Out and About in Buenos Aires

Home (for now)

2009-01-06T01:17:00.003-02:00

I arrived home safe and sound on December 31. I've had a few days to adjust. It's time to reflect a little on the trip that now seems so far away.

I got an e-mail from Hernan. He sounds like he misses me. It was very sweet. I look forward to continuing with our complicated, yet simple friendship next year.

It feels good to be home, in my own apartment, in the cold rain of San Francisco winter. My car still runs, though it is definitely on its last leg. My apartment still feels warm and cozy, but I now notice the clutter. After 5 months of living with very little in a small, yet functional apartment, I return to a not much bigger apartment that is filled with stuff I don't need.

I unpacked my suitcases of the clothes I had that got me through three seasons (winter, spring and summer). I basically had enough clothes to last me a little more than a week, depending on the weather. I'd take my clothes to the lavanderia across the street in the morning and they were ready by that evening. I didn't mind wearing the same thing over and over again week to week, because I got the sense that most people did that. My Italian teacher Blas, basically wore the same shirt and pants for every class. It was clear that Hernan didn't have many clothes either. There didn't seem to be any pressure to always wear something new.

As I went to put my clothes from the trip away, I opened my drawers and closets to find them full of clothes I did not bring, and thus have not worn for at least 5 months, some for years. Why do I need so many clothes?!!

I don't.

While my kitchen in Buenos Aires was small and reminded me of a galley on an airplane, my kitchen in San Francisco, which I used to think was small now feels luxurious. Yet as I opened my cabinets to take stock of what I had to cook with, I was amazed at how many spices, jars, cans and bottles I have. Why do I need all of this stuff?!!!

I don't.

The thing is I cleaned out my apartment considerably before I left. I took bags of clothes to Goodwill, cleaned off my bookcases, and cleaned out my refrigerator and cabinets. I was shocked by how much is still there.

This morning I had an appointment at my dentist. There is a very sweet young woman who works there as the receptionist and is also an esthetician and does facials (I konw, this is San Francisco). It was lovely to see her, but I noticed that when we greeted each other we did not kiss. It felt so cold to me to just say, albeit cheerily, "hi, how are you?" That little Argentine kiss on the cheek, which at times felt awkward to me, felt like it would have been very appropriate at this moment.

Later today I went to Safeway and asked the guy in the produce section two questions about prices of things. He was very helpful. I noticed how easy it was for me to ask the questions and also how I was able to do it in a polite and friendly manner. "Do you know how much the limes are?" was one of my questions. I realized I would not have been able to do that in Buenos Aires and would have either not bought the limes, or bought them and took my chances that they were not exhorbitant (because usually nothing was).

And so, here I am, happy with my life, noticing the good and the bad about being back. Looking forward to one more chance at "making it" in Buenos Aires - trying once again to learn some tango, improve my Spanish, make friends, and find equilibrium among the chaos. Until then, I am going to try to shed the extra weight I put on from the ice cream, beef and wine, get my body and health back to optimum levels and enjoy my time in San Francisco. And of course, I will return to the classroom, hoping that my experiences as a student will give me better insights into how to be a better teacher.

It all feels good at this point, the trip, the return, and especially, being home.

Tigre

2008-12-30T18:35:00.003-02:00

Bozena, Diane and I went to Tigre today. Diane's sister was not feeling well, so she didn't join us.

I set off using the information from Larry's blog, thinking I knew what I was doing. Turned out I didn't. But the day turned out perfectly.

According to Larry's blog, he took the train from Retiro to Mitre station and then transferred to the Tren de la Costa. We went to Retiro station, I asked for the Tren de la Costa and got three tickets, which cost us $1.00 (for all three together). We just made the train, which was a little run down and packed with people who didn't look like the folks I normally see in the Recoleta.

Looking up at the map for Mitre station, I realized that Retiro is called Mitre. So it seemed to me that we were going to take the regular train all the way to Tigre.

But about 1/3 of the way on our trip, Bozena pulled out her guide book and I read about Tigre. I found out we could get off at Olivos and take the Tren de la Costa from there. We were just approaching Olivos station.

Expecting to get off and find this bridge to take us to the Tren de la Costa that Larry described (and I had read about elsewhere), instead I found us as a lonely little station out in the provinces. We asked a woman on the platform how to get to the TDLC (I can't keep writing Tren de la Costa) and she said, "you go up, you go down, you go up...." or something like that, implying that we had to walk a ways to get there. So we went into a grocery store and I asked the clerk and her directions were a little more clear. We walk to the end of the street we were on, turn right, then make a left and we'll come to the station.

That's what we did and we arrived at a cute little station called Borges. We had enough time to get a little refreshement at a cute cafe at the station and as the train approached we ran across the tracks to get on.

As we stood there out of breath expectently waiting for the doors to open, the conductor yelled something from the front of the train. Diane started banging on the doors, thinking that would open them, and someone, Diane or Bozena spotted a button outside of the train that she pushed, and the doors opened. What a silly system!

We enjoyed the rest of the ride on this very comfortable train.

As we arrived in Tigre, I went to a little information booth to find out about a short boat tour. They offered us a tour of 1.5 hour through the delta with a stop for lunch. It was expensive (180 pesos each) but we were all ready and willing to pay because it sounded perfect.

And it was.

Our boat driver was a young guy named Christian who was formerly a radiologist, and now lives in Tigre and drives a boat. He loved taking us down little inlets and pointing out animal tracks, turtles sunning themselves on branches, or birds flying above. He took us to a little house where his girlfriend cooked for us and then took us to the Rio de la Plata and showed us a newly forming island (the picture is of him walking on the sand that is collecting forming this new island). He wanted to continue the tour, which was well over 1.5 hours by now, but I was worried about getting back in time to finish packing and take a shower and get ready for my flight.

He brought us back to land and drove us to a station that was a few stops in from Tigre.

So, the correct way we should have gone was to take the train to Vicente Lopez from Retiro (Mitre) station, then cross the bridge to Maipu station, which is the end of hte line for the Tren de la Costa.

It was nice to get out of the city a little and see a very different way of living. Apparently many people from Buenos Aires have homes in Tigre and go there on the weekends. There is also a growing number of people giving up city life altogether and moving to Tigre for a simpler way of existence. I don't think I could live there, but it was a nice place to visit.

Last Post from Buenos Aires This Year

2008-12-30T07:13:00.003-02:00

I'm up very early today. Not sure why I can't sleep, but it's good, as I have a chance to write one more blog post before I leave.

Yesterday I had a very relaxing morning. Diane was in her apartment waiting for Bozena to arrive, and then she went for a manicure while I went and got my last massage. My massage was from a new person and I felt like it couldn't be over fast enough. I asked for it deep and have decided that outside of Thailand, women can not give big guys like me a deep massage without years of training. The woman who gave me a massage yesterday probably would have given me a nice relaxing massage if I had asked for that. But since I asked for deep, she was digging her elbow into me and slipping and sliding all over the place. She was not conscious of the fact that I had stopped breathing and was very uncomfortable. This was different from the kind of discomfort I got with Leiban, where I was actually releasing tension as I breathed heavily, moaned and sighed. I was just uncomfortable because I think she was not comfortable with what she was doing. She seemed stressed out mostly.

After my massage I went to the plaza outside of Facultad de Medicina to buy a few more mates for someone, I don't know who. I like the mates that this guy Walter sells.

I stopped by Aires to pick up some cakes and cookies for when Diane brought her sister and Bozena over.

I came home and started packing.

I put away the dressy pants and shirts that I never wore. Next year, they will stay in SF. If I could manage in five months not to get dressed up, I think I can do so for another 3 months when I return.

It seems that I have too much stuff. My carry on backpack is filled to the brim with things I bought here. I haven't finished packing the two bags I am going to check, but I am worried that they will be overweight. I don't know how I am going to manage to get all of this stuff from the taxi to the check-in counter tonight.

Hernan called and said he was on his way (we had texted earlier to set up a time for him to visit). He arrived a little after five and we had a short visit before Diane arrived with her sister and Bozena.

It's always interesting meeting siblings and family members of friends, and I enjoyed meeting Diane's sister who seems very different from Diane. The only similarity I could find is that they both speak slowly and clearly, but their voices are different - it is the pace of the way they speak that is similar. For Diane, it makes her a great ESL teacher.

We headed off towards Milion, which I wasn't sure would be open. I took them through the Recoleta a little and when we arrived at Milion it was packed. Very much unlike the time I went with Hernan, when it was nearly empty except for a few large groups of people, every table in the entry, in the back yard and on the terrace was filled with people drinking and eating. Turns out it was happy hour. We found one table on the terrace that was set with a table cloth and glasses and we should have known since it was a prime table that was empty that it was not available, but eventually someone came out and told us it was reserved for dinner. We tried finding a table in the back yard, but they told us there was nothing, so we ended up in one of the inner rooms in a table squished into a corner looking into the dining room. It was perfect.

I was thinking that I wanted some sort of frozen mojito and was happy to see that they had just that on the menu. The taste was a little odd, like it had jackfruit or some strange tropical fruit in it, but it was good and refreshing and didn't taste at all alcoholic, which made it slightly dangerous. Diane got a bellini and Bozena got a kir royale, and Karen, Diane's sister got the same as me.

We also got two platters of appetizers. One was Peruvian and one was Central American. The bill for this extravaganza was still less than the three drinks we got when we went to the Faena Hotel and Universe, proving once and for all that it was ridiculously overpriced for Buenos Aires.

It was a fun way to start off the evening. I felt very comfortable there, which I can not say for many places in the US where people go for happy hour. I loved being in this beautiful old mansion, the drinks and the food were good and the atmosphere felt very comfortable. There was cheto electronic music playing but it wasn't too loud to drown out our voices. The place was crowded and people were talking loudly, but it wasn't too loud that we could not hear each other speak.

From there we headed to El Sanjuanino. I had planned on taking them to La Pena del Colorado, where there would be live music and a sort of folksy atmosphere, but it turned out to be closed for a few days. El Sanjuanino was a good 2nd choice.

We walked a bit through the Recoleta, passed some of the big embassies (including the Vatican's Embassy) and arrived at El Sanjuanino actually chilled. It was unbelievably chilly and windy. After dying from the heat just one day before, it was a welcome, if not strange, change of weather.

I knew I wanted an empanada to start and I was going to have lentils, but it was difficult to get everyone else to settle on what they wanted. Diane seemed to want to make it a family style dinner, but I knew if I did that I would end up eating too much. The lentils are a perfect sized dish for me but they are very rich with chorizo and chunks of meat. If I added anything else to that, I would have been stuffed. I hope I wasn't obnoxious, but I jokingly said if they wanted lentils, they would have to order their own. Really, I was trying to encourage everyone to choose something.

Diane ordered a matambre, which I have seen on the menu, but never seen in person. I imagined it as a piece of meat sliced thin and rolled and stuffed with different things. Turns out it looked like a big empanada that was stuffed with meat, egg, cheese, tomato and other stuff. She may have mistakenly gotten two. It wasn't clear. Bozena ordered the erotic salad, which was roquefort, walnuts, celery, apples and cream. She hardly ate any because after she tasted my lentils, she wanted her own, and told me I wasn't sufficiently enthusiastic about the lentils or she would have ordered them from the start. So for anyone who is going to El Sanjuanino and doesn't know what to order - the lentils are FANTASTIC!!!!!!

Karen ordered a plate of fries, and I think a few more empanadas arrived, along with a mixed salad. I selfishly, but contentedly enjoyed my lentils while the rest of the food piled up like a large traffic jam on our table. Most of it ended up boxed up with Karen promising to make a delicious fritata for breakfast.

Stuff and warmed up, we walked up Posadas and headed up the hill next to the Alvear. Diane, now able to sense where she can steal nice paper towels, said, "Are we near the Alvear Palace?", and sure enough we had to go in so she could show Bozena the stash of thick paper towels in the ladies' room. Karen sat in the lobby and I went to use the men's room. Bozena came back from the ladies' room with her purse stuffed with paper towels. I wonder if they have hidden cameras in the Alvear. I may not be able to return there again.

It seemed like it was not as cold as it was earlier and we enjoyed our walk home through the Recoleta which seemed quieter than normal. My feet were starting to hurt from walking, but since I'd had a day of mostly rest, it wasn't too bad.

Today we are going to El Tigre, the delta. I have never been before, but thanks to Larry's blog, I know how to go. We're going to go to Retiro station and take the train to Mitre, where we will transfer to the Tren de la Costa, and ride along the coast. Hernan said we should leave by 9, but we aren't meeting until 10. Hernan thinks like an Argentine and if he had gone with us, would have taken us on the public boat taxis. We plan on renting a private boat and taking a quick tour of the delta with lunch either before or after our tour. We will then head back and I will continue to try to fit everything I have into my suitcases and take a rest before someone comes here to return my deposit and check me out.

It has been a long 5 months here in Buenos Aires and I am definitely ready to return home. I'm glad I am coming back, becaue I am finally beginning to feel a little like this is home too. Next year the adventure will continue. I'll be a little older, will have valuable experiences from this year to hopefully make the shorter stay better, will have hopefully some relationships that I started to develop that I can continue to cultivate. I also found a school where they offer level 8 Spanish, and need to check out the website (I passed by on my way back from buying mates yesterday). I think it might be good for me to get into a Spanish program if I can. My Spanish has improved a lot in these 5 months, but I still have a long way to go before I am competent and feel like I can hold my own around native speakers. It would be nice to study some Portuguese and I will add that if I can, but I think I will try to focus on Spanish when I return.

Well, it's time for my last bowl of bran cereal. My final breakfast in Buenos Aires.

Ready to Leave

2008-12-29T08:53:00.004-02:00

Yesterday the plan was to go to the Feria de Mataderos in the morning and San Telmo in the afternoon. But as I was looking at the website for Mataderos, it was not clear if there was going to be a fair yesterday. Afraid to take the chance, because Mataderos is pretty far away, and not the best neighborhood to be wandering around aimlessly, I decided instead to take us to Belgrano.

Belgrano is a nice neighborhood to the west of Palermo. It is comfortably middle class (or above) and has a busy shopping area, parks, and Chinatown. They also have the feria de Belgrano every weekend and holidays. I had never been, but I thought it would be worth a visit.

As we got off the subte at Juramento station and walked down Juramento, we saw that they were just setting things up, so I suggested we go to Chinatown first.

Chinatown here is not big, but it is fun to visit. There are a few shops selling made in China products. I got a little statue of the Virgen of Lujan, Argentina's virgin, that lights up in different colors, and some pads to put in my shoes that look like they will massage my feet. Diane bought some slippers.

We walked the two blocks of Chinatown and decided on a restaurant called Chinatown Cantina. It was on a corner and looked like it had been an old classic Argentine bar.

The restaurant was busy and the food was good. It was interesting watching Argentines, who seem very particular about their food, interact with the one waiter who was running around like a chicken without a head. At one table they were not happy with their food. The cook (who looked like the waiter's father) came out and told them that was the way they prepare it, but it would take it back and make it the way they wanted it. At another table, a woman seemed unhappy about something, but I couldn't tell what. Diane and I were very happy with our food, especially after Diane asked for "picante" and we got a small dish of chili sauce. In a country where they consider black pepper too spicy, it was great to have a dish of something that was so hot I was sweating!

We walked up Mendoza, another street in Belgrano and back to Cuba where the fair was. They were still not set up completely, but there were a few vendors. It seemed pretty kitschy. There were some baby clothes, jewelry, mates, wooden stuff, but not a whole lot, and what was there was not that impressive. It turned out we were early, the fair is more of a late afternoon/evening thing, and it will be on now every day until January 6. I don't know if Diane will bring the girls back.

We took the subte back to Puerrydon, I took a bubble bath, and Diane and I met back at the corner of Puerrydon and Santa Fe, which is almost halfway between our apartments. Our locations couldn't be better. We went to Catedral, the end of the line in the other direction, and walked to San Telmo.

By now it had really gotten hot and humid. Defensa was still quite crowded. I bought a beautiful wooden salad bowl. I had seen these bowls before and that was the one thing I knew I wanted from San Telmo. The one I got it huge, but it is really a work of art.

We walked all the way to Plaza Dorrego, turned and stopped to listen to a tango orchestra that had set up outide of the church of San Telmo, the saint who gives the neighborhood its name. This tango orchestra is one of the alternative tango orchestras that set up in San Telmo. I love watching them. This one had four bandoneon players (the little accordians typical of tango), several violins, a piano, and a cello or viola (a big stringed thing that rested on the ground). They also had a singer. Diane bought a CD and they seem very irreverent. One song is called "maldito monogamia" - damned monogamy" and they have a "maldita milonga" - damned milonga - with lessons and a performance. They look kind of like the crowd that hangs out on Valencia street in the Mission in SF, long scruffy hair, unshaven, a little on the dirty side, but armed with the typical instruments of a tango orchestra.

By now I was very hot and thirsty. A woman was selling fresh squeezed orange juice and had the last remnants of ice in a little bucket on her cart. We approached her and she was tying a string around her cart to keep it from falling apart. I was waiting for her to finish before telling her what we wanted, when out of nowhere, a young latina walked up and ordered an orange juice. The women selling the juice, who knew we were there first, went ahead and prepared her juice. I told her we wanted two, but when I saw her use up the last bits of ice, I told Diane, "let's go", and we walked away. I was pissed that she didn't serve us in the order we arrived, and really didn't want hot orange juice.

So instead we walked down Balcarce, which was much quieter and easier to walk than crowded Defensa. We came across a little bar on the corner and I suggested we go in for something to drink. Usually I'm not one to just pop into any place I come across, but this place looked comfortable and we were just going to get a drink.

They had licuados (smoothies) on the menu, so I asked the server what kind they had. He rattled off a bunch of fruits - strawberries, pineapple, orange, and then said they had lemonade with mint. It sounded so refreshing, that is what we decided on. But we had to wait for someone to come back and take our order. Even though it wasn't that busy, the service was kind of slow and inattentive.

Another server, this time a woman, came back. She told us the lemonade came in a pitcher, which was fine. I also ordered a vanilla budin (loaf cake) and mus de maracuya (passionfruit mousse). Passionfruit seems to be quite popular here, which is odd, because I don't think it is native to Argentina. Maracuya ice cream is one of my favorites.

Everything was fantastic! The mousse was light and creamy, the lemonade with mint was blended with ice and was so refreshing and the vanilla loaf cake was moist and flavorful. We gobbled it all down and the experience would have been extremely pleasant were it not for a young french woman who was sitting with a group of people, who seemed to be of varying nationalities. This woman was speaking English very loudly and arguing (it seemed) over the uselessness of reading. She was challenging the guy across from her to tell her what writer she must read that would change her life. She got quiet for a few moments when her food arrived, but soon, her voice was filling the bar and competeting with the music for attention.

We walked back towards the subte and as we crossed Avenida de Mayo, we saw that they were setting up for some kind of concert. To kill time, I suggested we go to Cafe Tortoni, which is a must-see for any tourist visiting Argentina. It is a like a living museum.

We had to wait in line to get in, but we decided they make people wait just to increase the apparent value of the visit. Once you go in, after waiting in line, you see that there are plenty of empty tables.

It is a fun scene, mostly because it is a classic old Argentine bar/cafe, and everyone is snapping photos while eating and drinking. There was one very old woman sitting with a guy who looked like he was her son. The son sat reading a newspaper and then he picked up a Borges book, while the mother sat there looking around and for about 5 minutes picked her nose. It looked like he had taken her out for the day, but they did not interact at all. Here is a picture of them (over in the right hand corner).

From there, we walked back out to Avenida de Mayo and it looked like the concert was still not ready to start. I was hot and tired, so I suggested we just go home. Of course all of my suggestions are ok with Diane. I took her on the A line of the subte, which runs up Avenida de Mayo and has old wooden cars. It is the oldest subway line in South America. You have to open the doors manually, which is really fun.

We got off at the Congresso and since we were near, I wanted to show Diane the water building on Cordoba, which is a masterpiece in extravagence. The building is covered in Royal Doulton china which was shipped from England and numbered to be pieced together. Since it was half-way between where we were and where we wanted to go, it wasn't worth taking a taxi there or from there to our apartments. I ended up walking too much again, and my feet and legs were really sore and tired by the time I got home.

I took another shower and changed for the third time and went to Diane's to see what we were going to do for dinner. Our first plan, to order delivery from the Sirian-Lebanese club fell through since they were closed on Sunday. We found a listing for a Spanish restaurant two blocks from Diane's apartment and walked to find it, but either it was no longer there or was closed, so we went to Romario, a pizza restaurant chain and got a small pizza that looked like a large. It was good, but I was really stuffed and tired. I'm feeling fat, old and achy, and look forward to returning to SF where I can eat healthy food again, drive, and work out at my comfortable gym. Hopefully, between not walking so much, some acupuncture and massage, and a better diet, I can get my body back into decent working condition. It feels like it has been abused these past five months. I think I really messed my feet up by walking so much in shoes with bad support on sidewalks that tilt in every which direction. Hopefully the damage can be undone.

This morning I have the entire morning to relax, and then I have an appointment at Aqua Vita Spa for a massage and a facial. Bozena arrives at 11:15 today and should be at Diane's by 1. Then Diane's sister arrives at 2:15. Once they get in and settled, they are going to come here and we'll have a little drink here before going to Milion, for a drink and an introduction to the world that Buenos Aires has to offer.

I took one last load of laundry to the lavanderia across the street and will begin packing today. After 5 long months, the end has finally come and I'm ready to go home.

Shopping With Diana...

2008-12-27T23:12:00.003-02:00

The fun thing about having people visit for me is that I get to go to all of my favorite places that I normally would not go to. This happens when friends visit me in San Francisco too. I'm glad Diane decided to visit me at the end of my stay here as it is giving me an opportunity to make one last visit to some of my favorite BsAs spots, and I'm even seeing some new places.

Today we met halfway between our apartments and took a taxi to Gurrachaga and Cordoba. There is a shoestore on Gurrachaga that Lorena said I might like, and Diane wanted to go to the Prune outlet on Gurrachaga, but on the other side of Cordoba. I figured we could do both and then I'd show her around the Palermos.

We walked about 4-5 blocks down Gurrachaga into a neighborhood called Villa Crespo. Diane met an Argentine woman on the plane on her flight down and admired her boots. The woman told her they were Prune. She then showed Diane her wallet and change purse, which were also Prune. So Diane has had Prune on her mind since she got here. The other day I sent her to Abasto on her own, where there is a Prune shop, but this was a Prune outlet!

We went inside and it was a feeding frenzy of women going crazy over bags, wallets, jackets, belts. One man stood in the midst of it all looking like I felt. I found a wallet for myself, one for a gift and a bag, and told Diane I'd meet her outside.

Unfortunately, Diane was swallowed up into the bowels of the Prune Outlet and I thought I'd never see her again. She emerged nearly an hour later with two large bags on her arms. I'd say Prune was a big hit with Diane!

From there we walked down Gurrachaga into Palermo Soho to 28 Sport, the shoe store Lorena recommended. The shoes were bowling style, and they were nice but I felt like I'd have to wear bowling shirts and grow one of those little furry things under the lip that are not quite a goatee. I didn't get shoes.

We walked through Palermo Soho a bit, onto Honduras and around Plaza Serrano until we got to Nicaragua. We turned to head into Palermo Hollywood, but were stopped by a large wall that would not allow us to cross. It was kind of like the Berlin wall. So we hopped in a taxi, which was nicely air-conditioned, and the driver took us to Nicaragua and Arevalo, to a cafe I ate at with Hernan called Oui Oui.

I asked the driver why this section of Palermo was called "Hollywood". He was a very nice guy and in loud, clear Spanish told me he had two theories. One was that there are several TV stations there, and the other is that there are many actors and film people who live in that section of Palermo. He said it has only been 5 or 6 years that it has been known as Palermo Hollywood. Before that it was just Palermo.

Oui Oui was crowded, but we got a table. We had three salads. Diane had a salad with avocado, sun dried tomatoes, a fried egg on a piece of bread and goat cheese. I had a salad with pears, beets, some melted cheese and it tasted like there were fried onions in the dressing. And we shared a goat cheese provoleta, which came on a bed of greens. It was all very yummy. We also had a small pitcher of wine. We then went for the deserts, which looked and smelled really tempting. Diane had a crepe with nutella and I had a flourless chocolate cake with cream. We both had coffee.

It was a feast. And it was nice to get away from the milanesa, steak and fries typical menus.

Oui Oui is a very cute little cafe, with lots of chalkboards with hand written menus, dried flowers hanging on the walls, and lots of kitsch.

From there, we taxid over to Plaza Armenia in Palermo Viejo, where Diane made a few purchases, but by now the heat had become oppressive. The sky was darkening like it was going to pour any minute, and a torrential shower would have been a welcome relief from the heat. There wasn't a lot going on at Plaza Armenia so we headed back to Plaza Serrano and then caught a taxi home.

I took a nap and Diane laid all of her purchases from Prune on her bed and rolled around naked on them. No, I am just kidding about that. But she did say she didn't sleep because she was looking at her wallets.

A little after 6, Diane came here and we headed to Yin Yang Pie to make an appointment for her to get a manicure on Monday. We then walked over to the Recoleta Fair.

This is the third or fourth time I've been to the Recoleta Fair, and you'd think I'd be tired of it by now, but each time I go I see different things and I develop a new appreciation for it. Today I was struck by all of the people who are making things, jewelry, clothes, paintings, art, handicrafts, mates, whatever, and selling them. Diane bought a pair of shoes from a guy who said he makes them in his home with his wife and son and learned from his father. I bought a beautiful little copper plate with enamel painting from a woman who said she has been selling them there for 35 years. She said when she started she told her mother she would just do it for a few years, but it has been 35! She was very proud of her work and the plates were really lovely little pieces of art. I regret not going there more. I think it is interesting just to walk around and talk to people there and hang out.

After that, we headed over to El Sanjuanino, one of my favorite little local restaurants. The food is not really anything special, but it is good, hearty and reasonably priced. What I love about the place is the atmosphere. It feels very warm and homey, the waiters are friendly and the place is always filled with a mix of locals and tourists. Today a few older couples were wishing one of the waiters a happy birthday. You could tell they eat there a lot.

From El Sanjuanino, we walked down to Patio Bullrich because we needed Freddo to get the taste of steak out of our mouths. Patio Bullrich is a very luxurious shopping center with shops such as Kenzo, Cristian Lacroix and Prune! It used to be a livestock trading market, but is a beautiful structure and was all shiny and sparkly for the holidays. We walked around a bit and then went to Freddo for a little ice cream. I got mora, which I think is black currant, and passion fruit. Diane got bitter chocolate with raspberry. I loved the mora, but I think Volta's passion fruit is better.

