So, despues de Santiago, and after much bus traveling, I finally made it to Mendoza. Mendoza is known to be one of the biggest exporters of wine, and it’s about an 8 hour drive from Santiago. It stands beside the Andes mountains and it’s a hot spot for outdoor activities. My friends and I planned to hit Mendoza after Santiago so that we could relax, drink some wine, and do some fun adventure sports.

Our hostel was absolutely tranquil and gorgeous, and I loved every moment I spent there (besides every night when the guy in my room sneakily turned the fan on just himself and turned it’s rotation cycle off). It was nice and clean inside with super friendly staff who completely planned and booked our daily adventures for us. Outside was a gorgeous patio area with a ceiling made of grape vines, a small pool, a bunch of poolside furniture, and two comfy hammocks. They had a ladder in the corner for picking your own grapes off the vine, which we did, and they were absolutely delicious! For $13 a night, this place was better than the Ritz-Carlton.

For the first day we relaxed, and our friend Amanda (who loves to cook) made us some amazing food, and even homemade sangria! It was delicious. And then the next day we were off to go rent bikes and tour the vineyards! It sounds like such a great idea doesn’t it? A day of sun, exercise, relaxation, and wine? Well, it did turn out to be a great day…but it did not go at all as expected.

After renting the bikes, we quickly found out that there was absolutely no space on the road for us to ride them. Though there were tons of people on bikes everywhere, a bike lane was non-existent. In fact, the roads even had giant, gaping, rectangular holes parallel to them, and noone seemed to be concerned that they might fall in. I certainly thought I was going to. So we sucked it up and road along the highway, enduring beeps, bumps, and screams, and many close encounters with demonous trucks. Eventually we made it to the first vineyard of 5 or so that we were planning to hit. We did a tour and a tasting there, and did the same at the olive oil factory across the street. It was really cool!

Of course, after leaving there, we proceeded to get extremely lost. I don’t know where we were, but I know that it was a loooong uphill road to get back on track. Needless to say, by the time we reached the main road again, we had missed our chance to see any other wineries (and couldn’t find any place open for dinner, which was the most upsetting factor at the time). Either way, I was still pretty happy with what I got to see that day (though I was less happy with the disgusting meal that I was served when we finally found a restaurant open- I choked it down anyways due to extreme hunger).We finished the day with another relaxing night by the pool mingling with people in our hostel.

The next day it was time to go parapenting! We split off into two groups, and my friend Nikki and I made a reservation to jump off the side of a mountain in a parachute. It’s amazing that that’s something you can sign up for! A car was coming to pick us up at the hostel and take us to the parapenting place, and I figured that it would be some type of tourist van with people in matching jackets carrying liability forms. Let me tell you, I was wrong. This is Argentina. It’s amazing how little things give you incite into the way that another country works, and when a man in an SUV pulled up with his son in the back, and 0 knowledge of English, I remembered that life here is often much more simple. Nikki and I got in back and the man (Eduardo) drove us (and his adorable son Juan(cito)) to the base. The kid was so cute, he had a little lego-man equipped with a parachute that he was waving around, and you could tell how much this father and son pair loved eachother.

We got to the base and Eduardo said in broken English “go there, in car”. I looked an he was pointing to a rugged Jeep with a driver and passenger seat and then something like a truck bed with benches in the back. Nikki and I hopped up and Juan followed us, and we sat and took pictures for a minute while waiting for the others to show up (at least, I assumed that other tourists were showing up for this event. Though I found out that I was the only one). After a little while the driver yelled something in Spanish, and a giant group of crazy, loud, rumbling Argentine men climbed aboard. They climbed aboard laughing and joking and fighting for space. The guy who got in last climbed on the roof, and all the other men started laughing at him and throwing water at him from inside the Jeep. They looked at Nikki and I and said “sow-ry, sow-ry!” as they bumped and pushed and squeezed themselves inside.

Somehow, all of the sudden, I was inside this little cultural bubble that I had only previously observed from the outside. I had experienced full cars stuffed with outrageous Argentine men on the streets before, yelling at me, and I thought that these people were the types that I hated. However, these guys were so fun and adorable to watch, that I couldn’t help but like them. We started to drive straight up the mountain, which was, believe it or not, far scarier than jumping off it. I felt like I was going to fall out of the car at some points, but it was fun and exhilarating, and the views were gorgeous. The guys in the jeep seemed to be having the time of their lives, and they included us in their little group of playfulness. We passed a woman walking up the mountain, and they threw a bottle of water on her. Just as I was about to hate them for contributing to this kind of action against women on the streets, she started laughing and yelled “gracias!” and they all started roaring with laughter. This was really interesting for me to see from an insider’s perspective, and it definitely gave me some cultural insight. After about ten minutes, I realized that one of the men was conversing with the others about something more serious, and when I listened, I realized that they were talking about global warming and the drying up of the mountain this year, and other such things that I could only barely understand in Spanish. So here I was, seeing from an inside view, a group of crazy and obnoxious but also kind, thoughtful, and intelligent Argentine men. I decided right then and there to forgive Argentine men for their piropos (the word for the type of frequent cat-calling done on the streets here) and accept their culture for what it is. These weren’t bad guys at all.

When we got to the top of the mountain, it was time for me to jump off. I didn’t sign a single form, and actually, Eduardo didn’t even ask me my name until right before we jumped off together (I was strapped to him for the flight). He didn’t give me any instructions at all until he started to run and said “ok, run, run!!” So I did, and off we flew. It wasn’t scary at all! It was actually totally calm. The wind caught us and Eduardo weaved us in and out to make the drop last longer, and to catch as much wind as possible. The whole thing felt totally normal, and all I could think as I was parachuting through the air, was how normal it felt. I had a little seat to sit on and I just sat there as we floated, and thought, “I don’t feel like I’m floating in the air over a mountain right now.” It was really cool though, and the view was gorgeous. Again, Eduardo gave me no instruction on anything until we had just about reached the ground and he said “ok, feet on ground!” So I put them there, and we were down safely. Easy as pie.

