Bienvenido a Uruguay

We all know the joke about being in a foreign country and lying about your nationality. A joke yes but i have never before actually felt like maybe there is some truth to that before now. Argentines are generally quite friendly but without fail, when they find out where you are from they ask you if you are a republican. At first i was surprised that they knew so much about the United States political system but, as a taxi driver explained to me, why not? US politics and the decisions that our government make effect the rest of the world more then we will ever know. The general sentiment here is that it would be ignorant of Argentines to not know more about the "most powerful empire on earth" (says my host brother Rodrigo).

I bring this up not just to give a small perspective on a persepctive, but rather to try and explain that for the first time since arriving in South America have i actually felt like i should lie. I spent my weekend in Colonia Uruguay alone and as was my goal in going doing this sola, I refused to speak any english. People still asked where i was from whenever i opened my mouth. "Los estados unidos" i would say and every time, no matter how nice they were to try and cover it up, i got the same "oh" reaction. The kind of reaction that encompasses so much about you and their views. For instance that one monosyllable reaction explains to them why you are a tourist and further why you are the only female around traveling alone. It got to a point where i was compremising not lying by quickly adding in that i lived in Argentina. The "oh" would then change to "muy bien". The treatment i recieved by adding just that little detail was noticable.

Colonia, where i went to in Uruguay, is an unknown jewel on the Río Plata. That would explain why the whole tiny city survives on tourism. A well preserved former Portuguese colony that is so compact that cars are few and people get around on rented motor bikes, mopeds and even golf carts. It was amusing to watch tourists try and drive over the uneven cobblestones and then stop at every souvenier shop despite the fact that each one sold the exact same things as the one previous. The entire old town has cobblestone streets and pedestrian alley ways that all lead to the rio that surround the small peninsula. Absolutly gorgeous.

To those that heard all about my interesting hostel experience in Salta two weeks ago, join me in celebrating the even worse conditions of the one i stayed at in Colonia. I don´t know why i have stuck with this hosteling international chain because its just been a progressively worse-- or i guess you can say a more interesting experience since. This one was gratefully quiet and peaceful. The inner courtyard was beautiful but the services left much to be desired. I was greeted by a room that was colder then outside with windows that i not only couldn´t reach but also that wouldn´t remain closed. I had the 6 bed room to myself which was good if only because there were only two lockers in that room (both of which had no place for a lock). I recieved a key for the door but that was the biggest joke of all. The key was for appearances only because the moment i pushed on the joining of the french doors, they would open locked or not. I did stay the night there but it was mainly on the principle that it was almost completely devoid of people. Again, quiet and peaceful. Maybe its ironic but in a twisted way the lack of almost all security made it safe in this tourist town.

After my Salta trip as well, i made sure this time to book with a different bus company. There are three types of buses here: semi cama (which is like the greyhound in the US), cama (which are wide lazy-boy like seats with a feet apparatis that comes off the chair in front of you so you can rest your feet at an angle), and the third which i have only heard about which are full camas (that implies fully reclining squichy seats). My Salta bus of 16 hours on a cockroach infested semi cama was the dark ages to my Rosario to Buenos Aires bus. The only thing better then this 3am cama bus were the excellent conditions of the ferry i took across the Río Plata into Uruguay. It was HUGE and clean with live entertainment. But the best part of this experience was the mere fact of being alone. I never realized before how much easier it is to meet people when locals don´t hear you chatting with friends in english. Right away i met this really sweet couple from BA who essentially adopted me for the voyage. They spoke no english and were very talkative. We spent three hours talking, looking up words in my dictionary and checking out the view. The trip back was with a korean girl who read in spanish and spoke in english. Thank goodness for the distractions because huge ferry or not, i couldn´t eat or drink anything for fear that it would all come back up. Which would be horribly gross.

