I made it all the way to Machu Picchu only to realize I had left my camera's memory chip in Buenos Aires

Time has flown since my last post about my ill-fated trip to montevideo. Because I feel like I may have been a bit too negative and because I would rather do anything than my Castellano homework, I thought a new blog post would be a nice thing to work on.
Highlights from the last 3 weeks of my life:

1. Melanie's visit, which included Beauty and the Beast on their form of broadway

Skydiving!





Two day trip to Bariloche in Patagonia. Heaven on earth.



loving having ten days of straight up sister time. do it.

2. Machu Picchu:
Katherine took lots of pictures, ones I plan to post as soon as I figure out how to work a flashdrive and get them from her computer.
Words cannot describe. I fell in love with Peru. Their culture, their sweet smiles, and pure spanish. Machu Picchu was a world away from everything I've known. It took Katherine and I an entire day to travel there, a day that included every form of transportation possible outside of a donkey. Exhausted but excited, we hiked Huayna Picchu, the mountain overlooking Machu Picchu, collected Machu Picchu passport stamps and took pictures with llamas and their droppings.

3. Discovering chocolate peanut butter ice cream:
Thank. You. Lord.
In a country where dark chocolate and peanut butter are two of the hardest things to come by, I couldn't believe the combo!
Discovered it is best eaten while watching back to back episodes of glee illegally online. Finn, Marry me.

4. A journey to Salta and Jujuy, the northwest of Argentina.
My friend Nick, also a fellow sconnie, and I decided to spend our time off of school from the national holiday backpacking in the rainforest like northern part of argentina.


Thank you national park Calilegua, we did enjoy our stage







Nick and I explored the salt flats of Jujuy, tried and do not reccommend llama jerky, finally located the national park (3 days after we had intended)and dominated it with salami and cheese sandwhiches for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Low lights would include staying in two of the shitties hostels I've ever experienced in my life, which I will forever blame nick for, and brushing my hair with a fork because I decided that I didn't need to pack a hairbrush.

Things I'm really looking forward to:
1. Excitement over the world cup here.
2. Michaela! Michaela! Michaela!

Montevideo; Uruguay's armpit.

My study abroad program sponsors different activities for students to do throughout the semester. The lastest was a field trip to Colonia, Uruguay where the director of my program, Mario, and his do-rag wearing partner, Sergio, hosted us for an afternoon at their gorgeous bed and breakfast. We spent the afternoon strolling through Mario's lemon grove and eating asado, argentine bbq. Mario poured the wine while Sergio scolded us for eating from the fruit platter before eating our steak - apparently that is NOT how an asado is eaten. My apologies, Sergio, let's put this behind us, your do-rag and tight t- shirt have me wishing you were my gay friend forever. After a night tour through the cobblestone streets of Colonia, I was feeling excited aobut having a break from busy Buenos Aires.

Mario and Sergio's B&B


Mario was reppin Wisconsin on our trip - and you know that I was too, to the embaressment of my peers. whatevs.




Since we were already in Uruguay, My friend Katherine and I decided to take a bus to Uruguay's capital city, Montevideo.
Like Singapore to Malaysia (Michaela and Paul), as soon as we stepped off the bus in dirty Montevideo, shit hit the fan.
If the Asian men following and hollering at us through the city's main square or the perpetual smell of urine weren't enough to convince me that montevideo was nast, Katheirne being mugged by a gang of 8 year old boys in broad daylight pushed me over the edge.
Katherine chased little Juan Carlos and Co. down, though, after they had ripped the leather strap of her purse off of her shoulder. Her long legs and crazed eyes had the hoodlems wishing they had never been born. They tossed her purse to the side of the street and scattered. Katherine grabbed her bag containing all of her belongings back, and rejoined me silently on the street. Neither of us knowing what to say or how to feel after she had just rocked getting mugged - by 8 year olds.....
The rest of the afternoon and evening passed according to Montevideo manner, sketchy - including piropos (catcalls) from the bartender at the restaurant we had dinner at. umm?? we're in your restaurant...
We arrived two hours early to catch our bus back to Colonia the next morning.
Montevideo, see you never.


Mallory and Katherine, pre Montevideo

Dear Melanie

As an ode to my sister's upcoming visit, I've decided to create a blog post type letter, if you will, to let her know just what it is that she's gotten herself in to.
Melanie, baby girl:

1. I've stolen your identity. sorry. Apparently "Melanie" is easier to pronounce than "Mallory" in Argentina. My conversations with new aqcuaintances usually go like this:
Como te llamas?
Mallory
Melanie?
No, Mallory.
Melanie?
Mal.... yup, Melanie, perfect.
If Dad and Grandma Peggy don't know the difference, why would my spanish teacher?

