Gap Year Adventures

I cannot believe that it is almost a month that I've been here! The weeks have positively flown by...and now it is almost March, time for me to move into my new residence and start my volunteering. I am moving out of my homestay and into a student residence that Road just got--it is a gorgeous building next door to the house where Jose Luis Borges grew up, with a big, airy kitchen on the top floor, a beautiful patio, and lots of rooms. It is made for up to 25 students, but there are only going to be 7 of us! It really is far, far too lucky that we get to live there. The best part is, it has just finished construction, so the walls and floors are all in perfect condition, we have all new appliances, etc, etc...really, I'm not exactly "roughing it" on my gap year! Anyway, I'm really lucky to be moving in there, and I'm going with some good friends, so that should be really good.

Aside from moving next week, things have been going along pretty normally--I'm still in the routine I wrote about previously. I get up late-ish, go to class, then have the afternoon either to hit a museum, do some shopping, go to the gym, or even sometimes take a nap! Usually, it ends up being a bit of a combination of all of those. Then, I either have dinner with my family and go out afterwards, or go for dinner with friends. This is all pretty mundane info, so I'm just going to illustrate a couple of details....

There are certain moments, or little details, that I know I am going to remember first when I think back to life in Buenos Aires. An obvious (and slightly disgusting) one plays a constant role in my life every day. On my walk to school, I cut across a small park a few blocks from my apartment building. It's your average neighborhood park--paths, not that much grass, big shady trees, dilapidated benches with bums sleeping on them, and trash strewn about. The center of this park, however, has a giant bull-pen looking area, a large, gated-off circle with sandy ground. My first few days, I wasn't sure what it was for, but on my first walk to school, I discovered. I walk through at about 12:30, and at that time, the pit is filled with dogs. There are probably at least 40 or 50 dogs in there at a time, most with their leashes trailing behind them, but a few tied to the gates. Sitting on a bench a few yards away are about 5 or 6 portenos drinking mate. Evidently, Parque Vicente Lopez is the happening place to go if you are a Buenos AIres dog-walker. (Also evident is that fact that very few portenos must walk their own dogs these days, as you see dog walkers with loads of dogs everywhere) Anyway, as if the sight of this bull-pen of dogs (0f every shape, size, color, and level of aggression) were not enough, it seems that they are not kept in the pen for their entire visit to the park. This, you see, is apparent from the cornucopia of dog poo that fills the paths. LIterally, every morning it is like navigating a land-mine trying to get around all of this poop! It can sometimes be quite the challenge, but is certainly a memorable facet of my daily life. You may wonder why Idon't just go around the park, walking an extra block or two but hence saving myself from a smelly afternoon. In reality, I enjoy experiencing this little dose of a life so separate from my own--seeing people doing normal jobs, and feeling like a "local" because I "know" the park and can "handle" the dogs....

Another fascinating and difficult aspect of life here in the city takes place on the Subte. When you are sitting in the car, little kids, clearly from the slums, walk through with some sort of cheap gadget or coloring book or post card, trying to sell them. There technique is interesting: they take one trip down the aisle, physically putting their tape dispenser or eraser on the passengers laps, and leave them there. They then come back up, and you either give them money for it (however much you see fit) or they take it back. Most people, I have learned, just don't touch whatever it is--as soon as you do, they pounce on you and expect you to buy it. In the middle of a hot, sticky, crowded Subte after a long day, this can be really irritating. The reality, however, is that it is dreadfully sad to watch this happen. Young kids (some can't be more than 5 or 6) are working god knows how many hours, doing a job that will get them little (if any) money and puts them in serious potential danger. I don't know all the information behind this trade, obviously, and am not sure if the parents send them out or if they choose to go, from where they get whatever goods they are selling, or even how long they spend doing this. There must be some strategy behind it, though, because the sight of those little kids does break a lot of people, and I can imagine they do better than the adults who sell things.