Not to make this email to much longer but my summer in winter is winding down. I am in my second set of midterms which is not stopping me from going out every night of the week. In fact, in the last 10 days i have been home for dinner twice. I finally understand that Argentina does not kid around when they say that there is something to do every night of the week. I have had two salsa lessons and three tango lessons in the last week. I have also further discovered that there exists no real mexican food here. I tried the one place here and all i got was a cheese wrap with a few raw beans and over mayo-ed guacamole. That, and the 20 peso sitting fee compounded with the servers making sure that we understood that "tip was not included" by writing it on our bill in english as they stood over our shoulers. After that experience, friday night was like a heaven-sent: the mother of a friend of mine came to visit and with her brought two pounds of chedder cheese, refried beans, tortillas and spices (finally something besides salt). The resulting fiesta was fantastic and i happily gorged myself.

To anyone who will be spending time with me right when i get back to the states, expect to eat nothing with me besides mexican food and sushi.

So with that update, pasar bien.
Jazmin


LETTER TO DANI:

Dani--

So i hope you read the my general email first because i have funny stories to add that i knew you would appreciate. In the context of being a lone traveler...

I was walking around the city alone yesturday morning bright and early and passed by this closed shop with a front wall of windows. I looked at it briefly and could see a lone security guard standing against the glass facing out. there was an advertisment on the window that went from his mouth to his knees. Another ad went from his forehead up. I only noticed this becuase as i passed he followed me with only his eyes. the effect was creepy into hysterical. instead of turning his head or his whole body to continue looking at me as i passed he used only his eyes. I looked away at first thinking this was just a coincidence by then i had just passed in front of the next shop and couldn´t help but look backwards--and there his eyes were nearly completly whited out from looking at me from the corner of them. Creepy but i laughed out loud so hard that a group of locals went so far as to point at me.

Secondly, the process of getting into the terminal of the boquebus ferry to BA. It was empty but still had this maze like line up to the front desk. So ridiculous but i went through it anyways twisting with every switchback. I felt ridiculous and i could see the two men watching me from the desk. An older man and a younger one about our age. They were both trying not to laugh. I decided to be funnier and take great big dramatic steps like i was climbing everest instead of moving from switchback to switchback. The younger one couldn´t contain himself although he tried so hard. He even pointed to me. When i got to the desk closer i realized he wasn´t exactly pointing at me but rather at my chest when he had laughed. I had my vest open and the effect of the straps of my giant backpack made me look like i had breasts each the size of my head. At the desk i zipped my vest and the boy turned bright red and wouldn´t look at me at all. Another reason for laughter was the express line that went straight to the desk that i apparently missed. Sigh.

Thirdly that i can remember right now was last night when i got out of the taxi on my street corner. I got out and couldn´t find the house key. I was freaking ou because it was midnight and not only would it be not fun to have to wake my family up to let me in but further if i lost that key, i know my family would be very very upset. I was totally freaked out. I looked in every pocket and right when i was resolved to failure the taxi comes back around my corner and the two new passangers come out and give me the key. OMG was i happy. I was relieved and so surprised that someone had not only found it but also that the taxi came back to find me so as to make sure i could get in my house. So cosmically lucky.
Jaz

Iguazu email

Iguazú, where i spent last weekend, is in the tippiest-toppest finger-like point of northern Argentina. Iguazú means "big" in the native language and references not the town (which is very small called Puente del Iguazú) but rather the world´s largest system of waterfalls. Victoria Falls in Africa is very large too but not wide which is where South America wins. To get to Iguazú my program got us on a bus at 3 pm thursday afternoon and 20 hours later we arrived in the city mentioned above.

Iguazú is in the "sub-tropics" on the same lines with Sao Paulo Brazil (10 hours away) and Asuncion Paraguay (the capital 200 miles west). So while i was told that there were monkeys and tucans, i never saw any. Instead the place is full of palms, oranges (non-native), bamboo (native in a way--it found its own way across from Asia) and these wierd raccoon creatures. "Coaties" is the slang that is used for them. They look exactly like raccoons but without masks and with a much longer snout. They are so incredibly unafraid of humans that they are known to climb up tourists and steal their food straight from their hands. Can you imagine a full size raccoon doing that to you in your yard? I do believe it as i had one walking the handlebar of the walking bridge one foot from me. At one of the rest stop areas in the national park I saw a whole group of them ignore a park attendent who tried to scare them away from the trash that they were jumping into like kids on a trampoline.