2. Despite the fact that I have been here for 6 weeks, I still have no idea what I'm doing. I average 4 pretty embaressing things a day. Latest one? Not washing the fruit I ate and getting sick for the third time this month while I was out running. I had 3 construction workers laughing at me as I barged past them to use their port-a-potty.

3. They eat beef the way we eat chicken, wine and beer are both cheaper than water, and that's mayo that they brought you with your bread, not butter.
In fact, that's mayo that they brought you with everything you ordered.
Their concept of a vegetable is potato puree and you´ll be hard pressed to find something that they don´t eat with Dulce de Leche, their form of carmel.
My lastest purchase was Dulce de Leche Oreos, and that´s just the begining, my friend.

4. Please bring me the biggest jar of peanut butter you can find.

5. It´s winter here, pack a longleeve shirt

6. If you think you hear Glee or Mama Mia coming from the next room, you do, compliments of the CD I made for Mirta.

7. We now share a bathroom with our host brother who just got back from his vaction in California. He has longer hair than you, so a smart woman gets her behind in the shower before he does or risks bathing in agua fria. This lesson was learned the hard way. twice.

8. Foam party todos los viernes y sabados. It´s so wrong, but so right.

9. I miss you and love you and can´t wait to have you here!

La Semana Santa

To my delight, Argentina celebrates Easter starting on holy Thursday. To take advantage of the time off of class, I headed to El Calafate and El Chalten for some Glacier sightseeing and Mountain trekking in Patagonia. Two fellow Sconnies, Dan and Zach and our friend Emily and I headed for the South of South America where we had the chance to experience some of the greatest things of our lives.

El Calafate: Known for its access to glacier Perrito Moreno, one of the largest glaciers left on Earth (and still growing!). We met up with two of our friends from the program and spent the first half of our trip glacier loving and drinking cheap wine.





El Chalten: After a 3 hour bus ride, we arrived in El Chalten. Here we spent 3 days trekking and camping at the base of Mount Fitz Roy. For anyone who knows how much of a baby I am when it comes to the cold, you would not believe that I actually slept on the mountain in a tent in close to 0 degree whether. I did it in 8 layers and a hat, but nevertheless, I think I've made progress on conquering the cold!




This is the mountain we slept by! Our second morning, we got up to hike to the best viewing point to watch the sunrise.


Wanda, let the good times roll.


View of the town of El Chalten

The smell of comfort

Everyone has a smell. That's how it works. You know you're rockin the right smell when you can't smell yourself. If you can, something's up.
I can smell myself, and I am not diggin it.
To my new friends in Argentina: this is not how I smell, please come find me in July after my clothes have been laundered in Diane's laundry room and my hair has been washed with brillian brunette, a shampoo the Argentines apparently aren't feeling in their farmacitys.
After four weeks in Buenos Aires, I still don't fit in. That's ok, I don't think four years here would make my freckles and pale skin blend with the natives. I have, however, come to rely on a few things here that offer a sense of familiarity and comfort in a city as giant and eclectic as Buenos Aires. The first being that the kids from my study abroad program have inflitrated the streets. So, while most of the time I am anonymous, occasionally I'll be surprised with a "hey Mallory" on the street from a fellow study abroad-er. These brief encounters are nice in helping me remember that I'm not the only one struggling to manage all of this change at once.
Aside from gringo encounters in the barrio (neighborhood) I've found many points of familiarity and routine in a run I like to take though the city most days of the week:
2 miles into my run, I can count on seeing a man manuevering his brother in a wheelchair through traffic, asking for money. I know I'm half way when I pass a hamburger and sausage stand that smells like summer bbqs in minnesota(again, the smell....). I know I'm almost done when I pass the museum of fine arts. No run is ever complete without accidentally stepping in dog shit, and having a few close calls with colliding into pigeons.
When I'm finally done, I can't smell myself. My pheromones seem to have taken over the foreign laundry detergent smell, and I'm grateful.

