Two Homes and One Heart

I am very much a list writer and I think that says a lot about my personality. I never want to miss out on anything and I think every little detail is important. I also have a shoddy memory, so my habit of list writing comes in handy for this reason, too. Lists make me feel more secure and I enjoy the feeling of accomplishment that overwhelms my being when I cross off items (maybe that's a bit melodramatic). Sometimes when I am feeling unproductive, I add items that I have already done just so I can cross them off. Maybe that's pushing the purpose of a to-do list, but I am okay with that. I made a list of things that I want to do before I leave Argentina. I do not know if I will accomplish everything, but maybe I will accomplish more than if I hadn't written a list at all. Anyway, here are some of my last Latin American ambitions:

*Tour the Casa Rosada - the government house in Buenos Aires where President Cristina Kirchner lives. I hear that you can take pictures at the balcony where Evita Perón gave her famous speech.

*Attend more tango classes, and maybe even a salsa class! What place to learn Latin dance other than Latin America?

*Go to barrios in Buenos Aires that I haven't already been to. In particular: La Boca, where there are really colorful houses and street fairs; Once, where they sell a million products of sketchy quality for a miniscule price; Olivos.. I don't know what's exciting about this barrio, but maybe I will find out.

*Go to the Xul Soler museum (a famous artist) and Museo de la Memoria in Belgrano. I hear they both "valen la pena ir" (are worth going to).

*Visit the Cementerio Chacarita (Chacarita Cemetery); I hear it's bigger and cooler than the Recoleta Cemetery and there are lots of tombs of famous dead people of which I would be familiar.

*Go on a graffiti tour.

*Find out if the Beatles museum really exists and if so; get on that.

*Visit Salta and Jujuy in the far North of Argentina. See the land covered in salt and the Seven Colored Mountain!

*Drink mate with amigos.

*Read Spanish and Argentine literature and learn more about Argentine history.

*Watch Argentine movies such as: Nueve reinas, El secreto de sus ojos, Luna de Avellaneda, El tiempo de valientes, el Hijo de la novia.

*Try to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II. I cannot believe I am missing the last midnight showing in the US! I've gone to all the rest of them. In costume. I guess being in Argentina is the best excuse I can think of for not going; nonetheless, I am distressed. I will try to see it here or right when I get back.

*Make one last effort to study hard for the Psychology of the Personality oral exam next Wednesday. It seems as though studying will be the last thing I want to do with all of these other exciting ambitions..

*See as many friends from the US and Argentina as possible before leaving.

*Attempt to find a massive quantity of alfajores to bring home and share the happiness.

Well that's all, folks! Who's going to keep me accountable?

One last note: After giving my final presentation in my IFSA Argentine music class yesterday, we all sat around and talked until time ran out. Everyone talked about when they were going back to the States and what plans they had for the summer. One boy Craig piped up and said he wouldn't be going back. We asked him if he was planning on staying a THIRD semester in Buenos Aires (he had already stayed a year), and he said that he had decided to stay forever. That's right. FOREVER. He decided to finish his schooling at the universities here and then find a job, form a family, and qué sé yo (who knows). This shocked me and I forgot that people actually decide things like that sometimes. I think the reason it came as such a surprise to me is because I can't imagine staying here forever. That's not true; I guess I can imagine it and I have, because it's hard not to imagine what your life would be like anywhere that you have grown to know and love. However, I also know and love the United States. Much more than the country itself, I love my friends and family. I have an extreme unbreakable tie to them and while living in Argentina or another Latin American country sounds exhilarating, I can't bear the thought of leaving everyone I love forever. For a while I wondered if this meant that my experience in Argentina wasn't as fulfilling as his, but then I rethought this notion. I talked to him after class and realized that, like so many other things, it's all about the comparisons you make. He was not happy with his life at home and never really felt comfortable or like he could freely be himself, and here he has found happiness. He said "and that's what it's all about, right?" He is absolutely right. I have found happiness with my friends and family at home and also happiness here, but I feel an internal pull to go back. Craig has finally found somewhere that has embraced him with open arms, and he is taking this magical opportunity that was presented to him to better his life. I am so delighted for him and also realize how lucky I am to love my life back home. But who says you can't have two homes? "Home is where the heart is" and my heart is here now, too. And I know it will still be here, embedded in all the new places and faces that I have grown attached to, when I come back to visit in the future :)

¡Qué quilombo!

One of my favorite things about Argentines is that almost every one of them that I have talked to for more than five minutes has said to me, "Cualquier cosa, avisame." Translation: Anything you need, let me know. Most people seem to genuinely care about me and want me to have a worthwhile and lovely experience in their home country. I went to the gym Friday to make up for my lack of attendance during my stressful week, and for the first time, I ran into someone I knew. At first I thought she was a trainer since she had a clipboard, and I assumed that she was about to tell me that I was riding the stationary bike incorrectly or something absurd like that. Then I realized that she looked extremely familiar and was from one of my classes, but I couldn't remember which. She kissed my cheek in greeting even though I was grosser and sweatier than everyone else in the gym; how sweet! After a few minutes of talking I realized that she was in my Freud class because she started referencing the final this week. She told me to let her know if I needed anything, and we made plans to go to an exercise class the next day. Her name is Maite, which makes me think of mate. Maybe someday I will drink mate with Maite.

While on the topic of the generosity of porteños.. Most of them that I have talked to have asked me what I like about the people of Buenos Aires. In their opinion, they are all in a hurry and mean to people they don't know. I have not found this to be the general truth of my experience here and I wonder why it differs. Perhaps once they find out that I am a foreigner, they are a lot more interested in making me feel at home, whereas everyone else just assumes that no one has time for them, so they all treat each other with indifference. My friend Valeria who I met in Spanglish is back from Formosa and her mother is better :) We went on our usual Starbucks date and I had fun talking with the cashier who called my hometown Chicago "la ciudad de los vientos" (The Windy City). I thought he was pretty cute and told Valeria in a slightly giggly voice, but she immediately pointed out that there was a good chance that he was gay. Go figure. I too often have crushes on boys that don't prefer my gender. I told Valeria that I was not able to stay in my host mom's house after the 9th of July because that is when the program officially ends and she has to prepare for her next study abroad student. This leaves me two weeks without a fixed home. I was planning on living in a hostel since they are cheap, but wasn't over the moon about the idea. Valeria piped up right away and offered up lodgings in her apartment. I really appreciated her offer and am very excited about living with her for 10 days. She has become one of my very good friends and it will be like a slumber party every night!

