y feliz cumpleaños a chris!

*crash*

Today one of the program directors talked about what it feels like to get sick of the city. 

Too much pollution. 

Too much noise.

Too fast.

Too many people.

And later, in the hot afternoon sun, as I walked down a busy, smelly, dilapidated sidewalk, I remembered the feeling I had alone in Hotel Roma. Phone-less, internet-less, and far from the downtown streets, I felt isolated. I kept BBC World on at all moments, including while I slept, as a reminder that there are indeed people in the world. I yearned for human interaction. My conversations with cab drivers were the highlight of my day. I needed so badly just to be in the presence of people. 

But oddly, in reality, in big cities like Rome and Buenos Aires, the presence of people is actually all there is. It's easy to feel a bit isolated when you don't have many relationships in the city, but the simple presence of people is ubiquitous. You see it directly, when you dodge the hordes of traffic and pedestrians. But you also see it in the very establishment of the city itself. Buildings, signs, graffiti, trash, lights, noise--it's all human creation. And embracing these things is like feeling the beating pulse of the city. As the pulse becomes a constant force in your life, you are naturally connecting with the other human beings who are dependent on its continued beating.

I didn't always feel the pulse at home. I seem to have been spoiled by my hometown. I'm blind to much of the struggle in the world, because it seems like in Boulder, everyone is "happy." And if they aren't, well by golly, they'll do what they need to do to change it. Most people have a means to happiness in Boulder--the resources to create the life they need. If things don't go perfectly, well shoot, we've got those Rocky Mountains and one of the most beautiful views in the country. Life isn't so bad, afterall. 

But what happens when you don't have the luxury to escape into nature? What happens if you live in a big, stinky, dynamic wave pool of a home in which very little is at your command?

Well, you breathe the pollution, you argue fruitlessly with taxi drivers, and you learn to sleep to the noise. 

But what is beautiful is that all of the city breathes pollution. And everyone is arguing for the same reason: because they need this money. And each person hears the same harmony of cursing and honking as they drift off to sleep each night. 

The city is a living, breathing organism, dependent on the endurance of its organs--the people. Everyone is in it together. When I think about that, all the noise, the grime, and the subsequent growth...well, I realize how truly nourishing it is to witness them.  

..and feliz cumpleaños a mi mama.

¡Los Detalles!

We've not yet gotten into much of a routine here in the program. 

Orientation is still occurring, and we basically receive a couple hours of vague, generalized information about the education system, and then get an absurd amount of time to "tomar cafe" or eat empanadas. But, I'll share with you a little bit of what I've been up to thus far.

 The staff on the program is incredibly friendly. They are all young and beautiful. They'll lounge around the courtyard during breaks. While draped across stairs and cafe chairs, dangling cigarettes, they look like they were plucked out of a Vogue shoot. 

I live with Ines. She has a many connections to FLACSO (la facultad latinoamerica de ciencias sociales), which is our home institution on the program. She has been a conversation and subject tutor, which is wonderful for me. She loves to chat and is more than happy to correct my verb conjugations and broken phrasing. Ines is a petite woman in her late 30s of Spanish and German descent (although her heritage no le importa). She is bubbly and friendly and a cousin to Juan, one of the staff members of the program. There are two Juans, so many of the girls refer to him as "sexiJuan." Ines finds this rather comical. 

We live in a fairly spacious apartment on the first floor up. We have a balcony, but the neighborhood is not a particularly great view. Lots of graffiti, neon signage, trash. Walking me home from a party last night, one of the guys on the program said, "Damn, you live in the Barrio, chica." I have my own room though, and a big one at that, and internet, so I can't complain. Especially since I'm less than a ten minute walk away from FLACSO and one of the Universidad de Buenos Aires (UBA) buildings. 

I like Buenos Aires a lot. Still not certain if I could live in a big city like this, but I feel quite comfortable. One of the things that strikes me is the mix of buzzing big city glitz and the laid-back latin american attitude. Things don't often occur on time, but they will occur...eventually. I have not really gotten the uber-narcissistic nationalist vibe yet, but apparently the rest of the continent detests Argentinians for their snobbery. When the country thinks it's part of Europe, I suppose I can understand. One kid on the program, with the utmost political correctness, observed Buenos Aires as a city that seems like "a bunch of Italians landed in Mexico." 

One of my big fears about the big city was simply maneuvering it. There are 5 subte lines (subways) and a bazillion bondis (buses) and a lot of hustling taxi drivers. I'm extremely thankful Chris and I went to Rome this year, so I could get some exposure to the big city before arriving. I'm doing extremely well, and in fact, I've become sort of an authority among my program friends for navigation. I feel very accomplished--not having gotten lost and needing to pay 300 pesos to get home. *knock on wood*

The weather is great right now. It's hot, but not uncomfortably so, and we get a wonderful breeze. Although, at home on Azcenagua and Corrientes, the breeze smells like hot concrete. I got used to the humidity much quicker than I anticipated, and now have the perpetual glow of somebody with truly healthy skin. It's awesome. Although, with amount of red meat I have been consuming, I'd venture to guess I'm not at my healthiest. 

