Lovely little Tuesday

Just arrived home from a lovely little excursion to Palermo Hollywood. I went to meet the girls for coffee and Spanish conversation, and while waiting for Erin to arrive I met the supposed Hulk Hogan of Argentina. He was grabbing a bite to eat on a break from filming something and he was excited to hear that I am an English teacher. In my foundling Spanish we exchanged numbers and supposedly I will be giving him private lessons starting next week. He's really buff so we'll be meeting in a cafe just in case because honestly I don't think Josh could take him. Then during lunch I received a phone call from an institute and I have an interview tomorrow at 10:30 for a class in the afternoons. I'm so excited!! My unemployed status may soon be changed!! After we walked around and drooled over all the amazing little boutiques as I shoved my wallet further and further out of reach into my bag. None of that until there is money flowing in and not just out!
Anyway, time for Josh and I to run a few errands. We have to pick up the laundry, pay a visit to the Pasta Guy, and get some new toilet paper. You know, the boring stuff. Then Frisbee!! Love to all at home!!

The Exciting Happenings of the Unemployed

Last Thursday Josh and I wandered away from our apartment in search of adventure, new barrios, and Kosher Micky D's. We found all that and more. The walk to the Jewish neighborhood that goes by the name Abasto took us on a tour of the Argentine version of Broadway. Avenida Corrientes is home to most of the shows in Buenos Aires including Hair Spray, and many other shows that boast scantily clad ladies, tango, and other craziness. Once we reached the mall in Abasto we were pretty tired, but the cool air conditioned halls of the mall were soothing and our search for Kosher delights continued. After passing the regular McDonalds and wandering from one floor to the next, we found the Kosher McDonalds next to the Burger King.We ordered the McNifica, but of course they put mayonnaise on it because they put it on everything here, so I munched on some Kosher fries while Josh waited for a fresh McNifica sin mayonnaise.
As I waited I pondered how amazing the uniforms are in this city. The McDonalds employees all wear this amazing outfit, and if I didn't think it would be rude I would totally ask them to pose with me. They have these amazing McDonalds jeans with M's on the butt pockets. To match, a jean puff sleeve blouse that is kept tucked in with this fantastic little McDonalds belt complete with the golden arches symbol on the buckle. To top the whole outfit off they have jean hats. Its not just these lucky employees that are so well outfitted. I noticed at the bank that the tellers got to wear these adorable red cable knit sleeveless sweaters that opened in the front. Totally cute and amazing. But I digress.
Here we can see Josh and our amazing Kosher meal including our Fancy Ketchup packets. It was everything I thought it would be...crappy and McDonalds but just without the cheese. The fries were pretty good though, and thus revived we took the bus home again.

Saturday was an exciting day for Frisbee seeing as the Cadillacs won again!!!! Not to mention the fact that I scored a point!!!!!! After Frisbee we headed home for some showers and dinner, and then over to our friend Fillipe's place. That night was Noche de los Museos when 100 museums are open till 3 am. After some beer and emanadas we went to the MALBA musuem where we had just been on Monday, and it was really the same exact thing even though it was 2 am. Apparently at some museums there was techno music or something, but not at ours.
Here we are as we wait to enter the museum. The lights behind us indicate how much noise is being made, so everyone was whistling. This will explain the look on Josh's face.
Here we are on the bottom floor of the museum where there is an exhibit called Mercado with real cabbage, oranges, and dirty dishes from a meal next to a video of people preparing the meal. Very modern...very deep. As you can see it got very cold after it rained on Friday so everyone dug out their hoodies making for excellent gangsta poses.
Yesterday we went to our first Asado for our team captain Diego's birthday, but I promised Josh he could blog about it.
Today I had an interview with the Performers. It took me over an hour to get there and an hour to get back and the interview lasted five minutes, and now I have to prepare a monologue and a song. Song I can do, but I've never prepared a monologue, so after this delicious nap I'm about to take the search for a good monologue begins. If anyone has got a good one lying around send it my way!!! Tonight we head back to La Bomba for some excellence in drumming but I'll be around the house by 11 pm my time if anyone wants to Skype!!!

Girls Day Success!!

"I'm not in Jersey anymore," was my first thought as I took my first steps into the wonder that is Alto Palermo or the nicest mall in Buenos Aires. The structure itself is unlike any mall I've ever been to. Instead of a long rectangular shape with two large anchors on either side (like a Macy's, Bloomies, etc.), it was a swirling construction filled with stores, cafe's and kiosks that seemed to go on forever. We walked around for hours and I think I saw half of it. Many of the stores are brands that we have back at home, but the lines are completely different. I went into the Levi's store and wanted EVERYTHING!!! But I of course got nothing because it was somewhat expensive, but so much cooler than Levi's in North America. I ended up getting a cute long vest thingy from a store called Kill and then a really pretty white hippyesque dress from Zara. A slight problem is that I'm built differently than the average porteño female, so often times I would get really excited about something, and then it would be too short, to wide, etc. It was a great time though, and I have really begun to embrace the afternoon cafe tradition and surprisingly I can sleep at night after a large coffee at 5 pm! For all of you who know about my problems with caffeine don't be too shocked, it’s not like I'm going to bed before 2 am anyway (partially because after dinner at Nick's we waited for the bus for an eternity) but I'm making big strides, big strides.
After leaving the mall I helped Erin move from one hostel to another that was a bit cleaner and more her style, and then took a lovely walk over to Nick's house for meat loaf, or pan de carne as they call it here (bread of meat) and cards. Today our bathroom was finally fixed!!! And now we have the rest of the day until Frisbee to do what we want.
Also, on the job front:
I have been talking to a man named Martin who works for a theatre company that performs educational plays in English. There are three plays a year and they take the plays on tour around Argentina and the continent. It’s a full time job and a one year commitment, but I think it sounds like an amazing opportunity. It also pays a steady salary...I should be meeting with him next week so I'll keep you all posted!! Literally...hahaha

Picture Post

North American Brunch:
Mimosas with fresh squeezed OJ

The ladies from the left:
Camilla, Erin, and Jen

Cramped boat ride to our island in Tigre:
Mike and Camilla

Boys from Massachusetts:
Andy and Josh

Jen, Camilla, and Josh relaxing on the grass (post nap for Josh)

Brunch, Bond, and Boats...oh my!