The children don't just sell in the Subte, though. Yesterday afternoon, there was a particular experience that stuck out to me. I was sitting with a friend, Alison, at an street-side table in a cafe on one of the main retail drags, Avenida Santa Fe. We had just ordered some coffee when two of this kids came through the cluster of tables. One had little sticks of super glue, and the other girl had some big coloring-book type things. They both, obviously put one in front of each of us. The girl the the books placed one in front of Alison, just sitting out from the table. When she turns to the next table, she knocked the book off our table with her backpack. Alison and I, not having much experience with these kids, but aware that we shouldn't generally touch the stuff, decided to just try to ignore it and continue our conversation. When the girls came back, they picked up the super glue and my book, and then the girl turned to Alison and gestured something. We kept saying "lo siento" (I'm sorry) and trying to get them to leave, but they wouldn't. The girl (she was probably about 8) just stood there, glaring at Alison. She barely said any words, but made it clear that she expected Alison to pick up the book, at least. Alison did, obviously, but handing it straight back to the girl. She stood there a few moments longer, glaring at Alison, and then turned away. We were both stunned. How are you supposed to know how to act in that situation? Obviously, we would have picked up the book, but we were worried that showing an interest just leads to even bigger problems, because then you are guilted into buying it. Maybe we should have given her a few pesos, just that once? But the problem is, these kids are everywhere, and you obviously can't give a few pesos to all of them. It's such a difficult situation.

It's also just fascinating in terms of the way the city works. You can spend months here, sticking mostly to the waterfront barrios of Palermo, Recoleta, Micro, and Puerto Madero, and you can almost forget that just a few bus stops away is a massive expanse of shanty towns. The size of the slums, and the number of people living in them, is an outrageous number. It is also, however, an aspect of Buenos Aires that becomes awfully easy to forget about. In fact, the children peddling goods on the Subte and coming up to tables at cafes are one of the only daily reminders you get that you are living in a drastically poor part of the world. Clearly, these children make a big impression, and are a facet of the BA lifestyle that I wanted to share on my blog.

Heading out now to a River Plate futbol match with my host family... xx

It has been absolute ages since I last blogged, but I have gotten so, so busy!! Classes are going really well--I have a fun group of people in my class and the teachers (they switch off days) are really cool. It's a great course because you learn a lot of things in context, rather than just working solely out of a textbook. For example, the other day we had a whole lesson on things you need to be able to say when you go out at night (including how to reject invitations!) and then worked that into a grammar lesson. It feel as though I have come a long, long way with my Castellano already. I met wit my "language partner" this afternoon, and we spoke in only spanish for almost 2 hours! Given, my grammar isnt particularly up to par and I talk entirely in the present tense, but still, it's pretty impressive how much I've picked up.

I've fallen into quite a nice pattern here. I get up at around 11 (seems late, but you'll understand), have some coffee, and do my homework. I leave for class usually around 12:30 and get to the CUI just before 1 (usually to ask questions about homework or just catch up with friends). Class goes from 1 to about 2:30, and then we have a break. We all head down to this cafeteria where there are loads of students and it is usually fairly hectic. Everyone only gets about 15-20 minutes break, and they aren't all at exactly the same time, so there is a lot of running back and forth between tables making plans and catching up over coffee, empanadas and alfajores (yum). We then race back up the stairs to class, usually late (whoops) and bolster through another hour or so of spanish. Class gets out at 4, at which point people usually mill about the building making plans, go to the internet room (some les fortunate folks do not ahve permanent wireless like I do!) and eventually head out. Sometimes I will go to a cafe with friends for a smoothie or even lunch if we haven't eaten during break. The afternoon then involves either shopping (haven't really bought that much yet, but there is so much to look at!) and then eventually heading home around 7 or so. Then, I'll go to the gym (there are awesome classes at my gym, and its literally two blocks from my apartment) and get home around 9 to shower and change. I'll then either have supper with my homestay family, or go out with friends to eat, or sometimes have dinner at home and then go out afterwards. There are so many amazing things to do here at night, it almost gets stressful deciding what to do!

