bird x's blog

friends and I in RIO DE JANIERO spring breakin' it!

I came here thinking I would write in my journal. I even brought a brand new journal just for Argentina, but I never even opened it. I started with the excuse that I wanted to buy a pretty one from here. But then that never happened either. I failed at journaling while abroad. But I don’t feel as bad about it because I had this class. Through the topics that we discussed and wrote about, I feel that I reflected on some good thoughts that I had here that maybe I wouldn’t have journaled about in the first place. I feel that I have a good keepsake from this class. It was awesome to have to sit down and reflect on my life abroad. I am so glad that I have this.

I cannot believe that it is over. I go home in four days and don’t really know what to do about that. I haven’t done a thing to get ready, nor do I want to start. I absolutely hate packing. I don’t want to believe that I am leaving (even though I am slightly excited to go home). I have had the most amazing four months. It was probably the fastest semester of my life. I am so grateful for everything that I have done and seen here. This entire semester has been so perfect. I would say the hardest thing would have been adjusting to the semi-annoying-for-an-American-inefficiency of Latin America. But honestly, I even transitioned to all of those tidbits quite smoothly as well. I got used to my shower curtain falling and hitting me on the head. I got used to the slow motion world around me. I got used to walking with my head down to dodge the constant dog sh*t. I just loved it. I absolutely loved my time abroad. I am completely content with my semester. I made amazing friends. I traveled to some places that all compete with being the most beautiful place I have ever been. I learned Spanish and bonded with the most amazing host family. I guess the worst part is that while bonding over food and drinks with everyone, I got fat. My b.

As much as I love it here, I am getting kind of ready to go home. I don’t like that it is 80 degrees out when I am listening to Christmas music (not the same as my home in the snowy mountains). I’m sick of looking like I have chicken pox because all of my millions of mosquito bites swell up. I am so ready to eat a freaking turkey sandwich for once and not have to look at ham for a good month. And most importantly, I am SOO ready to go home to my bed. The one thing I never liked here in Argentina was my lame ass bed. It didn’t even dent when I would jump on it. The sucker is rock hard.

I know that when I go home, I will get the age-old question: how was it? And you know, that most people asking, are just looking for conversation and a quick sum up answer. But how the h*ll are we supposed to sum up the most amazing semester of your life into a sentence?! “It was amazing!” I will respond. They will smile. End of conversation. No one will ever really know quite how my life in Buenos Aires was besides everyone else here that went through it with me. That is one thing that I will always have with the fifty other students here: a special bond of experience and understanding. We will all always have these past four months together. And unless someone wants to take me to coffee to REALLY know how my semester was, then no one will know much of anything besides that it was “so amazing”.

besos,

bird x

an Argentine gaucho

Bit of advice number one: STUDY ABROAD. It does not matter how long you do it for or even where you go, just do it! Studying abroad is one of the most valuable, eye-opening experiences of a person’s life. The second most important piece of advice is to hold no expectations. You will be let down. Everyone’s imagination romanticizes places, situations, etc. Wherever you go, it won’t be the same as dreamland. Just go into the situation without looking back. And go into with two feet. Don’t leave part of you behind at home, otherwise you will have the hardest time adjusting and adapting to your new home. It will almost be impossible. Have no inhibitions. Try everything once because who knows when you will ever have that chance again. It is always good to go out of your shell once in a while. Everything is a learning experience; thus, have no regrets…

As for Argentina…

1. Try to make Argentine friends. I didn’t really make many. I wish I had.
2. Speak Spanish as much as you can. Don’t be embarrassed. Just dooo it.
3. Live in a homestay. Almost everybody does. You may get the crap end of the draw, but you can change families. Living with a foreign family makes you grateful for your own family, upbringing etc. It also gives you another home in another country…that’s awesome.
4. Bring a watch or an alarm clock. They have no clocks here.
5. See as much art as you can. Latin American art is amazing.
6. Walk around Palermo SOHO. I guess you could maybe say it has a West Village feel to it.
7. Go to the San Telmo street market on Sundays. It is a good experience.
8. Monday nights at the Konex there is a 20 man improve drum show. AWESOME.
9. Tuesday nights go to Jobs. That’s a good Tuesday night spot with pool tables, foosball, board games, and might I add, archery.
10. Eat at Bar 6, Bar Uriarte, and Don Julio.
11. Bring your own peanut-butter because they don’t have that here.
12. Learn to take naps because you will die without them here.
13. Have a good pair of walking shoes because the sidewalks are terrible.
14. The money situation here is awful.
    
