I'm enjoying seeing how Buenos Aires is changing as the seasons pass. I only knew it in the winter, with the crisp air, bare trees and the way the exhaust fumes start to burn your nose after a while.
Spring started to spring a few months ago, but it continues in one of the longest processes of rebirth that I have seen in quite a while. The last time I took a walk down Libertador and through Palermo Chico, I noticed that while everything seemed to be in full bloom, there were these trees, big, dark and gangly, that had no leaves on them and were still fully bare.
On a walk a week or two ago, I saw a tree that had these nice purple flowers on them, but I thought it was just one tree and no big deal.
But today as I took a taxi to school for my Arabic class and passed the Plaza in front of the Facultad de Economia, I saw a group of these trees with these amazing blue, purple blossoms that were almost neon in color as they stood out against the darkness of the bark of the trees on which they grew.
After class, I decided to take a walk over to Libertador again and see if my hunch that these were the same trees and that they would be fully in bloom was right. I was.
I don't know what these trees are, but they are really amazing. None of the photos I took really captures their color. They, along with the bird that sounds like an ice cream truck are making this process of spring very enjoyable, even though the weather got too hot too fast.
Arabic class was okay today. It could always be better, but it was not too torturous either. I did learn something new, again, in spite of the teaching. Four students were absent today - the ones who I enjoy the most. Nicolas, the guy who asks a lot of questions, Martin, the guy who jokes a lot, Claudia Duffy, the Irish-Argentine woman who sits between me and Martin and laughs a lot and Romina, the nice, quiet, sweet girl who joined our class a few weeks late and makes me feel like I am not so lost.
I didn't go to the phonetics class last night and have decided I am not going to go anymore. I don't like the method of "pass the book" where our teacher passes a book around and we all take turns reading things that have nothing to do with anything. It is ridiculous the way she teaches that class! At least my Saturday morning class is at my level, even though it's the same teacher and her methods are not much better. And there are people there who make me laugh, who I can ask for help and who I can roll my eyes at.
I arrived a little after 10, thinking I'd have to make the rounds and kiss everyone who was already there (it would have been my first time). Instead, when I got to class, Ybti was the only one there, and was sitting at her desk looking rather forlorn. I know the feeling! It's horrible when you think no one is going to show up to your class. We talked a little about where everyone was (we didn't know) and then I asked her what she thought of Obama. I picked up an Italian newspaper at the newsstand outside of school when I got out of the taxi. I saw the headline about Obama and then noticed that the newspaper was Italian. It was only 70 centavos and it had a good cartoon about Silvio Berlusconi's recent faux pas about Obama having a nice tan, so I got it. As I put the paper in my school bag, I asked Ybti what she thought of him. She said she thought he would be good, but she, like many, wondered how it was that we had 8 years of Bush. I explained that the election had been stolen. I need to let people know that we really didn't vote for him.
It took a while for people to start trickling in and Paris, the older woman from Lebanon who doesn't speak Arabic and gets Ybti all worked up when she gets lost was about the 4th person to arrive. She was pretty low-key today, though Ybti did shout at her a few times (I think she thinks she is hard of hearing). I did notice that Ybti was not as short-tempered with her today. When she got lost or asked questions, Ybti was kind of nice and treated her almost like she treats everyone else (Nicolas asks a lot of questions and gets lost a lot, but gets treated differently than Paris).
And that was it. Class was nothing remarkable other than the people who make me laugh the most were not there.
After class, I met Carlos, my conversation exchange partner at the Facultad de Economia. There was something going on there today and there was a buzz of activity in the courtyard, but we found an empty room that had benches that kind of looked like pews in church and we sat and spoke for about an hour, half in Spanish and half in English.
It's funny when I speak Spanish to him because I speak very Argentine Spanish now - with the y sounds sounding like j and the gestures and the Italian intonation. I love it! But it seems funny speaking to Carlos since he is Peruvian and he speaks Spanish more like the way I learned it. Should I be speaking this way or the way he speaks? I wonder if speakers of English as a second language feel the need to adjust the way they speak English when they are in places where there are noticeable differences.
I learned today that Carlos is half Chinese. His name is Carlos Luna Wong. He is a really interesting guy and he is fun to talk to. He likes to talk and he is friendly. I feel like I lucked out with him when I kind of bombed with so many of my other attempted exchange partners. The only problem is that after three hours of Arabic and then not having time to eat, it's hard for me to really enjoy our exchanges. Today with the heat, the smell of smoke coming from the courtyard and my being really hungry, I was beginning to feel light headed and weak.
Life here has become kind of mundane as I said before, but the purple flowers gave me something to get excited about. I am sure there are still a few more things that will surprise me as I head into these last few weeks.
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