I may have mentioned that Argentines are pretty much never in a rush to do anything, so when we landed, Eduardo ripped off his shirt and sank into the sun with his son to sit and watch the rest of the guys land. I sat down with Nikki and we basked in the sun and watched for a good 45 minutes. The only way I can think to describe the feel of this place is like Son’s of Anarchy, except for parapenters. Eduardo and Juancito sat and watched as each man landed and sat down, laughed, went to get a beer, went to greet their wives at the base, or talked amongst themselves. It was such a cool vibe, with a such a sense of family and friendship, and the simple life. I couldn’t have been happier that this wasn’t just another tourist gig.

The next day we went rafting, which was totally awesome though not so authentic, relaxed again, and headed home.

On our way home the steward of the bus came running upstairs, telling us to quickly close our curtains. There were people throwing rocks at the bus. I figured it was kids just being stupid, and assumed that it wasn’t a big deal, until we pulled over and the steward ordered us all out. We were at the bus garage, switching buses, because a hit from a rock had knocked a hole in the driverside window. My friends and I were really confused as to why this all was happening when we talked to a Canadian woman aboard who told us that the same thing had happened on her way to Mendoza. She told us that people throw rocks at the buses in an attempt to cause a crash or other such problem that would get the bus to stop. Then they run on board and steal everyone’s stuff. Ohhhhhhh, I realized. It wasn’t just stupid kids. The thought of this had never crossed my mind, but again I realized I was in Argentina. Home of some of the world’s best theives and hustlers. We made it home safe and sound, but that whole incident was really shocking to me.

Anyways, that’s the end of my spring break stories! Thanks for reading!

Love,

Lauren

Hi!

So I just finished up with my 10 day long vacation (from my current vacation in Argentina) and it gave me a chance to travel to Chile! It was awesome! It is just so so nice to explore different cultures and to see new places. And I really loved Chile.

My friends and I took at 13 hour bus to Mendoza, Argentina (we stopped there on our way back, and I’ll tell you all about that in my next post), and then switched buses for an 8 hour journey to Santiago, Chile.

It was a breathtaking drive through the Andes mountain, which I was thoroughly enjoying until our bus broke down on this road:

That was something of a setback, but eventually we made it to Santiago in one piece.

Back when my friends and I had traveled to Uruguay, we met a group of Chilean guys at our hostel, and in preparation for this trip we called them to meet up. This turned out to be an awesome idea, as the guys and their friends turned out to be really great people. They were super kind and hospitable to us, and not only did they spend multiple days taking us around the city and doing touristy things with us, they also drove us around in their cars, showed us where to find the best seafood, and took us to see a gorgeous view of the city on this random back road that we would have never otherwise found. (That particular night reminded me of the scene in the movie Friends with Benefits where Mila Kunis convinces Justin Timberlake to sit on top of the “Hollywood” sign to get a better view of Los Angeles. We may or may not have slid under a hole in a fence to get a stunning view of Santiago.)

Side note- they have some awesome food in Santiago! I was so happy to get my hands on some seafood. Uncle Art, I had the seafood stew, and it was amazing (though this picture below is the best one I got of that meal).

We (myself and my girlfriends) tried to pay for our Chilean (guy) friends’ meals, in return for all their kindness to us. They absolutely refused and they said “if we let you pay, it would be stripping us of our manhood”. We let them pay for themselves, and it was a very interesting look into Latin American male culture. Yes, there is a heightened macho-ness, but it is also paired with heightened chivalry. It’s kind of nice while being simultaneously not-nice. Interesting.

They also had this delicious peach drink there, with wheat on the bottom, and peach juice with boiled peaches on top. It was very cheap and absolutely delicious!

Santiago has such a beautiful terrain, blue sky and tall buildings with mountains as a backdrop. I could definitely see myself spending a lot of time in a place like that. The culture is very influenced by the United States, which I thought was interesting. A friend of ours said that Chile has a lot more American influence, as opposed to Buenos Aires which has a lot more European influence. I could definitely see how this is true. It was especially interesting because people on the streets were much nicer to us, and a couple people even offered to help us (with things that we didn’t need help with, but it was still nice). It was interesting to be treated in this way, because in Buenos Aires I am treated way more like a leper than as a queen (or sometimes even as a fellow citizen). While Porteños (people of Buenos Aires) are often annoyed with the fact that I’m an American with little knowledge of Spanish, the Chileans seemed enamored. It was very strange.

…by the way, they had Dunkin Donuts ( I was so happy I almost cried when I found out) but unfortunately, it wasn’t even slightly the same ( though they did have Boston Creme donuts). I got a coffee and it was probably the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted in my life, making it better than about 99% of the coffee that I drink in Argentina on a regular basis  =P.

(by the way, I’m not a fan of the coffee and more slogan)

Anyways, I enjoyed Chile so much that I did not want to leave. My friends and I also visited a gorgeous city outside of Santiago called Valparaiso, which might have been one of my favorite places I’ve seen so far. It was the perfect blend of sea and mountain, city and country, warm and cold… it was just such a perfect place. It was the type of place that I could see myself settling down in. I think that that type of place could be everything I want in a place to live. And there were sea lions there.

Funny thing is, I got my wish (to stay longer in Chile), as right as we attempted to get on our bus back to Argentina, the bus driver announced that the one road to Chile was closed (the one shown before). There had been an accident, and we would have to find a place to stay for the night and take the earliest bus out (at 4 PM) the next day. That really sucked, but thankfully our Chilean friend came to pick us up at the bus station, called a hostel, booked us a room, and took us there to spend the night. We were seriously lucky to have had him.

Overall, Chile was AWESOME, and a great experience that I will never forget.

Hasta la vista,

Lauren

Hey guys,

I have a lot to tell you about my travels but first I want to make this post about everyday life. I haven’t forgotten you, in fact, I’ve been keeping a journal and jotting down things I want to blog about!

