Insufficiency of Time

Otra noche cuando quiero hacer todo
y me doy cuenta de que soy un ser limitado

I want to hug the Earth and the stars
but my arms won't extend wide enough
I want to visit every country and town
but my feet won't carry me far enough

I want to read every book and poem
but my eyes won't stay open for long enough
I want to listen to every song and bedtime story
but my ears won't absorb enough

I want to know everything about everything
but my memory won't retain enough
I want to meet everyone and shake their hands
but they will never be close enough

I want to do absolutely everything and nothing less
but silly Time, Time, Time; there is simply not enough.

I have searched
through supermarkets and outlet malls
in fields and on top of mountains
through rivers and cemeteries
in my pockets and in my desk drawer
but I can't seem to find any more Time.

Nancy Lundin 1:11 AM 4/25/11

Into the Lion's Den

I would like to start off this entry by saying that I have the most glorious host mom IN THE ARGENTINE UNIVERSE. One morning after minimal sleep I was having trouble distinguishing the words of her rapid, fused-together Spanish when she suddenly handed me a large sum of pesos. "¿Qué es esto?" I asked. And she re-explained that she was giving me some pesos now and the rest in a few days. I suddenly realized what was going on. I told her that the situation with the cleaning lady was completely not her fault and she should not be giving me any money for what happened, but she insisted and said that it happened under her roof, and this is the kind of person she is. She is way nicer to me than I deserve and is such a thoughtful, benevolent person. I hope we stay friends when I return to the States.

We had this past Thursday and Friday off due to Semana Santa for the Easter holidays. Argentina is a very Catholic country, so Easter is widely recognized. I took advantage of my time off classes by going to the Luján zoo, in a town about 2 hours away from Buenos Aires. Known for being one of the most dangerous zoos in the world, there is minimal caging of animals. It is wild and disorganized, kind of like Argentina. There are ducks and dogs running about and large enclosed areas with goats, horses, birds and ponies all living together. Highlights of my visit.. visiting a sleeping grown lion, petting a gigantic tiger, feeding an elephant, riding a camel, and playing with lion cubs. In regards to the grown lion and tiger, I have an uncomfortable feeling that they were under the influence of some sort of sedative, because I don't know how else they wouldn't immediately exhibit their man-eating instincts as soon as I entered the cage. However, one of the tigers was pacing purposefully when I was inside.. Let's just say I was intimidated. The lion cubs were my favorite part; they were playful and kept trying to eat my pants. I'm not sure whether or not they were given drugs; I am hoping not since they were domesticated with dogs, making them more docile and friendly toward people. They were adorable and I wanted to take one home. I'm not sure if Mumsy and Daddy would appreciate that very much, especially because of Dad's allergy to cats.

I was sitting in my Spanish Literature class the other day and I realized how lucky I am to be here, gaining knowledge and cultural experiences, building relationships, and broadening my world view, all in a different language. So what if I don't understand every word the professor is saying? I am being enriched just by sitting in the class. In my Psychology of the Personality class, I had a group oral presentation. I was so nervous for my speaking part, but it went really well. The professor congratulated me after class for the quality of my Spanish and for my deep analysis of the text. It made me very happy and gave me confidence about my school performance. While passing my mamá on the way to the kitchen, I found out based on our conversation about a certain procedure for the cat that Toto is in fact, a girl. Who knew?

I finally discovered the place I had been looking for.. A gaucho-esque mate bar two blocks from my apartment. It has wooden benches and a cozy atmosphere. There are organized music shows and also sporadic instances of customers casually playing acoustic guitars while eating. Argentines and Paraguayans young and old, all sitting around singing and enjoying each others company until 4 in the morning. They smiled while playing well known tunes and remembering their childhood. They made me want to dive into their culture and never come up for air. I want to learn everything about what Argentina has been through and what all their songs mean to them. At first glance, Buenos Aires just looked like high-end shops and pretty people, but they have a history just like everyone else, and I can't get enough of it. I want to pick up the guitar again and learn all their songs so I can sing and play with them. The food at this place is delicious; I had a Peruvian grain (called Quinoa) with squash, onions, and cheese. Excellent. It is also one of the few places I've found where you can order mate; usually it's just a friend and family tradition in the home. I bought a mate (the gourd from which you drink the tea) the other day, and now I am in the process of "curing" it so I can drink it with friends in my home! In order to cure it, you have to put the hot yerba in the gourd for 2-3 days and then it is ready to be used.

