Los viejos

I have to write a post about the elderly people here, los viejos. 
They are awesome. There is huge respect for them. The best example I can give is on the buses. There is no question that when an elderly person gets on the bus, you get up and offer your seat...SIEMPRE (always). It gets to the point that one elderly person will off their seat to another and they bicker, not over trying to take the seat but insisting the other take it.
I know people in the states do this but it seems more prominent here. Maybe because they haven't all moved to Florida for the weather? Maybe because they use public transit more? Maybe I just didn't notice when I was home? Whatever the reason, I know I dig it and will definitely be bringing this back with me.
When I get lost and need directions, I usually turn to a vieja, since I figure it slightly lessens my chances of getting mugged. They are so helpful. Actually, the are too helpful. After giving me the directions, and I've said okay, gracias, entiendo, they just keep going. Telling me the same thing again, adding new things. It's really nice that they want to be sure I've got it but now I know to only ask if I really need the help or I've got 20 minutes to spare.
It's not just the viejos, they just exemplify it best, that show such a strong sense of respect. Almost everyone crosses themselves when passing a church; people on the street; your cab driver; people on the bus. You'll mainly see the elderly people do it but it's sweet when you see the young tattooed guy do it as well.

Este es el famoso River,

el famoso River Plate!
This past weekend I decided it was time to do one of the most important things in South American culture; I had to go to a futbol (soccer) game and cheer until my voice grew hoarse.
With my three yanqui (Yankee, aka American) amigas, we walked to the River stadium. The two major teams in Buenos Aires are the red, black and white River Plate and their rivals the yellow and blue Boca Juniors. These teams are such extreme rivals Boca asked CocaCola to not paint the label in the traditional red and white colors because they want absolutely no affiliation with River.
We made our way through the sea of fans in red, white, and black. Heads turned at the four American girls, not just because we stand out- we're used to that- but because we weren't decked head to toe in CARP (club atletico de River Plate- Athletic club of River Plate) gear. With no idea of how to buy our tickets, we asked one of the few families we saw. I usually turn to a mom or elderly lady for help when stuck about directions or the like. They told us to ask one of the seguridad (security), and by security I mean the massive guys in bullet proof vests, complete with riot helmets and batons.
I asked the guard where we should go to purchase tickets. He said they weren't any and we should turn to someone on the street. I figure if I can buy soccer tickets off a scalper, I can handle anything South America throws at me. We picked one scalper out of the sea of many, bought our tickets, and crossed our fingers they were real. With over half an hour to kill before the gates opened, we headed to the supermercado (supermarket) to buy some beer. The entire alcohol section of the store was roped off with tarps! We asked some guys if we could buy beer anywhere near by and they just laughed, saying nowhere near the stadium would be selling booze of any kind. Turns out these fans are so intense that drinking is prohibited to prevent riots and deaths. Needless to say, after learning this information we definitely needed some cervezas (beer). We booked it over to barrio chino (chinatown) and bought some liters.
With a little bit of liquid courage, we were ready to go. We walked through security and looked for where to go next. We stood in what we thought was the right line for our seat section. I noticed the line had a fair amount of women, children, and families which made me feel assured we wouldn't be dying in a riot. Except that wasn't our line. The line we were supposed to be in was entirely men between ages 16-45, mas o menos (more or less). The adrenaline was beginning to pump through my body a little bit faster now. After we got through this security line, which involved a thorough pat down that would put TSA to shame, we simply followed the masses since we had no idea where to go. After two more security lines and pat downs, we were finally in the stadium. There were three stairways we could choose to head up to the seats. A security guard saw us trying to decide which one we were supposed to go to and advised us to pick the one on the right. We shrugged our shoulders, sent our tickets through the machine- they were real!- and hiked up the stairs.
There isn't any assigned seating so we picked a spot smack in the middle and got ready for one of the best nights I've had in Argentina. While the other team was warming up, everyone was whistling which confused us at first but then we realized it's their version of booing. Unfortunately, none of us are particularly  strong whistlers, but we sure as hell tried, despite how ridiculous we looked.  When River came onto the field, it was like a bomb had exploded. Everyone was on their feet, a marching band started up in the section next to ours, the whole stadium started singing in unison, and people were bouncing and jumping. This wasn't just for the opening either. This continued for the entire game. I've decided that watching sports in the States is going to seem so lackluster and almost dull in comparison. We realized why we were recommended to take the stairs on the right. If we had gone up either of the other stairs, we would have been smack in the middle of what my friend dubbed "riot central". And if our tickets were for the other section, we would have been in the family zone which was a little less chaotic. Although we were completely winging it, it seemed to work out perfectly. We got to be in the middle of the excitement without the potential for dying.
Best part of the game was when River scored, and scored, and scored. Madness broke out for each goal. And there were five! River won 5-0. After the game was over, no one moved. We tried to leave but the exit was blocked. We couldn't figure out why until we noticed the other team's fan section was empty. Regardless of whether River wins or loses, the fans of the other team need a good head start to get out of the way of the River fans.
This was one of the BEST experiences I've had here, especially because it wasn't a touristy activity. Actually, it's recommended that tourists don't go because it gets so intense. I was proud that not only did we go but that we managed it successfully without knowing what we were getting into. It was great to do something only true locals do. You could feel the fans passion in the air. I like sipping a beer at a baseball game as much as the next guy, but I think I'd rather watch the game the Argentine way- drunk off excitement and emotion.

