g is for…


gracias to my wonderful parents and family members who have ALWAYS been there for me, who have cheered me on during my life’s highs and picked me up during it’s lows. i really wouldn’t be half the person i am today if it weren’t for each and everyone of you. and although today we’re 5,500 miles apart i’m thinking of all of your today. we have our going away dinner tonight with all of the students and staff of IFSA. they are bringing in turkey to honor thanksgiving. regardless, dad, i’m putting you in charge of having seconds (no wait, probably thirds) to take care of my portion. remember, i like olives, cranberry sauce, lots of stuffing, and cheesy potatoes. and don’t forget the apple pie.

gracias to my friends. near friends, far friends, old friends, new friends, best friends and even just acquaintances, thank you. wherever you are in the world, i am thankful for you today. thank you for challenging me to become a better person. thank you for all of the laughs, all of the tears (both happy and sad), and all of the wonderful conversations that make getting out of bed each morning so much easier.

gracias to susy, my CRAZY host mom who has taught me so much over these past four months. thank you for correcting my articles and my improper use of the subjunctive. thank you for laughing when i want to cry. thank you for the countless good meals you have provided and even the few meals i didn’t really enjoy but stomached anyway. thank you for taking me in and making me a part of your family and of your life. i will never forget these four months on emilio jofre.

gracias to the country of argentina. your landscapes, breathtaing. your people, incredibly warm and welcoming. your food, fattening but delicious (minus the glandulas and morcilla). and your climate, always sunny and dry.

gracias to my (terrible) improv professor. thanks to your class, i have met some absolutely wonderful people. i have spent the past four months putting myself out there. yes, i’ve made a few mistakes (okay more like a million), but i have learned. i will never forget that corazón is a masculine word. and i have had my argentine theater debut and i hate to admit, i actually enjoyed it. also, thanks to you, i WILL, after all be able to spend a week travelling uruguay. 

gracias to whoever is out there controlling the universe for somehow always managing to work things out. you never fail.

happy thanksgiving!

a is for…

i’ve decided to try something new. why not go through the alphabet, giving you a little glimpse into a few of my favorite things ARGENTINA, a through z. i don’t know how this is going to turn out.. i’m afraid i might not be able to come up with something for every letter. but here is my best attempt. thanks to emily’s recent blog post and 1450 point deficit for my alphabet game inspiration, i’m just working on my vocabulary skills here people.

so, here goes nothing.

asado. (noun) a large conglomeration of meat. a larger conglomeration of family. asados are typical sunday afternoon (although they do happen every night of the week, if the occasion arises) gathering that brings together whichever kids, grandkids, aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors, and friends are living close, or sort of close by. in the early afternoon, the meat goes on the grill. and not just the meat. we’re talking each and every part of the animal, be it pig, cow, chicken etc. (morcilla – blood sausage for example) now i haven’t quite exactly figured the perfect asado technique.. and i am sure each and every grill master has their own secret tips and tricks, but one thing i do know is the meat sits and soaks up flavor for HOURS. while the parilla (grill) radiates a wonderful aroma into the neighborhood, LITERALLY, the  rest of the guests uncork a bottle of malbec, and share stories and advice. and this is the point where each and every time i fall in love again with argentina and its rich culture. EVERY sunday families get together. EVERY sunday they share stories. EVERY sunday they invite relatives, friends old and new, and make people like me feel SO welcomed. EVERY sunday they make people like me never want to leave this country.

acequias. (noun). danger. acequias are the source of irrigation for the city of mendoza. they are also the source of water for the car washers along every street in the city and the collectors of a good portion of the city’s trash. dirty, and only sometimes containing water they are a pest, more than anything when trying to get from one place to another. let’s just say i’ve got really good at acequia-jumping to avoid falling into said ‘gringo traps’.

election day.

today is the day. today is that day, according to the first primary election in argentina’s history, that the current president christina fernandez kirchner will be re-elected for another four years in office. i guess we’ll find out later tonight. i know it will be the only thing on the news for the next week or so. although politics is normally a completely taboo topic amongst friends and family here in argentina, lately i’ve heard more and more about the presidential race and dirty politics of this country. the dirt includes: parties driving people to the ballots and then paying them $25 to vote for said party, gifting computers to 17 year olds who would be 18 at the time of elections, going into poor slums and giving members of the villas miserias (as they are referred to here) one shoe, promising to bring the other half of the pair once elections are over. i’m not a history buff and couldn’t properly explain to you some vital information that would help you understand a little more the significance of this election and the meaning of argentine politics as a whole, so take a look at emily’s blog, a friend of mine from the program who does a really great job explaining the mess that is this nation’s political system.

despite all of the dirty politics, insane campaign propaganda, required cut off of said propaganda as of yesterday morning, and the cut off of liquor sales as of 6pm last night (a complete wrapping off with caution tape of the liquore aisle in the grocery store to assure that there is ABSOLUTELY no drinking and voting. ha) i think the thing that is really getting to me is the obligatory vote. yes, i think that voting is an incredibly important part of our civic duty as citizens of a country and believe that everyone, if able, should take part in a country’s elections. i’m just having a hard time grasping how argentina, a country of about 42 million people is capable of organizing and maintaining a non-electronic election (as far as i’m aware) when the sunday afternoon rush of 50 people at the grocery store is too much for them to handle.

foto del día – 10.22.11

SANTIAGO POLICE: authentic authority.