Good news, I finally got some quality pics of the dog walkers I have been telling you about, if you remember. Buenos Aires has a doggy culture! Take a look:

I wasn’t kidding!

On a lower note, I’m getting very used to be laughed at. I went up to a food vendor to order water the other day, but I was out of cash. I asked “Acepta tarjetas de credito?” and the woman literally laughed in my face. Uncontrollably. She burst out in loud, croaking, laughter, which she only suppressed just enough to say “no”. Needless to say, I found another place to get water. I have a lot of difficulty understanding how someone can be so rude, and the thing is, this happens to me all the time! I realize that my accent is probably horrible, but in the US I would never burst out in laughter at somebody with a Spanish accent. What’s funny about that? Unless I had accidentally said “Do you accept credit tigers?” I don’t really see what’s so funny…Either way, I’m getting used to being laughed at and I’ve accepted that fact enough to not stop trying. Sometimes I try to just laugh along with them, and other times I walk away and they can get their business somewhere else. And when my Spanish- speaking friends laugh at me, I can just smack them and say “!Cállate!” (shut up!) and that’s satisfying enough in itself.

As far as getting around goes, I’m doing much better. I am now a proud user of the city buses, which I have realized are by far the best way to get around the city. They go everywhere, they cost about 25 cents, and they run 24 hours a day. Score!

And as for my Spanish, I feel totally hopeless a lot of the time, but that is probably just my perfectionist-self talking. Though I know I could be doing better, I also know that right now I am speaking at a level that I could have never attempted before. I can say with confidence that with enough time, and with people who have enough patience, I could get across just about any idea that I need to get across in Spanish. It may be hard, and it may be super grammatically incorrect, but I am capable of doing it.

On Monday, a whole slew of Argentines and other Latin Americans moved into the residencia where I live, and since then I have been sitting down to meals and speaking loads of Spanish. It has been Spanish on overdrive, and I absolutely love it. Every time I go for a meal I get an hour of practice in, and it is hugely helpful. I feel so accomplished when I sit and have an hour long conversation with someone in Spanish, and we can mostly understand each other! It is an awesome feeling that I wish to continue.

To finish up this daily life post, I can say that I am gaining appreciation for this experience every day. Though I miss home I think it’s going to be really hard to leave Argentina. I feel like I have so much more to learn here! But the other day I met a guy from Seattle teaching English here, and he said that his program paid for everything for him to be here, and that he gets a stipend on top of the that. He said there weren’t any strict requirements to get the job, and that if I wanted to, I would have no trouble doing it! You never know, something like that could be an option for me after college.

Thanks for listening! Chao!

Hola a todos!

I have so much Spanish in my brain that it’s hard to write in English! My words are coming out in total Spanglish, I swear. So anyways, I’m sorry I totally neglected to post about the rest of my Carneval experience. Entonces ( the connector words are the ones that I just ALWAYS say in Spanish!) – So— I’m just going to post some pictures and a video of what this party actually looked like, and we can call it a day! Here goes!

Crazy party in the street, people were on top of cars and such, it was like nothing I’ve ever seen before!!

Pretty much every man in sight (old, young, in between- they were all equally immature) and some women too, had this foam stuff called “nieve de carneval” aka- carnival snow. They sprayed every single person they could find, and straight in the eyes too. They especially targeted the girls, it was like being in third grade all over again. I was walking alone for a little bit because I had to run back to our place to grab something, and I literally got so attacked with nieve de carneval that I couldn’t see. The guys thought it was hilarious. My poor friend Nikki walked to the bus station the next morning at 6 am (prime partying time for Argentines) to catch her 7 am bus out, and a guy sprayed his hand with nieve de carneval and slapped her in the face! Poor girl.

And this was the beach during the day!

Oh yeah, thongs and soccer pride are very real here:

As for the actual event, it was awesome!!

Hey guys,

I write to you from a state of near- death illness (I am exaggerating…I think), I have managed to contract some type of stomach bug or virus or something, and I am here to tell you how. This past weekend was a long one for us as it was Carneval, a nationally declared holiday dedicated to partying. I’m not sure if there’s any real significance to Carnval, but if there is, I’m sure it’s completely made up. Carneval is party central. One thing I have learned while living in Argentina is that South Americans LOVE to party. They need absolutely 0 excuse to enjoy their lives to the fullest amount possible. They love to party- and that doesn’t necessarily mean drinking their faces off like it would in the US. Yes it means drinking, but it means drinking, dancing, loud music, drums, more dancing, more dancing, and staying up until it would be normal to be heading into the office for a work day. Carneval is a 4 day weekend in which people can party to their fullest, and it is especially celebrated in a small town named Gualeguaychu in the Entre Rios province of Argentina. Carneval is most well known in Rio in Brasil.

So of course, Friday night I got on a bus to Gualeguaychu to go see this for myself. My friends and I had tried to book a place to stay, but struck out on all counts. We were told that literally EVERYBODY would be headed to Gualeguaychu for Carneval, and that we were much, much too late it trying to book a place. This turned out to be true, as every hostel, cabin, campsite, and hotel was completely booked. The staff at ISA suggested that we just get into town and seek out families that would be renting rooms in their homes. Apparently the people who live in Gualeguaychu use Carneval as a way to make some extra money by crowding their families into one room for the weekend, and renting out the others. The ISA staff said that finding a place to stay would be easy…

So Friday night we arrive into town to discover the place is totally dead. Needless to say, the party wasn’t starting until Saturday, so nobody was seeking renters for their homes just yet. After walking multiple miles with a heavy backpack on, I was started to get really discouraged and frustrated, but was trying not to be the debby- downer of the group. Eventually we all started complaining and we realized that we were all kind-of pissed! We had literally wondered for hours around in this small and quiet town, and it seemed that we had no hope of a place to sleep that night.