Sorry about the lack of posting! I've been so busy doing things, or so tired from them that I keep putting it off!! This week at least I also have the excuse of a little bout of poison ivy.
Saturday was another beautiful day for Frisbee, and my team won for the first time!! More importantly, the jerseys that the Cadillacs had ordered had arrived. Sadly they had been ordered just prior to Josh's and my arrival on the team, so we donned our black shirts we had brought instead and looked longingly at the black dry fit jersey's decorated with a Cadillac symbol in the background and two people jumping up for the Frisbee in the foreground. I'll get a picture of that for you all to see soon enough. To our pleasant surprise, Phillipe got everyone in a circle and presented us with two extra jerseys. It was our official welcome to the team! I was so happy! Outfitted in our Cadillacs finest we walked to the field and played a great game. I even caught the Frisbee and passed it to someone, who passed to someone else, and well, eventually there was a score made from my pass. Amazing!!!
Sunday we had the much planned for and anticipated EBC brunch at our apartment. We must have gone through 6 kilos of oranges, but everyone was happily full of fresh squeezed mimosas in the end. I made 30 eggs, and with a dozen more Erin made French toast. I also had the honor of serving a porteño her first American brunch. She could not get over that I had put avocado in the eggs. I can't say she was offended, but could not stop marveling over it. She also taught me the proper way to make maté. Still tastes the same anyway you do it...but why not try and do it right? After brunch the boys went to a US bar called El Alamo to watch North American football and consume unthinkable amounts of beer. As for us ladies, we strolled through the San Telmo market listening to various performances. After spotting one of our students from EBC and convincing Erin to tango with him, we made our way down to Puerto Madero for a walk along the water and a couple of bottles of wine on a lovely outdoor patio that received a cool breeze and overlooked the river. We also tried Ostrich bacon which was actually really delish. Upon arriving home I discovered Josh passed out in our bed and I soon joined him.
The most exciting parts of Monday were our first trip to the MALBA (Museo de Arte Latioamericano de Buenos Aires) and our first viewing of the new Bond movie Quantum of Solace. Both were really great, but only one worth going to see again. I hear the Bond movie comes out in the US on Friday, so I won't spoil it for you, but the MALBA was filled with amazing modern Latin American art. I loved it, and will remember to bring my ISIC card with me next time so I can get in for free.
Tuesday was for Tigre!!! Tigre is this wonderful place only 20 miles from the city. By train (round trip for a whopping 2.20 pesos) it takes about 50 min. Upon arrival we wondered around for a bit until a more focused venture took us to a boat where we paid 18 pesos for a round ticket to one of the many islands that make up Tigre. The whole place is only navigable by boat, and the boats are the only noises that break the peaceful silence one always forgets they had been missing when living in the big city. We got off at the little place with a restaurant and essentially spent the rest of the day eating, drinking a wonderful new drink brought to us by our British friend Camilla. To make a Shandy you pour some 7up or Sprite on top of your beer to make it oh so wonderful and refreshing, and laying in the grass (with me trying not to get more poison ivy). It was so relaxing!! On the weekends Tigre boasts a great market so next time I go back I will go then and with a picnic and a Frisbee in hand, but it was wonderful to get out of the city with almost all of the friends I have here.
Today is "girls’ day out" so I must go and get ready for that. Camilla, Jen, Erin and I are meeting up soon and dinning on vegetarian food (for Camilla's sake but it is also nice for me after the ridiculous amount of meat we eat here) and then a day of shopping and whatever other girly things we can think of. I'll let you know how it goes!!!

Weekend Update

Thought I would give an update on the happenings down here while I wait for Josh to wake up and for my Grey's Anatomy to load. This week marks several exciting occasions. Tuesday was our one month Anniversary with Buenos Aires. I think so far we make a good couple. I also finished my class this week and was one of three out of twelve people to graduate with distinction! That is the highest honor you can graduate with from EBC, so I feel much better about never receiving an honor on my diploma from GWU. On Thursday after Frisbee, the team switched up the Thursday night pizza ritual and instead we made Taco Fish as Emilio called it. Fish tacos turned out to be the best idea ever and as I sat on the floor consuming my third I was so happy to be surrounded by this random group of people that I have come to be so fond of. The crowd was mostly American students studying abroad, but we ate at Emilio's apartment and two of the Colombians were there too. These people are the nicest and most genuine group I have met in so long! When the night suddenly turned into a dance party (of course we were not happy with the two hours of exercise we had just gotten, we had to dance now) I took a sit down break to have some water. Annie, one of the Americans, motioned to me and forced me to not exclude myself. Next thing I know there are shots of vile Tequila being handed out, and after realizing it was 2 am I left with another girl who lives in San Telmo to go home and get some much needed sleep.
Last night the party continued but this time with EBC friends. After Josh and I had a quiet and delicious dinner at home, we met up with friends at Ted and Andy's place. After the beer ran out around 1:30 we decided it was time to go to a bar. Turns out the place was extortionate (my new favorite British word) at 15 pesos for chopp or draft beer. Yes I know this is only US$5, but here it is extortionate. So we hopped in three cabs to rush over to a club called Crobar (hehe, we loved the name, very clever porteños) to make it in by 3am. Zoe, one of the British girls from my class whose boyfriend is Argentine, and her boyfriend were able to get all of us in for free and after a quick Cubra Libre to wake myself up we danced the night way until five am to techno beat with overtones of a sexy female voice saying really silly things in English. I wish I could remember what the lyrics were. I could have danced well into the morning, but Josh (ever so sensible) pointed out that all of our friends were leaving and that we needed to go to bed. After a short cab ride later we did just that.
So far I've had a lovely morning waiting for Josh to wake up. I ran downstairs to grab some pastries for breakfast (I guess we are well into lunchtime right now), and on my way to get more coffee I walked by the restaurant caddy corner to our place. Recognizing one of the waiters I say Hola, qué tal, and we proceeded to have this lovely little exchange in Spanish. I felt so at home and like I was becoming a part of the neighborhood! Anyway, looks like a nice day for Frisbee if Josh would ever wake up. Love and miss you all!!

