Yeah so a certain quirk of fate necessitates my leaving Argentina and re-entering before I leave for real. Since my passport with the entry stamp is gone with the wind (ahhh along with my poor puma kicks) I need to get a stamp proving that I actually entered the country legally. That's to say...
Surprise, last-minute trip to Uruguay!
I've wanted to see Montevideo and Colonia since I've been here but figured I'd save the money for my grand exit from magnificent Southern America. However, leaving and coming back is going to allow me to get some more money, so not only am I excited to go, I have to go. It's my destiny. Almost everyone in Buenos Aires has been to Uruguay since it's an easy jump to make if you need to renew a tourist visa (to stay in Argentina legally) so there have been plenty of travel tips to go around. It sounds like it's going to be a really calm, relaxing weekend. I'm going with this guy, Ryan, who I met at the farm, and Kendra. I'm most likely going to be hanging out watching sunrises and sunsets on the beach, drinking mate, drinking beer, and buying very cheap travel things at some street market that gets rave reviews from trusted sources.
So my last weekend in Buenos Aires is actually going to be spent out of the country. Kind of silly I know, but things have tended to take silly turns more often than not around here. Most of the Scandinavian friends I've met are leaving this weekend for good also because they are all here on a study program that just ended. I went to their end-of-semester party last night at this bar in Palermo which turned out to be a costume party. I found out about the costume thing somewhat last minute, but don't exactly have a wealth of clothing choices anyway (I could be "Drew" or "Michael" or "Charly" bless their souls), so Kendra packed her little bottle of fake blood which made its last, and epic, appearance at the "holiday party" at my sorely missed apt in The Heights. This party was thrown to celebrate it all - Christmas, Hanukkah, life in general, the season in general.... but was really a Christmas-decorated, pop-music themed, heathen shit-storm that miraculously didn't earn us a bullet or 30 through the floorboards. Anyway, the blood was a hit, and after a brief period of tension (the Vikings don't warm up to things so fast) everyone who was anyone had at least a little blood smeared on their forehead or forearm. Thanks Kenj.
So then, May 5, all of this ado will be left behind. I don't think I've ever been quite as excited for something as I am for what's coming my way in the next month. We start off easy, drinking wine in Mendoza, coming down from the BAires buzz and seeing some night- and cultural life in Cordoba, and some mountains in Salta. Then headspinning natural beauty in Bolivia, and finally, BAM, Peru. Since I was a wee lad in history class, I've been enthralled to the point of obsession with ancient civilizations. It all started with the Romans. And the Greeks of course, and the myths that inspired my tattoo. Then the Aztecs, which gave me the idea for the first AIM screen name I ever created... whatever, I've always been a weird kid. But mannnn oh man the Incas, truly amazing. I can't even begin to describe by typing how emotionally charged I feel about this whole thing. I don't think there are words anyway, it's just going to be awesomely moving, I'm going to freak out.
A big part of the travel research (which isn't too extensive, something I realized is almost worthless once I got down here) is reading peoples' travel blogs. Most people who have travel blogs actually blog about things they do, rather than rant about whatever is pushing their buttons at the moment. But these people also complain A LOT, which is interesting to read because they write about the worst possible things that could happen. Good to have a picture of how bad it can get before you go. Every plan made on a trip like this has to be made very loosely no matter what, but especially when Kenj and I will be cutting up through Bolivia and Peru, things can get complicated. Simple stuff like infrastructure issues, schedules (or lack of adherence to them), strikes, protests... things that hinder your journey but don't really affect how good of a time you have as long as you're in the mindset to enjoy the SHIT out of everything you're doing. And go prepared with enough supplies to last you a couple days of being stranded, just in case. So I'm excited to be meeting new people again, being on the run, living out of a gym bag and washing my underwear in the shower, stealing bread from the hostel breakfast in the morning to use for a sandwich at lunch....backpacking can be so fun.... and it's soooo not gay. Sometimes I just sit and wonder who I even am and how I could be enjoying this so much. Whatever, I would rather be doing nothing else in the world right now, and as much as I'm going to miss this city, I'm really excited to be leaving the whole urban situation again!
And Auntie-I'll try to stay healthy as best as I can but you know how I eat...
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Reminiscing and Forward Thinking
Me and Natasha, on a boat, after a full day of fun in the sun and trekking thru the forest.
We had just gotten kicked out of this church in Rio, but here's a few of the hostel/Carnaval crew
Me feeling awesome in front of the Copacabana Palace Hotel. Just after the first parade of the night had finished, just before the maniacal disaster I was to become in Lapa. Thanks to Athena for the pic
Leanne was the shit. Met her and Zoe at breakfast alone in the morning, then went mad that night. Behind us are the famous Lapa arches... fun spot! Leanne's photo.
I could have died and gone to heaven. Great company with Sian and Sandra from the hostel, a perfect sunset, and the perfect spot in one of the most amazing cities I've ever seen. Screw San Fran, I left my heart in Rio de Janeiro! Thanks Sian for the photo
Throwing it back to week 2 in Sao Paulo. We are in the midst of a car chase that ended with me schooling the hostel crew on a couple things that night. Thanks to Rory for the photo.
OK hope you guys enjoy the photos! None of them are mine due to A) the fact that my camera got stolen, but B) I never took that many pictures anyway.
It's just a lazy Sunday, sitting around and reminiscing a bit while Kendra and I plan the next leg of our trip. Laundry, beer, and a travel research meeting between the two of us is what I have planned for this afternoon. This weekend has been the most relaxed so far, of the entire trip! On Friday, we went to a house party. It could have easily been a Brooklyn house party, but the vibes were much friendlier. The only difference is that here, instead of jungle juice, the botella loca makes rounds throughout the night. Not really that crazy though, as it seems to always be fernet and coke, a national drink of choice. Not the most drinkable mix in the world, but somehow I like the bitter taste.
Yesterday was a big Earth Day festival in a park nearby, so Kenj and I strolled over and planned on meeting up with a few people. My half of the group didn't show, but we met with a New Yorker friend, Sarit, who we've been seeing quite a bit. A Brazilian singer, Bebel Gilberto, performed live and it made for nice, sultry bossa nova jam session. The evening was icy, but the music made me feel like I should be in a smoke filled room, dirty martini in hand, with curtains waving in the breeze, awaiting some scandalous rendezvous, or more true to my nature, on the beach sipping on something frozen. We finished off by meeting a few new people and going to an Arabic restaurant in San Telmo which turned out to be cheap and delicious. As the night wound down, we headed outside because I was really craving some shisha, but we couldn't smoke inside. We lit it up, and as per usual, passersby make the night more interesting.
