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).  

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

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.