Thursday night Ann and I left for Iguazú. We saw an entirely different region of Argentina. Red dirt roads wind though gorgeous landscapes of infinite shades of green. Rickety cars and trucks kick up clouds of dust that paint everything roadside the same shade of rust. The drastic cilmate change from dry Córdoba in the Central Sierras to super humid, subtropical Iguazú makes me feel sluggish. 22 hours on a bus.
A ride that parts of which I wish I could forget. In the middle of the night while everyone around me was asleep, I woke up to a man standing over me touching my hair. I sit up groggy and confused and after a few minutes of bizarre interaction I realize what his intentions were. He wants me to move to the back of the bus with him. I refuse and tell him to leave me alone. Just as I'm about to scream and wake up the whole bus he finally walks away. I wonder how long he'd been there before I woke up and I lie wide awake for the next four hours. That's nothing compared to some of the disgusting things have been happening to the girls in our group lately. It's getting kind of scary to walk around alone, even in broad daylight. A man I met in India gave me the best travel advice I've ever received. Quite simply, "Do not trust anyone." I'm realizing how true that is.
Why it's worth it: We were sitting at our hostel trying to figure out how to get the waterfalls when I see a tour group that's about to leave. I strike up a conversation with the tour guide and he offers us a lift. So we take off and hike with him for awhile. I asked him about crossing into Brazil, and he tells me that they have gotten a lot stricter than they were. He says that Argentines and Brazillians are allowed to cross without paying so it's best to find someone who has a car with Argentine plates, pay them for a ride over, and hope that we don't get stopped. After thanking the very nice, and very shady tour guide we part ways and hike on our own.
The falls were amazing! ...Amazing is sucha shitty word. It's overused and It doesn't come close to describing it. But I can't think of a word that does describe it so I'll just use amazing. Just go look at the photos on Facebook. Also I have a new video up on YouTube.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YWgZI27uHqo
We hiked the whole day, saw some toucans, coatis, and other animals I never thought I would see outside of the Discovery Channel. We finally ended up on the Island San Martin for the most incredible view. When we got there the place was deserted. Ann and I just stood there completely speechless. What a day.
Dinner that night was merorable. The food was great, best meal I had in a weeks. Until I'm sitting talking to Ann and I'm slowly growing more and more nauseous. I excuse myself and go throw up everything. Food poisoning. I puke for the next 12 hours. However the night was salvaged, after I returned from the bathroom Ann and I had the best conversation I've had in a while. We talked about how crazy it is that we're all thrown together from all over the US, and how different we all are. I think it's so interesting how people present themselves when they're in a new group. What qualities they decide to show first and what things you wont find out about until you've know them for a few weeks. It's like everyone can recreate themselves if they want to, sometimes without realizing it. All of a sudden you're surrounded by people that you have absolutely no past with. I mean, they know nothing about you other than what you tell them. We started guessing what people were like before they got here and what they're trying to prove now. It made us realize a lot about ourselves too. I act tougher than I am.
That night I talk to a cab driver, he offers to take us to Brazil for 100 pesos in an unmarked taxi. After talking with the locals it seems like our chances are about 50-50 of making it there and back with no problems. We decide that we'd rather not waste a whole day waiting at boarder patrol. So we opt to go rappelling on the Argentine side instead, and finish the day by flying down an 800 meter zip line 40 meters high through the jungle. That was a rush!
The next day we grabbed lunch and then headed back to Córdoba. So that was my weekend.
Classes are alright, I'm realizing that when I'm not super busy my time management skills aren't as impressive.
I just got back from horseback riding. It still scares the hell outta me. Next week we're going back up into the mountains. Oye!
Other than that life is good. My birthday is tomorrow. It's feels strange celebrating with people I only met last month. When I think about my life in terms of birthdays it weirds me out. Every birthday over the past 3 years has been so different. Not only the day itself but the point in life that I'm at. Everything has changed so much in such a short time. Age 17: First time I drank with the whole crew at Cafe Hookah in Evanston, and also our last night of summer before senior year. Age 18: I celebrate with only Steve in Ithaca because we didn't know anyone else there yet. Age 19: I celebrate with my mom and my brothers in Ithaca. Age 20: I'm in Argentina and life is crazy. Age 21: Who knows? Might be living in LA. Might be living in Ithaca. Might be in some other random country.