Do remember that it is most definitly winter here in Argentina. So, for being in this place it was as close to summer as i could get. It was warm enough for sandles and t-shirts. Further, it was overcast most of the weekend but the humidity was 100 percent so i could see my breath in the air mix with the constant misty drizzle. The ground shows the constant play with water-- its rust red from the high iron content rusting everyday of the year.

The Cataracas (waterfalls) of Iguazú are made up of two huge rivers meeting in the conjunction between Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay. The waterfalls are mainly split between Brazil and Argentina though with Argentina claiming 75 percent of them. This means that even though i couldn´t cross into Brazil, i still got the best view. Its hard to beat being able to lean over the two feet between you and the literal top edge of a plunging waterfall that could toss you down 300 feet into complete whiteness like a tree leaf. The utter force of the scene is beyond comparision. With each view point, below, next to, or over the waterfalls that i went to i was blown away not only by the scene but with the amazement that these view points were even able to be built. I can only imagine the number of people sacrificed to be the ones who laid down the foundations before being swept away to their deaths. Our guide told us that no one who is known to have jumped off has ever lived through the experience and if they jumped off the first waterfall i went to (the highest and called the throat of the devil), their bodies were never found. Quick note about our guide is that he was a multilinguist Brazilian who loves these falls so much that he leads groups up to them 6 days of the week and every week for the last 22 years. That in itself is incredible.

Besides the walking around the waterfalls i did do other things. Like i took a powerboat under the waterfalls. I was terrified, couldn´t see anything but assaulting whiteness and experienced the profound inablity to breath due to the sheer force of the water fall against us. I do believe that this is an experience that would never been legal in the US. What i also did was visit the "Hito Tres Fronteras" which is the point where Argentina meets Paraguay and Brazil seperated only by a "Y" of two rivers. I also ate horrible empanadas and mass produced ham sandwiches in two different gas stations during each of the 20 hour bus rides.

Mendoza email

Mendoza is where they should have had my program: its gorgeous, not crampted, filled with dirt and exhuast, and not to mention those mountains again with a beautiful desert. Mendoza is almost exactly level with Santiago Chile but on the Argentine side of the range. This was also the furthest point that i am told that the Inca Empire reached. They went thru Chile and then over the mountains and into Mendoza. The natives there had already developed a centralized irrigation/canal system to use the desery area. The Incas arrived and enslaved the population also before building a bigger and more extensive canal system. Then, of course, came the Spanish who killed and enslaved everyone and then extended the canal system more. As a result very little native planets grow in the city. Its all transplanted olive trees and a white barked like elm. Every street has mini canals paralell to them that feed each tree on every street. Its kind of a cool place.

In Mendoza i relaxed, breathed fresh air, had another long tour (so over them!!), ate so much food, relaxed more, ate more food, went to a vineyard for another tour (but this time a wine tasting tour) and then spent saturday 3.5 hours into the heart of the Andes.

The Andes are actually made up of three chains: the Chilean side, the middle snowy monsters, and the red with iron Argentine side. Needless to say i took roughly 80 pictures of them. Oh! And in our mountain trip went to the viewpoint for the highest mountain in south america. Then to a icy over priced resort where we had a blast. My friends and i here had rented 7 sleds and had races down icy slopes. I screamed myself hoarse and fell so many times that i am proud to say that i even have a bruise the size of a dime on the top of my left hand. Yes, the Andes were freezing. I know people say "coldest experience of my life" that then gets replaced with more and more experiences, but i think i really can honestly say that this experience was the coldest of my life with sincerity. I wore everything i owned and then rented snow gear and i still froze. But it was worth it.