    1. They have a shortage of change. Hoard it.
    2. It is difficult to break a 100. Try to keep a lot of small bills on you at all times. A lot of places take only cash, but they never have change to give back to you.
    3. Watch out for fake money.
15. There is dog poop everywhere. Watch out!
16. The cab situation is funky here. They say to always call one, but I managed safely until now. Use your best judgment. Some are fake cabs. Try to at least always take a Radio Taxi (the main brand).
17. Be patient. EVERYTHING is slow here and somewhat inefficient.
18. Try a steak. They are the best here.
19. Go to an estancia. They are beautiful.
20. Try to see a soccer game. It is such a cultural experience.
21. Eat bonbons (the candy).
22. Try matte (the tea)
23. And lastly, drink as much Malbec (red wine) as you can. It is so amazing and CHEAP. Take advantage while you can.
24. ENJOY

the fam in patagonia

I figured since Thanksgiving in Argentina could not be remotely similar to Thanksgiving in the states that I might as well go for the extreme. My family had arrived the morning before, so I knew I had to plan something for them for Thanksgiving. So I invited my entire host family to come to dinner with my family, and we all went and ate at one of the best parilla restaurants in Buenos Aires (parilla is typical Argentine barbeque with a whole lot of red meat!!). The ten of us sat down at a long table and scattered ourselves out. My family doesn’t speak a lick of Spanish, and my host mom knows MINIMAL English, but we all managed to get by a 2.5 hour dinner together. Since we were feasting Argentine style, we went all out. For appetizers, we order chorizo (an Argentine specialty sausage), salads, and melted cheese blocks. For dinner, everyone besides my mom (who is vegetarian) had a big hunk of meat on his or her plate. And clearly, everyone was sipping on tasty Malbec (the best wine ever). Our meal definitely didn’t compare to a perfectly roasted turkey with gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans, biscuits, and pies, but it was unique and so perfect for the moment. My family is all about new traditions and breaking the old. They loved it. My host mom loved the idea of Thanksgiving, a day in which family and friends come together to feast and celebrate everything we are thankful for. So we all sat around the table after we finished dinner and each person said what they were thankful for. Translations were being thrown across the room at every statement, but no matter what language was being spoken, everyone’s hearts were touched. My host mom Marina hugged and kissed my mom telling her how much she loved me and how happy she is to have me in her home. I responded stating how thankful I was to have two great mothers. Everyone was thankful to be in the room together sharing the moment. It was so great to have my family together with my host family on Thanksgiving. It was really special. When we got home from dinner, Marina kept telling me how much she loves Thanksgiving and that she is so happy to have celebrated it for her first time. It was my first time eating steak on turkey day, and it was her first time going around a table saying what they are thankful for. There is a first for everything.

The rest of the weekend I went to Patagonia with my family. We stayed in a remote hotel with only ten rooms in it in the middle of nowhere. It was on a turquoise lake in the windy mountains. We had the most amazing weekend hiking and riding horses in the solitude of the Argentine mountains. We definitely made the most of our Thanksgiving weekend taking advantage of everything around us and diving into the Argentine culture. 

who needs a suitcase to travel?