How is the red meat, you ask? You hear it's known the world over?? Well, the quality of meat is definitely great, but as mi amigo nuevo Esteban tells me, Argentine gastronomics are bit boring. When a slab of steak lands on your plate at a restaurant, there is nothing there but the meat. No sauce, no sides, no spices. Meat. Good meat, but bare. Ines says when she eats food, she wants to eat the food...not chimichurri, not mayonnaise, but the food itself. I can respect that, but it still surprises me. I've had a couple Italian dishes that I liked a lot, the fracturas are bomb (sweet crossiants for breakfast), and apparently pizza is something I NEED to try here. Empanadas are good too, but can be hit or miss (particularly in the digestive department). 

Argentina is on the rise, economically. All these stories about Buenos Aires being this secret pocket of dirt-cheap luxury are nearly obsolete-- it looks like the secret is out. It's definitely cheaper here than the US, and WAY cheaper than Europe, but it was not the tourist dream scene it was between 2002-2005. Taxis charge twice as much as they did two years ago, and it's not hard to spend money at restaurants at the same rate you would in the US--especially in the nicer neighborhoods like Palermo and Puerto Madero. I have to be careful. 

Dad comes out to visit in less than a week. He will be able to stay with Ines and I in the barrio, and Ines will be a great connection because she is pretty plugged into the musical scene. I may take him to see El Bomba de Tiempo ("the time bomb"), which is a phenomenally popular improvisational drum show that each week, but it's getting a bit out of hand. There was nearly a riot outside the door last night. I was inches away from an angry member of the mob headbutting the bouncer. No joke. When the other guards tackled the rogue fan, his foot got caught on the strap of my purse and I nearly fell into the brawl of five 150 pound men beating the shit out of each other. I was totally fine, of course, but lord, was that exhilarating. I suppose Dad, who is bigger than any Argentine men I have seen, would not be such a bad companion! 

More to come--we get placed in our spanish levels tomorrow so that we can begin registering for classes and being actual students (sigh...), but I think there is a trip to Punto Este (the best Uruguayan beach) this weekend, so we'll try and hold onto the summer as long as possible. 

white flight.

My stay at the amazing Hostel Estoril has come to an end. My friends who work there, though, are reason enough for me to take up their offer to come back any time. And not just to stay, but to ask questions, get help about the city, or even just hang out. They said they would love for me to return. And I have every intention of doing so because I so far I've learned a great deal chatting with the staff about Buenos Aires and the spanish language, and it has been a major highlight. Esteban took me to the Botanical Gardens in Palermo, a beautiful oasis in the middle of the city. We wandered around and he humored my spanish skills, and it was lovely. I stayed up all night with Nacho (short for Ignacio) and talked about economics and music and all the crazy foreigners who come through the hostel. I loved that they were willing to suffer through my broken grammar and correct my silly mistakes. I was so pleased that when they spoke super slow and clearly...I could understand them! I love that hostel and its roof terrace. I will certainly  return. 

I had to be extremely proactive in minimizing my contact with the the other tourists staying there. I did make some good friends from the states, but they had many connections in the city, from which I made even more local friends. 

I didn't like being exposed to all the English that come along with quick trip tourists in Latin America, and I am now nervous about the way this program will unfold given the amount of English speakers. There are 100 American students here. Already I can see cliques forming and freaked out people clutching to one another. I must not succumb to that. If I truly, truly enjoy somebody's company, of course I won't force myself away from them; but I refuse to spend the great deal of my semester with short term friends whose only purpose is to calm my foreign country jitters. 

I've got contacts here already, people to spend time with and practice spanish. Eye on the prize: learn spanish!! 

Safe!

Took a very smooth flight from DC to BA, where most of the passengers were elderly folks getting prepared for a cruise to Antarctica! I befriended an 80-something year old Catholic bishop from North Dakota who wouldn't stop buying me treats in the terminal. He was a good friend. Hope you have fun on that cruise, Father Schneider, where ever you may be...

Landed and hopped aboard a shuttle to the city center, checked into a very youthful urban hostel. I'm in a dorm room with 5 other girls. It feels like one giant slumber party. A little wild, don't think I'll reserve my Dad a room here for when he gets to the city...

There's a rooftop bar and terrace with a small swimming pool, free wifi, included breakfast, and towels, and all that jazz. 

Spent the day wandering around the neighborhood, saw some cool buildings and enjoyed the hot weather. My new friend Ryan and I watched Boca Juniors lose to Newall on the big screen at Locos por el Fútbol, a restaurant near the Recoleta cemetery. We ate burgers and drank Quilmes--the national beer of Argentina, which pretty much is an equal to something like Coors Light...but it was nice on a hot day! 

My spanish is SUBPAR, to say the least. I really struggled having any conversations with waiters and such. I think once I get away from all these Americans and find a language partner or something, it might be easier. But today was a little discouraging. I felt like I was still in Italy...that's how little I understood the accent and content. 

I dig Buenos Aires. Though I feel like I've barely made a dent on what there is to see and do in the city. Woo-wee, this is going to be an exciting semester!

Is it possible to embark on international travel without money or a passport???

my passport grew legs and walked out of my room. 

my bank cancelled my card because of a "security breach" and somebody eff-ed up over there so there is a chance I won't get a new one until....after I have left the country. 

of course, i can't leave the country without a passport, so...

time to enroll at CU? 

shoot.