Last weekend, I went to a town called Gualeguachu (pronounced Wally-Watchu), which is about 3 hours away on a bus. The buses are amazing--we paid 30 pesos (10 bucks) for a three hour ride in amazingly plush seats that practically stretch out flat! I slept the whole way (Hadn't slept much on friday night) and we arrived at about 7pm on Saturday. We wandered around the town for a bit (cute beach town) and then had dinner. We were in Gualeguachu for Carnavale--similar to the Carnavale in Rio every February, this was a HUGE parade and all-night street party that is fairly famous among portenos. We went into the parade stadium (I guess it was about 2 miles long?) and watched a ridiculously over the top parade go by. Every dancer was barely dressed and completely covered in glitter, feathers, and tassels...and the floats were huge and the music loud. All in all, it was an awesome atmosphere--tons of young people partying, but also a lot of families there with kids! The thing that I found so great was that it was so much more relaxed than anything similar I can imagine in the States. At Carnavale, people kept climbing over the barriers into the parade bit to dance with the dancers or take pictures with them, and the (few) police would usually join in with them before eventually sending them back out! Everyone is just so much less stressed and official about things here--which makes for a really great lifestyle.

Anyway, after the parade ended (about 3am) we all headed to this nightclub (all being, well, the entire town) and danced away for a few hours before heading back to the bus terminal. On our way, we stopped at a hamburger stand and had the best hamburger I have ever tasted. Another great, and true, fact about Argentina: the meat you get from a street vendor is probably 10 times better than anything you will find in the nicest of restaurants in the states. We arrived at the station just in time for our 6 am bus, on which we passed out and slept straight until pulling into the stop in BA. I grabbed a cab home and flopped into bed at about 9:30 on Sunday morning. I slept till 3, and then had a generally laxy day catching up on homework and running a few errands. Altogether, it was a great weekend--and a perfect taste of Argentine culture.

Last night, I went to something called "La Bomba de Tiempo" Every monday night, a venue in a really random part of town called the Konex fills up with every hippie in the city at about 8pm (decidedly early for portenos, but a permanent time for some reason). A 12 person drum band bangs away cool, latin-sounding rhythms as this entire crowd (and I'm talking about a seriously packed space) sways and jumps around to the music. The scene is hectic, smoky, loud, and unbelievably cool. The venue is awesome--a giant, open-air, empty lot sandwiched between some very artsy, run-down looking buildings, with bare walls and a bright red neon sign reading "Konex". It was a really cool night, especially because we got to see a totally different side of Buenos Aires, and a crowd that we usually don't find at the run-of-the-mill nightclubs. I pretty sure that La Bomba is going to become a weekly regular for us...especially since it is a super fun night that actually ends surprisingly early (you can grab dinner afterwards and be in bed by 12!) which is a excellent respite from the constant-dancing-till-6am we seem to find ourself partaking in, night after night.

Alright, off to another porteño night....hopefully I've given a good window into what my life is like here now. xx

Well, last I wrote it was Friday night, and it is now Tuesday morning, Yikes! I've been fairly busy, and although it's only a few days, it feels as though much more! I will try to be brief...only including interesting parts.

On Saturday, I woke up a bit earlier (just after 10) and went out for some walking/exploring. I visited Plaza San Martin, walked down Florida, a main pedestrian shopping thoroughfare, went to Plaza de Mayo, and then up to Plaza Congreso. This walk altogether was about 3 hours, and took me through several different neighborhoods, and loads of different, beautiful buildings. I then decided to head towards Puerto Madero, the newest-developed barrio, a strip along the river with several restaurants and high-class hotels. I thought I knew where I was going, but long story short--I ended up taking a two-hour detour during which I basically circumvented the entire area I was trying to get to, and then ended up in Puerto Madero, but on the opposite side. It involved walking through some areas that tourists are definitely not supposed to venture into (and me my in my New Balance sneakers and Nike shorts...) and crossing a few very nerve-wracking highways that aren't necessarily meant for pedestrians. I finally made it to a cafe on the riverside and flopped down in a seat. It took the last ounce of energy in me to ask from "agua muy frio, por favor!" Anyway, I regained some strength from a 7 peso bottle of water, took out my map, and figured out my route home (about an hours walk). I was determined, you'll notice, to walk everywhere, rather than taking a taxi or braving the collectivo (bus) system.