Memorable moments of age 19:
Production managing my second feature length film, when Char and I drunkenly stumbled into a party where we didn't know anyone and started a flip cup tournament, Halloween as Kelly from Saved by the Bell, arriving in Argentina, a few dates, playing landmines at Emily's old apartment, the December from hell when I couldn't breathe, working at Hackney's, seeing Motion City Soundtrack twice, the famous cartoon that Steve drew on me when I passed out, helping start a new film festival, when my mom took us to the south side to see her old neighborhood, watching Tommy go cliff jumping, yelling at an Academy Award nominated director, and then having him thank me for it, the Valentines snow day, listening to my grandma tell stories, the bon fire marshmallow war at Song's, a few break ups, the best New Years Eve and Day I've ever had, producing Meagan's film in Pittsburgh, sleeping on trampolines...yeah I guess you could say it was a good year.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
A little more real.
After receiving a bunch of messages, the general consensus seems to be that yes, I do sound like an asshole, but I should still continue the blog. So yes I will continue, but I'm changing things a bit. Basically when I would sit down to update, I would think of the most interesting, funny, ridiculous shit that happened to me over the past few days and write it out for the reader's amusement. No more.
I'm no longer going to pull the ridiculousness out of my experience. I think that's when I stopped enjoying this, when it started to feel like I was writing for an audience. There have been a ton of amazing lessons that I've learned or experiences that I've had that I didn't write about because I didn't feel that they were entertaining enough. From now on I'm keeping this for me. This blog is my journal, no longer a stage that I feel like I need to perform on. So what you'll get now, is a bit more realistic, more honest, more personal account of this experience in Argentina. Don't worry. There will still be crazy stories, I'm sure.
That being said, here is something that I have been meaning to do, introduce you to my friends. I'm tight with all the exchange students here but here are the key players:
Meet Leah. Leah is all my favorite girls in one. If you combined Brittany and Emily, added a teaspoon of Molly for flavor, and gave her Amy's drinking ability and laugh, you'd have Leah. She's pretty much my partner in crime for everything I do here.
Meet Ann. Ann is my Charlotte. Very zen. Very granola. Completely laid back. Chiller than chill, she's ice cold. Great sense of humor and an excellent conversationalist. Ann plans on marrying a futbol (soccer) star and teaching English in South America.
Meet Brian. Music student. Enough said.
Meet Amy. Amy is super upbeat, energetic, a Harry Potter fanatic, and the most hilarious drunk you will ever meet. During our first interaction she declared that I was "magical" and we've been tight ever since.
I'll probably introduce you to more people later.
The first week of classes has been alright. I'm studying like crazy. For my modern history class I'll read an entire chapter and underline every word that I don't understand in Spanish. Then I'll go look up every single word. This takes forever because usually there's about 90 of them. Then I go through and read the whole chapter again, but this time after I finish each paragraph I jot down all the important concepts and facts in my notebook. This way I am completely sure I understand everything that is going on. Does it take forever? Yes. Is it worth it? Definitely. Why? Because if I ace my classes I don't have to take finals. So? If I don't have to take finals I have an extra week to travel around South America.
A dirgession: I have this little problem. It's called wanderlust. I think about traveling more often than the average male thinks about sex. If I'm not in class chances are I have a map, two guidebooks, and my laptop in front of me and I am researching where I want to go next. It's even started getting in the way of my school work a little. I'll be studying and then I think to myself, 'I wonder how many kilometers Machu Picchu is from Santiago.' And I'll go look it up. I spend hours everyday studying geography and culture and making mental lists of cities I need to visit and things I need to do before I go home. Here's the deal, after November 23rd I'm homeless. But my return flight to the states isn't until mid December. So I'm going to be bumming around Latin America for a good two to three weeks with only what I can carry on my back. I. CAN'T. WAIT. After all my research I've decided that I am going to spend the last of my time on this continent in southern Argentina, Chile, and Peru.
Back to the school thing: My film production class is my hardest one. Right now I already know everything that they are learning, except I don't know it in Spanish. For example, the first day of class we were given a quiz during which we had to define color temperature. I remember the Spanish vocab unit about "food" and "clothes" and of course the classic "rooms of the house." Obviously we never had a unit on "film production equipment and concepts." Therefore I am entirely unable to communicate in this course. But I'm learning. Our first assignment is to adapt Edgar Allan Poe's, "The Tell Tale Heart" into a short film.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am about to do something very taboo. I'm going to talk about my weight. First of all this should not be such a difficult topic for a girl to talk about. But it is, because no matter what you say you come off looking like a bitch. If you say think you're fat, you either sound depressed and overly self-conscious like you're about to become bulimic, or you sound like you're fishing for compliments. If you say you're skinny, you sound completely full of yourself. Fuck it. I'm talking about it.
