary high (thank you, Stacie Orrico, also a Kanakuker).
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Walking to school this morning, sucking in a lungful of car exhaust, I was wondering why I’m here. I started comparing and contrasting my trip to Nicaragua (which was life changing in a matter of 10 days) and my time here so far (two weeks). When we left Nicaragua, I was distraught. I felt like I was leaving my heart in Managua, which is by no means any cleaner than Córdoba. In fact, Managua has a much higher level of crime, there are problems with gangs (someone had died and been tossed in a river a week or two before we arrived in Managua in 2005), we had to eat gallo pinto (aka rice and beans) with no seasoning for 60% of our meals there. We weren’t aware that we could only wear pants (out of respect for the culture) so we had only brought one or two pairs of pants to Nicaragua, which we had to wear for something like a week straight. We had to be careful about what water we drank, because we couldn’t drink the tap water like the Nicas could. It was definitely not a time without challenges (wearing pants in the 90 degree weather was crazy).
But really, I forgot that I was wearing the same dirty pants. I didn’t notice how hot I was. And after 10 days, I was ready to move there. I wanted to go to Nicaragua and have a banana plantation. I seriously considered this. And now here I am in Argentina, in a country with a much stronger economy, with safer streets (although to us they drive crazy and no one wears a seat belt, and child seats are nonexistent), but after two weeks I feel nowhere near the pull I felt with Nicaragua. So what was it about that country, something like the second poorest country in the western hemisphere, that drew me in more than Argentina, considered the most European country of Latin America?
I thought at first that maybe it’s because Nicaragua was more like vacation than my time in Argentina has been. After a week and a half of classes, I have a test that counts for 30% of my grade tomorrow. But as far as challenges go, there have been far fewer that I have experienced in Argentina than Nicaragua. So Argentina is easier, and cleaner, but I’m here dreaming of Nicaragua.
And then while I’m walking I realize the major difference. Here, I’ve been staying with a middle-upper class family, going out in the city, and hanging out with my friends from the US (haha and 1 from Canada). I haven’t had to invest with my heart and soul like I did in the dirt streets of Managua. I haven’t been able to chase wild horses or eat indigenous fruit with the orphans of Ometepe. What was so fulfilling about those ten challenging days in Nicaragua was actually the pouring out. So if I really want to dig deep into Argentina, I’m going to have to stop simply taking, and start giving away. If I want the joy and love here that I had while with the Nicas, I’m going to have to start finding some people who themselves need joy and love. So that’s the new mission (although today I learned that we may not be able to get more information about volunteering until mid-March).
“Den, y se les dará, se les echará en el regazo una medida llena, apretada, sacudida y desbordante. Porque con la medida que midan a otros, se les medirá a ustedes.” Lucas 6:38
“Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” Luke 6:38
But really, I forgot that I was wearing the same dirty pants. I didn’t notice how hot I was. And after 10 days, I was ready to move there. I wanted to go to Nicaragua and have a banana plantation. I seriously considered this. And now here I am in Argentina, in a country with a much stronger economy, with safer streets (although to us they drive crazy and no one wears a seat belt, and child seats are nonexistent), but after two weeks I feel nowhere near the pull I felt with Nicaragua. So what was it about that country, something like the second poorest country in the western hemisphere, that drew me in more than Argentina, considered the most European country of Latin America?
I thought at first that maybe it’s because Nicaragua was more like vacation than my time in Argentina has been. After a week and a half of classes, I have a test that counts for 30% of my grade tomorrow. But as far as challenges go, there have been far fewer that I have experienced in Argentina than Nicaragua. So Argentina is easier, and cleaner, but I’m here dreaming of Nicaragua.
And then while I’m walking I realize the major difference. Here, I’ve been staying with a middle-upper class family, going out in the city, and hanging out with my friends from the US (haha and 1 from Canada). I haven’t had to invest with my heart and soul like I did in the dirt streets of Managua. I haven’t been able to chase wild horses or eat indigenous fruit with the orphans of Ometepe. What was so fulfilling about those ten challenging days in Nicaragua was actually the pouring out. So if I really want to dig deep into Argentina, I’m going to have to stop simply taking, and start giving away. If I want the joy and love here that I had while with the Nicas, I’m going to have to start finding some people who themselves need joy and love. So that’s the new mission (although today I learned that we may not be able to get more information about volunteering until mid-March).
“Den, y se les dará, se les echará en el regazo una medida llena, apretada, sacudida y desbordante. Porque con la medida que midan a otros, se les medirá a ustedes.” Lucas 6:38
“Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” Luke 6:38
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
The first week
So I’ve reached the one-week mark in Argentina, but it feels like I’ve been here forever. Not necessarily in a bad or good way, but we’re always doing stuff so it feels like we already have so much “under our belts.”