During our short trip to Chile, I couldn’t help but notice the positive presence of the Chilean police for, or the Carabineros. The Chileans are incredibly proud (rightfully so) of their local police force and actually respect their authority. With their incredibly sharp uniforms, their smiles and kind welcomes to us tourists, their well groomed and not to mention beautifully bred canine force, and their incredible mounted force atop impeccable horses, the Carabineros area hard force to disrespect.

MENDOZA POLICE: pathetically present.

What a change from Mendoza. Not that I’ve ever felt incredibly unsafe here, I’ve just never felt like I could approach a police officer to ask for directions, something I feel like you should be able to do with any police authority. Although they drive around at all hours of the day with their lights flashing, I’ve never seen them pull over one car. I’ve never really noticed them around Aristides on the weekends, despite the thousands of people that are celebrating the arrival of the gorgeous weather. One thing they do for sure, however, is stare and turn their heads as I stand at the bus stop clearly not from these parts. And occasionally as I walk home from the grocery store in the dark, they slow down and drive next to me until I reach my door. I never know whether to feel protected or scared for my life. No police on horses here. And the dogs? Stray street dogs who just follow the officers around. Lets just say our canine force is not about to stop any crime.

cuentos de la cubana; aventuras en argentina.

Please forgive me for my lack of recent updates; I’ve been having a hard time figuring out how to share all of my cultural experiences with people who are thousands of miles away. I’ve also been incredibly busy and trying to soak up every bit of culture while it is right at my fingertips. I’ve accumulated a bunch of anecdotes of life here in Argentina and tried my best, to little avail I feel, to share them with you all here. Please, if nothing else just LAUGH. With me or at me, just laugh.

¿Sos colombiana? ¿Sos brasilera? ¿Sos mexicana? ¿Sos venezolana? ¿Sos puertorriqueña? ¿Sos cubana? I know my Spanish is progressing, although I am nowhere near perfectly fluent, because this is a relatively accurate account of the series of questions I get when I first meet someone. I am often told that I speak with some sort of rhythm; as if my words are dancing out of my mouth, something the Cuban’s as well as other Central American’s tend to do. When I finally give in and tell these new acquaintances that I am from the United States, questions usually follow along the lines of ‘Do you have Latino parents or relatives?’… ‘No? Well then where did you learn your Spanish?’… ‘Where did you get your Central American accent?’ Most are shocked when I explain that I have studied Spanish for about seven years and have learned a majority of what I know in an academic setting. With each and every colloquialism that I pick up, I’m getting closer to tricking people into thinking I’m Argentine.

NO ONE voted for the president, but somehow she got elected. I am living in Argentina during a pivotal time in their political history. On August 14th they held a set of obligatory primary elections (fines supposedly imposed for those who don’t vote). 2011 is the first year they have held these national primary elections which, according to the majority of Argentine’s who I have spoken to reveal how the actual elections will turn out. In order to avoid a runoff election in October, the winning candidate, most likely Christina, will have to hold at least 45 percent of the vote or 40 percent of the vote and 10 points lead over the closest contender. With Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner holding about fifty percent of the primary votes of the country this country will likely see another term with a woman in office; a somewhat unpopular woman, as far as everyone I’ve talked to is concerned. The likelihood of any of the other hundreds of political parties coming even close to 30 percent of the nations support would be almost impossible. My host mom made a comment the other day about Christina being in office to the effect of ‘I don’t know how she won because NO ONE voted for her’. It’s been really hard for me to grasp this concept; the fact that someone who received no votes can be elected. Somehow, in this country it has managed to happen. One thing is for sure, it had nothing to do with intoxicated voters; see below.

Don’t drink and vote. The first ever primary elections took place a couple of weeks ago, Sunday August 14th. From around 8pm on Saturday night until late Sunday night, stores are not allowed to sell alcohol. This happened again in the capital of Mendoza province, Ciudad de Mendoza, where I live this past Sunday as they held separate elections for the mayor of the city (even the locals don’t know why they have two different voting days). I had no idea that these mayoral elections were taking place and was confused when the beer display at the front of the store was wrapped in caution tape. It almost seems to me that they monitor drinking and voting here in Argentina more than they do drinking and driving – I saw a man drinking out of a liter of Quilmes at a stop sign as I was walking home one night last week.

There are no lines at stores in the United States, right? As we jumped behind four or five carts in line at the grocery store one day last week, my host mom asked me a question that caught me incredibly off guard. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself when she asked me, as to confirm something she had heard before or seen on TV or in the movies, oh so seriously if we had to wait in lines at stores in the United States. I had to try to explain to her that yes, indeed we too have to wait in lines, and yes, sometimes they are long, and no they do not just have unlimited cash registers to open up to avoid said lines.