No te olvido!

I haven't forgotten about my blog, te juro (I swear)! I've just been very busy DOING things that I haven't had a chance to write about them. Personally, I'm okay with making more experiences rather than writing about only a few but I'm going to spend the next week updating on those many great experiences I've had in the past month. Albeit, things will come a bit out of order but they will come! My first step is to upload hundreds of photos to my computer and sort through them so I can use some in my posts. Stay tuned for the updates!
Saludos! (cheers!)

Besos y Zapi!

I'm officially acostumbrada (accustomed) to the porteño way of saying hello and goodbye. Even if you are meeting someone for the first time, the polite thing to do is give them a beso (kiss). Not a full smack on the lips, just the side-cheek-brush. Like the French do, except only once instead of twice. My first side-cheek-brush happened when my site director picked me up from the airport. I was too enthralled with the idea I had just landed in Argentina to notice. It happened again when I walked into the door of my house to meet the dueño de la casa (landlord) and many more times my first day here as I met everyone. I was usually a second or two behind on the lean in and sometimes got concerned as to why someone's face was headed so close to mine. Slowly but surely I was picking up on it. But it isn't just for hello; it's also goodbye. And when you leave somewhere you have to say goodbye to every single person, even if you are at a party. That's a lot of besos. Now my natural inclination is to go in for the kiss, American friends included! I think I'll have some explaining to do when I get back to the States.
I'm also getting used to Argentine Spanish. I thought I'd have an advantage by studying abroad in a country where I had studied and relatively spoke the language. Unfortunately, I didn't take into account that Argentines have an accent that's even harder to decipher than the Bar-th-lona E-th-paña lisp. In the Argentine Spanish, or should I say Caste-sh-ano, the double L's make a sha sounds instead of the silent Y sound most Spanish speakers are used to. For example, it isn't amar-Y-o (amarillo=yellow), it's amari-SH-o and it's not e-Y-a (ella=she), it's e-SH-a.  I knew this before I arrived in BsAs but when someone starts speaking to you and the sha is coming on strong, you start to lose the years of Spanish you studied.
There's also Lunfardo. Just when I think I was getting a grasp on things, they throw me a curve ball. Lunfardo is a slang that came around in the 1900's in the poorer barrios (neighborhoods) of Buenos Aires and is still in use today all over the country. Most tango songs incorporate at least a little lunfardo into the lyrics, which turned it into a phenomenon in the country that values tango more than oxygen. Lunfardo works by reversing syllables of words. Tango becomes gotan, pizza becomes zapi, and cafe con leche (coffee with milk) becomes feca con chele.
Some advice I'll give out that has taken me far: if the besos, caste-SH-ano, and lunfardo slang become too much for you, just smile and say dale (it means okay or good, but porteños use it for EVERYTHING). No one will be the wiser.