So I've gained some weight in college. Most of us have, it's not a big deal. I was never really that concerned about it. I mean sure, I could afford to loose a few pounds, tone up, lose that little belly that I've gotten thanks to our buffet style dining halls and my serious lack of self control when it comes to food. But for some reason I just never really cared enough to completely change my habits. Why am I going into all this? Well all of a sudden I kinda care about my weight. OK I really care about my weight. What made me totally self-conscious? I am the fat girl in my classes. The fatest, if you will. Yes, I am using a superlative. The most fat. All the girls here are just straight up and down twigs. No curves in this country. Just skin and bone.
Argentina has huge problems with bulimia and anorexia. A few years ago the Argentine government actually passed a law saying that clothing stores had to carry larger sizes because their refusal to do so was fueling this national psyche that women have to be super thin. In a few of these posts I've mentioned that I didn't bring that much clothing with me because I thought that I would be able to buy a few things when I got here. Not so. The real reason I haven't been able to is because I have yet to find a store that sells anything in my size.
So I'm going to lose weight. Don't worry, I'm not going to be sticking my fingers down my throat, or starving myself, or going on some crazy crash diet where I only drink juice for a month. I'm going about this the healthy way. Good food and exercise. Eating healthy was never a value that my parents instilled in me. When I was in grade school I could seriously eat a bag of Oreos and all the french fries I wanted and not gain an ounce. So I did. Freshman year of high school I was 90 pounds. The problem is when you become an adult your metabolism slows down, but my eating habits didn't change. So I'm finally learning to eat healthy, it's long overdue. I need to stop thinking of food as entertainment. I'll actually think to myself, "I'm bored. I'm gunna go make something to eat." You should eat because it's fuel for your body, not because you have nothing better to do. I should be thinking to myself, "I'm bored. I'm gunna go read a book." I'm cutting way back on the drinking and smoking, eating healthy meals, drinking water, and going to the gym everyday. Done.
Speaking of physical change, to ink or not to ink: I've been thinking about getting a tattoo. Something little. I have two ideas right now but I'm not ready to get them just yet. Tattoos are just so...permanent. I mean, that's something that you are going to take with you to your gave. If you are planning on walking around for the rest of your life with something inked on your body, it better mean a lot to you. I decided the only way I should get a tatoo is if I wait a year or two after I first think of the idea. If it still sounds appealing then it might be worth it.
Pay it forward: The most frustrating thing about learning a new language is that when I talk to local people and they hear the imperfections in my speech they immediately assume that I am stupid and they get frustrated or irritated. The next time you interact with someone that doesn't speak perfect English, no matter how difficult it is to understand them, please please please smile, be patient, and really try to communicate with them. They'll appreciate it more than you could imagine.
Tomorrow I am heading off to Brazil. I'm hoping to sneak across the boarder without having to pay the $100USD entrance fee that they charge American citizens. From all the research I've done it seems like the boarder patrol at Foz de Iguazu is pretty relaxed about tourists crossing over. So Ann and I are hopping on a bus tomorrow night and we'll see if we can make it happen. Wish me luck.
An afterthought: I know that I write in incomplete sentences, and that I change verb tense a lot. And, that, sometimes, I tend to overuse punctuation. For some reason I picture Amy Weiss reading this blog and questioning my use of the semicolon or comma. I know it's wrong, that's just how I write. Love you Amy.
I'm no longer going to pull the ridiculousness out of my experience. I think that's when I stopped enjoying this, when it started to feel like I was writing for an audience. There have been a ton of amazing lessons that I've learned or experiences that I've had that I didn't write about because I didn't feel that they were entertaining enough. From now on I'm keeping this for me. This blog is my journal, no longer a stage that I feel like I need to perform on. So what you'll get now, is a bit more realistic, more honest, more personal account of this experience in Argentina. Don't worry. There will still be crazy stories, I'm sure.
That being said, here is something that I have been meaning to do, introduce you to my friends. I'm tight with all the exchange students here but here are the key players:
Meet Leah. Leah is all my favorite girls in one. If you combined Brittany and Emily, added a teaspoon of Molly for flavor, and gave her Amy's drinking ability and laugh, you'd have Leah. She's pretty much my partner in crime for everything I do here.