From there, we headed up Avenida Alvear and Diane said she had to pee and wanted to use the bathroom in the Alvear Palace Hotel. But really, she wanted to steal some of the very thick paper towels they have in the bathroom. There was a big hullabaloo going on in the ballroom, so I waited in the lobby while Diane made her way through the crowds to the restroom to steal paper towels. It turned out there was a wedding and they thought she was a guest, so she had a glass of champagne on the way! Now, that is super cheto!

We zig zagged our way home through the Recoleta, making a stop at the Sirian-Lebanese Club. I wanted to go inside to see the restaurant and the buffet that I only know from delivery. The people there were very nice and allowed us to go up into this grand old house to check out the restaurant. The restaurant itself was almost diner like in its informality, people were wearing shorts and it all looked very relaxed. The food looked great, and the building was absolutely gorgeous. As we were leaving, I asked the woman who greeted us if it had been a house. She said yes, one family used to live there. I said it was incredible, and she said something like, "yes, it's a shame how the poor used to live" - I think she was being ironic!

It was a full, but fun day. My feet are killing me, of course, but I think I can take one more day of trekking around if I am careful to take breaks and not walk too much (it is so hard not to walk in this city - it's the only way to really see it).

Tomorrow our plan is to go to the Feria de Mataderos early, take showers and naps (or roll around naked on the bed with our purchases) and then head to San Telmo.

Monday I have another massage, and a facial at Aqua Vita, and Diane's sister and another friend, Bozena both arrive. Monday evening we will go out for drinks and dinner and then on Tuesday we may leave the city to visit Tigre, getting home in time for me to finish packing and head to the airport!

My last few days in Buenos Aires are turning out to be full, and very satisfying, if not exhausting. I'll be leaving with some fond memories and a desire to return for just a little bit more (but not missing the heat).

Adventures With Diana - continued....

2008-12-27T10:16:00.003-02:00

After soaking my legs and feet in a warm bath on Thursday night and again yesterday morning, I was ready to pound the tiled sidewalks again with Diana (that is what we call her here).

Diane came by and we headed down to my money changer at Callao and Santa Fe. There was one person being served, so we had to wait, but as soon as he was done, we walked up, handed over our money, got our pesos and left. No hassle, no fuss. No one telling us to stand behind the line. No passports. I don't understand why it is different than the other places, but I hope there is one like this in my new neighborhood next year.

From there we walked one block to Rodriguez Pena to La Cholita for lunch. La Cholita is a parilla, but it is kind of cool with crayons and newsprint on the table and feels very relaxed to me. I had pork and Diane had an eggplant sandwich. I think she was trying to be healthy, but the sandwich came on a huge roll. I think it would have been healthier to just have a hunk of meat!

I knew Diane wanted to window shop and we had some time before our foot massages, so I sent her down Santa Fe and I headed to El Ateneo to buy some tango CDs for someone. We met up in Volta.

From there we headed over to Yin Yang Pie. I got a one hour foot massage while Diane was getting her pedicure. Then she got a foot massage while I got a pedicure. I fell asleep during my foot massage. I don't know if it helped with the plantar facitis, but it felt good. I guess there was a misunderstanding though because Diane's foot massage was only 30 minutes. Still, we were happy.

Oh, I forgot, she is Diana now.

So Diana and I came back to my place for a brief rest and then hopped in a cab to San Telmo to visit Hernan and his friend Catarine. Catarine is visiting from Quebec, and when her boyfriend arrives in a few days she is heading to Easter Island in Chile (one place I'd really love to go) and then backpacking in Bolivia. She was very nice and Diana, Hernan and Catarine all hit it off very well. It was a nice visit.

From Hernan's we were able to walk to Peru which eventually turns into Florida (street that is). The vendors we liked on Peru were mostly gone (there is a very hippie/alternative scene on Peru during the day), but as we crossed over Avenida de Mayo to Florida Street, the venders stretched the length of Florida Street for miles. They were selling everything - mates (of course), bags, jewelry, underwear, sandals, toys, etc. There were musicians - one alternative band with a horn section and young kids with dreadlocks that was really jamming and very good, a few Peruvian looking guys playing flutes along with recorded new age music, one human statue, and tons of people. As we got closer to Cordoba, where Gallerias Pacifica is, the crowds got denser and it became harder to walk and look at what was being sold. We ducked into Gallerias Pacifica through the side entrance and Diane used the rest room (I had to wait because the mens room was out of order) and then we went to the food court.

The food courts in the malls here are pretty much your standard Argentine fare. Most of them have steak. A few have chicken. We were looking at the sushi menu at a Japanese restaurant while the guy behind the counter ignored us. Finally when I asked him if they were open, he said yes, but they didn't have any sushi. We settled on Chinese. It was what you could expect at a food court in a mall, but I was really hungry, so I enjoyed it anyway.

After we ate I remembered I wanted to try what was supposed to be the best pizza in Buenos Aires. Another night perhaps.

From there we were able to walk up Santa Fe towards our homes. I love Santa Fe when it is not busy and you can look up and see the elegant old apartment buildings that line the street. It's nice to walk on Sunday, since the stores are closed and the street is pretty quiet. It is a lovely avenue.

By the time we got to Volta I was ready for a rest so we ducked in and had small ice creams. Diane had chocolate nero (black chocolate) and raspberry and I had lemon mousse and strawberry chocolate chip (I like the strawberry with chocolate chips).

I walked Diana to Puerrydon where we practiced kissing like Argentines and then came home and had a good night's sleep, where unfortunately I had a teaching dream. It was one of those dreams where I was in the classroom but didn't have the right book, didn't know what I was supposed be teaching, etc. I hate those dreams!

I'm now ready to give Diana a call and see if she is ready for our adventure today. This morning we are going to Palermo, we'll have lunch there and then come home for naps before going to the Recoleta Fair in the evening and then have dinner at El Sanjuanino. Another full day, hopefully my feet will hold up.

My Aching Feet....

2008-12-26T11:22:00.002-02:00

My feet are killing me. They started to hurt about a month ago, but in spite of my best efforts at stretching and doing exercises I found online, they still hurt. It doesn't help that I am trying to play tour guide to Diane. As much as I want to show her everything, I think I'm going to have to start taking it easy, and maybe sending her off on her own, while I sit in a cafe and wait. It's hard getting old....

Yesterday we had a nice relaxing Christmas day. I went to Diane's for lunch and we had the leftover Arab food and leftover seafood from Christmas Eve. We went up to the pool on her roof and swam for a bit and then I came back to my place and took a nap.

Later we were going to go to Hernan's, but when I called him, he said he had a few friends there drinking daiquiris and had more friends coming over. Of course we were invited, but the thought of a bunch of people crammed into his small apartment smoking cigarettes didn't appeal to me, so I told him we'd see him another day. I am giving him all of the things I bought for my kitchen to hold and use, and return to me when I come back next year if I need them. After that, he can have them. I'd rather give them to him than leave them in this apartment (which is nicely furnished, but does not have a very functional kitchen).

So instead, Diane and I had a mate and some cakes and then I took her on a tour of the Recoleta. It was a beautiful evening with a cool breeze blowing. It was almost chilly - a very nice and welcome change. The streets were beginning to come back to life as I suppose people were finished with whatever they did to celebrate Christmas. Fortunately, there were no firecrackers raining down from the balconies.

We walked the old streets of Recoleta, which is one of the most beautiful neighborhoods in Buenos Aires. Every few blocks we'd come across a little plazoleta, with a fountain or a statue. Big villas which are now used as embassies stood as reminders of the wealth that some Argentines enjoyed back when Argentina was progressing into the first world like Europe and the United States. I don't know where it all went wrong, but I am guessing the corruption, greed, military coups and a very unequal distribution of wealth were some of the culprits.

We crossed over 9 de Julio and walked a bit through my old neighborhood from last year. It was nice to see it again, now lush and green with all of the trees full of leaves. We passed Palacio San Martin, one of the biggest and most imposing villas, which is now open for tours (and I don't know what other purpose it serves other than taking up nearly an entire city block).

We headed back up through the Recoleta along Posadas, and then back to Diane's for dinner. We had the ravioli and bolognese sauce we got at Mas Pastas around the corner from me, and Diane made a yummy salad with old bread, tomatoes and onions. It was a nice finish to a nice day...except that my feet were killing me.

I came home and soaked my feet a bit and went to bed, but actually had a hard time sleeping because my feet were throbbing. I don't know why suddenly I am having problems with my feet and my legs, but it is just one more things on my list of things I need to talk to my doctor about when I return to SF.

Today we have foot massages, we might visit Hernan and I'm taking Diane to Florida Street and Gallerias Pacificas. I will probably sit in a cafe while she explores the shops because I need to make sure I'll be able to walk when I get home!

Scary Christmas Eve

2008-12-25T09:26:00.003-02:00

My pants are getting tight after only a few days of eating with Diane. I don't know how that is possible. It's not like we are really stuffing ourselves, or even like we are eating a lot, but the reality is, my pants are getting tight.

Diet and exercise begin when I get back to SF. For now, it's time to enjoy one last time what Buenos Aires has to offer.

On Tuesday evening we ordered a "picada fria" from the Sirian-Lebanese Club and had it delivered. We didn't finish the whole thing, so there is still some left for us to snack on today. It has hummus, baba ghanoush, tabouli, chicken with tahini, falafel, feta cheese, olives, and my favorite thing - myadara - which is lentils and rice topped with fried onions. Super yummy.

Yesterday Diane came by for lunch and I made penne with tuna, olives and sun dried tomatoes. It was a healthy lunch and we didn't overeat. We went to the Disco to pick up some stuff for Christmas Eve and Christmas dinners, went to my little produce market on the corner, and then went one block in the other direction to get ravioli and sauce (for today) and some little cakes (that we didn't need).

There is a bakery one block from here (I think that one block in every direction from here there is a bakery), called Aries. I can see the back wall of the bakery from my window with a big sign painted on it with their number for delivery.

Only recently I stopped in and saw that they have these little cakes called "masas finas". I just looked in my dictionary and "masa" is a combination of flour, eggs, and yeast. I guess it is dough. So these are "fine doughs?" Somehow that doesn't describe them, so I posted a picture.

They are really yummy little cakes with cream, mouses, fruit and dulce de leche. I got an assortment of 12. We each ate 2. The rest are in my refrigerator calling me to eat them for breakfast instead of fiber cereal and fruit.

After relaxing a bit it was time for our Christmas Eve spa treatments at 3. I had massages scheduled for us. We went to Aqua Vita and it turned out our appointments were for 1, and I had a 3 p.m. appointment on Monday (which I thought was at 1). I got the two days mixed up, even though I had a card in my wallet with the times on it.

They were very nice, however, and let us get massages at 3. They even called Leiban, the guy who gives killer massages, to come back. Diane had another guy who gave her a light, relaxing massage, while I received Leiban's torture. He used his elbow and body weight to dig deep into my muscles, and when I'd scream, he'd dig deeper. It's the kind of massage I need and it is what I like. It was perfect. When we left at 4:30, we were the last ones there. Things had begun shutting down for Christmas Eve.

We took a nice air-conditioned taxi over to the Alvear Palace Hotel for our tea. I made a reservation, but we didn't need it. The place was pretty empty. It was not filled with its usual gaggle of conchetta's spending their husband's money, but instead, by an assortment of foreigners, like us. I guess all of the Argentines were at home doing whatever they do on Christmas Eve.

We started off with 4 crustless sandwiches. Then they brought out a three tiered plate with scones, little cakes and some savory pastries. After that, they wheeled out the thing that Larry calls the Iron Lung. A big glass case filled with cakes. We choose the Alvear palace specialty, which was a pastry made with layers of flaky filo dough with a layer of dulce de leche and a layer of creme inside. We could hardly make a dent in it, we were so full. As we were about to roll out of the restaurant, Mariano, our server, came back with two plates piled high with truffles. We declined.

We walked through the Recoleta, which was now deserted. The streets were very quiet and there was hardly any traffic. Diane went back to her apartment and I rested here.

At about 9:30, Diane came back and at 10:30 (or later?) we had our dinner. Usually I make the 7 fish dinner that my family does on Christmas Eve. Actually, my godmother used to make 13 fishes, but my mom did 7. I don't even think there are 7 possibilities of seafood here. I counted the tuna and penne we had for lunch and I think we ended up with 5 or 6. We had salmon which I crusted with black sesame seeds and pan seared, and topped with soy sauce, ginger, cilantro and chilis. It was very good. And we got two salads at the seafood shop because the shrimp were all cooked and frozen (our original plan was to make garlic shrimp). So instead we had octopus a la provencal, which I think just had parsley and oil. I added garlic and lemon, but it still needed something. The octopus was very tender though. And we had a seafood salad "a la caribena", which basically just had some red pepper chopped in it. I added some red chili, cilantro and lime juice. It turned out really good.

It seemed like a healthy dinner, but I felt really stuffed afterwards, even though we didn't eat a lot. I think the cakes from the afternoon tea were still in my stomach!

A little after midnight I walked Diane home because I wanted to see what the streets were like.

It felt like we were walking through a war zone. The streets were deserted. There were one or two taxis cruising down Santa Fe, but no cars. There were hardly any people on the streets. Some guys from the corner kiosko were standing outside of their store. A few people were outside of a restaurant smoking. Most restaurants were closed.

But the scary thing was the firecrackers. Loud booms could be heard all around. Some very close. People were lighting them on their balconies and dropping them. I imagined one dropping down the back of my shirt and us spending Christmas Eve in the Emergency Room of the Hospital Aleman. I was really afraid to walk Diane home but I didn't want her to walk home alone with the streets so deserted and firecrackers raining down.

I think Buenos Aires has a very dangerous element to it, even though I have not had any problems. I've been super cautious, and really haven't been in any position where I might be in danger. But Diane makes me worry. A few nights she insisted on walking me home, even though it was late. When I protested, she insisted more. Then, she'd insist on walking back to her place down Beruti, which is dark and does not get much traffic, instead of Santa Fe, which is well lit, had lots of people walking and has plenty of traffic. Even though I tell her it is dangerous, she insists on walking down Beruti. I just hope her luck holds out and nothing happens.

As I said good-bye to Diane, she suggested I walk home down Ecuador, which would bring me to Beruti. I thought it was funny that she was suggesting on this scariest of nights, that I walk down an even more deserted street with people dropping firecrackers from their balconies!

I walked down Santa Fe and was very glad to make it back to my apartment safe and sound.

Merry Christmas!

Diane!!!

2008-12-23T10:44:00.003-02:00

Diane is here!

It's really nice to have a good friend visiting, especially now after I have been here for almost 5 months, I'm tired, achey, and pretty bored, but I know my way around quite well, and am happy to make the rounds of the must-see places. Diane is super easy to be with and has very few requirements, other than a need to shop. She likes to eat, which is important to me, and she's really chill and laid-back to hang out with.

Yesterday I wore myself out showing her around. Today I'm going to try not to walk as much.

I met her at her apartment, which is also one of the BA4U apartments. It's in a building on Santa Fe near Ecuador, where they have 11 apartments. They are all super chic. Diane's is a one-bedroom. The others are all studios. It is really nice, and makes my apartment look like a dump. She has a balcony in the rear and a patio off of her bedroom (which seems mostly designed for hanging laundry). It's nicely decorated and very comfortable. It even has really nice dishes in the kitchen. I would consider it for next year except I can not spend three months living right on Santa Fe. Walking out of my buidling every day onto a busy, crowded street would be too stressful. My new neighborhood is quiet, and even though my apartment is kind of funky, it has a nice terrace and kitchen.

So anyway, I met Diane, who was raring to go after 20 hours of travel. We went to La Payuca, a parilla near her apartment, for lunch. She had a steak and I had a few bites. It was perfect! I had a salad and we shared a provoleta (I had already eaten 4 empanadas before I met her because I was starving).

After lunch, we walked to the Recoleta Fair grounds and visited the cemetary. I actually found Evita's grave this time. 9 times out of 10 when I go there I am unable to find it. Evita is buried in the Duarte Family mausoleum. Duarte was her father who was married to another woman and had his own "legitimate" family. Eva was a bastard (can you say that about a woman?), and it was a scandal that she was buried in the Recoleta Cemetary. Apparently her body was removed several times, sometimes for safe keeping, but was eventually returned by her husband Juan Peron when he came back into power (so they say). Some people dispute that she is actually there.

From the cemetary we went to a money changer nearby. I was so lucky to find the money changer that Ralf recommended, because changing money can be a real hassle. We had to stand in line. Diane had to show her passport, tell them where she was staying, her occupation, her telephone number, and then they didn't have 100 peso notes (which was actually a good thing because they are so hard to break). Then she had to stand in another line to get her pesos. All the while, the security guard kept telling people to stand behind the line. It was super high pressure and very rigid. Worse than standing in line to go through immigration. My money changer is very low key. I give her the dollars, she gives me the pesos. No talk, no muss, no fuss.

By this point in the day we needed ice cream, so we went to my favorite Volta on Callao and Pacheco de Melo. I had maracuya and limon (lemon and passion fruit) which was very refreshing. Diane had chocolate and coffee. Very creamy. It was a yum.

I brought Diane back to Santa Fe and showed her where my money changer is, I showed her the Volta on Santa Fe, and we stopped in El Ateneo, the bookstore in the former opera house, and then headed over to Arenales, towards my place. We stopped in the foot massage place and made appointments for pedicures and foot massages on Friday. They are totally booked up now for the holidays and of course closed Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

We came to my place, skyped her friend Jonathan for his birthday, had a glass of wine and then went to Diane's Disco (the supermarket across the street from her building) and to her apartment and hung out a bit before heading out again.

I took her for a walk up Charcas and showed her the area where there are no cars, and lots of restaurants and cafes. We passed an Indian restaurant on the way and I asked Diane if she wanted to eat there. "Sure", she said. Which is her response any time I ask her anything. I love that!

We walked up Charcas, visited the little plaza in front of the basilica at the end, and headed back to Tandoor, the Indian restaurant. It was about 10:30 and the restaurant was packed. More people continued coming while we were there and when we finally left around 12:15, the restaurant was beginning to slow down.

The food was good, but not great. I've definitely had better. Still it was good to have something different than steak and potatoes!

I walked Diane home and by this point I could hardly walk. My feet were killing me, my legs were cramped. I didn't think I could make it the 5 blocks home. I tore off my clothes, brushed my teeth and collapsed in bed.

My building is normally very quiet. The only sound I can ever hear is a neighbor moaning (I assume she is having sex). It is funny that that is all I ever hear. Well, last night I heard someone watching TV. It must have been very late because I know I slept well and long and hard. I woke up and heard the TV which kept me up for a while until I fell asleep again and was woken up in the morning by construction.

Diane just called me sounding very worn out. I think the travel and all of the walking caught up with her. Today we're heading to La Boca and Puerto Madero. Tomorrow we have massages, which we both are going to need.

Relief

2008-12-21T14:01:00.003-02:00

Yesterday was sweltering. It went up to 95F (35C) and was humid, probably making it feel like it was over 100. Old people like me can die in that kind of heat.

I didn't know it was so hot because I didn't leave my apartment until after 5 or so. I am not sure what I did. Since I finished classes and I permanently have the shutters in my bedroom closed (to keep it cool), I have been sleeping later. This means I am also going to bed later. I wonder if that is going to make it easier or more difficult to readjust to SF time.

So I got up late, spent hours playing on the computer (Facebook has become my preferred method of wasting time these days), ate breakfast and lunch, watched a rerun of America's Next Top Model, and finally couldn't take it anymore. I decided to walk up Santa Fe, towards Palermo (it might already be Palermo).

Once I started walking, I realized how hot it was. I was standing on the corner of Puerrydon and Santa Fe and the sun was beating on me and I felt like I was cooking. Fortunately, because of the heat, or because of the time of day, or because it was Saturday, or because it is close to Christmas, the sidewalks were not too crowded, until I got near to Alta Palermo Shopping Center, and then it was a zoo.

I decided to walk to Julian Alvarez and scope out my neighborhood for my return. I'm 99% sure I will be taking the apartment I looked at there. Norma doesn't like it because it has carpet. My only problem was that it kind of smelled (but there was someone living there). I liked the terrace and the kitchen, and after walking through the neighborhood, I like the neighborhood a lot too. There is a chino right across the street (convenient for those last minute runs for water, wine, or whatever), and there is cafe/coffee shop on the corner. There is a great seafood market two blocks away and as I walked by I saw piles of fresh Chilean salmon, and fresh prawns (which have been impossible for me to find). I know I'll be eating a lot of seafood when I return. It is also closer to Chinatown and within walking distance of Jumbo. Plus there will be a whole bunch of new restaurants and shops for me to explore.

After exploring the neighborhood a bit, I headed back down Santa Fe, and even though I was walking in the shade, it seemed hotter. And it seemed to get more crowded, the more I walked. I was constantly dodging people and thinking about Tess who said once when we were walking (pick a lane!) I'm not sure what she was referring to, but I thought it was funny how people here don't seem to walk in straight lines, but are all over the sidewalk.

I stopped at a shop that sells aromatherapy kind of stuff. Bath salts, bath lotions, sprays, candles, etc. I got some lavendar spray there and it is nice. Diane has problems sleeping, and I thought some lavendar spray and bath milk might be nice for her. I was standing in line sweating and the young woman in front of me turned to me and asked "is that for men?" At first I didn't realize she was talking to me as I was kind of zoned out with the heat and all, so she repeated it. I just shrugged, and said, "this is for a friend (amiga)" which made her question kind of moot. But I thought about the question and it seemed kind of odd to me. Being gay, I am less concerned if something is for men or women as I am with whether or not I like it. So can a man take a lavender scented bath? Why the hell not! I guess metrosexuality has not caught on yet here.

On the way home I passed a pasta shop and even though I have leftover salmon that is very tasty and healthy, I wanted some ravioli. I picked up a box of ravioli, a small container of bolognese sauce and some grated cheese. It cost me 19 pesos (about 6 dollars or less) for what turned out to be a wonderful dinner. The ravioli were small, but fresh and homemade. The sauce was also good. It is a dinner that my mother would have spent days making (between the sauce and the pasta) and for me took only a few minutes. One more thing I will miss - the fresh pasta that is everywhere.

Ah, and the relief? Today it is raining. It was gray and overcast this morning and it rained briefly, but then it stopped. After doing some editing, I decided I should go out earlier today and took a shower and got dressed for the gym. As soon as I was ready to leave, I looked out and it had started raining again. I didn't want to carry an umbrella and didn't want to get all wet, so I stayed in. The rain got heavier, but it also cools things down amazingly. It is in the low 70's now. Almost 20 degrees (or more) cooler than yesterday. I'm feeling a nap coming on, even though it sounds to me like the rain has stopped.

Today is my final day of boredom as my friend Diane arrives tomorrow. It will be fun hanging out with her my last week. She is one of the easiest people to do anything with. She likes to eat (which is a major pre-requisite for me), she is easy-going, super nice, and very low drama. I know she will have ideas about things that she wants to do, but I also know if I suggest something, she'll go along with it. I've been eating lots of salmon and trying to shed a few pounds in anticipation of spending time with Diane. Because she is so easy-going, and because I like to eat so much, I know we will be eating a lot as I try to introduce her to everything there is to eat in Argentina in one week!

Things I Like

2008-12-19T23:09:00.002-02:00

I got my final Buenos Aires haircut today. When I came here my hair was pretty short because I had been going to barbers in San Francisco. I was wearing my hair short, and going to my regular salon was costing me $75 a pop. With my hair short, I needed it cut almost once a month, so it got out of hand. I found a barber in the Tenderloin, near where I work. He was an old Vietnamese guy in a funky little barber shop that was like it was out of a time warp. He cut mostly young guys who got funky gang member haircuts. I felt a little odd there. Then I found a gay barber on Market Street near Castro. I knew the place existed, but I never tried it. For $15 dollars, the guy used shears and cut my hair right before I left for Buenos Aires. It was a good cut, but it was not designed to grow in. As it did, my head got kind of furry and bushy. So, I went to Club Creativo for my first haircut.

The guy who cut my hair was the same guy who cut my hair last year when I was here. I really liked the cut he gave me last year. When I returned to SF, I wanted to keep the same shape. I went to a salon in the Haight and a women totally messed up my hair. I had to go to another salon to get it fixed, and that was how I ended up getting trapped paying $75 per haircut.

Well anyway, this guy, Uriel, gave me another good cut. But he kind of made me uncomfortable. He seemed like he was in a really bad mood. At least for $75 in San Francisco, I had a stylist who made conversation. He liked going to Thailand, so we'd talk about that. But Uriel, after asking me a few questions, just got busy with his shears, and gave me an amazing haircut, but not much conversation.

When it came time for my next cut, I just took a chance and went back to Club Creativo without an appointment. If Uriel was there and available, I'd go with him, but I didn't think I owed him any allegience.

He wasn't there, and I got another guy who also gave me an amazing haircut. When I say amazing, I mean that they use their shears like Edward Scissorshand. They snip and trim and snip and cut into the hair so that it not only lays right immediately after they cut it, but also grows in nicely. It was for that reason, that I was able to go without another haircut until today. I could have gone longer, but I didn't want to have to get my hair cut as soon as I got home. Instead, I wanted another cut that would grow in.

Men's haircuts here are varied. There are some guys with short hair (mostly gay), but not many. Most guys have long hair, and many guys have stuff going on in the back which I believe is still taboo in most parts of the US. I'm talking mullets, tails, shags, etc. I really like them. These are not your redneck, pickup truck, confederate flag kind of mullets. They look really cute. When I asked my former stylist, Brian, who studied psychology and stopped cutting hair, to cut my hair short in front and long in the back, he refused, saying, "I'm not giving you a mullet". So, here, I am very happy that I don't even have to ask, but automatically, my hair in the back stays long.

Well, anyway, today I went back to Club Creativo, again without an appointment. Uriel was not there, and his station looked very clean. I wondered if he didn't work there anymore. I saw the guy who cut my hair last time, but I didn't know his name and he didn't give me his card, so I felt less of an obligation with him than I did with Uriel. Still, I was glad that it looked like he would be cutting my hair.

The shampoo girl came and got me and brought me to the sinks where she introduced me to another woman who she said would be cutting my hair. The woman got up and leaned in for a kiss (for some reason I didn't kiss the guys before).

What amazed me was that this was the third stylist I've had there and again I got a great haircut. I was unable to really explain what I wanted, but she seemed to know instinctively. She built from the haircut I had previously and left the hair in the back longer as I wanted. And the best part was it only cost me about $14 or less.

