The Last Liquido

So I'm leaving tonight, sitting in the same cafe I came to an hour after arriving (Tienda del Cafe, corner of Scalbrini Ortiz and Juncal, highly recommended).  I'm having a liquido of fresh orange juice, bananas and peaches.  Reflecting on what a great day it was, and what a great trip it's been.

I did most of what I thoght I'd do.  Some stuff I didn't -- I had imagined that I'd join a gym and regularly work out, even brought a bathing suit and goggles in case I decided to swim, but because of the Christmas and New Year's holiday, practically everything was shut down that week, and by the time the new year came around, I was into a rythmn that didn't include workouts or martial arts or swimming.

I had also imagined I'd go every day to a cafe to read the local newspaper and crank through learning that way.  I did, a few times.  But really every morning I spent drinking mate with Hugo,eating toast and fresh fruit, discussing the previous night's events (I still can't seem to get the difference between when to use the preterite and when to use the imperfect), and the upcoming day's events, and whatever else we felt like talking about.  Much better (for me) than sitting in a cafe alone with a newspaper.

Besides Hugo, I made one good friend here, and several acquantances that may have become friends if I had been here longer.  I'm grateful for all the people who let me into their life, put up with my enthusastic but imperfect Spanish.

Some of the best memories:

 Mate with people I had just met

 Camping New Year's Eve

 Partying until 5 in the morning, and being the first one to leave the party

 Biking through the city

 Having Pablo as a friend, who was always up for doing something

 Sitting quietly (sometimes with the computer) in the Botanical Garden

 Lunch w/Hugo, which always started with soup, frequently included wine or beer, and was always followed by a sieta.

 Photo class with Marianna, photo modeling with Deniz

 

The stupidest thing I did on this trip was today, at the end of an excellent day.  Pablo and I met and rode arond all my favorite parts of the city, and I took tons of pictures.  La Boca, San Telmo, the Obelisk in the center, Puerto Matero, the Nature Reserve, the docks.  I had to come back by 6 to pick up laundry (want to travel with clean clothes).  When we came back, I told Pablo one of the few things I really wanted to do, but hadn't, was share a mate in the park with him.  Since he's never tried mate, this was a big stretch, but he agreed.  I got so busy with the mate plan that I forgot about the clothes.  So, some people leave their heart in San Francisco, I'm leaving my socks in Buenos Aires.

But it's fitting, I guess.  Lots of changes at home, maybe some time for some new clothes, new jeans, new shirts, etc.  I'm going home to a different house, much quieter, some new furniture and lights were delivered while I was gone, but it's going to be a tough adjustment.

But I guess it's time, I'm off to pack and then have one more cerveza with Hugo.  What an excellent adventure its been.

Magical Evening

And sometimes things just work out as you want them to.  I had wanted to do something special with Pablo and Hugo my last night in Buenos Aires, and had heard about a place called Bar Magico.  I made reservations, and we went tonight, and it was everything I'd hoped it would be.   I enjoyed the magic, but really what I wanted was for them to enjoy the magic (I've seen plenty).

We got there early, because I thought "Hey, if it's called Bar Magico, it's probably a bar where we can get a drink before the show starts."  But no, and we wandered around a neighborhood that made me appreciate Palermo all the more, then went back to the bar that didn't serve drinks.

But they did have a great close-up show, nice setup, very calm, professional magician.  While I knew most of the techniques (secrets) of the tricks, he did a great job of performing them.  Often I read, or practice, or even sometimes perform, a trick and it's just not that interesting.  Then I see someone perform the exact same thing, and the audience loves it.  Clearly, it has nothing to do with the cards, and everything to do with the audience interaction.

Anyway, close-up was great, then we went into a dining room and had some appetizers (if I had understood how the evening was going to go, we'd have ordered more food, but it wasn't clear, even to the native Spanish speakers).  The parlor show was good, Hugo loved it, and I was very happy about that.

So my last evening here I got to treat my good friends to something they enjoyed, and I'm feeling better about the transition out and looking forward to coming back here, no idea when, but feel like my friends will still be here and be my friends when I return. 