I am trying to make an effort to see friends from the program that I haven't seen in a while because things are really winding down. I'm scared that certain people are going to leave before we have a chance to say goodbye. Since they're from all over the US, there's not a huge change I am going to see them often in the future, but maybe they will be the excuse I need to visit Pennsylvania or Houston. On Friday night I went to a bar called Jobs and lost horribly at Checkers against a friend. I guess I just don't have strategy. As I was walking home, I realized that there are certain security procedures that I just do by second nature now. For example, I usually keep my phone and keys in my pockets and my money in my shirt in case my purse gets robbed. I am glad that I have gained street smarts but I do not like that I have to suspect everyone on the street as someone who might try to steal from me or jump me. Hopefully this people paranoia won't last when I go back to the States.

On Saturday I went to a full body workout class at the gym with Maite.. and man did I get owned. It was really exciting and just like in the videos, but it definitely caused me pain. We did a lot of kick boxing moves and jumping up and down to fast-paced music; unfortunately there was a mirror across the whole front wall so everyone could see my uncoordinated attempts at following along. Then we did arm weights against the wall, a strenuous abdominal workout, and then squats. These were the hardest. I thought I was going to pass out and everyone else looked like it was the easiest thing in the world! I guess this was my first class whereas everyone else probably goes regularly, but that didn't lessen my feeling that I was a blob who was behind on her exercises. We were definitely working muscles that I am not used to using. After this intense session, I went back to La Viruta, the milonga from a few weeks ago. I went to the intermediate tango class instead of beginner and I learned a lot more. When we actually got to the free dancing part, it became interesting. There are so many different levels of dancers at a milonga and I had different experiences with each person I danced with. Some of them were quite good at teaching me and guiding me, while others just expected me to know all the steps and then dismissed me after a struggle. There were two people that I meshed really well with and I felt very accomplished and happy with my improvement after we danced; I actually felt like a graceful and rather seductive tango ballerina! I think the main thing that I have to work on is focusing less on the particular steps and the order of the steps that I learn during lessons and more on communication between partners and realizing what feels natural.

I decided that I am going to marry my cat, Toto. He always loves me and wants to cuddle. He is there for me when I am stressed and always puts me in a better mood. Does anyone object?

I went to a show called "Fuerza Bruta" (Brute Force) on Sunday night, and it was pretty awesome. My friends Sarah and Enrique and I were in the section called "campo", which was the standing section in the middle of the arena where all the action takes place. It was sort of a circus show, and it involved a lot of people dressed in pretty costumes flying through the arena on strings. We were sprayed with water and covered in pieces of paper and styrofoam. There were dancers in the air on shiny walls and boxes of paper exploding all over the place. There was a main group of people who played the drums loudly and sang at the top of their lungs to introduce and close the show. There was also a business man who was on a treadmill-like apparatus who began walking, then started jogging and then broke into a sprint, and then was "shot" and fell to the ground. He got back up numerous times, removed his bloodstained suit under which there would be a clean one, and the process started over again. Other people appeared on the treadmill and fell off around him while he kept moving. Then some started following him without falling. He eventually reached a staircase but then jumped into a crowd of other people who started dancing. The whole thing was very symbolic and I think it was something about the feeling that you're going nowhere in life, overcoming obstacles, and who knows what else. It was very interesting to watch. There were also huge tanks of water that appeared right above our heads with people swimming in them. The last part involved a huge tarp being draped over the audience (this part was a bit claustrophobic) and then a hole was cut in the middle so the flying actors could pick up audience members and fly them through the air. If only I had picked the right spot..

As I was coming home from Fuerza Bruta, I learned that River (the fútbol team that I had seen play last week-end) had lost their final game and therefore was relegated to the second division for the first time in 110 years. An example of how seriously Argentina takes their fútbol.. There were massive riots and over 2200 police officers were sent in to calm the 50,000 fans. They had to spray them with fire hoses and tear gas and bring in attack dogs. Helicopters were ordered to fly over the stadium. Fans burned garbage and parts of the stadium and ripped down metal street barriers. Many fans and police officers were injured but no one died. The River team members were crying because they were being relegated to division B. The Belgrano team members were crying because they were so happy that they had won. ¡Qué quilombo! Translation.. what complete chaos! All of this was really terrifying to hear on the News, especially since I had friends at that game. In general, I do not think that sports should ever be a reason for riots, injuries, and death, and it shocked me that people got so infuriated and out of control. The non-profit group "Let's Save Football" recorded that 287 people have been killed by football-related violence since 1924, and 14 people have died from this in the last 16 months. More information about Sunday's riots at the River game can be found on this site: http://www.570news.com/sports/article/246116--violence-breaks-out-after-river-plate-is-relegated-to-the-second-division.

I was happy to find out I received an 8 on my State and Religion final because while one of my answers was wrong, the professor liked my justification. This means that I got an 8 in the class, which translates to an A- (or AB at Madison). Now just two finals left! I have been talking a lot with my family lately and I am so excited to see them and spend time with them this summer. I am really looking forward to seeing my Gram and Granddad, and my aunt and Grand-Nan in Chicago. I can't wait to have movie nights and Navy Pier adventures with my brother Kevin and read and have long conversations with my mom and dad. It will be refreshing to have a month to catch up with them before heading back to Madison and starting my life again there. I will be working at my Indian restaurant Kama Bistro when I get home; I was very happy that Agnes and Vikram gave me shifts even though I will be home for such little time. Although I will miss my favorite cook, Parvis, it will be great to be working and hanging out with all my co-workers again. And of course, it will be wonderful to cram as much delicious Indian food into my system while I have it available to me. Love to all my friends and family and can't wait to see you all!