Meet Ann. Ann is my Charlotte. Very zen. Very granola. Completely laid back. Chiller than chill, she's ice cold. Great sense of humor and an excellent conversationalist. Ann plans on marrying a futbol (soccer) star and teaching English in South America.
Meet Brian. Music student. Enough said.
Meet Amy. Amy is super upbeat, energetic, a Harry Potter fanatic, and the most hilarious drunk you will ever meet. During our first interaction she declared that I was "magical" and we've been tight ever since.
I'll probably introduce you to more people later.
The first week of classes has been alright. I'm studying like crazy. For my modern history class I'll read an entire chapter and underline every word that I don't understand in Spanish. Then I'll go look up every single word. This takes forever because usually there's about 90 of them. Then I go through and read the whole chapter again, but this time after I finish each paragraph I jot down all the important concepts and facts in my notebook. This way I am completely sure I understand everything that is going on. Does it take forever? Yes. Is it worth it? Definitely. Why? Because if I ace my classes I don't have to take finals. So? If I don't have to take finals I have an extra week to travel around South America.
A dirgession: I have this little problem. It's called wanderlust. I think about traveling more often than the average male thinks about sex. If I'm not in class chances are I have a map, two guidebooks, and my laptop in front of me and I am researching where I want to go next. It's even started getting in the way of my school work a little. I'll be studying and then I think to myself, 'I wonder how many kilometers Machu Picchu is from Santiago.' And I'll go look it up. I spend hours everyday studying geography and culture and making mental lists of cities I need to visit and things I need to do before I go home. Here's the deal, after November 23rd I'm homeless. But my return flight to the states isn't until mid December. So I'm going to be bumming around Latin America for a good two to three weeks with only what I can carry on my back. I. CAN'T. WAIT. After all my research I've decided that I am going to spend the last of my time on this continent in southern Argentina, Chile, and Peru.
Back to the school thing: My film production class is my hardest one. Right now I already know everything that they are learning, except I don't know it in Spanish. For example, the first day of class we were given a quiz during which we had to define color temperature. I remember the Spanish vocab unit about "food" and "clothes" and of course the classic "rooms of the house." Obviously we never had a unit on "film production equipment and concepts." Therefore I am entirely unable to communicate in this course. But I'm learning. Our first assignment is to adapt Edgar Allan Poe's, "The Tell Tale Heart" into a short film.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am about to do something very taboo. I'm going to talk about my weight. First of all this should not be such a difficult topic for a girl to talk about. But it is, because no matter what you say you come off looking like a bitch. If you say think you're fat, you either sound depressed and overly self-conscious like you're about to become bulimic, or you sound like you're fishing for compliments. If you say you're skinny, you sound completely full of yourself. Fuck it. I'm talking about it.
So I've gained some weight in college. Most of us have, it's not a big deal. I was never really that concerned about it. I mean sure, I could afford to loose a few pounds, tone up, lose that little belly that I've gotten thanks to our buffet style dining halls and my serious lack of self control when it comes to food. But for some reason I just never really cared enough to completely change my habits. Why am I going into all this? Well all of a sudden I kinda care about my weight. OK I really care about my weight. What made me totally self-conscious? I am the fat girl in my classes. The fatest, if you will. Yes, I am using a superlative. The most fat. All the girls here are just straight up and down twigs. No curves in this country. Just skin and bone.
Argentina has huge problems with bulimia and anorexia. A few years ago the Argentine government actually passed a law saying that clothing stores had to carry larger sizes because their refusal to do so was fueling this national psyche that women have to be super thin. In a few of these posts I've mentioned that I didn't bring that much clothing with me because I thought that I would be able to buy a few things when I got here. Not so. The real reason I haven't been able to is because I have yet to find a store that sells anything in my size.
So I'm going to lose weight. Don't worry, I'm not going to be sticking my fingers down my throat, or starving myself, or going on some crazy crash diet where I only drink juice for a month. I'm going about this the healthy way. Good food and exercise. Eating healthy was never a value that my parents instilled in me. When I was in grade school I could seriously eat a bag of Oreos and all the french fries I wanted and not gain an ounce. So I did. Freshman year of high school I was 90 pounds. The problem is when you become an adult your metabolism slows down, but my eating habits didn't change. So I'm finally learning to eat healthy, it's long overdue. I need to stop thinking of food as entertainment. I'll actually think to myself, "I'm bored. I'm gunna go make something to eat." You should eat because it's fuel for your body, not because you have nothing better to do. I should be thinking to myself, "I'm bored. I'm gunna go read a book." I'm cutting way back on the drinking and smoking, eating healthy meals, drinking water, and going to the gym everyday. Done.