A couple walked past trying to sell us some stickers or other junk typical of the streets/buses/subways/trains of Buenos Aires. We didn't want anything, but they asked for a drag from the hookah so I couldn't say no. The woman smoked, made a funny face, and asked what it was. Then the guy had to try, and did exactly the same thing. I guess they thought we were just sitting outside smoking a bong.. Goofy. But no, it was just that lovely sweet tobacco that is the perfect way to wind down after dinner. Then this other random guy who was just standing around asked me, in perfect English, where we were from. All his hair was bleached. Including his eyebrows. But I talked to him anyway, told him Atlanta, and he started name-dropping all over the place about some jewelry stores and connections he has in Atlanta, Georgia. Totally random, because not many people know about Atlanta, except for the airport and coca cola, let alone the state it is in. But anyway, he kept talking about some mail order bride, how he came from Chavez-town to get her here in BA, explained that chavez town is venezuela, how he had all of his things robbed in Bolivia...... running his mouth while saying nothing really. I was enchanted by the lights of street lamps dancing off his perfectly bleached eyebrows, enthralled at how his bleached bangs covered that goofy forehead of his... I was ready for the night to never end with this one, but he said his piece and bowed out.
I have the propensity to converse with crazy people more and more, the older I get. That probably says something about me. The story always unfolds the same, no matter where I am. Someone is weird, talks to me, I think they're funny, keep talking, then end up with some emotional obligation to them. For instance, I met this guy in Union Square right before I left NY and we ended up sharing his lunch on a bench, talking about India (he was like 65, and a tourist from said country) and human-squirrel interaction in Manhattan, chatting in a cafe over coffee.... then all of a sudden I was supposed to be calling him that night to see a movie in Hoboken because we were, in that moment, very good friends... in a very creepy sounding way. Whatever, I had time to kill and I like a story. Obviously I didn't meet him ever again but that's the kind of weird shit I get into. Even better when it's in a foreign country.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
This will be about food.
Today I bought what has turned out to be perhaps the best hunk of salami I've ever eaten. I was coming home from working on the farm and this guy on the street had the most irresistible basket full of cured meats and cheese. OK so most people know I come from an "Italian" family, and to us that means that every Sunday since the day I was born, these things have been a staple. Salami, pepperoni, prosciutto, more stuff I don't even know the names of... plus cheese, olives, whatever special things Nani had on hand that day, bread and wine. Anyway, it's the ultimate comfort food other than sauce. Or gravy, depending on your geographic location (wassssup Jersey!). So here I am blogging, chowing down on some olives from Menoza and this heavenly salami from Cordoba. I'm getting the salami grease all over this keyboard, and Kendra the vegetarian is going to love me for it. What's more - whole way home, all I was thinking about was the huge hunk of skirt steak in my fridge and bottle of malbec on the table. At this very moment, I could die satisfied. Mannnn when I go to Mendoza I'm going to turn purple from all the wine I'll drink. Can't wait.
Also on food, there is a severe lack of spicy options here, something that makes me a little bit anxious. So my vegetable lady, who sometimes has random awesome things like cilantro, plantains, and gorgeous tomatoes, whipped out some aji picante the other day when I was lamenting about the spice issue. First off, the veggie lady is awesome. All the Spanish that I knew before I got here is what I've learned from Mexicans, and to a tiny extent from Dominicans. As far as fruits and veggies go, the names here are different and apparently sound really funny. So I've relearned the Argentinian names for things like avocado and strawberry from her, when she isn't laughing her ass off at me. Anyway, back to the hotness. She whips out these little red chiles and I got 8. I tried one when I got home and it wasn't spicy at all. Of course. So later I put a few in the skillet with my steak to roast em up a little. Holy hell, cooking them was like having a tear gas bomb go off in the apartment. So I bit into one, excitedly anticipating the burn in my mouth, that kind that hurts soooo good, and BAM it freaking tore my face off!! I felt so... alive! Man oh man I sure do love eating. Sweating, panting, drooling, just like at my 21st birthday over the cake I had with my Aunt Denae and Nani at this stupid French restaurant in Manhattan.... I mean, the restaurant wasn't stupid, it was just really weird being in a place where people were eating so quietly. Maybe they weren't having fun or maybe they were just enjoying the shit out of the food because it was that good. Anyway, if the French weren't so pretentious, they really would have it all. But I guess I can't blame them, since they have come up with some pretty awesome things.
Argentinians love to talk about how 'Italian' they are, kind of like me. They always say it with exaggerated gesticulation and use it as an excuse as to why no one is direct here. You never say what you mean, but rather what will earn you the most social grace, much like in the South. But then they eat things like milanesa and polenta and claim it's Argentinian. I like listening to what people here say about their country, and the most truthful thing yet is from Lorena - it is riddled with contradictions. When I went with Kendra to get a cell phone at the rental place, the guy was in the middle of telling us that everyone in Argentina is thin, in good shape, and has great skin, when one of the fattest people I've ever seen walked through, barely squeezing through the doorway. The time I've spent here has been full of silly little moments like that.
Que mas... well I'm still just going on, getting my mind blown every time I go to La Juanita, and having fun at the farm. Both projects together are a great balance because I get to see so much from very different perspectives, and without them, I would be in Argentina with barely any need to speak Spanish-something that has been driving me crazy! Plus, I take home bread and things from the bakery, and today I took some squashes from the farm. I have been getting lettuce, onions, and whatever else is good day to day, and it's all organic, and things that I've been working on growing, I love it.
Our bathroom toilet is broken. This happened back home just about every other weekend (or every time I used it) so I do know my way around the back of a toilet tank, but now a piece is broken off and I have it held together with string. It's... precarious. What I love about renting is being able to shrug problems off on a landlord. Just make a call and wait. As long as the downstairs neighbors don't come over first to tell us we're flooding their apartment, haha.
OK, last thing about food. When Justin was here I got my first taste of the Argentine Parilla. Besides Tango, I think that's the thing this country is most known for. You can't really mess up grilled meat, but the meat we had was really damn good. You basically just order different cuts off the menu and that's it. There are a mountain of side options, but each piece of meat just comes by itself. So we decided on chorizo, mollejas, and bife de chorizo... sausage, sweet breads, and a good ole T-bone. I've always been a fan of sweetbreads but I'd never had them grilled before and damn! It's not for everyone, but that gland made me want to bless the cow, and the farmer who kept it so happy. Meat here lives up to its reputation.
Alright, well I've got a busy afternoon to look forward too. My friend is in Palermo at the park, so that's what I've got going on. I need to quit blogging about food and eat some, then go clean up and get outta here.
Also on food, there is a severe lack of spicy options here, something that makes me a little bit anxious. So my vegetable lady, who sometimes has random awesome things like cilantro, plantains, and gorgeous tomatoes, whipped out some aji picante the other day when I was lamenting about the spice issue. First off, the veggie lady is awesome. All the Spanish that I knew before I got here is what I've learned from Mexicans, and to a tiny extent from Dominicans. As far as fruits and veggies go, the names here are different and apparently sound really funny. So I've relearned the Argentinian names for things like avocado and strawberry from her, when she isn't laughing her ass off at me. Anyway, back to the hotness. She whips out these little red chiles and I got 8. I tried one when I got home and it wasn't spicy at all. Of course. So later I put a few in the skillet with my steak to roast em up a little. Holy hell, cooking them was like having a tear gas bomb go off in the apartment. So I bit into one, excitedly anticipating the burn in my mouth, that kind that hurts soooo good, and BAM it freaking tore my face off!! I felt so... alive! Man oh man I sure do love eating. Sweating, panting, drooling, just like at my 21st birthday over the cake I had with my Aunt Denae and Nani at this stupid French restaurant in Manhattan.... I mean, the restaurant wasn't stupid, it was just really weird being in a place where people were eating so quietly. Maybe they weren't having fun or maybe they were just enjoying the shit out of the food because it was that good. Anyway, if the French weren't so pretentious, they really would have it all. But I guess I can't blame them, since they have come up with some pretty awesome things.