Where Was I When Obama Was Elected President? The Sequel

On the suggestion of some frisbee friends - actually, it was our porteño friend Emilio, who stayed awake until at least 4am before having to wake up at 7am for classes - we made the long trek out to Palermo to see history unfold. We stepped out of our taxi at around 11:35pm (we are now 3 hours ahead of EST, as Julia's parents are well aware) and an older American couple greeted us with the good news that Obama had just won Pennsylvania and New Hampshire. And honestly, for me, that was the brightest moment for the next two hours or so. The bar was so incredibly hot that I couldn't stand to stay inside for more than fifteen minutes at a time. We had finished frisbee practice not too long before and it was as if I had never left I was sweating so much. Some of the time I stood right by the entrance so I could still see the projection screen. At one point an American approached me and asked, "¿Quién es el president?". I told him I did not know, that Florida and Virginia and other key states were still up in the air. At this point he felt it necessary to whip out his driver's liscense and show me he was in fact from Florida. I congratulated him for his state of origin, and he moseyed on into the bar with a lady in hand. Before long I mustered up the courage to dive back into the mess of spectators, eager to reunite with Julia and our other friends. We eventually moved towards the back screen, where we witnessed Virginia go to Obama. (Quick note: in these elections, doesn't it seem far to ominious when they project a state? "Just in, Virginia has gone to Obama" sounds as if they've converted to Obamaism, like an Eastern European country that fell to Communism during the 1960's. Why can't we just keep it to something less foreboding? Probably for the same reason that CNN felt the need to keep up those silly holograms throughout their entire coverage: ratings. Yes, the horse race of American presidential politics is so compelling! Back to the drama...).
At this point I had gotten over my perspiration and decided to stick it out in the middle of the cheering hoards. We awaited the polls to close on the west coast, hoping that these states would push Obama over the edge. The countdown appeared on the screen at thirty seconds, and just as the other countdowns for polls to close, it turned into New Year's Eve in November. Hands raised, fists pumping towards the ceiling as the numbers counted down. And once the clock hit zero, something changed. The crowd's once high noise level had retreated to an anxious hum. Time slowed down for a few moments as the screen showed a breaking news alert, not a mere projection, and we all knew what was to come: BARACK OBAMA HAS JUST BEEN ELECTED TO BE THE NEXT PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA! Within milliseconds, the crowd erupted. People were jumping up and down, hugging friends and strangers within reach, some crying out of pure happiness. I did my fair share of jumping and hugging but mostly found myself staring at the screen in disbelief. I join the hundreds of thousands who describe the experience as very surreal, because it was. I tried to describe to Emilio why everyone (by that point it felt like everyone, for if there were any McCain supporters in the bar, I'm sure they had vacated the premises once it became obvious he would lose in an historic rout - not to mention the fact that they were painfully outnumbered) was so happy: because we weren't sure we would ever see this come to be, because we had been conditioned to expect the worst out of our leaders thanks to the past 8 years, because we finally saw the opportunity to bring about the change we saw necessary, because we would no longer have to walk the streets of a foreign country and feel self-conscious because our President displayed a complete disregard for other peoples, because we felt a renewed faith in our fellow citizens, because we saw the torch pass from one political generation to another, because we finally had a president who would inspire hope and faith in country for all. He understood our emotion, even giving me pats on the back when I started to get misty eyed during his acceptance speech. I only hope that we as a nation take up this collective charge to make change and do not waste the election of a truly great President, and more importantly, that this initial step towards more complete freedom and equality leads to more and far reaching measures that make a minority presidential candidate normal, or failures such as the gay marriage ban in California unthinkable. Today, I'm more proud to be an American than I was yesterday. And for all of the endorsements of Buenos Aires I've made, I would have done anything to be back in DC for election night and been able to take part in the celebration that took place. Those of you who were there, I envy you.

Where was I when Obama was elected President?

What better distraction than writing a blog post while I wait for the ringing in my ears to die down to the point where I can sleep. The cause of this ringing is not a concert, or even music but the sounds of Americans screaming because the world has been set right again. Being out of the country doesn't mean you have to sit at home and watch the election on CNN.com. There are tons of ex-pat bars that play CNN, and we went to Sacramento after an intense Frisbee practice. There we met up with Frisbee friends including one porteño, or our friend Emilio, to watch what we knew had to be Obama's election. Every time a new state was won the crowd cheered and every time McCain won a measly few votes everybody booed. Everyone sipped on cold Quilmes (the only beer to drink when in Argentina) to stay cool in the sweltering heat inside the bar and my exhausted legs somehow led me to find a few seats to sit on during the waiting period. And then it happened. The same screen I'm sure you all saw was projected announcing that Obama had won and the bar literally exploded with people's screams of happiness. I couldn't believe it, but I even cried. Only one tear, but still. It was really powerful. All of these people who, like me, have chosen to live outside of their country, screaming USA and Obama and "Yes we can!" in Spanish.
At that point I decided I had to go home before I dropped to the floor with exhaustion and took the opportunity to grab a taxi home with Emory, a girl from Frisbee, who also lives in San Telmo. They spoke in Spanish the whole way home, but I understood a surprising amount. The whole conversation began, of course, with the cabbie comparing Bush to Hitler. This is not the first time I've heard this comparison, and it makes more sense once you realize that most Argentineans believe that Bush had a hand in 9/11 along with their history of corrupt governments that and a history of killing its own people. Even if this were proven true I still have to disagree with the comparison, but it was wonderful to think how America's reputation has changed in one instant and how many people's faith (including my own) has been restored in the so called democratic system that elects our president and for politics in general. To boot the Senate already holds a majority proving that Joe the plumber (can anyway explain this analogy to me? Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't plumbers make a pretty good living? Also this leaves out Jane the plumber which is offensive) does have a voice and he/she shouts "Yes we can." I'm betting Joe the plumber would say it in English, but a huge majority of Latino voters also voted for Barak (eliciting more loud screams from the crowd). Anyway, I'm so happy I could cry, oh wait I already did. Sorry Mom and Dad for calling 12 am your time. In my excitement I forgot what time it was when I got home!!! Time for me to join the ranks of those who slumber for my measly 5 hours of sleep before class tomorrow! Yay for Barak Obama and America!!