Every morning at 9:57 my dinky cell phone plays a little jingle to wake me up from my sweaty sleep in a stuffy room. I always hit snooze twice, so at 10:03 I roll out of bed to get dressed in the dark as my roommate continues to sleep. I have the routine down. I open up one shutter to get dressed, close it, and then proceed to open another shutter on the other side of the room to eat breakfast. I pick and choose what books I feel like carrying to school that day (I always try to carry as few things as possible). I grab my i-pod and start rocking out down the streets on my 30-minute walk to school. I zig-zag my way to Avenida Charcas and remain on that street the rest of the way to school. I walk down that street to and from school everyday. I couldn’t tell you a single store name on that street. I have clearly lost what De Botton calls the “travel mindset.” After my first stroll down Charcas, I stopped noticing the small details. I no longer paid attention to the people drinking coffee at the cafes or the flowers and fruits being sold along the street. My main focus quickly became what song should I listen to next as I get to school AS FAST AS I CAN.

I like the “travel mindset” theory. “The notion that the pleasure we derive from a journey may be more dependent on the mind-set we travel with than on the destination we travel to,” describes De Botton. I find this very true. If I wanted, I could take a walk down my driveway and notice things in nature that I had never noticed before. I could be entranced by my own land if I wanted to. Yet I always zoom through to get somewhere, either home or elsewhere. De Botton suggests that a travel mindset could consist of being receptive. I could find as many interesting things walking from my bed to the front door of my host family’s apartment as walking down Charcas street depending on how receptive and open my mind was. If I was in an explorative mode, anywhere could be foreign.

Departure day is in less than three weeks. I need to bring myself back to my original mindset that I had upon arrival in Buenos Aires. I can only be a tourist here for so much longer. I need to stop taking it all for granted as I storm to and from class. I want to continue to see and do as much as I can before I go, whether it is walking more slowly around the city or visiting museums. My time here is all up to me. I can either breeze through it or take the time to smell the roses. 

beatriz!!

I enjoy Spanish class so much more on Wednesdays and Thursdays rather than the first two days of the week. We have two teachers that share the four days, and as much as I like them both, the latter of two just wins the cake. Waking up everyday to go to two hours of Spanish gets quite annoying, but whenever Beatriz comes dancing in, she makes it just a little bit more bearable. Her petite little body ranking in around 5 feet always come bursting through the door with crazy shoes on, mostly high heels. If we ever comment on them, she always clicks her heels together stating she already knows how cute they are. Her short dark “European-trendy” styled hair fits her persona perfectly. So do her snaggled teeth and lip-sticked smile.

“En Espanol, POR FAVOR!” she always snaps back when we start telling stories in English, which is almost always. Yet, she likes to throw in the trendy English words into conversation herself. Beatriz laughs at everything. She mocks everyone’s accents until we get it right. She slurs her “vosotros” conjugations in a Spain-Spanish speaking way to mock their accent. And if someone ever answers in English, she claps at them to show how proud she is that they know how to speak English. Her second favorite comeback is to say that she has no money to pay us for teaching her English, but since our parents already paid her, we should speak Spanish.

Beatriz is such a light-hearted 45 year-old. She fits into my images of the typical Argentine. First of all, she loves to have fun and be goofy. Whenever we play games in class, whoever loses has to do something for punishment, which usually ends up with someone dancing and singing along to the Spice Girls. Second of all, Beatriz LOVES meat. Whenever the class discusses food, which is quite often, Beatriz always throws her arms back in description of how much she loves red meat. She always wants to chow down on a bone. Third of all, Beatriz likes to dance. Just in our last class, we were all standing in a circle singing a new song we had just learned while Beatriz taught us some tango moves. And last but not least, Beatriz is lenient in a laidback way. My class always hopes that the test days fall on Wednesday or Thursday just to get a little help from Beatriz. My best friend basically takes his entire test standing at her desk. And she always lets us postpone homework and quizzes. She has become one of my favorite characters in Buenos Aires. I will always remember little Beatriz in Argentina, and I have my Spanish skills to thank her for. 

the gnomes

An old open-aired piano sat on the cobblestone street under the Argentine sun. It was accompanied by a 20-something year old banging on its beaten keys. He was also accompanied by 6 others that were playing away on violins and xylophones. In harmony they created perfect beats in a tango-ish tune. Blocks away, dreadlocked amigos sat on the street corner drums in hand. A completely different beat flooded the street. Yet, another block away a rock band sang a Beatles song. Every Sunday at San Telmo there is a two mile long street fair compacting hundreds of diverse people into a skinny cobblestone strip. Looking over it from the end of the fair you can see a swarm of hundreds of moving heads far into the distance.