So my friend Nikki pointed at a shacky- looking pizza place, said “that place looks cheap” and we went to sit down. We sat at the pizza place for a long time while we all took turns – reluctantly calling numbers that we had seen on signs offering rooms for rent. The problem was that we could barely understand anything that people were saying in Spanish, so we were making no headway. After a while, we were starting to make a bit of a scene in the pizza place. A woman started offering up her friend’s place, and got on the phone to her. Then the guy that owned the pizza place offered us his place!! We asked how much it would cost, and he shrugged his shoulders and said that he wouldn’t want us sleeping on the street. It was so kind and my heart was so warmed! We turned down the woman’s offer to let us stay with her friends at a very low price, and the pizza guy got his car and said “vamos!”

We felt so lucky to have found such a kind man to welcome us into his home. When we arrived at the house, his wife had already set us up a double futon and two mattresses for the 4 of us to sleep. They had a young daughter, and they served us mate while we played Uno with her. I was so humbled by these people’s kindness and the way that they welcomed us into their family. Even though the toilet in the bathroom that they offered us didn’t really flush, I wasn’t complaining…

The family woke us up early at 9 am (we had been up until 3 playing UNO, I’m telling you, Argentines simply don’t sleep) and as we were eating cookies and drinking mate (Argentines always eat some small version of carbs/sweets for breakfast) the father handed us a slip of paper. On it it had a calculation of 600 pesos!!! They had charged us $30 per person for the night! I was so disheartened. It wasn’t the money (though I had barely any pesos with me, and it was an issue for me to pay) but it was the point. I really thought that this family was comitting a kind act of generosity, and for 600 pesos, a working toilet would have been nice!!!

I left with a bitter taste in my mouth. I realize that maybe I was being unfair, but I just didn’t understand what had just happened. We were planning on leaving a gift of some sort, or a nice note, but I guess money was really what they wanted…

When I met up with my friend Grace, the one who tends to keep me in check, she reminded me that things are different here. These people don’t have a lot of money, and they can’t afford to be generous the way that some Americans could. I saw her point, but all I could think was “my mom would never do that to a group of kids!” I knew that my own mother would never take advantage of anybody like that.. but hey, I guess it’s a different world. Either that or they just weren’t good people.

So we got on our way to find another place to stay for the next 3 days. We got on a bus, headed down to the water, and were welcomed by the crowd that we had originally been expecting. People were coming from every direction, and my friends and I could tell that the party had officially started. We went through the motions of going by hostels and hotels just to be turned away by the staff there, until we came across this side street that advertised a room for rent. We walked down and approached the kiosk (kioskos are very popular here, it’s like a very small convenient store that just about every street has) with a room for rent. There was a sweet looking pregnant lady standing at the door, and she told us that there was a room available, we would just have to wait for her mother to return home and she would show it to us.

So we took a seat on the sidewalk and I observed my surroundings. We were in an area with small homes that looked a bit shack-like, on a street with tons of kids running around barefoot. I had never really seen a place like this in real life. I stared at the mothers dragging their kids down the trash-filled street, and noticed that the moms didn’t seem to care that their children were barefoot, and the kids didn’t seem to be in any pain. I just remember thinking that they must have some damn good calluses on their feet. There weren’t any other Americans here. I realized that it wasn’t a real big tourist destination (for foreigners, there were tons of Argentines from other provinces). In Buenos Aires, I think that nobody can speak any English, but here, they really couldn’t. They had a much harder time understanding our broken Spanish as well. I’m pretty sure we were some of the only Americans that these people had ever encountered. It was a very unknown type of place to me.

Eventually the mother came home and showed us into a VERY stuffy, VERY hot, small room with a basement- like floor and 3 beds set up. She seemed very nice, and offered us a fair price, and we said we’d take it. Past our bedroom the house had another room and then opened up into a dirty backyard with children’s toys piled up, a bathroom with no toilet seat, no toilet paper, and no sink, and a shower room where the door didn’t fully close. The children were very cute and sweet, and they ran around everywhere, as the pregnant mom cradled another small baby. There were a bunch of men inside and outside singing and playing music. They all seemed very happy there, and I kept telling myself that the place wasn’t that bad- but I never realized how privileged I was until staying there.

I’m going to end this post here for now and continue to tell about the rest of my adventure in the next post, since this is going on for so long. Stay tuned!

Hi everyone,

Sorry I have been slow to updating the blog, I have been super busy. I finished my first “semester” of class with an A, and started class in the intermediate level. A whole bunch of new students came, and now our deserted university has turned into the place to be. I like it, but it’s a hard adjustment as I was used to having a teeny-tiny class with only people that I had gotten to know very personally. Things are definitely way different now. I’ll let you know how it all goes.

But for right now, I want to tell you about my awesome trip to Montevideo! My classmates and I were given an extra day off before having to start our new class, so last weekend was a long weekend. Some of us decided to go to Uruguay since it seemed like a perfectly good time to, and since Uruguay is a close and easy trip to make. We booked a hostel, ferry tickets, bus tickets, and were on our way! Total transit time was around 5 hrs, not bad.

Before leaving, I had been looking up some things to do in Montevideo, and came across this festival that was happening the same night that we arrived. It was called the Festival of Iemanjá, a celebration to bless and thank the goddess Iemanjá, goddess of the sea. For the festival, thousands of Uruguayans flock to Ramirez Beach in Montevideo (which was a convenient 20 minute walk from my hostel) to offer up gifts to the goddess. My friends and I were able to settle in at the hostel and make it to Ramirez Beach just in time to witness this spectacular event! I couldn’t have been happier, because we were able to witness a beautiful and hugely interesting cultural event.

This was what the beach looked like as we arrived:

Here are some of the gifts to be given to the goddess

As the sun went down, people began to wade into the water with their gifts, and there was some type of blessing being done on people as well.

And the aftermath..