La Bomba de Tiempo

Up until last night we spent our Monday evenings in Buenos Aires relaxing idly in our apartment, usually cooking a big dinner that will last us into the week. Besides the fact that leftovers are always fun and cost effective, we have frisbee practice Tuesday nights and the last thing we want to do us come home after running around for two hours and have to do more than just heat up food to eat. But we made our big meal (a HUGE pan of delicious eggplant parmesan that only gets better with age) Sunday night, we felt at liberty to hit the town for a little bit, still returning home for our usual 10:30-11:00pm dinner. Lucky for us, there is the perfect event that fits these tight specifications: La Bomba de Tiempo. Apparently, Julia knew about this get together for quite some time but failed to share it with me. It takes place every Monday night at the Konex Cultural Center in the Buenos Aires neighborhood of Once. Our friend Nick (for those who don't know him, the viking from Julia's Halloween post) advised us to arrive around 7:30 because it sometimes sells out by 8:00pm, which is still half an hour before La Bomba de Tiempo even begins. He described the show as a big percussion event, but I still didn't know what to expect. I initially envisioned something akin to the drum circle at Malcolm X Park in Washington, D.C., where everyone was welcome to dance, drum, sing, stand or sit on the side as they pleased, except that you had to pay an entrance fee.

We stepped off the bus, which took us from door to door, at around 7:50pm and found a line of people waiting to get in stretching around the block. The temperature had cooled down by that point (someone flipped the hot switch on Saturday because it's been sweltering down here the past few days), so it was quite pleasant outside, especially with a bottle of Quilmes in hand. We also bought a snack from people walking up and down the line, which might prove to be a form of employment once Julia finishes her class this Friday. Our thirty-five minute wait gave us the chance to examine the population that frequents La Bomba de Tiempo, which was mostly hippies and hipsters but also a large group of run-of-the-mill porteños and foreigners like us. By the time we got in and met up with our friends, it was obvious that La Bomba de Tiempo was not what I expected. First of all, it was actually a performance, not an interactive event, in the open square outside the center. I thought La Bomba de Tiempo was the name performance, when it is the name of the main act. They sit and stand on a large, orange stairway that begins near the middle of the square and runs towards one of the top corners of the buildings (see the pictures included, it's hard to describe). The band plays multiple forms of percussion, not to mention some horns. Some form of accompanyment joins them every week, this week's guest being a guitarrist who provided another level to the already multi-layered composition. There was a good deal of barefoot and "shoed" dancing going on, we chose the latter variety. And of course, the process of buying beer involved waiting in multiple lines, none of which had any semblance of order to them. Overall, it was a really fun, easy night that didn't get out too late. I'm not sure if it will become a Monday tradition, but I can definitely see us catching many more shows in the future.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States of America...

I feel like we missed the opportunity to come out with our endorsement for President and have it actually matter. By this point, most everyone has decided for who they will vote. But that may not have been the case 4 weeks ago (that's right, today marks our 4 week anniversary with Buenos Aires. We've yet to exchange gifts with it, but Julia has her fingers crossed in hope that it gives her a new bag). At the time, we could have run a huge spread pledging our expat support for which ever candidate we viewed as being the better option to lead our native country out of these perilous times, even though it probably would have been obscured by the giant shadow cast by much more dramatic endorsements coming from Colin Powell, Christopher Buckley, and Homer Simpson. Or maybe we didn't want to turn off any fence-sitting readers with political discourse overtly stating our preferences and thus alienating potential followers. Either way, better late than never, so as you ALL make your way to the polls today, remember that juliasabroadblog.blogspot.com resoundingly supports Barack Hussein Obama as the next president of the United States of America. I know that I cannot make the case for Obama's ability to inspire and enact positive domestic and international change with more eloquence or persuasion than other have before me. I won't harp on McCain's lack of a balanced temperament, willingness to stray from the traditional Republican platform that has helped bring the country to its knees, or judgement (gotcha journalism!). I don't want to talk about "Joe the Plumber", or his cousin "Joe Six-Pack", and if I hear someone refer to "Main Street" one more time I may impale myself with the sharpest object within my reach.
I'm being bombarded by conflicting emotions at this point. Nervousness, confidence, anxiety, near victory. I really hope that the voters, not political operatives, malfunctioning voting machines, or the courts end up deciding this election. But more than anything, I really hope Barack Obama wins. I truly think he's the best candidate and a McCain/Palin White House scares the crap out of me. And if the latter comes to be, it might just be toodaloo USA, Buenos Aires is pretty nice. So get out there, cast your lot in this historic election, and prey for an Obama victory if you want to guarantee you'll see me again in the States.

Holloween

When I studied abroad we celebrated Halloween by dressing up in whatever we had in our closets (I was business causal Barbie) and went to our favorite bar Celebrate. This year I really wasn't too excited for the holiday seeing as I had really nothing to wear and didn't really care. However, we were invited to a costume party and I was jokingly told I would have to pay ten pesos if I didn't dress up. During a nap I had the brilliant idea to just buy a sheet and to be a Greek Goddess. A gold necklace for a belt, and little dramatic makeup and my costume was complete!