Argentinians love to talk about how 'Italian' they are, kind of like me. They always say it with exaggerated gesticulation and use it as an excuse as to why no one is direct here. You never say what you mean, but rather what will earn you the most social grace, much like in the South. But then they eat things like milanesa and polenta and claim it's Argentinian. I like listening to what people here say about their country, and the most truthful thing yet is from Lorena - it is riddled with contradictions. When I went with Kendra to get a cell phone at the rental place, the guy was in the middle of telling us that everyone in Argentina is thin, in good shape, and has great skin, when one of the fattest people I've ever seen walked through, barely squeezing through the doorway. The time I've spent here has been full of silly little moments like that.
Que mas... well I'm still just going on, getting my mind blown every time I go to La Juanita, and having fun at the farm. Both projects together are a great balance because I get to see so much from very different perspectives, and without them, I would be in Argentina with barely any need to speak Spanish-something that has been driving me crazy! Plus, I take home bread and things from the bakery, and today I took some squashes from the farm. I have been getting lettuce, onions, and whatever else is good day to day, and it's all organic, and things that I've been working on growing, I love it.
Our bathroom toilet is broken. This happened back home just about every other weekend (or every time I used it) so I do know my way around the back of a toilet tank, but now a piece is broken off and I have it held together with string. It's... precarious. What I love about renting is being able to shrug problems off on a landlord. Just make a call and wait. As long as the downstairs neighbors don't come over first to tell us we're flooding their apartment, haha.
OK, last thing about food. When Justin was here I got my first taste of the Argentine Parilla. Besides Tango, I think that's the thing this country is most known for. You can't really mess up grilled meat, but the meat we had was really damn good. You basically just order different cuts off the menu and that's it. There are a mountain of side options, but each piece of meat just comes by itself. So we decided on chorizo, mollejas, and bife de chorizo... sausage, sweet breads, and a good ole T-bone. I've always been a fan of sweetbreads but I'd never had them grilled before and damn! It's not for everyone, but that gland made me want to bless the cow, and the farmer who kept it so happy. Meat here lives up to its reputation.
Alright, well I've got a busy afternoon to look forward too. My friend is in Palermo at the park, so that's what I've got going on. I need to quit blogging about food and eat some, then go clean up and get outta here.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Living Dead in Recoleta
Today Kenj and I went to the Recoleta Cemetery. Her idea. I've never been to a cemetery except to bury a dead person or see someone's grave (only twice in my life) and haven't ever considered going to one as a tourist. Perhaps mainly because I've been haunted before. Go ahead, laugh, but for real! More than once! I've seen some weird shit, and I never really cared to stroll through Downtown Death before. But it was actually pretty. It really was like a mini city for the dead, with plazas, alleys, church steeples, marble and granite facades. Not spooky at all, but I guess the unhappy, wandering spirits wouldn't be shooting the shit in the graveyard anyway. They're harassing people like me.
Now we're waiting for our friend Justin to get in from Kennedy. His flight lands at 5, and Kendra has a skype date at the same time so we're chilling out. It's cold out today, and windy!
I'm about to start getting a little attached to BA, and now I've decided I'm definitely leaving May 5. I booked my flight home for June 6 out of Lima, so I'll have a month to explore some more and hopefully have some more crazy shit happen to me. I'm sure it will, I can feel it. Not anything bad, just something that will leave a big impression. I'm excited to be on the road again, but saying bye has always been hard for me, and now it's going to be time to do it again! It's making me sad thinking that I'll be home soon. I'm overjoyed to be seeing my family, of course, but this trip has just been so exciting! No one tells me what to do, I am my own boss for the volunteer stuff, I meet so many interesting people and have so many interesting and exciting things happen to me... anyway, I'll be on the run from the US of A soon enough again, just a matter of time. No point in thinking about it now anyway because I still have 2 months to go!
Now we're waiting for our friend Justin to get in from Kennedy. His flight lands at 5, and Kendra has a skype date at the same time so we're chilling out. It's cold out today, and windy!
I'm about to start getting a little attached to BA, and now I've decided I'm definitely leaving May 5. I booked my flight home for June 6 out of Lima, so I'll have a month to explore some more and hopefully have some more crazy shit happen to me. I'm sure it will, I can feel it. Not anything bad, just something that will leave a big impression. I'm excited to be on the road again, but saying bye has always been hard for me, and now it's going to be time to do it again! It's making me sad thinking that I'll be home soon. I'm overjoyed to be seeing my family, of course, but this trip has just been so exciting! No one tells me what to do, I am my own boss for the volunteer stuff, I meet so many interesting people and have so many interesting and exciting things happen to me... anyway, I'll be on the run from the US of A soon enough again, just a matter of time. No point in thinking about it now anyway because I still have 2 months to go!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Photos!
Here's the link to Kendra's web album with a few pictures of us and around BA:
http://picasaweb.google.com/kastrouf/BuenosAiresAround?feat=email
Enjoy!
http://picasaweb.google.com/kastrouf/BuenosAiresAround?feat=email
Enjoy!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Mud, Monedas, Music and Nicknames
I just got back from La Juanita. It's raining, and that's not supposed to change for the next couple of days. One issue in La Juanita is that there aren't sewers, just drainage channels, and a lot of the streets and sidewalks aren't paved yet. That's to say it's a good deal less pleasant when it's raining, especially when you consider raw sewage combining with storm water above ground, and then exceeding the capacity of the drainage ditch. This same combination occurs underground in the US, NYC especially, but we don't have to really deal with the consequence - unless you live near the Gowanus Canal in Brooklyn or some similar aquatic delight. Anyway, it's not that bad near the coop, but... shit happens.
Monedas-there is some issue with a national shortage of coins (monedas) or something like that. So it's hard to get coins, but that's the only way to pay for the bus.
Ohh and the buses are such a trip! It's like Xhibit came to Argentina and pimped everyone's bus ride (reference to a bad MTV show). I just learned that all the bus lines are operated by different companies, so maybe it's to attract riders? I'm talking blue/pink/green neon interior lights, little shrines to the Virgin by the windshield, chrome wheels, embroidered curtains, glittery lettering with the crazy font a lot of people use for their tattoos... why would you take a normal bus if you could throw your monedas in that machine? It kind of threw me back to the glory days of having blue flame NOS floor mats in my '89 Corolla, the first thing I bought for that beauty. It couldn't shift into 2nd gear, but with those floor mats, who even cared?