The items being sold vary from antique trinkets to hand woven sweaters. One end of the fair resembles a second-hand vintage store. Old dresses and shoes line the streets, but so do buttons, hooks, sunglasses, and radios from the nineties. Further along the strip, leather belts and bags are sold, an Argentina specialty. Fur hats and coats seem a bit ridiculous in the streets, but many ladies still buy them anyways. Racks of leather jackets are on the corners. The jewelry is amazing. It is so bright and exotic. There are many woven necklaces and bracelets. The ring assortment is insane: spoons, wired and beaded, buttoned, and jeweled. Photographs and paintings color the street. Argentine CD’s are laid out for the curious tourists. Every type of matte (a typical Argentine tea) gourds are at your reach. And for some odd reason, gnomes are a big hit. Many hand-crafted gnomes dressed in various outfits are for sale on every block.

As you manage to stroll your way down the extremely busy street, you come across the culture of Argentina in a day. All the locals come together to sell their goods and hang out with their friends. Medialunas and empanadas are being sold along the street. Orange juice is being squeezed right before your eyes. Music fills every block. Tango dancers pose for pictures. Art galleries are situated behind the booths. It is full of commotion and chaos, yet is delightfully relaxed and laidback, just as the Argentine approach to life. Today I walked out of San Telmo empty handed, but with a day full of experience. You do not need to buy a single item. Just the experience of La Fiera is all you need. 

cell phone: necessity or luxury?Technology. It makes life so simple and easy. Yet it is also overwhelming at times in that maybe it makes things too easy. In my standard lifestyle in the US, I almost always left the house with my cell phone. People could always contact me whenever they wanted, either through texting or calling. Regardless if I’d answer or not, their message would be made. And most importantly, I could always contact someone if I wanted. I could even text google to find out directions and phone numbers. I could take pictures with it. My cell phone became my gadget, my right hand man. Instead of a luxury, it became a necessity.

It took my dad forever to get a cell phone. He never wanted to be able to be reached by people at all times. He thought that if he was in his car, or away from a phone, that that was his time to not be interrupted and simply live his life. But the rest of us always thought it was annoying because when we needed him, we could barely get a hold of him. I have now gotten in touch with his philosophy. In Argentina, I have the dinkiest crappiest cell phone ever. I never use it. It almost never leaves my room. I maybe charge it once a week. I use it more as an alarm clock than a phone. I have grown accustomed to being free, and I love it. I love not being reliant on my cell phone. I love that no one can get a hold of me whenever they want. The ball is always in my court. I don’t wear a watch, so I never know what time it is. Time limits don’t exist anymore. I never know the date. I don’t want to see my progressive count-down to going home. I have let go of the world of technology for a while and I love it. Free as a bird…or so I thought.

This weekend I was thrown back into my American reality. I started to think of my phone again as a necessity, and I hated not having it. I found out that my best friend was hospitalized for 36 hours, and I had no way to contact him. During his last college soccer game of the season, his own goalie kneed him in the face, breaking his jaw in two spots. He had to stay two nights in the hospital and receive a four hour surgery to screw his jaw in place and wire his mouth shut. He can’t talk. He can’t eat. He can’t open his mouth for 6 weeks. Sounds like the worst bone in the world to break. I had no way to be contacted about it all. He couldn’t call me when he was out. He couldn’t text me to tell me he was okay. I felt so helpless and alone. All I wanted to do was contact him and tell him how sorry I was. But I couldn’t. I wanted to be reassured about how he was doing. But he couldn’t. I wanted him to know I was thinking about him. But he doesn’t. It was the worst feeling in the world. I just wanted my tiny ol’ cell phone to send a text message, and to see one pop back up in my screen. I hated that I couldn’t be contacted. I hated that I couldn’t contact.