Interviewing

One of my stated purposes for coming is to use my Video Interviewing System to interview Spanish speakers, and then put their responses on the web as a resource for for Spanish learners to listen to native Spanish speakers.  I've really enjoyed the interviews, they've pretty much been what I had hoped they'd be: an excuse to talk with people and ask them more interesting questions.  People are very open and generous, and my interview with tonight's host was one of the best ones I did.

I had posted a message on Couchsurfing explaining the system, and Beatriz responded.  She's a 43-year-old doctor, two boys, lives waaaay out on the edge of the city of Buenos Aires.  I went out Sunday morning, her 13-year-old did an interview with me while she was preparing lunch.  Then we had lunch (empanada appetizer, then gnocchi's, with a nice red wine).  Then we did the interview, she was very open about a lot of things, I think she understood that the interview was more about capturing a moment in time for herself and her boys than it was about language learning.  

Had a great interview yesterday with someone who I'd like to introduce to Pablo.  Lots of common interests, including speaking English with barely an accent.   Great interview, lots of interesting stories.  The sound was bad, we met in a park, and shortly after we got there the leaf blowing folks showed up.  So we went to a coffee shop, but between the TV and the buses outside I'm not sure how it'll come out, but I hope so, the stories were really enjoyable to listen to.

Kissing Guys

I'm a big fan of adopting the local customs when traveling, e.g. drinking mate (though I did go through a half kilo of Starbuck's, too), eating dinner at midnight, speaking Spanish. I also adopted the custom of kissing everyone, including the guys, when greeting or saying goodbye to them. It takes a little getting use to, especially since it's no big deal to everyone else, so they're buzzing along around the circle and I at least want to exchange names. It's an air kiss (mostly), but still the cheek to cheek contact takes some getting used to.

My gay friends in DC do the lip kiss, and it's sometimes odd to be in the middle of a circle and watch someone go around a circle and stop at me to offer a handshake, but I doubt I'll ever be comfortable with that. But here, not offering or accepting a kiss as a greeting is viewed as odd as if you refused to shake someone's hand, it's much more pronounced to refuse the kiss exchange than it is to accept it.

And given my wounded hand, maybe kissing is the way to go anyway.

Doctor's Visit

So now I'm in the emergency room waiting area. My scrapes from the bike fall hurt more now than yesterday, so I'm assuming they're getting infected. I was going to to go the public hospital, which isn't that far away, just to experience socialized medicine, but this clinic was the first one I found, the wait is only about 15 minutes, so I figured it's better to pay the 150 pesos (around $43), and skip the cultural experiment.

But I realize that 150 pesos is a lot of money to most people here, that'd be about 10% of a entry-level professional monthly salary.

And of course, I'm annoyed with myself for not going to a pharamcy to get an ointment to apply, instead of just using the white soap and water.

--

Okay, 12 minutes later, I see the doctor, I foolish accept his handshake, which causes him to squeeze the now very sore scapes on the back of my hand. I explain my problem and diagnosis: I fell, and I think the scrapes are infected. He pokes around a bit, says they're not infected. I say they hurt more today than yesterday, he says that's normal, I say there's a pink ring around the wounds, he says that's normal, and if they don't get bigger, not to worry. He prescribes ice 3 times a day.

The doctor was insistent that an anti-biotic was unnecessary now, and that pretty much it was healing normally.

So $43 dollars (and gratefully not much time) later, I think I'll be okay. As long as I avoid shaking hands.

Winding down and Wrapping up

Although there's always more to do, things seem to be wrapping up nicely the last few days.  I feel like I have enough interviews (though hope to do one or two more), I had hoped to do a tour of the Jewish area but the tour company seems to not respond to email, maybe I'll get it in tomorrow.  I haven't bought much here at all, but found a pair of shoes I like.  I finally found some judaica for Dave and Natasha for their wedding.  I'm probably going to a play tonight.  I still don't have anything for my neice/nephews, nothing jumps out as anything they'd like or use.  I wish my Spanish were better, but I go pretty much go an entire day without using a dictionary or reverting to English, and one-on-one conversations feel pretty strong.

I stopped at a real estate office on my way home today, went through a little brain fantasy about having an apartment in a nice building in a nice area.  I doubt it'll ever happen, but it was fun to think about.