It's kind of driving me crazy that I don't have any of my music at this point. Sometimes there's just a random song that I really want to hear. Otherwise though, I'm perfectly set thanks to my decade-long obsession with Latin music.... and plenty other things Latino, but that's neither here nor there. As fate would have it, there is a lot of Latin music here. Argentina's favorites seem to be Regaeton, which somehow never gets to be too much, and Cumbia, which is different everywhere you go but always has the same chh chh chh, chh chh chh beat. I've yet to see Tango, not because it's not around (because it's everywhere) but because... I don't know why. I will this week though, because another friend is coming to from NY to stay with Kenj and me, so we'll be doing all the fun must-do things that I've been too cool for until now.
I was sleeping at Alejandra's this morning after the bakery shift ended when torrents of rain started pounding down on the tin roof above us. At first it sounded like I was in a dryer machine so it woke me up, but that's the kind of ambient noise that plunges me into a sleep so deep you could think I had died. So that's exactly what happened. Then I started dreaming, and it was one of those deep, intense dreams when what is happening around me becomes a part of the dream rather than waking me up. I forget what the dream evolved into, but I woke up, gradually, to 3 people on top of me - Ale's son, Brandon, drumming on my back and drooling, and Ale and her mom both standing over me to grab him off and let me sleep, haha. It was a good wake up call.
Man, I always talk about Ale because she's the shit, and she was killing me again last night because she was sick, throwing up and feeling horrible, and she still came to work all night even though she hadn't slept all day. I've always been obsessed with tough chicks, especially because the tough girls I know are ten times harder than tough guys. But last night, it was our other companion, Raul, who had the spotlight. Ale and I always take breaks outside to cool down, but Raul works like a horse all night, keeping us on schedule. We were talking about the Paco situation (a new cocaine derivative but it's bad enough to kill people in 6 months) and Raul loved the conversation, and said he had plenty of stories.
To explain Raul a bit first - he's a hell of a nice guy. He knows a lot about baking somehow, and has brought all kinds of awesome ideas for new, high quality but incredibly cheap products, and he's just a cool, warm, friendly guy. He started on about when he was a teenager, started with a lot of different drugs, ended up living in the street for a decade, moved to a province far away, with a lot of snakes, and got his life back together (a painfully miserable process), and now he's just Raul from the bakery. You would never think this guy had a crazy story like that - he doesn't have that used-up look on his face most others tend to get, and is just so... sanguine about everything.
Stories are my favorite part of traveling, and maybe one of my favorite parts of life. You make plenty of your own stories traveling, but I mean that I like hearing other peoples' stories because they are always so much more interesting than anything I would have to say! It's the most fascinating way to learn little life lessons, through someone else's story. It's amazing when I think about little inspiring things that I've picked up from people, whether it's family or someone that leaves my life as quickly as they entered, people have so many interesting thoughts! Sure, most of it is bullshit, but that's why I like talking to people, because the more I hear, the more I'm bound to come across something new and useful. This guy Sean, for instance, I met him in Rio. He's British, a hell of an interesting kid on a cool trip (him and his friend, both 18, had just set out for a year to go around the world... every continent, the first time they've left home) who I was sight seeing with one day. We had just gotten kicked out of a church, and were bitching about it. We were somewhat on the same wave-length, and he goes on to say, I don't give two shits about religion, but I have to respect it, because how can I just disregard something that gives so much hope and passion to millions of people around the world? I was a little shocked because when I was 18 I would have never considered something that deep!
On that note, I'm going to go make some dinner, maybe drink some beer, and get ready to, most likely, have the day off tomorrow because we can't work at the farm when it rains.
Chau gente
Monday, April 12, 2010
Suda conmigo hasta el amanecer...
Sweat with me until the sunrise
I´m writing from La Juanita today. I have a considerable amount of downtime here, especially today, because the boss is out of town until later tonight. I have to get ready for the overnight at the bakery, so after this I´ll lay down and get some shut-eye before I sweat the night away with Alejandra. I´m excited for it because I like all the talking with her and she always opens me up to things I never knew or would have considered. Lorena, my volunteer coordinator, is like that too. Every time we talk, she ends up saying something that makes me say wow. Basic things that I should think about, but don´t, because I´m not a sympathetic person. Example. The other day, Kendra and I met this crazy Chilean guy at Piola. He was alone and we started talking to him. He was really wompy, everything sucked and simple problems had no solution (like, he always goes places alone so he hates traveling. Why don´t you bring a friend? or make friends there? No, he didn´t want to make friends, he preferred to be alone, cooking, but it´s boring). He kept wining about this and that, and we were laughing about it, and he was coming on a little bit strong to Kendra. Then the next time, at Piola, we were laughing with the bartender about how tragic this guy was, and he told us that the guy just found out his wife had been cheating on him. Then we felt bad. We were laughing about it again with Lorena, and she just said ´you never know the moment in someone´s life that your paths are crossing´. So simple, yet so profound, right?
It´s always interesting talking with Lorena, or anyone that has been through the past couple decades here, because their perspective is fascinating. The country was once one of the richer in the world, and then BAM! 2001 comes, the economy crashes, and formerly well-off people have nothing and forget about the others! The peso was equal to the dollar, and it was cheap for them to visit the US, and now it´s a crazy priviledge to be able to save enough money to leave the country. The subsequent national attitude is astounding, and it´s a great lesson for me (or anyone), about cutting losses and how the country is moving on with what´s important. Sometimes without having that which is important, ie food and houses for masses of people. I can´t ever complain about our economy again, as much as I liked whining before. I never struggled, I just wasn´t able to have as much as I wanted. Change is constant - never say never, never say always... you can´t, or shouldn´t count on anything. Argentinians, as a bunch, are in a state of blissful realism about this. It´s precarious, but kind of nice, because everything is relaxed here and people concentrate on enjoying life´s beauty rather than complaining about how nice things used to be. If you´re good today, you enjoy today. You don´t know what comes tomorrow, and hopefully it´s good, but if it´s not, at least you enjoyed today.
Maybe all of the uncertainty lends some explanation as to why the night life is so amazing here - people are just enjoying the hell out of it all. I hope I can hold on to some of this spirit when I get home, shit, for the rest of my life, because it makes things so much easier.
The weekend was a little nuts. I went out to Amerika, a massive club, on Friday night with this Brazilian friend I´m off and on with. People are just flaky here. But we had a great time, ran into some other friends, and it was a crazy night all around. Really crazy. So I got home around 7.30 Saturday morning, slept the night off as best I could, and Kendra and I had a chill drink close to home that night. She´s a little sick so I was glad to not have to go out and get crazy again. Last night we went to La Plata, a suburb, for the Festival Internacional de Folclore - a bunch of Andean music, Argentinian Folk, choripan, and chill vibes. It was a really nice, calm concert going on in a huge park, and the crowd was so incredibly chilled out! Choripan is a grilled chorizo sausage in a bun. Chorizo + Pan (bread) = choripan. Delicious.