I am going to miss cheap, good haircuts (even when I pay $75 I am not always satisfied, which is why I started going to cheap barbers).

From there I went to the gym for a bit, but it was too hot to work out. I then went to my favorite restaurant, La Cholita, which is a parilla, but is very informal and has a kind of hip feel to it. They have newsprint on the tables and a basket of crayons. I got a choripan, which would have been better if I hadn't tried to eat all of the bread and just ate the chorizo.

I came home and stopped at the fish store a block away and got a nice piece of salmon. I've been eating more salmon lately. I wish I had started sooner. The salmon here is great. It is wild Pacific salmon from Chile. It doesn't have that fishy taste that salmon sometimes has. I've been buying pretty big pieces, frying them and seasoning them with chile, soy sauce, cilantro and garlic. I then put the leftovers in the fridge and eat it for several days. It is great (next year I will be two blocks away from a good seafood shop).

I then went to my local corner fruit stand (pictured above) and got a half kilo of cherries. As we get closer to summer (with this heat, I still can't believe it is not summer), more and more fruits make their appearances. Cherries arrived a few weeks ago and I have been eating several kilos per week. They are really good. I usually don't like to buy cherries in the states because they are expensive and either they are sour or rotten. These cherries are really nice. They have great flavor and 95% of them are edible and really good. I also got some apricots, which are really small, but looked so beautiful with this nice pink blush (they are not as good as the cherries, but I'm not a huge apricot fan). I learned that they are called "damascos", which I didn't know. I think it is interesting, since they are probably named after Damascus, Syria. I picked up some peaches too.

The fruit here is very good. Reading other blogs, I've noticed it is something that other people comment on. I think there are probably a lot of farms in Argentina that grow more than just meat. I imagine that most of the produce is local, since imports don't seem to be big here. While we might have Chilean peaches in February that are picked while still green so they don't bruise on the long flight to the US, Argentines (like the Japanese) are limited to what is in season. But since it is locally grown, it is left to ripen longer, and when it arrives in the stores, it tastes like it is supposed to. I really like my corner fruit vendor and regret that I have not been going there more. I was feeling shy about speaking Spanish and didn't know how to ask for things (I have since learned), so instead I got most of my fruit at the Disco, where it is not as good.

So, as I count down the final days here, I am glad to be finding some things about Buenos Aires that I am going to miss. In San Francisco, there will be a lot of things that I will be happy to return to, but I will be sorry to leave behind good, cheap haircuts, wonderful local fruit and choripan!

Floggers, Chetos, and all of that stuff

2008-12-18T17:51:00.002-02:00

One of the more interesting experiences for me was finding out about the world of urban tribes. I will have to find out if this phenomena exists in the US. Floggers, in particular, seem to be a real Argentine thing.

So, what is a flogger?

A flogger is a person (usually an adolescent) who posts pictures to a foto log. A foto log is like a blog, but with only photos. And that's it.

I did find Cumbio's flog. Now that I know she is a girl, she is looking pretty butch to me. There is a link to a picture of her "novia" or girlfriend, so I am wondering about her sexuality (not that there is anything wrong with that). It amazes me that by simply posting pictures of herself and her friends online, she has been transformed into a celebrity and even has a book that she wrote!

Here is the link to her flog.

The Massage I Needed

2008-12-18T17:26:00.003-02:00

I just came back from the spa and I feel incredible. I booked a simple massage and steam which costs 120 pesos. At the current exchange rate of about 3.46 pesos to the dollar (more or less) that cost me about $35 USD. I could have booked 10 massages for what I paid to have my aura cleansed last week at the Faena Hotel and Universe!

Today I had a new guy who looked like he might have been either Brazilian or maybe Colombian or Venezuelan. He didn't look Argentine because he was black. Argentina conveniently disposed of all remnants of Africans in their populace sometime last century. Rumor has it that they were sent off to fight in a war against Paraguay, but that doesn't explain what happened to the women and children. I suspect a little hidden genocide there that is not being talked about.

Anyway, this guy, who never introduced himself (I later found out his name was Leiban or something like that) gave me the massage I needed. He asked if I liked it strong and I said yes. He beat the shit out of me!

I know some people do not like strong massages. They like the feeling of smooth hands gliding over their skin, just tickling the surface. Nothing drives me crazier than that. I hate massages that seem like they are going to get deep and do not. With Leiban, this was not a problem. He used his elbows and dug into my muscles, he beat me, slapped me, and practically laid on top of me. I was breathing heavily, moaning, panting, clutching the sides of the table, scrunching my face in pain - - - it was wonderful! Leiban succeeded where the pranic healer last week didn't. He not only cleared the angustia from my aura, he got it out from under my skin. I was tired, depressed and achy when I went in for my treatment. I felt like I had been resurrected when I walked out.

It was so good I scheduled another massage with him next Wednesday, and the following Monday. He is only there Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and I wanted to get as many sessions in with him as I could. I'm sure Diane will go with me and get her own treatments. I'm pretty sure she won't mind that I booked Leiban for myself and left her to get whoever else is available. I doubt that she wants to be beaten up on the massage table.

I'm now having a cuba libre (rum and coke). I bought a bottle of rum at the Disco last week as an impulse. I had mint and limes and thought I'd make mojitos. I made some the other day when Hernan came to visit, but they are quite messy. Rum and coke is simpler and cleaner (you don't have mint all over the place when you are done).

An update from yesterday on the book I bought. Turns out Cumbio is a girl. Her name was Agustina or something like that, and she changed it to Cumbio when she became a flogger. It was an act of gender-defiance. Her pictures did look a little fem, but that is not unusual for boy floggers. I love the book! It is very sweet, and makes me laugh. So far I've read only about how she got started flogging. I will search for her flog and post a link if I find it.

3 more days until Diane arrives and a little over a week until I go back to SF. Now that I've had my angustia removed, I hope I can enjoy this remaining time here, in spite of the scorching temperatures!

Countdown

2008-12-17T17:19:00.004-02:00

I've officially been here too long. I am bored beyond belief. I believe extremes in emotion are doorways to transcendance. Therefore I hope I am on the verge of enlightenment. Otherwise, I don't know if I will survive the next few days.

Well, it isn't that bad, but it is pretty bad. Now that my language classes are finished, I have absolutely nothing to do. And to make it worse, even my Spanish teacher canceled our class tomorrow. Hernan has a friend visiting from Canada and he is tied up with her, and it is too damn hot outside to do much of anything that requires any walking.

Today I had to get up and get out early because Norma was coming to clean. I didn't want to get trapped. I pushed my luck, and as I was just about to leave, I heard the keys in the door.

"Hola", and then she began speaking (in Spanish) - 'oh you have only one more week I won't see you when you leave unless you want me to come here and say good-bye or we can just leave notes, I was talking to Ralf yesterday and I told him my client was going to rent an apartment with a beautiful terrace, I had a cup of coffee Colombian coffee, it smelled so good and the taste was so smooth, it was Colombian coffee, do you know Colombian coffee? How are you going to pass the holidays? Will you be here? My husband has to work until 9 p.m. on Christmas, so I will just spend it on my terrace with my kids. It is too difficult to go out, but for New Years we will go out. On Christmas I will just be on the terrace. I don't want anything complicated. I will wait until my husband returns from work....."

She said a lot more, but that is all I understood, more or less. I don't think she breathes. I was standing there with the door open and one foot in the hallway. Finally, she let me go.

I went to the gym where it was too hot to work out. I've been feeling like I might be on the verge of another meniere's attack again. I think it is stress, the fact that I have been eating too much salt, and this pain in my neck that just will not go away. I need to make a list of all of my ailments so that when I see my doctor in San Francisco, I can be sure to talk to him about everything that is bothering me.

I didn't stay long at the gym and knew I could not come home before noon. So I walked down hot and crowded Santa Fe and stopped in a bookstore to buy a book called "Yo Cumbio", which is written by Argentina's most famous flogger. A 17 year old boy, whose nickname is "Cumbio". I started reading it and am still amazed by the flogging phenomena (flogging = foto log = kids take pictures of themselves, post them on a foto log, other kids leave comments like "you are divine" and those who receive the most comments are transformed into superstars). It is wild. Now when I look in the shop windows on Santa Fe all I see are flogger fashions. I don't think I could ever be a flogger, but I wonder about Hernan. He was always taking pictures of himself in Buzios.

From there I went to El Ateneo, a wonderful bookstore on Santa Fe that used to be an opera house. It is one of those places you take visitors to impress them. It's also a nice bookstore. I posted a photo from the web until I can take my own.

There is a small cafe in the back, where the stage used to be. I stopped and had a coke and the air-conditioning was on and nice and cool. Now I know it is a place to duck in out of the heat. I then went and bought a Thai cookbook for Hernan for Christmas.

I came home and thankfully, Norma was gone.

I played on the computer for a bit until I started to get hungry. Even though I have some salmon and some tofu and vegetables in the refrigerator, I got a craving for pizza. I ordered a pizza and a calzone from Romario online, without having to talk to anyone. It was very easy, and one of the many ways I avoid speaking Spanish. My pizza came and somehow I got two pizzas - no calzone. Oh well, they were small, so I ate one while watching a movie and put the other one in the fridge for later.

Then I took a nap.

It is now 5:45 and I've wasted another day.

My friend Diane arrives on Monday. I have a few more days to keep myself entertained until then. Fortunately, I do have some editorial work to do and that helps me pass some time, but otherwise I have no idea what to do with myself.

Based on my ideas of what I thought I would accomplish on this trip, I have to say that I am feeling like a failure. I stopped tango dancing, my language exchanges didn't work out, and my attempts to meet people by studying languages other than Spanish also were a flop. I only hope that next year my health will not be such an issue, the weather will allow me to get out more, and I will meet some people to spend time with.

I guess it's time to watch "Everybody Loves Raymond".

Hell on Wheels

2008-12-14T11:30:00.002-02:00

I decided to forgive Hernan for the mixup the other night. Even though I believe he was responsible (mostly) for it, I can't be sure that it was intentional (like he got a better offer at the last minute) and am more inclined to believe it was a result of his being so distracted and unable to focus clearly on life. He probably didn't connect my first text of the day "I have a lot of food" with our conversation about him coming over later. He was saying he was coming for a beer. I was assuming he was coming for dinner. The more I think about it, I WAS unclear. Being mad at him was making me feel bad and was not solving anything. I now know I need to be really clear with him, almost as if I were talking to a child.

On Friday, after I got back from the crazy city Buenos Aires had become, I don't remember exactly what I did, but eventually I took a much needed nap. I woke up feeling exhausted. Between the pranic healing and walking forever before finding a taxi (and being slightly panicked about it), and being mad at Hernan and feeling bad about Thursday night, I was drained. I woke up from the nap hearing a message on my answering machine. It was Hernan.

He sounded sad. I couldn't understand most of the message. I heard "ufa", I heard, "locura en las calles" (it is crazy in the streets), and even though I didn't understand the words, I heard that he wanted things to be ok between us. Then I looked at my cell phone and had several messages and a few other missed calls from him. One message said "it was a sad day, but even more if you are mad at me".

I took a while to wake up and didn't call him back, but when the phone rang again, I answered it. Of course it was Hernan (no one else calls me).

He asked if I was mad, and I told him yes, but that was not why I didn't answer his messages. I actually hadn't seen the messages until right before he called. He didn't exactly apologize, but said it was a misunderstanding. He said he hadn't received my response to his text saying I was at home, and when he called and I wasn't here, he didn't want to come here and find me not at home. Again, not connecting the dots. But could I be angry at him for not being in a state of mind where he could do that?

He offered to come by then, but it was nearly 10 p.m., and I told him it was too late. I left it as our first step towards repairing our friendship.

Yesterday after going to the gym, I had a long skype call with my co-authors in Arizona. I just love skype! We got a lot of work done, but I was drained afterwards. I wanted to do something different and had a lot of food still (plus more I bought yesterday to go along with everything I bought in Chinatown). I texted Hernan to see how he was and he called me back.

He was on his way back from his mother's in a remise (a private taxi) with his computer. This was his baby. He is preparing to put down some roots in San Telmo for a few weeks because a friend from Canada is coming to visit. I think this will be good for him - both the visit and having roots.

He invited me over for dinner before I could invite him here.

I thought about bringing everything that was in my refrigerator, but instead just bought what was left of the black rice and coconut milk and a mango I got in Chinatown.

He made an attempt to recreate the dish we had when we went to Chinatown a few months ago, which was a claypot dish with chicken and "three flavors" - garlic, ginger and soy sauce. It was pretty good, and I think better than what we had in Chinatown (I thought their version was too salty). He had a huge mango that was very ripe, almost to the point of being rotten. I thought it was over-ripe, but he disagreed. He put it in the pot with the chicken. That was a little strange. I think it would have been good added at the end, but not cooked.

Afterwards we ate the black rice with cocnut milk and mango.

I stayed for about 3 hours and left. I was still feeling tired. Now that he has his computer, which has a program for him to play DJ, he was totally obsessed with playing music. He had the music pumped up really loud and it was hard to talk. He told me he is in danger of losing his house. He owes 1200 pesos (about 400 dollars) for something, and lawyers are beginning to take steps to foreclose (my interpretation) and put his apartment up for auction. He said he was worried yesterday but since lawyers take all of January off, he still has some time and today he is not as worried. I was wondering why he doesn't try to find a job.

I feel sorry for Hernan. As I sat and watched him play music, which he loves, and he is much better than the DJ in the library bar at the Faena Hotel and Universe, and show me pictures that he has taken, I saw how talented he is. But for some reason, he is unable to find a path in life that will bring him satisfaction and also pay the bills. He seems like he is adrift at sea and doesn't know how to get the motor running. I feel lucky that I have a job that I love and also provides me a comfortable life. Sometimes I don't want to go to work, but after 5 months of being here and not having to work, I am really looking foward to returning. Work provides a lot to me besides money. I have friends I work with and I love my students and get a lot of satisfaction out of feeling like I am helping them and feeling appreciated by them.

Hernan seemed a little concerned about me going out to catch a taxi, which worried me. He was going to call a radio taxi for me. I thought I'd have no problem finding one. In fact it was not as easy as I had thought. I had to walk a few blocks in San Telmo towards Plaza de Mayo before I finally hailed down a cab.

I told the driver in my best Spanish "Arenales y Azcuenaga" and he sped off towards 9 de Julio. It was after midnight on a Friday night and the city was still very much alive, but the roads were not as crowded as during the mid-day crazies. Still, the roads had traffic. But my taxi driver seemed like he was in a very real hurry to get me home. He sped down 9 de Julio stopping abruptly at the red lights that we hit, which sent the bag I had sitting on the seat flying several times. He was listening to a cumbia radio station which was mostly commercials. Those loud commercials that are advertising the latest places to go and get lucky. I heard them say only 15 pesos for men (I didn't catch how much women had to pay, but maybe the ladies get in free). He seemed different from most taxi drivers I have had. Usually they listen to talk radio, but this guy seemed like he was on speed and was ready to go dancing.

He continued speeding down 9 de Julio, honking at anyone or anything that got in his way, and not just a little tap on the horn "be-be" kind of thing, but a serious, get the hell out of my way m-f-er kind of thing BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was feeling like I would be better off walking.

Finally I saw that he was going to turn off of 9 de Julio, thinking foolishly that we were at Arenales, I saw that he was turning on to Cordoba. He was sticking to the large, wide avenues so that he could continue speeding.

A cumbia song came on the radio in the midst of all of the commercials, and I tried to distract myself by listening to the music.

I was thinking of how lucky I am that I can blend in here. Even though I hadn't said much I was pretty sure that this driver, like most, thought I was from here, and that gave me some comfort. Last year my classmate Mike had a problem with a taxi driver when he gave him a 100 peso note and the driver said he had only given him 20. Mike's Spanish was really good, but physically, he was unmistakenly foreign. There was no way he could pass for an Argentine. I felt comforted with the fact that in all of my dealings with taxi drivers I had never been ripped off.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPP!!!!

We whizzed down Cordoba past where we should have turned to get me to Azcuenaga and Arenales, but I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to blow my cover. So what if I had to pay a few extra pesos. I was afraid he was going to go to the next avenue, which was Puerrydon, but instead he turned on to Larrea, which is one block past Azcuenaga. Ok, not a problem.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPP!!!!!

He blew his nose without a tissue out the window.

This guy was really starting to bug me. I was ready to get out and walk.

Finally, as we pulled up to Santa Fe, he asked if it would be ok to let me off at Arenales and Larrea. I told him Larrea and Berruti, since that was only one block from my apartment.

And then he said, in English, "where are you from?"

Damn!

I don't know what gave it away. Maybe my whole fantasy about me blending in here was just that - fantasy. Maybe I am totally obviously a foreigner, walking around in my shorts with the confused expression on my face and my Spanish that is not really as good as people say it is. Or was it because I didn't roll my 'rr' when I said Larrea? Somehow, this guy had figured out I was not from here. It made me like him even less. In addition to the nose blowing without a tissue, the speeding, the obnoxious beeping, he had the nerve to point out that he knew I was not a porteno.

Angustia

2008-12-12T16:21:00.006-02:00

One of my favorite words in Spanish has become "lamentablemente". I started to like it when I was in the Dominican Republic this past summer. I heard it used a lot on the radio talk shows we listened to when my tour guide was driving me around. For me, it's easy to pronounce, even though it has a lot of syllables, and for that I like it. It means something like "regrettably", but I like the "lament" part, it sounds very poetic.

I think I must be drawn to suffering, because today I realized another word I like is "angustia". Last year I asked Hernan, "what is tango?", because I was always under the impression that "tango" was a dance only. Yet in my Spanish classes, we would listen to "tangos" and read and discuss the lyrics. I didn't even realize the songs had words. It seemed to me that my Spanish teachers were not as interested in the dance as they were in the lyrics as a sort of literary treasure of Argentina. Tango lyrics have actually influenced the Spanish that is spoken in Buenos Aires and there is a whole tango subculture that is filled with much more than dance.

So, in response to my question, Hernan said, without thinking, "it is angustia".

I translate "angustia" as anguish, but my Spanish dictionary has other definitions - affliction, anxiety, oppressive fear without exact cause, tightness, pain, suffering, nausea. Pretty heavy stuff. I like it because I like the combination of sounds - ahn-GUS-ti-a.

Yesterday Leo wanted me to tell him a story. I couldn't think of anything but one of my favorite stories from Eat, Pray, Love. Liz is talking with one of her conversation exchange partners and he tells her that every city has its own word - that word is what most of the people are thinking about most of the time. He said that the word for Rome was "sex" and for the Vatican, "power". He said that if your own personal word does not match the city's word, then that is not the place for you to live.

I think San Francisco and I have the same word, but I am not sure what that is. I think it something like "personal freedom" or "compassion" or "food".

So, I told Leo the story and then asked him, like I asked Hernan, what the word for Buenos Aires was. He said he didn't know, but asked me what I thought. I told him it was "tango". It seems pretty obvious that it would be, because that is what Buenos Aires is known for, but I meant tango in the deeper sense of the word, tango as it represents the fusion of many different cultures, influences, musical styles, tango as a complex expression of life, tango as a way of being that involves moving around obstacles gracefully, tango as anguish.

Today I had my treatments at the spa at the Faena Hotel and Universe. I was debating on whether to just take a cab, or take the subte to Catedral and then a cab from there. I went for the subway.

When I went down the stairs to Puerrydon, the ticket booth was dark, and it was clear that the turnstiles were not taking tickets. I walked through, thinking I was lucky to get a free ride (they do that from time to time, like when there is no change, or the ticket takers don't want to come to work). When I got to the platform, it was packed. It was clear to me that something was going on, and I didn't want to risk being late for my treatment at the spa, so I went back up to the street and got a cab.

It was difficult. All of the cabs were full. The guy I finally got took me on a scenic route of Buenos Aires to get to Puerto Madero. I was really tense by the time I finally got to the hotel.

The spa was of course very luxurious. It is on the second floor (actually the first floor the way they count floors here) of the hotel. I went up a mirrored and silver plated elevator and walked across a little mirrored and silver bridge to get to the spa. They were waiting for me.

I changed into the big fluffy bathrobe and had my deep tissue massage first.

I was feeling very discombobulated. I hadn't slept well because I kept thinking about the mix up with Hernan (which to me was more than a misunderstanding and I was hurt and angry), I stayed up late, I woke up late, and after the subte and taxi situations, I was really feeling off-balance. I really needed a massage.

The massage was good. I was thinking that I was going to cry.

I've heard sometimes that really good body work releases emotions. I actually imagined myself having a total breakdown, like screaming crying, and I imagined myself feeling completely spent, and cleansed when it was over.

It didn't happen. Instead my nose started running because I have morning allergies and I was mouth down on the massage table.

When my massage was finished I took a shower and went back and sat in the "relaxation room" which I thought was quite sterile and cold and not very relaxing at all. There were two silver chairs, a little table with a pitcher of water and some glasses and nothing else. The walls and floors were light gray marble.

A very waifish looking woman who sort of walked like a pixie came out from behind one of the glass doors and asked me if everything was ok. I told her I was fine. She floated out of the room through another door like a ballet dancer. I thought she was a bit odd.

The woman who checked me in, peeked in and asked me if I was ok. I told her I was. She asked me if I wanted to go sit in the relaxation room. I told her I thought I was already doing that.

I followed her through another set of glass doors and found myself in a darker space with rows of lounge chairs, some juice, fruit and nuts and some more doors. She told me there was the hammam (steam room) and dry sauna. I was welcomed to use both. I had my eye on the fruit and juice.

I helped myself to some juice which turned out to be mint tea, and some fruit and then sat in the hammam for a bit. It was very hot. More marble, which was very hot to sit on, and blue mood lighting. It was lovely and I was glad I had it to myself.

I got hot really fast and didn't want to be all sweaty for my pranic healing, so I put my big fluffy robe back on and went out and sat on one of the lounge chairs, helping myself to more tea.

Soon, a new woman was greeting me and escorting me to one of the treatment rooms. She said she was going to cleanse my aura using crystals. She asked if I had any pain. I told her my whole body was in pain, which is true. I have neck pain that comes and goes, my hips hurt, I feel like I have sciatica, and my feet hurt from the plantar facitis. I also told her about the meniere's. She said she would cleanse my energy body which would help my physical body.

I lay down on the table and closed my eyes and followed her directions to breathe in and out. I felt myself begin to relax. I felt moments of skepticism. Since she was not going to touch me and told me not to open my eyes, she could have been sitting there reading People en Español for all I knew. But I decided instead to trust that for the money I was paying, I was going to get a real energy cleansing.

I started to feel my physical body lighten up, become lighter. I felt like I was floating until I started to pay attention to the feeling too much and felt myself back on the table. I felt something where my sciatic nerve was hurting me, the pain became more intense, then I felt something in my stomach. Sensations and awareness of different body parts came and went, until I found myself becoming very aware of the fact that I was sort of snoring.

I have sleep apnea (on top of everything else) and when I lay on my back, it is the worst. In this half state of waking/sleeping, I was aware of moments when my lips would burst open from a puff of air. I don't know what that was about, but I've felt it before. It might be the apnea, which is basically me suffocating for a second or two before I wake up and start breathing again. It's lovely and leaves me waking up every morning feeling totally unrefreshed and cranky.

The last part of the treatment was me floating in this state between waking and dreaming, trying to maintain my deep state of relaxation while trying not to snore or suffocate. Eventually, I woke up completely and started to feel restless. The treatment ended right at that point.

The woman who worked on me told me my aura was filled with "angustia". She said it was not deep, not like a depression, but it was angustia.

I knew.

I was thinking that Buenos Aires is filled with angustia, and from the first week I arrived I began to sense it, I began to see it, it began to invade the cells of my body, and today I was feeling it. But after the treatment, no more.

I decided to walk to the subte, again deciding against a taxi (there was one right outside of the hotel).

I walked along the canal in Puerto Madero, debating whether or not to stop and get lunch. It was a nice day, not too hot and there were a lot of restaurants with tables set outside. But I wanted to get home. I had so much food in my refrigerator.

I walked too far and found myself at Buquebus, which is basically the end of Buenos Aires, so I had to walk back and try to get to Plaza de Mayo. I really walked alot. I went down the stairs to the subte, and the platform was full. It was hot, it was crowded. I didn't want to wait and get on a super crowded train full of anguished passengers, so I went up to the street and tried to find a cab. It was impossible.

I walked down Diagonal Norte looking for a cab, but they were all full. I walked to 9 de Julio and all the cabs were full. I walked down 9 de Julio to Cordoba, trying in vain to get a cab. They were all full.

The city was crazy (since I was in the microcentro, it was not surprising). Traffic was a mess, busses spewed black smoke as they rumbled around aggressively, homeless people sat on the sides of the sidewalks, some smelling very bad, people were walking in all directions, every third one of them smoking a cigarette, I was feeling stressed, hot, tired and wanting desperately to get home. I didn't want to have to walk all the way. I couldn't find a cab. I didn't see any other options.

Every time I'd stop and try to flag down a cab, someone would step out on the street in front of me and try. I knew that if there were any cabs to be had, they would get it first and then I'd be mad. I was feeling very frustrated and continued walking, getting closer and closer to home (but still far away).

Finally, a little old cab that was not a radio taxi pulled up to let someone out. I was standing in front of a hotel in the sun. The woman in the cab took forever to pay, gather her things and get out of the cab, turning to look in one more time to see if she'd left anything. I was ready to push her out of the way, but I still had some self-control.

Before I even started to get in, the driver asked me where I was going and told him Arenales and Azcuenaga. He then said, "get in" sort of impatiently, as if he'd been waiting 5 minutes for me to get in.

This cab was not the kind of cab I normally take. Usually I only take radio taxis because that is what people told me to do. And I avoid taxis that look like they will break down any minute. If I can, I avoid really old drivers. Today I had no choice.

This guy was old, his cab was old, and it was not a radio taxi. He didn't have the air-conditioning on (if he even had any), and I had to open the window for air, which was basically exhaust fumes. We putt-putted down 9 de Julio towards Arenales. He sort of drove between the lanes, not actually in one or another but swerving back and forth, as if his steering wheel didn't really work very well.

I said, "there are no taxis today".

He said, "yes there are".

I said, "there is a problem in the subte. I don't know what is happening".

He said, "si señor"

His response was one of those sing-songy responses that someone makes when they feel your pain. It reminded me of something I'd heard about some Eastern European cultures where people build rapport through shared suffering. One person will say, "oy, my arthritis is really hurting today", to which the other will respond, "I know what you mean, my hemmaroids are killing me, I can hardly sit", and voila! instant rapport. To outsiders it sounds like complaining, but actually it is a way of bringing people closer together.