Josh and I went to my friend Jen's place and I helped her to put on this amazing body art:
and her pirate costume was complete!! A few glasses of wine later and we taxied it over to my school where the party was.
The party was at first full of Americans. Of course no respectful porteño would arrive at a party before one am, but arrive they did in crazy costumes.






Here is my friend Aflie's brother and his girl friend.


















Here is Alfie dressed as Michael Jackson, which is creepy because he really looked like him, and even had a few of the dance moves down.













Ché and myself, who else?











Josh and Nick rocking the ultimate face hair as Average Joe six pack the Plumber and a Viking.









Some of the guys from my class, Alfie and Josh.
So a good time was had by all, even after Ted got so drunk he said "What are you from England or something?" to Des. Now this makes a lot more sense when you understand that Des (the skeleton) is as Irish as they come and that this is possibly the worst insult you could throw at someone who is Irish. At that point it was five in the morning and time to go home. But all in all it was a successful Halloween and it was wonderful to spend the night on a roof top in the cool Buenos Aires air, which is redundant since aires means air, but you get my drift.

Midnight Marauders

As I mentioned in my last post, buses passing beneath our window tend to interrupt my golden slumbers. Last night, my ears caught something far louder and a much more dangerous. I don't know what time this all took place because I forbid Julia from looking at the clock because it would old make matters worse given she has an early wake up call weekday mornings, but let's say it was about 3:00 am. At first, I couldn't tell what was going on. Sure, I could hear lots of people (they sounded like teens) running, yelling, and breaking bottles, but that kind of behavior could signify any number of things: general tomfoolery on a Tuesday night in Buenos Aires, the continuation of any number of protests and demonstrations that take place on a daily basis (such as in the picture to the right), a reaction to early reports that Diego Maradona would become the new manager for Argentina's national squad (proof that the United States is not the only country where former alcoholics and drug addicts are selected to hold prestigious positions), the adverse psychological impact of the global economic crisis, or, and maybe I'm reading too far into this, a wake up call for all expats in the area to remind them to vote in just one week (actually, I was just looking for any reason to insert the hyperlink, check it out, shout out to Dan Kenner).
I quickly ascertained that the commotion outside was due to none of the previously stated reasons. Its duration was too long, its intensity too malicious. I ventured to poke my head outside to see the activity taking place below us, where I was confronted by an all-out battle! The bottles we heard breaking were not being thrown at the street, walls, or even store windows, but rather at each other! It was by no means a melee in the truest sense. In fact, it actually seemed carefully choreographed. One hoard would rush the other, hurling bottles at their opponents only to retreat back from whence it came as their former prey charged at them, all the while screaming profanities, mostly a word that rhymes with "foota".
From what I saw, it never seemed like anyone was in real danger of being struck by a bottle. The respective fronts were at least thirty yards apart and usually sprinting away from their pursuers, so a successful hit would have required a rocket arm. Still, there was an unmistakable raw aggression on display on the street below us, and although we didn't feel personally threatened at the time, it would have been a different story had we arrived home from a night out in the middle this fray. The confrontation didn't last for more than ten minutes, after which both groups scattered into the night.
I feel like I have to give a disclaimer: please, especially the mothers who read our blog, don't be frightened by this story. I don't wish to incite parental second guessing or excessive worry about us being down here. Overall, we've felt very safe here. By no means are we complacent in our behavior, or näive to the fact muggings to take place - we know two people who have been unfortunate enough to be victims. But by and large, we generally feel at ease. That's not to say we don't take taxis in cases when we would have walked in DC, or that we're not careful when we're out and about at night. Just like any other big city, you can't walk around Buenos Aires at night with your head in the clouds, especially in less crowded areas, nor should you do so alone. We know, we are careful, so no need to be any more worried than you already were.

Here is a little something to make sure you finish reading this post with a smile on your face:

Candid on the Calle: Part Deux

Back again with some more shots from my walk yesterday and more on the streets of BsAs.
Some non fashion related candid shots:
An unfortunately very common sight in this city. I see at least one crash a week here and sometimes two. This was my first of the week (it being Monday and all) but it looks like the taxi driver might not be driving for a while. This might explain why I am often hesitant to cross the street. There are NO pedestrian rights here. Someone I know actually saw a taxi driver hit a woman. My friend told me she saw the taxi driver just slap his hand to his forehead and shake his head. All I could think of was that he was definitely thinking, "OH no, not again!"

This is another common sight in BsAs. The dog walking profession is very taken very seriously here. They are trained professionals who not only can walk upwards of ten dogs at a time but who also give the dogs their medicines. It’s amazing to see a pack of eight dogs walking calmly down the street, but the moment the dog walker ties them to a tree to get another dog or to run into a shop they start barking like all hell is breaking loose.


Not sure about this one. I saw the cobwebs on the banister and thought this might be one person's attempt at Halloween decorations.
The Beast from "Beauty and The Beast" and...a blue penguin? I just don't know. I do know that the blue penguin was pretty scary.

These last two pictures are just amazing people with amazing fashion. Unfortunately you cannot see
the woman in the red suit thing's fishnet stockings because they are nude in color, and the fact that her hair pretty much matches her coat and dress didn't show up that well either. I just thought she was...ultimate and amazing.

And last but not least this girl was just too amazing. I'm not sure if you can tell but her pants are that kind with the über saggy crotch. I could never pull it off and I really don't get those pants, but the overall effect is very cool.
When originally asked about porteños and their fashion, my initial response was that I hadn't noticed any. But now that the winter coats are finally coming off I am seeing that there is a style here very different from anywhere I have ever been. It is very casual and therefore can be effortlessly cool looking. No one wears fancy dresses to any of the bars or clubs I have been to (a relief for me is that I can always wear flats out without feeling silly) and if you are not wearing boots and not in a suit you are wearing sneakers. There is a flair for practicality but still a desire to stand out. I am not sure who made purple the new black, but everyone looks great in it so it works for me.