So I have this... project... I´m working on in my own personal life, involving a certain someone who works at a shop near my house. I´m at the point where I can say most of the things I´d like to say in Spanish, or at least get the idea across, but at times that´s still not enough... like when you´re trying to be fly with someone that makes your eyes twitch a little because it´s so nice to be looking at them. Hahaha. Anyway, all I mean is that, once I get home, I think I´ll never be shy again because I´ll be able to say whatever I want! But it is motivation to keep learning good stuff, and I´ll grill Alejandra tonight and make her teach me this kind of good stuff.
So my planning continues for the month of May. I have yet to book a flight, because I want to make sure I don´t try to stretch myself too thin. I´m thinking a week in Central Argentina, seeing Cordoba and Mendoza, then up north to hit maybe Salta, on the way to the Bolivian border, where I will cross to Villazon. From there, I´ll see the Salares de Uyuni (the salt flats) in either Uyuni or Tupiza, whichever I make it to, work my way up to Lake Titicaca and La Paz, taking about a week and a half for Bolivia because I´m scared I´ll get altitude sickness and need time to enjoy it. Then to Peru-Machu Picchu and various ruins around it, some hiking and what have you. Then I can shoot up to Lima, most likely, to catch a flight from there. I´m still trying to see if I can work Ecuador into the trip, but the way time goes here, I don´t want to risk it and have to end up stressing about time. Transportation here is really amazing in the sense that you can get to almost any point from anywhere, but the timetables operate on an other-worldly frame. For me it´s chill, I´m on vacation, and if I have to bum around a border crossing or bus station for 6 hours, I can find a conversationalist and shoot the shit no sweat. But that´s the reason I don´t want to stretch myself thin, because once you´ve got a set date for something, you can´t enjoy it as much. Anyway, with that plan, I´ll see a lot of awesome things.
So now, in the just over three weeks I have left in BA, I´m going to sell some things I´ve accrued (funny I actually have extra stuff now) to buy a new bag that I can travel with. At the coop they have market days, so I´ll bring my stuff here and sell it for cheap, or maybe I can even trade clothes if someone is selling bags. Who knows. Alright, I feel like I´m just rambling on about nothing, and I think it´s because I´m tired. I´m gonna find a corner to curl up in here and get ready for the night shift!
I´m writing from La Juanita today. I have a considerable amount of downtime here, especially today, because the boss is out of town until later tonight. I have to get ready for the overnight at the bakery, so after this I´ll lay down and get some shut-eye before I sweat the night away with Alejandra. I´m excited for it because I like all the talking with her and she always opens me up to things I never knew or would have considered. Lorena, my volunteer coordinator, is like that too. Every time we talk, she ends up saying something that makes me say wow. Basic things that I should think about, but don´t, because I´m not a sympathetic person. Example. The other day, Kendra and I met this crazy Chilean guy at Piola. He was alone and we started talking to him. He was really wompy, everything sucked and simple problems had no solution (like, he always goes places alone so he hates traveling. Why don´t you bring a friend? or make friends there? No, he didn´t want to make friends, he preferred to be alone, cooking, but it´s boring). He kept wining about this and that, and we were laughing about it, and he was coming on a little bit strong to Kendra. Then the next time, at Piola, we were laughing with the bartender about how tragic this guy was, and he told us that the guy just found out his wife had been cheating on him. Then we felt bad. We were laughing about it again with Lorena, and she just said ´you never know the moment in someone´s life that your paths are crossing´. So simple, yet so profound, right?
It´s always interesting talking with Lorena, or anyone that has been through the past couple decades here, because their perspective is fascinating. The country was once one of the richer in the world, and then BAM! 2001 comes, the economy crashes, and formerly well-off people have nothing and forget about the others! The peso was equal to the dollar, and it was cheap for them to visit the US, and now it´s a crazy priviledge to be able to save enough money to leave the country. The subsequent national attitude is astounding, and it´s a great lesson for me (or anyone), about cutting losses and how the country is moving on with what´s important. Sometimes without having that which is important, ie food and houses for masses of people. I can´t ever complain about our economy again, as much as I liked whining before. I never struggled, I just wasn´t able to have as much as I wanted. Change is constant - never say never, never say always... you can´t, or shouldn´t count on anything. Argentinians, as a bunch, are in a state of blissful realism about this. It´s precarious, but kind of nice, because everything is relaxed here and people concentrate on enjoying life´s beauty rather than complaining about how nice things used to be. If you´re good today, you enjoy today. You don´t know what comes tomorrow, and hopefully it´s good, but if it´s not, at least you enjoyed today.
Maybe all of the uncertainty lends some explanation as to why the night life is so amazing here - people are just enjoying the hell out of it all. I hope I can hold on to some of this spirit when I get home, shit, for the rest of my life, because it makes things so much easier.
The weekend was a little nuts. I went out to Amerika, a massive club, on Friday night with this Brazilian friend I´m off and on with. People are just flaky here. But we had a great time, ran into some other friends, and it was a crazy night all around. Really crazy. So I got home around 7.30 Saturday morning, slept the night off as best I could, and Kendra and I had a chill drink close to home that night. She´s a little sick so I was glad to not have to go out and get crazy again. Last night we went to La Plata, a suburb, for the Festival Internacional de Folclore - a bunch of Andean music, Argentinian Folk, choripan, and chill vibes. It was a really nice, calm concert going on in a huge park, and the crowd was so incredibly chilled out! Choripan is a grilled chorizo sausage in a bun. Chorizo + Pan (bread) = choripan. Delicious.
So I have this... project... I´m working on in my own personal life, involving a certain someone who works at a shop near my house. I´m at the point where I can say most of the things I´d like to say in Spanish, or at least get the idea across, but at times that´s still not enough... like when you´re trying to be fly with someone that makes your eyes twitch a little because it´s so nice to be looking at them. Hahaha. Anyway, all I mean is that, once I get home, I think I´ll never be shy again because I´ll be able to say whatever I want! But it is motivation to keep learning good stuff, and I´ll grill Alejandra tonight and make her teach me this kind of good stuff.
So my planning continues for the month of May. I have yet to book a flight, because I want to make sure I don´t try to stretch myself too thin. I´m thinking a week in Central Argentina, seeing Cordoba and Mendoza, then up north to hit maybe Salta, on the way to the Bolivian border, where I will cross to Villazon. From there, I´ll see the Salares de Uyuni (the salt flats) in either Uyuni or Tupiza, whichever I make it to, work my way up to Lake Titicaca and La Paz, taking about a week and a half for Bolivia because I´m scared I´ll get altitude sickness and need time to enjoy it. Then to Peru-Machu Picchu and various ruins around it, some hiking and what have you. Then I can shoot up to Lima, most likely, to catch a flight from there. I´m still trying to see if I can work Ecuador into the trip, but the way time goes here, I don´t want to risk it and have to end up stressing about time. Transportation here is really amazing in the sense that you can get to almost any point from anywhere, but the timetables operate on an other-worldly frame. For me it´s chill, I´m on vacation, and if I have to bum around a border crossing or bus station for 6 hours, I can find a conversationalist and shoot the shit no sweat. But that´s the reason I don´t want to stretch myself thin, because once you´ve got a set date for something, you can´t enjoy it as much. Anyway, with that plan, I´ll see a lot of awesome things.