The driver's "si señor" was a lament. It was a singing acknowledgement of the difficulty of life in Buenos Aires. It was anguish. We shared it.

I understood what Hernan told me last week about life here sometimes being too much - the blackouts because there isn't enough electricity, the strikes and protests and street closings, all contributing to him finally having to take anti-depressants.

As my taxi putt-putted down Arenales towards my much quieter, more comfortable "home" I thought about what seemed like a total breakdown in Buenos Aires. People are so frustrated that they are beginning to simply stop cooperating. Teachers, subway workers, senior citizens and just about every other group express their frustrations by disrupting life as normal. When the war in Iraq started, that happened in San Francisco. It had to. That was the only way anyone would pay attention to was happening. An illegal and immoral war was being started by an incompetent and illegitimate president and his cronies. Life as normal had to be disrupted for people to take notice. Yet no one did.

Here, the disruptions of life as normal have unfortunately, or lamentablemente, become life as normal, causing only more frustration.

As drivers honked their horns at each other and smokers blew their smoke in the faces of those standing next to them in this crowded, noisy, smoky, dirty city, I began to feel a sense of relief that I would be going home soon.

I hope I'll be leaving the anguish behind.

Stood Up by my Ex-Fake Boyfriend

2008-12-12T09:07:00.003-02:00

During my Spanish lesson yesterday Hernan called. I didn't answer the phone because I didn't want to interrupt my lesson. Also I had told Hernan I had my lesson in the afternoon. When I did check my message, he said something about coming over. It was hard to hear as he was calling from the street. I called him back as I went to the produce market and the meat store, but as I was on the street, it was also hard to hear. All I heard was something about me being home. I told him I would be home.

It is very difficult to find limes here. Sometimes my Disco has them, and sometimes the little produce stand on the corner has them. I went to buy some limes because I bought all of this stuff in Chinatown and decided I was going to try to make Laab Gai, a Thai dish from northern Thailand and Laos, that is usually very spicy and really yummy. It is made from ground chicken, chilis, shallots, mint, coriander, lime juice and fish sauce. I had all of the ingredients except the ground chicken, the limes and the fish sauce (but was going to substitute soy sauce).

I asked Leo in my lesson about buying ground chicken. I wasn't sure how to ask for it. He said it was strange and didn't think I could find it in Argentina, but told me how I could ask to see if they would pass chicken through the meat grinder.

The produce store only had a few limes and most of them were hard. They were also expensive 1.25 pesos each. The girl who was helping me sold me three. It was nice that she didn't sell me the ones that were hard and dried up.

Next, I went to the meat guy next door. He had two chicken breasts. I asked him if he could put them through the meat grinder and he said no, but he could cut them with a knife. He cut the two breasts into little cubes with his very sharp knife and as far as I know, he didn't charge me (for the extra cutting).

Hernan had said something about having a beer, but as I sat there thinking about my laab gai, and the black rice I was making with coconut milk, and the asparagus I bought yesterday, and then I realized I had tofu from Chinatown, I realized I had a TON of food that I could not eat myself. I sent him a text and told him I had a lot of food.

Sometime during the evening we had arranged for him to come over for dinner. At 8:30, he sent me a text saying "I will pass by there around 9:30, ok?", I responded, "si"

I went to the Disco to buy cabbage, because the laab, which is kind of a salad and can be eaten cold, is best when put inside cabbage leaves or eaten with rice.

I got home and set about finishing up preparing dinner. The laab was done and in the refrigerator cooling, as was the black rice with coconut milk. I sliced some tofu and chopped up some ginger and put the tofu on a plate with soy sauce, sesame oil, green onions and ginger, and put it in the refrigerator to cool. This was one of my favorite things to eat in Japan when it was hot.

I stir fried the asaparagus with garlic, ginger and soy sauce. Everything was ready and I was hungry.

And there was no Hernan.

I waited until 10 before I started to get impatient. He normally is pretty prompt. He had said something about his apartment being a disaster (since most of his clothes are at his mother's, I am always amazed at how he can make such a big mess out of so little), so I thought either he was late getting out or perhaps had taken a marathon nap. At 10:05, I sent him a text saying "wake up". I didn't hear back from him, so thinking he was sleeping, I called him. There was no answer. I left a voice mail saying dinner was ready and I had a skype call at 11:30, so I had very little time. No response. At 10:30, I sent him another text saying "now I am worried". Finally, he texted me saying, he was watching a "peli" (short for pelicula - movie) with a friend. His message said, "I sent you a message 8:30, I am watching a movie with a friend. Tomorrow I am getting up very early, another casting. Kiss."

I was very confused. I saw that I had a message on my answering machine, so I listened to it but didn't understand it. It sounded like he said he was coming by, but then said something about calling his house and seeing him tomorrow.

I checked my text messages and saw that indeed he had texted me at 8:30 and said, "I'll pass by around 9:30, okay?" to which I had responded "si". Somewhere, something was lost in translation and here I was at 10:30 with a ton of food and no dinner in my stomach, which put me in a very foul mood.

I sent Hernan one more text and told him what he had said in his message at 8:30, adding, "I guess I don't understand Spanish".

I didn't answer the phone when he called, but he said he called me to see if I was home and I wasn't so he didn't want to come by and not have me be here. I thought that was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. Every communication I had had with him was about him coming over, and I don't know when he called (probably when I was at the Disco), but at some point between 8:30 and 9:30 he got the idea that I was out on the town!

So I ate.

Dinner was good. The laab really does need fish sauce. Soy sauce is too strong in flavor and doesn't add the light saltiness that fish sauce does. It also needed more lime and could have used more chili (since I was making it for a delicate Argentine palate, I only put two chilis). The tofu was great, and I ate the tofu I had prepared for me and Hernan. The asaparagus was also really good, but I put most of it in the refrigerator for later. But best of all was the black rice with cocunut milk, which was my desert. It was delicious.

Hernan doesn't know what he missed out on.

I Have Spanish PTSD

2008-12-11T17:07:00.002-02:00

Leo, my Spanish teacher came by today for our usual Thursday lesson. I don't know if it is the time of day, or the fact that I know I am going to be put on the spot speaking Spanish for two hours, but every time he comes I suddenly feel a drain of energy. I've gotten into the habit of making a pot of coffee - some for me, and I offer him a cup as well. It is nice to sit and chat in my living room drinking coffee, if only it weren't so stressful!

Last time we met I made a comment to Leo about my Spanish ability. In spite of the fact that he corrects me after every third word (that is what it feels like), he continually tells me my Spanish is almost perfect. I don't believe him, because he is always correcting me. Last time we met, I was complaining about not being able to express myself or something and he said I must have some trauma.

In Buzios, Hernan and I communicated mostly in Spanish. I felt very uncomfortable talking to him in Spanish because not only did he correct me every time I made a mistake, often he'd roll his eyes. Even though when he speaks English he says things like "I want to go there for to buy blah blah blah" and I've told him he doesn't need to say "for to", he continues to make the same mistake. I don't roll my eyes and I don't correct him because I understand what he means and I realize he is not going to change. Yet, when I was talking about someone sleeping, and I said, "estan dormiendo", he immediately corrected me, "estan durmiendo" - the verb dormir is one of those crazy verbs that changes the stem at some odd, irregular place. Well, I have been saying "dormiendo" and "durmiendo", and I'll be damned if I can hear the difference. When Hernan corrected me, I said, "did you understand what I was saying?" and he said yes, and then I said, "so why is it important?"

The fact is I don't mind having errors pointed out if it is something that I clearly don't understand, or if it is something that completely obscures the point I am trying to get across, but I really don't like it when I am constantly interrupted, or laughed at or am having someone's eyes rolled at me. Leo is right. I do have trauma.

When I first began to study Spanish after the three useless years of High School Spanish where I learned to ask if Susana was at home (and not much more), I studied at a small school in Philadelphia called the Spanish Language School. The director, Antonio, was from Mexico, and his method was something that was used by the US Military, or CIA, or to train diplomats. It was one of those courses that supposedly you'd be speaking like a native after 6 months. The premise of this method was that errors were bad and needed to be corrected immediately in order to avoid formation of bad habits. The other teachers were not as severe, but Antonio was murder. He would not let a syllable pass that was not perfectly formed and annunciated. As a result, my pronunciation is pretty good, but I live in morbid fear of making mistakes.

So today as I was trying to tell Leo about my trip to Buzios and I was having a really hard time differentiating between the two pasts tenses in Spanish (to our one), and kept making mistakes, I got really frustrated. I told Leo that I thought I did have trauma. I told him how I was unable to communicate with Hernan last week and how I felt frustrated at not being able to express myself. He corrected every fourth word and then told me that I hardly make any mistakes at all.

I really like studying with him, and today he helped to clarify some of the things that confuse me. I asked him some questions to try to avoid having to talk, but eventually he caught on and began making me talk. By the end of the lesson I felt more confident with the two past tenses with the definite and indefinite pronouns and with Spanish in general, but I think it will be a while before the trauma of those days spent with Antonio saying, "no, stop, repeat!" in that basement in Philadelphia will be healed.

Shopping Frenzy in Barrio Chino

2008-12-10T15:49:00.003-02:00

Today was my Italian exam that I didn't take. I am now officially finished with my classes. I missed my Arabic exam on Saturday while I was on the beach in Buzios, and today I just didn't want to take an exam that was going to test something we were not taught. Fortunately I don't need it since I am going to study Portuguese next year.

I had to leave the apartment because Norma comes to clean on Wednesday and normally came while I was in class. I didn't want to see her, especially first thing in the morning. But first, I had to do something about the smell of the salmon I cooked last night, which really smoked up the kitchen, and also I had to wash my dishes and put everything away because if she did it, she would put things where she wanted them. Finally, about 9:30 I got out of here and went to the gym.

Fortunately it was cooler today because we had some rain yesterday, but the gym was still hot, mostly because the air-conditioner doesn't really work when all of the windows are open. I am not sure if the intent is to cool down the gym or the neighborhood. Still, since I was trying to kill time, I spent 45 minutes on the eliptical trainer watching "Everybody Loves Raymond" and "Married with Children" reading only the Spanish subtitles. I had my headphones on and was listening to music, and they had the sound turned down on the TVs anyway. It's a good exercise, and I wish I could do it more in the states.

I went to the gym yesterday and did a full body workout, so today there wasn't much I could do. I stretched and did some leg work, but it was crowded and many of the men take up a lot of space, so I kept feeling like I was bumping into people. I left, knowing I still had at least an hour to kill.

I went to a little restaurant called La Madeline or something like that. It's a strange place (I think) because it is narrow and long, and everyone sits facing the door. I didn't want to sit with my back to the restaurant though, so I sat in the first table facing in. Everyone was looking at me, and I was looking at them. We kind of avoided each other's eyes, but it was 'interesting'. I had a cafe cortado (espresso) and a medialuna that was not that good. I stayed there as long as I could and then walked slowly towards my apartment, thinking I might find another place to kill time.

I didn't.

So I headed to Juncal which is one block past my apartment, to the little produce stand on the corner where there is usually a long line of people. I got some yummy cherries that were about $3 per kilo (I got a half kilo), some nice peaches and some basil. Finally, I had no choice, I had to come home.

When I entered the building I thought the fact that the elevator was on the ground floor was a good sign. It meant that someone had left recently. Maybe it was Norma?

But when I got off the elevator on my floor I saw that the bag of trash was not outside of my door on the stairs and knew that Norma was still in my apartment. I thought about going back down, but I was loaded down with fruit and my gym bag. I took a deep breath and opened the door. "Hola?", I said.

Norma talked my ear off for about a half hour. I was so exhausted I eventually had to sit down. She commented on the fact that I like to cook and I smell up the apartment, which is why she had to open the windows. She told me that Ralf told her I was away, she asked about my trip and my health, but mostly she just talked, and talked, and talked. She talked about other tenants, she told me about her kids and her husband and her house outside of the city and her dogs and her duck. She told me how Ralf does not want to give her a raise. She told me that she doesn't like the apartment I am planning on renting next year and that there are many apartments in that area with terraces (the two things I said I liked - the neighborhood and the terrace). She told me she knew I was in town because she can see my window from her window and she saw that my window was open (that is kind of scary that she can see my apartment). She told me to tell Ralf I wanted her to clean my apartment when I come back. She told me that one of the other tenants gave her a plant (a hint?). I don't remember what else she told me, but I was literally drained. Finally, when I knew she was done in the bedroom, I told her I had to check my e-mail. She stayed in the living room and finished up and eventually came to say good-bye. Whew!

After eating a light lunch and watching the Daily Show online, I decided to go to Chinatown. Well, actually I decided earlier, but I finally made the decision firm and left. I wasn't sure where it was exactly, but I had an idea. I got on the subte and looked at the options for stops I could get off that I knew would put me close. The one that seemed to be the right one was Juramento. Right before that was something Hernandez, or something like that. Then there was Olleros, which I knew would put me at a major intersection in Belgrano. I also knew Olleros was too soon. But, as we pulled into Olleros, I decided to get off anyway.

I walked down a lovely avenue with big shady trees and tried to work up the nerve to ask people. I never found anyone who looked like they were ready to be asked for directions, even though as I was walking to the subte, a guy rolled down his window and asked from his car where the Hospital Aleman was. I get asked for directions all the time, but I was nervous about asking someone else. So I walked down this avenue until I reached another one. I thought I had gone too far, so I walked one block and turned back towards the direction from which I had come. I was about to ask a guy who was mopping the steps of an apartment building where Chinatown was, when a woman came across the street. I asked her.

She told me to go straight, cross something and then I'd hit Chinatown. I walked back to the avenue I had just come from, saw stairs going up over the train tracks, and assumed that was what I was supposed to cross. It was getting warm again and I was sweating, and going up and down the stairs didn't help. I then wasn't sure what to do so I asked another woman. She told me I was going in the wrong direction and sent me in a completely different direction.

By now I had broken the ice (on asking directions) so I stopped at a police officer who was standing outside of a kiosk and asked him. He told me to turn right and go three blocks and then make a left.

I did that and found myself on Juramento. I saw a few Chinese shops, but it didn't look like where I had been with Hernan, so I asked another police officer if I was in Chinatown. He said, "no" and smiled slightly. He told me to go to the corner, turn right and it would be "todo chino" (everything Chinese). I thought I detected a bit of condesencion in his voice and wondered what portenos think about the growing number of Chinese in their midst.

So, I went to the corner and turned right and there it was, all of the red and gold paper lanterns, all of the cheap souvenirs, restaurants, and even Chinese people (as well as a lot of tourists). I was back on the street where I had first asked for directions. If I had just continued walking straight as my instincts told me, I would have gotten to Chinatown sooner and less tired.

I found a great Chinese supermarket and went crazy buying things like soy sauce, sesame oil, plum wine, things that I am not sure I will be able to finish before I leave. I only have 3 weeks. But I know Hernan likes this stuff, so if I don't finish it, he'll get the leftovers.

I left one store and then entered another. Buying more stuff. I have fresh mint and cilantro, tofu (which I have not seen in over 4 months), red peper flakes (which have been impossible for me to find), nothing really substantial, but things that made me feel oddly like I was more at home in the Chinese supermarket than I am in the Disco. My sister teases me that I am not Italian but Chinese. Maybe she has a point. I would have bought more, but I was so far from home and couldn't carry everything, even though I was planning on taking a taxi. They had fresh seafood, including fresh prawns (which are impossible to find in this country with an enormously long coastline), they had really nice produce (I did get two mangos), and they had tons of other stuff that I would have bought if I weren't so far from home.

I walked a few blocks and caught a cab with a crabby driver who told me not to put my bags on the seat. It cost me 19 pesos to get home (a little less than $6), and considering I was pretty far from home and there was a lot of traffic, that was a good deal. Now I just need to figure out what I am going to cook with all of the stuff I bought and who is going to eat it!

The Many Faces of Buenos Aires

2008-12-09T10:55:00.004-02:00

Yesterday Lorena and Tess invited me to join them to visit La Boca. It was a holiday. Everything was closed for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. Wow, I can't imagine that in the US.

Anyway, after trying unsuccessfully to drop off my laundry (the lavanderia was closed) and go to the gym (the gym was closed) and watching Beverly Hills 90210 reruns, I was happy to do something different, in spite of the fact that it felt like it was 120 degrees outside.

I met the girls in the subte and we headed off to La Boca.

La Boca is the part of Buenos Aires that you often see on the covers of guide books. There are brightly painted "houses" of many different colors. La Boca was where the Italian immigrants (and others) came in and settled. The houses are painted because it was a tradition in Genoa, or wherever these people came from, to paint their boats bright colors (I saw that in Buzios too). They used the leftover paint to paint their houses which were made of corrugated tin.

Now the rows of brightly painted houses are shops and restaurants and the place has a Disneylandish kind of feel, sort of like Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco. I doubt Argentines go to La Boca. It is geared towards tourists.

It was fun, however, in spite of the scorching, humid weather.

From there, we took a cab to Puerto Madero. It was getting dark, and rumor has it that La Boca is not a place you want to be in after dark. The taxi drove through a section of La Boca that I had never seen before. I understood why it had its reputation. It reminded me of parts of "inner city" Philadelphia (actually north Philly) where blocks and blocks of houses are crumbling and big open lots stand where homes once did. The urban blight in north Philly is there because of the white flight of the 60's as blacks moved up from the south to find work. It is a testament to the destructive power of racism and neglect. I don't know what happened in La Boca though. For a part of the city that is so critical to the identity of Buenos Aires, I don't understand how it could be so run down and seemingly forgotten. I'm going to have to ask Leo, my Spanish tutor, to tell me about it.

Beyond the crumbling buildings of the old part of Buenos Aires where tango was born, and where Maradonna was raised, we passed under the freeway where it seemed we had entered Mexico or Honduras. Small shacks and shanties lined the road that would soon take us to one of the richest and most expensive parts of Buenos Aires - Puerto Madero.

We turned a corner from the squalor and within minutes we were walking along the canal in Puerto Madero, lined with expensive restaurants and posh apartment buildings, with new high rise construction visible everywhere.

It was amazingly hot and there was hardly any breeze at all. It was stifling. People were laying on the benches that lined the canal in the shade trying to escape the heat. I imagined they were people who lived without air conditioning and were trying the best they could to get through this very hot and humid day (I think from here it will only get worse).

Our plan was just to walk the canal and head to the subte to come home and shower and meet again later for dinner. But I remembered that there was this hotel in Puerto Madero called the Faena Hotel and Universe that Lorena wanted to check out and I suggested we go look at the hotel. We had looked at photos online and it looked incredible.

The hotel is located in an old brick building that is supposed to be an "English style silo". I think the guide book might have a different idea of a silo than we do. The building itself fits right in with the rest of Puerto Madero - there are old brick buildings lining the canal and some brick apartment buildings.

I was a little intimidated walking past all of the porters and folks standing outside of the door as I was wearing shorts, sneakers, a sleeveless shirt and was really hot and sweaty from spending the day in grimy La Boca. I once tried to enter the Oriental Hotel in Bangkok in sandals and they wouldn't let me. I totally expeced us to be turned away, but luckily, some heavily perfumed guests were just leaving the hotel as we got to the narrow doorway and they asked about a taxi, distracting the man in the white cape standing outside of the door and the other men in dark suits who were with him. We slipped inside the small garden and approached the big red glass doors. I could see a shadow on the other side reach for the handle and the doors opened for us.

There was a doorman and someone at a little lecturn as we entered. The guy at the lecturn asked if he could help us. I told him we just wanted to look around, again expecting us to be turned away. He gestured us in. I asked if there was a bar and he motioned down the long hallway towards the right where there was the "library bar".

I felt like Dorothy and gang as they walked down the long hallway to see the Wizard.

We looked around a bit and finally entered the library bar where we each got a very expensive drink. I got a French mojito which was a mojito made with sparkling wine, Tess got something with mango, and Lorena got a drink that had vodka, jasmine juice, lychee and lime. The drinks were really expensive. I mean astronomical.

The library bar looked out onto the pool, which was really beautiful. It was nice hanging out and pretending we could afford to be there. Did I say the drinks were really expensive? There was a horrible DJ mixing music that sounded more like car crashes than mixing. It got so bad with the loud thumping as he'd mix one song with another, and the volume going up and down, we thought we should have gotten our drinks for free.

I had to check out the bathroom and I was not disappointed. The men's room was made with white marble walls, big red doors on the stalls, a huge mirror with a silver and crystal frame, and spigots that looked like swans. I snapped a few photos (all of which will end up on my photo blog).

Finally, after hanging out in the library bar and the pool a bit, we left. As Lorena tried to take a photo of the hallway, a guy came up and told her she could not take photos. She was allowed to take photos of people, but not of the architecture. I thought this was a really dumb rule, so I am posting the photo I took when we first entered that they did not see me take. I don't believe that taking pictures should be restricted unless it violates someones privacy. So there.

We headed towards Plaza de Mayo to catch the subte and come home and shower for dinner when I suggested as we crossed Avenida de Mayo that we go to Cafe Tortoni.

Cafe Tortoni is a Buenos Aires institution. It is an old bar where different tangueros like Carlos Gardel and intellectuals like Borges hung out back in the day. It has tiffany lamps (that I imagine used to be on the tables) and stained glass ceilings. There are tango shows and it is filled with tourists clicking pictures as classic, old style waiters in black jackets and bowties rush around amongst the pandemonium. It is definitely worth a visit.

It was now after 9 and our plans to go home and shower and meet again for dinner were seeming to be a bit unrealistic. We finally decided to eat there. I got a steak and a "tomato salad" which consisted of two halfs of a tomato (I guess it was one tomato cut in half). Tess got a hamburger with ham, pineapple and maraschino cherries that mysteriously lacked bread, and Lorena got a salad with pineapple, turkey, hearts of palm, apples, and I don't remember what else. I also got a beer, Lorena got a Bloody Mary, Tess got a Pepsi and we had two bottles of water. We finished with me getting a piece of lemon merengue pie, and Tess and Lorena both getting a cup of coffee and sharing a piece of Black Forest cake. Our bill for this spread at this very touristy, highly visited, possibly overpriced Buenos Aires institution was two pesos less than what we paid for three very expensive cocktails at the Faena Hotel and Universe! Did I say those drinks were expensive?

When I went to the webpage of the Faena Hotel and Universe so that I could link this entry to it, I ended up checking out the spa. While the drinks in the library bar were ridiculously overpriced, the spa prices, which I am assuming are listed in pesos because it does not say US Dollars, look quite reasonable. So, I booked a day at the spa for myself on Friday. I'm scheduled for a 1 hour pranic healing and a 1 hour deep tissue massage. Amazingly, two hours at the spa are costing me only about a hundred dollars US. I could never get anything close to that in San Francisco.

Buenos Aires is a patchwork of contrasts - extravagent wealth, incredible bargains, grinding poverty and the daily stresses and pleasures - electrical outages, street closings, protests, lack of change and small bills, amazing wines, rich cultural heritage, intellectual curiosity and a well-educated populace, passion, crime, anguish and indulgence. As much as it might at times resemble Paris, or New York or Mexico City, it is unique and in reality there is nothing to compare it to but itself. That is one of the things I fell in love with last year and that is one of the things I continue to love about this very complicated city.

Update: the more I think about it, and from some clues I found on the Faena Hotel and Universe spa website, I think the prices are actually listed in dollars. For some of the treatments which are listed as $175, for example, they say below that it is $175 US and $548 pesos Argentinos (or something like that). While not all of the treatments are listed this way, I am assuming that those treatments that are listed as $175 are indeed all in dollars, and not some in dollars and some in pesos.

This means my two hours at the spa this Friday are going to be a super indulgence. After a week in Buzios, I'm finding it a little hard to allow myself to go ahead with this, but I am really curious about the pranic healing and really feel like I need and deserved to be pampered. My body is tired and stiff and I have really been saving so that I could afford this sabbatical. So, I am going to go ahead with my treatments and trust that it will be worth it (and hopefully not too addictive).

Traveling with Hernan

2008-12-08T10:58:00.002-02:00

Traveling with Hernan had its ups and downs. During the trip I was reading Eat, Pray, Love again, but this time in Spanish - Comer, Rezar, Amar. It was a nice thing to read on this trip, and aside from being a great book, is a great travel book, but more importantly a wonderful inspiration to self-reflect.

There were some good things about traveling with Hernan. He did all of the calling and questioning to make the arrangements for the trip. I joked that he likes to ask questions, and he admitted it was true. From that point on, it became a joke any time we wondered about anything. He would just ask. I'm a little more timid about asking, either because I don't know how, I feel like it makes me look foolish, or it is not that important for me to bother. But with Hernan, all questions were answered.

He had good suggestions about things to eat and got me up and doing things (I would have just gone to the same beach every day, but he wanted to explore). He'd walk into a restaurant and see what people were eating that looked good and ask for that. It turned out to be better than my strategy of reading the menu.

And then there were the irritations. He'd leave the bathroom light on, or the water running. He refused to throw the toilet paper in the little basket next to the toilet, and would spend hours trying to flush toilet paper down the toilet, which obviously couldn't handle it (ok, maybe not hours).

He slept way too much. He'd take a three hour siesta in the afternoon and was impossible to get out of bed in the morning.

He was messy. He had a pile of clothes in the closet that were just that - a pile. He'd track sand into the room and leave socks, shoes and other items of clothing strewn around the room. He'd open a little bag of cookies by making a little hole that was barely big enough to get a cookie through, and then the cookies would break up and as he pulled one out, leave crumbs all over the place.

There were several times when I lost my temper with him, and several times when he said things that insulted me. I got mad at him a few times and stopped talking, but he didn't know I was mad.

But, in the end, it was fun having him along, and thanks to Eat, Pray, Love, I can put the whole trip into a different perspective.

I remember Oprah once saying that relationships provide mirrors into ourselves, allowing us to see things we still need to work on. In Eat, Pray, Love, Richard the Texan (I don't remember what he was called in the English version) tells Liz that a soulmate is a mirror, allowing us to see all of our insecurities.

I don't think of Hernan as a soulmate, but he certainly became a mirror for me. I saw how easily I was thrown off balance by little things like sand on the floor or cookie crumbs on the desk top. I was taken out of the present so many times and catipulted into a state of anger, resentment and/or insecurity. I was so out of touch with my core essence and sometimes found myself difficult to be with.

