Pilgrimage to Tierra Santa

On Thursday, after eating a late breakfast at my friend Erin's new place, I was delighted to hear that Santa Tierra didn't open until 4 pm and that I would still be able to meet up with Josh, Bennett, Nick and Emery in time to check out the park. For those of you lacking in Spanish vocabulary, the park is called Holy Land and holy it is and holy it must be treated. On the dock outside the park we did a little bit of research in Bennett's guide book and discovered this is park is no where near being a joke, it is actually more of a place of pilgrimage that might be as close as some people will ever come to the Holy Land and in reality its the closest any of us will come to the Holy Land at the time of Jesus' death. So without further adieu I bring you our pilgrimage to Tierra Santa because the pictures really speak for themselves:

Outside the park getting serious before entering

Sign before entering the park giving a history and background

Ticket window: Everyone who works in the park is dressed in the garb from the time of Jesus

Josh and Nick in one of the many tunnels that network around the park with strange displays

Adam and Eve

I'll bet anything there were no "No Smoking" signs in the Holy Land at the time of Jesus

The Annunciation

Visitors to the park are on somewhat of a schedule. There are different shows that go on a schedule meant to keep visitors moving around the park. First for us was the nativity scene. The show works by lighting up different parts of the stage at different times to create amazing effects like this one. Angels in the sky and laser lights!!


The Nativity scene

Walking around the park there are statues EVERYWHERE. Not one inch of space is wasted.

The synagogue was across the street from the mosque where you had to remove your shoes before entering. The synagogue had little display windows with Jewish artifacts in them. The whole thing was like a crappier version of a religious Epcot.

Shrine to Gandhi...not sure what this has to do with anything

Statues you didn't have to pay to use or wait in line for!!

Me as a Holy Land Lady

Josh as a Holy Land Lady
S@$& gets real

Last Supper show

Flogging

Getting checked out by a Roman Soldier while Josh isn't looking

Wailing Wall that people have actually placed paper notes in as if it was the real one

Fountain of Angels, and Nick

THE RESURRECTION:

Yes, this is a forty foot Jesus that came out of the mountain to the Handel's Messiah. Out of Control!!


And then the forty foot Jesus returns into the mountain.

Crucifixes in the sun.

A view of the Holy Land in front of a view of Buenos Aires

Amazing

The Sacred Heart

Our Last show was Creation:

Everything was in Spanish...but in the beginning there was nothing...and then GREEN LASERS!!!

The moon

Stars

Land

Simba!!

One by one animals were brought out and then made their sound and did some movement. This elephant's trunk moved up and down.

A giraffe that munched on leaves

And last but not least Adam and Eve!

The park was great and I can't wait to go back when Mia and Kenney come, but this time we will go at night because I have a feeling there is a whole new level of intensity when the resaurection happens at night and everything is lit up and even more dramatic. I would recommend this to anyone whole comes to Buenos Aires no matter what your religious affiliation. It is not to be missed.

Moneda Crisis

Josh's mom Shelley, his brother Jacob, and last but not least his sister Hannah know all about what I'm going to share with you today. When they visited it was difficult for them to accept. We had to train them. We had to scold them when they did wrong. But in the end there was no way any of them would give up their precious monedas (coins) and they proudly boasted when they were given a shiny new peso to be tucked into their pockets.
The moneda crisis is one familiar to those who live in Buenos Aires where the buses or collectivos only take change. "No problem," an ignorant US citizen might reply to a person lacking in the necessary monedas for their bus trip. "Just go to a convenience store, or as you call them in Buenos Aires a kiosko, and ask for some change." "Hah!" I would reply. Because here is Buenos Aires there are signs in all the windows saying "No hay monedas." This literally means: there are no monedas. At a kiosko i was flatly told "No hay monedas" when I needed to get on the bus for an interview and the banks were not open yet. But of course when I bought a nasty pack of want to be gusher Halloween candy I was given my needed peso for the trip. Lying boludo...but then I really can't blame him because how many times have I lied through my teeth while fluttering my eyelashes and saying as innocently as possible "oh, no tengo monedos," or "no tengo cambio, disculpe me." Often this will result in a shiny new peso, or ten tiny ten centavo coins, but frequently the cost will just go down to ignore the change, or as has happened to me on occasion the fed up store clerk will grab the item I am trying to buy off the counter and make it clear if I'm not going to give some coins up then I'm not a welcome customer. Shocking, I know. Now why the bizarre shortage of coins? An article my friend Erin sent me explains all:

Yes, We Have No Monedas!Inside the world's most annoying economic crisis.

By Joe KeohanePosted Wednesday, Dec. 3, 2008, at 6:58 AM ET

It was no surprise that the cab driver tried to rip us off. We're in
Buenos Aires, Argentina, after all, and we'd made the rookie error of
requesting a vague destination instead of giving a precise
address—naturally he interpreted this as a license to take us from La
Boca to the Plaza de Mayo by way of southern Nicaragua. What we hadn't
expected was the predicament the driver found himself in when it came
time to pay. The fare had come to 14 pesos and 6 centavos. I proffered
a 20-peso note (worth about $6.70), and he handed back 50 centavos,
suggesting that I was going to be shorted 44 centavos. Then he
realized that continuing on this course would require him to give me
two 2-peso notes and a 1-peso coin. He sighed dramatically and gave me
three 2-peso notes instead. Factoring in the 50 centavos he had
already handed over, this effectively reduced the fare to 13.50 pesos,
which, for reasons I'll get to in a moment, is actually more than
14.50 pesos.