So now, in the just over three weeks I have left in BA, I´m going to sell some things I´ve accrued (funny I actually have extra stuff now) to buy a new bag that I can travel with. At the coop they have market days, so I´ll bring my stuff here and sell it for cheap, or maybe I can even trade clothes if someone is selling bags. Who knows. Alright, I feel like I´m just rambling on about nothing, and I think it´s because I´m tired. I´m gonna find a corner to curl up in here and get ready for the night shift!
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Things that make the world go round
Money, maps, myths... fat bottomed girls.
I've reached a hair past my halfway point in Buenos Aires, and my head is spinning with the world of options dancing through my brain. I'm dreaming in the stratosphere so now I'm going to have to get crafty. Somehow, my ability to hustle did not translate in Argentina. I'm sure I could have tried harder, but shit, everyone is hustlin' here so we're a dime a dozen... hustlers, that is.
It's an interesting thing - when I was planning this trip, I was so very misguided as far as what to anticipate about myself. I always think that I have the ability to foresee how I'll feel, act, react, but I tend to mis-anticipate. I was thinking that I would be really satisfied and more comfortable to stay in Buenos Aires for a long time. Not for any location-specific reason, just because I thought I would be seeking the comfort and stability that familiarity provides. I love BA and I'm really satisfied and fulfilled by the work I'm doing (more on that in a sec), but the bouncing around in Mexico and Brazil, and the subsequent constant state of relative chaos is a freaking addiction! I like being a regular at Piola, and people around the neighborhood know me, but now I almost don't see the point of moving in, getting comfortable and establishing a routine for a mere two months. It's the perfectly equivocal amount of time! Enough to scratch the surface and get a little attached to people places, but not enough to really feel like you've got them by the balls... so to speak. Next time I'll make longer term plans if I want to stay somewhere.
On chaos, to digress briefly. I blogged a while back about this character that Natasha and I shared lunch with in Paraty, Brazil. He was on a kick about how this is the year of the tiger in the Chinese calendar, which means the year is meant to be chaotic. Apparently (well, allegedly because I am repeating what I heard rather than researching for myself) in Chinese culture, chaos is thought of as opportunity rather than calamity. The inherent unpredictability and spontaneity spawned from chaos bring about countless new trails, fresh for the blazing. Great outlook, I love it. I hope that's all actually true and not just some ignorant, misinformed rant based on things I heard from a stranger.
Anyway, on May 5, I'm thrown back into this state of relative chaos like a junky out of rehab. I'm like Paula Abdul - I can't wait. Like I mentioned a couple posts back, I'm thinking about using the money I will save by flying out of somewhere further north and using it for the travel expenses of getting there. I can see so much more that way. Highlights will be the Andes, a salt desert, a giant lake (Titicaca) in the Bolivian mountains (Lake Tahoe x 20) in which the Isla del Sol, a sacred Inca creation site, is situated, and finally the piece de resistance, the magical, mystical, out-of-this-world Machu Picchu. This book I'm looking at describes Peru as a place where truth and myth are intertwined, making the two almost indistinguishable from one another, thanks to the incredibly rich (and persisting) history imparted by the Incas. The country is apparently littered with ruins and I can just imagine the tales told by these places - myths, religion, wars, people, nature, civilization, cultural and scientific advances - amidst the dramatic backdrop undoubtedly imparted by the mountains... it gives me goose bumps. Walking through a field in Mexico with Marisol's family a couple years back, we had to watch the ground to avoid tripping over old terra-cotta relics of the Mayans... literally. It was the most amazing thing I could ever imagine. A lot of people tend to proudly state they are from "the land of the Inca" or the Aztec or Maya or what have you. Their pride is warranted of course, these civilizations are so relentlessly fascinating and complex I feel they could be studied for a lifetime and continue shelling out surprises. Even more, to be constantly reminded that you are living exactly where one of these civilizations existed and left so much behind, must be amazing. Of course we learned about it in school, but to be here, thinking about how this entire continent was home to some of the richest and most advanced civilizations ever seen by this planet, and that their destruction was fueled by nothing more than greed.... jesus, it's sick, it's incomprehensible, it makes me want to puke.
On puking, I told Kendra about how I couldn't stop farting at the farm today, really loudly, and the girls kept looking at me funny, and then she laughed so hard she almost puked in the street.
I changed my hours at the Coop, La Juanita this week to accommodate (honestly) myself, but also my perception of their needs. They have a bunch of flaky volunteers that don't show up to teach classes in the afternoons, and I don't want to work 2 overnight shifts back to back, so I'll be there Monday and Tuesdays during the day, and pull the over-night at the bakery Monday night, sleeping in between. I taught computation to this older lady the other day, and she didn't even know how to use the mouse! So it's good for me because I can learn computer words in Spanish...because I teach the class in Spanish. Then I teach the chicos English later, also in Spanish. It works out alright, and they are all really appreciative and nice, but I feel bad because I can't be explaining things properly!
Working the overnight with Alejandra at the bakery is turning out to be quite the experience. Going to La Juanita in the first place is like a pinch on the arm, reminding me that I'm not in Kansas any more, because BA can get pretty cozy. When two people work entire nights together, I don't think you can help but form some distinct type of bond. I think something happens to the brain after 3 or 4 am. But we go outside to chill and Ale just breaks it down for me, always. I can't understand everything she says, but I get the drift most of the time. Basically, there is no perceivable way to get out of the mess that the majority of the people are in. This was a two hour conversation and I can't even begin to get into it. Government regulations that are completely nonsense, even inhumane - making the bad politics and shitty economy non-issues. One thing, for instance, this kid Nico, who works at the bakery, who is awesome and cracks me up, has appendicitis. No insurance = public hospital. Ok, that's pretty typical, but in this particular area, you are only seen if the situation is urgent, which a ruptured appendix isn't considered to be. Not until he has an actual infection will they treat him, and obviously he's a lot more screwed and toying with some serious effects like dying by then. How!?
It's always something. No matter how accustomed to shit like that you can get, it's still shocking and a huge bummer. We're so lucky. Part of the issue Ale and I talked about was how people can't afford food, and she's saying they need to start planting things in their yards. But they're Argentinian, she says, so they're used to buying everything at the store, because things never used to be this bad. They don't know how to plant and grow things. Next day, I was talking to Fabian, another guy at the Coop, and brought up their little "campo" which is literally 2' x 10' and he said it was more to use as an educational thing, to show people how to prepare soil and plant crops. I told him I'm learning that stuff at the School of Agriculture and asked if I could bring anything from there to help teach, and he was enthused. Then today, I spoke with my director at the School, and she's going to give me a bunch of papers and books to bring them! Then I stole some seeds from the school so we can plant beans next Monday at La Juanita, but the School is interested in getting involved anyway... how cool! Team work rocks.
I've reached a hair past my halfway point in Buenos Aires, and my head is spinning with the world of options dancing through my brain. I'm dreaming in the stratosphere so now I'm going to have to get crafty. Somehow, my ability to hustle did not translate in Argentina. I'm sure I could have tried harder, but shit, everyone is hustlin' here so we're a dime a dozen... hustlers, that is.
