Epilogue

I guess I have to say I miss Buenos Aires. It's good to be home, but I miss being in Argentina. I miss speaking Spanish and kissing people. I miss the cafes and of course the ice cream. I miss dancing tango with a very good tango dancer, even though I don't miss him saying "mas pivot". I really have mixed feelings about being at home. I love the weather here, especially in the summer. The fresh air, and the fresh produce at the farmer's market. I love my apartment and being able to cook healthy dinners or go out and eat any kind of food I want (Burmese, Mexican, Chinese, Vietnamese, Indian, etc....)

But the other day I stopped in a place called Bittersweet Cafe. It is a chocolateria. They have really wonderful hot chocolate and all kinds of other chocolate things. It was a beautiful day and I wanted to sit outside, but there were no cafes with outdoor seating in the part of town I was in (even though there were several coffee shops). Instead I settled for a cup of hot chocolate and was going to sit inside and look out the window.

I got my hot chocolate and went and sat on a stool in the front window. There was a girl who I think worked there talking to the guys behind the counter. She was almost shouting, she was talking so loud. I was thinking of all of the places I went to in Buenos Aires and except for the one place that was popular with the Sopranos, no one was ever shouting. There is this way of speaking that is popular with young women here that is very loud and annoying. I don't understand it.

Then, things quieted down - for just a moment. Next some loud music started playing and that was followed by the loud whirring of a machine as they made some sort of foamy chocolate drink. It was horrible. I was glad I got my hot chocolate in a to go cup, because I walked outside where I could hear myself think.

On the other hand, I took a walk yesterday through the Presidio, which is a former military base and is now a National Park with wonderful views and trails and old colonial style houses and a cemetary. From my apartment, it's about a 15 minute walk to the Presidio. I walk through a beautiful neighborhood with big palatial homes (that don't seem to have people living in them). There are flowers blooming everywhere and the air is fresh and there is hardly any traffic (or any people). Once in the Presidio, I'm surrounded by tall eucalyptus and pine tress and fresh air and amazing views of the bay.

I guess the conclusion is that there are wonderful cultural things about Argentina that I really miss - the kissing, the cafes, the way they speak Spanish, but there are wonderful environmental things about the Bay Area that I'm not quite ready to give up. If somehow I could have both, then I'd be in heaven. Until I can figure out how to do that, I guess I'm going to have to settle with being happy with the good things I have in this moment.

The Final Chapter

Wow! My blog has received over 1,000 hits since I put the counter on it. Who is READING it?

I am sorry to say that this will probably be the final posting. I'm back in my lovely apartment in San Francisco, where it is summer, the sun is shining, a gentle breeze is blowing, I'm listening to classical music and it's good to be home.

The trip was, well, a trip.

I hate airports, and Buenos Aires airport, Ezeiza, was pretty crazy.

I had a arrangements for a car to pick me up at 5:30, which is what Tomas, the guy who works for the rental agency that I got my apartment through, recommended. He said someone would be there a few minutes before that to get the keys and return my security deposit.

At 5:25 the buzzer sounded. It was the driver. I told him I had to wait to return the keys - maybe 5 minutes. He said he'd wait.

I waited 15 minutes and then began to panic. I could have left the keys and just left, but I wanted my deposit back. I decided to take my bags downstairs to save some time, which I did. I waited a few minutes down there, and then went back up. Because there is this weird thing where you can not call cell phones from land lines, I was unable to call Ralf or Tomas from my phone. But I had a calling card which I used to call my parents that had a few pesos left on it. I fished it out of the trash and called Tomas. I told him the driver was waiting and I was waiting for someone to return the deposit. Then we got cut off - my card ran out of credits.

Almost immediately after that, the elevator door opened, and the guy who had my deposit showed up. While he was there, Tomas called him, and he said he was with me. I told him I called Tomas because the driver was there and we were waiting. He told me it was no problem, that the driver could wait. I told him that I was told someone would be there before 5:30. He told me it was no problem because the driver was hired to take me to the airport and he had to wait for me. What he missed was that it was *I* who was waiting, and I wasn't as concerned about the driver as I was about me not knowing what was going on. I thought it would have been better if he had simply apologized.

I thought I'd be sad leaving Buenos Aires, but in fact I was relieved after the slight hassle with the wait. The roads were pretty empty and we breezed to the airport. We got there shortly after 6. My flight was a 9:05. I had plenty of time to spare and was going to look for a massage in the airport and maybe dinner.

I walked in and was accosted from all side by people wanting to wrap my bags in plastic, rent me a luggage cart and I don't know what else. I ignored all of them because I was looking at this enormous line that ran the length of the airport. I couldn't believe I was going to have to wait in that line. I was flying Business Class, I am not supposed to wait!

I walked to the end of the line, but was not sure if it was for United, so I asked a security guard, and he told me United was on the other side of the line. So, I went around the line, and fought through the crowds to get to the United check-in, where there was no line and no one waiting.

I breezed through the check-in, and got my boarding pass. Next, on to pay my airport tax. And another line.

This line was not possible to get around. So I went around the maze and eventually got to the window where I paid my tax of $18. There really must be an easier way to collect that. I've been in many airports that charge airport tax, but never had to wait in such a long line to pay it.

Up I went to security. And another line. Another long line. I had no choice but to wait. The airport was really hot, I took off my jacket, but was still sweating. I had my laptop and a carry on bag with everything that wouldn't fit in my overpacked luggage. Both were heavy and I was uncomfortable and hot, but I could do nothing but wait.

I cleared security and breathed a sigh of relief. I could now find a place to relax. As I walked towards my gate, I came across another line. This time I had to go through passport control. I thought that the whole system was designed by some masochist who thought it would be funny to put travelers through all of these checkpoints, almost like an obstacle course.

I waited in another long line, until I got my passport stamped. Now I was done. Or was I?

Turned out that was it.

I stopped in Duty Free and bought some cologne with my left over pesos. I really wanted to buy wine, but didn't want to carry anything else that would weigh anything.

I found my gate and then looked for a place to hang out. There were a few restaurants, but they were all crowded and had long lines. When I checked in, they told me that the Red Carpet club was being renovated, but I could use the American Express Club. I wasn't sure what this meant, but when I saw the United Red Carpet club, I thought maybe there would be some wine and something to eat and a place to relax. So I set out to find the American Express Club.

When I entered, a guy said, "he's from United", and sent me down to a woman at the end of the counter. How did he know I was from United? She looked at my boarding pass and then told me they'd make an announcement at 8:30 when we were going to board.

I found a seat next to the air conditioner, which was on and felt great and dropped all of my stuff down and sat down. The room was packed, and people were reading, drinking, some people were working on laptops. I went up to the bar and got a glass of wine, which was free. Soon they came out with some cheese and crackers and olives. I loaded up a plate and sat down and enjoyed my wine and cheese. Not bad.

After a while I got bored, and left. I walked back towards my gate and saw the massage station I had passed on the way to the American Express Club. There were two massage chairs free. I walked up and said I wanted a 30 minute massage and was seated in the chair. It was a nice neck and shoulder massage which cost me $25 US for 30 minutes. More than what I was paying in Buenos Aires, but a good way to kill time.

I got to my gate and they had already boarded all of the people who were in the waiting area. After clearing security again, I got on the plane, which was still relatively empty. I settled in, was offered a glass of champagne, which I accepted, and relaxed in my very comfortable seat.

The flight was about half full when we took off, which was very unusual. Business class had lots of empty seats and the seat next to me was empty, which I liked. It gave me more room to spread out.

I had a few more glasses of champagne, and then a glass of red wine with my filet mignon. Dinner was great, and I was getting drunk. All of the rushing and worrying had faded behind me and I was now enjoying the fruits of getting to the airport early, the massage and the many glasses of wine and champagne I'd had. I watched a movie with Meg Ryan and then tried to sleep.

After flying business class on this long flight, I can't imagine going back to economy. I was able to get this ticket in business class because I had miles from my credit card. I think it's better to take fewer trips and spend more (or use miles) on a ticket, than to travel a lot and get squeezed into economy. I think of all of those long, crowded flights to Asia that I used to do. Horrible!

Well, I arrived in one piece, got through customs and immigration in D.C. (more lines and more waiting, and more hot airports - this time because it was really hot in D.C.). I made it to SFO, my friend Maria picked me up, I got my car and made it home to my apartment, which ws nice and clean and almost just like I left it.

I now have some unpacking to go and then will be ready for a nap.

I have to say that this was one of the best things I've done since I've started having summers off. I've done other fun things in the summer, but this was REALLY fun. Studying Spanish, even though it was frustrating at times, really taught me a lot about being a language learner, and a teacher, and I did learn some Spanish. It was fun taking tango lessons, and having a fantasy romance, and being in a beautiful, yet affordable city.