River Plate and Zombie Times

¡HOLA! Usually writing my blog entries is one of my top priorities because I know that if I don't keep up with it, I'm going to get behind and I won't be able to sufficiently express everything I am doing. However, I just had a ridiculous week of crazy work and other distractions and did not have any time whatsoever. I apologize for the delay. Here is everything you missed:

One of my big goals to accomplish in Argentina was going to a fútbol (soccer) game. For a long time I kept putting it off, thinking that I would go to one when I had more free time. However, I recently realized that all the local tournaments were rapidly finishing up and soon only the huge Copa America would be left, tickets of which are almost impossible to obtain. I was desperate to accomplish this goal because fútbol is such an essential part of Argentine culture, and I felt that missing out on a game would make me miss out on a big part of who these people who I interact with daily really are. I was asking everyone I could think of for help on how to get tickets and when the games are (I find their websites very difficult to navigate); I asked students in my program, the organizer of the fútbol games with Argentines in which I previously participated, and my host sister's boyfriend. No one was being helpful and I was getting anxious. Finally, Dario (a friend of a friend of Federico from the Mendoza bus, one of the boys that played cards with Sarah and I before we all went to a boliche about a month ago) messaged me late last Friday night and told me that he was going to the River Plate vs. Lanús game the next day, and if I wanted a ticket, I should call him 3 hours before the game. I was confused and excited but didn't want to get too hopeful in case this didn't work out. I wasn't really sure what was going on or how he could get tickets so late but I figured I should trust a porteño over my own instinct when it came to fútbol.

The next afternoon I called him and while I'm not the greatest at understanding Spanish on the phone, I managed to comprehend something about 150 pesos (about $37.50) and trying to get tickets at the stadium. As I was leaving my building, Roberto the doorman told me that my plan to get tickets sounded shifty. He said his son tried to buy tickets from someone outside the stadium and ended up getting ripped off by paying too much for a fake ticket that didn't gain him entry. This worried me, but I thought I might as well go in case a minor miracle happened. I took a bus for about half an hour and then walked down the road to the stadium. There were herds of people walking down the long stretch to the entrance clad in red and white, River's colors. Some were holding gigantic flags while others were wearing them. I heard gunshots, yelling, and cheering, the sounds of fútbol excitement. I stood by a sign for a few minutes and then saw Dario; he told me that the ticket office had started re-selling tickets within the last few hours and he had gotten me one. I couldn't believe this was happening. I was going to an Argentine fútbol game!

We stood in the stands and waited; I felt the familiar anticipation of being at a Madison football game, but intensified since I had no idea what this was going to be like. As the minutes ticked away, the whole 50,000 person stadium filled up. We were sitting in the "platea" seats, which is where the general audience sits. There is also the option of "popular", but Ana's boyfriend Suky told me not to sit there, since this is where the violent superfans sit and cause a ruckus. They are called the "barra brava" and they were playing enormous drums and had flags covering their section of the stands, one which said what they call themselves, "Los Borrachos del Tablón" (the drunks in the stands). Everyone in the stadium was throwing pieces of cut up newspaper and red and white balloons in the air. They were singing and chanting. I smelled gunpowder and growing excitement. I really felt like I was sharing something important with everyone in the stands next to me. The fans from the visiting team (Lanús) arrived shortly before the game began; Dario told me this is always what happens. They had their own section, which was definitely a good thing since some of the River fans sitting next to me made it clear that they wanted to rip their heads off.

The game began. It was so fast faced and thrilling; it was a nice change from the constant pauses and time outs during American football. I jumped up and down and clapped and tried to learn some of the songs. There was constant action for 45 minutes, then a 15 minute break, and then 45 minutes more of running, jumping, and headbutting. I have never seen a professional soccer game before and it was incredible how fast they moved and got open for their teammates; while I was still watching the ball, it was passed to someone I didn't have time to realize was there. The goalies and defense on both teams were very skilled, so it was a low scoring game. Lanús scored first and everyone got really depressed. We reached the second half without scoring a goal and people's spirits significantly dropped. However, 5 minutes into the second half, River scored! It was the best feeling ever. The whole crowd exploded with cheers and blasphemous phrases which they yelled at the other team. I was so happy, I wanted to hug the whole stadium! The fans were much more encouraged after this but within the last 5 minutes, Lanús scored their second goal and we lost. It was a sad ending but I thoroughly enjoyed my experience. Can't win 'em all, I guess.

It was crazy hearing Dario's stories about how people have died in the past in the barra brava section. The games cost more now and there's more security, so violence isn't as common. We had to wait 20 minutes after the game for the Lanús fans to clear out; this seemed highly logical to me since the man next to me who had inadvertently taught me a lot of Argentine swears looked like he was about to commit murder. Best to avoid street fights. I can get pretty enthusiastic about sports games but when I get home, there are more important things in the world to me. I don't still have rage boiling in my heart when I return from a game that my team lost. However, it seems like a lot of fútbol fans take the games a lot more seriously than I do. When I returned home, Juan the doorman turned his back on me and wouldn't speak after I told him I went to a River game. He was a Boca fan, the other Buenos Aires team. Maybe this sports thing is just something I will never fully understand.

I went to a Korean restaurant with some friends on Saturday night and it was scrumptious. I ordered Bibimbap without meat; it had bean sprouts, tofu, fried egg, potatoes, cabbage, spinach, and even a spicy red sauce which topped it all off perfectly. It was raining so much that night that I basically had to swim across the street to get to the subway. It actually rained for a few days this week, which I wasn't used to here. As I mentioned before, there is currently a hole in our bathroom ceiling, which is connected to the roof on the floor above us. One night when it was storming, I entered the bathroom and realized that it was storming in there, too! The hole in the ceiling was letting in colossal amounts of water and the floor was drenched. I had never experienced a raining bathroom before.