Mendoza is a 13 hour bus ride from Rosario. Our group of 27 was cooped into the top level of a double decker bus. The return trip was a sauna and everyone was coughing and hacking and moaning drunk off all the free wine or with bruises from the mountains. It was a sespool of germs and i am sad to say that i am sick again. But never fear mom, i am in Argentina where you can buy medicine drugs on every corner for a peso. Even prescription drugs in the united states are here sold over the counter. I count myself lucky: one of the girls here has confirmed broncidius (sp?), pink eye and a swollen throat.

9 de Julio email

Saludos de sudamérica

Monday was Argentina´s Independance day, 9 de Julio. In addition to being a huge deal here it actually snowed in Buenos Aires and here in the Pampas for the first time since 1918. Thats 91 years without snow. I was in Funes (the countryside just outside of Rosario where i live) with my host family and they were freaking out about the weather. We watched the news coverage on B.A. and then all of a sudden white snow fell here. In Funes i met my ENTIRE extended host family and we had a very extravagent argentine parilla (BBQ!!!). I have never had so much meat at once in my entire life. My friends and family: you should be proud.

I have just returned from my second trip to Buenos Aires. This time i did all of the touristy things. I stayed in a fancy hotel that served REAL orange juice (non of the tang stuff that is more common then water here). I also toured many neighborhoods and learned a lot about Argentine history. Out of all of the walking tours i had i can only tell you two significant things:

1) Buenos Aires is the only place in the world where a half french classical and half german gothic building was built next to an italian and french building withen a space of 5 years. This example describes Buenos Aires perfectly. Actually, its surprising how many european influences are in Argentina. I guess they wanted a neo-paris.

2) Buenos Aires is a collection of failed ports. The city itself was started in the 1500s. Then dismantled (you can imagine after the plague and loads of diseases). Restarted in the 1600s. Its history as a port is similar. It went through four failed ports where people had started them and then realized that the rio plata (later turns into the rio parana that floods into Rosario where i live) was moving and changing courses or really just way to shallow. So along the plata there are all of these deep harbors cut off by dams from the rio itself.

So far the first comments that i have recieved from people about me being in Argentina is "have you tangoed yet?". The answer is not yet but i have made it to a milonga (tango bar). I went last night but not before i found out that at this particular milonga especially it is "illegal" to enter the dance floor without sufficent tango experience. Again, que triste.

I mention tango again because i did get to see an amazing and famous show saturday night there. Ritzy and flashy and incredibly expensive. It was amazing. We sat at tables jetting out from the stage and i sat in the very front of my table. As a result there were those amazing moments when you think the lead dancer really will let go of his partner and toss her straight into you. In particular there was a very flashy aerobatic couple that made the entire hall gasp because this neon orange haired woman was spinning over her partners´ back so fast she was a blur of orange. It isn´t exactly traditional but it was awesome.

Another random history note: Argentina is named after the silver that the Spanish could not find. Rio Plata (meaning silver or money river) is also similar.

Following came the world´s best tourist trap: La Boca de Buenos Aires. This neighborhood is the "home" of tango in Argentina. And its so tourist oriented that every single shop is a trinket store and every building is bright multicolores. In addition every person working there is dressed to please despite the FREEZING weather. As can be expected from the home of tango, there were two sets of tango couples dancing on the cobblestones for tourist entertainment.

I saw many different places in BA this time and all very different from each other. One last note on BA is that their presidential offices here is called the Casa Rosada (the pink house, similar to the US´s white house).

Here in Rosario its still freezing which is making me rethink my outdoor plans to visit southern pantagonia. Meanwhile i have midterms tomorrow and friday. I really like my teachers here. I have two classes everyday; one for conversation and one for grammer. My conversation teacher is hilarious and i absolutly swear the best teacher i have ever had. She is so open to teaching us anything that we want to learn (in spanish of course).