I'm glad I was able to keep a blog and take lots of photos so that I can remember this trip. I'm glad to many of my friends enjoyed reading my blog and let me know. But more than anything, I am glad to be home.

I will definitely be going back to Buenos Aires - either next summer or for my sabbatical, or both. I don't know if I'll do a blog when I return, because I don't know that it will be as exciting as it was for me, this first time.

Thanks to everyone who traveled with me on this blog.

The End.

Hernan

A few people have asked me why I haven't posted photos of Hernan. To be honest, I haven't taken any photos of him. I don't know why, but I guess I was just so much enjoying his company that I never thought to take a photo. The last night when we had our dinner at the Spanish restaurant, I told him, "Quiero una foto de voz" and he said, "una foto tuya". I wasn't sure what he meant at first, but it turned out he was correcting my Spanish. Hmmmph!

Well, anyway, I never got to take a photo that night because I didn't bring my camera with me and he and I went our separate ways afterwards, but I e-mailed him and asked him for a photo. This is what he sent.

What can I say? He's an artist, and this is artistic as are all of the photos I've seen that he's taken.

So folks, it's really not about what he looked like, but take my word, he is very cute, it's about the experiences I had with him. I like this photo because I don't feel like I'm invading his privacy by posting it.

Last Dinner with Hernan

Well my fantasy romance has come to an end. I know all this time I've been pretending that I've been dating Hernan, and I have to admit now, there's been a little bit of distortion by omission. I guess I'd have to say we are just friends. I'll let you interpret from there and spare the details.

But I have to say that it's been a wonderful friendship and a great fantasy romance.

Tonight we had our final dinner.

I was able to come home from school and my zig-zag walk home and take a nap, then watch a little TV Cronica and some game shows before Hernan got here. He made reservations for us at a Spanish restaurant not too far from here - located in this strange group of restaurants under the Avenida 9 de Julio at the very end. I discovered this place one day walking home. It's a great way to cross 9 de Julio without having to wait for the lights (it's impossible in most parts to cross in one light because it's so wide) - just walk under it!

I've taken many walks in my neighborhood, my Sunday morning walks, which I love, when it's quiet and there is no traffic and the air is clean from one day of less traffic, but I have never walked through parts of my neighborhood at night, which was a very strange revelation for me. I always come and go from one direction when I go out at night. Tonight we had to walk in the direction I go to drop off my laundry.

I have seen art galleries around the neighborhood, but didn't realize that visiting art galleries was such the thing to do at night, or maybe it was just tonight. There were several art openings with people wearing furs drinking white wine, and other people leaving galleries en masse and going to others. It was very odd.

We got to the restaurant in a few minutes and they had our table waiting for us.

This is the first restaurant Hernan took me to where I could see the menu (even though I said to myself I was going to bring my glasses, I forgot them). Because it was well lit, I could read the menu, but since I don't know Spanish food, it was like it was in Greek.

Hernan and I discussed some of the options a bit, but he went ahead and ordered.

First he ordered gamba con ajo - turns out it was shrimp with garlic. I don't know why they used a different word from the one I know for shrimp, and even though Hernan explained it to me, I still didn't get it. But they were regular sized shrimp, peeled and headless, in olive oil with nicely fried pieces of garlic. It was delicious.

Then we had pulpo a la something or other. It was octopus, sliced thinly with potatoes and paprika. I never knew paprika had so much flavor. I think I've only used it for deviled eggs. This dish had lots of paprika and also lots of olive oil. It was wonderful. Very rich, and even though it didn't look like a lot, it was really filling. The flavors were fantastic and the octopus was very tender.

We finished with a desert of cream a la catalan, which was basically a creme brulee, and just as yummy.

It was a fun evening, because of the food, but also it was a great place for conchetto-watching.

For anyone who hasn't been paying attention, or who is new to the blog, conchetto/a are people who have a lot of money and show it. I've been told different things about them - they are nouveau rich, or they don't have a lot of money but pretend they do, they are snobbish, affected, women with furs blond hair, etc. But there is something about them, and about this word, that attracts me. You can also say someone or something is 'chetto'.

Well, walking over through my neighborhood and then sitting in this restaurant was like finding the conchetto mother-lode. Because Hernan is a playwrite, and I am not from here, we were both fascinated by the people in this restaurant.

I loved watching this family that was sitting straight ahead of me. The mother reminded me of one of the older women on a Mexican soap opera. The people on Mexican soap operas never look Mexican. They always look very Spanish with blond hair and very European features. But there is always at least one "mala" an evil woman, who taunts some poor young and innocent maiden. And they always live in some big hacienda and there is usually a more Indian-looking family or at least a woman, and a handsome young man who rides horses, and a useless old man. Well, minus the Indian family, this family sitting next to Hernan was exactly like a family from a Mexican soap opera. La mala - the evil, yet elegant older woman, the useless old man, the innocent young maiden, and the young man who rides horses. I imagined them going back to their ranch after the dinner.

I don't know if the young man and woman were a couple or brother and sister, but they got up and went outside while the older couple sat and talked a bit, and then the woman, who was very conchetta, had to put her fur poncho sort of thing on, fluff up her hair and then put her scarf on and throw one loose end of it over her shoulder with great panache. It was quite a Hollywood performance and she reminded me of some aged Hollywood actress who could only find work on game shows, like Kitty Carlisle on Match Game.

There were other people who came in making grand entrances and there was a LOT of fur!

When Hernan went to the bathroom he came back and told me there was a guy in the bathroom who was a famous musical reporter and also kind of musician. He said to imagine Iggy Pop or someone like that, but that image didn't help me understand who he was. I looked back to where he was sitting and saw a slightly older guy, though not too old, with longish, but stylishly cut gray hair sitting down. Meant nothing to me. Hernan said when he was in the bathroom he heard this sound like someone snorting cocaine.

When this guy left, there was a slight hush in the restaurant, though the chatter didn't stop completely, it did die down.

I got up to use the restroom because I love checking out restrooms in all of the places I go here. It's always an adventure because I never know what I'll find.

In so many restaurants I have to stand in front of the doors for a minute to figure out which one is the men's and which is the women's room. I know it sounds strange, especially since I passed level 7, but the reason is that they don't always have them clearly marked. I think it is a trend here to come up with a creative way to signify what is the men's and what is the women's room. Like they'll have a tango shoe - one male shoe and one female shoe, or maybe a geisha or a sumo wrestler, a rose or a cigar. I feel like I'm gender-challenged each time. Do you know which is the male and which is the female signal?

Well, I was please to find today that it said simply, "Damas" and "Caballeros" - I still hesitated, but I pushed open the door with the kind of confidence that someone who passed level 7 should really have.

The nice thing that has happened with Hernan lately is that we're speaking more Spanish. I think I've gained more confidence, and also he has become more patient with my Spanish. I think he thought I didn't really speak Spanish, and it's actually an honor for me to be able to speak it with him, because it means it is tolerable. I know this might be hard for folks to understand, but other than once when I had a few too many drinks of Nicaraguan rum, I haven't had many moments in my life when I felt like I could communicate clearly in Spanish. These two months of class have just confirmed my feeling that it is an elusive goal, because I felt more times when I was not understanding and communicating the way I wanted than times when I was successful. But hanging out with Hernan and knowing that he speaks English fluently, even if not perfectly, and with such cute additions like the Argentine that sounds like Italian accent and the gestures, and being able to speak Spanish with him, feels like a door has been opened to a place I always wanted to go but never quite got to. It was also nice to be able to rely on English from time to time to clarify something, or say something I wanted to but wouldn't otherwise be able to do. Because he wants to practice his English, we were switching back and forth quite a bit. Also, when the waiter came to our table, he'd switch into English, I'm assuming, so the waiter couldn't understand what we were talking about.

It was a fun evening of people watching, great food and good Spanish practice for me.

We talked a little bit about what I could do if I came her for a sabbatical. Hernan thinks I should study cooking and massage, but he said that as a joke (I think) so that I could cook for him and give him massages (little does he know I can do both). We didn't really come up with something, but I think if I came back, rather than mess with this school business, it would be better if I found a way to put myself in a position where I had to interact with people on a daily basis and speak Spanish. I don't know what that could be - some sort of volunteer work, or studying something else, I don't know yet.

It was a little sad saying good-bye to Hernan on my corner. I found myself bowing. I don't know what that was about, but I think it was that I felt awkward saying good-bye but not wanting to feel sad about it. I don't really feel sad. It was a short-lived fantasy, and I really enjoyed it. I'd like to hold on to the wonderful feeling of the experience and not spoil it by wanting to hold on to the experience and feeling sad because I can't.

I told Hernan my trip here was a little like Fantasy Island. I was able to live a life here that I am not able to live in San Francisco. Tonight's dinner, with a bottle of wine, appetizer and desert, cost us $80 for the two of us. In San Francisco, a similar dinner of equal quality with the kind of people who were there tonight and the number of furs, would easily cost us $80 each. So, yes, tonight was a little on the extravagant side, but it was affordable for me (I treated Hernan). In San Francisco, I'd really have to think twice before spending that amount of money.