Speaking of physical change, to ink or not to ink: I've been thinking about getting a tattoo. Something little. I have two ideas right now but I'm not ready to get them just yet. Tattoos are just so...permanent. I mean, that's something that you are going to take with you to your gave. If you are planning on walking around for the rest of your life with something inked on your body, it better mean a lot to you. I decided the only way I should get a tatoo is if I wait a year or two after I first think of the idea. If it still sounds appealing then it might be worth it.
Pay it forward: The most frustrating thing about learning a new language is that when I talk to local people and they hear the imperfections in my speech they immediately assume that I am stupid and they get frustrated or irritated. The next time you interact with someone that doesn't speak perfect English, no matter how difficult it is to understand them, please please please smile, be patient, and really try to communicate with them. They'll appreciate it more than you could imagine.
Tomorrow I am heading off to Brazil. I'm hoping to sneak across the boarder without having to pay the $100USD entrance fee that they charge American citizens. From all the research I've done it seems like the boarder patrol at Foz de Iguazu is pretty relaxed about tourists crossing over. So Ann and I are hopping on a bus tomorrow night and we'll see if we can make it happen. Wish me luck.
An afterthought: I know that I write in incomplete sentences, and that I change verb tense a lot. And, that, sometimes, I tend to overuse punctuation. For some reason I picture Amy Weiss reading this blog and questioning my use of the semicolon or comma. I know it's wrong, that's just how I write. Love you Amy.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Do I sound like an asshole?
I recently reread a few of these posts and I realized that when I write I sound like a douche bag. When ever I post in this thing, I always write how I would tell the story to someone in person. But it doesn't always come off the same when you're reading it. I was actually rolling my eyes at myself when I looked over some of this.
Debating weather or not to continue with the blog.
It's kind of obnoxious to keep a blog in the first place. It's sort of like saying, "My life is soooo interesting that everyone should want to read about it." I actually debated weather or not to even start this thing because I felt like it would come off that way. But then I thought, 'Nah, if one of my good friends was studying abroad I would like to know what's up with them. For example, Amy is leaving for Spain soon. I'd like to know Amy's thoughts on Spain. I'd be interested in her blog if she were to make one.' And thus this blog was started.
I think it's interesting to read your friends' writing. It's a lot more personal. You can get into their head more. But maybe I don't want you in my head. Maybe I should stop publishing this and just keep a journal in a notebook.
On the other hand, I have better conversations with the people back home when they know what I've been up to. It's so much better than when people ask, "So hows Argentina?" What am I supposed to say? "Good." The discussions are more interesting when we talk about the specifics. But then again, there are a bazillion photos on Facebook that can also tell you what I've been up to.
Also, I've been writing in this for me too. It's like my journal to look back on. I know you don't care about the names of all the museums that I visited in Buenos Aires. But I wrote them out because it was part of the experience that I want to remember.
Not sure what to do yet.
Please excuse my shitty writing, and all my spelling errors.
Miss you all,
-Christina
Debating weather or not to continue with the blog.
It's kind of obnoxious to keep a blog in the first place. It's sort of like saying, "My life is soooo interesting that everyone should want to read about it." I actually debated weather or not to even start this thing because I felt like it would come off that way. But then I thought, 'Nah, if one of my good friends was studying abroad I would like to know what's up with them. For example, Amy is leaving for Spain soon. I'd like to know Amy's thoughts on Spain. I'd be interested in her blog if she were to make one.' And thus this blog was started.
I think it's interesting to read your friends' writing. It's a lot more personal. You can get into their head more. But maybe I don't want you in my head. Maybe I should stop publishing this and just keep a journal in a notebook.
On the other hand, I have better conversations with the people back home when they know what I've been up to. It's so much better than when people ask, "So hows Argentina?" What am I supposed to say? "Good." The discussions are more interesting when we talk about the specifics. But then again, there are a bazillion photos on Facebook that can also tell you what I've been up to.
Also, I've been writing in this for me too. It's like my journal to look back on. I know you don't care about the names of all the museums that I visited in Buenos Aires. But I wrote them out because it was part of the experience that I want to remember.