She tells us how to ask for hot water (essential here because families do not use heat unless absolutly necessary and lights also. So this means despite my room clock saying its 59 degrees F, my family is dressed in sweats and me in my wool full coat and scarfs. Everyday i walk home into a dark house. I feel my way through the garage and then up the stairs. Every other day there is something blocking the stairs so the great big black dog named sasha doesn´t find its way upstairs. Every couple of days i trip over it and my host sister Coti screams from her room where she studies day in and day out "Ojo! Cuidado Haz!" Heat and electricity are expensive.)

My other teacher is grammer. Shes cool too but can be very strict and simultaniously a space cadet. For example, she made us do all of this studying and assignments for a test on friday. I was pumped and ready to go and she walks in without the exam. Then we postpone it until tuesday after BA and after the holiday. She never misses a class. My class and i were like "what?!?". So, we went to the cafe next door and had breakfast together. Lo and behold she shows up the last 10 minutes before we leave to go to our next class. She brought the exam and told us that we had to remake the missed class (as if this was our fault that she forgot we had class). Well, the test went nearly perfect which was a relief to me and the class was held in the downstairs room with two heaters and a fire.

Midterms are now and then in two weeks i finish this session with finals after our trip to Mendoza. Mendoza is at the base of the Alps. It is wnter. I am so looking forward to it.

Host family

When i got to Rosario everyone i talked to about my trip alone in BA couldn´t believe that i was loco enough to do that. My host father, for example, asked me several times if i was safe.

I met my host family yesturday afternoon when my host sister Coti (Cotianza--who is the only daughter living at home) and Jorgina (sp?) came to pick me up. I think Sumi (who knew their family when she was here) showed them a picture of me or something because i remember these two women point at me when i entered the hotel. The thing about Argentines is that all of them are very touchy (kisses on the cheek in greetings) and pats on the shoulders. I was suprised but have gotten used to the affection.

Coti is very nice and very energetic. Jorgina does not live at home but does work at home (her doctor´s office is through a door in the living room). There are two other girls that i haven´t met yet and a son that i have. Rodrigo is my host brother and he is apparently very busy so he doesn´t keep a very regular schedule. My host mother works all day somewhere i never found out where and then comes home to see clients for her homemade clothing. My host father speaks no english and is VERY hard to understand when he speaks to me. Very sweet though. They are all very nice and i am looking forward to talking more with them. The kids speak some english, actually more then i speak spanish, so we are helping each other out.

Tango Backpacker and Empanadas

Tango Backpacker, Hosteling Intl.
Thames y Paraguay 2122
Buenas Aires, Argentina

Travel advisory: "do not stay in hostels in BA, they tend to be unsafe and thefts abundant"

I share a room with three scottish girls my age who use the room like one giant closet which avalanches onto the floor, all over the extra beds and locker tops. I think its safe to take faith that if a theft were to occur in our room, it would be from the girl's things. Who needs to dig through theirs to find my dusty backpack?

So far in my solo exploring of BA i have failed to find the Atlantic Ocean and have been given pity with my empanadas. The Atlantic, i now realize doesn't even touch BA because BA isnt a coastal city like world maps would have you believe, its a river city. Its on a gi-narmus hu-mongus river delta called the rio plata. I think its the largest spanning delta in the world. So, not the Atlantic. Sigh. I found instead miles of manicured parks with couples dancing tango, ponds, subway tunnels illustrated with giant black and white cartoons and the city zoo featuring north american cattle.
Pity and empanadas are my food of choice. The first night i got into BA i found an empanada shop down the block from the hostel. I went in and found an older woman and her two sons cooking up trays of delicious goodness. I was so tired and additionally insecure about ordering anything in spanish that i kind of just stood there at the door open mouthed. I know i looked ridiculous. Finally the woman came out from behind the shop desk and pulled me forward. She asked me where i was from and what i wanted to eat. I ordered a plate of BA style empanadas (every providence has their own special variety unique to their state) with potatos and corned beef. I passed the woman the smallest bill i had, 50 pesos. She looked at it and then at me. Then raised the bill to the light over her head to verify it had a water mark. Apparently it passed and she gave me back a handful of cash. I took my food up to the roof of the hostel, sat under a ledge while it rained and ate. The rain fell down with humid breezes. The view was completly obstructed by taller narrow housing buildings. And everything was covered in an orange haze. Almost an electrifying experience.