Not all parties are created equal

Well, if it had been my first couchsurfing event, it'd have been my last.  (Si hubiera sido mi primer evento de couch, también habría sido el último.)

There was a pizza party going on tonight (or, I guess more accurately, there "is" a pizza party going on tonight, I'm at the train station heading home, it's not a good fit for me, and I don't want to pretend it is.)  Probably not worth going into the details (a shame, since I tend to be much better at clever complaining than generous gratitide), but the short story is that I didn't particularly care for most of the people there, and everybody smoked.  Not everybody, in fact, none of the guys smoked, but all but two of the women did.  Philip Morris should be proud.  The party was outside, on a small patio, and the smoke put me in a pretty distant mood.

I had wanted to go to the theater, but I hate going alone.  I don't mind paying for others when I invite them to go out, in fact, I have it budgeted to do so, but it's a bit awkward at times, a date would be easier (at least in that respect), but now's not a good time for that either.  So I could go alone, maybe post a message looking for someone to join me, or take advantage of social situtions I'm invited to and go and enjoy speaking in Spanish and meeting new people.  Generally, the last option is a good one for me.

But tonight it wasn't, between the kid that was proud that he had never taken a bus here even after two months (ranting deleted...) and the hour-long ride because no one had the directions and me feeling guilty for asking the driver not to smoke in the car, it really just wasn't meant to be.

One reason I went was because I do like the host, who agreed to be interviewed a few days ago.  At this point, I'll close this post and shift to talking about the interviews, which have been much more positive.

Photography: As Photographer and Model

I enjoy photography, so I took 2 individual classes while I'm here, with an Argentinian photographer who used to live in NYC but is now back.  This morning, we went to Puerto Madero and La Boca and took a bunch of pictures.  I'll post some soon, definitely worthwhile doing the private class.

I also responded to an ad on craigslist from someone who was looking for people who wanted their picture taken.  She also lives in Palermo, so we walked around for about 90 minutes and she took lots and lots of pictures.  We put mascara on my arm to cover up the bike accident bruises -- mascara is an amazing thing.  Should be fun to see the pictures, I'll post the link to Flickr when she posts them.

I need to post some of my pics!

Mate (pronounced MAH-tay)

You might be tempted to associate dancing the Tango with Argentina, but in fact very few people dance it.  (People enjoy listening to the music and singing it, which generally tells of some tragic love story), but the dance is not universally popular.

Mate, a tea-like drink with a special cup and shared straw, is quite popular.  I love it, not for the taste, which took a while to acquire, but for the social rythmn that is implicit in sharing a mate.  Walk around any park in Buenos Aires and you'll see people carrying a thermos and a herb-filled gord with a silver straw (called a bombilla).  Sharing a cup of coffee means having your cup of coffee the same time someone else has theirs.  Sharing a mate you literally take turns, each person gets a cupful of hot water poured over the herbs, and they drink it until you hear a sound (the air, meaning that you've finished the water), then you pass it back to the pourer, who fills the cup and passes it to the next person.  Yes, you have to ignore the whole sharing a straw thing.  

I love this tradition, because it's a way of connecting with people, who love to sit for hours chatting and drinking mate.  Although I didn't like the taste at first, I adjusted to it, to be part of the whole culture.  Thank goodness I never smoked -- if I did, I'd probably be the one passing out cigarettes to experience the same sense of sharing.

So Hugo and I share a mate every morning (meaning, one thermos of hot water poured over the herbs, about 14 small cups in total, back and forth).  And I'm always pleased when I'm with a group of people and I'm offered a mate, the movie two nights ago, or playing frisbee, or wherever.  With the exception of Pablo and Hugo, it's been hard to make any real friends here, but sharing mate with folks, even folks I barely know, definitely gives me a comfortable feeling of being connected.

Late nights

It's 2:40AM, and I'm going to try to write a quick post before crashing -- I had wanted to write when I got home last night, or more accurately, this morning at 5:40AM, but I was too tired.

I love live theater, so I've been trying to catch a play, but with the Christmas and New Year's holidays it's been tough (it's also summer here, and anyone that can be is out of town).  I found a play and made plans with a friend to meet there.  When I arrived, I discovered that the play doesn't start until January 14, despite TWO ARTICLES AND  A PREVIOUS SIGN AT THE THEATER that said otherwise.  Argg.