I made it home at about 4:30, hoping to rest. Let me say: figuring out the subtle dynamics of living in a homestay certainly takes some time. Often, I come home and, aside from a friendly greeting, am generally ignored and expected to go about my own business. Other times, Liliana tries to talk with me and it is clear that I'm expected to chat about my day. Still other times, I go into my room and sort of get a vibe that the family isn't really expecting me to be there at all. It's odd, because I am partly treated as a house-guest, but also sometimes treated as a distant, paying guest. Another tricky thing is that I like to keep my door open to keep the room cool, but when I do it gets a bit uncomfortable since there is usually a lot of commotion in Francisco's room, right next door. Since then, I have been able to figure out a lot more, but suffice it to say that on Saturday afternoon, I got home to a bit of a "what are you doing here?" vibe. I was exhausted, but convinced myself I should go out again. I wandered out to Avenida Santa Fe with the idea of shopping for some new shoes. (My flip flops are becoming a bit tough on my feet on these marathon walks, but sneakers are just not worn by portenas.) I popped into a few stores, but realised the many hurdles I had to jump before doing any shopping. First, I don't know any of the phrases like "Can I try this on?" or "Do you have this in another size?" To make matters worse, the sizing here is very bizarre. I have done a bit of googling on foreign sizes, but as far as I can tell, Argentina doesn't really correspond to any particlar format of sizing (aka the official US way, or the English way, or the European way, or even the Japanese way), the just have their own system. I think it might take me a bit of time to solve this dilemma...

Anyway, Saturday afternoon soon became evening. Its always so hard to tell which is which here, since some people have lunch at 4, but then around 5 you start to notice a bit of rush-hour traffic. I came home and met Speed, the other exchange student staying in our house. He is from Santa Fe, NM, his real christened name is Speed, and he speaks much better Spanish than I do. He his also taking classes at the CUI, but with a different program than I am. We had dinner with the family and one of Francisco's friends, Thomas. After dinner, Speed and i were invited to watch the River vs Boca soccer (futbol) game with the guys, which I think is a good sign. It was long, the announcers always yelled "Gooooooooooooooooaaall!", and River, fortunately, won the match. Futbol really is a religion here--everything in Francisco's room is covered with River Plate paraphernalia.

After the game, another friend of his arrived. His name is German (pronounced hair-mon) and doesn't really understand that German is a nationality. At about 1:30 the six of us (Francisco, his nurse, Thomas, German, Speed, and I) all piled into a big van (wheelchair in the back) and went to a couple of bars. I won't recount the entire night, but I will say that watching two semi-inebriated boys try to load a wheelchair into the back of a car at 5 in the morning was certainly a novel experience. I finally got to collapse into bed at about 6am--extremely tired, especially after being lost for almost 6 hours that morning.

Sunday morning involved a serious lie-in (I got up at about 1, but i suppose since i'd been sleeping till noon most days anyway, that isn't much of a difference!) and then spending quite some time trying to get the smell of smoke out of my clothes. Everyone smokes here, and although there are laws against smoking in bars and restaurants, they are strictly disobeyed by all portenos. I have finally admitted defeat against the battle against the smell, since the smoke permeates everything, and I will spend four months doing laundry if I try to not smell of smoke a little bit.

I then ventured out with Speed on the Subte towards this huge area in town that is just filled with parks--literally, the biggest open space I have ever seen in a city. We wandered around for a few hours, noticing tons and tons of locals sitting on the grass, sharing cups of mate. It's actually a really nice park, and I was a good chance to get to know Speed a bit. It was a fairly lazy day, though. We got home around 6, and just read, napped, and showered until dinner. Each night at dinner, I am picking up more and more of their conversations in Castellano, and I am contributing a tiny bit more each time.

Monday, I got up a bit earlier, as I had to meet up with my program at the R2A offices at noon. We met everyone (there are about 13 of us studying spanish, and all girls!) and then took a collectivo to our class building. When we got there, there was about 30 or 40 more people, and they were from 2 other programs, as well as a few just there without a program. There are 7 levels of classes, so our classes shouldn't be too big. Amidst the chaos, we were somehow divided into different rooms for an oral exam to figure out which level we'd be in. Mine consisted basically of "What's your name? - Nicola. Oh, esta Italiano? - No. Where are you from? - San Francisco. Ok you're in level 1." This was lucky, since I really do need to be in the lowest level. After the exam, we all got our textbooks, and then were told to come back tomorrow! Apparently, Monday was only the orientation, actual classes start today. A few girls from R2A all got together in the hallways, each looking equally lost. We decided to go out for some lunch, which was fun. I have only gotten to know about 8 of the girls, but so far they all seem really nice. I am by far the youngest--most are of gap years before grad school, but there are a few kids my age. Anyway, it was a good time, and we headed home at around 4. Yesterday was definitely the hottest day that I have had here--it was intense. I left the group and wandered around my neighborhood for a bit, trying to understand/ memorize where a few of the streets were. I finally game home, changed, and went for a quick run. Even as I was getting home from my run, at around 8, it was still blazingly hot. Anyway, I showered and changed and then went out for supper with Hank and Jessica Slack, which was so nice. They are here for a bit of business, which is very lucky for me. It was so nice to see a familiar face after 5 days of being totally lost here, and especially since it was Hank!