My host mom finally came back from Greece! She had a magnificent time but was also very tired from all of the exercise, waking up early, adventures, and then her 20 hour trip home. It was so nice to see her again. On Wednesday I had to turn in a paper about a 19th century Spanish novel called Lo Prohibido. It might not have been problematic, but I did not have time to read the 400 page book, and this paper was worth my ENTIRE GRADE. I had read up to page 137 and was skimming the rest two days before, starting to freak out a bit. I couldn't find the quotes I was looking for and was getting very frustrated. With some sort of miracle, I managed to finish the night before it was due, with the help of ideas from my host mom and friend from the class, Maggie. However, a half an hour of sleep is never a good thing, and I spent the whole next day as a zombie. I was freezing in the warm classrooms and sweating in the cold wind outside, my cheeks were bright red and I had a nasty taste in my throat that wouldn't go away. Things were not making a lot of sense and I believe I burst into hysterical laughter at a few mediocre occurrences, and responded in a shrieky tone when asked simple questions. Needless to say, I needed some sleep. But did I do that? Not so much. I had my State and Religion final the next morning and hadn't had time to study for that yet because of my ominous paper. This was already my hardest class not because of the workload but because it was based on history and government, two things that I am not the best at. I took the test and we talked about the answers afterward. I either got a 7 or an 8, depending on if the professor liked one of my justifications for one of the questions. I don't like the fact that my grade for this class depends on two 10 question multiple choice tests when there was an epically huge amount of material to study. I don't feel like that kind of evaluation accurately represents my effort in the class.

Thank goodness those two things are over; now I just have to write a paper for my Urban Music class and prepare a presentation for it, and then prepare for my oral final for Psychology of the Personality. I had my last psychology class on Wednesday and couldn't help it.. I cried again. This is the class where I made my first Argentine friends. The class that I thought was too much to handle, the class that turned out to be just what I needed to change my mind about my future ambitions. I love all three of the professors and I have learned so much from them. Last night my study abroad adviser from Madison took all of the Madison students in IFSA out to dinner since she was visiting Buenos Aires. It was really great to see all of them; sometimes I forget who in the program goes to Madison since I didn't know any of them beforehand. It was nice to finally talk to people who understood my great craving for spicy cheese bread from the Farmer's market, and the joy of getting football season tickets while on a different continent. It was also refreshing to realize that I had friends who will be with me and who will really understand my experience when I return to the real world. My friend Ally from home is having a lot of trouble with her study abroad experience in Spain right now since she just broke her foot and can no longer do the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage that she wanted to do, and also can't do normal everyday things that involve walking. Since her study abroad program is just a few weeks long, there's not as much room to bounce back after struggling like I was able to do. You are in my thoughts, Ally! Stay strong.

I have two weeks left until I am finished with exams and then two weeks in Argentina before returning home. I think it's going to be difficult to make myself focus on schoolwork in the next two weeks because a lot of my friends from the program will be leaving before me, and I will want to see them all with great frequency. Also, there are still so many things that I want to do while I'm here, and I want to take advantage of every second. I can't believe this is all coming to an end, so for now I just won't believe it. A healthy dose of denial is fine once in a while, right? I am also getting more and more anxious to see my family and friends, so maybe I am getting ready to go back. Who knows? My thoughts don't flow in a linear fashion and I really don't know what I want or where I want to be. At least that decision is now out of my hands and everything will happen the way it will happen. Here is a picture of Toto and Tango hanging out with me on a Thursday afternoon and then photos from the game:

Volcanic Eruptions and Caballeros

I have many random and disjointed thoughts frolicking throughout my brain right now concerning a cornucopia of things, so I shall structure this blog entry as a list and attempt to explain them.

*The doorman at Universidad del Salvador and I exchanged an "hola, ¿cómo andás?" (hello, how are you?) last night, as we always do. We both said it at the same time and neither of us answered the question. I continued on my way and realized that maybe we weren't looking for an answer. Maybe these pleasantries are just said out of habit, and no one really cares how the other person is doing. I feel like the only expected answers are "bien" (well), "muy bien" (very well), or "cansada" (tired). What if I took that question seriously and immediately started pouring out my heart about my academic concerns and worries about the future? That would be socially unacceptable. Then why do we ask if we don't want real answers? Of course we care how are friends and family are doing, but maybe for everyone else it would make more sense to just say "hola."

*I am very immersed in certain books when I am reading them and I feel like they are really impacting my life and emotions. However, when I finish them they just go on a shelf somewhere or back to a library. After some time I often forget the plot lines and important dialogue. Do these books that I enjoyed thoroughly at the time still impact me after I forget the character names and endings? Or did they just serve for that immediate experience? It frustrates me when I try to have a fruitful conversation with someone else about a novel that I have read, but realize that I have forgotten most of it. Sometimes I wish I had a photographic memory. Other times I wonder if that would be annoying.

*One of the assistant professors in my Psychology of the Personality class has very very long, straight hair, like most women in Argentina. The other day she had it pinned back in a flowery clip and it flowed down her back like a waterfall. It made me think of Iguazú and I had trouble concentrating in class.

*I have not seen my friend Valeria in a while because she went back home (to Formosa, 8 hours from Buenos Aires) to take care of her mom, who is having heart problems. I really hope she gets better; she is one of Valeria's bestest friends in the whole world.

*There was a problem with the drainage in the bathroom on the 11th floor (the one right above us), so someone punched a hole in the floor that goes through to our ceiling. For a few days our whole floor was soaked and large chunks of foundation were sporadically crashing into our bathroom. Needless to say, I was not able to shower in our apartment for a few days. This wasn't so bad; it gave me extra motivation to go to the gym, since that is the only place where I could cleanse myself.