Welcome to the world's strangest economic crisis. Argentina in
general—and Buenos Aires in particular—is presently in the grip of a
moneda, or coin, shortage. Everywhere you look, there are signs
reading, "NO HAY MONEDAS." As a result, vendors here are more likely
to decline to sell you something than to cough up any of their
increasingly precious coins in change. I've tried to buy a 2-peso
candy bar with a 5-peso note only to be refused, suggesting that the
2-peso sale is worth less to the vendor than the 1-peso coin he would
be forced to give me in change. When my wife went to buy a 10-trip
subway pass, which retails for 9 pesos, she offered a 20-peso note and
received 12 pesos in bills as change. This is commonplace—a daily, if
not hourly, occurrence. It's taken for granted that the peso coin is
more valuable than the 2-peso note.

No one can say what's causing this absurd situation. The government
accuses Argentines of hoarding coins, which is true, at least to some
extent. When even the most insignificant purchase requires the same
order of planning and precision as a long-range missile strike, you
can hardly blame people for keeping a jar of monedas safe at home. The
people, in turn, fault the government for not minting enough coins. In
fact, the nation's central bank has produced a record number of
monedas this year, and the problem has gotten even worse. Everyone
blames the bus companies, whose buses accept only monedas. (Buenos
Aires' 140-plus bus routes are run by a number of separate, private
companies.) These companies, exploiting a loophole in the law, run
side businesses that will exchange clients' bills for monedas for a 3
percent service fee. This is legal, but the business community also
routinely complains of being forced into the clutches of a thriving
moneda black market—run by the local mob, or the bus companies, or
both—in which coins sell for a premium of between 5 percent and 10
percent. The bus companies steadfastly deny any involvement in this
racket, but their claims were undercut by the discovery of a hoard of
13 million coins, amounting to 5 million pesos, in one company's
warehouse this October.

Now us international Frisbee tournament players know the real answer. Want to stock up on coins simply go to the beach where no one takes the bus and they give those coins away at Kioskos. When getting on the bus to go home Nick proclaimed "Man, this place is awesome, I'm swimming in monedas!!" Its the little things in life...especially when my local bank refuses to give more than three to four away at a time...So the next time you buy your roll of quarters for laundry, just give a little sigh of thanks that doing battle with store clerks has not become part of your daily routine in your search for cambio (change).

Monte Hermoso and the World Famous International Frisbee Tournament (this is a long one folks)

I must begin with an apology for disappearing like this, I know it must have been hard for some of you (Mia) who ignored previous posts mentioning that we would be going away for the three day weekend for a beach Frisbee tournament. I recognize that I should have posted right before leaving saying we would be away, but of course we are us and packed like crazy at the last second and I had no time. Of course when we arrived at the designated meeting spot (the Burger King in Plaza Italia) a few minutes late we were the second ones there only to be beaten by another couple from the US. We had a good laugh about how we still have yet to adjust to the lack of punctuality here. Turns out we had plenty of time anyway because the gas stations were on strike and refused to pump any gas. Our bus was an hour or so late because it had to go back to wherever it came from to make sure it had enough gas for the trip. Typical!
But let me start at the beginning...a very good place to start:
This weekend was a three-day weekend celebrating the Immaculate Conception and what better way to celebrate this miracle than with a Frisbee tournament on the beach in Monte Hermosa (ONLY a nine hour bus ride away from Buenos Aires). We left Friday night and the party began before the bus arrived. Whisky, Fernet (the perteño favorite) and beer circulated the ever growing crowd and the party continued on the bus. I of course had not napped that day thinking it would be wise to be as tired as possible for a nine hour bus ride, but for a few hours everyone was running around, playing and listening to music, and taking field trips to the bottom or the top deck of the bus (yes we had a double decker bus!!) Some of the porteñas had homemade alfajores (an amazing Argentine snack involving cookies filled with dolce de leche), we had our PB&J sandwiches, and everyone else had their jamon y queso sandwiches (the PB&J of Argentina) and all was shared as is the culture here (much to the delight of our US friends who had not consumed an ounce of peanut butter since arriving). Honestly I could probably write a whole post on the culture of sharing here, but let me just say I was meant for this place. Everyone who knows me knows I love to share my food, but even more I love to share other peoples food. Here people usually don't even ask, they just gently take whatever it is you are consuming from your hands, have a bite or a sip and give it back. Other times someone will just pass their food or drink around without being asked to. Everyone participates and everyone benefits! At parties there will often be no glasses even though people rarely have personal bottles of beer. Instead beer is generally bought in 1 liter bottles and at parties they are passed around by a group of people until it is finished or set down on some surface until another person passes by and takes it up again. Germaphobia does not exist here however liters of beer are the only beverage where it is ever appropriate to drink from a bottle. Any other time it must be done with a straw if one is on the go, or with a cup if you are at a restaurant. Even at the gas station cups are automatically handed out with your Gatorade, juice or soda. It’s amazing.
I also met some new people, and talked to this new guy Dave from Australia who happened to be passing through Buenos Aires on this particular weekend. He is a Frisbee fanatic and so of course found our website and agreed to pay the three hundred pesos for the trip. This is just one example of the spirit of Frisbee. People who love it play it everywhere they go whenever possible.
Finally everyone began to settle down (as did my stomach after getting rather angry at me for consuming such cheap whisky) and Josh and I nestled into our seats. Now something you should know is that the buses in Argentina are amazing. This was the cheapest level of bus and the seats go back waaaaaaaaaaaaaay farther than any coach bus I've ever been on. They also have these amazing leg rests that come down from the seat in front of you giving you a very comfortable semi reclined resting place. Add Josh's shoulder and sweatshirt to the equation and it equals me passing out hard for a good five hours.
Before we fell asleep though, Josh touched my shoulder and told me to look out the window. My eyes opened wide when I saw the amazing display of stars out my window. I could only see a quarter of the sky, but it must have been the good quarter. The Milky Way was practically vertical here instead of horizontal and continued very close to the horizon. I could see Cassiopeia on the horizon as well and realized I had never seen any stars this close to the horizon (even in Great Barrington where the light pollution is almost non existent), but there were too many stars for me make out much else not to mention my armature star gazing status. It was breathtaking though, and I felt small and safe in my double Decker bus. I gazed out thinking my thoughts until I must have fallen asleep.
I awoke around five hours later with a bursting bladder and was forced to use the bathroom, and we arrived shortly after.