So the whole thing, seeing my money go further than it normally does, having a fake boyfriend, speaking a language that really isn't mine, blending in to the point of people asking me for directions (happened again today), maid and laundry service, etc., etc., was like living a fantasy. But like on Fantasy Island, the show comes to an end and the celebrities who are pretending they are regular people return to their normal lives appreciating them even more because they know they are real.

I hope that I will be able to return to my life and appreciate it more. i think I will. There are so many things I miss and I've been gone long enough to miss them, yet, because I haven't been gone that long, I know they'll still be there when I get back.



(By the way, I've updated my photo blog and will be putting more pictures there before I leave.)

Marcela and Claudia

I took this picture of Marcela and Claudia and it is in focus - I really don't know why that woman who took our pictures made all three blurred (I can understand one). Marcela looks angelic here too. Simply adorable! Marcela is of Italian descent, and Claudia's grandparents are from Syria. A country of immigrants!

Cynthia and Nancy

Here is Nancy and Cynthia on the first floor of the building as we were saying good-bye. It's very strange, when I come home from school I can still hear both of their voices speaking Spanish. They both have very distinctive accents - Cynthia speaks Spanish with a Chinese accent (Argentine Spanish with a Chinese accent is very strange) and Nancy speaks with a very American accent and a little touch of Spain. I wonder what I sound like to them.

los chicos

Here's a photo of the guys who work in the office with the big window - Ignacio (with the red scarf) and Diego. I liked Ignacio a lot - he always called me "Richard" and was very friendly. Diego was a little too officious for me, but he was a nice guy too.

Finished with that school crap...

It is very strange what my hand is doing in this photograph. The woman who took this photo, took three of me, Marcela and Claudia, and all three of them are blurred. I look horrible in all three, but Marcela, who is in the front with the reddish hair, looks adorable in every one. I have to say, Claudia doesn't look too hot either. Marcela looks like a little angel and we're two demons behind her.

Well, I'm finished. I now have two certificates, one certifying that I completed level 6 and the other for level 7.

I got up at 8 this morning, which was earlier than I've been getting up (normal wake up time has been 9 for me lately), but I also went to bed earlier - 12:30.

I took a quick shower, checked my e-mail (and maybe sent some) and had some tea, a little yogurt drink and some walnuts and then had to rush out to be at school by 9:30. I left here about 8:50.

I walked quickly down Florida Street to the subte station on Corrientes. I figured if I was going to travel the subte at rush hour, I was going to get on the train where I'd be able to sit. It took me about 10 minutes to get to the station and when the train arrived, sure enough, it was empty and I got a seat. I got to Pasteur Station at about 9:15.

I would have taken a taxi, but I think it was actually faster to go by subte at that hour. Also, I only had two hundred peso bills and didn't want to chance a taxi with a large bill.

I was able to get change in the cafeteria at school and had a medialuna with ham and cheese (which was quite strange because the medialuna was sweet), and a cafe con leche.

I went upstairs and Nancy motioned for me to go to the classroom she was entering. I went in and the two of us sat and eventually Ignacio came in and wrote some information on the board. He then looked at us and told us we were in the wrong room. Martin had told Nancy we'd be in room 301, which is where we were, but in fact, we were supposed to be in room 307.

When we got to 307, students were there and had already begun their exam. This was the 2nd time I arrived late even though I was at school on time!

The exam was about sources of alternative energy, specifically bio-fuels like ethanol and cane. It had nothing (really) to do with global warming, so I watched an Inconvenient Truth for nothing. Fortunately, the article was easy to understand.

There were two vocabulary from context questions, where we had to guess the meaning of two words that were very new for us. I really liked that exercise. There were some true false and then some comprehension questions. For the true/false, we had to justify our answers. I also liked that part.

Then came the hard parts. The stupid grammar!

The first grammar exercise was fill in the blank. There was a paragraph with words missing and we had to choose from a list to complete it. It was very difficult and I know this is where I made the most mistakes.

The 2nd grammar part was rewriting incorrect sentences to correct them. This wasn't so bad but I might have messed up a little here too.

In the last part we had to write, choosing either to respond to the ideas in the article or about one of the readings that we read in class. I wrote about the article and how we need to find alternative energy sources, but also reduce our consumption. It wasn't that hard.

I got 90 points on the written part of the exam. So did Nancy. Cynthia got 63 or something like that. She said her writing was bad.

Then we had a 2 hour break until we had to return for the oral exam. Ugh.

Nancy took me to the office of GIC, the program I signed up with that charged me the twice the amount that Anna paid (she registered independently). GIC offered some other activities, but I didn't take part because they were for the young kids mostly.

I had to return my cell phone and get my deposit, but the woman who had the money was not there.

So Nancy and I went to the cafe with good coffee and I had a hot pastrami sandwich. I wanted to go there to get these jars of coffee beans covered with yogurt and chocolate as gifts for my teachers to thank them for putting up with me. I got some yesterday for the guys in the little office with the big window (I guess it's the registrar's office) and they really appreciated them. They put each jar in a nice little bag and it looked like a nice token of my appreciation.

The pastrami was good, by the way.

Then we returned to school and had our oral interview.

They had the three of us - Nancy, Cynthia and I, sit together and the interviewer asked us first to introduce ourselves. Then she showed us some pictures and had us talk about them. The first was some sort of fruit stand in some tropical country, and the 2nd was a very polluted river. She then asked us some questions about immigration. It was an odd way to take an exam and I wondered if I should have spoken more than I did (because Cynthia and Nancy spoke a lot).

Then we had to wait again until 3 for our results and our certificates.

I went back to GIC and had to wait another 30 minutes for the woman with the cell phone deposits to show up. I got my deposit and went back to school where I ran into Claudia and she invited me to sit with her in the cafeteria, when Marcela joined us and we took this picture.

Finally, at 3 I went upstairs where everyone was waiting in the hall for their results.

After waiting about 30 minutes they posted the results on the wall. Everyone's names were visible as well as their scores. People crowded to see how they did, as well as how their classmates did. It was a very odd way to announce grades.

I got a 92 on my oral interview (Nancy got 93), so my total score for the semester was 91, Nancy's was 92. I didn't notice what Cynthia's was.

Come to think of it, Marcela told me this morning that class participation and homework also counted towards our grade, but I didn't see that reflected in our scores unless it was already figured in.

Well, I was satisfied. I do think I learned some things, but think my score is more a reflection of my cumulative knowledge of Spanish than what I actually learned in this school. The fact that the Chinese students in general were not passing, tells me the teaching is not that good. Those of us who did well, already had a strong base of Spanish and maybe were already at the level (or beyond).

I walked home in a sort of zig-zag through the city, snapping photos and stopping for a few empanadas on the way. I tried to enter the court building, but guard told me I couldn't (even though if I had just walked in, he wouldn't have noticed - I made the mistake of asking him if I could enter). Then I found an interesting looking synagogue and took a picture. I saw that they had these copper plates on the gate and crossed the street and took a photo of them. A guard came out of a booth and told me I couldn't take pictures. What the f%#@! I can understand security, but why can't I take a photo of a building? He told me there was a museum that was open on Tuesdays. That wasn't any help to me. I asked him what the plates were, and he said the 12 tribes of Israel. It was very interesting, but I was pissed that I got shooed away.

I stopped in the museum of the Theater Cervantes and there were lots of photos of actors and tributes to the theater in general, but the theater itself was closed for renovation.

Eventually I made my way home because it was a bit chilly out today (after the summer-like weather yesterday) and I needed to pee.

I'm having dinner with Hernan tonight, perhaps the last time I'll see him. We're going to a Spanish restaurant. I'm not going to consider any fantasies of long-distance relationships and actually we're really just friends. I hope we will keep in touch, but I know from past experience that is very unlikely. It was fun while it lasted, but like the weather, things change and people come and go.

I'm going to take a nap now to get rested up for this evening. It was a very stressful day with the testing and the waiting. Now, this school crap is officially over and done with.

Tanghetto

This was in my inbox this morning. I really should be getting ready to go to school for my final exam, but I thought I'd post this while drinking my tea. The song is "Mente Fragil" - fragile mind. I guess Tanghetto is an electronic tango group. Well, now I just checked the e-mail I got and it says the band is Mente Fragil, and the song is "Emigrante" - oh, I'm confused, but I think they are probably wrong based on what's on You Tube. It doesn't matter really, what's in the name of a song or a group? The video is cute - check it out!

An Inconvenient Truth and fish...

In spite of the deliciously warm weather (is it global warming?) and my desire to go out and enjoy it, I spent the evening in with fish and Al Gore.