In the 20th century, 95% of the population of Argentina declared themselves Catholic. Currently, only 80% say they are Catholic. Of the remaining percentage, 20% are Protestant or Evangelical, and 10% are Agnostics, Jews, Muslims, Orthodox, Jehova's witness, Mormons, and a few other minor groups. Although there is such a high percentage of Catholics, many of them do not actively practice their religion (you'll find that anywhere). My host family is Atheist so we did not have an Easter celebration, but I went to mass with a few friends to experience an Argentine Easter tradition. We went to a small Catholic church and the service lasted less than an hour. I was slightly disappointed because the speakers did not seem to involve the audience very much in their sermons and readings. In the Methodist church that I grew up in, I always felt like the pastor and other church members did a wonderful job of making the members feel comfortable and close to what they were preaching, but during this service I just felt like they were at a great distance, reading a piece of paper in a monotone voice. Everyone seemed a bit detached. I enjoyed the Spanish hymns and was very excited to take communion before I realized that in Catholic churches, you can only do this if you are also Catholic. After the service, my friends and I went to brunch and I got a delicious waffle covered with so many calories.. Ricotta, dulce de leche, banana, nuts, and chocolate sauce. I had to take a recovery nap before I was hungry enough for dinner 8 hours later.

My Google search engine knows that I'm in Argentina and all the search results show up in Spanish! This is good practice but sometimes the results are more limited and I can't find exactly what I need. This coming week-end I am going to Calafate, a part of Patagonia in the Southern part of Argentina where I will see the glaciers! Time is flying by so fast.. I couldn't believe it when I looked at my calendar this morning and realized it was already the end of April. Now that I am in a routine with classes and traveling, everything is on fast-forward and I can't find the pause button. I have been talking to my friends back home a lot and although sometimes the transcendental part of me wants to expel technology from my life, I have to say, it has been a life-saver this trip. It is so comforting to talk to a good friend, my parents or my brother after a stressful day in Buenos Aires. It's unbelievable how fortunate I am to have such good friends at home, such a beautiful family to depend on, and fantastic new friends here that are going to be impossible to leave. Sometimes I feel so lucky that I want to cry and give a piece of my happiness to everyone in the world. I finally understand the significance of all the difficulties and stress I had to deal with upon entering this country. Now I am on top of the world and I wouldn't be anywhere near this peak of satisfaction if it hadn't been for the struggle. It's not easy now either, but it's beautiful. I'm starting to see the disorganization of Argentina as more of a sense of humor. It's so much easier to accept and cozy up to a culture rather than try to mold it to your own cultural standards. Buenos Aires, let's be friends.

Spaghetti Hockey Supernova

The purpose of this title is to prepare you for the randomness of this blog entry.

Dulce de leche (Argentina's famous caramel dip) is quite a versatile food product.. 
But everything has its limitations.

Dulce de leche with toast - Sí
Dulce de leche with cookies - Sí
Dulce de leche with apples - Sí
Dulce de leche with bananas - Sí
Dulce de leche with pretzels - Sí
Dulce de leche with media lunas - ¡Claro que sí!
Dulce de leche with pears - No, weird consistency
Dulce de leche with plums - No, my condolences
Dulce de leche with peanut butter sandwiches - No, overwhelmingly sweet
Dulce de leche with lettuce and tomato - What was I thinking?

Brief but informative descriptions of all the doormen in my building:

*Luis - Cheery thin man with a mustache who is always happy to see me. Taking English classes. Gives me theatre production recommendations and lends me his Argentine movies.

*Roberto - Surprised that I have never thrown a punch, offered to give me defense lessons. One of my first good friends in Buenos Aires. The only doorman that has seen me cry.

*Antonio - Knew my name before I knew who he was. Pleasant and proper. Man of few words. Large glasses that cover the majority of his face. Reminds me of Waldo from Where’s Waldo?

*Juan - Very nice with smiley eyes. Neither of us can understand each other so we generally stick to pleasantries. He still asks me where I’m from sometimes.

*Cañite - Tells me the weather conditions every day before I leave the building. Last time I tried to have a conversation with him, I asked him if he knew where to find an internet café, and he told me where to find the nearest laundromat.

*Mario - A plump jolly man from Uruguay. He looks like he would give good hugs but I wonder if that would be awkward. We share laughs and he likes meeting my friends who I bring over to the apartment.