Today, I got up and dressed, spilt my coffee on my white tank top (of course), changed, and then wrote this. I am now heading out to buy a newspaper and a water bottle before heading to class. I have class every day from 1-4, so I should be getting lots of morning free time, which is great. Anyway, after class I think I am going to check out Palermo Viejo, and area where the shopping is supposed to be incredible. Afterwards, I am having dinner with Jero, a friend of Nick Drake who's a friend we met in Costa Rica this christmas.

Altogether, I am getting more and more adjusted each day, and slowly picking up lots of really subtle things about life here, and the general do's and dont's. I have a good feeling about this. xx

p.s. disclaimer: I always end up writing these right before I have to leave, so I never have a change to read over them. Please excuse the typos and grammar errors!!

Third day here, and feeling much more settled. Yesterday's tour was good as I got to see a lot of the city all in one go (the only time I've been in a vehicle since I got here) and figure out where the interesting looking areas were. He also told us a lot about the history and the culture of BA...it is very complicated, but basically years of unstable government and civil unrest have led to a phenomenally eclectic culture. It really is diverse on every level: the art, the food, the architecture, the customs, and the public opinion about everything from politics to futbol!

After my tour, I ended up in the Recoleta Cemetery, which is a world-famous "necropolis", or "city for the dead". The graves are more like tombs, and many of them have room for up to 40 bodies underground. Once a family is in, they are there for eternity. Families pay a fee for the upkeep of the tombs, but if a family dies out or is no longer able to pay, they are not "evicted" but the janitorial services are terminated! This leaves gleaming, ostentatious marble standing next to a weathered old stone with weeds growing from the front step--quite a sight. After the cemetery, I thought I would be able to figure out how to get home, but I was much mistaken. I ended up walking two huge loops around the area before realizing I had been going in circles...and at this point became a bit panicked. Getting lost is always sort of funny when you are with other people, but by yourself it can be quite intimidating! The thing that really trips you up is that every map you find is printed with a different orientation, aka north is not always north. Because of the way the city is situated on the river (with the river running approximately northwest to southeast, a normally oriented map (with north at the top, etc) doesn't really make sense on a map. Thus, some maps flip it completely upside-down, some tilt it a bit to the side, and some leave it as a normal map. To add insult to injury, the river curves a bit, so the streets are not all straight up and down or side to side. Instead, there are a few main ones running across the city, and then lots of streets that all start at the river and go straight for a while before veering off either left or right. An example: if you start at the downtown end of Santa Fe and walk up, against traffic (forgot to mention that there are barely any two-way streets, very strange) you will be walking away from the river in what is officially a western direction. Walk for 30 or 40 blocks, though, and you will find yourself suddenly headed north. This can get very difficult. I suppose, once you know the city like the back of your hand, you just remember that North/South/East/West doesn't really mean anything....but until then, I think I am going to be doing a lot of backtracking.

After a difficult couple of hours wandering the streets, I finally made it back to the apartment. Again, I offered to help with dinner, and again, Guadeloupe declined. The food we have is probably not that interesting, but I have to mention this dinner. We had what seemed like they should be chicken patties (appropriate color and shape, and seemed to be breaded) that were topped with a grilled tomato and, of course, chimichurri. The "chicken", however, had more the consistency and taste of a dense, wet bread. I am still assuming it was chicken, but I'm not certain. Anyway, during dinner Guadeloupe and her husband, Damien, game me a mini-lesson in Spanish, or "Castellano" as it is called here. I'm finding more and more that I have actually picked up a lot of things (verbs, expressions, stuff like that) from listening to friends speaking spanish or just reading things here and there. Also, the similarities with french are huge, so I can figure a lot of stuff out from that. Their lesson was extremely helpful, especially since they armed me with the basics for exchanges in shops and restaurants. I am looking forward to getting to my real class, though.