This little boy enjoyed himself…

This entire trip to Uruguay made me feel like a grown-up. Yes, I know grown-ups don’t generally refer to themselves as so, but I do! My friends and I started with the 1) cultural event- number one grown up rule of traveling. Then we went on to go 2) grocery shopping and 3) prepare a cheap and delicious dinner (given, I sat on the kitchen floor eating cheese and crackers after my friend scolded me for not washing the lettuce, which I swear was already washed!). It was, to use a big person word, a lovely night. We actually talked about 4) politics over wine, beer, and alfajores ( a cookie similar to an Oreo but with dulce de leche inside and the entire thing dipped in more dulce de leche). I enjoyed every minute of it. Then we 5) went to bed early to get a good night sleep for the next day.

Our hostel was truly tranquil and awesome, minus the fact that we were on a main road and with high ceilings, our room literally vibrated with traffic noise. I barely got any sleep, which is something I’m very used to by now, and woke up to another gorgeous day ahead.

We walked down to the beach and started talking to this guy… which was really good practice and interesting. He was on a mission to get us to pronounce the word tortuga correctly (towr- too- guh), and he had the most adorable puppy ever (though he didn’t seem to care that it was eating something dead down on the beach…). We talked to the guy for a while until he started asking the guys in our group what they were most attracted to in a woman when he saw her passing by, cullo or tatas (ass or tits, to translate that exactly). My friend Eric responded with ojos (eyes), which was really sweet (though probably a lie), and a good spot to end the conversation at and walk away. Somehow it always goes to that spot with South American men, I swear.

We continued our day by ordering “mixed meat” platters at the local parilla ( South American barbecue restaurant) which was absolutely delicious minus the gross heart/ organ thing that we accidentally ate without knowing what it was.

Side note- I finally got a picture of what you get when you order coffee around here. I always forget that I’m barely getting a shot’s worth of coffee before I order it…

We ended our day by walking through town, through the markets and along the water. We went to the Carneval Museum, and gleaned as much information as we could read in Spanish.

In the night that followed we cooked ourselves another brilliant dinner, and met a group of Chilean boys staying in our hostel as well. We got some beer and went outside for a sing along, which I loved, as I love anything involving singing (even if I could only sing the woooohhh-oohhh–ohhh parts since it was all in Spanish).

It was a really great trip, and I would recommend Uruguay to anyone looking to travel somewhere new. It seems like there wouldn’t be much there, but really there are kind people that lead a slow (er that Buenos Aires- they speak slower Spanish too) life, some beautiful scenery and great food.

It was a great way to spend the long weekend.

By the way, sorry if I got a little snappy happy with this post. Thank you to my awesome Uncle Art and Aunt Robin, who helped me replace my camera this week. You may be seeing an overload of pictures in my next couple posts, and I couldn’t be happier to have a camera again!

Lots of love!

Hi everyone! Today I have a day off due to this holiday called “Feria” something. Something or other about fairs. Anyway, I just woke up and I can already feel the heat. Today it’s 97 degrees farenheit. I really oughta get to a beach.

I have been very busy, but haven’t forgotten about my blog! I got a journal and have been jotting down things to share with you all. So here’s a new slew of information!

I’ll start off by saying that I love Spanish. I really do. I love speaking Spanish, and even though it’s frustrating, I’m really loving class here. At home, there is rarely a class that I look forward to going to, but I really enjoy my Spanish class here for the most part. It is so interactive, it’s not like any class I’ve ever taken before. The methods are extremely effective. Yesterday was my final exam for beginner level Spanish class (PS I totally aced it). Friday will be the oral exam, and Monday I will move on to intermediate. I’m kind of upset that I didn’t choose to start in intermediate, because I feel like I could have handled it, and then now I would be up to intermediate 2, but what can you do?

It’s still hard doing daily life in Spanish. Yesterday I was in a store, asking for things in broken Spanish, when one of the saleswomen asked me if I wanted to speak English. I let out such a sigh of relief. It can just be so hard sometimes! It’s weird too, because the moment I start speaking English to someone I totally forget where I am. I feel just like I’m in New York , speaking as I normally would. It’s happened a few times that I ask someone something in English after having been speaking with somebody in English previously, and then I just continue speaking English, forgetting that I’m in Argentina!! Then the person looks at me all funny and when I try to figure out why, I realize “DUH! They have no idea what I’m saying!” This has happened a few times and it’s really confusing and weird. I get really disoriented sometimes!

A lot of people around here actually do speak English too. They know very few words, or simple sentences, and sometimes more. You wouldn’t know this by walking on the street, because a lot of the time they won’t speak English to you. Once you get them talking though, they’ll say that their English is very “bahsick”, but I’m always astounded by the amount they consider “basic”. It seems to me like they can communicate pretty well with their “basic” skills! Everybody in Argentina is heavily exposed to English though. They have a decent foundation. Argentines have told me that they know English from movies, tv shows, and music. This makes a lot of sense because everything seems to be imported! If you turn on the tv you will see just about every show that you see in the US, usually dubbed in Spanish, but also with Spanish subtitles a lot of the time. The other day I flipped through Los Simpsons, True Blood, Dexter, and a bunch of familiar films. They play a lot of music from the US, and I hear it everywhere I go. I don’t know how they stand it, I would be so frustrated if my country was totaly imported from another, but this is what they know. Even bars and clubs and gyms are named things like Always Gym or Cold Beer Bar, or other such names. All this and they still have a negative reaction to Americans a lot of the time….

I’m still amazed and in love with the dogs here. A few days ago I counted 12 dogs with a dog walker, and they were all big fluffy things! I want to die of the cuteness. There’s a husky that sometimes I pet on the way to school, he sits in a big group of dogs tied to a pole on the sidewalk up the street from my school, and when I walk by, this little dog yaps at me but the husky just looks at me and I pat his head. Too cute. It seems that a lot of people in the wealthier neighborhoods have maids of some sort. If I leave for class early, I see all these women walking dogs in their uniforms. Some of the uniforms look like scrubs, and I thought that they were all nurses for a while! Some of them have aprons draped over the front. It’s strange to see these kinds of workers, something we don’t generally have in the US.