There is a wonderful story in Eat, Pray, Love, from India, when Liz decides to sit up in the garden and meditate at dusk. She is immediately devoured by mosquitoes. Rather than shoo them away, she continues to sit and instead reflects on the sensations of being bitten, continuing to breathe and maintain presence and centeredness. To me it is a wonderful parable for life. We (I) get thrown out of balance so easily and by trying to swat things away, become more irritated. Allowing the present to just be, and observing our reaction to irritations seems more peaceful and healthy than my own reaction of seething inside without ever trying to change what is happening, but just resenting it. I think I don't try to change things because I know I can't, so at least I am halfway there, but my resentment comes from wanting things to be different. If I can only get to the point of being able to accept things as they are, I think it will be better for everyone, most of all myself.

Escape from Buzios

2008-12-07T17:42:00.004-02:00

Yesterday Hernan went into a mild panic about confirming our flight out of Buzios (out of Rio actually). He called the front desk several times, called the transfer company that was going to pick us up at the airport and tried unsuccessfully to call Aerolineas Argentinas, but he never got through. Thanks to his efforts, when we got back from our last visit to the "centro", we had a fax with the information about our airport transfer, which was going to meet us in the lobby of our hotel at 5:00 a.m.!

We packed everything up and got ready to go and went and had our final dinner in our hotel restaurant (dinner and breakfast was included). It kind of felt like we were on a cruise, with all of this food. Also, the restaurant was located on a cliff (well the whole hotel was) overlooking Joao Fernandes beach, and from where we sat, it looked like we were at sea.

The final meal was good. They had chicken in a curry sauce, some sort of breaded and fried fish pieces, mashed potatoes, rice, salad, corn and peas and a few deserts. We split a bottle of chardonnay and the waiter gave us an orange apertif, kind of like creamy limoncello.

We stumbled back to our rooms and watched a little TV, laughing at the actors on a Brazilian soap opera before finally settling in to try to get some sleep at 10 p.m. We had to get up very early.

Our phone rang at 4:30 a.m. with our wake up call. We got showered and ready and we out of our room just before 5 with amazingly no trouble. I didn't tell Hernan, but I was really worried we had left something behind since the whole week we were never able to leave the room without Hernan going back at least twice to get something he forgot and several times I realized I'd left something I wanted when it was too late.

We went down through the darkened hotel garden to the lobby to find one other couple already waiting for the bus. It made me feel a bit more relaxed since we weren't the only ones and they would be less likely to forget about us. I was ready to leave.

We waited outside and I watched the gecko who had ingeniously planted himself inside of the light to catch some grub. The sky began to lighten and birds started singing. There was no bus. It was getting close to 5:30 when the bus finally rumbled around the hill in front of our hotel. We all got on board and Hernan went into a mild panic.

Our flight (and that of the other couple from our hotel) was at 9:50. The couple who was on the bus when it arrived had a flight at 1:10. Since the driver was 30 minutes late and had several stops to make, Hernan was worried that we would get at the aiport too late and have problems catching our flight. I tried to reassure him since it seemed that half of the flight was going to be on our bus. Still, he went up and asked the drivers a lot of questions until finally asking for a name of someone he could complain to.

When he came back to our seat, he told me the driver said we would probably arrive at Rio airport at 8:30, or maybe later.

Clearing customs when we arrived in Rio on the way from Buenos Aires was a madhouse. My bag was there right after we got through immigration, which took little time, but then we stood in an incredibly long line that seemed designed to get people to go shop in duty free before finally leaving. I think we stood in that line for almost an hour.

So I think Hernan was thinking we have the same kind of delay in the other direction.

I tried to get him to relax, and eventually he fell asleep. I did too.

I woke up several times to see our driver really putting the metal to the floor and when we finally got on the highway, he really took off, passing everything in sight. I think between Hernan, and successive groups of Argentines who were in the same boat at us (on the same plane I mean) who gave him a hard time for being late, he didn't want to risk the wrath of a busload of angry Argentines if we got to the airport too late.

I woke up to see us passing the bay that looked like Rio and sure enough began seeing signs for the airport. I looked at my watch and it was 7:50. I tapped Hernan's knee to wake him up.

We jumped off the bus and Hernan rifled through the bags in the luggage compartment to get mine. We rushed to try to get ahead of everyone else on our bus so that we could check-in and make our way through whatever maze awaited us to clear customs and board our flight. As we walked into the airport terminal I thought the driver must have left us off at the wrong place. It was completely deserted and there were no agents behind the check-in counters.

Hernan and one other Argentine guy went up to the slightly open door behind the check-in counter to get someone to come out and help us. The rest of us stood exhausted and slightly confused in the middle of the empty terminal.

An agent freed herself from whatever she was eating to come out and tell us the 9:50 flight had been canceled by Aerolineas Argentinas since December 5 and we were all on the 1:10 flight! She had no answers for why we were not informed. She told us we could check-in at 10. We now had two hours to kill.

I was hungry of course because we hadn't eaten breakfast and we had been up for 3 1/2 hours by now, so I called Hernan to follow me as I followed the signs to shops and restaurants. We found a hotel on the 2nd floor with a restaurant with a breakfast buffet that was nothing special and cost $15 per person. When the waiter told us the price (30 reais) I told Hernan I thought it was expensive and the waiter said, "it is only 15 dollars". Brazil seemed really expensive to me and if a Brazilian thought that 15 dollars for a meek breakfast buffet merited an "only" it confirmed my belief that what seemed expensive to us might not have appeared that way to Brazilians. I'm sure it was overpriced, but this guy made it seem like nothing.

Anyway, we tried to eat as much as we could and killed an hour in the restaurant. We then walked and explored what else was on this floor and found many other restaurants where we could have eaten and Hernan could have gotten these little cheese bread balls that he ate every morning for breakfast and the expensive hotel did not have. Live and learn.

I joked that the Argentines were probably organizing a protest downstairs and Hernan joked that they were banging pots (this is what they do when they get frustrated by inefficient bureaucracy), so I told him I wanted to go down to the check-in terminal to see what they were up to.

We went back down to find them standing in line already in front of the deserted Aerolineas Argentinas check-in counters. Since we only had 30 minutes, I got in line behind them in spite of Hernan's protests that it was too early.

Finally, a little after 10, they came out and we began the check-in process. Hernan requested a seat at the back of the plane and I regretted not knowing right off the bat that "atras" meant back (I get it confused because detras means behind and I think "atras" is the opposite). I get claustrophobic at the back of a plane.

We now had 3 hours to kill so we went up to duty free and smelled the perfumes, tried on the the ridiculously large sunglasses that are in fashion now and didn't buy anything. Hernan had already given up and went outside to sit as I debated whether or not to buy some chocolate which seemed really expensive. Finally I left without the chocolate and stopped at the little snack counter to buy some cheese balls and something to drink. I had 20 reais to get rid of. Between the two cheese balls, a guarani drink with aroma of ginseng, two chocolate bars and a pack of cookies, I spent 10,90 (about $5.45). I guess maybe Brazil is not expensive if you go to the right kind of places.

Hernan made a face when he saw me coming with so much food. He was my unwanted conscience during the trip and gave me a hard time for eating so much. I gave him a hard time for sleeping so much, so we were even. But when he saw the cheese balls and tasted the guarani with aroma of ginseng, he changed his tune. He criticized me for eating until it was something he liked, which seemed very hypocritical to me.

We killed the rest of our time in the airport and our plane did eventually board and take off at 1:10. I endured being stuffed in the back of the plane and helped my seatmate, a Chinese businessman who was among a group of Chinese businessmen who all had copies of the Argentine immigration form filled out for them to copy on to the form we received on the plane. The problem was the form they had someone fill out for them was different from the form currently in use, and this guy could not figure out anything. Apparently, he did not read English, Portuguese or Spanish, which were the only three choices.

We ate our bland meal of noodles with a very bad carbonara sauce and a little typical desert of milhojas (an Argentine desert with dulce de leche - of course). As I watched this Chinese businessman eat the overcooked and badly sauced noodles and thought about the much better meals I had had on China Airlines, I thought of how "third-world" Argentina seemed. The reason the first flight that we were supposed to be on had been canceled was due, in part, to the fact that the flight we were on flying to Rio was half empty - people just don't have the money to travel - and partly due to the fact that there seems to be a lack of fuel (something Hernan overheard on the news or read somewhere yesterday - explaining his insistence on trying to get our flight confirmed).

In the end, we made it. We cleared immigration quickly, my bag was waiting on the carousel when I got to baggage claim, we whizzed through customs (they just sat there and waved us through - I do love that about the Buenos Aires airport) and Hernan whisked me to a cab. It was a relief to begin seeing buildings I recognized as we passed El Congresso and headed down Callao towards my neighborhood.

I came home to my apartment in Buenos Aires, clean and fresh and orderly, put on the air-conditioner, unpacked my bag into the hamper to take my clothes to the laundry tomorrow and here I am writing my first blog where I can really write in a whole week.

I have many stories to tell from the trip and some amazing photos that I want to put on the photo blog, but for now, the adventure of leaving Buzios seems to deserve being the first real post about the trip. My computer had fallen back an hour again, so I guess I should change that and then head to the Disco to get some food for my refrigerator. That will make it feel like I am really back.

Buzios

2008-12-03T11:14:00.003-02:00

I am in Buzios, Brazil until Sunday. It is nice to be away from the heat and rain in Buenos Aires. When we left it was pouring and it was supposed to rain for several days. Buzios is a bit of paradise, but I am surprised at how developed it is. There are many houses dotting the hillsides, and there are many hills. It is quite picturesque, with lots of rolling hills and coves that form little beaches. We are lucky to be in a hotel on a cliff between two nice beaches, one of them seems to be like our own private beach.

The downside to Buzios is that it is ridiculously expensive! We went out for Thai food last night since it is so hard to find Thai food in Buenos Aires. I couldn´t believe the prices! We ended up paying over 80 dollars for one small soup, a salad and one main dish! I guess I will wait to go to Thailand where I could eat for a week with what I paid last night.

Today is overcast and might rain again. I am not sure what is on our agenda, but I want to eat some good, typical Brazilian food.

Hernan is waiting for me and I am paying for internet service, so that is all for now.

Tchau!

No More Classes!

2008-11-29T15:13:00.002-02:00

Today I had my last Arabic class. I brought a ricotta rice pie since my classmate Claudia has been reading my blog and found out I brought one to my Italian class. Plus, I like making it. Next I am going to try making the ricotta pie with pineapple. I have a can of pineapple here waiting for me to open it. Yum! I love pineapple and cheese.

There were not many students in class today. It seems that most of them have given up. Romina and I were the first ones there, and after Ybti arrived, Fernando came. Claudia arrived a little later (and as always brightened things up) and Cynthia came after the break. That was it. We went from 12 students on the first day down to five survivors. I am so relieved that I don't have to take the final exam. I would be panicking since I am not at all prepared for what we're supposed to do on the exam.

I was making good progress, but it seems like lately (maybe since I decided to not take the exam), I am moving in reverse. I can read some phrases if I know the context and already know the phrases (which is how literacy works, right?), but new words that I have never heard before, are nearly impossible for me to figure out. Somewhere there is a lesson in this for teachers of Arabic, but since I am not an Arabic teacher, I'm going to just hope this lesson will become clear to me when I am in my classroom and I have students who are unable to read English words. Right now I am too tired to think about it.

So, I basically sat in class today and faked my way through it, trying my best not to nod off because I was really tired. I'd call out a word when I knew one, so that Ybti thought I was paying attention and following along, but mostly I was lost as she had us read dialogues and wrote tons of stuff on the board. I dutifully copied what was on the board, but had no idea what I was writing. I copied it because I knew she was going to come around and check with we wrote.

I'd like to continue with Arabic and at least get a basic understanding of it. I have a little bit of a foundation now and if I take another Arabic class I should be a little more confident.

After class I met Carlos, my conversation partner, but I was really tired and it was hot, so I didn't enjoy our exchange much. I'm feeling really exhausted by the 4 months I've spent here now made more difficult by this oppressive heat. It will be nice to have a little vacation, and when I return, maybe I'll be glad to be back in my familiar surroundings again (like when I got back from Uruguay) and then on the 21st of December, my friend Diane comes to visit and will help distract me from the heat until I finally leave on December 30.

I am looking forward to coming back next year in cooler weather, and I think that 3 months will be better for me than 5. We'll see.

For now it is nap time and then I need to start packing and getting ready for my ungodly early trip to the airport.

Suffocatingly HoT

2008-11-28T22:06:00.002-02:00

It rained all night and was really pouring this morning. I thought it would cool things off, instead it just made things feel hotter as it is now steaming.

I was up late last night because Tess and Lorena came by for dinner. No turkey. It didn't feel like Thanksgiving here as there were no signs of Pilgrims or cranberries or Christmas sales. I did find out today that there are places where I can get turkey, but I can do without it. Somehow, turkey doesn't seem like the thing to eat when it is in the upper 80's with 110% humidity.

I woke up early this morning even though I had gone to bed late, but I was tired and kind of cranky. I read some e-mails and got even crankier. I really just wanted to go back to bed, but I had an appointment with Ralf to look at an apartment in Palermo, near Scalabrini-Oritiz.

I went to the BA4U office and met Ralf. First he showed me an apartment in the same building as their office. It was a studio on the top floor of the building with a really nice view of the city below. It was very nicely decorated, and would be perfct for someone staying for a short time, but for me, to stay there close to three months, I'd go bonkers. It was too small and it was right on Santa Fe, meaning, I'd be walking out onto a busy street every day.

The apartment we went to see was on a small street a few blocks from Scalabrini-Ortiz, and two blocks in from Santa Fe. It was a nice apartment that is owned by a British guy who was there when we went to see it. The apartment is not a typical BA4U apartment with modern furniture and trendy art. It was a little on the funky side with a big yellow couch, wooden table and nightstands and a sort of funny smell. But, it had a nice kitchen and a terrace, both which I think made up for the lack of style otherwise. I'm opting for comfort and utility over style for next time. It will also be nice to try out a different neighborhood, and there is a fish store a few blocks from the apartment that has a great selection of seafood.

After returning home, I ate lunch and watchted some TV before taking a nap (actually I fell asleep watching Dr. Phil). Then I spent most of the rest of the afternoon doing a skype work call.

We were supposed to have our tickets to Brazil by now and I still don't understand why they were not ready when promised, but, it seems that things in Argentina do take longer than they should.

I was supposed to go to the travel agent yesterday and pick up our vouchers, but they were not ready. This morning Hernan called and told me something about the vouchers, but I was not really awake yet. After I finished skyping at 6, I sent him a text to find out what was going on. He told me I had to go to the office and they were sending the tickets over by motorcycle. I then asked him why they couldn't just send the motorcycle here, which would have made it a lot easier. He just said it wasn't possible.

So I went to ATI Viajes on Callao near Santa Fe and the two agents were busy with three more people waiting. I thought it was ridiculous that I had to stand there and wait just to pick up some vouchers, when these other people were there to ask questions and book things, but I saw no alternative.

It seems to me that Argentines ask a lot of questions. The people in the travel agency were asking a lot of questions, but I've also noticed this in restaurants. It seems that people don't just order, they interview the waiter about the food. I was getting irritated because it was hot and these people were asking a lot of questions. When they finished, the others who were waiting before me took their turn at the desks of the two agents so that they could ask questions. I sent Hernan a text saying, "there are many people". He was going to meet me at Volta, but fortunately, he came to the travel agent.

He looked at me waiting and asked, "que pasa?" I pointed to the people asking questions and said, "it's busy". He went up to one of the agents and told him we were just here to pick up vouchers. The agent told him we had to wait.

And so we did.

The agent was a little cranky himself and when he finally helped us was upset that I didn't bring my document with me. I had a copy of my passport, my gym membership, my student ID and the credit card I used to book the reservations, but he wanted my original passport just to give us the vouchers. It seemed kind of dumb to me. Eventually he did give us the vouchers.

And so we are ready to head to the airport at 3:10 a.m. Sunday morning to catch a 6:10 flight. We'll arrive in Rio at 9:10 and be transferred to our hotel in Buzios. We should arrive there by 1 p.m., enough time to be able to swim a little.

I just checked the weather and it is 73 degrees and raining. It looks like it is going to rain all week. Hmm....

It will be nice to get away from the sizzling city and have a change of view. Plus, the food will be a nice change.

I'm not looking forward to December if this heat continues to increase. I'll be spending a lot of time in my nice, cool apartment.

Last Italian Class

2008-11-26T14:59:00.002-02:00

It's really hot and humid today. I just got a text from Hernan asking how I was. I replied "tengo calor" - I am hot, but actually I am sitting inside with the air-conditioner on. He replied that he is on the bus on the way to his mother's and can't even describe the heat to me. Okay, I am not hot compared to him. I can not imagine being on an un-airconditioned bus in this heat.

Today was my last Italian class. I stayed up late last night watching some silly movie with Jennifer Garner where she is a 13 year old girl who suddenly becomes a 30 year old woman. Kind of like BIG with a woman. I had figured out how it was going to end about halfway through, but stayed up anyway to see the ending.

As a result, I woke up this morning feeling tired. I didn't have time to eat much breakfast or relax over several rounds of mate. Instead, I drank some warmed up leftover coffee, ate some quick fruit salad and hopped in a cab to get to school a few minutes late.

Today Blas invited his Italian friend to come to class. He was going to play an accordian and we were going to sing. His friend came accordianless. He's going to come next week with the accordian.

Instead, he did a little activity with us where he wrote Italian idiomatic expressions on one piece of paper and their meaning on another. He told us we had to find the meaning of each expression. I thought we would get up and walk around and find the person who had the piece of paper that went with what we had, but we didn't do that. Instead, one person read what was on their paper and then the person who thought they had a match read what they had. One example was something like "be up to your neck in water" and the match was "have little time". It was interesting but not terribly useful. Not that anything we are doing is useful since I don't know when I will ever speak Italian.

I have decided I am not going to take the Italian final. It's a big relief. I really don't like language tests. I feel the best test is if the language results in being used. Since I am not planning on going to level 2 in Italian next year and am not taking this class for any credit, there is no point in suffering through an exam. So, today was the last day I would see my Italian classmates.

They were nice but the atmosphere in the class was not as comfortable as in our Arabic class. I don't know why, because actually Blas did more group work with us. I brought my camera thinking I wanted to take a picture of the class, but decided I didn't want to make a big deal out of the fact that I was not taking the exam. After class was over, I just said good-bye to Natalia and slipped out into the heat.

JUGÁ LIMPIO

2008-11-26T14:45:00.003-02:00

Last week when Tess, Lorena and I were having their first lunch in Buenos Aires, we sat outside at a cafe on Santa Fe and Coronel Diaz. There must have been a protest because traffic was insane. It was all backed up and people were getting really bent out of shape because the intersection kept getting blocked. But we noticed that a lot of taxis had bright green flags flying that said "JUGÁ LIMPIO ". Turns out this is a new campaign launched by the Macri government of Buenos Aires to encourage people to clean up. There is a commercial that goes along with it.

Mama Luchetti

2008-11-26T14:34:00.002-02:00

I haven't been taking the subte very often, but usually when I do, I hear this song from this commercial. The commercials are very funny and the song is irritating but catchy. I guess Luchetti is a brand of noodles or something. I am not sure.

The first one is just the song. The second one is pretty obvious. In the third, the woman is saying "clean", "dirty" as she turns on and off the lights in her kitchen. Hilarious!

Help! I'm Melting....melting.....mellllltingggg....

2008-11-25T16:00:00.002-02:00

It is ridiculously hot here. Sweltering. Boiling.

I went to see my cute chiropractor this morning and the day had already begun to heat up. It was still bearable. My neck and shoulders are feeling much more relaxed than when I first starting seeing Hugo (that is Mr. Babe's name). Today I still had a little stiff spot on the left side of my neck. Now it feels so much better.

Fortunately I wasn't sniffling too much this morning, but lying mouth down on the table I did start to get a little bit of a runny nose. Hugo noticed and asked me if I had a cold. Allergies, I said. He then said that with the air-conditioner I probably got sick.

He is not the first person who has claimed that the air-con made them sick. Now, here is my question - colds are caused by germs, right? How is it that an air-conditioner could make a person sick? Is there something to it? Is it because people believe it? Or is this one of those old-wives tales that is based on nothing but what someone's grandmother who grew up without air-conditioning told them?

I don't know, but with this heat, I'll take the sneezing over not having my air-con on.

I came home thinking I might go to the gym, but instead I played on the computer a bit, ate lunch and watched Ellen. Ellen is on a lot here. Her current show is on as well as re-runs of her sit-com twice a day. I love Ellen.

Finally, I decided to try going to the gym. It was really hot but walking in the shade, and even in the sun, was not that bad as I only had to walk about 6 or 7 blocks. I bought a bottle of water, as I usually do, at a kiosk near the gym, but it was warm.

The gym had the air-conditioning on and most of the fans were blowing, but the windows were all open. Considering the fact that itis like 95 degrees today with 100% humidity, unless you were directly in front of a fan, it was really too hot to work out. I stayed for about 35 minutes and did get a decent workout in, but finally it was enough. I have only a few more days before I'll be baring my skin on the beach, but there is no way any amount of pushing is going to make a major difference at this point. Fortunately, Hernan also has a little belly, so I won't feel to much like a rhino next to him. His tummy is cute, it kind of reminds me of Bart Simpson.

I walked home down Santa Fe which was nearly deserted compared to most other days. Especially on the sunny side of the street, there were very few people. I popped into Volta and had a small cone with lemon and raspberry sherbert, which was very nice, and then popped into Carrefour, a supermarket on Santa Fe that has a different selection from my Disco. I picked up some fruit to make a fruit salad and a bottle of Malbec Rose.

I might go out later to see if I can find a Portuguese phrase book, but I'm probably going to cook and just stay in and do some work on the computer and stay out of the heat.

I hope this is an anomoly and it's not going to be hot like this until the end of December! Next year I am definitely getting out before the boiler gets turned on!

Today I Was a Cebador

2008-11-24T19:02:00.003-02:00

Today I had an ongoing allergy attack that left my nose raw from blowing it and me out of tissues. I had planned on going to the gym, but I was unfit to leave the house. I'm not sure why my allergies bother me so much in my apartment. I sleep with an air-conditioner on in the other room and not blowing directly on me. I wonder if it is pulling air in from the outside though. It's definitely too hot to sleep without, so I am hoping the pollen counts will drop in a week or two (like when I return from Brazil).

So I hung out here and played games on Facebook (my new favorite time wasting activity) responded to some e-mails and spoke to Pablo from ATI Viajes to finalize the preparations for our trip next week.

Hernan called to say he was going to stop by later, and after lunch, I was exhausted from doing nothing, so I took a nap.

My nap was broken by my phone ringing. It was Hernan to say he was on his way. Turned out to be a perfect nap, about 20 minutes, and not one of those too long naps that are really difficult to snap out of.

Because I was tired from sneezing and napping, I made a pot of coffee, which Hernan and I drank. After hanging out a bit, he said he wanted to make a snack for me to go with mate. He ran to the store to get flour and apples and came back and made these little balls of dough with apple in them that he fried. I was amazed at how quickly he did it and they were really yummy.

While he was doing that, I prepared the mate, putting the yerba in the mate, heating the water, etc.

The mate ritual is kind of like a tea ceremony in Japan. There are rules as to how you do it and I was really nervous about being the 'cebador' - the server. But, since I make mate for myself many mornings, I decided to give it a try.

After filling the mate and turning it over with my hand cupped over the top to catch some of the dust (because Raul says it can cause kidney stones), I poured the water in slowly where the straw (bombilla) stuck out. The cebador takes the first sip, which might seem kind of rude, but it is actually doing others a favor because there might me some polvo (dust) or the bombilla might be a bit hot.

Then after finishing the tea that is made from the water and yerba, the cebador re-fills the mate and passes it.

Several times Hernan drank the mate he said "mmmm.. rica", and one time even gave me a "ricisima" (very good)! This was a big deal for me as I was doing something that is classic Argentine and not really sure if I knew what I was doing. I was glad he thought I passed the test (he didn't know it was a test), and the combination of the little apple dough balls and the mate was really nice.

After he left, I went to the Disco to pick up some more tissues and some stuff to have around the house in case I get hungry later. After coffee, mate, and dough balls, I'm not feeling hungry at all. It looks like it might rain (I hope it does so some of the pollen in the air might get washed away).

San Telmo Fair

2008-11-23T23:39:00.003-02:00

Today was another hot day, but the humidity was not that high, so in the shade, at least, there was some relief.

I met Tess and Lorena and we headed down to San Telmo to check out the Sunday Antiques Fair. I think this is about the 3rd or 4th time I've been there. Today I discovered something new. There are actually two fairs. There is the antique fair and there is a more populist sort of artesan fair. I actually prefer the artisan fair more.

When I went last year for the first time with Larry, we headed straight for the antique fair but made a short trip into the part where the more artsy, hippy crowd hangs out. It didn't seem to go very far. Now, it extends almost all the way to Plaza de Mayo. They sell all sorts of stuff - clothing, jewelry, books, music, chess games with Incas vs. Spaniards. There was a lot to look at and I even picked up a few things myself - some gifts for folks, some things for myself. I regret not getting a beautiful wooden bowl I saw, but am also glad I didn't have to carry it around all day.

After making it about most of the way through the artesan part of the fair, we hooked up briefly with Hernan and a friend of his. Hernan and I walked Tess and Lorena to the place where there was a tango class they wanted to take (hopefully we got them to the right place) and then I walked Hernan home.

From there, I headed towards the subte. I decided to take a detour and once again look at the amazing gothic building on Avenida Belgrano (pictured above). When I got to Avenida de Mayo, the sun was at an angle that was casting beautiful shadows on the wonderful buildings that line the avenue, and all of the trees were lush and green and casting beautiful shadows on everything. I decided to walk up Avenida de Mayo and take some photos of some of the buildings in the summer(ones I have from last year are in winter) and with this beautiful, warm, afternoon light.

I really love Avenida de Mayo. I think it should be up there among the world's most beautiful streets, but unfortunately, many of the buildings are in need of care and are covered with graffiti or simply in need of a good cleaning. To me it adds to the charm. It was nice walking down the avenue on a fairly quiet Sunday afternoon. I passed many sidewalk cafes with people enjoying an afternoon beer and finally got a hankering for one myself. I stopped at La Continental and got a few slices of pizza and a beer. It was hot, sitting in the setting sun, but it was fun watching the people who strolled by. People on Avenida de Mayo, and that part of town are very different from where I live.

Unfortunately, my relaxing snack was disturbed by a noisy American who came outside with his cell phone and had several loud conversations. I was not sure what the guy did, but he was talking about making movies and not liking New York in the winter, so he was going to continue to travel until it got warm. But the thing was, he was talking so loud and at one point, he was just plain obnoxious.