*Toto always freaks out at my computer cord, camera cord, and any sort of ribbon. I thought it was just in cartoons that cats acted like that. Is there some sort of evolutionary reason why they are drawn to string? Did it help them fight off the Wooly Cat Mammoths?

*I had my last Structure of Subjectivity class two nights ago and I couldn't help it.. I cried! Even though this isn't a class where I made amazing lifelong friends, I really liked it. The 3 and a half hours every Tuesday were nowhere near as unbearable as I thought they would be. I gave my teacher a card that I made. On the front, I drew a cartoon with two sections, one representing neurosis and one psychosis. The difference between these two is that neurosis can happen with everyone; one does not lose grip on reality but simply chooses to ignore it. Psychosis is when one is disconnected from reality and creates a new version of it (this is not considered normal, rather pathological). To demonstrate neurosis, I drew a girl saying "I am the only girl in my boyfriend's life!" while her boyfriend is standing next to her with a flower and 4 other girls. Under psychosis, I drew a girl saying "My boyfriend is sensitive, kind, and very handsome!" and she is kissing a horse. Corny, I know, but I am easily amused.

*There was a gigantic volcanic eruption in Chile, so tons of areas of Chile and parts of Argentina are currently covered in ash. A lot of my friends who have been traveling have not been able to fly back to Buenos Aires because all of the flights are being delayed or cancelled. My friends Matt and Josh had to take a 40 hour bus ride back to BA from Calafate! I don't know much about the volcano but I really hope everyone is okay. I have to find out more about it.

*Ana Lucía and Suky and I had dinner last night and I cried with laughter the whole time. We talked about names we liked in both of our languages, cracked up for 10 minutes at how she pronounced "potato", and then we somehow ended up singing "My Heart Will Go On" by Celine Dion. I love living with them and even though I am excited to see my host mom again this coming Monday when she gets back from Greece, it will be sad when Ana goes back to living her in her apartment.

*I looked up the word "charcas", the name of my street, and found out that it means a pond, or a pool of water that is collected to congeal into ice. I also looked up the word "cachafaz", the name of my favorite alfajor, and it means sneaky, crafty, or rascally. This does not surprise me since those delicious devils always manage to trick me into buying them when I pass my favorite kiosk.

*I am going to miss street vendors. Forgot your lunch? Don't worry! Here is a delicious bagel. And fried almonds. And a variety of fruit! Do you have a cold? Here's some Kleenex. Or a pretty scarf! I could not resist the temptation and bought a gigantic Argentine flag to hang in my Madison apartment (I am wearing it in the above picture).

*Yesterday Roberto the doorman asked when I was leaving. When I told him July 19th, he said "ayy falta poco!" (not much time left). Don't tell me that! I still have to become a professional tango dancer, learn to speak Spanish better than I speak English, and become a practicing psychologist. When I told my Freud teacher the other day that I might become a psychologist, she got really excited and announced to the class that I am going to be the one of the few psychoanalysts in the US. I didn't want to burst her bubble but I really don't think I want to start a career based on interpretation of children's drawings, repressed memories, and how psychosexual stages affect people later in life.

*I was in the elevator with a 4 or 5 year old boy and his mother who were going to the 9th floor. We arrived on the 9th, the boy mumbled something cute and Spanish-y and then the mom said, "querés ser un caballero?" (you want to be a gentleman?) The boy nodded and they accompanied me to the 10th floor just so he could open the lift doors for me and then head back down to their floor. It was the most adorable occurrence of my day and made me chuckle for 5 minutes afterward.

*I love my life here. Sometimes I think things go by too fast, but other times I think that if I love what I am doing and where I am, it's always going to seem too fast. Maybe it's actually the perfect amount of time. If you add more hours to a day, would it really make a difference? Or would it just be like adding money to the circulation? There would be more of it, but all together it has the same value. After my first month here, I did not see myself ever coming back to Buenos Aires. I have completely reevaluated and now have friends and family here. Vacations are always more fun when you have someone who loves you to go back to. I no longer feel like a tourist. You're not a tourist if you're studying, or adapting to the culture. You're not a tourist if the place you're visiting feels like home.

Living Up To My URL

I recently realized that my Argentina experience was lacking the first item that I wrote on my goal list before arrival, also something that happens to constitute the URL of this blog. nancylearnsthetango.blogspot.com. Does she? Does she?! I have been so caught up in school and trips that I have forgotten about the world famous dance invented in the country in which I am studying. The dance that represents the simultaneous feeling of isolation of all the immigrants who came from different places to form this country, and their desire for closeness and understanding through human interaction. The tango is not as obviously a cultural staple as I thought it would be upon entering the country. When I talk to citizens of Argentina, the majority of them do not know how to tango. I don't know what I was expecting, maybe that everyone danced tango on the streets while they walked to work, or that people burst into the soulful tango tunes of Carlos Gardel on the subte. I found out that it is a big deal; you just have to find it. There are lessons offered somewhere in the city every night of the week, and there are huge crowds of people that attend. You just have to be active in your pursuit. Last Thursday I decided that I should start making use of the tango shoes I bought for this trip.