Nick waking up on the bus next to Daniel
Nice shot of Daniel looking out the window

Our bus outside the apartments we stayed at. Do they even have deer here? The picture speaks for itself.

Josh and I were staying in "the apartments" which were really like very small town houses. Our "apartment" consisted of us, both the Nicks and a guy named Andrew. He's older than us and has a real job but is from the States and has been only one month longer than we have. It was nice to stay with him because he's also new to Frisbee (well not the game, but the Buenos Aires league) and I had not had the chance to speak with him much before. Turns out, like everyone else he is really cool, nice and great to be around. Shocker. Is anyone who plays Ultimate not cool?
We had arrived at nine, and began to play at 11. In the mean time we foraged for food in the small town of Monte Hermosa and cooked up an historic breakfast of eggs before liberally applying sunscreen and heading out to the beach.
When we arrived 2.5 minutes later (we were one block from the beach) we were greeted with a very professional playing field. The field was outlined in red flat ropes and there were big Monte Hermosa flags on at the back of both end zones. There was a scoreboard and a tent to huddle under when el sol got too hot. The whole thing was ridiculously professional.
We had been divided into 6 teams on the bus, five people on the field at a time. My team consisted of our Captain Steve (from the US but living here for a very long time) Katsu (Japanese), Sabina (porteña), Juliana (US study abroad), Felipe (Columbian), Factura (porteño), and Alejandro or something (not sure his deal). Our team name was Katsumaki combining Katsu's name and the Japanese word for a hurricane. We won our first game and lost our second. I played pretty well and even scored in one of the games (I think against Aguavida (jellyfish in Spanish).

Josh's team was called Super Hands. Here Betti, Andres and Nick get ready to continue play.

Here are those of us who were not playing enjoying some maté on the sidelines.

We realized the games were too long and the sand was at times unbearably hot, and packed it in after all the teams had played two games. I gleefully ran to the ocean for one last time that day and then it was back to the apartments for a shower and some cards before dinner.

The city of Monte Hermosa at dusk

Dinner was at this ridiculous beer fest that was happening in honor of the opening weekend of the beach. There were tables set aside especially for us and the crazy tall dude on stage dressed in a ridiculous German outfit singing German beer songs in Spanish gave us a shout out.

Our long tables filled with exhausted players

Yet people still dance after little sleep and exerting themselves all day

I was not kidding about the crazy German Dude

As we waited in line for some food he began to sing New York, New York and Nick and I decided to leave the party early. Both not in the mood for it and were exhausted we found a cute local place and had some steak. Of course there was one waiter for the whole place and it took us 40 minutes to order let alone eat, but my Steak A La Raul was fantastic. After dinner Nick got this ridiculous popsicle stick that came with an extra piece you could attach to rotate your popsicle stick. The picture speaks for itself and the absolute absurdity of the situation:


We passed out before one and woke up much more revived then some of our other friends who had stayed up till three. This morning Nick had cooked breakfast (eggs again) and after a fortifying breakfast of eggs and beer we hit the beach for a serious day of Frisbee.

Each team had to play five games! The games were shortened, but still, that's a lot of Frisbee for a girl who hasn't exercised this much since high school.

The games begin on the even hotter sand the next day

Poor burnt Juliana and happy unburnt me!! I was OBSESSIVE with the sun screen!!

Josh tries to block Andrew but he still makes a back hand throw

My action shot!! I actually threw the Frisbee...and it went to a person!!