From there I walked a little more until I decided to take a taxi the rest of the way home. I was hot, sweaty and tired and couldn't wait to get home and jump in the shower.

All in all it was a very full day and I am exhausted. I have some pics of Avenida de Mayo that I will post on my photo blog, but not tonight, because I am too tired.

Recoleta Fair

2008-11-22T23:57:00.000-02:00

I had my 2nd to last Arabic class today. We're winding down. There were only 6 students there. For me it is reassuring to see that classes get smaller towards the end of the semester in Argentina too! It's not just my class!!!

Well, actually, I don't know how reassuring it is, because I think part of the reason our class is getting smaller is because so many students are feeling lost. It's the reason I stopped going to the phonetics class on Friday. It was a waste of my time.

Today I was happy because Claudia was there. She laughs at my jokes. I'm always afraid Ybti is going to yell at us and tell us to stop fooling around. It is very easy to make Claudia laugh. She really brightens up the class when she is there.

But the other students who were there today are all very nice. Actually, my Arabic class is very nice in general. I like the class.

After Italian on Wednesday, and today after Arabic, I was feeling very fortunate to have had the opportunity to study something with Argentines. I know I complained a lot about the teaching and was frustrated sometimes, but it was a great way to meet other people. I feel like I was allowed to be a part of something that most visitors/tourists, don't get to experience. Others come here and go to milongas or get to go to a parilla at someone's house, but not many people get to study with Argentines. I really enjoyed it in the end.

After class we went to the bar. I thought we were meeting to study Arabic and had told Carlos, my conversation partner, that I wanted to stay and study. I was thinking I might try to take the make-up exam, which Ybti told me I could do on December 15. But after today's class, which was a review of what will be on the test, I decided not to take it. I was totally confused today and I realized that the exam is way beyond what we are being prepared to be able to do. As we were doing these review exercises, whether it was reading a dialogue or matching words on the board, Ybti allowed us very little time to figure things out on our own and often gave us the answers. She won't be there to do that during the test.

So we met in the cafeteria and just talked for an hour. It was very sweet! I of course missed half of the conversation either because I couldn't hear or I couldn't understand, but it was fun just hanging out and chatting. Again, it helped me to realize what a nice class it is that we have.

After class I came home and played some games on facebook which are quickly becoming my new addiction! I even have a virtual pet named "che". I played with him a little today and took him to the store to buy food. He likes it when I give him a bath.

After playing for a bit, I took a nice nap and was awakened by what sounded like it might have been my phone. I checked my message and it had was Lorena and Tess. We made plans to meet here and go to the Recoleta Fair.

Lorena likes to shop, so the Recoleta Fair must have been like paradise to her. I've been there with several people, but usually we kind of breeze through quickly. Not today. We stopped at every stall. It was great practice for me at being patient and being present. Once I got used to the rythym of stopping and often standing at one stall for 5-10 minutes, it became really quite enjoyable. It was a lovely day. We got there late, so it wasn't crowded, and there is a lot to look at even if you aren't shopping.

There is one grassy area that I jokingly called "Cirque de Soleil training ground" Some young guys strung up tightropes between trees and take turns walking on them. It looks like it is a terrific core strengthening exercise! It was fun to watch. Other people were climbing these ribbons that were hanging from trees, while others sat on the grass and watched, or drank mate and talked. It was a very "hippy" scene and I enjoyed having a reason to stop and just drink it all in.

In other places I stopped and waited while Lorena puzzled over which earrings to buy or which shirts she liked. Again, it made me slow down and see what was going on around me. I got to watch people walking by, or listen to the shop keepers speaking Spanish, or just enjoy standing in the sun (or shade).

I was glad that Lorena found some things that she liked. It's always enjoyable to see someone enjoy something that you are partially responsible for (like watching someone enjoy a meal you cooked). I did after all bring them there, so I am taking some credit!

I even bought two items! I got two pair of earrings for gifts (hmmm....who will get them???)

From there, we were right at the end of Posadas and in perfect striking distance to El Sanjuanino, one of my favorite restaurants. It was fun walking there because the last time I was there was with Popi back in August. It was still winter. Seeing what the street looked like in late spring was quite shocking. The trees are now full of leaves and it was almost like we were walking through a jungle. It was all very lush and we could hear the bird that sounds like an ice cream truck (but I have still yet to see it).

Dinner was good. Our waiter was very sweet. We had empanadas (which are now up to 5 pesos each!). I had a steak and fries, Lorena had a tamale, and Tess had chicken. We had a nice bottle of tempranillo and split a mixed salad. My steak was good, but a little fatty. The tamale was not so good (I thought) and I don't know how Tess' chicken was. But, I like El Sanjuanino. It has a very neighborhoody feel and the food is hearty.

After steak, of course I needed ice cream to get the taste of beef out of my mouth. We went to Volta on Callao and Pacheco de Melo, which is one of my favorite Volta's. It's a very nice space and it was nice to sit and eat ice cream on this warm spring night. It was hot, actually.

As we walked home, I was stopped and asked for directions twice. One woman, who was all dressed up and driving an SUV, asked me how to get to Plaza Recoleta. As I told her how I thought she might go, she said, "oh, you are a foreigner and I am asking you for directions". She was pretty funny. I told her it was good practice for me. I think probably she stopped the next person she found and got the REAL directions!

A few steps down the street and a delivery guy asked for directions. It's funny, I find Buenos Aires very easy to navigate, but people are always asking for directions. I think it must be like when I go to New York and have no idea where I am. Only a few times I have told people I didn't know, but most of the time I try to help people and I hope I am not sending them too far out of their way! It's one of the things I like the most about being here - that I don't stand out like a sore thumb and people think I am from here (until I open my mouth)!

So, it was a full day. It's fun having people here to show around (I think I might have already said that). I'm also being inspired by Lorena and Tess to get in a few more tango lessons before I go back to SF and maybe even go to a milonga (to see it). We'll see. I still can't imaging dancing close embrace in this heat unless the air-conditioner is on full force (which I doubt).

I Flipped Out on Two Brazilian Ladies

2008-11-20T22:55:00.005-02:00

Today I was going to go to the gym, but it was raining. I will use any excuse not to go. But this was legitimate. I've been enjoying just going to the gym wearing my shorts and t-shirt and not going to the locker room and dealing with the guy who checks my bag and changing and unchanging and rechanging and all that. But since it was raining, I thought I'd have to carry an umbrella and I couldn't just go in and work out and leave, so I ended up not going. Instead I played this stupid word game on Facebook all morning. I like to think I am keeping my brain young.

Leo, my Spanish teacher came by at 1:30, and again we had another good Spanish lesson. When he greeted me downstairs, he said I always seemed so relaxed. This is the 2nd time someone made a comment regarding my low-key temperment (that would soon change...)

I really think I benefit from sitting and talking for two hours and would be perfectly happy if that was all we did. In fact, I'd be happiest if that was all we did.

The first time he came, he gave me a worksheet on the subjunctive. Spanish teachers love the subjunctive. I hate it. My brain freezes up at the first mention of it and my eyes glaze over. I put off doing this worksheet for 3 weeks until today I finally decided to make an attempt. When Leo checked it, of course I had done it wrong.

I did get something out of the exercise however. And I do have a better understanding of the four forms of the subjunctive he was trying to review and how they might be used. But I understood them better because I found myself in situations where I had to use them and that was when they finally made sense. I think my mind does not work with abstract situations, but when I need something, and it becomes concrete, it makes sense.

Leo pointed out that I didn't like this kind of exercise, but said it was important. I tend to disagree with him now that we've done it. I think it is more important for me to have the need to use something to communicate and then get help using it. It's a slight difference of opinion but for me it is major. I wish I could find a Spanish teacher who got that.

It was a good class and I am always amazed by Leo's ability to get me to talk. He'll raise a topic that really gets me going, and when I start to get quiet, he'll ask another question and I'll talk more. Too bad he doesn't have a degree in psychotherapy, I could get therapy and Spanish all in one.

After class I headed to Palermo to meet up with Tess and Lorena. We had planned to meet in Boutique del Libro, the place where I used to meet Juliana for Spanish lessons. As I walked there I recalled the last time I took that walk and started to have a vertigo attack one block before arriving. It was a weird deja vu kind of thing.

When I got to the bookstore/cafe, they had not arrived yet, so I went up to the bathroom. The cafe was empty and I was excited because the area where I had always wanted to sit was empty.

The cafe is in the back of the bookstore. There is a smoking section, where Juliana always sat, and I hated, because I hate second hand smoke, especially in enclosed spaces. It's so 1980's (2nd hand smoke, that is). Then there is an area with a bunch of wooden tables and wooden chairs.

And then, on this little stage, there is a sofa, coffee table and armchair that look out on the rest of the cafe and bookstore.

When I came down from the bathroom I was afraid someone had taken that spot, but it was still open, so I sat down on the sofa.

There were not many people in the bookstore and other than one guy taking pictures, there was no one in the cafe and there were a few people in the smoking section.

Then, all of a sudden, from the bookstore, came a woman who came up on the little stage where I was sitting and sat in the armchair next to the sofa I was seated on. To me it was like she had sat down at my table.

When I met Hernan in San Telmo a few months ago and we sat at an outdoor cafe, a German guy came up and asked if he could sit at our table. Hernan said it was weird, that Argentines would never do that.

I thought that this woman sitting at "my table" without even asking was weird.

But it got worse.

Her friend, who was browsing the bookstore came up and sat on the sofa next to me! And then the waitress brought one of them a cup of coffee.

I said, "excuse me, I am waiting for friends who are going to sit here", and the first woman to sit down showed me a book she had from the bookstore and said something that I didn't understand, but in essence, she was brushing me off. I pointed to the 5 or 6 empty tables in front of us and said, "there are many empty tables", but she ignored me (I was speaking Spanish).

From listening to them, I figured out that they were Brazilian. I sat there fuming and waiting for them to finish their coffee and get up and leave. They didn't. I decided I was not going to give up my seat, just because there were two of them and only one of me. Mentally, I had declared war.

When Lorena and Tess arrived, I said, "my friends are here, can you please move?", but they continued to ignore me. It wasn't as if they didn't understand and said, "we don't understand", they were pretending I didn't even exist, which just made me madder.

Lorena came up first, and I said, "our space has been invaded by these two bitches" - actually I don't know if I used the 'b' word, but I was so mad, I might have. Lorena, might have said, "oh, it's ok, we can sit somewhere else", but I was not going to give up my seat. I said, no, we're going to squeeze onto this couch until they leave. So I moved over and sat up against the other woman on the couch so Lorena and Tess would have room to sit down.

At that point, they acknowledged my presence and the woman on the couch said, "relax". I said, "no, I don't know about you, but in my culture, it is rude to sit down at another person's table, I was here first and you saw me", or something along those lines.

I was really fired up and my heart was beating fast and I was mad.

Eventually, they paid their bill and left.

I felt embarrassed that I had lost my temper in front of Lorena and Tess and made such a big deal out of something that really wasn't such a big deal. But in the end it was worth it. I moved to the armchair, Lorena and Tess had the whole couch to themselves, we sat and looked out on the bookstore and cafe and ordered sandwiches and drinks and had a nice time. I regret losing my temper, but regret even more that those women sat there and made me get mad! I am a Scorpio, and when provoked, can be deadly!

After that we walked around Palermo a bit before taking the subte home. It was another nice day, though it is getting warm again. Lorena and I both have the sniffles, and I think it is allergies. There are so many trees in bloom now and when the wind is blowing there is a lot of stuff flying around. Spring in Buenos Aires might be nice, but it's also allergy season. Ah-CHOOO!

Ricotta Rice Pie - Verdict? Success!

2008-11-19T23:53:00.002-02:00

I was very happy with the way my ricotta rice pie turned out today. The little bit of cream cheese I added made a difference, I think. Now the trick will be to see if I can duplicate the success.

Italian class is becoming a little less stressful for me, but I still dread when Blas calls on me for anything. Our room seems to have been changed permanently, though only time will tell. I like the new room we are in because the acoustics are a little better and I can hear a little better than in the other room, but I still have problems understanding what people are saying. Matias, the nice guy who makes Blas laugh, said something today about me that Matias said was a compliment. I had no idea what it was he was saying, though I appreciated the sentiment. I guessed that he was commenting on my laid back, tranquil nature. Seriously. Some people who know me might not know that side of me, but it does exist. Especially when I am in a situation where I feel uncomfortable and am trying to make myself invisible!

I think next week is my last class because I'll miss the final class when I go to Brazil. Blas invited an Italian friend to come and play the accordian and sing with us. That should be interesting ...ahem....

After class I came home, had a light lunch of a few empanadas and then took a nap. I was going to go to the gym, but I was waiting to hear from Tess and Lorena who needed help with cell phones and money. They had no way to communicate with me since the phone in their apartment doesn't work and they didn't have a cell phone that worked either, so we were e-mailing each other. They went to a milonga last night and stayed out until 5:30 a.m., so I should have guessed that they'd be sleeping late. But, I didn't need to go to the gym today anyway. I got a lot of exercise yesterday walking (and I'll use any excuse not to go).

Finally a little after 5 I did hear from them and headed over to help them get money from the ATM. For some reason ATMs limit the amount you can withdraw at one time. We were able to find an ATM that allowed us to withdraw 400 pesos and then do it again. But after that, it wouldn't allow any more. So we went to another bank and got 200 pesos (all it would allow). Now I am thinking maybe the first ATM would have allowed us to withdraw 1,000 pesos. I'm going to suggest it to Tess tomorrow.

I like being an assistant. It gives me opportunities to speak Spanish with people and not be on my own. For some reason I feel more comfortable with someone there who I can speak English with. Tess and I went to a little natural foods store, of which there seem to be several in a few block radius of where Tess and Lorena are staying, and we got peanut butter and were looking for apple cider vinegar. The guy was very nice and after a while asked where we were from and told me he had just started taking some English classes. As he was giving Tess her change, he even spoke a little English. The same thing happened yesterday when we went to the Movistar booth at Alto Palermo, the young guys working in the booth started speaking broken English eventually.

I actually think Tess and Lorena don't need me. Lorena can manage fairly well in Spanish and I think probably a lot of people speak English and will make an attempt if the person speaking to them makes an attempt in Spanish. But still, it is nice to be getting out a bit more and doing some different things. I admire Tess and Lorena for getting out there and taking tango lessons and going to milongas and all of that. I'm still not ready for the milonga scene, which seems to have so many rules and is steeped in tradition and restriction and patriarchy, etc...

I have been inspired to try to get a few more lessons in with Marcelo before I leave, in spite of the heat.... we'll see...

Tomorrow after my Spanish lesson and their tango lesson we're going to meet in Palermo at the bookstore where I used to meet Juliana. The last time I was there was my vertigo attack. I don't know if I know Palermo well enough to lead people around, but it will be fun to try.

Today was another nice day weather-wise. The forcast for later this week looks like the heat is going to return, but I am learning that the forcasts are often very wrong. I know the heat will return eventually, but I am hoping it will be delayed as long as possible and this nice weather will hold out.

Fun With Lorena and Tess

2008-11-18T22:57:00.003-02:00

Today was a beautiful day, sunny and warm but not hot. Probably in the mid 70's with low humidity. It was really lovely being out.

I started off the day with a trip to the Brazilian Consulate. I first thought I would be going to the Brazilian Embassy, which is one of the big old villas that the noveau riche of Buenos Aires in the 1920's had to give up because their finances failed them after the stock market crash. They are magnificent palaces and testament to greed and foolish spending. Maybe some of the McMansions in the US will eventually be turned into embassies?

Instead, I went to a fairly non-descript office building on 9 de Julio.

I arrived and a security guard told me I had to go to window 5. I waited for my turn and the woman at window 5 spoke to me in English. She looked on the computer for my application, which I had not filed, because when I asked the security guard if I needed to file an application on the computers there, he said no. So, the lady in window 5 sent me to the computers to fill out the application.

When I was done, I returned to the window, and even though the woman was super nice, it was still a bureaucracy, so of course what I did was not correct. I had forgotten to put my work phone number (like they are going to call SF?) and I didn't know the address of the hotel. I called Hernan and woke him up to get the number of the travel agent just in case, while the woman from window 5 went off to see if she could find the address of my hotel. She returned with the address and the telephone number, which she filled in on the form. I was very impressed. They could have just sent me away and told me to come back when I had what was required.

From there she sent me to a bank on Santa Fe to pay the fee. They didn't accept credit cards and I didn't have enough cash, so I had to get money from the ATM. The fee was 495.50 pesos. I gave the teller 500 pesos. She asked me if I had 50 pesos. I couldn't believe it. I was in a bank and she was asking me for change!

That done I headed home and checked my e-mail. Lorena and Tess needed help getting some basics like money, food, and some electronic items, so I headed over to their place and led them around and helped them with Spanish when they needed it.

It was really fun. Normally, when I was doing errands early on, I would only do one per day. I bought my cell phone one day. I got the gym membership another day. But here I was, helping them to do several things in one day! We went to get a sim card for their cell phone so they could use it here. The people in the little booth at Alta Palermo Shopping Center were really nice and it was fun talking to them in Spanish (and they also tried using some of their limited English).

We went and had lunch at a place on Santa Fe and Colonel Diaz and sat outside, but for some reason Santa Fe was like a parking lot and cars were just packed and moving very slowly. Drivers were losing their temper and lots of horns were blaring. I asked the waiter what was happening and he said he thought they had cut one of the streets (protestors close off streets). I could kind of see Raul's point about protests being annoying after a while (oh no, what is happening to me?!!)

From there we ran a few more errands before coming to the mother of all errands... the supermarket!

Lorena and Tess are really lucky to live one block away from a majorly huge Coto. I am so jealous. My feet were really tired from doing so much walking, but I loved walking around this supermarket. It was so big it even had appliances and underwear!

This Coto, unlike the one near me, allowed Tess to use a photocopy of her passport for ID. I don't know why my Coto doesn't allow me to use a copy. And since I saw Lorena and Tess' Coto, I don't want to go back to the snooty one in my neighborhood! I'm actually fine with my Disco, which is on the small side, but now I know where everything is.

It is fun having people in town that I know and it is fun showing them around. I was tired though and wish my feet weren't so sore. I'm going to have to take it easy and maybe not walk as much.

Overall it was a good day and I am tired. I'm going to bed sort of early so that I can be fresh for my Italian class tomorrow (highly unlikely).

Relaxing Day

2008-11-17T23:39:00.002-02:00

I didn't do a whole lot today. I was expecting some friends from SF to arrive and had agreed to show them around. Things got complicated when the phone in their apartment didn't work, but eventually we did hook up briefly. As I took Tess to buy water and empanadas, it hit me how acculturated I am. I didn't have any communication problems and felt very confident going to places I had never been before. That is a big change from 3 months ago!

I made a ricotta rice pie for my Italian class on Wednesday. I've been playing around with a recipe I found but decided to go with it as is (except that I added a little cream cheese to hopefully make it creamier). I also make it without a crust, which makes it easier. The rice kind of forms a bottom layer that makes it easy to get out of the dish.

I am nervous. I don't know what it will taste like or if my classmates will like it. It's silly. I have made this in the past and it was a big hit, but for some reason for my Italian class I am nervous. Here is where I found this recipe.

I heard back from the guy at school who is in charge of sabbaticals. I think he is an interim dean or something. I don't know him.

He told me I can't move my sabbatical forward like I was planning. I need to travel 80% of the actual semester. Bummer. But he did approve my change as long as I am traveling 80% of the time. So my plan for next year is to spend only 3 months in Buenos Aires. That will mean I won't have to leave the country to get my visa renewed and United Airlines won't give me a hard time! I'll be here from August to the end of October. Then I will return to SF for a few weeks, unpack and pack, take care of whatever business I need to take care of, celebrate my 50th birthday and head in the other direction (well not exactly) to Thailand. I'll spend about a week in Bangkok taking a week's worth of cooking classes, then head to Bali where I will get massages and traditional Balinese healing treatments and just lay back and relax, then back to Bangkok for a few more days before returning home.

That is quite a trip!

It turns out what I do on my sabbatical is not that important as long as I am traveling. I'm glad I took classes though because if I didn't have a reason to leave my apartment twice a week, I would end up becoming a hermit. Also, I did meet some nice people in my classes, who I hope I will keep in touch with.

I was sitting on my computer playing a game and waiting to hear from Lorena and Tess when my friend Jake, who was my college roommate skyped me. We were both born in the same year and our birthdays are close together. He always used to call me on my birthday and then I'd call him in December for his. We kept in touch over the years, even when I was in Japan. But then he got married and had a daughter and we lost touch. Amazingly, on this trip when everyone from my past is coming out of the woodwork (especially through facebook), Jake appeared and today was the first time we spoke in nearly 7 years (or more). It was great talking to him and I am still amazed at how technology is changing how we live. I think this is only the beginning.

My Cheto Birthday!

2008-11-16T23:58:00.002-02:00

My 49th birthday was very cheto. Hernan once again came through with something different.

The day started off very slow. I seem to have caught a little summer cold. Weird. I think it is from sleeping with the air-con, even though when I sleep, I put the air-con in the living room on and turn the one in the bedroom off so the air is not blowing directly on me. Still, I've had the sniffles and have been sneezing a lot since Friday. Big sneezes, like shake the room sneezes. Yesterday I went out to see if I could find something at Farmacity and I sneezed about 7 times in a row, really loud. My sneeze echoed down the street. It was kind of embarassing.

So anyway, I think whatever this is, and the changing temperatures, have kind of worn me out again. I woke up late and sat on the computer reading and replying to e-mails, catching up on prop 8 news, etc. For some reason my computer keeps changing the time every Sunday. I think it has something to do with daylight savings time. It keeps falling back an hour. I didn't realize it today, like I didn't realize it last Sunday and I thought I must have gotten up really early. Instead when my computer said it was 9:30 it was 10:30. Fortunately, Hernan changed the plan today.

He was supposed to come by around 12:30 and we were going to have lunch. But his brother-in-law had an accident and he went to meet his sister at the hospital (everything is ok). So we made plans to meet for dinner instead.

That gave me time to go to the gym and the supermarket and then spend the afternoon killing time. I found a new word game on Facebook that is very addictive. Facebook is also addictive. I took a nap and then Hernan called and woke me up. I was really out of it.

I lazed around in the afternoon, called my parents and some friends skyped me. At about 8:30, Hernan came by. We hopped in a cab and went to a restaurant that is not too far from here (we could have walked).

I like riding in taxis with Hernan because he gets the drivers to talk. The few times I've tried, I was unsuccessful, so I don't know what his secret is.

Hernan was telling me that there was something called "night of the museum" in which all of the museums were open at night and were free. The taxi driver immediately chimed in. He was saying that they get really crowded and there are long lines and that people don't usually go to the museum when they have to pay. From what I was understanding (which wasn't much) he was talking about how expensive it was for a family to visit a museum. Hernan told me later that he was saying that people are not able to do as much these days as they used to, so they have to take advantage of freebies.

He took me to a place not far from my apartment at Santa Fe and Parana called Milion. I never would have found this place on my own.

The building was amazing. It is a big old house, mansion, from the 19th century. We went in through a long entrance and entered the garden. From there, we went up a grand marble staircase that led into the house. One of the rooms was a bar. There was funky, cheto, electronic music playing, and lots of hip people sitting around the bar. Cool art hung on the walls of this amazingly lavish building. We went up to the third floor and explored the different rooms before we returned to the first floor and took a table outside on the patio overlooking the garden.

It was very nice atmosphere, but the food was only so-so. I had a matambrita de cerdo with salsa, black beans and mashed carrots. It was a piece of thinly sliced pork with a nice salsa on top and a few sides. The pork was tough though. Hernan had some kind of fish, but to me it was too fishy.

There was some former TV star from the 80's sitting outside on the patio next to us. He had an entourage of young pretty boys and one older woman with a little fluffy dog who had a diamond brooch on her head (on the dog's head, not the woman's). There was also a black cat that made an appearance, but when the cat was outside someone carried the dog inside - they took turns. The entourage table was very busy and people kept coming out and making the kissing rounds. They'd come out through the big glass doors from the bar and go to this table and go around and kiss everyone. My chair kept getting bumped into and cigarette smoke and perfume irritated my nose that was very sensitive from this cold. So actually, even though the building was nice, and the atmosphere was cool, I'd have to give it a lukewarm rating because it was not pleasant to sit outside and smell smoke and perfume and have my chair constantly being bumped into while I was eating. It was also hard to talk because this table was quite loud and the service was mediocre. What was fun was watching the people coming and going and trying to listen to the conversation, though my Spanish seemed to have been turned off tonight (I was understanding very little).

It was an adventure and I always enjoy going to these different places that Hernan takes me to. I'll probably go back to Milion with friends who are coming to visit, but I know that it is a place to go for drinks and not really a great place to eat. Hernan also told me that the crowd changes depending on the day of the week, so for people watching it would be interesting to go back and see who is there on, say, a Wednesday night.

It was a cheto birthday and seems only fitting! This has been the year of living cheto for me - living in the Recoleta, having a maid, not working... Now that I have done it though, I think I prefer my simple middle-class life in SF where I do my own laundry, clean my own apartment and go to work every day!

Brrrrrr.....

2008-11-15T14:17:00.003-02:00

It's cold today. I can't believe it. When I checked the weather report for the week I saw that today was going to be cooler, but I didn't believe it. Last night I heard it raining a little bit (my shutters in my bedroom are closed, so I couldn't see how much), and this morning I stuck my head out the window to check the temperature and it did feel cool. I was going to wear shorts to school, but to be safe, I put on a pair of light cotton pants and a t-shirt. I knew I would be taking a cab to school and thought it would be warm by the time I walked home.

I was wrong.

It was downright cold when I got out of class at 1, and windy. People were wearing jackets and winter coats, though some, like me, I guess didn't check the weather before they got dressed and were wearing shorts and t-shirts. On top of the weather, I must have caught a cold, so I was feeling like coming home and having a cup of hot soup.

Yesterday I had my spa day. This time I went for the "Delux Spa Day for Him", as a treat for my birthday. It included steam with aromatherapy, facial, massage, hydrotherapy (jacuzzi)and a manicure and pedicure. It was nice, but after I was done, I decided I don't need all of those extras. The jacuzzi for me is weird, because I don't know how to sit in a jacuzzi. I like Japanese bathtubs that are deep and long that you can stretch out in. In the jacuzzi I felt very uncomfortable, feeling like my butt was too big or my legs were too long or something. It just wasn't right. Also, the manicure/pedicure was nice, but by that time I really wanted to go home as I was sniffling a lot and wanted to lie down.