Finalized class schedule in Argentina:

*Literatura Española Contemporánea (Contemporary Spanish Literature)
*Psicología de la Personalidad (Psychology of the Personality)
*Estado y Religión en América Latina (State and Religion in Latin America)
*Música Urbana Popular en Argentina (Popular Urban Music in Argentina)
*Estructuración de la Subjetividad (Structure of Subjectivity)

..If I saw this schedule sitting on a table, I would have NO idea what this person’s life goals were, let alone their major.

As of this past Tuesday, my class schedule is finally fixed. I found it odd that I had my Madison Fall schedule set before this semester's in Argentina. I also find it strange that my friends in the States have less than a month left before school is out, while I do not have my last final exam until July.

Random closing quote:

"We're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all."
-The Breakfast Club

Vacation from my Vacation

My parents went to Iguazú Falls Tuesday and Wednesday; the Falls looked excellent from the pictures and I'm sure even those did not do them justice. Iguazú will probably be my last big trip while in Argentina since it is in the North, meaning it is warm there year-round (since we are on the Southern hemisphere). In Buenos Aires, it will be getting colder from here on out. My parents and I had a fun last few meals together and then they went off to Colonia, Uruguay for the day and then back to the States. I wanted to go to Colonia with them since I enjoyed my first visit so much, but I am in the middle of my residency process and am not allowed to leave the country until it is finished :( I had a lovely time seeing them and it seemed like they had a fun time even though they were unfortunately exposed to a few of the rough parts of South America during their short visit.

This week-end I took a trip to Rosario to see Agustín, who I met in Mendoza. As I was leaving my building, one of the doormen, Roberto, gave me safety tips for when I was near the bus terminal station. He seemed very surprised when I told him that I have never had to punch someone before, and that I have never taken a defense class. He is an instructor and offered to give me lessons. The bus ride was 4 hours and I had not slept the night before because I was writing letters, so I did not have a problem sleeping through most of the ride. I woke up a few times and was completely surrounded by green grass and crop fields. There were no big buildings, and every couple miles I saw a fruit stand or a parrilla. There were horses grazing, a million different kinds of trees, and small colorful houses. I had trouble believing I was in the same country that I have been living for the past 2 months. The rest of the country that is not Buenos Aires is referred to as the "Interior", so it seems that they are looked at as completely separate regions sometimes. I have seen a billboard with a picture of two government leaders shaking hands, one from Buenos Aires and one from the provinces, reassuring the public that they are one country, one entity.

When I got to Rosario, Agustín was waiting for me at the terminal. I was very grateful for this since I had no idea where I was and I wasn't sure if all the trees would make good week-end friends. It was so great to see him again since it had been more than a month since Mendoza. We went to a restaurant that was the same style as the Hard Rock Café in Chicago; there were guitars on the walls, lots of people, and each seat had a famous musician on it. We sat near the faces of John Lennon and George Harrison since we both love The Beatles (but who doesn't?). I met his sister, Manuela, who was just getting back from her English class. I had my first real introduction to mate, the herb tea-like substance that I always see students drinking in class and vendors drinking on the street. I loved it! You fill a gourd-like cup up half-way with the herb, and then add boiling water a bit at a time and then drink it with a metal straw called a bombilla. Once you drink all the water, you refill it and then pass it to the next person. You can refill the gourd 10-20 times before the yerba starts losing its taste. It is a very family and friend-oriented tradition. I am going to buy some soon and then become a mate addict like a true porteña.

We walked around the río (river) Paraná and he showed me where he keeps his canoe. When he isn't as busy with college and his job, he likes to row around the island for hours and just hang out with nature. He used to play basketball on a team and fútbol with his friends all the time but now life is so busy. There are so many things that I used to have time for that I don't anymore. Like running on a Cross Country team, playing night games with the kids on my block, going to Darcy Lynn's diner so often that I achieved BFF status with all the waitresses.. But fun new things have replaced these fun old things. You can't have everything happy in your life all the time if there are new happy things to take their place. That's something I definitely have to internalize. Sometimes I want everything enjoyable from my past and everything in my present to be happening at the same time!