The evening was not a loss, though.  Although it was too early to eat at 9:30, we walked around, had a drink, and then ordered dinner around 11.  After dinner, she knew of a party, so we went over to the apartment of a friend of hers.  At this point, I'm becoming conscious of the age and cultural differences, as it's past midnight, there's a party somewhere, so I'm thinking we should get going.  But no, there is a mountain of discussion, Instant Messaging, Text Messaging, some other people arriving and more discussion about who's coming and where they are.  More calls telling them to hurry up, etc.  

At long last, the group of 5 of us grab a cab and head to the party.  We arrive at 2:30AM.  We are the first ones there.  Seriously.  I kid you not.  For the next few hours, people keep arriving, I leave a bit after 5, with a wierd sensation that I should be drinking coffee instead of whiskey.  I am the first one to leave.  People ask why I'm leaving early.  They're not being sarcastic.

So I get home at 5:40, too tired to blog, and sleep all the way until 9.  Between the sun and light and heat and lack of A/C, I simply lack the ability to sleep.  Plus, I had got my fingers jammed in one of those very sliding door contraptions in front of old, old elevators.  It hurt.  A lot.  I had a cup of ice next to my bed where I kept my fingers until I went to sleep.

Today was great, two more interviews, which I'll blog about tomorrow.  But on my way to a picnic before an outdoor movie, I turned too quickly on a pretty mediocre bike and fell, it's not pretty, lots of bright red bruises (right elbow, right wrist, right knee, left palm.  hurt like hell, and still does).  After the movie, we head to dinner, which requires at least an hour of discussion and walking.  Fortunately, it's all in Spanish, so it "counts".  

There's another party tonight, at the house of one of the people I had dinner with.  So I guess the party is kicking into gear around now.

So it's 5 of 3, my left hand, with the smallest bruise, hurts the most.  Still, a lovely evening, nice group of folks, my Spanish is feeling strong, so all is well.  

Dogs and Mierda

I'm finally starting to get serious about the Video Interviewing System, and took the computer, camera and microphone over to a local park today to see how the light and soud would be.  It must have been dog-walker day at the park -- at least 15 dog-walkers, some with 10 or more dogs were at the park.  And instead of walking the dogs, the dogs were tied up to a tree.  And barking.  A lot.  So I walked over to another park that was a bit quieter.

Speaking of dogs and walking, probably my least favorite thing here is the dog shit on the sidewalk.  And there's a lot of it.  Not off to the side, next to a tree, or on some grass, but smack in the center of the sidewalk.  Once again, this is one of those cases where I don't trust the market, I don't believe that people will make the right decision on their own, and the heavy hand of the government is most welcome.  Alas, dog owners here have a different perspective, so walking requires constant attention.

Frisbee and Biking

Although I've gotten pitifully little exercise in since I got here, I managed to find two events on the same day that would qualify as athletic.  First, met up with a group of frisbee players, mostly ex-pats.  I'm used to simply playing, running around with little warmup besides biking to the Mall.  But these guys take their warm up seriously, it was 2 HOURS of tossing, stretching, calethenics (can't even remember how to spell the word, let alone do them!), and drills.  Finally we played.  A good-sized group at a pretty high level of play, so I didn't get as much playing in as I wanted (I'm happy playing 4-on-4 and running around a lot), but I was very happy to be playing.

That night, I did a ride with Critical Mass.  It really didn't qualify as exercise, but it was very cool to be riding around Buenos Aires from 10 to 11 at night.  The goal of the group is to bring awareness to the public about biking.  To accomplish this, they carry a huge boom-box playing at full volume, and several bikes have car alarms attached as horns, so at any point they can blast out the universal "I'm somewhere else and you're trying to sleep but my car alarm is going off and making you think about putting a brick through my windshield" noise.

Once we finally got to a restaurant and sat down (around midnight), the group was nice enough, but I hate noise.  Couldn't believe I was part of it.  Doubt I'll do it again with the group, but riding at night is pretty cool.