My host sister Ana Lucía took me to her usual Thursday night tango lesson at a milonga (the picture above is of me and my sister before leaving). A milonga is an open floor dance scene that anyone is able to join. There are experienced dancers and also people that are just learning. There are tables set up around the dance floor where you can eat dinner and be astonished by the artful expression. Milongas usually offer tango lessons beforehand, which is what I went to. I made sure to find the beginner group, and since there were less of us, I got more personal attention. As we were learning the basic step, I realized that I had already learned it from Agustín my second night in Mendoza! It was exciting that I already partially knew what was going on, but they also had us do a number of walking and pivoting exercises to perfect our movements (apparently this was necessary since the instructor told me I was slouching and moving my hips too much at each count). First we learned the 7 basic steps, and then we learned the "ocho" (translation: 8), which involves pivoting in the middle of the 7 basic steps and sliding around on the floor to form a figure 8. This looks extremely cool if you do it right. Watching the people dance after my lesson was really inspiring. It made me want to become a professional all in one night and start moving my body and legs in the crazy ways that they were. I saw them doing the basic step but adding tons of improvised leg lifts and wrapping their leg around the other person. The dance floor gets really crowded and the man can decide to pause for a few counts if the couple is in danger of hitting another. The tango is a very intimate dance and the woman must be very close to her partner (basically hugging him) so the man can direct her without ambiguity as to what will happen next. The tango is a very machista dance, so the men do all of the deciding and directing. It is against tango code for women to ask men to dance; the man chooses the woman he wants to dance with, makes eye contact with her from across the room, and nods toward the dance floor. The woman can choose to look away or nod in agreement. While the feminist side of me disagrees with this morality, it is also nice to not have to worry about what I want to do next while dancing. Ana Lucía told me that she has to close her eyes while dancing to make sure she follows what the man wants to do and doesn't start improvising too many of her own moves during the pauses.

On Saturday I decided that I had not gotten enough tango for the week, so my friends and I went to dinner and then had plans to go to another milonga afterward. Dinner was great; we went to a place called "El Arte de Mafia" (The Art of the Mafia) in Palermo Soho. The menu was amusing in itself; all of the scrumptious-looking pasta dishes were accompanied by a biographical description and photo of a member of the Italian mafia. The sign for the restaurant had a huge splatter of blood next to the name, and an arrow pointing at it that said "tuco." Tuco is the Spanish word for tomato sauce (sometimes including meat), so it was humorous. After some tiramisu, we headed over to the well-known milonga called La Viruta. There was a beginner group like last time but this time it was much bigger, so personal attention was not the focus. There were many more women than men, so a lot of women had to practice by themselves for parts of the lesson. After the lesson, the lights dimmed and the music was amplified. Since I did not have adequate experience, I just planned on standing on the side and watching people get their groove on. However, plans changed when my friends and I were asked to dance by a few different guys. I made sure to inform them that I was a beginner, but they didn't seem to mind. Carlos was really funny and enjoyed my lack of experience. We didn't get to try tango for very long because after one song, what they call "Rock 'n Roll" music came on, which is what we call swing. La Viruta offers salsa and "Rock 'n Roll" lessons along with tango, so they were playing a mix. He taught me some basic swing dance and I absolutely loved the constant twirling and rocking back and forth. I don't think I mastered it yet considering Carlos started calling me "Nancy from the farm" because he said I looked like I was on a horse when I danced. It didn't work out so well with Guillermo; he did not do a good job of protecting me from other couples and we continuously collided. Then one of my dance partners from the earlier lesson, Fernando, asked me to accompany him to the dance floor. This was very fun since we were both beginners. Our challenge was not getting the step right, but avoiding collisions. Eventually it got easier and we were able to carry on with a conversation without worrying about the whereabouts of our feet. I felt very comfortable dancing with him and I think we might go to more tango lessons together. I also want to check out some of the salsa lessons offered at La Viruta and see if they are similar to lessons I have taken at Madison.

I've been talking to home friends and family a lot lately and it has been very comforting. Because of technology, I feel like I am keeping close to my loved ones at home while still doing everything that I want to here. I feel even closer to some of my Madison friends than I did when I left; it is wonderful to share experiences with them and help each other through rough spots in our times apart. I think I am doing a pretty good job at fulfilling two things on my list of Argentina goals that my Madison friends helped me write before I got here. "Live in the moment" and right below that, "Don't forget your home." There is always the negative side about being away from your friends and family for long periods of time.. When disaster strikes. I just found out from my parents that my Uncle Greg got in his third motorcycle accident, resulting in broken ribs and an injured neck. He is going to be okay but is currently in the hospital and not doing well. I really hope he recovers fully and promptly, but I am also very relieved that he was lucky enough to survive his third crash. All of my memories of him involve tons of laughter, jokes, and funny matching snowman and Santa ties that he and my brother traditionally buy to wear for Christmas dinner. I fondly remember always borrowing his snakeskin cowboy boots when he came to visit. You are in my heart and thoughts, Uncle Greg!

Revelation, Realization, or Maybe Another "R" Word

For the past few days, I have been thinking so much that my mind is fatigued.

I finally found out the date of my last final exam. I am used to being informed of this information before I even register for a class, and that's when I don't have a flight, a job, and trips to plan. It is on July 6th so I figured I would go home a week after my exam. However, more advanced notice is apparently necessary to change the dates of international flights, so my mom bought a ticket for the first one with an open seat. I will be flying out of Buenos Aires on July 19th and arriving in Chicago on the 20th. At first I was disappointed about the prospect of having less time to work at Kama and see my family and home friends, but then I discovered the bright side of things. I will finally have some time to spend in Buenos Aires when I am not worrying about homework, tests, and projects. How cool is that? I will have two weeks to hang out with my Argentine friends, read the books I bought, watch Argentine films, visit other barrios, and hopefully go to a fútbol game. I have not decided yet if I am going to plan a last trip before I leave the country. I have such conflicted feelings right now about where I want to be and who I want to spend time with the most. I wish I had a time turner so I could be in 5 places at once (Madison, Chicago, Buenos Aires, Rosario, and Perú).

This past week-end I had a revelation. Maybe that's not the right word. Dictionary.com defines revelation as "something revealed or disclosed, especially a striking disclosure, as of something not before realized." This is actually something that was realized once, buried, and then rediscovered. When I took my first psychology class in high school, I was hooked. I was fascinated by the idea of learning about.. learning. Learning about how people function and think. I took two more classes while I was there and then hit a crossroads at graduation. I knew that I loved psychology, but I also loved literature. I loved the concept of teaching but the idea of talking to patients and helping them improve their life and attitude also really intrigued me. I had two amazing high school English teachers that opened my eyes to things I had never thought of before. Mr. Stukel incorporated psychological concepts into his literature instruction. I enjoyed this immensely. I thought analyzing the thoughts, desires and unconscious states of characters was a fascinating way to read a novel. Mrs. Roessler taught me about Transcendentalism through literature and helped me realize that there is no reason why you should ever hesitate to be completely how you want to be. In the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, "It is easy in the world to life after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude." Or more simply, "If I am not myself, who else will be?" -Henry David Thoreau. Both of these teachers changed my life forever and I still consider them good friends. However, because of the impact they had on me, I thought that I had to be an English teacher to change someone's outlook so profoundly. I also strayed away from the idea of teaching psychology because in many high schools, psychology is in the history department, and you have to teach history classes in order to teach psychology. I am no history buff and I had to make a choice, so I chose English.