Do you know that nobody walks around with coffee here? You either sit and spend time at a cafe for your coffee, or you don’t order coffee at all. It’s not at all common to take food out of any establishment. There is rarely carry out coffee or drinks or those things that we are used to stopping for at home. I suppose you can go somewhere for a sandwich or pastry during the lunch hour, but generally, people sit down and order (which by the way, always comes with a small table fee). When you eat out, you are not really supposed to ask them to wrap your food up, unless it’s a significant amount. Also, if you order coffee with cream, expect that it will come with whipped cream!! I’ve figured that one out.

Luckily, I’m getting a little sick of the food here. That’s good, so that maybe I can start eating more salad and eat less of everything else before I flood my heart with fat. It seems like everything they eat here is fried. I don’t know how anyone keeps their shape. I’ve figured out that ham and cheese (jamon y queso) is a regular everyday food group, accompanied by steak of course and any other form of beef that you can think of. Meat pies and quiches are also a food group of their own. Eggs are served in everything except your breakfast dish! Basically it is a super high fat diet, and the only cooked vegetables I have been served have been baked in cheese.

A few days ago I went to this drum show called “La Bomba de Tiempo”. I had SO much fun!!! I’m trying to go to more authentic Argentine events, but when I got  there, I realized that there were a lot of Americans there. However, it was a fantastic time. It was a huge standing room concert with the coolest African drum band performing. I absolutely love that type of music. I had a ton of fun, spoke a little bit of Spanish to some people, and hit the after party after that, which included a bunch of people playing their own drums to recreate the band’s efforts. It was really fun. A lot of the clubs here have multiple floors, and the top is generally a terrace or screened in roof with a whole bunch of really green plants. These places are so pretty! If only there was ever any airflow going on. You think there’d be on a terrace and all, but every day has been sweltering here. And it’s extremely humid.

Side note on the screened in roofs, I went to a dance club (boliche) on Saturday night, and after a little while, they were forcing everyone down from the top floor. I was confused as to why, when I caught a glimpse of them closing the doors to the upstairs area. There was sunlight streaming through!! Since Argentines party into the wee hours of the morning, the club had to close off the top part in order to keep it dark enough for people to stay. I left shortly after that, and it was bright outside. It was nearly 7 am, my ears were ringing, and it looked like the Walking Dead (I always feel the need to refer to the Walking Dead here) had gathered outside to stumble home. The streets were filled with 20-30 somethings making their way home. This place is crazy!

This upcoming weekend is a long weekend for me, and I’ll be traveling to Uruguay with some friends. I’m excited. I’m going to Montevideo by ferry and then bus, and staying in a hostel (that blissfully has a pool)! I hope I will enjoy it. When I get back, a whole new group of study abroad-ers will have arrived for the next part of classes. Things will change a lot, as there are so few of us now! I don’t know if I will be getting a roommate or not, but I think that I might. That kinda blows because I have been enjoying my room all to myself! But 5 more students (students that are fluent in Spanish, as their program is regular classes with locals) will be moving into my dorm. I am excited but also not. We’ll have to see how it goes.

I’m going to leave you off with a nice story of something that happened to me yesterday. I was down in the subway station, up by the ticket counter, rummaging through my things looking for coins. I had no cash on me, and could only find a few 25 cent coins and an American quarter in my wallet. A guy about my age walked up to the counter and ordered 1 ticket, then glanced at me. He said something in Spanish that I figured was ” do you have enough?” and so I said in Spanish “I don’t know”. So he handed me the ticket that he had just bought, and bought himself a new one. It was so kind and nice! I talked to him when we got down to the tracks, and I found out that his English was “very bahhsick”. We had a conversation in Spanglish on the train ride home, and when he got off at his stop he gave me the Argentine kiss on the cheek. It was very sweet!

I think I’ve covered everything. If anyone knows anything about Montevideo, send me the info!

Lots of love,

Lauren

Hey guys! As I’m settling in I’ve been thinking of things that I’d like to share on my blog, but I forget what it is by the time I get home. I apologize for this, and I’m going to try to get a notebook so that I can write things down at the ready. At home, I jot all my thoughts/ideas/shareable experiences down in my iPhone, but I’m way to scared to bring my iPhone anywhere here, as it’s not worth losing it. So I definitely need to come up with a strategy. I’m also looking for a strategy for picture taking without a camera. I was thinking I’d grab a disposable so that if it gets lost I won’t be totally devastated, but having a blog without pictures is really boring. This blog is getting really boring. Womp, womp. Lo siento.

One thing I remembered that I wanted to mention is the fashion here. Don’t know if you heard but platform sandals are in. Totally hideous in every way, but every girl here has them. I refuse to jump on the bandwagon.

Also, I spent the weekend in a beach town about 5 hours outside of Buenos Aires. It was an interesting night since my friends and I hopped from place to place, having nowhere to stay the night. Luckily nightlife here doesn’t shut down until 7 AM. The craziest thing about my night in the beach town (Pinamar) was that around 3:30 AM literally THOUSANDS of teens/ preteens came scrambling out. I kid you not..thousands! It was like The Walking Dead of 12 year olds in platform shoes and nylon leggings (oh yeah, they are in full blown 80’s fashion mode, I do not approve). I have never seen anything like it. We walked out of a bar at 3:30 and were immediately enveloped in a full- blown zombie invasion. I simply could not understand why the parents allowed these children to be out so late, in so little clothing, in mixed gender company. Not to mention that they were all belligerently drunk and heading to a nightclub. After attempting to ask a few different kids (¿¿Donde está su mamá???) and getting no coherent response, I decided that it was just a cultural thing. We happened to have ended up in the place that kids party, and here in Argentina, everyone parties. I think it’s just the way things are. Parents and teachers allow and encourage it, and I’m guessing nothing bad usually happens or else the crazy partying would stop. Really intriguing to me.