So I knew it would probably be easy to make friends, since we’re all stranded in a foreign country together, you really don’t have much choice but to get to know each other quickly. However, I could not have imagined the group that I have! Everyone is pretty cool here in general (haha, like I’d admit it if they weren’t), and it is incredible the variety of personalities and characters. However, the group of friends I have found rock my world. Christen, Abby (aka Julia), Alex, and Carolyn (Caro- I’m putting your name last since you decide not to write back on my wall) are some of the coolest, funniest people I have ever met. And our chemistry is amazing. Each individual has such great quirks, like Carolyn’s sense of humor is out of this world. I have never laughed so much in my life, I’m serious. So I’m real glad they let the sheltered girl hang out with them.
My family is also amazing – technically it’s only Susana (mi madre argentina) and me, but the day after I arrived, Susana’s two Swiss nieces arrived with their husbands/boyfriends, and a baby. Additionally, Susana’s brother (El Vacho, the girls’ father) came from Chile with his friend, Rodolfo. So I’ve been learning a lot about Chilean culture as well as Argentine. Chilena, my “tia” (Susana’s sister – I suppose I should mention she is one of 8 siblings, so there are a lot of aunts, uncles, cousins, etc…) lives right down from us, so she and her two sons are always over here as well.
Susana has three grown children, Veronica, German (pronounced Herman) and el Chapu. Veronica comes over often and I am definitely a huge fan. And actually, German was a HUGE help the other day when I had to go get a phone. I haven’t really spent much time with el Chapu, but his wife Ivi and son (Jaoquin, he’s a little baby!) were here the other day and they were a blast. Luckily (I really am blessed, I’m pretty much the only one with this situation) I found wifi right outside of my house, so I can stay pretty connected, but obviously I can’t plug in my computer and the connection isn’t that great.
School is pretty good, we’ve only had two days of classes now. I really like my teacher for the intensive month (or so I have decided for the day). Also, I start horseback riding tomorrow and I am about to pee my pants I’m so excited! I went with the crew of girls and William/Billy, our buddy, to their riding lesson today, and I am SO excited!
I suppose I have to mention the dog-napping story. It has been pretty significant in my experience here. So, I saw this little poodle, obviously recently shaved, roaming the streets. It is important to know that there are stray dogs walking all over town, and it’s a pretty common thing. But this was obviously a purebred, and looked like it just had puppies. So the cerrejero (key maker, but I didn’t know who he was at the time) came up to me and told me someone threw it on the street, and asked me to take it home with me. I said okay (thinking that at best we could try to help it, if not, then it could just go back to where it came from), so I picked it up to show the kids who were at the bus stop. While we were talking, the poodle ran away and I wasn’t going after it so I just decided to let it be. WELL. Somehow, creepily, the keymakerman knows who I am and where I live (?), possibly because I walk by there everyday on my way to school, and when people came looking for the dog, he told them that I had it at my house. So he sent them to my house. Of course, I didn’t have the dog but I told the lady which way it went on Nuñez. However, apparently she didn’t believe me because she and/or her husband returned 5 times that day, thinking that we had the dog inside and had stolen it or something, even though we told them that they could come inside and LOOK for the dog, because I did not have it. I literally told her maybe 27 times which way the dog went. And apparently, while I was at school the next day, she came back to ask which way the dog went. So. I am apparently known as a dog-napper in the neighborhood now. I ran into the keymakerman yesterday on my way home from school and he started yelling at me because I let the dog go (it ran away!) and told me “That dog has an owner!!!”. Well, Mr. Keymakerman, it would be nice if yesterday you had not decided to tell me that someone threw it away and was mistreating it.
Moral of the story – leave the dogs alone.
So I knew it would probably be easy to make friends, since we’re all stranded in a foreign country together, you really don’t have much choice but to get to know each other quickly. However, I could not have imagined the group that I have! Everyone is pretty cool here in general (haha, like I’d admit it if they weren’t), and it is incredible the variety of personalities and characters. However, the group of friends I have found rock my world. Christen, Abby (aka Julia), Alex, and Carolyn (Caro- I’m putting your name last since you decide not to write back on my wall) are some of the coolest, funniest people I have ever met. And our chemistry is amazing. Each individual has such great quirks, like Carolyn’s sense of humor is out of this world. I have never laughed so much in my life, I’m serious. So I’m real glad they let the sheltered girl hang out with them.