It's an interesting thing - when I was planning this trip, I was so very misguided as far as what to anticipate about myself. I always think that I have the ability to foresee how I'll feel, act, react, but I tend to mis-anticipate. I was thinking that I would be really satisfied and more comfortable to stay in Buenos Aires for a long time. Not for any location-specific reason, just because I thought I would be seeking the comfort and stability that familiarity provides. I love BA and I'm really satisfied and fulfilled by the work I'm doing (more on that in a sec), but the bouncing around in Mexico and Brazil, and the subsequent constant state of relative chaos is a freaking addiction! I like being a regular at Piola, and people around the neighborhood know me, but now I almost don't see the point of moving in, getting comfortable and establishing a routine for a mere two months. It's the perfectly equivocal amount of time! Enough to scratch the surface and get a little attached to people places, but not enough to really feel like you've got them by the balls... so to speak. Next time I'll make longer term plans if I want to stay somewhere.
On chaos, to digress briefly. I blogged a while back about this character that Natasha and I shared lunch with in Paraty, Brazil. He was on a kick about how this is the year of the tiger in the Chinese calendar, which means the year is meant to be chaotic. Apparently (well, allegedly because I am repeating what I heard rather than researching for myself) in Chinese culture, chaos is thought of as opportunity rather than calamity. The inherent unpredictability and spontaneity spawned from chaos bring about countless new trails, fresh for the blazing. Great outlook, I love it. I hope that's all actually true and not just some ignorant, misinformed rant based on things I heard from a stranger.
Anyway, on May 5, I'm thrown back into this state of relative chaos like a junky out of rehab. I'm like Paula Abdul - I can't wait. Like I mentioned a couple posts back, I'm thinking about using the money I will save by flying out of somewhere further north and using it for the travel expenses of getting there. I can see so much more that way. Highlights will be the Andes, a salt desert, a giant lake (Titicaca) in the Bolivian mountains (Lake Tahoe x 20) in which the Isla del Sol, a sacred Inca creation site, is situated, and finally the piece de resistance, the magical, mystical, out-of-this-world Machu Picchu. This book I'm looking at describes Peru as a place where truth and myth are intertwined, making the two almost indistinguishable from one another, thanks to the incredibly rich (and persisting) history imparted by the Incas. The country is apparently littered with ruins and I can just imagine the tales told by these places - myths, religion, wars, people, nature, civilization, cultural and scientific advances - amidst the dramatic backdrop undoubtedly imparted by the mountains... it gives me goose bumps. Walking through a field in Mexico with Marisol's family a couple years back, we had to watch the ground to avoid tripping over old terra-cotta relics of the Mayans... literally. It was the most amazing thing I could ever imagine. A lot of people tend to proudly state they are from "the land of the Inca" or the Aztec or Maya or what have you. Their pride is warranted of course, these civilizations are so relentlessly fascinating and complex I feel they could be studied for a lifetime and continue shelling out surprises. Even more, to be constantly reminded that you are living exactly where one of these civilizations existed and left so much behind, must be amazing. Of course we learned about it in school, but to be here, thinking about how this entire continent was home to some of the richest and most advanced civilizations ever seen by this planet, and that their destruction was fueled by nothing more than greed.... jesus, it's sick, it's incomprehensible, it makes me want to puke.
On puking, I told Kendra about how I couldn't stop farting at the farm today, really loudly, and the girls kept looking at me funny, and then she laughed so hard she almost puked in the street.
I changed my hours at the Coop, La Juanita this week to accommodate (honestly) myself, but also my perception of their needs. They have a bunch of flaky volunteers that don't show up to teach classes in the afternoons, and I don't want to work 2 overnight shifts back to back, so I'll be there Monday and Tuesdays during the day, and pull the over-night at the bakery Monday night, sleeping in between. I taught computation to this older lady the other day, and she didn't even know how to use the mouse! So it's good for me because I can learn computer words in Spanish...because I teach the class in Spanish. Then I teach the chicos English later, also in Spanish. It works out alright, and they are all really appreciative and nice, but I feel bad because I can't be explaining things properly!
Working the overnight with Alejandra at the bakery is turning out to be quite the experience. Going to La Juanita in the first place is like a pinch on the arm, reminding me that I'm not in Kansas any more, because BA can get pretty cozy. When two people work entire nights together, I don't think you can help but form some distinct type of bond. I think something happens to the brain after 3 or 4 am. But we go outside to chill and Ale just breaks it down for me, always. I can't understand everything she says, but I get the drift most of the time. Basically, there is no perceivable way to get out of the mess that the majority of the people are in. This was a two hour conversation and I can't even begin to get into it. Government regulations that are completely nonsense, even inhumane - making the bad politics and shitty economy non-issues. One thing, for instance, this kid Nico, who works at the bakery, who is awesome and cracks me up, has appendicitis. No insurance = public hospital. Ok, that's pretty typical, but in this particular area, you are only seen if the situation is urgent, which a ruptured appendix isn't considered to be. Not until he has an actual infection will they treat him, and obviously he's a lot more screwed and toying with some serious effects like dying by then. How!?
It's always something. No matter how accustomed to shit like that you can get, it's still shocking and a huge bummer. We're so lucky. Part of the issue Ale and I talked about was how people can't afford food, and she's saying they need to start planting things in their yards. But they're Argentinian, she says, so they're used to buying everything at the store, because things never used to be this bad. They don't know how to plant and grow things. Next day, I was talking to Fabian, another guy at the Coop, and brought up their little "campo" which is literally 2' x 10' and he said it was more to use as an educational thing, to show people how to prepare soil and plant crops. I told him I'm learning that stuff at the School of Agriculture and asked if I could bring anything from there to help teach, and he was enthused. Then today, I spoke with my director at the School, and she's going to give me a bunch of papers and books to bring them! Then I stole some seeds from the school so we can plant beans next Monday at La Juanita, but the School is interested in getting involved anyway... how cool! Team work rocks.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Tigre and Easter Stories
First off, Happy Easter to everyone. I didn't do anything special for it, but I did walk past a church that was having mass outside, so I got my dose. The past 4 days have been holidays, so Kenj and I have just been hanging out and sight seeing. I thought I'd seen most of the noteworthy sights here already, but we walked around Recoleta today and it's amazingly posh and beautiful. I was looking into staying there for my time in BA, but now I'm glad I didn't because it's way too nice, I wouldn't feel right there! It's got vibes kind of similar to Park Avenue Manhattan... and nothing I can really think of in ATL, maybe the part of Buckhead by the Governor's Mansion. We've put in a lot of time at Piola, and I now know the owner of the entire company, he's this older Italian guy that lives here part of the year. They just opened one in Atlanta, in Midtown on 14th Street, so I guess I'll have to spend some time there when I get back. That place really is crazy, it's like a time warp back to the days that people greeted their neighbors, had milkmen, and kids played in the street, only set to the thumping beat of that type of electronic music they play in every swanky bar and restaurant. Haha that probably sounds weird, but it's just a place that isn't what it appears to be. Walking in, you expect a certain pretentious air, but it's not like that. I love it when things aren't what they appear.