Agustín showed me the Rosario Central fútbol field where the famous game between Argentina and Brazil took place, and also the plaza in San Lorenzo (the small town outside Rosario where Agustín lives) where General San Martín and Juan Bautista Cabral fought for Argentina. San Martín's horse was mortally wounded and fell on top of him, so Cabral jumped in front of San Martín to save his life, making him a hero and leaving the General free to liberate the Argentines. Now two parallel streets are named after San Martín and Cabral to commemorate this important event in Argentina. He told me about his thoughts on the current president, Cristina Kirchner and the history of Ernesto "Che" Guevara, who was born in Rosario and traveled all over Latin America fighting for what he thought was right. We got some really good pasta and received the fastest service I have yet experienced in Argentina (5-10 minutes). We went to the movies and the majority of them were in English. I decided that instead of seeing Ashton Kutcher on the big screen with Spanish subtitles, I wanted to see the real thing. We saw "Cuento Chino", which took place in Buenos Aires and had Argentina's most famous actor, Ricardo Darín, as the protagonist. The previews were all in English and I could tell how common it was to have English movies since the girl next to me had to ask me if the movie was going to be in Spanish. I somehow managed to understand almost every word; I'm not sure if they were talking very clearly or if I just don't realize how much my Spanish has improved. Also, I think speaking only Spanish with Agustín for the past two days really put my mind in the Castellano mindset. Except for one time, I always laughed when the rest of the audience did, so I know I was understanding all of the jokes. As for that one time.. I might just have a weird sense of humor. Small kids in back of me were laughing boisterously at the sad parts and chucking popcorn at my head, but they stopped after Agustín, a father, and I all yelled at them.

After some delicious Rosarian ice cream, we went to see Monumento Históricio Nacional a la Bandera (the national historical monument of the flag). This is where Manuel Belgrano first held up the Argentine flag on the shore of río Paraná. It was glowing blue in the nighttime and lit up the whole area. When looked at from a certain angle, you can tell that it forms a gigantic boat when combined with the ground. On the monument, there were statues of angels and generals and engravings of the Argentine flag. We saw a girl on the monument steps wearing a beautiful white dress who was too young to be getting married. It was her quinceñera, a Latin American coming of age celebration for girls when they turn 15. We went back to his house and had a magnificent music exchange. For a few hours, we listened to his favorite bands (Divididos, Andrés Calamaro, Los Piojos, Los Fabulosos Cadillacs), and I introduced him to The Fratellis, The Booze (an obscure Georgian band), Regina Spektor, and Green Day (which he was already familiar with). It was fascinating to sit there and listen to him talk about a Dividos song and pause it after every lyric to explain his personal thoughts on the significance of the song's metaphors. My friend Aaron told me once that he thinks there are people who focus more on music and people who focus more on lyrics. I think I am more of a music person; I appreciate the sensation evoked from the combination of the instruments, vocals, and lyrics of a song that I would not experience if I was not listening to that particular music and that particular time. I feel like I would appreciate the songs even more if I start paying attention to the meanings of the lyrics. It seems like when I ask people here what their favorite bands are, they always give me a list that includes at least half North American bands (or English-speaking) and the other half Latin-American. My friend from class Guillermo explained to me that the reason there is so much English-speaking influence in the Argentine stores, bands, and clothes is because this is seen as cool or fashionable. I just wish there were more Argentine movies in the theaters and Argentine songs in the stores. This lack of personal identity makes it seem like they are proud of their country when compared with the rest of Latin America, but not when it is compared to the United States.

After another morning of mate and muffins, it was time to leave this beautiful escape from classes and homework. Even though I wasn't writing my papers or reading my novels, I feel like I got a lot of real life Spanish practice while having the opportunity to spend time with an intelligent, funny and compassionate person. I am starting to get used to sarcasm in Spanish and learning how to joke around. Sometimes I even forget we spoke different original languages. Of course he lives 4 hours away from where I'm living for the next 3 months and 14 hours away (by plane) from where I will be after that. That's just how life works, I guess. The lady sitting next to me on the bus saw us waving goodbye, and then told me after a brief explanation that I was in "una situación rara" (a weird situation), to be from the US, studying abroad in Buenos Aires, having met someone who I care about in Mendoza who lives in Rosario. I have to admit, she has a point.

Sneezes Come in Threes and So Do Thoughts

1) When people buy soda, juice or water bottles at kiosks, they always drink their beverages with straws! Is that because everything tastes better with a straw or for some mysterious magical reason?

2) The clothes in many shops do not seem to have marked sizes, making it difficult to find the clothing that I want in the size that I want. Everything should be titled One Size Fits Small.