¡Besos! 

The Porteña Diet

I worried that while living in a country that thrives off of steak, red wine, steak, pasta, steak, alfajores (chocolate cookie), and steak I might put on a bit of weight during my time in Buenos Aires. Everyone here, however, is flaca (thin) and I'm not entirely sure it's due to excessive hours at the gym. What I have discovered is the porteña (person from Buenos Aires) diet and workout plan. If you are going to indulge in the wonderful food this city has to offer, then you also must eat and act like a porteña in other ways. You can have the riquisimo asado (delicious grilled meat) for dinner, which won't be until 10 pm, but you also have to have the traditional Argentine breakfast, which is next to nothing. Breakfast here is coffee or tea and possibly a medialuna (croissant) or piece of fruit. The day is then filled with maté, maté, maté (a bitter green tea that also acts as an appetite suppresser), at least one pack of cigarettes and possibly a quick lunch. Your workout regime will include walking absolutely everywhere and a once or twice weekly night dancing at the boliche (club) until 7 or 8 am.
If you're going to eat like a porteña, you're going have to act like one too. Don't worry, the steak is completamente vale la pena (completely worth it).
You only live once and your cholesterol levels aren't that important, right?

niños

I don't know what it is but kids are 1000 times cuter when they are speaking Spanish. I know it's their native language and not a big deal but it melts my heart just the same.
The public school kids also have the coolest uniform. They all wear these white smocks that strongly resemble lab coats and make them look like little scientists! A law was passed that all students must wear the uniform over their everyday clothes to create a sense of equality amongst a variety of classes and economic backgrounds. There are, of course, kids who go to private school and wear a different uniform, which kind of counters this whole equality thing. Still, the baby scientists are pretty cute! I would take a picture but I don't want to alarm any parents that I'm stalking their children. Here is one from the internet:

When I was on a colectivo (bus) in Salta, there was the sweetest nine year old girl sitting with her family across from me. She spent the majority of the bus ride looking over with curiosity as my yanqui (yankee- aka American) friends and I were chatting in English. We smiled and waved which caused her to grin as she dove into the safety of her mother's arms. Her parents asked if I would take a picture of them on their phone. I happily obliged only to then be asked if she could take a picture WITH us! How could we say anything but claro! (of course!) to such a request. My face will forever be preserved on the phone of a random Argentine father.

I'm just a sucker for the Argentine chiquitos (little kids)! As much as I desperately want my children to be raised with as many languages possible, I may have to deny them the opportunity because I swear if my kid said "mamá, quiero más postres por favor" (mommy, I want more dessert please), he'd get diabetes from all the sugar I'd give him.

Must be that mountain air...

A week ago, I was in one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen, Salta, Argentina. A quick 20 hour bus ride to the northern part of Argentina resulted in a relaxing and inspiring 5 day mini vacation. I went with 4 girls, also studying abroad at UB, from California, Florida, and Tennessee. They are all very accustomed to the great outdoors. This city girl, however, is not. Our trip was filled with hikes, lakes, mountains, salt flats, streams, and trees, all of which were exhilaratingly exciting for me. Even the small town of Salta was something new.

After getting off of the bus, we were in desperate need to stretch our legs. Walking around the small town was very different from walking around the bustling Buenos Aires. No one was in a rush or even jaywalking! Being a group of 5 tall, white, english speakers warranted us a look of surprise from nearly everyone. While sitting at a cafe (cafe culture remains strong, even in the smaller parts of Argentina), a father walked by with his two sons. He heard our english and stopped to chat, explaining his son is learning English. We tried to chat with the kid but he was a little too shy to get out more than his name and age. His father was the one really dominating the conversation, which ended up being in Spanglish. Quite often people are excited to meet English speakers and love the practice but we want to practice our Spanish, creating the eclectic Spanglish that I love so much. In Buenos Aires, you'll still find people excited to practice their English but it is less common that heads will turn when they hear it, as they did in Salta. Even though we spent most of our time exploring outside of the town, what we did see was the sense of the small town community. The park was filled with what seemed like all of Salta on Monday, a federal holiday. We couldn't buy food for dinner on Sunday night because everything is closed on Sundays. There was a very strong sense of the Catholic tradition with churches everywhere. When we didn't have enough monedas (coins) for the bus, this sweet old woman used her transit card to swipe us. We of course gave her the amount in billetes (bills), although she tried to refuse. We thanked her profousily to which she replied "No, gracias a Dios" (No, thanks to God) and pointed upward. It's the little things that count. 