Candid on the Calle Part Uno: The Color Purple

Today I got out of class early, so decided to walk home. Yes, this was a little crazy and took me an hour, but it was also the first time I remembered to bring my camera with me in a while. So, here for your viewing pleasure are candids on the calle (the street didn't sound as good).
Something I have noticed about BsAs is the absurd amount of purple on the street. To start with there is a purple subte line. There is this purple truck:









But people here like to take things to the next level. It is also all the purple pants:
Notice purple jeans, purple slacks, all kinds of purple pants. You are
also getting to see a shot of three BsAs youths in classic form.
Converse, bright color shirt, purple pants, long hair on boys and girls.
And of course coats or hoodies even though I'm sweating in long sleeves.








Of course one can not forget about the top half of the body. I've even seen a guy get on a bus here with the most beautiful purple sweater, unfortunately the only male specimen I have for you today is wearing a purple tee-shirt. We will have to make do. But people are wearing purple tops everywhere, in the street, in a park, and while dashing down the calle. Its truly all the rage.


Now some people here take purple to an even higher level. These are the folks who are all about matching. I myself have been inspired by the fashion here to attempt matching an outfit for the first time in my life. Why just this morning I realized I should wear my white sandals to match my white tank top. I know you are all thinking, "My goodness! Julia can't match for @#$%, has she changed so much since she left?" No, I have not changed so much, I am only trying to be porteño as possible. So here are a few of my inspirations:
Kids on their lunch break: these girls match each other. One has purple pants while the other might have purple pants but definitely a purple bag.

This girl went for the matching shirt and bag. A look I am not inspired to copy, but still admirable:

Now this woman is serious about matching. All others are amateurs compared to her. At first glance you notice her matching purple bag and nails. But take a closer look and you notice she also has matching purple earring and a purple scarf. That's nails, earrings, bag, and scarf all matching. I am not only jealous but amazed. She is someone for me to look up to.

Now for the woman who just goes there. She goes all the way. There is no need to describe it, it is amazing:
She is wearing an entirely purple outfit (if only her bag were purple and not white!! We were so close. Once I actually saw a woman wearing an entirely green outfit including accessories. All I could think of was if only my costume had been that cute when I was a munchkin in the Wizard of Oz. For some reason I wore valour leggings instead of a green skirt with matching...everything).

Also, I know you are wondering and yes, this was all from one walk that took an hour, and I didn't even include all of my pictures or all of the people wearing purple or the window I tried to take a picture of that had 4 out of 5 manikins wearing purple outfits. All I can say is, its a good thing I love purple.

More to come on candid on the calle...

Not From Concentrate, Just Like This Blog

That's right, it's fresh squeezed baby!! This weekend we broke out our apartment's juicer not only on Saturday but on Sunday as well!! At two oranges per cup and around three pesos per kilo of oranges it’s the best deal in town. I am all for joining street vendors on Sunday in selling a cup of fresh squeezed OJ for just five pesos. We could make a fortune. But as Josh pointed out this would involve a lot of manual labor, and really could result in carpal tunnel syndrome. Best keep the fresh juice making en la casa.

I also believe that two Sundays in a row a tradition does make, and we now officially have a Sunday breakfast tradition that takes up one step closer to living life porteño style. After waking up late on Sunday (even though we didn't do anything the night before) we get ready and travel less than one block to our local pastry shop. There we purchase all kinds of wicked pastries that no American would ever consider healthy in any way. And then we proceed to eat them. Unlike last week we brought these home, and I bought a few extra media lunas (literally half moons, or a croissant) (I bugged Josh all morning by accidentally calling them mezza lunas) for breakfast during the week. We also made coffee for the first time. To our surprise there was only ONE brand of coffee that did not come with sugar already added. This was also the case with the milk. By this point I should not be surprised because Argentines love everything sweet sweet sweet, but the fact that there is only one brand of sugar with calories still gets me every time. Here is a photo of Josh and our complete breakfast.
Of course breakfast was not the entire weekend. Friday night we went to a party hosted by two guys in my class. We played an Irish drinking game which disappointingly turned out to just be Kings with less rules, but it was still fun. We then went to a bar/club where they were selling liters of Stella. Not a good idea.
To say the least we spent Saturday hanging out and went to see "Burn After Reading" in theatres. Going to the movie theatre here can be a little awkward for me if the movie is a comedy seeing as not everything translates and I end up laughing much harder than everyone else. Oh well, sometimes it’s good to be a native speaker with an American sense of humor.
Today, after our delectable breakfast Josh walked me part of the way to a museum before turning around to make it home in time to sign up for fantasy football with friends from home. I met my friend Erin at the Museo National des Bellas (pronounced bejas here because of the accent) Artes. We saw some of the permanent collection which had an impressive amount of impression pieces, and then a fantastic exhibit by Italians of modern art. Seeing as it was free I am totally going back soon to have a second look.
Afterwards we were obviously tired (we both walked a ways to get there) so after watching two songs played by a rock band in the park across the street from the museum (they rocked very hard) we wondered down the street till we found the cutest cafe. We ordered tea (it was tea time) and the most amazing crepes filled with verduras filling (which means just spinach and cheese) that were served soaking in a cream sauce. Bet you can't guess how many lactaid pills I took. For all those who were wondering, they are working pretty well.
After a long walk home I made it back just in time for a nice chat with the much missed sister, and then we heated up some left over roasted chicken, spruced up last night's salad and had a nice little dinner of leftovers. The time of this post proves I am still affected by caffeine, but it’s time for bed. Another week of school begins and my course is half way over. Wish me luck!