3) There are many dog walkers here that sometimes walk up to 15 dogs at a time! It is so silly and happy to watch.

Double Life

My parents arrived in Buenos Aires at 8:30 Saturday morning after a long night of delayed flights and lack of sleep. I was impressed that they were able to stay awake long enough to eat breakfast with me! Unfortunately, they were exposed to some Argentine stress moments after they landed. The cab driver at the airport was very mean and aggressive and forced them to pay 400 pesos (100 dollars) for the cab ride. They knew this wasn't right and tried to yell back, but he was extremely forceful and would not take no for an answer. They gave him 400 pesos and then he showed them a 100 peso bill and 3 10's, and insisted that they had ripped him off. This time they did not cave and my mother refused to believe his trickery. After a lot more confusion and bitterness they managed to get 100 pesos back, but they still payed 3x more than they needed to. It seems as though Argentina likes to show tourists right off the bat that they are not in Kansas anymore.

They brought me peanut butter, which makes me very happy since it is such a rare commodity here. Let's see how long 2 jars will last me! Saturday night was a special dinner - American parents meet Argentine mamá and sister. We went to a pleasant restaurant near my apartment that used to be a pharmacy (some of the shelves are still in place). I drank wine with my parents for the first time, and we laughed and talked over pizza and pasta. I thought it was going to be a challenge translating between English and Spanish, but my mamá and Ana Lucía actually speak very good English! I am going to have to watch what I say over skype :) They had no problem understanding and talking with my parents, and it was really interesting hearing them speak since we have only ever communicated in Spanish. Mamá has a degree in economics and my parents enjoyed asking her all kinds of questions about the Argentine economy and government.

On Sunday afternoon, I went back to the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes with my parents. I was excited to see the European art on the first floor that I didn't have a chance to see last time. Unfortunately, a lot of it was blocked off due to construction. It made me very sad that I was not able to see Francisco de Goya's paintings, since I did a research paper on him first semester and would love to see his work. I'll have to visit Museo del Prado in Spain one day to see his collection of the "black paintings." These are dark paintings of disfigured, distorted, and shocking images that he painted on the walls of his isolated house and never intended anyone to see. I did get to see Jackson Pollock's "Shooting Star", which looked like crazy spider web canoe fireworks, and also works by Pablo Picasso, Diego Rivera, Claude Monet, and the Guerrico collection. Then I re-visited the Argentine art, which I liked a lot better. My favorite works that I saw were by Antonio Berni, Manuel Espinoza, Xul Soler, and Angel Della Valle. After the art museum, we went to the Recoleta cemetery. It was a whole city block filled with tombs, memorials, and shrines. A lot of black and gray, pretty devoid of color aside from the brightly colored flowers on the door of Evita Perón's tomb. There were many historical figures buried there that I didn't know, but recognized their names from street names and subway stops.

I introduced my parents to Argentine ice cream and then later we went out to dinner with Sara, the daughter of one of my mom's best friends from childhood. She is in the IFSA program with me; we had a lot of fun ranting about our homework and classes among other things. We enjoyed a relaxing 3 hour dinner until 11:30. I have had some very good pasta while I've been here and the pastries are good if you're into that sort of thing, but other than that and the beef (so I've heard), I wouldn't say the food here is extremely distinctive from the United States. I wonder if it's much different when you get out of the big city.

For a month now I have been randomly missing 100 pesos on certain occasions and not knowing where the money went. I assumed I had spent more than I thought or had lost it somehow. After I continued noticing my unexplained lack of money, I started to worry. I began to write down how much I had in the envelope that I hide inside a book in my desk. Even after I did that, it kept happening. I once again attributed it to my carelessness and forgetfulness, not wanting to make stereotypical assumptions about the other people with the key to our apartment. However, yesterday morning I counted exactly how many pesos I had in the envelope before I left for breakfast with my parents, and then counted exactly how many I had when I returned an hour later. I was 100 pesos short, and the cleaning lady was in the other room scrubbing the floor. I felt so sad and so shocked but had no other explanation. She had been so sweet to me and has been working for mamá for a year. I was too scared to confront her and also didn't want her to know that I knew because I felt like it would make my situation more complicated when I told mamá later. So I left the envelope in the book and then left the house. When I came back later, another 100 pesos was gone and the earring that I had put on top of the book was moved over. I kind of set myself up to be stolen from again, but I assumed she wouldn't steal more than 100 pesos in a day to make sure I didn't notice. But as my dad later told me, "stop thinking you know how people's minds work, because you have too much faith in people." I know she needs money more than I do and I know this does not make her a bad person, but I don't think that makes this right. I just feel overwhelmingly unsafe with my belongings. I can't take my money on the street because that's unsafe, and now I can't even keep my money at home. I suppose that I need to start assuming that everyone is always out to take advantage of me and then never give them that opportunity. I would not prefer to adopt such an outlook, but it seems like the most practical one to have right now.