I have loved my English classes at Madison but I always had a lingering desire to take psychology courses if I had extra room. People always say to take the classes that interest you and don't worry about what you're going to do with them until later. This makes so much more sense to me after having experienced it firsthand here in Buenos Aires. When I realized that most of the classes in these Argentine universities were not going to transfer back to classes that I needed for major credit at Wisconsin, my advisor told me to take classes that interested me. I do not believe it was not an arbitrary decision of mine to take psychology classes. Although they were extremely difficult at first because of the language barrier and different teaching styles, I have fallen in love with both my Structure of Subjectivity and Psychology of the Personality classes. I actually feel like I am on the same page as the students in these classes (contrary to my literature class, where I often times feel very lost due to my ignorance of literary movements and historical events). I love meeting people, interacting with them, and learning about them. I recognize that psychology is taught differently here than it is in the US, but the roots are the same and I know what interests me. Argentina has helped me realize something that I have shoved aside for a few years now. I want my future to involve psychology. I still love literature, but I can have hobbies, right? I am not sure at this point whether I want to teach psychology in high school, teach it in college, or become a psychologist myself. But these decisions come with time, experience, and knowledge. I am excited and terrified about this decision, but I think it's better that I am confronting it rather than just pushing it away and fabricating silly excuses.  

Two nights ago, Ana Lucía left to stay at Suky's house for the night and the power went out while I was practicing my psychology presentation at 1 AM. This always happens when no one else is home; I'm starting to think it's all in my mind since there's never anyone there to testify. I did my homework by candlelight and cuddled with Toto for comfort while hoping that my newly purchased Parmesan would not go bad from lack of refrigeration. Of course the next morning was the one time a week when I wake up before the sun, and the lights were still out. I think the power outage was a test of how well I know the house and my own daily routine. I knew I passed the test because I managed to put shampoo in my hair before the conditioner while showering in the pitch black. 

Some things that used to really bother me about this country are things that I realize I am going to miss. Maybe I will miss the power going out unexpectedly every once in a while. It brings me back to Medieval times and I get to carry around a candle like a torch. Maybe I will miss the weird pharmacy system of having to pay for something, get a receipt, and then receive the object after another worker retrieves it from behind a glass door. An opportunity to talk to multiple people about the feminine products I need to buy. Maybe I will miss having a doorman. A loyal friend who is always there greet me, give me play recommendations, and offer a shoulder to cry on after a stressful day in the city. Maye I will miss no one ever having change at any of the stores. Sometimes this means a discount or just that I am forced to buy an alfajor. Maybe I will miss Tango peeing on the floor right outside my room. Just a reminder that I should spend more time with him and take him on fun adventure walks. Maybe I will miss class never starting on time because the professor arrives 30 minutes late. More time for meeting new friends, neglecting to work on unfinished homework and instead deciding to make plans for coffee.

I added more Iguazú pictures to this entry because part of my heart is still there.

The Power of Poseidon

 A few things before I shower you with stories of my waterfall week-end: My friend Valeria from Spanglish and I have become close friends in a short period of time. We can really open up to each other and she is already somebody who I feel like I can trust. Thinking about leaving her and my other friends in a month makes me upset, so I choose not to focus on it. Sometimes we switch off languages because she likes to practice her English and I like to practice my Spanish. I was walking to Plaza Italia wearing my rainbow dress last week and a man who looked like an older version of John Lennon stopped me on the sidewalk. He told me he was a painter and notified me of an art fair close by. He then asked if he could take ten minutes of my time to draw a picture of me. I was caught off guard and said yes, I suppose you can do that. He had me sit down on a park bench and asked me questions about myself. He told me I had beautiful form and a very nice face to draw.. I was flattered until I talked to my friend Maja afterward and realized that the same man had drawn her a few days previous.

Okay, here we go. My friends Sarah and Kayti and I flew to Iguazú in Misiones, Northern Argentina on Thursday. There was a special discount and the flight cost less than the 20 hour bus ride (thank goodness!). We arrived in an hour and 45 minutes and took a shuttle to our hostel. Hostels in this country are great; 8 dollars a night for a bed, a lukewarm shower, and guaranteed new friends (we met people from Chile, France, Hong Kong, Canada, and Mexico). However, 8 dollars a night implies a few things that I sometimes forget. The man at the front desk gave us the wrong key and we walked into a room with a king sized bed and luggage all over the place. I don't like the idea that the workers are offering up my possessions to the rest of the hostel world. We returned the mystery key and he let us into our room, but then took our key with him. We told him that we needed it so we could lock the door when we left, but he told us that the doors are usually left open anyways, no worries. There weren't any lockers to keep our valuables, so this open door policy was worrying. Later when we went to get the key, it wasn't even there. What a madhouse. We kept our passports, money and cameras behind the front desk, which was a good idea since we came home one day to find our door wide open and no one inside. Nothing was stolen, but this was still an uncomfortable sight upon returning. The tube that connected to the toilet tank in our bathroom came loose, resulting in clean water splashing all over the place every time we flushed the toilet. Did they fix this during our stay? Of course not. We concluded that the hostel workers were trying to re-create the experience of the waterfalls in case we missed them too much at night.