Yerba maté

Here is a post for mom, and all others who were confused as to why we are drinking out of gourds:

To start with, a quote from Wikipedia:

The infusion called maté is prepared by steeping dry leaves (and twigs) of yerba maté in hot water, rather than in boiling water like black tea. It is a slightly less potent stimulant than coffee and much gentler on the stomach. Drinking maté with friends from a shared hollow gourd (also called a mate in Spanish, or cabaça or cuia in Portuguese) with a metal straw (a bombilla in Spanish, bomba or canudo in Portuguese) is an extremely common social practice in Argentina, Uruguay, Paraguay, southern Chile, eastern Bolivia and Southern Region, Brazil, and also Syria, Lebanon and Jordan.

Here is a picture. The maté in this picture is set into metal as many are. You can go very simple, but many are ornate and could be displayed as art.



At the end of the metal straw is a filter so the yerba stays in the maté and not your mouth (this works most of the time).
Unlike other teas you do not strain the water before consumption. One fills the mate three quarters full with mate with the straw in the gourd. Then you fill the gourd with hot water (never boiling) until the yerba is saturated, but not over saturated. Let it sit for a minute and drink down a very bitter infusion. Then you are free fill and refill your gourd and drink as many times as you would like. One of my favorite things about maté is that it is a very communal practice. On Sundays in the market in San Telmo, people walk around with a thermos, a gourd, their straw and a yerba supply refilling from the thermos as they pass around the maté. I have no thermos and am so far confined to my flat while drinking my mate, but it is now an integral part of my breakfast routine. The taste is often described as a mix between green tea and coffee hence my excessive use of sugar when I began drinking it. Today I am proud to say I drank mate with no sugar!! Big steps being taken over here!! My new dream is to share a mate with real porteños in the streets of BsAs, but there is time for this. Another interesting thing I enjoy after maté is the pleasant aftertaste it leaves in your mouth.
Other news:
My class is going really well and my practice lessons have been going well too. My practice lesson today was idioms with the advanced. It was a fun lesson to teach and I got to act out some of the idioms which I hope was as entertaining for them as it was for me. The lesson was my best so far. We are going out tonight to a friend’s party. Two of the guys in my class live together and are throwing a party for the whole class, so almost everyone I know in BsAs will be there! Around 1 am we will probably go to a bar, but I don't know if I can make it out till six am again!! Frisbee tomorrow, and then I might have some people over for brunch on Sunday for some good old American breakfast. We´ll see, and I will keep you posted!

The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

If forced to choose, I would probably elect buses as my favorite mode of public transportation. Sure, they transform 15 minute rides into near hour long journeys, but I cannot get over how much I prefer them. I didn’t really “hop on the bus” until I got back from my semester in Madrid, where I routinely took the bus right across the street from my flat downtown to the park or back home once the subways stopped running late at night. So not only did I return from Spain with a proper Castilian accent, I came back with a renewed love for riding buses. It’s definitely one of my favorite parts of living in a city, even though I did ride the B-Bus as a kid when I couldn’t get a ride to a friend’s house (that’s right, the Berkshires have public transportation).

Buenos Aires is no different. It’s actually quite comparable to the DC publican transportation system in a way: while the subways are frustratingly limited in their service, buses go EVERYWHERE! There are literally hundreds of bus lines that run throughout the city, all day every day (as evidenced by our late night last weekend), which can seem intimidating at first. But besides knowing where you are and where you’re going, a sense of adventure, and one peso (equal to 33 cents, which is harder to come by than it sounds given the shortage of coins in Buenos Aires), all you need is a Guía T to take advantage of buses in Buenos Aires.

Oddly enough, using this book is exactly like buying a cell phone, hair dryer, or any other electronic device at a store in Buenos Aires. With the latter, you find a store clerk who directs you to one register where you pay and are subsequently directed to another desk where you get a slip of paper, which allows you to pick up your item at another desk (usually off to the side, in the back, or downstairs) where you finally pick up your merchandise. The sequence of events may not always be in that order, but you get the idea – it’s not the most straightforward process. The same goes for the Guía T: you look up your current address and that of your destination, go to the appropriate map pages and grid coordinates as indicated, look for buses in your area or surrounding squares that go to your destination, and then finally look at the bus list to see what streets it runs along so you know where to get on and off. Luckily, using the Guía T takes but minutes, as opposed to the relative marathon of buying electronics and it has yet to fail us.

However, unlike in DC, the buses themselves do not possess the modernizations that make bus travel both user and more environmentally friendly: first, a recording/sign telling which stop is next, which makes you pay more attention to your surroundings lest you go beyond your desired stop; second, the buses do not run on natural gas. It’s not as much of a problem on the major avenues as it is on narrow side streets where pedestrians have nowhere to run from the black, noxious fumes coming out of their exhaust pipes. My only other problem with the buses is that some of them are exceedingly loud. I’m ok with putting a conversation on hold while a bus roars by, but it presents a difficulty when one jars me from light sleep. Some buses are especially obnoxious. You know the sound cushions on rented chairs make when you sit down? Multiple that by one hundred, and you approach the noise some of these buses make when they pass beneath our window. Its as if they are have an extreme asthma attack (shout out to all our asthmatic readers out there, I love each and everyone of you) every fifteen minutes throughout the night.

So why do I still pledge my allegiance to these smoke spouting loud mouths? On principle, public transportation is still a very ease way that we can lessen our carbon footprint – check out Thomas Friedman’s Op-Ed in yesterday’s NYT about how in the midst of economic crisis, the government and its citizens should not forget about “going green” and even use it as a vehicle for economic stimulation. In practicality, riding the bus it gives me a panoramic tour of the city and allows me to get to know it even better. It keeps me on my toes and forces me to figure out the geography of the city quicker than if I were to travel by subway or take a taxi. Lastly, and I didn’t discover this motive until I rode the bus a lot in Madrid, it makes me feel more like a local than a tourist - of course I’ve yet to reach that point. Someone who is just passing through a city has less reason to decipher an extensive and complicated system, whereas a local is more likely to be familiar with all forms of public transportation at their disposal. For the cities I’ve lived in, familiarity with the bus system is almost part and parcel of truly living there. I don’t present this last reason as fact, just something that makes me feel more intimate with a city, even if its just at a somewhat superficial level. Nor do I pretend that this tendency make me akin to a long time resident. More than anything, it makes me feel more like more than just someone visiting.