I feel like I'm living a paradox. While this country is giving me different perspectives, a new language and wonderful people, it is simultaneously taking my money, my sense of security, and most importantly, my ability to trust in humanity. It's making a stronger person and at the same time weakening my spirit and robbing me of all my energy. How do people live like this? I guess it's like what they say about blind people; if you are born without vision, or in this case, born into a certain culture, you have nothing else for comparison. It's the only reality you know. I am meeting great people and doing great things but I have a feeling that above everything, this trip is making me appreciate the United States more than I ever have before.

When I was very upset yesterday after my discovery, I went to pick up my laundry and then realized that I didn't bring my money. When I tried to explain that I would come back later to the nice lady Carolina, I burst into tears and she sat me down and gave me a hug and words of consolation. When I went back to get my laundry today, she wouldn't let me pay for it. She told me that she wants to show me that not all of Argentina is bad. It reminded me of the nice couple that comforted me and my friend Whitney after the kiosk vendor's harsh sarcasm our second week here. While crime and sneakiness undoubtedly make up a part of this culture, they do not dominate it. There are still friendly people who really care. I think I have to start putting things in perspective and realizing that despite all of these occurrences that were not previously in my personal life paradigm, I am an extremely lucky individual and am just going through the process of becoming un-sheltered and more aware.

Café Sin Azúcar and a Psychiatrist

Yesterday my friend Gabi and I were walking down the sunny streets of Palermo looking for a place to eat lunch and we stopped to look at a menu at a diner near my apartment. We decided to continue on our search, but an old man demanded to know where we were from as we began to walk away. We told him we were from the United States, and he insisted on buying us coffee. And well, what can I say? It was quite an experience. He talked a bit disjointedly and I couldn't tell if he was slightly intoxicated, an oddball, or just overly excited. He claimed to be a psychiatrist who enjoyed to tango, and even offered to tango with us right there. I don't think we were quite ready for that. His name was Fernando and smiled a lot with big teeth while smoking a cigarette. Everyone seems to be surprised when I reply that I don't have a lighter on me. Smoking is very common here. Later in the conversation I said Fernando and he gave me a big kiss on the cheek because he was so excited that I remembered his name. Mucho gusto, Señor!

Attempt #1 at attending a tango class.. It ended up being canceled without any sort of notification to its participants. Why am I not surprised?

My host mamá and I have been getting along beautifully. I bought her flowers and she was so happy! She buys me granola cereal that I really like and lets me eat fruit and yogurt in the house. Sometimes she surprises me with alfajores and dulce de leche and invites me to eat with her family when they come over. I knew that we had a wonderful relationship, but I didn't realize that this is not the norm with host families here. I bet there are a lot of great living arrangements, but I have heard about some less pleasant ones from a few friends. Some of the host moms look at their host mom duties as strictly business. They do not go out of their way to make their students happy; for them it is just a job. I am very thankful that I got so lucky to have such a compassionate caretaker. And my thought that I would be happier with a big family always milling about the house has definitely been corrected. Of course that could be fun too but I really think it's more about the personal relationships you develop rather than the quantity of people. My mamá is treating me like a very special person in her life and I appreciate her so much. One of her choir concerts is during one of my classes, but I really want to try and make it to the next one. That would be awesome to see her perform after always hearing about her rehearsals. I think I would enjoy being a host mom someday :)