My family is also amazing – technically it’s only Susana (mi madre argentina) and me, but the day after I arrived, Susana’s two Swiss nieces arrived with their husbands/boyfriends, and a baby. Additionally, Susana’s brother (El Vacho, the girls’ father) came from Chile with his friend, Rodolfo. So I’ve been learning a lot about Chilean culture as well as Argentine. Chilena, my “tia” (Susana’s sister – I suppose I should mention she is one of 8 siblings, so there are a lot of aunts, uncles, cousins, etc…) lives right down from us, so she and her two sons are always over here as well.
Susana has three grown children, Veronica, German (pronounced Herman) and el Chapu. Veronica comes over often and I am definitely a huge fan. And actually, German was a HUGE help the other day when I had to go get a phone. I haven’t really spent much time with el Chapu, but his wife Ivi and son (Jaoquin, he’s a little baby!) were here the other day and they were a blast. Luckily (I really am blessed, I’m pretty much the only one with this situation) I found wifi right outside of my house, so I can stay pretty connected, but obviously I can’t plug in my computer and the connection isn’t that great.
School is pretty good, we’ve only had two days of classes now. I really like my teacher for the intensive month (or so I have decided for the day). Also, I start horseback riding tomorrow and I am about to pee my pants I’m so excited! I went with the crew of girls and William/Billy, our buddy, to their riding lesson today, and I am SO excited!
I suppose I have to mention the dog-napping story. It has been pretty significant in my experience here. So, I saw this little poodle, obviously recently shaved, roaming the streets. It is important to know that there are stray dogs walking all over town, and it’s a pretty common thing. But this was obviously a purebred, and looked like it just had puppies. So the cerrejero (key maker, but I didn’t know who he was at the time) came up to me and told me someone threw it on the street, and asked me to take it home with me. I said okay (thinking that at best we could try to help it, if not, then it could just go back to where it came from), so I picked it up to show the kids who were at the bus stop. While we were talking, the poodle ran away and I wasn’t going after it so I just decided to let it be. WELL. Somehow, creepily, the keymakerman knows who I am and where I live (?), possibly because I walk by there everyday on my way to school, and when people came looking for the dog, he told them that I had it at my house. So he sent them to my house. Of course, I didn’t have the dog but I told the lady which way it went on Nuñez. However, apparently she didn’t believe me because she and/or her husband returned 5 times that day, thinking that we had the dog inside and had stolen it or something, even though we told them that they could come inside and LOOK for the dog, because I did not have it. I literally told her maybe 27 times which way the dog went. And apparently, while I was at school the next day, she came back to ask which way the dog went. So. I am apparently known as a dog-napper in the neighborhood now. I ran into the keymakerman yesterday on my way home from school and he started yelling at me because I let the dog go (it ran away!) and told me “That dog has an owner!!!”. Well, Mr. Keymakerman, it would be nice if yesterday you had not decided to tell me that someone threw it away and was mistreating it.
Moral of the story – leave the dogs alone.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Counting down the days...
Right now I have 16 days until I leave for Córdoba. I am anticipating that these next 16 days will be some of the longest in my life. So I decided to set up my blog and to come up with some activities for myself to fill up the next two weeks + 2 days.
1. Make my hot showers count. I've heard a lot of study abroad stories of people not having hot water. So I figure I should take a lot of those while I know they're definitely available.
2. Go to the dentist. This will be the worst part of the two weeks. Guaranteed.
I hate the dentist.
3. Go to the orthodontist. This could be one of the highlights of the two weeks. If he were in an orthodontist calendar, he would definitely be Mr. December.
4. Mourn the loss of Peyton's opportunity for another Superbowl victory. I had high hopes for the Colts. To make this Superbowl situation worse, the Cowboys are out. I have lost nearly all interest in the post season.
5. Check the mail. It's one of my favorite pastimes.
6. Continue my reading warpath. So far this break I have read Velvet Elvis, Sex God (both Rob Bell), and Blue Like Jazz (Donald Miller). All three were life changing. Now I'm working on Grace Walk, 100 Years of Solitude, and Searching for God Knows What (another Donald Miller book).
7. Sing along to the Evita soundtrack. I've been in love with this movie since I was 9 years old.
8. Redo my choreography to the Evita soundtrack.
9. Pray that MTV / VH1 has another America's Next Top Model marathon. Posing tips are always appreciated.
10. Music - right now I'm really excited about the new Maroon 5 single, "Won't Go Home Without You." I sang it over and over for like an hour while I was talking to my friend tonight. Sorry Matt. (I'm really not sorry though.)
11. Maybe one day I will pack. Maybe.
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