Lit up church tower

The next day we took an excursion with a tour guide company to go up the mountains and into the salt flats. This is one thing I'm not soon to forget. I could see salt for miles. In photos it looks like snow, but rest assured, it's salt. The bus driver recommended we buy coca leaves during one of our pit stops. He explained that chewing on them would prevent and alleviate any symptoms from being at such a high altitude. I think we were laughing too hard to actually know whether they worked or not. In the following days we went to Dique Cabra Corral and San Lorenzo, both of which took my breath away. Dique Cabra Corral was this enormous lake in the middle of the mountains that was just spectacular. The other girls found just as beautiful but they're used to seeing something like it. I was in awe. Same went for San Lorenzo, a tiny town outside of Salta. We took the bus and walked through the town early in the morning, before anyone else was there. We found this stream and nature reserve that were stunning. Simply walking around, taking in the view, and sitting to read in the sun made me feel motivated about life. Our last day, we took a hike up the cerra (hill) in Salta. 1,070 steps that followed the stations of the cross to provide us with an amazing view of the city. A cable car goes up from the center of town to the same point but the view was better when we worked for it. Plus, we wanted to get some exercise in before sitting on the bus for another 20 hours. Our hike up was guided by a stray dog who decided to join us and our hike down was accompanied by four others. Two dogs walked with us in San Lorenzo as well. Both times the dogs appeared out of nowhere, walked with us, stopped when we did and in the same manner in which they arrived, they disappeared. It's silly but it felt nice to have the companionship and gave us a sense of being guided in the right direction. 

This trip really made me embrace the idea of "MAKE IT COUNT" and I plan to live by that throughout the rest of my time here and at home as well. I may be living in the city but there is still so much to explore and see, people to meet, conversations to have, and inspiration to find.

salt flats!

San Lorenzo: Feel, Live, Enjoy the Nature

Dique Cabra Corral

our tour guides in San Lorenzo

Hiking buddy

What a view!

made it to the top! 

Even more hiking buddies!

Loud thunder and drums, and the potential for a nature adventure..

Hola!
It has been raining on and off this week and I have got to say, this is the LOUDEST thunder I have ever heard. The whole house rattles! The bi-polar weather reminds me of New Orleans because Sunday and Monday were beautifully sunny and today has just been dark, dreary, and WET! Although I came to Buenos Aires in the middle of winter, I had not yet been expecting the rain. I was prepared to handle cold weather, even if I disagree with it, but not for bleak, cloudy days and torrential downpours. Trying to find the silver lining amongst these many clouds, I have come to a positive conclusion. If I can enjoy myself here despite the terrible weather then I know I am doing great. I have S.A.D. (seasonal affected disorder) which means lack of sunshine means lack of endorphins for me. It's difficult for me to stay motivated and positive when the weather gets gloomy. The weather hasn't been quite optimal but I haven't let it get me down. This is one of those lessons that I hope will follow me back to the U.S. If I can make it in a foreign country on a continent where I knew no one prior to arrival during a gloomy winter, then I can make it anywhere! (albeit, I might have to swim...)

Anoche (last night), my friends and I went to La Bomba de Tiempo which was one of the coolest things I have yet to experience in my life. I say experience because, despite this being a drum circle, it wasn't about hearing the beats. I could feel them pulsating from the floor into my body and making my heart pound almost as hard as the drummer's hands. I watched the drummers grin and I could see the reflection of happiness in their souls. It truly was one of those kinds of experiences that makes you talk about seeing souls. I know I'm going back there several times before returning to the states.