After another late night (jet lag) I woke up this morning just before noon (a bit embarrassing, but Guadeloupe didn't seem to mind) and showered before heading out to buy some flowers for Liliana, who arrived today. I also had a very funny exchange with a man in a papeleria (I think this is what it is called--a paper store?) when I was trying to buy a blank notebook. I finally got one, though, which was lucky since I have been taking lots of notes on Spanish since then! Later this afternoon, I met up with a contact of Dad's who I had emailed with earlier in the year. She (an Argentine woman) and her husband (an American) were extremely helpful, giving lots of tips on Argentine life and culture and what I should do. One thing that surprised me (I never would have thought of it) is that apparently the television is a fairly central part of Argentine family life. Daniel encouraged me to watch TV with the family once or twice, if they invite me, both out of respect and as a way of learning about their media culture. It is all quite interesting...especially coming from a family where the parents barely know how to work the remote!

I got home that evening to a dog barking its head off at me. I knew that had a dog, but I hadn't expected it to be quite so ferocious. I called "Hola?" a few times, but didnt hear anything, and suddenly worried that they had left the house. I had visions of myself being mauled by this aggressive little Argentine dog, and the family (who I had yet to meet) returning home, stepping over me, and shaking their heads, muttering "stupid american..." Luckily, such a fate was swiftly avoided when a small, young-looking woman came out of the kitchen, on the phone, and yelling at the dog. She gestured with me to wait a moment, finished her call (as the dog leapt at me) and then looked up with a warm, welcoming smile. Liliana, my homestay mother, is tiny, tan, and very friendly. She speaks no English, but we soon established that she knew a bit of French, which is extremely lucky for me. Between my little bit of spanish and her bit of French, we have been able to communicate quite well. She is much more talkative than Guadeloupe was, but I think that is just attributable to Guadeloupe being a bit shyer. Liliana has been really nice so far, so I think that once my Spanish gets a bit better, we will talk much more.

I was also introduced to Francisco, Liliana's youngest son. He is 17, and is in a wheelchair--I think he is a paraplegic. I haven't been given much information on his condition, other than the fact that they have a "paramedico" who looks after him 24/7. The paramedico was a young-looking boy (probably in his 20's?) who was with Francisco all the time, until another boy came at about 10 and clearly changed shifts with him. I guess the nurse sleeps in one of the rooms in the back, but I am not sure. Anyway, Francisco can barely speak and cannot feed himself or anything, but things seem to run fairly smoothly in the household. I also found out that another exchange student is going to be staying at the house. A 17 year old boy from the States is arriving tomorrow and is going to be studying Spanish as well. I hope he is friendly!

I am getting ready for bed now, as I am trying to go to sleep earlier so I don't wake up at noon again! More later. xx

I am feeling much more settled now, after a good 24 hours here. Yesterday afternoon I had a quick "orientation" from Agu, a rep from the organization that I am here with. (It's called Road 2 Argentina, and from here on in: R2A.) He gave me my argentine cell phone, and a backpack with maps and coupons for different places they reccomend checking out. He left at about 3, saying he would see me on Monday to take me to my first class. I figured I couldn't just sit around the house until then, so I set out on my first solo jaunt through the city. I aksed Guadeloupe what time I should be home by, and she said they usually eat dinner at around 9pm!! I couldn't imagine a) what I would do, alone, until then and b) how I would stay awake!

I left the house and headed for a "locutoria" which is basically an internet cafe/phone booth shop where you can make international calls for cheap (but why use that when I've got skype??) and asked for the computer. (This is before I discovered that we have internet in our home) IT was my first interaction with somone entirely spanish, and I was extremely nervous...when I finally paid, he told me the price and I thought it sounded like "16" (which is way too much for ten minutes of internet anyway) so I handed him a 20 peso note. He gave me a funny look (lump in my throat rising) and started counting out change...turns out the internet had cost only 60 cents!! I bolted from the shop with my change. Hopefully, I won't need to check my email there ever again!