My personal highlight was an amazing block I made. I was guarding an impossible tall porteña whose name escapes me at the moment and the disc was thrown towards her in the end zone. Now defense is not one of my strong points yet (well I'm not really sure if I have any yet) but this girl was very hard to guard seeing as she was fast and tall. Anyway, so we are racing towards the end zone, the disc has almost arrived at its destination, and at the last second I jumped into air, leapt higher than maybe I ever have before, and threw my arm in the air with all I was worth. As I flew through the air in slow motion my hand made contact!! And I smashed the disc to the sand with as much force as possible. I fell to the ground and rose to cheers!!! Another thing about the spirit (or in Spanish espiritu) is that sportsmanship is taken to a new level. Even the girl I had blocked congradulated me. It was great.
I didn't feel so great though during the rest of that game. The sand was unbearable hot even though starting the day before those in charge had taken my suggestion of watering the field in-between plays and games. It was so hot out that the entire field was never wet at once, and my already sensitive feet from the day before were in agony. As I cut into the end zone to look for a pass I literally heard yelps coming from my mouth and also from the mouth of my mark. We ran back to some damper sand practically screaming in pain. This problem was later solved with the use of socks, but I can tell you playing beach Frisbee in socks is no picnic either.
After four games and as many trips into el mar (the sea) my team played for third place. I was so tired I can honestly say that I never stopped trying, but I took myself out because I was helping no one. My legs were shaky and my defense was only helping the other team. We took fourth, but it was a close game and I was just glad it was over and I wouldn't have to play anymore.
I spent the rest of the time taking pictures and watching Josh win the finals and watching the sun set over the beach. It was beautiful.

The start of Josh's final game: jersey's are donned

Frisbee at dusk: Josh is on the right in red

Josh's team wins!!!!

Josh leads his team through the tunnel

Felipe, Myself, Diego and Josh after the finals

Afterwards I helped clean up a bit and then Josh and I waded in the rising tide watching the end of the sunset. It was cloudy but there was an oval hole in the clouds letting in rays of sunlight. It looked like a Michelangelo. We just stared at it and marveled at how unbelievable and incredible lucky we are. The decisions that brought us to this country weren't luck, but the incredible good fortune we have had from our family's support to meeting these incredible people (we have Nick to thank for that) and then this beautiful weekend at an incredible beach...well enough of the sap, you get it, it was amazing.


We headed back up the beach cold but happy and hit the shower in a bit of a rush seeing as our bus was leaving in ten to take us to a golf club for an asado. Surprise surprise we were the first ones on the bus. I should just set my clock back.

Andres plays some guitar as the sun finally disappears

We got off the bus at the end of a long dark driveway, but colorful candles lighted our way our friend Paula had brought with her from Columbia where it is a tradition to do so on the day of the Immaculate Conception. It was beautiful.

Paola smiles with her colorful candles

We arrived at this cute little "club house" that seemed to me to be in the middle of the woods so I'm not sure where the golf was...but no matter. We sat at long table and were served salad, beer, wine, soda and many different cuts of beef. First there was chorizo, then there was bife de lomo, vacio, ribs, you name it. By the time they were bringing out the last cuts I was so full I was wishing I were at home on the couch so I could unbutton my pants. Lucky for me there was no dairy to be found at this meal or I really would have wished I were home.

One side of my table

The other side. Notice mouths always open cause that meat didn't stop coming!

Now it was time for DJ to turn the music up and for the dancing to begin. Time to work off some of that beef. We danced for a while and then it was time for the closing ceremonies. Medals and trophies were handed out (I wasn't joking about how professional this whole thing was) and superlatives were given. My favorite team, Disco Flash, won most spirited, and my friend Felipe who was on my team won MVP. Josh got a moment in the spotlight when his team was given an enormous trophy for first place, and then the dancing began again.

Josh's team receives their absurdly large trophy

Dave wins the Superman award for best lay outs and a book of Superman comics...in Spanish of course.

Emory's pose pretty well represents the craziness of it all

Somewhere in the middle of the night Josh and our friend Juliana taught everyone Solda' Boy (who can rest easy knowing his amazing dance moves made it south of the equator) and then I spent the rest of the night salsa dancing with different partners. I received a very nice compliment the next day saying that I am a very good salsa dancer and that is surprising because most girls from the States are...well...terrible and can't move there hips for you know what. Now I have nothing on the girls who grew up in South America. Their effortless hip rocking and twirling might take a while to imitate, but so far I have made great strides. Now if only Josh would learn. One of my favorite partners is my friend Sebastian who speaks no English (he's not one of those who pretends to speak no English, he literally speaks no English) and when we are dancing he tried to speak to me in Spanish, he asks if I understand, I usually say quizas, or maybe, and then giggle as he shrugs and twirls me. Even he, a practically emaciated, shy film student is one of the best dancers I've ever danced with.
At four in the morning we were dragged to the bus and driven back to our apartments. Instead of returning we headed for beach.

Well not before Nick escaped to a chair and fell asleep with peanut butter in hand (sadly it was removed by Andrew for more consumption right before the picture was taken.

Supposedly this is one of the few places in the world where you can see the sun rise and set on the same beach. This was something we just had to see. So we braved the wind with a guitar and huddled in the sand.

Josh and Sebastion (one of my salsa buddies) on the beach

Nick falls back asleep in my lap only to be awoken by me telling him the Policia have arrived...he then starts giggling thinking I'm kidding.