Today is the first day it feels like Fall.. it's so crisp and chilly that now I actually have to buy a real jacket! Usually it has been warming up during the day, but now, no. I like this weather, but it's going to make it even nicer getting back home during the summer time. On that, I was looking at flights home the other day and it's several hundred dollars cheaper to fly out of Lima, Peru or other places further north. I did some number crunching and am now thinking about maybe hitting some combination of Colombia, Paraguay, Peru, and Bolivia on my way back. It would be nice, since I'm already on the continent, to see more before I leave. These places are so cheap to stay that, if I use the money I save by getting a cheaper flight from further away and spend it on the trip to get there, I almost break even. So I'll see about that, and hopefully have an awesome end of the trip. Since it's turning winter now, high tourist season is over and prices are going down, lucky us.
Kendra and I went to Tigre yesterday with Lorena, my awesome volunteer coordinator. Tigre is a northern suburb of BA that rests at the tip of a delta formed by the Rio Parana. We had lunch at this place Lorena knew - a huge plate dried meats and cheeses-I'm talking a bunch of different salamis, prosciutto, ham, and some other stuff I had no idea about... ahhh it was perfect! Kendra's a veggie so she had sundried tomatoes marinated in olive oil and herbs, que rico. The lunch was a fantastic homage to Argentina's Italian influence and I could have died. Lorena suggested splitting a beer, but with that kind of food, I couldn't, so I asked if we could get red wine. She kind of paused a second, looked me in the eye, and said she respected that. I still can't totally read people here, so I don't know if she thought I was being pretentious or a bitch or if she was surprised or what. Her background is half Italian too, and the other half is French, poor thing, so maybe we were on the same wave length. Then we took a boat ride around the canals that make the neighborhood what it is. Canals in Argentina, who woulda thought? I had no idea.
Alright, the other day Kendra told me a story and I was obsessed. Get ready to roll your eyes, some of you, because it's one of those metaphorical things that I freak out over, but I know it's kind of tacky. She was in a park somewhere on one of her trips, and was watching this guy, sitting on a bench, trying to feed a pigeon. He threw some crumbs in front of him, and the pigeon didn't notice. He threw some more, and to his great dismay, the pigeon still didn't acknowledge his act of generosity. He got up and walked away, looking bummed out by the pigeon's negligence. Maybe the pigeon wasn't hungry, or was scared to get close to him, or maybe it was just stupid. Meanwhile, Kendra was watching and realized that, between the bird and the man was a tuft of grass growing up through the sidewalk. It was low enough to the ground that it couldn't have occurred to the man that it would be an issue, but from Kendra's perspective, it was thick and tall enough to block the pigeon's view of the bread crumbs. She went, threw some crumbs on the other side of the grass, and the pigeon ate them up.
I liked this story, because it kind of goes along with a lot of what they tried to get across to us at Fordham, and a basic matter of life. you You have to be able to put yourself in someone else's shoes to an extent. No matter what you're trying to do, if you don't bend to understand where the other person is coming from, how can you expect them to understand you? The guy had what the pigeon wanted, but expected the pigeon to come to him just because of that. It took a 3rd party with the proper point of view to get the pigeon its food. I dunno, I could draw a lot of little things from the story. The pigeon is small, so a little bunch of grass was enough to impede its line of sight to the food it obviously wanted. The guy was disappointed that he didn't get to feed the bird, but if only he had realized that they were looking at the same exact thing, just with very different perspectives, and adjusted his approach accordingly, they could have both been satisfied.
OK story time is over, hope someone liked it! Happy Easter people.
Today is the first day it feels like Fall.. it's so crisp and chilly that now I actually have to buy a real jacket! Usually it has been warming up during the day, but now, no. I like this weather, but it's going to make it even nicer getting back home during the summer time. On that, I was looking at flights home the other day and it's several hundred dollars cheaper to fly out of Lima, Peru or other places further north. I did some number crunching and am now thinking about maybe hitting some combination of Colombia, Paraguay, Peru, and Bolivia on my way back. It would be nice, since I'm already on the continent, to see more before I leave. These places are so cheap to stay that, if I use the money I save by getting a cheaper flight from further away and spend it on the trip to get there, I almost break even. So I'll see about that, and hopefully have an awesome end of the trip. Since it's turning winter now, high tourist season is over and prices are going down, lucky us.
Kendra and I went to Tigre yesterday with Lorena, my awesome volunteer coordinator. Tigre is a northern suburb of BA that rests at the tip of a delta formed by the Rio Parana. We had lunch at this place Lorena knew - a huge plate dried meats and cheeses-I'm talking a bunch of different salamis, prosciutto, ham, and some other stuff I had no idea about... ahhh it was perfect! Kendra's a veggie so she had sundried tomatoes marinated in olive oil and herbs, que rico. The lunch was a fantastic homage to Argentina's Italian influence and I could have died. Lorena suggested splitting a beer, but with that kind of food, I couldn't, so I asked if we could get red wine. She kind of paused a second, looked me in the eye, and said she respected that. I still can't totally read people here, so I don't know if she thought I was being pretentious or a bitch or if she was surprised or what. Her background is half Italian too, and the other half is French, poor thing, so maybe we were on the same wave length. Then we took a boat ride around the canals that make the neighborhood what it is. Canals in Argentina, who woulda thought? I had no idea.
Alright, the other day Kendra told me a story and I was obsessed. Get ready to roll your eyes, some of you, because it's one of those metaphorical things that I freak out over, but I know it's kind of tacky. She was in a park somewhere on one of her trips, and was watching this guy, sitting on a bench, trying to feed a pigeon. He threw some crumbs in front of him, and the pigeon didn't notice. He threw some more, and to his great dismay, the pigeon still didn't acknowledge his act of generosity. He got up and walked away, looking bummed out by the pigeon's negligence. Maybe the pigeon wasn't hungry, or was scared to get close to him, or maybe it was just stupid. Meanwhile, Kendra was watching and realized that, between the bird and the man was a tuft of grass growing up through the sidewalk. It was low enough to the ground that it couldn't have occurred to the man that it would be an issue, but from Kendra's perspective, it was thick and tall enough to block the pigeon's view of the bread crumbs. She went, threw some crumbs on the other side of the grass, and the pigeon ate them up.
I liked this story, because it kind of goes along with a lot of what they tried to get across to us at Fordham, and a basic matter of life. you You have to be able to put yourself in someone else's shoes to an extent. No matter what you're trying to do, if you don't bend to understand where the other person is coming from, how can you expect them to understand you? The guy had what the pigeon wanted, but expected the pigeon to come to him just because of that. It took a 3rd party with the proper point of view to get the pigeon its food. I dunno, I could draw a lot of little things from the story. The pigeon is small, so a little bunch of grass was enough to impede its line of sight to the food it obviously wanted. The guy was disappointed that he didn't get to feed the bird, but if only he had realized that they were looking at the same exact thing, just with very different perspectives, and adjusted his approach accordingly, they could have both been satisfied.
OK story time is over, hope someone liked it! Happy Easter people.
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