Not sure what to do yet.
Please excuse my shitty writing, and all my spelling errors.
Miss you all,
-Christina
Monday, August 6, 2007
Buenos Aires, Moving, Saying Goodbye
LIfe is crazy as usual.
The final days of classes went well. Lots of studying and partying. I aced my speaking final which was sweet. Wednesday was nuts I had to take a final, move, and then leave for Buenos Aires.
Buenos Aires is amazing. I'm already trying to figure out when I can go back. It's beautiful, busy, rough, loud, and fun. We arrived by bus on Thursday morning, went on a city tour and visited the grave of Evita. Lunch that day, I can say with certainty, was the best meal I've ever had. Next we hit Calle Florida for some shopping and and I bought a leather jacket (I had to Buenos Aires is the leather capital of the world.) That night we got dolled up and went to Che Tango, an old, dark, smoky tango club for dinner and a show. These dancers were beyond words. So hot. As I'm sitting there I think to myself, "I'm sipping red wine, watching a tango show in Buenos Aires. I'm probably the happiest kid alive." We left tipsy and head back to the hotel for more drinks and then hit the bars. Well kind of. I made it through one bar and then had to leave. I guess you could say I was a little drunk. Just a wee bit. I kept my cool though, didn't do anything embarrassing.
Friday was sweet. That morning we went to the Boca field, Boca is one of Buenos Aires's two soccer teams. The Boca neighborhood is the roughest part of Buenos Aires, and honestly my favorite place to hang out. President Bush went to see a game there with his family a few years back and while the Bush daughters were eating lunch outside the stadium (secret service in tow obviously) one of their purses was stolen. Someone was able to sneak past the secret service and steel the President's daughter's bag. That's how crazy the pick-pocketing is here. Regardless, Boca is one of my favorite places on earth. There's just so much history there. The neighborhood is on the water and massive abandoned ships are decaying in the harbor. The outdoor markets are always jammed with people from all over the world, and amateur tango dancers perform for pennies on the streets. I need to go back.
After Boca we hit the Museum of Contemporary Latin American Art. Loved it. We concluded the day's activities at Evita's house. After that we headed back to the hotel for a bottle of wine and a siesta. After a huge dinner we end up at this awesome cafe called Acabar with great food, drinks and most importantly, Jenga. I was still recovering from the night before so I ordered tea. That's right. I went out on a Friday night and ordered tea. I know. It's crazy.
Saturday we went back to the Boca neighborhood to check out another art museum and by this point, I'm museumed out, so I snuck out of the tour and checked out the market down the block. After that a little more shopping and then it was time to catch our flight back to Córdoba. This is where it gets sad.
So a few of the people I am studying abroad with only stayed for this first month, meaning that I had to say goodbye to a few great friends. The whole group of us has spent everyday of the past 4 weeks together, obviously we've all become super close. I mean these guys have really become my family here. Roger, Nicole, Peter, Chris, Tamara, Carmen, and Morgan all left over the past two days. It so strange to be so close with these kids for a month and then at the end of it all be like "Ok, have a nice life."
When I'm bouncing between Glenview and Ithaca, saying goodbye to my friends every few months is a tough but it's not terrible because I know I'm going to see them again. But here, this is goodbye for real. I'm really never going to hang out with most of these people again. I just can't wrap my head around it. It's been hard enough saying goodbye to just a few people after a month, I can't even imagine what it's going to be like at the end of the semester. It's really gunna hurt.
Back in Córdoba: Saturday was my first real day in my new place. It's a super tiny little apartment but the building is awesome. We have a pool, a mini cafe, and an asado (a giant place to hold bar-be-ques) plus a few other lounge areas. My roommate is super sweet. Her name is Arianna, she's a law student. And get this, she likes to bake. I know. I totally lucked out. Saturday night was Tamara's and Nicole's last night. We went out for dinner, hit up El Contendor, one of my favorite bars, and then went to a club.
Sunday I posted about 700 photos on Facebook. That was my weekend.
Lost in Translation: I meant to call a buddy of mine a gentleman the other day and I accidentally called him a horse.
Tid Bits:
Writing this post in English was really difficult. I kept starting my sentences in Spanish and having to go back and change them. I'm thinking of what I want to say in Spanish and translating it into English.
I love talking to cab drivers. In the past two days I had one cab driver who taught us how to say slut, and then invited my buddy Brian to a gay bar, and another who started preaching to me about why I should be Christian.