University of Buenos Aires

Classes! eek!
I thought registering for classes on Madison's student center was tough, before I came here, where the concept of efficiency seems to have been lost. A two week "shopping" period started this last week, we can try whatever classes we want and then choose the ones we want to keep. Problem: You spend more time high tailing it across the city to the different campuses of the 4 universities we can take classes through than you do "trying" classes. Problem: Making it to the campus on time is one thing, finding the classroom is another. Problem: When you do make it to the right room on the right campus, the professor probably isn't going to show up.
Amount of classes I tried to try this last week: 5
Amount of classes I sat through: 2
Amount of those classs I'm going to take: 1
Hopefully next week's shopping period will be a bit more successful?
The class I did like is at the university of buenos aires (UBA), their goverment funded school with more than 100,000 students. The buildings are spread across the city, but each one looks like the other: A scary hell hole. A huge contrast to the two other smaller private schools that I had tried a class at. The first time I walked into an UBA building, I just about threw up from how nervous and vulnerable I felt. It's not scary in a dangerous way, but scary in a "I'm so lost right now" way. Students swarmed around me, graffitti painted the walls. Broken desks and doors and missing professors define UBA's atmosphere. wow. this will be an experience. If nothing else, it makes me appreciate my own public university at home, where a classroom without a.c. is considered torture.

Taller de Radio (My class at UBA)
This last tuesday was my second attempt to take a clss at UBA, the first one was met with no professor and a confused classroom. My teacher walked in 30 minutes late to a two hour class, but surprised me with her readiness and determination to tackle the semester's material. We even got a syllabus!
My teacher immediately pointed me out "ahh we have a foreigner, ok, great... now break up into groups of 5, unless you have the foreigner, then you need 6 because she doesn't know what's going on." The rest of the class she kept pushing my group members to make sure I knew what was going on. I would have felt offended, if I wasn't so grateful to have the extra help in such a huge place.
When I left the classroom, I was met by a girl from my class, Clementina. She stopped me with a "hey". I looked at her confused. She ignored my facial expression and continued in english:
"I know this must be hard for you, I'm Clementina, if there is anything you need, let me know."
Wow. Would I have done that for a foreigner at Madison? Probably not.

Tigre, San Telmo, and Iguazu

A few highlights from the last two weekends:

1. A day trip to Tigre, a town about an hour from Buenos Aires where sunbathing and river rides were enjoyed by all.

2. A day in San Telmo, a town south of my neighborhood that has a more traditional buenos aires feel and their own version of an arts fair. I also discovered Volta, gelato better than I've ever had in my life. In fact, while I was eating it, I was thinking that it deserved it's own post.

3. IGUAZU FALLS!!
My friend Katherine and I flew to Iguazu falls this last weekend and spent the last 3 days exploring the national park and waterfalls. I had my first hostel experience in Iguazu, which included meeting loads of hard core travelers, making friends with a few irish peeps, and swooning over all of the different accents around us.

"We're not in Minnesota anymore"

An exact quote from the lady who came to our orientation to give the US embassy security briefing. However, because I am so situationally aware (not), I happened to notice I wasn't in Minnesota two weeks ago when I was given banana for dessert, and then again when a stray dog licked my face while I was trying to sunbathe in the park - but I think this lady's point was less about getting used to having to eat mayo on my potatoes and more about getting our shit together so that we don't get mugged or assaulted. So, after shannon (whom I will resent forever) scared the shit out of us, our ten days of orientation concluded, and we were sent to manage buenos aires on our own.

It's 11:30pm and I'm sweating!

I'm also sunburned! It is finally starting to sink in that I'm actually in Buenos Aires. I've been so overwhlemed by all of the adjusting that I've hardly had the time to stop and think about the fact that I'm actually here....and I love it! Our ten days of orientation are almost over and classes will start within the next two weeks. Although I'm anxious to see what things will really be like, I'm content with spending afternoon breaks in the park and eating empenadas and tortas like it's my job. Before I left, I was talking with my older sister about taking classes through Argentine Universities with Argentine students and all Michaela had to say was,
"Mal, you're going to crap yourself when you sit down to the first day of classes, it's going to be so funny." Probably not for me, thanks.

This last weekend some friends from the program and I adapted to Argentine lifestyle by taking on a parrilla, their version of a steakhouse. We had steaks the size of our head and four bottles of wine for $15/person. How does that work!? We stayed out dancing until 7am, the sun was literally shining through my bedroom windows as I was getting into bed! The crazy thing was that as we walked down the streets back to our houses, the clubs were still bumping. There was also a line at Burger King out the door, apparently BK is Argentina's equivalent to Ian's pizza?

Sunday I spent the day completing a photo assignment by wandering around an art fair that they have every saturday and sunday in my neighborhood, one of the coolest things ever. The art fair reminded me of Madison's farmers market, Latino style.




This is the same park that I had initially ran through and loved. The fact that it has this farmer's market type fair only reaffirms why it is so freakin' sweet.



I also looked around the cemetary near my house where they buried alot of important people in Argentine history, including Eva Peron.