Planning; Lunch

I was supposed to have lunch with somebody I met online through Language Exchange, a site where people who want to practice their language skill meet.  We had plans to meet today, but I didn't have his phone number, and I guess he hasn't been online recently.  This phenomenom is pretty common, and Hugo tells me that every foreigner he's ever met has expressed suprised at how many plans seem to fall through.  

Thus, I'm eating lunch alone in a local parillia (grill), but actually quite okay with it.  Somehow this is easier to do when travelling than in DC.  Of course, it's also easy to eat well here.   My lunch of chorizo, 1/2-size steak, and a liter of beer is 25 pesos, less than $8.  Plus, I bought the newpaper yesterday, so I'm plowing through a few articles.  The article about the death of John Travlota's son was about the level of People Magazine, so no dictionary needed.  More difficult, but understable, was the article about the public transportation prices here rising 20-25%.  Israel attacking Gaza, on the other hand, is difficult to understand.  (double-meaning is intentional!)

San Telmo; Puerto Madero

I was going to title this "The Fair that Didn't Happen".  I was quite jazzed to spend Sunday at the Feria de Matadores, a big, colorful fair with lots of gauchos and food and picture-taking opportunities.   Alas, starting in January, the fair moves from Sunday to Saturday, so the trip was, well, a waste.  Such is the life of travel, anyone who's schedule works out perfectly when traveling isn't taking enough risks or being spontaneous enough.  But I looked up the website before I left!

But in fact the day wasn't a waste, Pablo and I went to San Telmo, a vibrant neighborhood near the center of the city, had chorizo and cheese (a slab of Provolone, thrown on the grill)  at a local restaurant, then walked to Puerto Madero, where lots of people and street performers were enjoying the warm but beautiful Sunday afternoon.  

Pictures and Video of the Camping Trip

An abridged version of the message I posted to the couchsurfing group, who I went camping with:

Here's the video of some of the group attempt at the alphabet song.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=vuLV-mUFNyU

Here are some photos on Flickr:

flickr.com/photos/cheztac/sets/72157612080116154/

Finally, some shout-outs:

Thanks to Eric and Anna for inviting me to join along, and for bringing whiskey.

Thanks to Leticia for offering space in the tent. Even though I didn't stay there, I might not have gone without knowing there was a space somewhere.

Thanks to Nacho and Anna for doing such a great job organizing.

Thanks to Maxi and others for the mate.

Thanks to Carlos for tossing the frisbee around, there are too few frisbee players here!

Thanks to Eduardo (I hope I have his name right) for playing the guitar.

Thanks to Cecilia and Maya? Mara? (argh, I hate not getting names right!) for the very enjoyable conversation about love and life and all the rest as 2008 was coming to a close.

Thanks to whoever cooked the asado, that was great.

Late Nights

I've been trying to connect with a friend of a cousin of a DC friend (or something like that), and finally made contact yesterday.  She said she was going out with friends for dinner, and that they would be going out afterwards and maybe we could meet up then.  So I went with Pablo and had dinner a block away from the place where they were meeting, and around 1AM got a text message that they had finished dinner and were heading to Congo, the bar/club.  As there was significant wait when we went to dinner, around 11, we were still eating at 1 and didn't finish until 1:30 or so.  

The point of this story is that things happen very, very late here.  And I was fried by 1:30, no way I could keep up a conversation in Spanish in a loud bar, especially with someone I've never met.  So I went home, on the one hand feeling old, on the other telling myself it's perfectly reasonable to be tired at 2AM and not want to go out.

The restaurants don't even open for dinner until 9:30 or 10, and there's almost always a line at midnight.  We had to wait 45 minutes tonight for a table, from 11 to 11:45, it's 2AM now and I just got home.

I'll write about today's frisbee game and the late-night bike ride tomorrow.

New Year's Eve

To finish the New Year's Eve story, I need to describe couchsurfing.com.  It's a social networking site that helps groups connect in person, and the Buenos Aires chapter is the third most active in the world, with over 3000 members.  Basicially travelers and locals post messages offering a couch to crash on or an idea with something to do, and others sign up.  So right before NYE, someone proposed going camping, and within 48 hours 28 people signed up.  Gotta love the internet.