Tomorrow I start classes my classes with Argentine students.
I miss peanut butter and jelly.
The final days of classes went well. Lots of studying and partying. I aced my speaking final which was sweet. Wednesday was nuts I had to take a final, move, and then leave for Buenos Aires.
Buenos Aires is amazing. I'm already trying to figure out when I can go back. It's beautiful, busy, rough, loud, and fun. We arrived by bus on Thursday morning, went on a city tour and visited the grave of Evita. Lunch that day, I can say with certainty, was the best meal I've ever had. Next we hit Calle Florida for some shopping and and I bought a leather jacket (I had to Buenos Aires is the leather capital of the world.) That night we got dolled up and went to Che Tango, an old, dark, smoky tango club for dinner and a show. These dancers were beyond words. So hot. As I'm sitting there I think to myself, "I'm sipping red wine, watching a tango show in Buenos Aires. I'm probably the happiest kid alive." We left tipsy and head back to the hotel for more drinks and then hit the bars. Well kind of. I made it through one bar and then had to leave. I guess you could say I was a little drunk. Just a wee bit. I kept my cool though, didn't do anything embarrassing.
Friday was sweet. That morning we went to the Boca field, Boca is one of Buenos Aires's two soccer teams. The Boca neighborhood is the roughest part of Buenos Aires, and honestly my favorite place to hang out. President Bush went to see a game there with his family a few years back and while the Bush daughters were eating lunch outside the stadium (secret service in tow obviously) one of their purses was stolen. Someone was able to sneak past the secret service and steel the President's daughter's bag. That's how crazy the pick-pocketing is here. Regardless, Boca is one of my favorite places on earth. There's just so much history there. The neighborhood is on the water and massive abandoned ships are decaying in the harbor. The outdoor markets are always jammed with people from all over the world, and amateur tango dancers perform for pennies on the streets. I need to go back.
After Boca we hit the Museum of Contemporary Latin American Art. Loved it. We concluded the day's activities at Evita's house. After that we headed back to the hotel for a bottle of wine and a siesta. After a huge dinner we end up at this awesome cafe called Acabar with great food, drinks and most importantly, Jenga. I was still recovering from the night before so I ordered tea. That's right. I went out on a Friday night and ordered tea. I know. It's crazy.
Saturday we went back to the Boca neighborhood to check out another art museum and by this point, I'm museumed out, so I snuck out of the tour and checked out the market down the block. After that a little more shopping and then it was time to catch our flight back to Córdoba. This is where it gets sad.
So a few of the people I am studying abroad with only stayed for this first month, meaning that I had to say goodbye to a few great friends. The whole group of us has spent everyday of the past 4 weeks together, obviously we've all become super close. I mean these guys have really become my family here. Roger, Nicole, Peter, Chris, Tamara, Carmen, and Morgan all left over the past two days. It so strange to be so close with these kids for a month and then at the end of it all be like "Ok, have a nice life."
When I'm bouncing between Glenview and Ithaca, saying goodbye to my friends every few months is a tough but it's not terrible because I know I'm going to see them again. But here, this is goodbye for real. I'm really never going to hang out with most of these people again. I just can't wrap my head around it. It's been hard enough saying goodbye to just a few people after a month, I can't even imagine what it's going to be like at the end of the semester. It's really gunna hurt.
Back in Córdoba: Saturday was my first real day in my new place. It's a super tiny little apartment but the building is awesome. We have a pool, a mini cafe, and an asado (a giant place to hold bar-be-ques) plus a few other lounge areas. My roommate is super sweet. Her name is Arianna, she's a law student. And get this, she likes to bake. I know. I totally lucked out. Saturday night was Tamara's and Nicole's last night. We went out for dinner, hit up El Contendor, one of my favorite bars, and then went to a club.
Sunday I posted about 700 photos on Facebook. That was my weekend.
Lost in Translation: I meant to call a buddy of mine a gentleman the other day and I accidentally called him a horse.
Tid Bits:
Writing this post in English was really difficult. I kept starting my sentences in Spanish and having to go back and change them. I'm thinking of what I want to say in Spanish and translating it into English.
I love talking to cab drivers. In the past two days I had one cab driver who taught us how to say slut, and then invited my buddy Brian to a gay bar, and another who started preaching to me about why I should be Christian.
Tomorrow I start classes my classes with Argentine students.
I miss peanut butter and jelly.
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