We were still going strong in our quest to pay homage to the rise of the sun when the policia showed up in full uniform (bullet proof vest and truncheons in hand) demanding to know why we were huddled on the beach and for documents. Ummm, obviously we did not have any on us at 5 am on the beach, but luckily someone had a driver's license to show us. They told us to get off the beach and then ran back to their cars. Then a truck pulled out of nowhere, stopped a few feet from us, and then reversed back from whence they came. It was straight out of Super Troopers, and ridiculous. I thought Meghan would have gotten a total kick out of it!
Everything had got a bit weird and it was cloudy anyway so we headed home and fell soundly asleep sometime around six.
Me being a little crazy and all I decided to set the alarm for 10:30 so I could go back to the beach for a little. No one seemed to be awake so I poked my head out of the window and looked at my beach view until Felipe came out onto his balcony. I joined him and for a breakfast of milk, bananas and sugar (basically a bowl of cereal without the cereal) which his mother always makes for him in Colombia. We were joined by Danny and Juan who then made eggs, sausage and bread. We were then joined by Diego who went out and bought facturas, or pastries and we then enjoyed some of this as well!! So by the time everyone else was waking up we went for a much deserved last walk along the beach just as Buffy the Vampire Slayer was coming on (dubbed in Spanish, of course). I spoke and listened to Spanish all morning and got to know some of my teammates a little better. It was great but exhausting. When we got back everyone else was eating, so I had second, or third breakfast (I guess you could just call it lunch) where I tried some of Dave's vegemite. I think I'm one of the few people who liked it, but then I've never met a condiment I didn't like. Josh had brought over our peanut butter, and I gave my friend Sabina her first PB&J sandwich (I had giver her a few spoonfuls of just peanut butter the day before and she totally went nuts about it. I think this sandwich changed her life, she's a total convert). There went our second jar of peanut butter, but it was totally worth it to spread the love.
Now this time I was not going to be fooled, and when two pm, or our departure time, rolled up I was not even packed yet. People were throwing discs on the lawn, in the pool or on the beach. The drivers didn't even show up for another hour or so.

The signing of homemade tournament t-shirts

Yes, the time is 2pm and everyone is still chillin'

I returned to the beach for a little where I was sunburned for the first time all weekend!!! Minus my lips getting burned I was one of two people who did not get burned until that morning when my shoulders got quite red. Oh well, I made it out much better than most.
The bus ride back was much calmer than on the way there and I slept for much of it. However this time I was able to enjoy the beautiful countryside in the waning daylight. Supposedly it looks like the Midwest of the United States, but not having had my great American road trip yet I'll have to take my friend Kyla's word for it. There were farms as far as the eye could see, and hundreds of cows. It was beautiful.

One gas station stop, a toll to get back on the bus consisting of a sip of Fernet (yuck) and nine hours of beautiful countryside later (oh and quite a few naps) we were back in our beloved Buenos Aires at 1:30. Our friend Dave was heading out to Uruguay the next day but needed a place to stay so we brought him back to our casa where we had nothing to each but peanut butter (thanks again Shelley), jelly and the end of a loaf of bread. After Dave had figured out how he was getting to Punta del Este we slept soundly until 10:30 when Josh let him out and we said our goodbyes. I hope to see him again soon and I wish he were staying longer. To bad he only had three months before he has to be back at law school and a very full traveling schedule...
Today we woke up at 1:30 and I honestly wondered if it would be possible for me to get out of bed. My body hadn't felt this way since high school! But hunger pangs forced me into the shower and we went out into a muggy San Telmo in search of nourishment. We made tasty summer pasta for lunch, nectarines for dessert and since then I have done nothing but lie here on this couch, blog and do the dishes. For once I am VERY happy to be unemployed. Josh went out and bought some tasty appertivos and a nice bottle of wine (that meaning a 16 peso bottle of wine) to celebrate his payment for doing a bit of translating. Yes that's right, Josh is getting paid!!! Almost 500 US dollars!!!!! I know; tears of happiness are rolling down my cheeks as well. He's making me look bad.
On that front I had a second interview but my throat was a bit hoarse from partying the night before (stupid me!!) and even though I thought it went ok she wants to see me again when I'm in full voice. It was kind of a crazy experience though because she spoke very little English and I ended up singing all these Disney songs.
I hope you are all well at home and the cold isn't getting to you, I'm sure this post didn't help. Miss everyone!!!