Last night we had dinner with Ana Lucía, my host sister. I think I relate to her better than my other host siblings because she's younger and isn't married with kids yet. I am taking a Popular Urban Music in Argentina class and I have to listen to music from all the decades of rock for homework. She looked at the bands that I have to listen to and told me a lot about the band members, their popularity level, and some of her favorites. She even showed me YouTube videos of some of the songs. What a fun sister. I'm really glad I'm taking this class; I received music from the 60's til the present of various Argentine bands. I think this is a really good way to connect to the culture. The theme of this class is popular music, but it also has a Castellano (Spanish) component where we strive to improve our grammar, conversational skills, etc. because it is a class through IFSA, my exchange program. We have to read four classic Argentine novels, and I just started one called Boquitas Pintadas by Manuel Puig. As I was reading, I realized that it didn't matter that I didn't know every Spanish word in the dictionary.. I was comprehending what was going on and forgot that it wasn't in my language! It was an amazing feeling and I realized that I have missed reading novels. My psychology texts are really great because of all their interesting information about how humans function, but I now remember why I am majoring in English and Spanish literature. There is something so special and transcendental about reading a novel that is entirely different from reading about studies and research. I felt like a part of the protagonist Nené's conscience as she wrote letters to the mother of her secret lover who died.. I felt sad when she felt sad, and scared when she felt scared. I've missed this level of connecting with myself. I am trying two more classes tomorrow (yes, still more classes), and then after this week I will hopefully have my schedule finalized. I am trying an Argentine literature class and a Spanish literature class. Hopefully I will be able to comprehend and enjoy one of them so that I can read more books.

I talked to my Structure of Subjectivity teacher today and it's amazing how much my comprehension has improved. I can even laugh at her jokes! It feels loads better to be on the same page as the other students. Plus, the class is based on Freud and the texts are translated from German, so it is even difficult for Spanish-speakers to understand the structure and content of the translations. The professor read a paragraph aloud and one student said "Qué?!" ("What?!") It made me chuckle.

I felt genuinely happy today. I felt comfortable walking down the bustling streets of Buenos Aires. Like I belonged. Not to say I know my way around.. I have a feeling that I am going to get lost until the day I leave. It's such a big city with so many parts that I haven't yet ventured to. But at least I learn from getting lost, and it's not as stressful of a situation as it used to be. Today I was super confused because I got off the subway and was all of a sudden near two streets that shouldn't have been there.. And then I realized that there are two subway stations on two different lines that have the same name. Gotcha. But I feel like being lost in a city is better than being lost in the country, because there are people willing to help, whereas I doubt cows are good at explaining their whereabouts.

I drank café (coffee) for the first time without azúcar (sugar) today! And I actually enjoyed it. I was impressed with myself, since I didn't drink coffee before I came to this country. I still need milk in it, but in time I will adapt. Baby steps. I love media lunas! They are sweet croissants, and they consume them like water here. Every restaurant has them, and they are the perfect snack to eat around 4 or 5 to last you til a 9 or 10 o'clock dinner. My parents are visiting this week-end and I am so excited to see them! It will be weird showing them around instead of vice versa, but it will be fun. Also, I finally get to be someone's translator :) I have a wonderful family and wonderful new friends and wonderful old friends. I am lucky and I know it so I will clap my hands.

Paz y Fútbol

On Friday night, I had an empanada dinner at my friend Whitney's apartment while her host parents were at a party. It was super relaxed and there were also plums. I like having friends. Later we met up a bunch of chums and went bowling. I love doing this because it is such a social sport; it's really more just like hanging out while throwing things at other things. Everyone is always really excited and in a good mood and the more the merrier. It reminds me of other fun bowling times with my Indian Princess tribe and my dad when I was little, and when I went with Wisconsin friends in Milwaukee.

The next afternoon, I met up with a group of kids from the IFSA program and we helped a woman's rights organization paint a mural in a run-down neighborhood to try to bring hope and cheer to its inhabitants. It was a bit disorganized and there was still graffiti all over the walls when we got there, but they painted primer over it and then we started to paint. The paint was a bit watery and I really don't know if it's going to withstand a few rain showers.. But fingers crossed, I suppose. It was a really nice time, and there were kids from the barrio there helping us out. It was extraordinarily hot standing in the scorching sun for hours on end, but it was worth it. We all painted our own depictions of paz (peace), igualdad (equality), and un futuro mejor (a better future). My friend Mark painted a big tree and then the kids helped him make leaves by painting their hands and placing them on the branches on the wall. I painted a peace sign with "Imagine" in Spanish written in the middle, basing my drawing off the Strawberry Fields John Lennon memorial in New York.