My friends and I had to change our plans last minute from going to Salta (Northern Argentina) next weekend to this weekend, meaning we leave the day after tomorrow! I'm not entirely sure what we'll be doing there but I'm so excited to go explore a part of Argentina outside of BsAs. As much as I love this city, I'm anxious to go beyond city limits for the first time and see what the rest of this enormous country holds. As a born, raised, and continue to be city girl, going to see some mountains and just be in nature for 5 days seems a bit scary. But, like I said in my previous post, I've decided it's time I see something beyond concrete. And this is WAY beyond concrete but I think I can handle it.
LET THE TRAVEL ADVENTURE BEGIN!

besos (kisses)
Alden

coffee, conversation, and city

Hola from Buenos Aires!
 I've been here for 3 weeks and 4 days and have decided it is time to begin blogging about my new life and the adventures that ensue. I was resisting the idea of a blog for my time here because between my journal, twitter, facebook, and skype, I felt that I would be spending more time relaying my memories than making them. While my journal is for my reflection, this blog will be for others to hear about my life here because it is very different than anything I've done before. Better to begin late than not at all!

Cafe Culture
I love the cafe culture here! It is more than normal to meet up with a friend, or sit by yourself, at a cafe for a quick cup of coffee. But that's the catch. It's not a quick cup of coffee. You can sit for hours even if you get only one cup. The waitress won't bother you or even check on you. If you want the cuenta (check), you'll have to ask for it. Today, I sat outside with my friend Jackie at a cafe for almost 4 hours. We chatted, enjoyed the sunshine, did homework, and even gained some wisdom from our sugar packets. 

Some people drown in a glass of water and other drink the water and sell the glass. 

There are many worlds and we are in this one. 

The snail walks slowly but he's got his own house. 

It's so pleasant to be able to enjoy your time alone or with your friend and not feel any kind of rush at all. My time here is just like the cafe culture- free of rush and full of the simple enjoyment. For one of the first times in my life, I don't have a job or obligation. I do have classes and homework but that is such a small fraction of what I can do with my time. Just as the porteños (name for people from Buenos Aires) sit in the cafe and take the time to enjoy their coffee, conversation, and city, I plan to enjoy my time here by taking it all in, simplicity included. I admire the ability to take the time to relax in the middle of such a bustling city.

The Same But Different
It has only been three weeks but I can already feel myself changing. Not a monumental change but the little things that make up a person. I'm learning lessons here that aren't simply about South America or cultural differences but rather small details about myself. For example, I've spent my entire life in a city. I went from D.C. to New Orleans to Buenos Aires. While that is the same about me, and may appear that I'm sticking to what I know, Buenos Aires is a world different than NOLA or D.C. I'm living on my own for the first time in my life. I can't cook but I'm learning little by little due to necessity. There is no jet lag here as it is only one hour ahead of eastern time but there is a different schedule that has adjusted my internal clock. For instance, dinner is at 10 p.m. most nights and no one goes to boliches (clubs) until 3 a.m. and they don't leave until around 7 a.m. Most people only get 5 hours of sleep, with maybe a short siesta (nap/rest) during the day. Thanks to maté (herbal, strongly caffeinated, bitter tea), which is consumed on an almost hourly basis, no one is even tired the next day. Breakfast is not the most important meal of the day here either. Breakfast hardly exists. Though the delicious asado (grilled steak) from the night before will probably keep you full until lunch. These are the little things that make me realize the customs I'm used to. Without the reference point of experiencing other customs, I wouldn't even know my own.
I have a lot of free time to think, whether in my room, walking mi barrio (my neighborhood), or riding the colectivo/bondi (bus) to school. Before coming here, I never gave myself enough time for myself, to just think things through. Studying abroad is about self-discovery. Some things I have learned come from the other students in my program. The students from Tennessee, California, and Florida see this city much differently than I do because just the city-living is a huge change for them, not just the South American aspect.