The fish turned out great, but it turned out I bought too much. I don't know what a kilo is, but it sounded like a lot, so I got a half kilo of fish. I made two packets and put mushrooms, green onions, garlic, ginger, white wine, carrots, potatoes, basil and red peppers. I sealed them up and baked them for 40 minutes, which might have been too much, but I think the oven was too hot. Anyway, the fish was delicious. The flavors blended really well and the vegetables were cooked just right.

I had a small salad with broccoli, red peppers, carrots and green onions with a dressing of lime juice and olive oil. It was really refreshing and the whole dinner seemed so healthy. I had a pear for desert.

Well, now I know where to buy fish in Buenos Aires. For anyone who might be looking, there is a fish store on Rodriguez Pena between Arenales and Juncal, across the street from El Mercado.

While I ate, I watched "An Inconvenient Truth". I know, I never saw it...

Now I really don't understand how almost 50% of the voting public voted for Bush. I sat and watched Gore do this amazing presentation, which I know he's done a bunch of times, but it was so well done, so articulate, so intelligent, and then I imagined Dubya saying things like "I'm the decider, I decide, hehehe...". He can't even string one sentence together if it hasn't been scripted for him, and even if it's scripted, he needs someone talking in his ear to tell him what to say. It's like a choice between Elmer Fudd and Gandhi. But, back to the theme of "how could it happen?", when people are getting their information from Fox News and Bill O'Reilly, their world view is very different, and they actually believed, and some still do, that Bush was the better candidate, or at least he'd be more fun to have a beer with (now that is just plain stupidity).

I didn't see this movie before because someone told me it was depressing, that Gore doesn't offer any solutions. Well, actually he offers quite a few solutions. The related website, climatecrisis.net, has some ideas for anyone looking for a way to make a difference. I've already taken some actions after watching Oprah's Earth Day special, but I'm sure there's more I can do.

One of my favorite things, beyond sensible things like recycling, using those new lightbulbs, being energy efficient, etc., is buying trees. You can buy trees, for only $1.00 each, and have them planted in places that really need them, like New Orleans, by going to American Forests.org

Hey, since I'm plugging websites here that have nothing to do with Argentina, well, actually everything has to do with Argentina because they are being affected by climate change as much as anyone, the glaciers in Patagonia are melting too, and they are not contributing as much to the problem as we are...but one of my favorite websites for people wanting to do something is Kiva.org - you can make microloans to people in the developing world to help them get out of poverty. It's a great way to help others directly, and be able to see the results of your help through their online journals. When the loan is paid back, you can reinvest it in someone else, or you can just take your money back.

I really do hope that people will wake up.

Here's the video of Melissa Etheridge singing the song from the movie (for which she won an Oscar).

I found fish!

Today's photo is a paseaperros - dogwalker. They have to be one of my favorite sites in Buenos Aires. There are a few that I've seen several times and recognize. Hernan says they are very "conchetto" - meaning, kind of uppity. Apparently, they need to be almost certified as veterinarians because they are responsible for all aspects of dog care. It's great to see these dogs walking together as a group wagging their tails and smiling and obeying the lead of the dog walker. Unfortunately, they leave behind lots of little remnants on the sidewalks, so you need to pay attention when you are walking!

I left today wearing my leather jacket because we are experiencing a new wave of polar air, but it seemed a little warm, so I came up and changed. Good thing I did. Coming home from school today it felt like early summer. Warm and sunny. Crazy weather!

I walked to Florida Street first because I saw an "Argentina" jacket that I liked and wanted to see about it. On the way, I passed this big old ornate building that says "Circular Militar" on it and has an arms museum. The gate was open and I saw some people coming out, so I thought I'd take a peek inside, assuming it was open to the public - ironically, they had a sign up saying "Palacio de la Paz" - palace of peace. I noticed a sign saying they had tours, but I just wanted to peek inside and didn't want a full tour. I walked through the big ornate gates and into the courtyard. I saw another interesting building on the other side of the courtyard and was going to take a picture when some old fart started yelling at me. He called me over and told me it was a private club and I wasn't allowed inside. He said that there were tours and I had to come on a tour and could not visit on my own. I wondered if he was involved in the last military dictatorship - he probably was involved in more than one, he was old enough to have served under Peron.

So, disheartened, I left, thinking I might go back for one of the tours, but it looks like that probably won't happen since I need to go to the spa on Saturday instead.

I went to Florida Street and the jacket was of very low quality and didn't really fit well, so I walked to the subte from there. I figured rather than getting on at my station, I'd walk a bit and take linea D which would take me straight to where I needed to go.

The subte is always an experience. You never know what will happen.

There are people here who are ingenious at finding ways to make money. Often when sitting in a restaurant, someone will come in and put something on my table, as they will do to everyone else in the restaurant. Often it is something like a little manicure set, a flash light, a switchblade (well, not exactly, but that's what they look like to me). Then they'll come back and pick them up - without ever having said a word.

Well, the same thing happens on the subte. It's incredible. Between one stop and the next, which isn't a whole lot of time, someone will go through the car, and distribute something - usually it's a book -the two favorite items seem to be a personal diary type thing and a Spanish-English picture dictionary. They'll just come and sit it on your lap, and then go back through and pick them up. Again, not saying a word. If someone wants one, they'll ask how much and pay for it, but otherwise there is no communication.

Well, today, when I got on, the car was almost empty, which is rare, but since it was early, yet past rush hour, and I was getting on at the 2nd stop of the line, it made sense. I got a seat and at the next stop a guy rushed on and set up an amplifier right in front of me, plugged in his guitar and made an announcement. I don't know what he said. He then started to play a song that was kind of a modernized classical guitar piece. I didn't like it a whole lot. He finished his song and then applauded, and was able to get a few people in the subte, which was now full, to clap. The next song he played, I recognized. I've heard it in tango performances. I think it Grace Jones had a version, and now it is a popular electronic tango piece, but I don't know the name. I like other versions I've heard better than what this guy was playing.

I got off at my station and the guy continued playing. I guess the idea was that you were to leave some money with him if you wanted. It was a nice little performance.

As I went up the stairs to the street the guy in front of me turned around and asked me where Callao Avenue was. I thought we were on it, but someone who passed us turned around and pointed to where it was. This is another funny experience for me. Because I kind of blend in, people are always asking me for directions. But twice, when I hesitated, someone who was nearby just chimed in and gave proper directions. I should just tell people I'm not from here, but I really enjoy the interactions and really do want to be helpful, but honestly, when people ask me for directions, I usually have no idea and probably would be more helpful if I told them I didn't know.

I went to the cafe with the good coffee even though they gave me a fake coin the other day and pulled out my practice exam. I thought of what a good student I was, preparing to sit down and do this exam, even though I wasn't sure if we were going to correct it today or not.

The first part of the exam was an interview with some feminist, which didn't have any context, just the interview. I read it and it wasn't terribly difficult to understand and did the questions that followed. It wasn't that hard, but it took some time.

Next was some grammar. Using sentences that were related to the reading, we had to rewrite them using connector words that they gave us. Again, it was a little challenging, but it was do-able.

The third part was a paragraph which was totally out of context and made no sense at all to me. We had to re-write it changing it to reported speech beginning with "a neighbor said..." I was completely lost as to what to do. I thought reported speech was level 6 and here we were going to be tested on it? We hadn't done anything with it, to the best of my memory. I started doing the re-writing, but got frustrated and moved on.

The next exercise was a fill in the blank exercise. We had to complete a reading by filling it in with words from a list of prepositions and connectors that we were given. Again, I was lost. I tried and wasn't able to get one word. It was total nonsense for me.

The last part was a writing activity. We had a question about men and women's roles in our country, or we could write about any of the readings we had done in class.

I decided to write about my experiences as a language teacher who became a language student and is living in a foreign culture trying to learn the language. I talked about my frustrations, and how at times I felt deaf, dumb and blind. I talked about how the teachers made me feel like the problem was that I wasn't trying hard enough or paying attention enough when I was listening. I talked about how I wanted to communicate more, needed more time to process and wanted more practice.

I left the cafe and went to a pizza/empanada restaurant. It was a great place with booths, lots of tables ,waiters with bowties, and I got two slices of pizza and a salad where I got to choose the ingredients. It was a great lunch, and I wish I had discovered this place sooner.

When I got to school Nancy and Martin were already talking. I started off by saying I didn't understand the mock (that's what they call the practice or mock test). I think Martin made some comment such as "it wasn't that difficult", which pissed me off. I don't remember the exact order of events, but I know that I tried to express how the exam made me feel and Martin denied my feelings to the point that I became very forceful and direct. Eventually he got it and just shut up and tried to clarify things that weren't clear.

I was really angry that we were going to be tested on things that we were not studying. It didn't seem fair to me, and Martin's claim that we did it in level 6 didn't satisfy me.