It was not as hot as I was expecting it to be in the far North of Argentina, but it was still warmer than Buenos Aires. It was beautiful and sunny for both days of our stay in Iguazú; I'm not sure if it's always that beautiful or if the world was just on our side. The National Park of Iguazú is essentially a jungle filled with wildlife and waterfalls bigger than you can imagine! We took an open-roof tour bus along the jungle path and saw tons of exotic trees, plants, and animals that I had never seen in real life before. There are a lot of native plants like papaya and guava, but also many foreign ones such as eucalyptus from Australia, mangoes from India, bananas from Africa, and oranges from Asia. We saw lots of toucans in the trees (how thrilling!) and turkey vultures in the air. Our guide told us that there are 120 mammal species in the Iguazú forest. Some of the most common are the cappuccino monkeys and the coatíes, which are cute furry animals that resemble a mix of raccoon, anteater, and beaver. They dig in the ground and are not scared of humans, so we were very up close and personal with them. They reminded me of nifflers from Harry Potter because of their long noses and digging habits. We saw a small spieces of crocadile on our raft tour. All of this crazy wildlife really made me feel like I was in South America.

I learned that "Iguazú" was a word from the Guaraní language, spoken by the indigenous tribe that used to inhabit the Iguazú Forest. It translates to "agua grande" in Spanish, or "big water" in English. There are many versions of the legend of the Falls, but the one that I heard is that long ago, a woman was sacrificed every year to appease the giant river spirit, a serpent named Boi. A beautiful woman named Naipí was to be sacrificed, but her forbidden lover rescued her and they fled the serpent in a canoe. The serpent was so angry that he slammed himself on a rock, creating the Iguazú Falls. The couple was doomed to separation and was said to only be reunited when there was a rainbow in the Falls. Due to the sun and the constant mist from the impact of the water, there are visible rainbows in the different waterfalls at various times of the day. These definitely added to the magic of the experience.

When we entered the park, there were a number of paths available. We first started on the "parte superior" (upper part), where we were able to see a lot of the waterfalls from the top. This was very exciting but nothing compared to what we would see later. It is cool to see the source of the gigantic waterfalls, but you cannot really feel their immensity when you are at the top. You cannot feel the force of the endless flowing water crashing into the Iguazú river, or the mist on your face. After the upper path, we went to the lower path ("parte inferior"). This was incredible. Some of the view points were more panoramic, allowing us to see many of the 275 waterfalls at once, while at other points, we were able to walk right up close to the Falls. They were so loud and fast, it made me dizzy to look at them for too long. At last, we took a train to the path that led to the most breathtaking part of the Falls, la garganta del diablo (the devil's throat). At this point, I was convinced that I was dreaming. It just did not make sense. Four gigantic waterfalls poured into each other with such intense force that I was sure the Greek god of the Sea, Poseidon, was responsible for their epic existences. It was the most water I had ever seen moving the fastest I had ever seen anything move, and I started to forget it was water. It looked more like fluid clouds coming down in sheets. The devil's throat is the dividing line between Argentina and Brazil. You can see the Falls from both sides and I have heard that they are both worth seeing, but the Brazilian side offers more of a panoramic view of the Falls, whereas the Argentine side offers closer positions to them.

There were butterflies everywhere near the devil's throat, and a lot of them became my friends (I think they were attracted to my brightly colored clothing). We took a boat ride that went right up to the Falls. We got soaked! At least we thought to buy ponchos 10 minutes beforehand. It was thrilling being doused with water from these intense forces of nature. Part of me was scared we would be submerged and never surface. The next day, we had a few adventures in the forest outside of the Iguazú National Park. We traveled in a group with two Australians and two Colombians, so there was a crazy mix of Spanglish happening throughout the morning. We rappelled off a large rock, which was not too scary since I had done some rappelling in my high school gym class. We went on a hike and saw Paraguay across the Paraná River. Our guide told us that there was a point 10 km from where we were where you can see the meeting place of Paraguay, Brazil, and Argentina. Then came my favorite part.. Ziplining! My knees grew week as I climbed the extremely tall stairs to get to the top of the platform and I wondered if my harness would hold, but I knew that an adrenaline rush was just what I needed. We ziplined three different times to different platforms, and it was amazing! I felt like Princess Leia from Star Wars flying through the lush green trees on her land speeder with ewoks in Return of the Jedi. My only complaint was that it didn't last long enough!

After our morning of activities, we went back for one last look at the Falls. We returned to the lower path and realized we had missed a whole section the day before. The water flow was much stronger this day; we could tell because of the submersion of rocks we had seen and also a highly increased mist production. It amazed us how much the force of the water could change in one day. Along the jungle path, we spotted a group of monkeys hanging around in the orange trees! They don't eat oranges since these are not native to South America, but they definitely enjoyed throwing them at us. I had no problem with this; I ate one and it was delicious! After our monkey fun, we returned to the devil's throat to make sure we did not imagine it. I had the same reaction as Eleanor Roosevelt when she saw the Iguazú Falls; "Poor Niagra!"

I never wanted to leave because I feared that I would someday forget the feeling of such an unbelievably grand presence. All good things must end, so we left the next morning bright and early for another jolt back to reality. But it isn't really reality yet, not while I'm still in this crazy country. Argentina has given me more than I ever imagined, and I am so glad to have this had this opportunity to get to know part of South America. I would love to come back someday and hike through Machu Picchu in Peru and see the pueblos of Chile, but if I never get the opportunity, I know I have been more than lucky to have had these life changing experiences this semester. I came home to Buenos Aires today and was welcomed by a sweet note from Ana Lucía and my favorite alfajor :) I also received a visit from María Sol (Ana's sister), Pablo and Juanita; they had come to walk Tango. I have not seen them much since the beginning of my stay here, and it was refreshing how much more comfortable it was to communicate with them compared to last time. They are taking a trip to London in July for Pablo's work and I offered to help them brush up on their English if they would like some practice. Whew! This entry is a long one. I realize that I tried to describe an indescribable experience.. I hope you got a taste of it.