Today was another family meal, lunch with María Sol, my host sister who I have already met, her husband Pablo and their daughter Juanita, the grandparents, and then also Sebastian (my host brother), his wife Vicky, and their son Lucas. The number of people present was intimidating, but it felt nice being in a house full of people again. I could understand my host grandfather a bit better this time, and we talked about dogs and places we've visited. Vicky and I talked over doing dishes about her job as an English teacher. She is fluent but will not speak to me in English, which I appreciate since I have to improve my Spanish. The conversations with everyone at the dinner table are still difficult for me to follow, but hopefully by the end of my trip I will be able to understand everything and make important contributions to the conversations. Some days I feel competent at Spanish and other days I feel like it's a language completely new to me. I think I have to do a better job at immersing myself in it, which seems silly since I'm in a country that only speaks Spanish. However, a lot of my friends that I have made in the exchange program prefer to speak English since it is easier to communicate ideas, and this makes me practice less. I guess it's one of those things that you have to really really want to do.

Just a few hours ago I had the opportunity to play fútbol (soccer) with Argentines! It was really fun and a good workout.. But I realized that it didn't help that I haven't played since grade school recess. I need to amp up my game and practice more often. The Argentines were really nice anyway and passed me the ball even though that was obviously not an effective way to win. I shall embark on Mission Impossible: to score a goal in a fútbol game before I leave.

Breakdance in BA

It is 5:54 AM and I am so tired I can't feel my face! Good sign. It's weird to think that I showered at this time yesterday to wake up, and I just showered now to go to sleep. Even though they use the 24 hour clock here, 24 hour hours isn't enough to live the Argentine lifestyle. Sleep sleepy empanada! sleepy sandwich Tupperware! sleepy I just ate a yogurt! Tango the dog enjoys stealing my bathing suit when it's hanging on my hamper. Maybe it's the brightly colored stripes. Or maybe he thinks it would SUIT him. Hahaha, get it? My condolences, my drowsiness is reaching its peak. Sometimes my mamá is speaking Spanish when I'm not in the room and I can't tell if she's talking on the phone, to the dog or cat, or to me. She's in a choir and sometimes she sings around the house, and she has a beautiful voice. I was in a locutorio (internet café/printing store) the other day and as I was trying to figure out where to put my flash drive in the computer (sometimes it's in the way back), the lady next to me introduced herself. Her name is Virginia and she told me that she provides accommodations for visitors in her home. So if anyone decides to come to Buenos Aires on a whim, let me know and we can tell Virginia!

After hearing so much about them, I finally made it to my first boliche (club) in Buenos Aires. It was a hip-hop club, and it was ridiculous. There was smoke all over the place, constantly flashing strobe lights, ground-shaking music, and a crack-ton of people.  Buenos Aires is so friendly! Everyone was smiley and just hoping for a fun night with friends and new people. I witnessed excessive amounts of dreadlocks and gangster hats at the club, and the famous signature rat tail hairstyles. Everyone was intensely squeezed together on the dance floor and I felt as though people with claustrophobia or epilepsy would have difficulties with the atmosphere. Music was loud loud loud - I still can’t hear anything. When everyone is so densely compacted, you can't help but be completely immersed in the radiation of excited energy and just let yourself dance with the beat until you forget all your problems and time doesn't exist. I feel like the song "More Than Alive" by The Ready Set accurately describes my feelings about this situation:

"You go for seconds and days
I live for moments to say
That I may never get a second chance
Don't throw it away
Living for dollars and dimes
They'll all diminish in time
Oh let the motion come crashing like a plane from the sky
...
I'm running through a stop sign
Cuttin' out the break lights
I don't want to slow slow slow slow down down
I'm running through a stop sign
Living so it feels right
I don't want to slow slow slow slow down down
Don't wanna slow it down."

At the boliche, I saw the coolest breakdance battle I have ever seen in my life. I just stood awestruck as I watched these crazy youth flip, balance on their heads, and move their bodies like they were being wonderfully and creatively attacked. They never lost their balance, or if they did, it was impossible to tell. A smaller woman in a green shirt was the best. She looked like she was flying while on the ground. How does that even make sense? As they tried to one-up each other and impress the crowd with their best tricks, you could feel the competitive heat between them. Afterward, they all hugged and kissed like best friends. Buenos Aires sure knows how to have a good time.

There is so much going on that I need a calendar 10 times bigger than me! Goals for this week-end:
*Go running in a park
*Help paint a mural
*Go bowling
*Play soccer with Argentines
*Meet more of my host family
*Smile a lot and give many hugs

I just put toothpaste on my toothbrush without noticing, so.. Time for bed.