My esthetician was the same person who gave me the massage, Monica. I've had her before for facials, but yesterday she did most of my treatments. She's a funny woman. She doesn't seem like a typical Argentine woman (if there is such a thing). I like her massage, but at some points she bordered on being inappropriate and I felt a little uncomfortable. I wonder what it would be like for a woman to have a man massaging her and asking if she's tense because she is going out every night chasing boys. Well, for me, it was uncomfortable for her to imply that my tension was because I was out chasing girls, especially while she was touching my chest or my butt. So far, I like the massage that Christian gives the best and I think next time I am going to request him. The pressure was just right and he didn't make inappropriate conversation.

Today in Arabic class we did our evaluation. Ybti has started writing something that resembles an agenda on the board. Today's was the same as last week. She wrote, "dialogue, reading, writing". She went over some of the questions that will be on our final exam - What's your name, how old are you, where are you from, etc..., and then she passed around a paper with a dialogue and we each took turns reading a line. Crazy. I guess they don't have overhear projectors in Argentina, but for me, if you are not going to make copies, you either have to write it on the board or project it so that everyone can see. It makes no sense to me to have a student on one side of the room reading something that no one else can see.

It was interesting though that right before the evaluation, Nicolas, the guy who asks a lot of questions, and Paris, the woman who is always lost, started telling Ybti what they thought about the class. Nicolas was very diplomatic, saying that Ybti was a wonderful teacher, blah, blah, blah, but.... I enjoyed sitting back and listening to the Spanish. Ybti blamed the fact that the course is badly taught on her coordinator, who she said told her to use the book that we had to buy but don't use. Since we are not using the book, it is kind of a moot point. I wonder if her coordinator taught her the method of pass the book (or today, the page). Nicolas was saying we needed a class more like how Arabic would be taught to children, who don't know how to read. I honestly don't know how the course could have been improved, but I am totally disillusioned with the state of foreign language teaching, not just in Argentina, but worldwide. I think ESL teachers and the training they receive, are far superior and all language teachers would benefit from being exposed to the theories of language acquisition and the methods we use in ESL. Why they are not, is beyond me.

I don't have anything planned for this weekend. I invited Hernan to have lunch tomorrow but we have to wait and see if he is available. Looks like it's going to be a boring birthday for me. I'll celebrate in Buzios!

Fun With Hernan

2008-11-14T11:54:00.002-02:00

Last night I went to Hernan's apartment in San Telmo for dinner. It feels like it's been so long since I've left my little enclave here in the Recoleta. Bascially I have been hanging around here, going back and forth to school, and every now and then I'll walk over to Libertad to take a walk, but that's it. When I got off the subte at Plaza de Mayo, it felt like it had been forever since I'd been there. I was delighted to see that Plaza de Mayo was hosting another loud and energetic protest, and that it was full of trees with purple blossoms - those late blooming trees that stand out like neon all around town - Plaza de Mayo was filled with them. It was a beautiful sight, but unfortunately, I hadn't brought my camera.

Hernan's apartment is cute and basic. It's a small apartment in a large tenement style bulding. There is a small living room and kitchen and a loft with his bed. I couldn't live like that, but for him it works as a rental. The place he was staying in in Palermo last year was so much nicer. I wish he'd find another apartment to rent and stop staying at his mother's so I could see him more. He's fun to hang out with in his slightly neurotic obsessive way.

I got there and rang the buzzer and there was no answer. I reached into my pocket to grab my cell to text him but I had forgotten it. I rang the buzzer again, and no answer. I started to panic, thinking that if his buzzer was not working there would be no way he'd know I was outside. Or maybe he was sleeping? I buzzed again, and again. Then, a guy came across the street and up to the door, he pulled out his key to open the door. Hernan came up right behind him. Hernan went to enter the building, leaving me standing outside. I called him, "Hernan" and like he was just waking up from sleepwalking, he saw me. He had walked right past me without noticing. I guess it is the city dweller's habit of not looking at people as you pass them. He thought I was with his neighbor and didn't look at me.

Dinner was good. He made a papellot with salmon and vegetables and some oven roasted potatoes which were really yummy. We then walked to Puerto Madero to walk alongside the canal and get ice cream.

It was hot, but as we got closer to Puerto Madero, there was a nice breeze. It was a pleasant evening to be out. It was nearly 11 p.m. and all of the restaurants were full and buzzing with activity. I really can't believe that people go out to eat that late on a weeknight! Hernan told me there would be even more people on the weekend.

The ice cream shop we went to was not directly on the canal, but set in closer to the street. It reminded me of an old diner, even though it was an ice cream shop. It had a funky, 60's feel to it, but I doubt it was that old. It felt very local. I didn't see anyone who I thought was a tourist, even though we saw lots of people with cameras clicking pictures as we walked along the canal.

It was a beautiful evening with a gigantic full moon peeking out behind the new high rise construction.

It's really nice to have someone like Hernan to hang out with. I know I've gone back and forth on my feelings about his friendship, but now I recognize that he is going through his own personal stuff and can't be there for me as much as I'd like for him to be. I wish I knew more people like him that I can just hang out with and be laid back with and do interesting things with once in a while. As much fun as it was to walk through San Telmo and Puerto Madero at night, it wouldn't be the same if I did it alone. Meeting new people has been the hardest thing for me on this trip. My classmates and conversation partners don't really seem like the kind of people I'd want to be hanging out with - we don't seem to have much in common and I'm guessing they all have lives of their own and are not interested in breaking from their routines to spend time with me. How to meet people is a question my students always ask me, and I have to say I'm coming up clueless on that one.

Norma Took My Soap

2008-11-13T17:15:00.003-02:00

Norma, the woman who comes once a week to clean my apartment, has been pretty good about leaving things where I leave them when she comes to clean. When I first arrived, for some reason I was getting all stressed out by what seemed to me to be a little tug of war between her and I. I'd leave things in a certain place because it worked better for me and I'd come home on Wednesday to find that she'd moved them. I'd put them back where I wanted and the next Wednesday when I'd come home, I would find that she'd moved them again. Having met her once and received a lecture on the way "Argentines" do things I was sure that this was more than accidental. This was her way of teaching me how to keep my house.

Well, I resented it and didn't like having to look around to find something in the kitchen, or the pair of shoes I left on the floor, or my jacket that I hung on the jacket hanger thing in my bedroom (that she put in the closet), and I wrote to Tomas, the guy who works at the agency I rented from and asked them to ask her not to move things.

After that, she stopped.

But there is still one little area that she seems to be playing games with.

There is a silver soap dish on the sink in the bathroom. I haven't been using it because if I wash my hands with soap, I'll usually just do it in the kitchen, and normally in the bathroom will just wash my hands with water. I think it is kind of messy to put a wet and bubbly bar of soap back on a dish. But I noticed that after Norma was here, the soap dish was always moved from the back of the sink by the mirror, to a position closer to the front of the sink. I don't know why it bothered me, but I always moved it back where it was out of the way.

Each week, after Norma was here, I'd see it had been moved forward again.

It wasn't a big deal, and sometimes I never moved it. But if I did, she always moved it back.

This week, I noticed that she took the soap out of the dish and now the soap dish is all the way back up against the mirror.

I don't know why I find this interesting, but I wonder, what did she do with the soap? Why did she take it? Maybe I am going to get a new bar of soap next week? Am I being punished for not using the soap? Did she take it? Did she throw it away?

To be continued....

I Should Have Blogged Earlier

2008-11-12T23:19:00.002-02:00

I was going to blog earlier today when I got home from Italian class, but I thought I'd have something to report from later in the day. I don't. And now I have forgotten what I did have to say earlier.

Today when I got to Italian class our class had been moved again. I don't know why they keep doing that to us. Next week we'll be back in our old room. I actually like the rooms we get moved to because they are smaller and the acoustics are better.

Today Blas didn't ask us what we did on the weekend. Thank god! I hadn't done much but was prepared to lie. He went over the list of who is bringing what up until the final exam, since we now have this tradition of someone bringing a cake or snack to every class. I thought I'd complain a little and asked why I was the only man who had to bring something. I know it was a little sexist, but someone told me to say that (I forget who). Since I am not in my own kitchen, it is kind of hard for me to bake something really yummy. Well, the response was that Matias had brought a cake and there were no other men in the class. That was partially true. There are a few other guys in the class but they are kind of weird. I regretted saying that, because now that I have figured out what to bring, I am excited.

I sometimes wonder if Blas has a crush on me because he calls on me so much. I am pretty sure he is straight, and I think he likes some of the girls in class, but he pays so much attention to the guys and is really chummy and calls all of the guys by their names, but still doesn't know the names of some of the girls in the class. It is very strange.

My comprehension in class seems to be getting worse as people are feeling more comfortable to chat. It gets noisy and they talk about things that I don't understand.

Today for our break we had two treats. Natalia, the woman who I work with a lot in small groups brought brownies, even though she hadn't been scheduled, and another woman, also Natalia, brought something that looked like blondies and had pieces of merengue in them. Natalias brownies were better.

When the treats were unwrapped a huge discussion ensued among the cheering and clapping and I didn't understand a word of what was said. Then everyone got up and left the room, taking the treats with them. I asked someone what was happening and I was told they were going down to the bar. I guess the idea was that people could get coffee or drinks to go with the snacks.

The bar was noisy as always and as we sat at the table eating our treats, everyone was talking really fast and I understood about 1% of what was said. At one point, one of the older women in the class who Blas calls "Heavy Metal" because her daughter is into heavy metal (when he says it, he makes a funny flogger face and plays air guitar "HEAVY METAL!") said something to me from the other end of the table. I couldn't hear and had no idea what she was saying. The strange Bolivian guy who Blas calls Jesus (English pronunciation) because he thought Madonna meant mother, was sitting next to Heavy Metal. When I didn't understand, Jesus said something to Heavy Metal and they both laughed. I thought they were making fun of me. I wasn't happy. I think I'm doing well for taking two language classes that are being taught in a third language, and if people want to make fun of my lack of comprehension, that is fine with me. I just think Jesus is kind of weird and should not be making fun of people since he is the brunt of so many of Blas' jokes.

Today we did a class evaluation. As much as I would have liked to somehow say something about the things in the class that I didn't like, I had to give Blas a decent evaluation since the items on the form measured the things he did and not the things I would have liked for him to do. Also there were no questions about comfort level, or about the teacher respecting students, or anything like that. There were also questions about the department of students and people at the registrar and in the bookstore. I think I only gave one item an excellent evaluation and gave the rest of them good. I guess we'll be evaluating our Arabic class on Saturday too.

I decided that next year when I come back I will study Portuguese. Hernan and watched a You Tube video yesterday that taught ten phrases in Brazilian Portuguese. I like it. I think it will be fun to learn basic Portuguese. Of course, I'll end up having the same problem I have in Italian class - that the languages are so close and I'll be confused, but who knows, maybe it will be a better experience. I don't want to go on to Arabic 2 here because I am worried that I will be too frustrated, especially if I have Ybti again and we do "pass the book" in class.

I came home to a clean apartment, ate lunch and took a good nap. I was tired this morning because when Hernan came over yesterday we drank coffee and then I couldn't sleep last night. After my nap, I went to the gym and came straight back because it was so bloody hot.

I hope this weather is a freak and that a wave of polar air will come up from the south and cool things off. Well, actually I just checked the weather and today was 86, and tomorrow and Friday look the same, but Saturday they are saying a high of 69 and Sunday, 73. Strange, but I'll take it!

Raul, my conversation exchange partner canceled again today. I texted him and asked what he thought about tonight and mentioned the heat, because to be honest, I didn't want to have to walk to meet him. But, since he canceled, that is it for me. It's been over a month since we last met and I don't like having to walk so far to meet him (he is over by school and since I go at rush hour, there is no point trying to take a cab or bus, since walking is faster at that hour). I've also kind of lost interest in him - I think we have run out of things to talk about and my question about Ford Falcons may have been a major faux pas (I don't know if I wrote about that or not, but it felt uncomfortable and I learned my lesson).

Tomorrow Hernan gets to go back to his place in San Telmo. His tenant is moving out and he will be showing it and trying to rent it for a few more weeks. He's going to make dinner for me and we'll go from there to Puerto Madero. He told me there is a nice walk along the river. I didn't tell him I already did it. It will be different with him as he always shows me interesting things that are off the beaten path.

We're still trying to work out our plans for Buzios. The travel agent said the hotel that we booked in our package does not have any rooms, but there is a posada at the same complex with bungalows and they will give us a discount. Personally, the bungalows sound better to me. I looked at the photos and they look slightly funky but I'd rather stay in a funky bungalow than a funky hotel. I'm mostly interested in making sure we have a view of the ocean from our room and they are saying we would in a bungalow. Next I have to go to the Brazilian Embassy and get a visa. That will be fun since the embassy is in one of the big old mansions that once belonged to the super rich in Buenos Aires before the crash of '29. There are many of these large villas, which resemble palaces, scattered around the city. They were large and lavish, but when people lost their savings in the stock market they could not afford the upkeep, so many of them were sold off as embassies, a few are museums and I think some of them are government offices.

I'm looking forward to finishing up with school and breaking up my routine a bit with this trip. Also some friend from SF will be here next week and my friend Diane is coming in December. It will be nice to end this trip with some companionship. I'm sure Diane and I will have fun as we try to find things to do that don't involve us sweating too much.

Mildly Hellish

2008-11-11T16:19:00.003-02:00

I do not want to be here in summer if this is how hot spring it. I guess I am really spoiled by the beautiful mild San Francisco temperatures. Today is not that bad, but it is still hot. I went to the gym and sweated a bit and stopped at the Disco and bought some fruit and now am enjoying my quiet, air-conditioned apartment.

If I had come down here to write a book, I could have written several by now. I didn't think I would be such a homebody here, but I don't know what I was thinking. I am a total homebody in SF and I actually like spending time at home. My apartment is really comfortable. The difference is that from my apartment I can take nice walks either through a beautiful national park, or to some interesting neighborhoods with good food. And, the walks are pleasant.

What I have discovered here is that it is hard to walk and there is no place to walk to. I watched a little Dr. Phil last night and he was talking to a woman who gets really irritated by little sounds her husband and kids make - like chewing, things they can't avoid doing. Dr. Phil told her she had an aggravated stress response. Today as I was walking to the gym and people were darting one way or another in front of me on the sidewalk, I could feel myself getting stressed out. It was not possible for me to walk one block without someone cutting in front of me from one side of the sidewalk to the other, or blocking the sidewalk. I could not walk in a straight line for one block. By the time I got to Callao, which is about 5 blocks from here, I realized how stressed I was and took a deep breath and thought about the Dr. Phil show last night. I don't know what to do about it, but for now it is an observation.

At some point between that deep breath on the corner and returning home, I came to a decision about next year.

As far as I know, I am supposed to spend 80% of the time I was awarded my sabbatical here. I don't think it specifies when that time needs to be specifically. Since it is too hot now and I am sure it is going to be even hotter in December, I don't want to be here this time next year. I actually liked June last year and July was a little cold, but still bearable. So, I am thinking that next year I will come from June to November, and then I will turn 50 in San Francisco with friends. I thought it would be fun turning 50 here, but it looks like I will be spending it alone (at the spa). Then, I'll be able to go somewhere early in December before prices shoot up for the holidays and maybe even be back in SF to do my family's traditional 7 fish Christmas Eve dinner (I want to do it here, but don't think I can find 7 different kinds of fish).

This is all feeling quite right to me. I can take tango classes before it gets too hot, and also I can do an intensive language class (whatever language I end up studying), and will only take one instead of two, still going to school twice a week. I've also decided I am going to look for another apartment, perhaps in Palermo, because I want to be able to walk to parks and be a little bit more away from the throbbing pulse of the city.

And for now I am planning on going to Buzios with Hernan.

It looks like we can't go after my classes are finished because Hernans' friend Catarina from Quebec is coming on December 17 and he needs to be back by then. So, I checked another travel agent and they have a package available from November 30, for 8 days. It would mean I'd miss my Arabic final, but I don't really need to take the final since I am not taking the class for credit. I'd also miss one more Italian class, but that is fine with me too.

I found a place that is on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Buzios has several different beaches and many of them are beautiful coves with clear blue water. It looks really lovely, like St. Tropez or something. If I like it, maybe next year I will take a trip there in July to escape a little BA winter!

And so, that is what I am up to these days other than trying to stay cool and get back to eating right and exercising. Hernan is stopping by later today and we'll discuss the plans for our little trip.

Hellishly Hot

2008-11-09T23:37:00.002-02:00

It is supposed to be spring here, but today was pretty hot. I think it was another day in the 90's but it was also humid. I hope this is a fluke and some cooler temperatures will return soon before the real summer sweat begins. It seems like spring was really short - just one month of decent temperatures.

So, it was too hot to do anything today. On top of that, I didn't know what to do. I took my time getting moving this morning and spent much of the morning sending e-mails, reading newspapers online and looking at travel sites (more on that later). Finally, around 2:30 or so I went to the gym. They had the air-conditioner on, but for some reason the windows were open too, kind of making it hard for the air-con to cool the place down. They also only had one of the big fans on. I didn't stay long, but did get a decent workout in. It wasn't crowded, I guess because it was Sunday and it was hot.

After the gym I went to the Disco, which also wasn't very crowded. As the cashier was ringing up my food, I realized she hadn't asked me any questions. After I gave her my credit card and photo copy of my passport, she finally did ask, "solo un pago?" - only one payment? I understood perfectly. I think the days of not understanding the questions at the checkout are gone (hopefully).

I came home and was glad to be in the air-conditioning again. When I first got here I stayed inside because it was warm and cozy, now I am inside because it is cool. It's turning out that Buenos Aires is not really a good city to spend a lot of time outside. Not a good thing for me. Definitely I am having doubts about this as a retirement location.

I spoke to Hernan briefly. He sent me an e-mail and said he's been diagnosed with depression and is going to start taking some meds. I feel sorry for the guy because he is so sweet and smart and creative, but he is unable to do what he wants to do because people here don't have enough money to support a vibrant arts scene. So, he supports himself by renting out his apartment and saves money by staying at his mom's. No wonder he is depressed.

I decided that I want to get out of town during the short time after I finish classes and before my friend Diane comes to visit. I've been looking at this website for a travel agency called Asatej and they have packages to a place in Brazil called Buzios, which looks like a cute little beach resort (actually series of beaches) that was made famous in the 60's (or 70's) when Bridget Bardot went there. There are some beautiful beaches and it looks like it might be a nice place to get away to. I'm tired of traveling alone and asked Hernan if he wanted to go, offering to pay for him since I know he doesn't have any money. I think he will be a good travel companion and we'll be able to spend a week together without driving each other nuts.

I was really hoping to find an affordable place that is right on the beach, but it seems impossible. Instead, I think we'll go with one of the places in the package that are located in the center of the little town, and I guess from there we can walk or rent bikes or motorcycles to get to the different beaches. One place that they offer has a nice pool too and I would be perfectly happy just lounging by the pool all day. I hadn't planned on going to Brazil on this trip, but now that the prospect is there, I am excited. I started studying a little Portuguese today just to learn a few expressions.

And that was my day. I spent the rest of the day just cooking, eating (of course) and watching TV. I was going to go out for a walk after dinner but it ended up being late and I didn't feel like going out.

And so, life here has become pretty normal, to the point that I am planning a vacation to get away. I guess there is a lesson in there somewhere, thought I am not sure yet what that might be.

Purple Blossoms and the Ice Cream Bird

2008-11-08T23:50:00.004-02:00

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.

What Should I Do?

2008-11-07T19:38:00.003-02:00

I have sunk into a doldrums of sorts.

Being here has stopped being interesting and is now just kind of normal. That's good in a way because it also means that some of the stress of the early adjustment phases is not bothering me anymore, but it also means I'm kind of bored. I don't have any daily routine to keep me occupied. The election is over and I can only take an hour of CNN at the most. I'm bored.

Hernan is still staying with his mother because he is renting out his place in San Telmo, which means I don't get to see him a lot. My conversation exchanges are not really working out in the way I'd hoped. I like meeting with Carlos, who I will see tomorrow, but my other two partners aren't really going the way I would have liked. Raul and I have not met once in October. I was in Uruguay and then he canceled a few times. I didn't see him last week because I had a doctor's appointment, that ended up being rescheduled and he said he forgot this week when I texted him to see if we were still on. I think we're both feeling a little bored by our meetings. I don't think we have much in common other than both being English teachers. I also worry that I may have made a faux pas when I asked him about Ford Falcons.

I am slightly obsessed with the last dictatorship and from movies I've seen and things I've read, I knew that Ford Falcons were used by the plainsclothes thugs who went and picked up people to be tortured and murdered. I've seen a few Ford Falcons from that era around town (in fact there is one that parks outside of my building sometimes). The last time I met with Raul I asked him about them and I got the feeling that it was not a question to ask him.

From what he has said, I sort of knew that he is conservative. He thinks Menem, the president in the 1990's who went on a privitization spree that ended up in the peso crash of 2001, was a good president. I just wonder if he is one of those people that Juliana told me has been indoctrinated to believe that the dictatorship was a good thing for the country (like those in the US who think the Patriot Act is meant to protect us).

We're supposed to meet next Wednesday, but I am feeling like it has been so long and the thrill is kind of gone and now I am not really keen on meeting up with him. And then there is Matias, the slightly odd guy who I met at school. I was supposed to meet with him last Friday but felt strange after my acupuncture appointment and sent him a text to cancel. I have not heard from him since. Faux pas number 2?

I feel like I should start up my private tango lessons again, but it is hot here. I don't want to go to the classes, because even when it was not hot, I was sweating because I was so nervous. With Marcelo, I also sweated because he made me work hard. I hope that the tango studios are air-conditioned, but from my experience at school the air-con either is not sufficient, or is not on. I guess the only way to know is to try.

The other problem is that since I've been having foot pain from walking so much I have had to curtail my walks. I would love to go out and take a nice walk now as the heat of the day begins to subside, but I can't. I've been doing stretches and things for my feet, but if I walk too much, they begin to hurt again. It's terrible getting old!

I reconnected with three more friends on Facebook! It is an amazing thing. People that I have not seen or heard from in years. Two friends live in Chicago and I was thinking about them as I was watching Obama's speech in Grant Park on Tuesday night (actually for me, Wednesday morning). All of a sudden, the next day I heard from one of my old college buddies, Colby, who is living in Chicago, and then the next day heard from Jake, one of my best friends back then and former roommate. Technology is an amazing thing and if I didn't have this computer here to keep me entertained, what would I be doing?

Joy and Pain

2008-11-05T12:48:00.004-02:00

I stayed up last night until 3:30 a.m. By that point, I was so wired up I couldn't really sleep - voices of Wolf Blitzer dancing like sugarcanes in my head. I woke up exhausted.

I started watching the election coverage long before anything happened or could happen. It was kind of like watching the pre-pre-Oscars. I didn't want to miss the first results though, so I kept myself entertained by switching between CNN in Spanish, regular CNN and the BBC. Each one of the programs had something annoying. CNN had that big bag of hot air, Bill Bennett, former secretary of education under Reagan, who took every opportunity he could to espouse some form of right wing ideology. Every time he started blowing hot air, I'd switch to another channel. On the BBC they had this annoying Republican pollster, Kelli Ann something, when she came on, I'd go to another channel.

At about midnight here it started to become clear that McCain had no chance. He had lost Pennsylvania and Ohio and it seemed like all of the other states that were leaning towards Obama were going to fall his way. I popped open my champagne at that point, thinking that midnight was a good time to open champagne.

But I decided I would stay up until they called the race, which seemed imminent right after the west coast polls closed. I must have dozed off, because when I looked at the TV, they had indeed called it for Obama. So then I decided to stay up and watch his speech. It was a very moving and historical moment and I should be thrilled to death, right?

Well, there was one very dark spot to yesterday's election. Three states had anti-gay ballot measures, Florida, Arizona and California, and all three look like they passed. In California, it means that thousands of couples who were able to get married in the past few months will find themselves in limbo until the courts figure out what to do. It means that thousands more will not have access to the same rights and privileges that any two random heterosexuals can gain just by signing a piece of paper, and it means that the religious regressives who are so itching to impose their views and values on the rest of us feel like they have had a major victory in spite of their major loss, and are going to be empowered to go further. I'm angry, I'm sad, but I also know that in the end, justice will win out and those hateful people will be exposed for the bigots they are. The question is just how long it will take.

How long did it take before Americans realized that enslaving other human beings, degrading and demeaning them was wrong? How long did it take before Americans realized that women were capable of making the same decisions as men in terms of their political leaders? How long did it take before Americans realized that the internment of thousands of innocent Japanese-Americans during WWII was wrong? How long did it take before Americans realized that seperate but equal was not equal? We seem to be slow at realizing - we say one thing and do another when it comes to democracy and fairness. We love to impose our democracy on the rest of the world, but don't seem too good at actually carrying it out ourselves. Yesterday was a historic day because Obama was elected, and because three out of our 50 United States wrote discrimination into their constitutions.

The Champagne Is Chillin.....

2008-11-04T17:26:00.002-02:00

This morning on my way home from the gym I stopped at the chino and bought some bread for my lunch. I was planning on having some wine with dinner tonight while I watched the endless election returns, but instead got a small bottle of champagne. I sure hope I will have a reason to drink it.

It's very warm today. My computer is saying it is 29 degrees, which I think is probably high 70's, low 80's. It feels like summer. Strange to have summer in November.

I had my 2nd Spanish lesson today with my new teacher Leo. He had given me some worksheets last Thursday as a review of the subjunctive, one of the most difficult things about Spanish for me (and many others who study Spanish). It seemed easy when he gave it to me and if I had done it right afterwards, would not have been that bad. But I waited until 30 minutes before he was supposed to arrive before I made any attempt at completing the worksheet and I was totally confused. I looked online for some help but it only made me more confused. By the time he got here, I was in a daze.

I was a bit embarassed because the worksheets had spots and stains on them from food I'd dripped on them. They had been sitting on my coffee table since last Thursday. In addition, I messed up some of the exercises and didn't finish others. He was cool about it though and tried to explain the difference to me.

I found that his grammar explanations felt like a vise around my brain. I was trying to comprehend this theoretical explanation about why we use one subjunctive over another, but it just was not clicking. Finally I told him I needed some coffee and made a quick pot and we both had a cup.

He decided to move on to conversation, and between that and the coffee I began to perk up.