Another thing I’ve noticed while I’ve been here: everyone always wants to know “¿De donde vos?”. This is VERY annoying to me. “¿De donde vos?” means “Where are you from?”. Sure, it seems like an innocent question, and sometimes it is, but what’s annoying is the timing in which they choose to ask you. For example, you go into a store and you ask if they have sunscreen. You are looking for sunscreen. You are not having a personal conversation. The store owner chuckles at your accent, and instead of giving you any answer pertaining to sunscreen in any form whatsoever, they ask “¿De donde  vos?”, completely ignoring your request. Example number two: during my night last weekend at the beach in Pinamar, my friends and I stayed up most of the night in bars and cafes, but eventually we retired to to the beach for some rest. At some point, I had to use the bathroom. As I wondered around the beach searching for one, I was shooed away by a few police officers until I finally found the bathroom. I was exhausted and freaked out by this scary experience of being shooed in another language, but I finally found one. As I walked into the stall a guy came into the bathroom and started yelling at me (presumably to get out— I’m pretty sure that there were urinals in there and I was in the men’s bathroom, but hey, it was 6 am who really cares?). So I was even more scared and freaked out by the appearance of this guy. I left the stall and he starts talking to me in a stern voice, but when he realized that I wasn’t comprehending him, the most he had to say was “¿De donde vos?” I felt like saying “¿DE DONDE VOS??? ¿DE DONDE VOS??? Really dude??? You just snuck up on me in an empty bathroom, yelled at me while I was trying to pee, forced me out of the stall in my haggard and terrified state, and now, as I’m standing here dirty and tired and in desperate need of a bathroom, you want to have a conversation about WHERE I’M FROM????” Needless to say, I find the whole question to be rude and selfish, as they want to satisfy their own fascination or distaste for you– or whatever it may be—but there are very few times when the question is genuine.

Another note on bathrooms…when you go to use a bathroom in a public place, there is a woman standing at the front door who hands you a little bit of toilet paper before you enter the stall. You are then expected to tip on your way out. This is something that confused me a lot at first. I think I finally know the protocol.

That’s it for now,

Hasta la vista!!

Hey everyone!

So I’ve been here nearly 2 weeks now, and I’m definitely slowing down on the crazy stories that I have to share with you. Also, I have a lot less pictures to add in due to the disappearance of my camera and my fear of using my iPhone as plan B ( I have been leaving it safely locked away in my room- taking no chances on that one).

But anyways…! now that I am settling in and everything, I’m getting to the point where I’m wondering “what comes next???”. I’m getting very comfortable with my route to and back to school, my general school day routine, and I’ve figured out some customs of the people ( late- night partiers, 3 hour cafe sitters, lovers of all things dulce de leche….) Now I’m wondering how I can do more than simply visit Argentina. I really want to become a part it of it, and I don’t want to feel like I’m living inside the little bubble of “American kids studying in Buenos Aires”. By the way, South Americans object to our calling of ourselves American as they refer to themselves as American. They expect us to specify “estadounidense” (they also don’t capitalize anything but names here).. it’s a mouthful. I’ve met some Argentines from going out at night, and people here seem to be really nice and many want to practice their English with you– but I’m wondering how I can actually build an authentic, or close to authentic, life here. I don’t want to go home and tell my friends ” Yah I had a great time! I made friends with two girls from Arizona and a boy from Colorado!!” So I guess I will start figuring out how to put myself out there more, it’s just very hard with a steel wall of a language barrier standing in between you and the culture.

However (sin embargo), on that note, I am learning and remembering a whole lot of words that are crucial to communication (see “sin embargo” above)! I’m not sure how fast and how thoroughly I am actually picking it up, but I can say that it is possible for me to have a conversation with somebody about a lot of basic things. Today in class even, we got on the topic of politics in Argentina and the US, and I was able to contribute something. This contribution often happens with a mix of words and phrases that are understandable but not correct- but hey, you gotta start somewhere. I had an Argentine tell me last night that my Spanish was a lot better than I thought ( yes, I was self-depricating in typical fashion about my español—-side note, they like to say they speak Castellano, my teacher says this is not technically correct but to just humor them). It’s really cool because the Spanish classes here are totally different from our classes at home…their approach is to teach us useful vocab, useful words and phrases, and they aim to emphasize speaking, listening, and conversation in class. Basically, they want us to actually use our Spanish. This is a concept that’s new to me.

I will leave you guys off by saying that I read an article in “The Argentino” newspaper this morning, and the morning before. And yes, I understood most of both!! It also helped me to look a lot more like a local on the subway, win-win. And did you know that Argentines refer to their president Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, as Cristina? Interesting. Also “orgullosos” means proud– a vocab word I was able to guess beforehand having read it just before in an article about Diego Maradona (AKA god in Argentina– he’s their most famous soccer player). I have also been trying to read and comprehend billboards and advertisements, and other such things, and I have found that a lot of times I am able to do so with ease. It’s really exciting!

By the way, I finally signed up for a gym!

Hasta luego-

Hello everyone,

I currently write to you from a lobsterous state of sunburn, after visiting the most gorgeous location yesterday outside of the city. Buenos Aires Federal Capital is technically a federal district like Washington DC, and the people that live in Buenos Aires are called Porteños. However, Buenos Aires is also a province. You can get out of the city and into the province pretty quickly and easily, and the people that live in the province are called Bonaerenses. So yesterday my group and I went out to the province, which was about a 45 minute train ride from the city, to tour El Tigre. El Tigre is a popular weekend destination for Porteños as it is along the Paraná Delta, and people can swim. When we got to Tigre we got onto a ferry that wound through the river and eventually let us off at a little island with a restaurant and beach area. It was one of the most gorgeous places I have ever been to. Everyone there seemed to know eachother, and the funniest thing was that a bunch of Argentine men pulled up on those little motor boat things, I forget what they’re called…but it was like a motorcycle gang except on water. Life jackets instead of leather vests. It was like Son’s of Anarchy reincarnated.