I tried to point out how the lack of clear context, or how the overwhelming amount of information we got in the form of lists of connectors, was not helping me to learn the language. I tried to point out that learning a language is different from studying science or some other subject. Fortunately Nancy backed me up.

It was a hard class for me, but I am not surprised that what happened today did. Martin has been getting on my nerves from the first day and he became the target of all of my frustrations about the crappy foreign language instructions I've received since high school Spanish class -- my Italian teacher this past semester who spent more time talking to us in English about whatever subject came to (his) mind, and all of the other teachers whose classes frustrated me and made me more reluctant to speak a foreign language rather than encouraging me. I hope that I will remember this experience and learn from it and catch myself when I say things to my students such as "no, it's not difficult - it's easy" when they tell me something is difficult. I hope I will remember how frustrating it was for me to have a teacher who could not understand why something he thought was so clear would be difficult for me.

I got through this last class - barely. I was relieved to leave school and find that it was like summer outside.

I decided to walk down another street I had never walked down and ended up in Once, the area where our school is located, but which at its heart has lots of little shops selling cheap beads, fabric, costumes, party supplies, and a whole bunch of other crap. I walked past a store that was selling Indian cushion covers. I just had to go in.

They had a huge selection of cushion covers in all designs and colors. I wanted them all, but settled on two. I told the guy in the shop "what a world, where I come to Argentina and buy something from India" - I guess it's not really that odd, but it did seem odd to me at the time. He asked me where I was from, and I asked him - even though it was obvious he was from India. All of this was in Spanish. He told me he learned to speak Spanish just by talking to people. Maybe that it what I need to do.

I then asked him about Indian food in Buenos Aires and he recommended four restaurants - one of them, Bengal, is a block away from here. It looks like a fancy restaurant, but I think it might be nice to go there for one of my final dinners - maybe tomorrow with Hernan.

I took as many new streets as I could to come home, now carrying my cushion covers (with cushions inside). I really enjoyed the walk and it was a nice relief after a stressful class.

I found myself suddenly at a Volta ice cream store that had some nice chairs set up outside. I knew that if I came straight home I'd want to take a nap, so I stopped at Volta instead and got an ice cream and sat outside and ate it. It was a nice pit stop and aside from a little exhaust fumes, it wasn't that bad of a spot.

I was in the heart of the Recoleta, which I must say, is one of my favorite parts of Buenos Aires. Even though it might be seen as being snooty and uppity, the buildings are beautiful and I always seem to be there when there is the most amazing light.

As I walked home from Volta, I found myself on Rodriguez Pena again and passed by the Mercado where I was looking for fish yesterday. To my surprise, I looked across the street from the stand where I bought basil, and saw a seafood shop! I had found it - probably one of the few fish stores in Buenos Aires!

Since I had my heart set on making papelote, I went in and got some fish. I have no idea what I got. I only know the names of two fish in Spanish - trout and salmon. This was neither one of those, but looks like a nice white fish that I think will be good. We shall see.

Claudia told us we should review vocabulary related to Global Warming and the environment for our exam tomorrow, so I'm guessing that is going to be the theme. After dinner, I'm going to see if I can find "An Inconvenient Truth" and watch it tonight. I'm surprised at how much I care about my grade on this exam. All I need to do is pass in order to get the credit, which is what is most important to me, but I want to get at least a B in the class.

So it looks like my evening is going to be making dinner and watching a movie to prepare for tomorrow's exam, even thought it is a beautiful evening and I'd love to go out for a walk.

I'm feeling better...knock on wood

I think I finally nailed that cold/flu/bronchitis, or whatever it was that had been dogging me for the past month. I remember it was the day of my final exam in level 6 that I really started feeling sick, and that was one month ago. Now that I'm feeling better I'm walking again, and have begun taking different routes home each day. I'm amazed at how much of the city there is still for me to see. It's lucky that I live kind of far from school and therefore have a reason to walk and explore.

I had pasta yesterday for lunch and dinner. On Tuesday, at Punta Cuore, I had Patagonian lamb, but it was really meaty tasting and too much for me. It came with a side of potatoes and sweet potatoes. It just amazes me that vegetables are so hard to find. And so is fish!

After school on Tuesday, I walked past a Disco and decided to go in and see if I could find some fish. I wanted to make my own papelote like Hernan made the other night. First I came across coconut milk, and then got the idea to make a kind of Thai style fish and put coconut milk, lime, maybe some chile, in the package and put the fish in the oven.

In the produce section I was looking for cilantro, but didn't find any, instead, I found something I thought might be limes and also found some broccoli. I got the limes, broccoli, ginger and some green onions and then set out to look for fish. There was no seafood section in Disco. This is a country that has an enormous coastline, yet there was no seafood section in the supermarket. Instead in the meat section (which was enormous) there were all sorts of disgusting looking things like stomachs, intestines, etc.

I wanted to just put everything in my basket back, but decided to forge on, thinking I'd find a fish market. No luck.

So I came home and put everything in the refrigerator and had a bowl of lentils.

Yesterday on the way home I decided to walk down a street called Rodriguez Pena, which runs through the Recoleta. On the way to Larry's once, I walked past a place called "El Mercado" which looked like it was an old market that had been renovated. This section of Rodriquez Pena is really nice. I found a produce stand that had basil, which I bought. And then walked down another street that was lined with shops, thinking I'd find a fish store. No luck. Instead, I found another supermarket called "Norte" and went inside. I bought aluminum foil and mushrooms. There was no fish, but more meat products than you could imagine.

I found myself feeling very frustrated by my inability to do simple things, like find fish, or even aluminum foil. I had to walk up and down every aisle in the supermarket to find the aluminum foil, which they didn't seem to have at Disco.

Well, now I had everything I needed to make a delicious papelote, except for the fish. I continued on my way home through the ritzy Recoleta passing all kinds of shops, but there were no fish stores (there were a few butchers and one chicken place).

I finally came to the pasta shop where I bought salmon ravioli before, and decided I would make that instead -it was kind of fish.

So, I made a sauce with coconut milk, ginger, green onions, mushrooms, some white wine and chili flakes - I added some cream and put it over the smoked salmon ravioli. It turned out delicious!

I would have never thought to put coconut milk on pasta, but I was desperate. I had that and a glass of wine, and even though I had broccoli and the fixings for a salad, I was too lazy to make everything.

I went out for a walk down Florida street. It was a beautiful evening and the air was moist and not cold (though not warm either). I don't know if the wave of polar air has arrived and gone, or if we're still experiencing it and I'm not feeling it.

When I got back, I cooked some of the broccoli and made a salad with broccoli, carrots, mushrooms, green onions and lime juice and olive oil. It was so much healthier than my evening Freddo, though not as much fun. I watched a little TV and went to bed at a decent hour.

In my few remaining days there is not a whole lot that I feel like I need to do, but there are some things I would like to do. I'd like to return to El Sanjuanino one more time, and have dinner with Larry and John. Of course, I want to have dinner with Hernan and told him I'd take him out if he chose the place. I would like to return to the spa one more time - since I could never afford a spa at home, I might as well take advantage of it. And that's about it. I will definitely be back, so all of the things that I could have done but didn't will still be here.

The dollar is gaining strength against the peso, which is weakening because of low prices of soy, one of Argentina's major exports. On Tuesday it was 3.15 to the dollar, and yesterday was 3.20. It seems like a free fall and I wonder if there will be a panic. It doesn't mean a whole lot for me - for every hundred dollars I get an extra 15 pesos, which is enough for a lunch in a cheap restaurant, but this could signal some instability in the economy and may have other effects on the people here.

So, all of this is to say that I am feeling better. I had some vegetables yesterday and can't wait to get home and buy some fish and try to make my papelote Thai style, where I can go to the supermarket and know exactly where to find things!

I can't think of a title for today's blog...

Well, I am into the final countdown here. Only two more days of school - one a class with Martin, that I'd really like to skip, and the other our exam this Friday, which I'd also like to skip, but since I am taking classes to move up in salary (we teachers have to do everything we can to increase our salary), I probably will do both of these things. Bite the bullet, as they say.

I'm going to skip all of the details about lunch and how I got to school (even though a lot of people have mentioned they like knowing what I eat), and go straight to class.

It was an interesting class, even though I felt that a good teacher would have been able to take advantage of our desire to discuss today's topics.

Today was Daniel's turn to do something for us. He is studying Economics at the University of Chicago (why would someone study Economics?), so his theme that he was going to present was economics, and more specifically, what led up to the crash in 2001 here.

It was interesting and goes back to the last dictatorship (I've learned that people refer to it as the last one, because there have been others), and their mismanagement of the country, pocketing money for themselves, and also their neoliberal policies of free trade, which effectively eliminated much of Argentine industry.