Getting a job in the United States is based solely on what you know, not on who you know, right? I don’t know who brought this rumor to Argentina but I once found myself chuckling as my host mom and a couple of her friends tried to explain to me how important connections and contacts are as far as getting a job in Argentina is concerned. After they explained all of the politics of the job market, they asked me ever so seriously, “Pero no es así allá, en los Estados Unidos, ¿no?” Luckily I had prepared myself because I knew it was coming, “It’s not like that in the United States, is it? I tried to let them down as easily as I could and I explained that yes, it truly is, and I am afraid it always will be “Who you know, not what you know”.

Take a number and take a seat. And bring a book, a LONG one. I had to ‘run’ to the bank the other day to pay some fees in order to get my student visa. I needed to run some other errands downtown and my host mom was headed there too so we hopped on the bus together and after taking passport pictures, I headed to the bank. Thinking I could just hop in line and pay the 30 peso fee, I told her I would meet her back at her bank as soon as I was finished. I walked up to the counter to ask one of the bank staff if I could pay these taxes here at the bank. When he responded enthusiastically, “Si, los puede pagar acá” (Yes, you can pay them here), I for some reason thought that ‘acá’ was referring to this counter I was standing at. I thought I could pay these taxes right then and there. I thought, wow that was easy, I can’t believe I didn’t have to wait behind ANYONE in line. Little did I know his ‘acá was actually referring to the bank in general. He chuckled a little and then told me to grab a number and take a seat. As I looked at the waiting area which resembled an airport gate three minutes before boarding, I doubted that all of the people were waiting for the tellers just as I was. Then I looked at the number I had just pulled; it read 274. I held my breath and crossed my fingers then looked up at the panel on the wall at the front of the bank; it read 105. Optimistically hoping that there was an error with the panel or that they had to insert a new roll of numbers and we would magically skip to 200, I took a seat. After about 30 minutes, good people watching and a few good chuckles to myself, I quietly rose from my seat and RAN out the front doors of the Banco Nacional Argentina.

Don’t quit your day job. I’m taking an Improvisation class in the theater department at la Universidad Nacional de Cuyo. There are no words to describe this class and the fact that I’m clearly a misfit; except for maybe HYSTERICAL. Each week we have to present trabajos prácticos or short skits that we put on for the class. My argentine theater debut was a short skit that was to combine multiple artistic ‘languages’ as they are called; music, dance, theater, painting, etc. Our group decided to do a mixture of song and dance; through song and dance we identified each person’s individual interests and then came together at the end with a song and a short verse of poetry that united us all. Let’s just say I’m no actress, I’m no singer, and I’m no dancer. And although I’m having fun, my cheeks definitely got red when the professor said to our group, “Si hemos aprendido algo hoy, hemos aprendido que hay algunas personas quienes no actúan bien, otras quienes no cantan bien, y otras quienes no bailan bien. Lo que tenemos que hacer es improvisar con lo que tenemos y elegir y distribuir roles que nos sirve mejor”. [Translation: If we’ve learned anything today, we have learned that some people can’t act, some people can’t sing, and some people can’t dance. What we have to do is improvise with what we have and learn to choose roles for the members of our group that fit each person’s talents best.] Don’t expect to see my face on the big screen or to see me to be walking the red carpet ANYTIME soon.

Horoscopes tell all. Since I’ve been here in Argentina, I’ve been asked countless times what sign I am. I’m an Aires. Which means, according to my astrology savvy Argentine friends means ‘tengo mucho carácter’ which basically means I’m a lot to handle. As if I didn’t know that already. I can’t tell the number of times people have told me who I get along best with, who my astro-spirit clashes with and how I am as a person in different areas of my life. I wish I could fully believe everything they tell me, but for some reason I’m not fully convinced – probably the fact that I’m an Aires. It is interesting and slightly comical to see how people make assumptions and truly believe they can understand the ins and outs of the universe based simply on astrology.

I doubt many of you made it to the end of this extremely long and excessively divergent (you can blame my Aires spirit for that) post. However, if you did (bless your heart), before you go on with your day, take a second to find a joke in language other than your first. Send that puppy through Google translator and have a good laugh. As I have found, there is nothing more rewarding than laughing in a foreign language.

foto del día – 8.13.11

Thanks to the Arrayanes Instituto de Alta Gastronomia, I’m now officially trained (certificate available upon request) in preparing a few of Argentina’s most popular dishes. The menu, all prepared by myself and the other IFSA students, went as follows:

Appetizer: traditional Mendocianan empanadas filled with beef, hard boiled egg, and one black olive each and rolled to (im)perfection.

Main Course: Bife de Chorizo con chimichurri y papas al horno (Beef with chimichurri sause and baked french fries)

Dessert: Flan con Dulce de Leche

–A few of my classmates and I, waiting outside impatiently for our food to finish cooking inside the insitute!

foto del día – 8.6.11

A day by day calendar from 1997 of the incredibly popular comic strip character, Mafalda; Argentina’s very own Charlie Brown. We ran into this, a bunch of other fabulous antiques AND 50 cent empanadas in a cute part of town close to the bus station (after we basically sprinted there only to find out there wasn’t any more spots on the bus – we’ll try again tomorrow!)