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.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
"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.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
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.
"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.
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