There was a brief period of hyperinflation, which according to Claudia happened in a matter of minutes. She said her brother was going to make a deposit in the bank and picked up a sum of money somewhere (I didn't get that part) and that by the time he got to the bank, three blocks away, his money had been devalued. She said her roommate told her when she got home from school that day, that they couldn't even afford to buy chicken, and they both started to cry.

It was at that point that I asked if Kafka is popular here, because so many of these things seem to be taken straight out of a Kafka novel.

Anyway, the final nail in the coffin happened when Menem, the last president (well, sort of) pegged the peso to the dollar 1:1. It was valued falsely, but Argentines enjoyed a very high standard of living during those times, they could travel and Argentina was the most expensive place in South America to visit.

But the bottom fell out and the peso crashed. People started withdrawing money from the banks, but eventually the government put a stop to that, and no one could get their money. For many people, the money just disappeared and they lost everything they had in their savings.

It was all a very interesting topic, except that it was hard to tell where Daniel was coming from. It seemed to me like he was actually promoting the idea of free trade and neoliberalism and was implying that if there weren't any interference from the governments involved, that neoliberalism would bring prosperity. I asked him if there were any example of any country where neoliberalism brought prosperity, and he gave me a roundabout answer, that involved something about corporations having to pay taxes and governments taking their holdings. I mentioned that the "neoliberals" seem perfectly happy going to a country and taking land, water and other resources from other people, especially the poor and defenseless.

We ended up on this discussion topic for almost a full hour and half, and then we took our break. After our break, Claudia gave us our practice exam and we were going to do it in class, but Cynthia suggested we do it for homework. I then said I had some questions about Argentina.

Claudia went on a little tirade about how she tries to do things with us and we always make her go in another direction, which is completely not true, but in the Freirian view of education, would actually be what she should be doing. Then Daniel asked a question about mandatory education, which I thought was totally boring compared to the question I wanted to ask. I waited until that theme was exhausted and then I asked my question.

Why is it that in restaurants, there are never enough menus? If I go alone, I don't get a menu at all. If I go with another person, they bring one. If I go with four people they will bring three. Claudia said she had never experienced this because she doesn't go to restaurants alone (which was missing the point), but eventually she said that she thought it was an economic factor - that menus cost a lot to print and they are always changing them, and therefore there are not enough menus. I don't know if that is the real reason, but it was a satisfactory answer (of course, the solution would be to make cheaper menus and not these big fancy things that they have, but they are still trying to live like they did when they were living with the fantasy peso).

Related to that, I asked why there was no change. Claudia said that she was so surprised when she went to Europe the first time and they had change! It turns out that there has been no change here for so long, they think it's normal not to have change in stores! I just picked up my laundry and it cost 12.40 - I gave the woman 14 pesos, and guess what - no change! I then gave her 13 pesos and she was able to give me 60 centavos change. Very strange for businesses not to have change. Claudia said it was because the government doesn't print enough money (I think), but it was interesting to me that menus and change are somehow related.

Claudia then asked us some questions about the US and said that from the outside, people really wonder what is going on. For example, it appeared that there was no one in charge when Hurricane Katrina hit. She did not understand how that could happen that a government could not help its own people. Daniel said that was a mistake and it was embarrassing for us, but Nancy explained better that it was because the National Guard was in Iraq because there aren't enough soldiers and they were therefore unable to send them to New Orleans.

Claudia then mentioned that from the outside it seems highly possible that the attacks on September 11 were not caused by some outside source, but were in fact engineered from the inside. I know people are very skeptical of conspiracy theories, and I don't like to go there (even though I am more skeptical of the official story), but it is interesting that the view from abroad seems to suggest more that it was an inside job. We (well not me) just take it for granted that it was Al Qaeda and that the towers fell because of the airplanes, but in fact, there are a lot of people who are saying otherwise and apparently, outside of the US, those voices are being heard more clearly.

It was very interesting to see Claudia challenging Daniel especially, who is young and I imagine, from the things he said, is rather conservative and not very well informed.

What I realized from the discussion was that my questions about how a military government could have taken over here, how people were disappearing, the country was driven into ruin, and no one seemed to know what was going on or was able to stop it, is actually very similar to our situation in the US. With limited information, we are not getting the full story of what is happening in Afghanistan and Iraq, what happened on September 11, who is profiting from the war, and who is really running our government. People are more concerned about Paris Hilton or Brangelina than our staggering national debt. We could very well see our own economic crisis or see something resembling a dictatorship take over (remember McCarthy?), but people are so distracted, no one is paying attention. Having people ask me, "How could that happen?" is really good, because it is answering the same question I am asking here - "How could that happen?" When the question is posed to me about how such and such could happen in my own country, I understand better, how certain things were able to happen here.

When people are distracted, anything can happen.

I got a nice comment from someone named Kat - thanks Kat for reading my blog. I hope you have as much fun when you come here as I have had. In spite of my complaints about menus and no change, it really is a great place to visit and the menu and change shortage just add to the experience!

If you don't understand, just pay more attention...

The sage advice I got from my teacher, Martin, today, when I told him I didn't understand the video he had us watch, was that I had to watch it again and pay more attention. Now, even if I were watching a video in English and a teacher told me that, I'd think it was bad teaching, but here was someone telling me that all I needed to do to understand a foreign language was to pay more attention!?!!

I was kind of dreading Martin's class today. Last time I had class with him, I played hookey and went to see the Madres in the Plaza de Mayo. I did see him yesterday and he seemed a little humble compared to last Thursday. He was in the little office with the big open window where the clerks sit and he came out and kissed me when he saw me. He asked about my health and said I looked better. I'm guessing that Claudia told him I told her that he kept calling on me and I didn't know why, but who knows. He did mention the fact that Nancy and I slipped out and when I told him we went to see the Madres, he didn't seem to think that was a valid excuse. But hey, I'm paying for these classes, I have every right to miss a class if I want to.

So today, he told us we were going to go to the Multimedia (computer lab) to do some listening comprehension. Uh oh. Every time he has brought us there, it spelled trouble. We watched weird tango videos and a strange student film. What were we going to do today?

First he had us listen to a speech given by Eduardo Galeano, an Uruguayan writer, at a conference in Italy. It was clear, interesting and easy to follow. What happened? Was Martin beginning to understand what our level was?

It was a very good speech in which he talked about the hypocrisy of the existence of the UN, when it is actually the Security Council that has all of the power, and only 5 countries belong - these 5 - UK, US, France, China and Russia, are the 5 biggest arms producers in the world and are supposedly in charge of maintaining world peace. He also talked about the World Bank, the IMF and other international organizations that are really in charge of things.

Once we finished that, we had to listen to part of a documentary on anarchist music (punk) in Venezuela. I understood nothing. I listened again. I understood very little. Martin came over and I told him it was difficult. I was falling asleep. He told me that I was in level 7 and should be able to understand this. He said, "just pay attention more". Oh, it's that easy! Here I was struggling with understanding this video and the secret was right there - I just had to pay attention more!

I told him I was paying attention. He suggested writing down the words I hear and trying to figure out the meaning from that. I told him the problem was that I couldn't hear words. He told me everyone else understood. Implying that therefore, the problem was with me. I was really pissed off (once again).

He walked away and I tried listening again. I wrote down words when I heard words, and what I wrote made no sense because I'd hear a random word every now and then.

I looked over at Daniel, who was sitting next to me and his head was bobbing up and down as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

Martin told us we could take a break and I asked the others if they understood. Everyone said it was difficult and they didn't understand anything. I told them all to tell Martin, because he thought it was just me.

In class, we had an interesting discussion about the Galeano video. Cynthia did not agree with him and said that there are strong countries and there are weak countries and it will always be that way. She said that when there is democracy, people criticize and Galeano was not offering any solutions, just criticizing. I just loved that - the solution, is to impose total control, like in China, and then people won't criticize and the strong will be able to dominate the weak!

I told her that his point was to point out the hypocrisy of the UN, and the "free media" which doesn't really report what is happening and who is in control and how money is being made from arms sales. It really could have been an interesting discussion, but Martin had to tell us what he thought and he effectively put a damper on our enthusiasm to talk. It was the perfect topic for a discussion because we all understood what he was saying and there was a difference of opinion and everyone had one. But, Martin blew it.

When we got to the anarchist video, everyone fessed up that they didn't understand. Martin did not blame us like he did me in the computer room. I think he got it.

When he was telling us about the exam, he told us to write as much as we could on the writing section. I told him we do what we can do, meaning that if we could do more we could. He responded that we shouldn't be lazy.

I really can't stand this guy anymore. I think he doesn't know how to teach language and is so caught up in being a revolutionary/intellectual, that he comes off as being insulting and pompous. Thank god we only have one more class with him.

Evita

I found two videos on You Tube that I'm posting. One is Madonna singing "Don't Cry for me Argentina" from the movie "Evita". I heard that Patti LuPone, who played the role of Evita on Broadway, said Madonna sucked. Bitch!