Beach Frisbee, Peanut Butter, and Soulja Boy: A Love Story

As my charred red skin turns to brown nearly 48 hours after last exposing my bare body to the South American sun, my thoughts of Monte Hermoso remain rosier than ever. Along with all of my Frisbee friends, I had been looking forward to this weekend for ages, and why not? For a reasonable price, we were to spend a long weekend on the beach playing Frisbee, swimming, and enjoying a delicious asado with more than 30 people all looking to have a great time. Throw in a the prospect of a German Beer Festival taking place in Monte Hermoso this same weekend and it's not wonder everyone was overflowing with giddyness as we boarded the double decker bus we rented for the near 9-hour bus ride.
Not unlike Chinatown bus rides between DC and New York, we were well equipped with libations, diversions, and enough sustenance to get us through a long voyage. But very much unlike those trips on I-95 and Jersey Turnpike was the bus itself, which featured spacious seating and leg rests that folded down from the seat in front of you, creating a make-shift bed that proved to be reasonably comfortable for sleeping once the music died down and our party slowly sputtered to a stop. And from what I've been told, this type of bus is at the bottom of the bus totem pole, which makes the prospect of 20+ hour bus rides in my future less ominous.
In reference to the aforementioned sustenance, Julia and I brought along some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, as well as a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter since we were not sure if we would have a refrigerator for jelly but still wanted to avoid paying for some meals when possible (little did we know that our apartments would come with fully equipped kitchens, so our jar of jelly would have been safe and sound and perfect for eating). In the end, this plan failed miserably, but for all the better since it resulted in the consumption of peanut butter by just about all, and in many cases the introduction to it. For the North Americans who had suffered without peanut butter while they've been abroad, it was a joyful reunion and preview of what is waiting for them when they return home in the next few weeks (tear drops). But for many South Americans, it was their first taste of this delectable spread - some were very surprised that it was salty, not sweet, yet all enjoyed it's savory goodness, especially when combined with jelly. With so much intake of Argentinian and South American culture, it felt good to provide those who have offered us so much something of our own, however small it may be. And as the title of this post may suggest, we shared a bit more of our culture over the weekend...but that will come later.
We arrived in Monte Hermoso on Saturday morning at around 8:30 to find a cute beach community still asleep. We got settled into our apartment, which was in a complex of five apartments all occupied by our Frisbee cohorts and just a few hundred yards from the water. We shared ours with the Nicks from GW (Stulck and Hadsel-Mares) and our new friend Andrew, who is also an intelligent and rabid Michigan football fan from Chicago. Julia and I got to share the large bed in the room by itself (or, as Diego sheepishly put it, we had to "sacrifice" sleeping seperately in small beds and had to sleep together in a giant bed for the good of the team...I thanked him for making it sound so noble), while the three guys being transported back to summer camp, bunk bed and all, and sleeping in one room. We quickly found the market in town and cooked some breakfast before heading down to the beach to start warming up for our games. The powers that be arranged the teams as fairly as they could on the bus ride, and I was fortunate enough to be placed on a truly international team of great players and even better personalities: the Nicks from GW, with Nick S. as an incredibly knowledgable and skilled player who plays Ultimate at GW and has taught me a lot about the game and Nick H.M. as a versatile and highly capable, fleet footed big body who was our vocal leader (not to mention the person who introduced us to Ultimate in the first place, so he deserves a huge round of applause for that); an Argentinian guy named Dani who I had never met before but knew was an excellent player and who turned out to be an even better teammate and leader (not to mention the father of quite possibly the cutest child I've ever laid eyes on, but I digress); Betty, a German medical student working at a hospital in Buenos Aires who is an extraordinary player and whose favorite word (or maybe the word I most like to hear her say) is "sweet", which she usually utters after seeing or making a "sweet" throw; Jessica, a cheerful student from England in her last year of studies who was definitely one of our most consistent players and a joy to be around; Dana, whose quiet demeanor hid a vibrant character and genuine enthusiasm for Ultimate who would flash a brilliant smile after scoring a point; and last but certainly not least, Andrés, a Colombian art student studying in Buenos Aires who Nick H.M. and I liken to a dog, in that he is so care free and always brings positive energy anywhere he goes - I hereby dub him the ambassador of "buena onda", or good times - and who made a living in the end zone.
Nick H.M. came up with the name Superhands for our team, a prophetic moniker since we were "super" in winning our first two games. It had been some time since I ran around in the sand and it was so much tougher than I remember so after two games my body was quite sore and ready for some relaxation before venturing out into the town for the beer festival. We had no idea what to expect, and quite honestly, were somewhat disappointed at first. Even though the organizers (who were incredible - as Nick S. put it, there were never any moments when we had to think about what we were doing, it was all set up for us) had reserved a table for 50, we were still confronted by long lines and general mayhem in trying to get food and drink. Nick H.M. and Julia bowed out before even getting anything to eat, but many of us stuck it out and waited through the painful reality of Argentinian lines. However, as is often true, your company is more important than your location, so once we all got some food and drink in our stomachs, we could concentrate on dancing and general merriment, and did we ever. We must have danced like crazy people for nearly two hours, first to the singers on stage, and later to the dance music blaring over the loud speakers. We eventually made it to the stage itself, and continued jumping and dancing around with our fellow players and the local patrons of the festival. We encountered two adorable little girls (Ana and Milagros), who were holding their noise makers up as microphones and singing along to the music while dancing, and Juliana, Austin and I joined them. A few songs later, Juliana and I thought it would be fun to teach the dance for Soulja Boy's "Crank Dat (Soulja Boy)" (which I will from now on refer to as simple "Soulja Boy"), which they actually picked up on pretty quickly, but not as quickly as the little boy who wanted to learn after the girls left. He "supermanned" with such gusto.
All told, we had a pretty good time at the festival, and I stayed up far later than I should have given the fact we were supposed to start playing Frisbee at 9:00am the next day. Luckily, we are in Argentina, so nothing starts on time so we probably didn't start playing until 10:45, only after conducting a traditional opening ceremony a day late (see what I'm talking about?) in which everyone sang their country's national anthem. The contingencies (in a few cases of 1) from Argentina, Colombia, USA, Canada, England, Germany, Australia, and Japan all stood in front of the group and proudly (or comically, in the case of Randall the Canadian) sang their country's anthem. Most notable was Katsu, our Japanese friend who gave a subdued yet stirring rendition of the Japanese national anthem, which everyone watched in silence and erupted in applause after he finished.
After these festivities we were in the first game. It was a hotly contested match, and I'm proud to say I caught the winning point on an epic over the shoulder layout in the endzone which I'm still paying for with whip-lash like symptoms, but hey, you leave it all on the field (or in this case, sand). We finished Sunday 2-1, with a 4-1 overall record and a spot in the championship, but for much of the day the heat was the big story. Everyone was getting sunburnt, and shade was at a premium. Moreover, the sand was unbearably hot at times, causing many people to turn to socks or some footwear to combat the burning beach. We did have a hose at our disposal, but often times the sand dried so quickly that the water was rendered useless. Standing in one spot for too long or having to retrieve the frisbee outside the field were both inevitable and extremely painful, which made some of the games almost unbearable. But we pushed through, altered our watering techniques, and waited until the sun started to set so the sand cooled off. By the time the championship came around, the sand was much more friendly to the feet and helped propell us to victory (although Nick H.M. nearly mangled a little girl who was walking through the endzone, she and her family seemingly unaware of the game going on despite the fact we'd been playing for two days straight. This incident is worth noting since our friend Emiliano, one of the most polite and genuinely nice people we've met, somehow found himself confronted by the girl's angry father/grandfather, pole in hand, even though he had respectfully explained the situation to the girl's mother/grandmother). We were all pretty excited after winning, but the greater victory was in the weekend and the spirit everyone brought to the games. Another ritual practice was the "redondo", or circle, that followed every game. It provided the opportunity for the two teams to get together in embrace and have a representative from each squad to share some words about the match on behalf of their team, after which the teams would often participate in some group dance or game, my favorite being a variation of Rock-Paper-Scissors called "Superfan", in which everybody starts by playing a single match of Rock-Paper-Scissors, but the loser must follow around the winner as they continue to play and be their biggest fan. If your horse loses, you both must join in rooting for the winner. As you win, your fan base grows, until it's down to two contestants with everyone else cheering for one or the other. Either way, the redondos, the games, and the previously mentioned recognition of each country in attendance contributed to the already palpable sense of respect and positive spirit in the air. There was little to no bickering during the games, and tons of high fives between teammates and opponents alike. At random points a round of cheers would erupt for one team, followed by just a passionate cheer for the other side. A good play elicited cheers from all sections, including the opposition. Everyone gave their all, and everyone recognized and appreciated the effort. And in this last redondo, everyone on the two teams in the finals provided some parting words to sum up their time at the tournament. There were multiple mentions of good spirit, great energy, strong effort and unforgettable experiences. But for me, as I told the group, it was simply extraordinary: two months before I had never played organized Frisbee, and now I was on the beach, playing this amazing game with such amazing people, and for that I was very lucky.