Two new additions to my list of favorite interactions have been with:
1. The two Swiss travelers that have moved into my house for 15 days, they speak 5 different languages, including english, so we eat our dinner together and bond over our trouble understanding Mirta.
2. My doorman, Alfredo, is. the. shit. He is this cute little man with a mustache that smiles and unlocks the apartment building door for me each afternoon. After taking note of the fact that I often leave the apartment to go running, he stopped me today on my way back in with a little card of information about the Argentine running club that meets every monday, wednesday, and friday near the park by my house. Alfredo, let's join the running club together and be best friends forever.

Poco a Poco

Little by little, step by step.
1. I finally got my local cell phone to work by taking it to the company's store and explaining to them (in spanish!) what was wrong, why, and what I needed to do.
2. I acquired an adapter and charged this bad boy right back up.
3. I located on a map and then in person the most beautiful park I've ever seen in my life. no exaggeration. It was JUST like in a movie or a painting. When I got to the park, the entrance had a man in a black suit with a big hat sweetly playing the guitar. As I ran past him, there were two lovers sitting on a bench to my right, a women feeding pigeons to my left and next to her was an old man sleeping on another bench. Kids were running around playing and friends were picnicing. Seriously, from a movie.
4. My first successful collectivo ride!!!!


bus # 152 to Avenida Sucre. All bah mah self! Como una Portena.

5. My first legitimate night out to the bars in Buenos Aires where I made some new friends from my program and mingled with a group of australians. If I hadn't realized it before, I know it now... I am a sucker for their accents.

While these small personal triumphs have made me feel more comfortable in Argentina, I have felt even more empowered through simple yet significant interactions with the people here. Three of particular importance to me have been:

1. During my first dinner with my house sister, she took my salad plate that had accumulated a small puddle of balsamic from my accidental overdose of dressing, asked if I minded, and poured it over her own pile of lettuce. That. was. awesome. I loved how informally and comfortably she helped herself to my dirty plate. This sounds kind of odd and gross but it made the initial boundaries between two strangers disappear.

2. Dario, my guia T guide and a professor for the study abroad program is one of the finest people I've ever seen. I shamefully admit to a bashful giggle every time I have to address him. I feel like I'm in fifth grade again, swooning over Jonathon Taylor Thomas. Scratch that, I feel like I'm a freshman in college again, swooing over David Archuleta.

3. This last one is my favorite. My ongoing conversations with the brazilian woman that works for Mirta. After 8 years of hosting students, the novelty of having a foreigner around has worn off for Mirta and her family, but not for her. I don't know how to spell or pronounce her name, or else I would, but the way she excitedly engages me in warm coversation makes me feel right at home. She looks like Aurelia, the Portugese woman from Love Actually and I imagine our realtionship to be like the one Aurelia has with Colin Firth but in a non-sexual way, if that makes any sense at all.


Aurelia wishes me luck every morning when I leave for school.

Disorientation

After a disgruntling first day on Monday, I was looking forward to our orientation scheduled for the next day, to see a few other helpless faces. When I returned from orientation at 7:30 Tuesday night, I felt more lost and frustrated than I had when I left the house at 9am. The day was beyond long, filled with spanish everyone else seemed to understand and awkward freshman-like greetings. Although it was well organized, a room full of 180 people trying to figure out what is going on begs confusion. We had an afternoon lesson on how to utilize "La guia T", the guide to the subway and bus stations. As Dario (prounounced darEEo and NOT dario - mind you, I found this out the embaressing way) patiently attempted to explain which streets crossed each other and how to look up the right bus or "collectivo" to take, I wanted to pull a Billy Madison on his ass by throwing my guia freakin' T at him and screaming "I hate school and I hate all of you, I'm never coming back".

When I got home, I met my house sister, Mili, for the first time. She is a kindergarden teacher in the city. Mirta, Mili, and I ate dinner together. Mili complimented my spanish. Mirta laughed.

Later, I retreated to the tv/computer room, where Mirta started to rattle off DVD recommendations from their collection. She came across phantom of the opera and stopped. Es mi favorita, me encanta la musica! For the first time all day, relief washed over me. Common ground! Mirta likes to geek out to musicals, too! She just about crapped herself when I told her I had the soundtrack on my ipod. She asked me to burn her a cd.



Little does she know, she'll be receiving more than she bargained for with her new cd. Hairspray, mama mia, wicked!? shabooya!

I'm hungry and I don't know what to do

My first blog from Buenos Aires!
I have made it safely to Avenida Santa Fe, my new home for the next 4 1/2 months. I feel like I've spent so much time talking about and anticipating this trip that it's weird to actually be here. The travel went smoothly, despite a minor panic attack in Atlanta's airport, waiting to board my flight. My stomach knotted with nerves. The feeling has yet to pass.
My new home is a posh little apartment, where I have a room with two window/doors looking out on to Avenida Santa Fe. It's Thunderstorming here right now, apparently very unusual for February in Argentina. I'm grateful. I love Thunderstorms.