I made it to the train station on time (in fact, we waited for a while for the rest of the group), took the train to Tigre, some of us went to the supermercado to get supplies (largely of the liquid variety).  I arranged to get beer and wine, since Anna and Eric had picked up meat for me to contribute to the "asado" (BBQ, but calling an Argentinian asado a barbeque is like calling the Grand Caynon a ditch.   Okay, that's an exaggeration, but an asado here involves LOTS of meat and fire, and is pretty awesome)

Couchsurfing folks are very nice.  Roughly half were visitors, all the Spanish-speakers spoke English fairly well, so communication was easy.  And beer and wine and whiskey was flowing, making things even easier.

Not surprisingly, the group is young.  Very young. Young enough where sleeping on couches or the ground or a bench or a bus seat isn't a big deal.  Alas, I am old and finicky and a light sleeper, so when we arrived and I saw there was a hostel next to the campsite, I got a room.  Room prices are per person, but everyone else from the group was prepared to camp, so I ended up in a room solo (perfect).

The party started about 5, I chatted with almost everybody, played a bit of frisbee, chopped some veggies, moved some tables and benches (the easy stuff) while someone, not sure who, prepared this awesome asado.  So from 5 until just before midnight it was non-stop chat, eat, drink.  Lovely.

At midnight we went down to the river, some folks swam (it was on the chilly side, so not me), some played guitar (I played the one song I still know, American Pie), and more chatting and singing.  At this point it was fairly dark, we wandered back to the campsite and around 1:30 I gratefully retreated to my room.

The next morning, I woke up early, around 7, and looked out at the campsite (I need to post some photos of what I saw).  Overnight, the campsite had turned into a marsh, almost into a lake.  It hadn't rained, but the river rose, and with it the groundwater.  Most people had already moved their tents once, sleeping bags were soaked, people were sleeping whereever they could find a dry patch, it was quite a sight.

The 18 pesos ($6) I spent on my room was possibly the best purchase of my entire life.  

Seriously, it would have been a major downer for me to wake up in a puddle, but most people seemed to take it in stride.  They used my favorite line "This will make a good story".  In this case, I get to tell the story without having lived through it.

I left on the early side, and I figured with the wet ground there wasn't going to be much frisbee or futbol and I was already up, while many people were still asleep (I heard most people went to bed between 4:30 and 6, which is actually pretty normal for a Argentinian party).

I hope to connect with some of the couchsurfing folks again, a really nice, welcoming group of people.  

Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream

(insert Men at Work tune here...)

Some people use the metric of dreaming in a foreign language as a sign of fluency.  I have yet to dream in Spanish, but last night my dream included two ex-novias.  Ugh.

One, who doesn't speak to me in real life, didn't speak to me in my dream either.  I had said something to her (in English), was ignored, so knocked on the door I was near, which turned out to be the apartment of another ex.  She and her new (real life) novio where there, and they announced that they were getting married.  Next week.  Wedesday.  2PM.  Did I want to attend.

I woke up reminding myself that I have no prophetic powers, but wondered if it was true nonetheless.

New Year's Eve: Camping And Couchsurfing

The morning of New Year's Eve I was still saying to myself "Don't worry, something will come up".  At the same time, I was sending email to everyone I know here (which isn't a very large list), and it seemed everyone had plans with their families before midnight.  I got invited to one party, but it didn't start until after the family dinner, basically 1AM-5AM, I would say I'm too old for that, but I never did those kind of parties, so it's not a matter of age!  (I used to program all night, but that's different).

Yesterday morning, as panic about having nothing to do for the evening was setting in, I emailed Eric and Anna, the couple I met in the park over the weekend.  Around noon, when I finished my Spanish class with Hugo, I read their email, which said they had decided to go camping with a group called couchsurfing, a website that allows travellers to connect, and has a huge BsAs presence.

The problem was that the group was leaving at 2PM, so I had 2 hours to pack, deal with a cell phone issue, get food, etc.  Food wasn't going to happen before 2, so I asked Eric and Anna to pick up something for the Asado (BBQ, but quite a big deal here).  They did, and I got confirmation from someoone else that I could crash in their tent.  I grabbed a cab and headed over to the train station.

Too tired to finish this posting, but wanted to post something and wishes for a Happy 2009!