With all these lovey-dovey feelings we returned back to our apartments to get ready for the big event of the weekend: the asado. We were all feeling great after a long day of Frisbee and ready to spend the night eating delicious meat, drinking, and dancing the night away, and we were not disappointed. Our dinner included as much beer, wine, soda, and water that we could drink, so naturally after drinking my fair share of Quilmes, I convinced our new friend Daniel (Argentinian mother, Spanish father, raised in England - I told you this was an international community) to join me in some calimocho, which is a Spanish drink composed of cheap red wine and cola - usually Coke, but we only had Pepsi so we made due - that tastes like an incredibly crude sangria...or cherry coke...it's not for everyone, but when we would botellón (drink in the streets) of Madrid, we frequently did so with calimocho. Once dinner was over, the DJ started playing all types of dance music, and the moving and shaking began. Julianna and I, inspired by our lessons the previous night, decided to teach everyone the "Soulja Boy" dance. Annie had her iPod with the song on it, so we figured we would hook it up to the speakers and give everyone a lesson in popular North American dance. Again, at all the parties we'd been to the South Americans insisted on learning to dance, so we figured we'd return the favor, however absurd this example of our culture may be. Julianna and I moved to the outdoor deck to get on the same page and provide the united front of dance for the masses, and in the process I put my foot through the deck (it wasn't strong enough for my cranking). I felt pretty bad, but as Maxi, the tournament's lead organizer said, it wasn't as bad as the person who broke the glass casing in the main room. With this positive reinforcement, and undeterred by the cut on my right ankle, Julianna and I got a large group of tournament participants from all over the world to Crank That (Soulja Boy). It was a huge hit, and we got a big round of applause, after which we continued on dancing into the night.

