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.