Also, there was a protest going on on the river because the people that live there had their electicity cut off by the government. Apparently protests like this happen a lot, so that was interesting to see.

We took a bus home and stopped at this park with a gorgous view of Buenos Aires, on the way back. It’s was like paradise there.

Adios!

¡Hola a todos!

So I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I’m getting a little more comfortable in the city, figuring out where things are a little bit, and speaking (and learning) a lot of Spanish due to daily communication with the people here. I’ve finished the first week of class, I’m learning about Argentine customs and culture, and I think I finally found a gym to sign up for.

So let’s get the bad news over with. Last night, I attempted my first real night out in the city of Buenos Aires. Since I’ve been here I have gone to a few late dinners, afternoon cafe hangouts, and for a few drinks, but last night I went out to discover what night life is like here. It was fun! Many of the bars and clubs have gorgeous outdoor areas with plants and blue or green lighting, and it is really gorgeous. The air is warm and the breeze is nice and the people are fun to talk to. It’s a really cool scene. But if you’ve heard anything about the nightlife in South America, especially in the city of Buenos Aires about how late the night begins- what you’ve heard is absolutely true. People eat dinner very very late, until about 2 am. The boliches (dance clubs) open at 3. Yes, 3 AM!! It’s truly insane. So typically, friends will get together for dinner and drinks until 2 and then head out to go dance at 3 or later. The “night” ends at 7 am, when the subway opens and everyone can get home in the daylight. This is not a joke.

Anyways, I was at a boliche with a bunch of American and Argentine people that had organized an event to get foreigners involved in the nightlife, and I was talking with people when I looked down at my purse and realized it was open. It was open and missing my camera and prepaid phone that I had just bought and loaded with minutes. So, needless to say, I wasn’t paying attention and I got robbed. I’m annoyed and mad and feel really stupid, but it is what it is. They didn’t get money or my passport so it could have been a lot worse.

In class my teacher Ursula taught us how to drink mate! Mate is a traditional Argentine tea that locals drink religiously (probably because it’s high in caffeine and they need it to get through the day after visiting the boliche and pulling an all-nighter). To drink it, you fill this cup called a gourd with the tea, and then take a mug of hot water and fill the gourd. Then you sip the drink out of a bombilla (straw) which filters out the tea leaves, and there you have it! Argentines will then pass the gourd to share the mate, and continue to pour in more hot water after eat couple sips. I thought it was really awesome and fun that we did this in class!

Also, I took a tango class! It was fun, though hard for me with my current condition (clumsiness). The basic steps are pretty simple, therefore, absolutely impossible for me to do, but it was really fun the few times I was able to get it down. Now I can’t tell you for sure, but it is possible that I broke out my tango moves when I went to the boliche.

Thanks for reading, buenas noches!

Let’s just say…. it’s not easy. I got lost for more than an hour yesterday morning after deciding that I’d rather walk to the university than take the subway. Good exercise, I figured. Turns out I was overly confident in my abilities. I ended up getting lost for over an hour. Scared to death of looking like a foreigner and becoming prey, I just kept walking around blocks, figuring that I’d find a street that looked familiar and that I’d find my way. I was too scared to take out my phone and I didn’t even bring a map. Smart, I know. Needless to say I started totally panicking after a little while, but I was trying to talk to myself and calm down “no Lauren, you are not going to die, nobody is going to kidnap you, nobody knows you are lost, you can just take the test another day…”. I kept telling myself that I would find something familiar and find my way and to just stay calm. Finally, I found the subway and followed my familiar route to the ISA office (just as it began to pour), where I effectively buzzed in, walked up the stairs, and burst into tears the moment I got in the door. My proudest moment thus far…

I ended up testing into the intermediate 1 level, and was really pleased and surprised with that. I’ve figured out that my Spanish is a lot better on paper than it is in conversation. A lot of people tested into the beginner level so I was shocked that I tested into intermediate, but it turned out not to matter since they were only offering two classes: one in the level below me and one in the level above. I chose to go to the beginner level, and I’m glad I did because even on my first day today it seemed to be moving really fast. I love my teacher, she is a sweetheart, and so helpful. She speaks solely in Spanish, but does it in a way that we can understand which is an act of genius. I think I learned more ( and more useful) information in the 5 hours of class today than I have in 2 semesters of Spanish at UMass combined. Seriously. She’s good, and the class is good…very conversation based with a lot of practical information. The book is an activity book built by my teacher herself, and offers a lot of interesting knowledge and information about Argentina and it’s unique culture. So class seems really great so far.

Not the greatest shots, but the areas outside the front and back of my school.

Anyways, that’s pretty much it for this post. I bought a phone also, and you should have seen me attempting to speak to the guy at the cell phone store. They really oughta teach commonly used/ helpful phrases in Spanish when they teach Spanish in the US. I could barely say anything to the guy except telefono prepago, meaning prepaid phone (which was a correction to my first attempt, telefono preparado- prepared phone). I feel so stupid when I just sit there silent because I can’t figure out what to say! But I guess that’s why it’s called total immersion.

Quick comment on the food here, before I go. It is absolutely delicious, though you have to be very careful because some of it is heart-attack- inducing. They like to serve pastries and breads and cakes with dulce de leche for breakfast which is so tempting, but I won’t do it! My residencia has a chef who cooks all our meals from scratch, and all of it is delicious. She cooks in the kitchen and then you just walk in and fill your plate with food from the pan. Last night was fried steak…see what I mean about delicious and killer? We always have salad though, and there are a lot of good things to put on it. Fun fact: here, they only use oil and vinegar for salad dressing. Nothing else. When you buy a salad they give you a small thing of oil and vinegar, and that’s it.

Well, hasta luego amigos!