By the time we got home, many were ready to go to sleep. In fact, Nick S. passed out in the living room of the apartment with his bandanna over his eyes, a closed jar of peanut butter in one hand, and a spoon in the other - and this is after both Nick and I passed out on the five minute busride back to the apartments. I was also ready to hit the sack, but was convinced by the Ambassador of Buena Onda, aka Andrés, and his friends (the Sebastians, because, that's right, they're both named Sebastian) to go down to the beach because we weren't going to be near it again for a long time so we needed to go watch the sunrise (because on this beach, you could see both the sunrise and the sunset). I was in no mood to argue with this logic, so a group of us all went down to the beach to see the beautiful sight. Unfortunately, we didn't make it that long after some police officers came and asked us for our identification (which all but one did not have) and advised us to get off the beach since there had been reports of crime in the town (it's worth noting that Sleepy Nick had fallen asleep on Julia's lap some time before and only woke up after she poked him a few minutes into the police incident, so he had no idea what was going on until it was almost over...clearly, the boy was tired). It wasn't too hard to persuade us to get off the beach, seeing as it was both cold and windy, and most of us were running on very little sleep from the night before, so we all made our way back to the apartments and eventually collapsed into bed.

Monday was pretty uneventful. Of course, we didn't leave until 3:45 even though we were scheduled to leave around 2, so we didn't get into Buenos Aires until around 2:00. The bus ride was painless, and we slept most of the trip. Our friend Dave, the sole member of the Australian contingent who is traveling across South America and just happened to be in Buenos Aires for the weekend of the tournament and decided to come along, crashed on our couch since he didn't have anywhere to stay. It was fitting that we got to continue the positive spirit of the weekend by hosting a near stranger in our home, all because we had one thing in common: we play Frisbee.

Sorry for the lack of pictures, but for those of you on the Facebook, more than enough pictures will be posted over the next week, so you can check them out there. Otherwise, I'll try and rip some off the web and post them as they become available. Until then, Julia's pictures and those created by my words will have do be enough. Or, as I always say, you could just come down here and see for yourself.

Mid-Week Update

So there really has not been much to blog about these days. We have been doing...well not much. Today, like most days, we slept in till we were awoken by the banging of construction around 11:30. We checked our emails, I sent my resume out to dozens of random institutes, and we had breakfast. We got dressed and went to a museum that is currently under construction, so instead went for a nice walk and saw some parts of San Telmo we had not seen before. It really is the most beautiful neighborhood I've ever had the fortune to live in and I wish I had more money to spend so I could spend more time in its endless restaurants and bars.
After wandering the cobblestone streets we ended up back at our apartment for our "midday" meal which is usually only three to four hours after breakfast. I skyped with my mom for a bit, and then we went to the roof accompanied by some maté where we read for about an hour.
I came downstairs to a wonderful surprise! Shelley was right!! The Performers' director Martin had written me an email asking me to come in for a tryout with their vocal couch. Either someone dropped out, they are desperate, or I really wasn't that bad at my tryout!! Shelley had pointed out that when they said last Friday they probably meant next month, so by Argentine standards they got back to me relatively quickly I guess. So the tryout is on Friday!!
In other good news, Josh found out he will be paid for a large amount of translating he did! Things are looking up. Now to continue vacation in BA while it lasts, I join my partner for a game of cards, and then its off to our friend Tucker's for a dinner of chili. This weekend we have the beach tournament, so expect mucho blogging after the weekend and some crazy pictures. Miss you all!!

Visitors Arrive

As all of you loyal readers know, my mother, younger brother, and sister arrived in Buenos Aires two Thursdays ago. For me, the anticipation was both nerve wrecking and exciting, more so the latter, of course. Yet, hosting family members in a foreign city is quite the task. If they had come here on their own without any connections, their stay would depend on their own volition to explore the city and expand their horizons, or maybe the weather. But the fact that I was here as their host and resident tour guide added some pressure in that I felt partially responsible for the success of their trip. And even more, whereas I had nearly three months in Madrid to prepare for their arrival, I had just about half that time to do that same in Buenos Aires. Still, I was more excited than anything else, especially since it was around Thanksgiving. I requested my mom bring some Thanksgiving provisions (along with peanut butter and hot sauce) for a planned Turkey Day feast with our friends from the States, so there was little doubt that we would in fact be having Thanksgiving in Buenos Aires.
But Thanksgiving was to be just the proverbial icing on the cake of their incredible week here, and sure enough it unfolded perfectly. I need not recount all the details, seeing as Julia has already done so (which is why this post as not as long as it should be), but it goes without saying that they had a spectacular time. From their first meal at Des Nivel on that initial Thursday night to a week later when close to 20 people happily crammed into our apartment for a Thanksgiving feast, Mom, Hannah, and Jacob got a great taste of the city. We explored the rich Jewish histort of Buenos Aires (including a riveting service in Belgrano), our fair San Telmo, and the Recoleta fair, even though it was oppressively hot (which led us to take advantage of their pool one afternoon after walking around La Boca). They witnessed a Cadillac victory, superior Tango in an equally grand venue, and mulitple near car crashes that are so familiar to those of us who live in this fine city. Hannah and Jacob each got to spend a night alone with us, the former involving plenty of backgammon, the latter ending as the sun rose. My family met our friends here who have made these first two months so much fun, and those friends got to spend a memorable Thanksgiving with my family and me. And appropirately enough, I'm incredibly thankful for them both.