The other video is a tango called, "Santa del Pueblo - Evita Peron" - Saint of the People - Evita Peron - for many, Evita is considered a saint, along with Carlos Gardel - mostly because of their tragic deaths at a young age. I doubt that the Catholic church will be canonizing this former prostitute however.

Dinner with Hernan

I had a great evening. Hernan invited me over for dinner and cooked an amazing dinner for me. I had a better meal and a better time at his place eating this home cooked meal than I have at any of the restaurants I’ve been to – cheap, funky or fancy.

I took a taxi over and on the way sent him a text “pray that I arrive alive” – the taxi driver was crazy and reminded me of the drivers we had in Korea last summer. Several times he had to come to a sudden stop and at one point, I thought a bus was going to run right over us as it squeezed into our lane. I miraculously arrived in one piece.

I brought some bread and two apple tarts I bought yesterday at the café/bakery near Marcelo’s apartment – the place with the loud people who reminded me of the Sopranos. Every time I walk by there, the place is full and it seems like people are talking from one table to the next instead of the intimate, direct stare kind of conversations that happen in most cafes here. But this place has an amazing display of cakes and breads and things, so I went in after my tango class and got some rolls (they didn’t have loaves) and some apple tarts, thinking Hernan would come over yesterday for lentils, but he had to go to his his brother’s birthday party.

We started off with peach daiquiris and the bread with cream. They have this cream here that is very thick – they use it for pasta sauces. Hernan mixed it with some Thai red curry and we ate it with the warmed up bread. It was delicious. Then we switched to white wine and had fish. He cooked it ‘a la papelote’, well, actually, I’m not sure if that is the right word. He put it in foil packages in the oven with green olives, scallions, potatoes, green pepper, white wine and a sprinkle of curry powder and sesame oil. It was so delicious. The thing I loved about it was the way the flavors blended, but still retained pockets of their own dominance. Every now and then I’d get a taste of the curry, or the scallion, or the sesame oil. Also the fish was really hot as we ate it, it was juicy, and delicious and fresh. It was a really healthy and hearty home-cooked meal.

We were all set to watch a DVD he rented, but for some reason the DVD wouldn’t play. The same thing happened to me with a DVD here. I rented “Walk the Line” when I stayed home from school sick one day, but it wouldn’t play. I had to return it without ever watching it. So instead, he turned on the Turner Classic Movie channel and we watched some movie with a very young Robert Mitchum and Janet Leigh. It was dubbed in Spanish, and I had a hard time following it. Every now and then Hernan would translate something for me, but it was usually something I was able to hear clearly and already understood. It was the usual boy meets girl story, but in this case the girl was already with a guy and she met another guy who was working as a clerk in a department store and things got tricky. I thought Janet Leigh was a bit of a slut.

We were watching on his computer monitor, which is pretty big, but the bottom of the picture got cut off. One of the prominent characters in the film was Janet Leigh’s son, Timmy. But because he was often at the bottom of the screen and the adults were standing and talking to him, he got cut off and we couldn’t see him. So they’d be standing there talking and you’d hear this voice, but you couldn’t see where it was coming from. Sometimes it looked like they were talking to a chair or the clock on the table. It was very funny. It was quite a strange movie and I’d like to see it in English to see if it was strange because we were watching it in Spanish and were a little toasted, and couldn't always see Timmy when we heard his voice, or because it really was strange.

I took a taxi most of the way home, but because it was a nice evening and I wanted to walk some, I walked part of the way. I had to wait a while for a taxi, which is not something I remember having to do much on a clear night like tonight (when it's raining it is more difficult). When a taxi finally came, and I saw it wasn’t a radio taxi, I hesitated. Everyone has warned not to take taxis that are not radio taxis.

Today at school I pulled out some change to pay for my tea in the cafeteria and I saw that I had this large 10 centavo coin. It was odd, because the 10 centavo coins are very small. This one was identical in size and color to the 50 centavo coin. I showed it to Claudia and she said it was “trucho” – no good. I didn’t understand what she meant, but it turned out that today at lunch when they gave me my change, they gave me a stack of 50 centavo coins to add up to the three pesos they owed me, but one of them was this 10 centavo coin that wasn’t worth anything because it was an old coin. So, they cheated me out of, about 17 cents. I thought it was funny that this happened in a very nice place that I’ve been to several times and they should recognize me. Claudia made me give the coin to her and she gave me a 50 centavo coin, and said she didn’t like to see when people get bad money, but I thought I should just go back to the cafe and leave the coin as a tip for the waitress who gave it to me. Two can play that game!

So, as I got in this taxi, I thought about my earlier very traumatic rip-off experience where I was slipped a phony coin. “But what could this guy do?”, I thought…

I told him I wanted to go to Callao and Santa Fe, being careful to make my pronunciation as authentic as I could, so that he wouldn’t detect I was a helpless foreigner with lots of cash. As we drove down Santa Fe which was still buzzing with the remnants of late night activity, he asked me if I was visiting. I told him yes, and figured since I was busted, I’d add, “it’s a beautiful city”. Then I realized, maybe he was asking me if I was visiting a friend, and not asking me if I was visiting the city. He then said something I didn’t understand, but I thought he said something about getting robbed. Sill, I felt no threat. Maybe because I was kind of numb from the dinner, wine and daiquiri.

I noticed that there was no identification visible in this junky old cab that had nothing on the outside but “taxi” – the doors were otherwise black. “But what could this guy do?” I thought….he greeted me very nicely when I got in the cab and he didn't look dangerous.

I asked him if he was working all night, and he told me he had just a little bit more. He worked a split shift, half afternoon, half night. “Oh”, I said.

As we got close to Callao, I felt relieved that the meter was 7 pesos and some change, so that I could give him exact change and didn’t have to worry about him passing me any phony money as change. I noticed raindrops on his windshield, and said to him, “it’s raining?”, and he went on this long spiel about something that I did not understand at all. I think he was talking about the wave of polar air that is expected to hit.

I handed him 8 pesos, the meter was at 7.80. He told me to have a good night and I got out. Nothing happened. I had no reason to worry. It wasn’t raining, but the air was thick, wet and slightly warm.

I walked down Santa Fe which was pretty deserted and the traffic was fairly calm. The cafés that were open had some people in them, but they were not full. Shop windows had the gates down, but were still lit up showing off the clothes, shoes and other goods they had for sale. People stood in line waiting for buses, which were the only form of public transportation still running. I wondered who these people were, many of whom seemed to be returning from work at midnight.

I looked up at the many beautiful buildings that line Santa Fe, big, old apartment buildings. It is one of my favorite streets, especially at night, I thought.

I noticed people sweeping the sidewalks and the streets, and also saw the garbage collectors picking up bags of garbage on the curbs. At some points, I passed bags of garbage that had been torn open by the “cartaleros” - people who come out as soon as the sun sets and start ripping open bags of garbage looking for cardboard or anything else they can sell. Apparently there are trains full of these people heading to recycling centers. Behind the mess that the cartaleros made, were street sweepers, who looked like they were employed by the city. It was amazing to see all of this trash all over the streets, at one point and entire sidewalk for half a block was covered with litter, and know that in the morning, it would all be gone. Every night, the streets are filled with litter and by morning they are clean. I remembered a thought I had before, somewhere, where I noticed people all fulfilling their role in this intricate web of life – everyone has a role.

It was amazingly warm for an evening when another polar wave is supposed to hit the city with the possibility of freezing rain. Is this the calm before the storm?

As I approached the large face of Jane Fonda telling me I was almost home, I thought about how my feelings about being here have been going on this wild rollercoaster ride lately. Some days I want to just return home, other days I feel bored or neutral, and on days like today, I feel like this is the perfect place for me to be at this moment in time. I really had fun tonight, and am so glad I met Hernan and have been given a little glance behind the tourist curtain to see some of what life in Buenos Aires is really like. I love it when he talks about his family and I try to imagine what they are like, or what it is like in their home. Or like this evening, when he showed me some pictures of his crazy cousin from Corrientes that she left on his computer. It’s a whole other world that I wouldn’t have access to if I were just doing touristy stuff, or just going to school, or just watching TV.

I’m still an outsider looking in, but I’m closer to the in and have a better view. I like what I see. I'm going to miss Buenos Aires, even though I will be happy to be home.

My New Tango Shoes

I bought another pair of tango shoes today.

There are two stores just a few blocks from school that have a bigger selection than the place where I bought my other shoes. I had gone there before, and the one with the shoes I like the best - Neo Tango - was a very unfriendly place. No one greeted me when I went in and the guy behind the counter just stood there and didn't ask me if I needed any help. Well, I guess that could be seen as a good thing, but it seemed unfriendly to me, especially since I had no idea what kind of shoes I needed and they seemed to have shoes with different soles.