I've spent the afternoon getting to know my house mom, Mirta. Firecracker! She speaks no english - which I think will be good for me - but she also is quite strict about the rules in her house and I think she's frustrated that I can't really understand.
I think I already got yelled at for not closing the bathroom door properly after I was finished brushing my teeth. I can't be sure though. oops.
I can tell I have alot to learn not only about their language, but about their culture as well.
Mirta sat me down at the kitchen table, we both did our best to manage a conversation. She chain smoked 3 cigarrettes while telling me about her family, I smiled politely, only catching every 3rd word, and using "como?" more than I wanted to.
When I asked her if I could go exploring, she was excited that I wanted to get a feel for the neighborhood. Mirta gave me a 5 minute saftey speech. When she finished, she asked if I understood. "entiendes?"
"ummm... mas o menos?" I replied
Mirta grabbed my hand witih one of hers and she put the other to my face.
"ohhh pobrecita"
This is going to be rough......

So, like a true American, I put on my nikes, jorts, and tie dyed shirt and wanderded aimlessly along the streets of Buenos Aires. The trek helped me orient myself a little bit, but I have a feeling I'll be getting lost quite frequently, it's in my nature.

I finish this blog entry with my initial problem solved. After waking up from a nap really hungry, I realized I didn't know the house etiquette for food and meal times. Is it rude to ask for food? Is she serving a meal soon? Should I just secretly sneak a snack in my room? No, don't do that. Mirta interrupted my thoughts by offering me coffee and cookies. crisis averted. for now, anyways. Regardless, I'm finding that one of the biggest adjustments is going to be living in someone else's home and not feeling the liberty to be as presumptuous as I would like. I'll get over it. Despite a few intial adjustment issues, my first impression of Buenos Aires is wonderful!
The weather is perfectly humid and sticky, the fresh rain makes me smile, and the bustling city is definitely what I was hoping for.

Besos!


An outing to Ted's Bar - (woo woo Roseville!) the night before I left.
Miss you guys already.

Bridesmaid dress!

After months of looking accompanied by surges of panic that she would never find "the right one", my older sister Michaela has chosen a bridesmaid dress for her August wedding! Our quest began in August with a few fun appointments at different bridal boutiques, Michaela didn't like anything we found, everything was too "brides-maidey". go figure. Finally, after a Saturday afternoon of 3 bridesmaid dress appointments at 3 different places where I can honestly say I tried on over 50 dresses, Michaela has chosen a dress!




This is the dress she has chosen, except that the dress will be short instead of long.

Ten days of happiness in Madison

After a month and a half away from Madison, I was anxious to be back in the excitement of my college town. January 28th - February 7th served both as a homecoming from winter break and a goodbye for the semester, all in one. This period of time includes some of my best memories in Madison as it involved so many of my favorite people. Roommates, ALPs, 7B, Roseville, all of you made it great.
A quick recap of the last ten days and why my love for Madison runs so deep.




1. Joe Field's 21st Birthday party on Mifflin. Movin' our hips like "yeah".



2. ALPs drinks spotted cow at the vintage and heads to the frequency to get our groove on to James Brown's drummer and his band. Funky Monday's are. the. best.



3. 7B Irish car bombs Wando's, dominates the darts board and dance floor at Brats, closes out Monday's and devours Ian's.



4. Roseville overtakes Madison. Including but not limited to Monday's, The Pub, The Nitty, Church Key, Lucky, and Camp Randall.





Despite my reluctance to leave Madison, I'm happy to be back in Roseville as home is almost always sweet - and comes with hot dinner on the stove. My life since being back has revolved around wedding planning with Michaela (I'm in charge of arranging cake tastings!), fitness classes with my mom and American Idol. Simple pleasures.

How do these things work, anyway?

In anticipation of my upcoming semester abroad, I decided that a blog would serve as a successful medium for sharing, organizing, and remembering my experiences. A nice way to keep in touch. However, since I don't officially leave for the land of sun, tango, and steak (pictured above) until February 21st., I'll try my hand at blogging from my homes in Madison and Roseville.
I first saw the phrase "change your shoes, change your life" on a refrigerator magnet in 4th grade at my friend Erin's house. Her mom was really excited about the quote. I didn't get it. I think I get it now, or rather, I have come to interpret it in the context of my life and the world as I understand it. I think it speaks to taking control over our own experiences and creating our own happiness. Anyways, I feel like it does a good job of promoting independence, adventure, and maybe even a little rebelliousness.