I then started walking down Avenida Santa Fe--it's a big shopping drag with lots of stores and locals milling about. I went into a few stores, but was too nervous to touch anything, let along try anything on! I've got plenty of time for shopping, though. Santa Fe finally hit Avenida 9 de Julio, a long and HUGE (5 lanes of traffic on either side, then middle walkway things, then another two lanes of traffic and parking lanes on each side, and then a really wide sidewalk) that leads a long way across town towards the Plaza Constitucion and the Obelisco (a tall, Washington Momument-esque structure with a plaza beneath that appears to be a hot-spot meeting point for tourism groups.) I strolled around, feeling ridiculously conspicuous for no reason other than my own lack of local street-smarts, and ended up outside a HUGE McDonald's in an area that seems to be BA's answer to Times Square. I was tempted to go in for a Happy Meal, simply due to the promise of something familiar, but I quickly remembered how disgusting they are, and hurried past. I found a side street that I can't remember the name of and turned down it. It was one of those streets where cars can't drive, and is purely for foot traffic. There were tons of shops, cafes, cinemas, and, of course, people. I assumed they would be tourists, but I overheard an awful lot of Spanish and not much English, which was slightly disheartening. I continued to walk around for a bit with my stomach grumbling, blisters forming, and, luckily, that lump in my throat slowly but surely subsiding. I eventually found my way back onto Av 9 de Julio, and stopped at a little street cafe for a bit bottle of aqua con gas. The waiting seemed angry that I was only getting water, so I ordered an "empanada", which is something of a local delicacy. Turns out, this little cafe was probably not the ideal spot for my introduction to these empanadas. Generally, they are spoken of as delicious bready pastries filled with either meat or cheese, large enough for a whole meal, and often eaten on the spot in your hands. (Sort of like buying a hot-dog on the street in NYC.) Mine was smaller than my palm, filled with a really pungent cheese, and had clearly been for a turn in the microwave: it had that texture of a bagel that has been microwaved and is good for about 10 seconds while it's still hot, but then becomes chewy and impossible to eat. I sat there reading through my Time Out: Buenos Aires and getting lots of ideas about the place's I'd visit in the coming days.

I paid my bill and made my way back to M.T. De Alvear (my street) and was soon flopped on my bed in the apartment. I read for a little while, but soon fell asleep. I woke at about 8pm to the sound of the TV next door (basically always on) and dragged myself up. I hopped in a much-needed shower and got dressed before asking Guadeloupe if she wanted any help preparing dinner. She declined. I was at a loss --isn't helping to peel potatoes what house guests are supposed to do?? I went back to my BA books and maps for a while until she called me for dinner. We had mashed potatoes and hamburger patties...sort of an odd combination, but I took it happily. Everything, of course, was doused in "chimichurri" sauce, which is an oily paste with a bunch of herbs and some sort of spice (red pepper flakes?) and is actually quite tasty. During dinner, I got to know Guadeloupe a bit more, and she warned me that her brother and mother, who arrive on Friday, speak absolutely NO english. I told her enthusiastically that this was what I was hoping for, and that though it may be tough to start, I would be forcing myself to learn it as I went along. After dinner she offered me to watch TV with her, but I quickly headed for bed. I turned on my computer to discover that I did indeed have internet access in my room (brother's computer has a wireless connection, but I can only connect when it is switched on) which was lucky, and I found several emails from R2A!

I got into bed and was soundly asleep until about 9am, when I rolled over, tried to get up, and convinced myself I would get up at 10. 10 came, and I told myself that 11 would be better. 11 came and went, and I finally got up at about ten to 12 (not because I wanted to, mind you, but because I felt I ought to. Jet lag is quite a pain...) Guadeloupe asked me if I wanted breakfast, and showed me where everything was. I had a cup of very strong coffee, and then came the ultimate Argentine surprise. She asked me if I'd ever tried Dulce de Leche. I'd had it in ice cream and knew what it was, but I told her we didnt eat it regularly in the US. She laughed, rolled her eyes knowingly, and reached into the fridge for a plastic container of the stuff. She told me they eat it on toast for breakfast. That's right, here in Argentina, we have strong coffee and caramel on toast for breakfast. Now this, I could get used to...the funny thing is, they all seem to admit that they realize how unhealthy this choice is, but they seem to eat it anyway!!

After breakfast I booked myself on a driven tour, which I have to leave for right now, actually! xx