Today it turned out to be a nice day and after school I ended up walking past Neo Tango. I saw a pair of shoes in the window that caught my eye, and then I realized that the shape of the shoes are different, and more like regular shoes and less like dorky dance shoes (sorry to all the dancers out there). I decided to go in and have another look.

Since I now have a pair of basic black shoes, I figured I could look at something a little different. I found one pair of two toned shoes that I liked, and then decided on a pair of brown shoes that are leather and suede. They are pretty snazzy and I'm now going to have to get a whole new outfit to be able to wear these shoes, as well as a new haircut, and probably even a whole new body. I tried them on and they fit really well. I'm excited about wearing them to the next queer milonga in San Francisco, or one of the Metronome's same sex latin nights.

I walked to school today as it ended up being warmer than I expected. They were calling for this new wave of polar air, but I guess it hasn't arrived. I went to my new favorite cafe, the one with the good coffee. I had a cafe con leche and one medialuna, and did my homework, even though I didn't understand what I was supposed to be doing. I am just doing everything in our workbooks now, figuring it can't hurt.

I decided to stay in the cafe for lunch because one of the waitresses sat down next to me and was eating a salad that looked really yummy, so I asked for the menu and ordered a salad that was supposed to have spicy chicken in it. The chicken was not spicy at all, but the salad was good.

Class today was confusing and I am finding that I am having a really hard time hiding how I'm really feeling. My face apparently is very expressive, and it is getting me in trouble. Claudia could tell when I was bored, confused or internally criticizing her lesson. This is why Martin kept picking on me last week. As hard as I tried, I couldn't sit there with a straight, unexpressive face.

Our lesson today was on 12 different ways we could use the conditional. It was way too much. It was unclear and confusing and overwhelming. When I told Claudia that my problem was that there were too many options, she said it was so that we would recognize all of these different uses of the conditional when we were reading. I heard myself saying the same things to my students. How many times have I presented them with a bunch of different options on how to say something? Now I know what it feels like from the other side. It's impossible to learn that many things at once.

After our break, Cynthia did a presentation. Guess what she talked about...

She really hadn't prepared anything, because she spoke about her favorite subject - China. She told us that the name China (in Chinese) means center of the world - Claudia said -ethnocentrist, and we all laughed. It was fun though and it was an interesting presentation for the most part, but it was really difficult for me to see a postcard of Tibet when Cynthia was showing us postcards from a packet entitled - "Beautiful China". She also was a little confused on her facts - she said that Hong Kong was a Portuguese colony. I, of course, corrected her.

Hernan is making me dinner tonight. I'm excited about that. I'm going to bring him a nice bottle of wine - one level up from the basic cheap stuff. I really wish I could bring some of this wine home with me. I'll have to see what I can find in Trader Joe's when I get back.

Today's photo is of the Supreme Court building. I walked a different route today and noticed that the two sides of the building were very different. One side is a dingy gray color, and the other side was a brilliant, clean sand color with beautiful orange tiles at the top. You can see the scaffolding where they are cleaning it.

It seems like a lot of buildings are being cleaned now, and on Avenida de Mayo, a lot of renovation and cleaning is happening. As long as the economy and political situation remain stable, I'm guessing that in a few years this city will be cleaner, and even more beautiful than it is now. I'm predicting that Avenida de Mayo will be one of the world's more beautiful avenues in a few years. I think Argentina is once again rising out of the ashes.

Mas Pivot!

A new wave of polar air is heading our way. Today was cold and rainy in the morning and I spent most of the day inside watching dumb TV and taking a nap. I made a pot of lentils, which were really yummy and will sustain me this week. Overall, my last weekend here was pretty dull. I had very little energy and really didn't want to do anything special, mostly because of the cold and my low energy in the wake of whatever illness I had for the past month.

Actually I did want to do a few things, but because of general laziness, I don't think I will. I wanted to see the Evita museum, but am not sure where it is or how to get there, and if I can't walk, I don't want to have to figure out how to get there. I also wanted to see Carlos Gardel's tomb, but really, what is the big deal? Again, it's kind of far and I'd have to take the subway and I'm feeling lazy. The other thing that I really wanted to do was to visit ESMA - the Escuela de Mechanica de la Armda - which I suppose in better times was a Military School, but it turned out to be one of the major detention and torture centers under the last dictatorship.

I know, it seems like a very strange thing to want to do. I refuse to watch movies where random violence occurs, though I did sit through two films about the last dictatorship and saw plenty of violence in the form of torture, rape and eventually murder. To me, there is a difference between violence for entertainment and violence as historical record. I know a lot of people would actually feel comfortable sitting through something like Gangs of New York (which was on today and I had to change the channel because of the violence) and Garage Olimpo, a movie about the abduction and torture of the disappeared under the dictatorship.

I've learned a lot about what happened during that time, even though in general, it's not an open topic of discussion. It's come up a few times in class, and between the two movies I saw, and some reading online, I think I have a clearer picture of what happened.

Basically, the military dictatorship took power after Peron's second wife, Isabelita, who became president after Peron died, made a total mess of the country. The country was already on rocky ground, but under Isabelita, it became worse. The military took power and began a campaign aimed at wiping out a guerrilla movement, and eliminating the communist threat. The triple A, a secret police force that Isabelita herself formed, also took part in the fun and games.

People were picked up for a variety of reasons - teachers, psychiatrists, Jews, students, activists, and others, were targets. According to Claudia, the arrests took place at night when nobody saw, but other sources suggest that there were also some done in plain sight. Women and children were also picked up. Children were either "adopted" by childless military families or sent to orphanages. Pregnant women were kept alive until they gave birth, and their children were given to military families - there are at least 500 known cases of women who were detained while pregnant, and the mothers of the disappeared and a new group, the abuelas (grandmothers) are sponsoring campaigns to recover these children, who are now adults.

Those who were detained were tortured and raped until they were no longer of use. If they died in custody, their bodies were dumped in the ocean or the River Plata from airplanes. If they were still alive, they were drugged, and their bodies were weighed down with concrete and then they were dumped in the river or ocean. All attempts were made to cover up what happened.

When democracy returned to the country, those responsible for the atrocities were pardoned. Only under the current president, Kirchner, has amnesty been reversed and some people are facing trial, though there are not many witnesses left to testify.

One witness is the son of a former prisoner who was released. His father told him what happened, and he identified a priest who was present during his torture. This priest is currently being tried. One of the most horrific things is that the Catholic Church participated in this campaign. This priest was present while people were being tortured, and in general, the church itself did nothing in protest as in other countries such as El Salvador, where members of the church actively opposed the disappearances and torture of civilians.

I've been thinking a lot about those times, which I remember very clearly - the 1980's, when people thought I was crazy for going to a country like Nicaragua. We had Pinochet in Chile, the dictatorship in Argentina, paramilitary forces in El Salvador and Guatemala, as well as dictatorships in Brazil, Paraguay and Uruguay. And that is only in Latin America. What an insane time it was, as the "communist threat" gave governments permission to round up, torture and murder their own citizens. And, US AID was behind so much of the training and equipment that was used to do the killing.

So, my desire to visit ESMA is more out of historical interest than some kind of sick obsession with death. I think it is important that I know, and am able to inform others, what happened here not too long ago, so that it might not happen again. In a world where denial seems to reign, it is so important that we discuss these difficult topics, and we don't let the memory of those whose lives were taken be lost.

But, I never made it. I am not sure if the plans to turn the school into a museum/memorial have been completed and it is open to visitors yet or not, and didn't want to take the risk of taking a taxi all the way out there to a part of the city I do not know to find that I can only see it through a gate, or maybe not see it at all. So, that trip is on hold until the next visit.

In other news, I had a tango lesson today and heard a lot of "mas pivot", but overall the lesson was good, and we really danced a lot. Marcelo threw in a lot of new moves and I was able to follow him well. He was hungover from drinking too much wine last night and he had that smell of someone who drank too much the day before. Still, the class was fun, frustrating at times, and I pretty much decided it was going to be my last class because I just can't take the intensity of it anymore. I also wore my new shoes for the first time and the suede soles really help with the turns. The shoes are a little dorky, but they work for dancing and everyone wears them so I won't be the only dork on the dancefloor. Eventually, I'll figure out an alternative.

I was trying to figure out how to tell Marcelo that it was my last class when he told me he couldn't see me in the morning this week, but was only free after 5. That gave me a perfect out. I told him I was busy because it was the last week of school. So we tentatively have plans to go to the Milonga on Wednesday and maybe have one more class next Saturday, but I don't think that is going to happen. Every time he has said he would get back to me, he hasn't. So, I think I'm done with tango until I get back to San Francisco, and I'm really looking forward to returning to my class there.

Other than that, the weekend was low-key. I took a few walks, did some shopping, but didn't buy anything, and didn't do any homework.