So now I find myself in a debacle. Is it really that great to be free as a bird? After all, technology was advanced for a reason. Maybe it is nice to be contacted and to contact at the ease of just pushing a few buttons. Cell phones do come in handy, especially in emergencies. So maybe it won’t be the end of the world to go back to a cell phone when I go home. I will just have to find a balance where I’m not obsessively attached to a gadget, yet I am accessible when needed. My friends and I came to a conclusion that right now there is the perfect amount of technology in the world. That life has been made easy enough, and we don’t necessarily need anything else. We live in a good time of moderation. We can’t take it all for granted, but we can’t let it take over us either.

the teacherWalking down the streets of Buenos Aires, I see an array of skin colors, hair colors, heights, etc. Based upon these observations, it would be difficult to create a stereotype of what the typical Argentine person looks like. The people of Buenos Aires call themselves Porteños because they are people of the port. Their ancestors came from all over Europe and Africa, with mass amounts from Spain and Italy. Perhaps it is from all of this European influence that Buenos Aires is famously nicknamed the “Paris of Latin America.” Argentina has always tried to overcome this illusion that it is European. The great Argentine author Jorge Borges describes Argentina as a “land of exiles,” a place in which Europeans came to prosper. Yet, Argentina is one of the most paradoxical nations of Latin America in that it used to be one of the richest nations in the world but entered the twenty-first century with its economy in shambles and a legacy of corruption and dictatorship. The Argentina Reader: History, Culture, Politics by Gabriela Nouzeilles and Garciela Montaldo provides a rich insight into the complex history of Argentina.

The 536-page book is useful for anyone, student or traveler, that has the desire to learn about the Argentine history and culture. It is a collection of poems, songs, short stories, articles and essays that help paint a picture to describe the rocky road the Argentina has come down. The Argentina Reader covers important historical topics such as Argentina’s independence from Spain, its rapid economic growth, dictatorships, military regimes, and the much talked about Peronism. But it also touches on topics such as guachos (cowboys) and sports. Most of the pieces are from Argentine authors, and it even includes excerpts from Juan Peron, Jorge Borges, and Julio Cortazar.

This book more or less represents the classes I am taking here in Buenos Aires all wrapped up in one. It discusses the politics that I am learning in my Latin American Democracy and Dictatorship class, and it also covers the human rights issues such as the disappearances of the Dirty War that my journalism class focuses on. I have enjoyed reading many of the excerpts and stories. I find it interesting learning about the backdrops to the places that I am visiting while here. Many times, I just look breeze through a town without knowing a single bit of information or history about it. I have enjoyed reading this book along my travels. It is almost like I am taking a one man class where the book is my teacher and I am the student traveling around Argentina taking it all in with some first hand experience.

Me and Raphael at our reunionI am writing this staring at the date on my computer. It is November 2nd. NOVEMBER 2nd!!!! As in, my time here is over halfway done. And so is yours! Where the hell did October go?! That was probably the fastest month of my life, as is this semester. These past two months have been down right amazing. I honestly think that studying abroad is such an important experience of life, and I would advocate for everyone to do it. It is such a refreshing break from reality. My friends and I just returned from Spring Break in Brazil. On the plane ride home, we were complaining about going back to school and the real world. Then we laughed at ourselves for how ridiculous we were being. Life in Buenos Aires is nothing close to the real world. It has been nothing but the most magical moments of our lives, a permanent four-month vacation.

For the past month, most of my program has been traveling around every weekend leading up to a week long break. In the midst of all my travels, I realized how little I have seen of my own city. Even though we aren’t technically traveling while home in Buenos Aires, it still seems like a vacation. We are surrounded by lots of new people, a new culture, all kinds of new foods, a new language, and a HUGE new city. I feel like I have barely conquered Buenos Aires. In a sense, everyday feels like spring break. My parents are coming in three weeks, and I am stressing because I feel that I don’t know enough about my own city to share with them. But yet I do know enough. I know my favorite empanada place, my favorite bar, my favorite restaurant, and all the places that I now call home. Just like in New York City, I get absorbed in a little bubble of my familiarities and locations that are in my daily life. I too, now have a bubble in Buenos Aires, and I find this really special. It is more unique than visiting a city and having visited the top 10 tourist sites. It is yours based on your experiences.