You may disagree, or think I'm overstating my point. That’s cool, I just don’t have time to argue right now – I’ve got a bus to catch.

Weekend Update

I know it’s been a few days, but you will have to forgive my absence because I've been so busy, or very tired from being busy. Let me fill you in on the details of our second weekend in BsAs. Friday we ate a quiet dinner at home and then left to meet up with Nick at a bar called Jackie O in Palermo that was suggested to us by a guy who works for EBC (where I take my TEFL course). We took the bus and of course we were late because we are us. We met up with my friend Erin in front of the bar and then spent half an hour looking for an ATM because Palermo is too fancy to have more than one ATM in one square mile. When we got correct directions (after many misleading ones) we were told in Spanish by two old men: "Oh, it is around the corner to the right, but very often there is a vigilante so be careful." Thus warned we proceeded to the ATM on guard but there were no vigilantes in sight, and we made it to the bar only one hour late. By this time it was 1 am and most of the Argentines in the neighborhood had finally wrapped up their dinners and we headed into the bar. Upstairs we met many of my classmates who I introduced to Josh. The rest of the night involved your average amount of shenanigans which were enhanced by the addition of Fernet into our lives. Nick was insistent that this was the only drink for real Argentinean men to drink but I dodged any attempts made to order me a Fernet. Josh was not so lucky to escape the night without consuming his fair share. All of a sudden the lights went on and my eyes checked my watch. To my surprise it was already around six o'clock in the morning!! Yes!!! I had succeeded! It only took two Fridays in BsAs to party till morning, dance till the sun rose, and to take the bus home in dawn’s bright light (which is much safer than at the dead of night). I decided this was the course to take in the future if not for the fun of it but the safety!
So the night was a success, many bonds were formed and none broken. We arrived home at 6:30 am and shared the street with a surprising amount of other young people on their way home and of course those heading in the opposite journey: out to start their day. After a quick hydration on the balcony we slept dreamless sleeps until 2 pm and then met Nick for schwarma and a day of Frisbee.
Now I thought I was going out for a day of harmless fun, but we were in for something serious. This was not the kind of Frisbee we played on boys’ campus at Ramah b'Poconos. Oh no, this was ULTIMATE Frisbee, and our team name is the Cadillacs as in the song "Just bought a Cadillac..." Our cheer consists of two words, cervesa and churipan. Churipan is apparently a gastronomic delight consisting of a sausage in a bun. Once eaten, a person has seen the light and will never revert back to his or her non churipan eating ways. As you will see we were kept in the dark because the cafeteria we visited after the game was only able to supply the cervesa. Alas, they were out of churipan...
So we met up in a park very far away from San Telmo where people just drive their cars out on the field and chill next to them. This makes perfect sense when you think about it, but was still unexpected and something I've never seen. There was even a cab parked next to a tree in the middle! But one never has to worry about parking and a sound system with your car by your side, so you have to admire it.
We warmed up and practiced for a while. We did jogging and drills and stretches, and I found out I am terrible at Frisbee. This team is full of amazing people though. Some Argentine, some Americans who are studying abroad (everyone tries to spend the whole time speaking Spanish though), and everybody wanted to help me improve. It was fun, and exhausting. I hadn't done so much sprinting since high school.
At this point I was, as they say, feeling the burn but it was time to walk to another field which felt like a mile away, but that might have just been me. We got some much needed water and the two BA Ultimate teams were reunited. The league only has two teams, but up until recently there was only one team so everyone knows everyone. After kissing what felt like everyone in BsAs I was truly exhausted and there was still a game to play!!
I only played for five minutes before I decided, or rather my body decided, that I had had more than enough. Oh and there was the fact that I could not really breath, but who's counting? Man am I out of shape. I was also fortunate enough to stay clear of the Frisbee! Unfortunately my team lost, but it was fun and I met many people. Argentineans are the friendliest people I have ever met, but the Colombians were great too, and the study abroad kids were very helpful. Especially one girl, Bennet, who took a liking to me and has decided to teach me Spanish. It was fun. We took a long bus ride back with intentions to go to the movies, but I was literally shaking with fatigue after a shower and fell fast asleep soon after.
We woke up on a wonderful BsAs Sunday morning (really afternoon) and lazily went to the bakery for some breakfast (yummy mezzalunas, a donut and this apple thing) which we ate on the street and then went to the market for food because out pantry was more than bare. Josh spent the rest of the day watching football with Nick, and I was treated to a wonderful day alone (something I had not done for a very long time except when in transit).

I made my third purchase (extra points if you can remember our first two...if we even mentioned it) which are a pair of beautiful handcrafted silver earrings for the sweet price of 40 pesos.

Later in the day my new friend Jen from my TEFL course finally made it down to San Telmo after I sent her all the way to the opposite end of the city on the subte by accident. We walked around what was left of the fair and I found my first BsAs drum circle!!!

Very small in comparison to Malcolm X Park, but...what isn't. There were also dozens of couples tangoing in the square which was very cute to watch. This picture is from the same spot earlier that day.

We got some wine for dinner and headed back to make our first homemade steak. A success!! It was delish and perfectly cooked thanks to Josh, and Jen and I spent the night talking as Josh passed out on the couch while the Red Sox lost (small very selfish sigh of relief for me as I no longer have to watch baseball). A very tired us went to bed after we put Jen in a taxi, and a very full and happy weekend came to a close. I am still not sure how people consistently keep up this kind of weekend, but I will keep you posted. I'm sure it has something to do with the Mate tea that I have been trying to fall in love with...I'll keep trying. Hope all is well with everyone!!