The next morning i walked past the empanada shop and the woman ran me down the street. She passed me her buisness card and told me to call her if i needed help while in the country. I wished i still had that.

A buenos aires y beyond

I must admit that when i finally got into the BA terminal and out into the exitting lobby, i was completely unsure what to do. I had been preparing so long for the trip itself that i had not given much thought of what to do once i found myself there. I mean, i knew i was supposed to find a taxi or bus into the city and to my hostel. But how does one flag a taxi with hundreds of people crowding around you in every direction, pushing at you, pulling at you and yelling at you to exchange your money with them and not the official cambio in the corner.
An older man came up to me and asked to help me. I showed him the hostel address and he pulled me towards the great big taxi stand in the middle of the lobby which i somehow didn't realize was there. While i thought at the time he must be very kind in helping me out, he was passed a few pesos from a taxi man for what i assume was attracting business.
The taxi i arranged was an old thin man with a golf hat and no english understanding. Within a few moments we were off and i had already committed two social fobas (sp?); i took the front passenger seat and i buckled my seat belt.

Danielle tells me that spanish cities are "a spanish kind of dirty" which does not imply to mean that they are dirty themselves. I beg to differ, Buenos Aires is quite dirty. And huge. And sprawling out in all directions into a dirty brown haze. From the EZE airport it took over 30 minutes to drive into the Palermo district where i was staying. These minutes were not spent going through fields like i imagined but rather to just cross from barrio to barrio. Everywhere were housing buildings in all states of repair. Along the road many of these were rather just shelters made from plastic tarp and tin sheeting. Crumbled bricks lined unevenly white washed buildings.

Into the newer section of the city we had to pass a toll booth. The driver rolled down his window and presented his ticket. When he reached out, i had a heart attack! The taxi driver's phone rang-- it was the same ring tone and nextel phone model of the RA oncall phone i used. When i didn't wake up and find myself back in ondine with a late night lockout, i came to the harsh realization that i was no longer in Kansas-- i mean home. I was compeletly out of my comfort zone, jetlagged, and unable to communicate. I was at the mercy of a stranger almost 5,000 miles from home. And i was too, all of these things, to care.

Picture is a toll booth but not one in BA.

Airports are funny places...

4,900 miles and 10 hours out of Atlanta, I find myself in Santiago de Chile.

In airports you can find all sorts of people. We have our british couple playing cards stamped with the british flag. And we have the American sore thumbs, or at least I can only assume they are American. The 6 or 7 year old boy is even wearing the family's coordinated outfit: overalls, boots, and red flannel jacket topped with a blazingly white cowboy hat. The daughter wears a sundress and white bonnet, whose purpose I do not understand. Last I checked the window, we were still in winter circled by the snow-capped Andes.
I am not one to talk, I know. I did not pack a coat into my carry on and I am still wearing my little red sandles.

I know everyone is wondering if I speak any spanish and the question is simply... no. When I got into this terminal a man and a woman in blue uniforms stopped me and asked me where I was going--at least thats what i thought i heard. It was just a stream of words and a "a buenos aires" thrown in there somewhere. I nodded and they left me alone. Alone in the terminal with no idea where i was going. I found an escalator with an arrow. When i reached the top, a starbucks banner came into view and right behind that-- a dunkin donuts... and right behind these, the Andes. So, somewhere almost 5,000 miles from home i sit and wait. Sippin' on coffee i procured with hand gestures.