Studying abroad teaches you so many things on all different levels. Not only does it teach you the history of a new city and country, but it also teaches you so much about yourself. I have learned how to detach myself from technology. I have learned that I don’t need everything that I think I do. I have learned to live simply. I have also learned about what I need out of other people, and what I can do on my own. Even in the times of darkness, you learn. This is a lesson I learned four years ago when I studied abroad for one year in Italy when I was 16. I had a lot of difficulties, but I came out with a strong head on my shoulders. I learned how to throw myself out of my comfort zone in the most awkward situations and to just be. A lot of my old lessons have come in handy while living here. And I only hope that what everyone else is learning will do the same for them for the rest of their lives.

While in Brazil, I had the chance to meet up with a friend that I met in Italy. He is Brazilian and studied abroad in Sicily too. We had not seen each other since we left Italy. We discussed the importance of studying abroad, the lessons that we learned, the experiences that we had, etc. We both realized how we had this wonderful connection that will never break due to the fact that we shared such an important time of our lives together. I hadn’t seen him in for years, but it felt like just yesterday. I know that the friends that I have made while living in Buenos Aires will always have an impact on my life, having been there for such an amazing time. That one year will live on forever in me, just as this semester. I cannot believe that I only have six weeks left. Yet, I must look at it optimistically that I still do have six weeks left to do whatever I want! I look forward to the experiences yet to come and the lessons that I will learn from them. Cheers to everyone for putting themselves out there and taking a plunge. 

Whitefish, Montana

I was raised in a small tourist town in the mountains of Montana. Every summer and winter, the streets would suddenly become swarmed with Canadians and Californians and all of those in between. I watch the tourists cruise Main Street and hit the ski slopes of the “authentic western town.” I always wondered what it would be like to be a tourist in my small town and what it would be like to drive up to a town that has only four traffic lights, one main street with shops, and plenty of restaurants and bars with a slight western, small town feel. To an outsider, my town looks almost like “Pleasantville” filled with gorgeous outdoor activities. Yet, as perfect as it seems, it only gets better. All of the hidden secrets of the valley are the best. A tourist may go to the local lake for a swim, but they don’t know that twenty minutes away there is an even warmer lake that is more secluded with perfect cliff jumping cliffs. Tourists don’t know the perfect rivers to float down in the summer, nor do they know the best out-of-bounds powder runs on the mountain. The tourists lack the knowledge of the “authentic gems” of Whitefish, Montana. Hence, Montana’s slogan is “the last best secret.”

I always keep that in mind whenever I visit somewhere, especially when I don’t like the place. When I find myself bored in a new environment, I always remind myself that there has to be some good things to the place. People do live there for a reason. With that in mind, I try to get a local mindset in my head and venture in the direction that the locals point me towards. I want to find their best kept secret. I normally ask their favorite place to eat because there will always be the restaurants that appeal to the tourist crowd, but the dingier ones without the in your face decorations on the walls normally have the best surprises. Plus, it is fun to try to find new favorite dishes, and the most acclaimed dishes of the town. Food always leaves a lasting memory in my mind. I like to watch the people interact with each other while I’m eating. When you see familiar faces greet each other, it gives me a sense of community. People watching, in my mind, is one of the best ways to the back region. The way people dress, the language they use, the gestures that come with it, and topics of conversation all show me a sense of authentic location. I feel as if I am apart of the scene. I do not need to see the break room of a restaurant where all the actors of the show are relaxing and letting loose. I want to see the people that are not pretending to be putting on the show, the ones that have nothing to do with it. To me that is where the true story lies. As I sat people watching at a small café in Buenos Aires, I couldn’t help but think about what tourists think of when they people watch in Whitefish.