The thing I like about this guy is that he knows what I need, and I need to speak. Those who know me know that I am not always the easiest person to get to speak. When I return from 5 months here, there will be people who will say, "How was Argentina?" and my response will be "it was ok", and unless I am pressed for more, and pressed again, that will be the extent of the conversation.

So, Leo tried a few times to get me to talk, first by asking me what I did on the weekend. I had not done much, so that was a dud. He then asked me what I had done since last Thursday. Again, dud. He asked me what was new in my life. Dud. Then he asked me to tell him about a trip I had taken. He asked me if I had ever been to Europe and I began to tell him about my one and only trip there.

Then we talked about a trip to Nicaragua, and that led us to talking about politics, including my favorite topic of late, the U.S. election. Before I knew it, it was 3:45, and we were supposed to have finished at 3:30.

I kept making the same mistake as I tried to communicate during those two hours, but I never stopped to write anything down and couldn't tell you what the mistake was (other than I noticed I kept making it). So, even though I think I could have been a little more vigilant in trying to understand my mistakes, I think that the exercise of speaking in a foreign language is, in and of itself, very useful.

If learning is a process of creating new pathways in the brain, for me, speaking in another language is an important part of that process. I felt like I was driving around a very complicated roadway and at times would take the wrong turn and had to go back and try again. Thanks to Leo, I was able to find that correct path. And like driving, if you take the same turn over and over again, you reach a point where you don't have to think about where to turn anymore, it becomes kind of automatic (though at times you might still miss the turn).

When I am put in a position where I have to speak a lot of Spanish I can feel like my brain is being engaged on a whole different level. When Leo tried to explain the rules for the subjunctive to me, my brain shut down. But when I had to speak, it was like my brain had come back to life and was alive and awake.

Oh god, I have the TV on in the other room and I can hear the last gasps of John McCain rasping out the same old tired slogans "you'll know thier names!", "fight to the finish", "the Mac is back!" I wish he would just go play golf.

Ok, well, he distracted me from my musings about learning, so I think it is time to go and change the channel until I can assume CNN had begun reporting some results, enough that I will be able to open my champagne before I go to bed.

Oh, and if for some reason this election goes a different way than I am expecting. I think I'll just stay here.

Raisins With Seeds?

2008-11-03T23:11:00.002-02:00

I think all raisins should be seedless. I mean, they are not like grapes where you can spit out the seed. They are all dry and shriveled up and it is impossible to know that there is a seed in them.

Well, I bought a pack of raisins at the Disco and I went to use them today and they have seeds. It's a good thing I tried one before I added them to my curry chicken salad. I have another pack of raisins in my refrigerator that I got at Coto that also have seeds, but I thought it was because they were cheap. It does seem to me that I bought raisins here before that didn't have seeds. Am I spoiled or what?

Today was a very laid back day. I went to the gym in the morning, came home and made a yummy chicken salad with some rotisery chicken I got yesterday at the Disco. Then I took a nap. It was another one of those afternoon naps that went on for too long and it was hard to wake up.

I was going to go out for a walk, but decided against it. My feet have been really hurting me lately. Yesterday I took a look on the internet for plantar fascitis because my friend Sonja had it. I had no idea what it was when she had it, but I had a hunch that it could be a reason why my feet, in particular my heels, hurt.

I was right. Plantar facitis causes pain in the heels of the feet. I found some exercises you can do and today at the gym spent a good 30 minutes stretching my feet and legs. I haven't been doing enough stretching. When I was taking a lot of tango classes and lessons, my legs hurt, but lately, since I've been walking a lot, my feet started to hurt, especially my heels.

So, because I wanted to give my feet a rest, and also because I needed to be back in time for the Patito Feo finale, I just hung around here.

Today was the last episode of Patito Feo. It was a big extravaganza and everything worked out. Patitos father regained his memory and got back with his wife Carmen and Patito and her little brother Joaquin. Patito and Antonella made up and Antonella's girl group "Las Divinas" won the school video dance competition and the Las Divinas went on to become famous. But, Patito also got a record deal for herself and the finale of the show was a concert attended by thousands of screaming girls ranging fron 4-10 years old. My demographic.

The show was fun to watch, but I am so glad it is over. There was too much about it that was just ridiculous and maybe 8 year old girls wouldn't question, but I did. I was constantly talking to the TV and saying "what the ...?" , like when Patito and her girlfriends were sitting outside by the pool and they left her and then Patito stood up facing the water and these two evil girls who were hiding behind a bush ran up behind her and she didn't hear them and they pushed her in the water. Well, if that wasn't bad enough, then she drowned! She couldn't swim and never thought to just stand up in the stupid pool which could not have been that deep. Well, the good thing was that when her father, who still could not remember who he was left her house after telling Carmen that he did not love her because he didn't know who she was, he found Patito unconsious in the pool and dragged her out and gave her mouth to mouth. The shock of seeing this was enough to jar his memory and he regained his full memory. Kind of silly, I know, but I was hooked.

In the end, Patito took off her glasses and let out her braided hair and was a beautiful young woman (who became a pop star). The moral was that beauty is judged not by what is outside but by what is in your heart.

Speaking of heart. I watched CNN tonight (it is like a junk food addiction I have) and they showed a clip of Obama giving a speech somewhere after getting the news that his grandmother had died. I know she was like a mother to him. As he was giving his usual stump speech about wanting to unite America and get beyond the politics of division, I could see tears rolling down his cheek. It was very moving.

I've been really impressed by Obama's heart in this campaign. He was a really tough campaigner, but he never stooped to the level of Hillary in the primaries or McCain in the general election. He never slung mud, made personal attacks or told lies like the other guys did. He kept what he said focused on the issues and always tried to rise above the name-calling. I am hoping that tomorrow's ending will be as happy as Patito Feo. And then I hope President-Elect Obama can go and mourn in peace.

3 months and counting!

2008-11-02T23:55:00.000-02:00

Today is my 3 month anniversary. I still remember that cold rainy day that I arrived back in August (seemed like January). My how things have changed.

Who would think that so much could happen in 3 months? I've started learning a new language, had a health crisis (or two), gained a few pounds (which I am working on losing now), made some friends...mostly I have reached a comfort level in my Spanish that makes me really happy. It is the reason I wanted to live in a place like Buenos Aires and be immersed in Spanish. After my first Spanish class over 30 years ago in high school, I've always struggled with being able to express myself fluently in Spanish. Even the past 3 months have been a struggle. But this week, with new medication helping me to feel like a whole human being again, I started to feel like I could communicate in Spanish.

Today I had some interesting plans lined up, expecting to be asked on Wednesday in Italian class what I did this weekend. I went to the gym first (after spending some time reading news and blogs online). After I came back, I ate lunch and decided I wanted to take a nap. I noticed that JC had texted me. I e-mailed him earlier in the week to see if he wanted to go to this Day of the Dead thing at the Recoleta Cultural Center, next to the cemetary. Hernan said he was going to read some poetry or something and there were going to be art exhibitions, poetry, music, etc.

I didn't want to go alone even if Hernan asked me to go with him because I knew he'd know a lot of people there and either I would have to be sociable or I'd be left awkwardly alone. I thought if JC went with me at least neither of us would know anyone there.

When I texted JC back, he asked me what time the "event" started. I told him 2, and it was already 3:30. He then texted back that he had food poisoning and would contact me later. I didn't buy the food poisoning bit. When I used to work in the newspaper in Philadelphia, food poisoning was the number 1 fake excuse people used to call in sick. It was a convenient excuse because usually you were over it the next day. So it was good for people who wanted one day off and didn't want to have to fake being sick when they returned to work the next day. Also, telling me he would call me later (to get together) raised a red flag.

So, I decided to just go over to the cultural center on my own and see what was happening.

Recoleta, around the cemetary, is a buzz of activity. The streets start to get busy with people walking towards or away from the cemetary, like ants coming from and returning to an ant hill. While most streets are deserted on Sunday, as you get closer to the cemetary, you can see a marked difference.

In front of the cemetary is a large park which has the weekend artisan fair and also some grass that people hang out on (I would never sit on the grass in any park here with the number of dogs that inhabit this place).

By the time I worked my way through the crowds in the periphery of the cemetary and got to the cemetary, I was already feeling claustrophobic (sort of), and decided I was just going to walk through these crowds to see if I saw anything and head elsewhere.

I walked past the cultural center and looked in and didn't see anything of interest and worked my way through the crowds in the artisan fair and eventually made my way back to the streets of Recoleta.

I came home and skyped with my friends Bozena and Diane and just got off the phone with my sister.

Speaking of counting, just one more day until the big day. I can not express how excited I am about this election. I remember my first election in 1980. We all know how that turned out. I was so depressed. Not just that Jimmy Carter lost, but that he lost by such a huge margin. When I was in 6th grade we had a mock debate between Nixon and McGovern. I was McGovern. I lost the mock debate and McGovern lost that election. I feel like I have been cursed since then. I played McGovern, he lost. I voted for Carter. He lost. I voted for Mondale. He lost. I was out of the country when Clinton ran. He won. I voted for Clinton in 1996. He was impeached. I voted for Gore. He lost. I voted for Kerry. He lost. My career as a voter has not been a happy one. And I have been forced to sit and watch as these people I did not vote for did things like instituting policies that have increased the division of wealth in our country to record levels, increase our deficit, gotten us into illegal wars and stripped us of constitutional protections. Who knows if Obama will really be able to affect the change I think he can, but I know I am finally going to have voted for a president who will win, and that just thrills the pants off me! I'd love to be sitting with a bunch of other people on election night with a bottle of champagne watching the results come in, but I guess I'll be here alone, maybe with a bottle of wine, just enjoying the beginning of a new day in America.

Mumtaz

2008-11-01T16:16:00.002-02:00

Mumtaz is one of the first words I learned in Arabic. I mean, it is one of the first words I really learned. I was flitting about my apartment one day, doing something mindless like cleaning or cooking, I don't remember, and this word came to my mind. I didn't know what it was. It wasn't until I went to class the following Saturday and Ybti came around and checked something we had written in our books and said (and wrote in Arabic) mumtaz! It means excellent.

It is interesting to me that I learned this word before any others, yet it was not a word we were explicitly taught. She never wrote it on the board, she never told us what it was, but she used it often with us. Some of the other words that we are "taught" and see once, I could not recall, or even if I saw them, tell you what they meant, if my life depended on it. It's just an observation, but for me the implications are obvious. I won't bore anyone else with what I make of this.

Today's class was smaller. The three libano-siriano kids who spoke some Arabic have stopped coming. Today there were maybe two people absent, so I guess our class has around 11 people. I didn't go to the "phonetics" class (I am now using John McCain air quotes for things I wish to deride), and it is a good thing I didn't because no one else went. There were two students, Ena and Carolina, both from more advanced classes. It would have meant I would have been the absolute lowest in the class with very little opportunity to hide.

When Ybti asked us why we didn't go, I told her I was tired. I guess I could have lied and told her I had a doctor's appointment or something like that. Truth is, I am tired of that class and not sure if I want to go back. I'm being very nice and trying not to show my frustration with the class, that one in particular, which is higher than what it should be and ends up being "pass the book".

Today in our regular class, Ybti tried "pass the book" but it didn't work. My clasmates say when they are confused, and without having a book in front of them, many people were, and they said it. So, she read the dialogue to us and we said what it meant. A better option, but not the best (I would have loved to try to write the dialogue as a dictation and then practice it, but that is beyond her abilities as a teacher).

Once again, this woman Paris, who is an older Lebanese woman who for some reason can not speak Arabic, put Ybti in a bad mood. I didn't really catch what was happening, but at the beginning of class, Paris was sitting very comfortably with her legs crossed and she said something to Ybti about being confused. Ybti responded and Paris responded, but I was completely lost and ended up just observing the physical behavior. Ybti began to raise her voice, but Paris was still smiling and sitting with her legs crossed. It seemed she was being indirectly critical. Ybti was being kind of agressive and trying to move on and begin the class, but in a very dismissive kind of way. And that was it. Paris then uncrossed her legs and her body language became very shut down. It was not a pretty scene for me. I think Paris was probably asking why the class is at the advanced level that it is when we are beginners (at least the words I did understand lead me to believe that was the crux of the issue).

After that, Paris was pretty quite, even withdrawn and Ybti eventually calmed down.

The class is very funny because of the people in the class. One guy, Martin, is especially funny - I guess he is becoming the class clown. Claudia Duffy was there and sat next to me. She is easy to make laugh, so between Martin on her other side and my occasional jokes, Claudia was laughing a lot. I'm glad I am taking the class, and I am learning and making progress in spite of the substandard teaching. Mumtaz!

After class I met my conversation partner from Peru, Carlos. We met at the Facultad de Economicas on Cordoba. The building was quiet except for a few students in some of the classrooms and some people hanging out in the courtyard.

We spent about a half hour in Spanish and then switched to English. I like Carlos, he is easy to talk to. Today he was all dressed up in a pressed shirt and slacks because he met another classmate from his economics program to get some tutoring in math.

As we were finishing up with conversation exchange, he asked me if I could help him with a letter he had translated from Spanish to English. It had to do with an incident that happened between his wife and her former employer. The letter was pretty clearly written, but I didn't understand enough of the situation, so I spent some time clarifying things with him. His intention was to send the letter out and have people sign it and send it to his wife's ex-boss to express solidarity with her.

Briefly what happened was that her boss was paying her but not recording all of her salary, so her pay-stubs were inaccurate and she knew that her recorded pay was what would be used to determine things like unemployment benefits, severance pay, etc. Half of her income was under the table. When she questioned her boss about this, they began harassing her and her clients. Finally the V.P. of the company went Argentine on her (I was suspecting there was a cultural element too, her being from Peru), meaning he got loud and obnoxious and started yelling, and she felt threatened and never returned to work. Now they are trying to get an acurate record of her earnings and also an acurate severance package (based on her real earnings). They are working with different agencies in Buenos Aires, but also sending out these letters and asking people to contact the company. I kind of felt it was only inflaming the situation, but I didn't say that. I also felt that Carlos and his wife needed to sit down with a cross-cultural mediator to try to work things out, but I could be completely reading this thing wrong.

It's a lovely, warm summer-like day. I'm going to go out and take a walk now.

25 Years of Democracy

2008-10-31T22:51:00.002-02:00

Argentina is celebrating 25 years of democracy. Well, I haven't noticed any celebrations, so maybe commemorating is a better word. Last night Hernan was channel surfing and he stopped on a documentary that featured people talking about the Malvinas War (the Falklands War), which was a half-hearted attempt by the failing military dictatorship to whip up nationalistic pride and maintain its power. Well, the war was a disastor and actually brought about the opposite. The military junta was kicked to the curb and Argentina returned to democratic rule. Again, I can't help see parallels with what is happening in the US now. A failing dictatorship (after all there was a coup in 2000) starts a war to increase its popularity and maintain its power. It worked better in the US than in Argentina, if only because defeat was not as immediate and definite. But here we are, on the verge of returning to Democracy, at least I hope.

I had acupuncture today, which was kind of hard to get to since I was up late last night with Hernan. He didn't get here until late and we didn't eat dinner until late and then we watched TV a bit before going to sleep. We did a bit of channel surfing and finally he stopped on War of the Worlds with Tom Cruise. At first we didn't know what it was but it seemed very odd and I thought Tom Cruise's acting was actually very powerful. We didn't see the end, but I imagine he transformed into a heroic figure who saves the world.

For some reason after that, I couldn't sleep. I was afraid I was having an allergic reaction to this new medication because my left palm near my thumb was oddly sore. It was sore all day but as I lay in bed it was throbbing. I lay there imagining me finally getting up and waking Hernan up in the other room and telling him I needed to go to the German Hospital. I guess I eventually dozed off, but I did not sleep much. When I woke up I was tired and feeling kind of achy all over. I also felt like I might be nauseous.

After acupuncture I didn't feel much better. I didn't feel like meeting Matias, my conversation partner for today, so I sent him a text telling him I wasn't feeling well and had to cancel. I never heard back from him, but I am assuming he got the message.

I spent the rest of the day relaxing with a brief trip to the gym.

It was fun hanging out with Hernan last night. Now that I am feeling better I feel more human and we spent the night speaking Spanish. I was feeling confident of my Spanish and he was very uncritical. It was fun for me to speak to him in Spanish because I really like the way he talks.

Hernan told me he could hear the bats outside my window. Right now the windows are open with the shutters closed so I get some air but hopefully no mosquitoes, but I don't hear the bats. I wonder if he was imagining them. It is Halloween after all.

Meniere's Specialist....

2008-10-30T19:18:00.003-02:00

Today I had my long-awaited appointment with the meniere's specialist, Dr. Videla.

I arrived a little early, actually I arrived very early because I was not sure how far the office was from my apartment, but I also knew it was on the corner of Billinghurst and Charcas, and that I like a part of Charcas, so that if I got there early, I would be able to find a place on Charcas to hang out.

Turns out I got there about 45 minutes early. The corner of Billinghurst and Charcas is kind of busy. Charcas seems to be a bus route before part of it widens and turns into a pedestrian walkway with lots of trees. There were some very nice little cafes and things along Charcas, but I didn't want to sit with all of these buses rumbling by, so I walked up a few blocks. I found a very nice ice cream shop on the corner of Charcas and Coronel Diaz and got a cone with figs and congnac and lemon mousse. Both were really good.

After my ice cream, I walked back to the office. The ironic thing is this is the street I walked down after I had my meniere's attack with Juliana in Palermo. I walked right by his office!

I rang the buzzer and the receptionist came out and opened the door for me. No kiss from her (maybe I was supposed to make the first move?) I entered the office to see this bright orange wall with bright lights. I thought it was a cruel joke. If someone were suffering from an attack of vertigo, or even on the verge, that wall would have been torture. I sat in a chair looking right at it. On top of that, the receptionist was wearing a neon fushia sweater. It reminded me of one of those TV shows like Pushing Daisies, that has really exaggerated colors. Finally I moved to another chair, not because of the wall, but because the air-conditioner was blowing right on me.

My appointment was at 5. I arrived a few minutes early, but did not get seen by Dr. Videla until 5:40. I was falling asleep sitting there.

My appointment was interesting. I had just finished a 2 hour lesson with a new Spanish teacher I found on the internet. I hope this doesn't get me into trouble....

I decided I needed to do something with my continuing communication problems. Just living here and watching Patito Feo and my occassional conversation exchanges and studying foreign languages is not helping me progress. I really need some targeted instruction.

I was browsing around on Craigslist and came across an ad for a guy who offered private lessons in home for 40 pesos per hour. That is a little over $10. He does it in two hour blocks of time and the first lesson was half price. I figured it would be worth a shot at least. And him traveling to me was a bonus.

He is a nice guy. I'd guess in his mid-twenties. I told him I needed to speak, and he got what that meant. He made me speak Spanish for two straight hours. I felt like all of this Spanish that has been bottled up inside of me came boiling out! He'd correct me from time to time, but they were not major corrections and they were very helpful. He also let me talk and hardly interjected. In the past, when I've had conversations with teachers, often they'd end up talking more than me. He really gave me the floor and it was amazing how helpful it was for me.

So, after this, I was really revved up. Dr. Videla, upon noting that I was not Argentine, told me we could switch to English, but I figured as long as I understood, we could do it in Spanish.

After getting the basics of my condition, he sat me on a table and had me do different things like hold out my arms, touch my nose, etc., with eyes open and then closed. He did the epley maneuver, which I was warned could make me dizzy, but there was no effect. He did some tests with tuning forks to test my hearing and it was clear that my left side has diminished hearing, especially for low tones.

Then he sat me down and showed me a little slide show on his computer about meniere's. I saw a picture of Dr. Meniere and a diagram of the inner ear - one normal, and one affected by meniere's. He then showed me a diagram with colored boxes sort of rising in step fashion - each one representing different stages of treatment from the easiest and least invasive to the most intensive and most invasive. I was at step two. I'm already on a low salt diet, and step two is taking betahistine (which I started this past Sunday). Step three is an injection of an antibiotic called gentamine or something like that, which has some side effects but kills off the balance sensors. Because of the side effects it is not a first option.

So, basically there isn't a whole lot that I can do at this point, but if I continue to take the betahistine and feel like I am feeling, I will be happy. The question is whether or not it is available in the U.S.

Dr. Videla wanted me to have some hearing tests done, but I decided to wait until I return to the US so I can return to the doctor I went to before and they can compare my tests from 6 years ago to now. If there is something Dr. Videla can do that they can't do in SF, then I will be back.

After that, he just chatted with me, which helped me to understand why I saw him 40 minutes later than I was scheduled. He asked me if I knew of a journalist, Hal, something. I had no idea what he was talking about. Then he told me about the "Amero", which is a new currency that is being proposed for Canada, the US and Mexico,kind of like the Euro. This guy Hal, has videos on You Tube where he is ranting about this currency and saying that everyone knows that the dollar is going to collapse and they are going to introduce this Amero. There is some China connection as well. I came home and found one of the videos of Hal but could only listen to him for a few minutes. He's a nutcase who reminds me of Bill O'Reilly on steroids. However, there is info about the Amero on Wikipedia (I love Wikipedia!)

And that is that.

Hernan is going to come by and we're going to cook. Well, that was kind of the plan, but since he is coming later than I thought, I will cook, and when he gets here, we'll eat. He's going to sleep on my sofa and leave with me tomorrow when I go to acupuncture. Tomorrow I'm meeting Matias for our conversation exchange. I wonder what we'll talk about.

Ok, it's off to the Disco to get some food for dinner.

Gnocchi Day

2008-10-29T14:36:00.002-02:00

Today is the 29th, time for gnocchi, or as they say here "ñoquis". I had forgotten the date and as I walked to school this morning and passed by a pasta shop which usually has ravioli, tortellini and other pastas in the window, I noticed they had only gnocchi. Still, I didn't make the connection until Natalia mentioned in Italian class that I was supposed to eat gnocchi today. On my way home from class I stopped at the pasta shop and picked up a kilo of gnocchi (I don't know why I got so many, but I thought I'd freeze some), and I took out a container of sauce I made a few weeks ago from the freezer. I'm all set for gnocchi tonight.

I was also all set for my appointment with the meniere's specialist. I came home from school, ate lunch and was just hanging out until a time when I could wander over to where the specialist's office is - not too far from here. I thought I'd take my time walking over, and then find a cafe or something and sit outside and enjoy the beautiful weather we're having.

Instead, I got a call on my cell phone which I missed, but when I listened to the message I heard "this is Lorenza from Dr. Videla's office you *had* an appointment today for 4 o'clock (and then I didn't understand... and then...) if you want, tomorrow at 5:00, please call me at this number - blah, blah, blah..."

I guessed from what I understood from the message that they were calling me an hour and a half before my appointment to cancel it! Needless to say, I am pissed, but what can I do? I just spoke to Lorenza and she explained that the doctor had a meeting. Actually, he had an appointment with me! I told her I thought it was a little late to change an appointment, didn't she think?

So, now I have to wait one more day to see what this guy can do for me. I was very hopeful and woke up excited today like I used to when we'd have class trips in elementary school. I felt like today was going to bring a change in my life if I had found someone who could help me avoid these unexpected episodes of vertigo. And now, here I am, stuck with an unplanned afternoon and not feeling like doing anything because I wanted to see this doctor. Oh well, I guess I need to just get over it.

Today's Italian class was good, partly because I think this new medicine I am taking is really helping. I haven't even felt near the possibility of having a vertigo attack since I switched to it on Sunday. I am taking it as the doctor directed - one pill at night and one in the morning. I haven't noticed any side effects, though it may make me sleepy, but I am always sleepy....

Our class was small today. Blas looked either hung over, tired, or pissed off when he first got to class and there were only three of us there. He wandered out of the room and came back and there were four of us, and he left again and when he came back there were maybe eight of us. Eventually, people showed up, but there were still a lot of people missing.

He started off asking about our weekends and as usual, he looked at me first and said, "Reeshard???" I now try to do something on the weekend so that I will have something to talk about. I told him about going to Puerto Madero on Sunday. We had a little discussion about the Ecological Reserve and then he asked me what I did on Saturday! What the #*!*&??? Well, fortunately, I had done something on Saturday too...

My buddy Hanna was not there today so I worked with another girl, I can't remember her name, but she is Asian. I wasn't sure about her background, but she speaks fluent Spanish and seems to have been born here. Later I found out from her conversation with Blas that she is Japanese, but she doesn't speak Japanese, so she must be 2nd generation. I'll try to ask her next week.

I also found out that the slightly odd guy who always comes to class late (even after the break) who Blas calls Jesus is from Bolivia. It really would have been nice if we'd had more time to get to find out about each other. The only way we do this is when Blas decides he is going to put someone on the spot. I get put on the spot a lot and don't really know why. Maybe it is because I speak such good Italian?

For some reason another student brought a cake today. It wasn't her birthday, at least I don't think so, because we didn't sing. She brought tiramisu and it was pretty good. After we ate that, somehow it was decided that someone would bring a cake for the remaining classes. As Blas tried to pin down who would bring what, he looked at me and said, "Reeshard?" Why me???!!!

I told him I would bring something in three weeks after my birthday, which is on November 16. So that means on November 19 I need to bring something. I told him I could not bake because I don't understand my oven and I don't have baking items. Now I have to think about what I can bring. I was just looking at cannoli recipes and would love to be able to make something Italian, but I just don't know.

Well, now I need to figure out what I am going to do today. I had told Raul I couldn't meet him today because I didn't know how long this appointment would last and didn't want to have to rush across town to meet him. It is a gorgeous day. Another day of low humidity and the sky is clear blue with big puffy white clouds. I guess I'll go to the gym and then come home and prepare my gnocchi.

What is a Maverick Anyway?

2008-10-28T14:23:00.001-02:00

Since "maverick" has my name embedded it in, I took interest in the use of this word. Here's a cute video from some REAL Mavericks.

The Internet

2008-10-28T10:29:00.002-02:00

I have to post something about the internet, since it has been such a huge part of this trip and this adventure for me. I am continually amazed at what we can do. I wonder if people had similar experiences in the early days of the telephone???

Aside from the obvious things that the internet has done for me which were not available when I moved to Japan - getting information about the country, booking flights, finding an apartment, etc., since I have been here, my internet experience has been almost as exciting as my real life experience, sometimes, even more so.

I've been able to use the internet to get references and find services I need - chiropractor, acupuncture, spa, specialists, conversation partners, food, medical information, hotels, etc. I am keeping up with the news and the circus of the presidential election, I am staying in touch with friends and family (well, marginally with family - because it has to be two-way). But the most amazing thing that has happened in the past few months is that I have reconnected with a whole host of people from my past. It is almost surreal.

First, it was through facebook that I got connected with two of my early "loves of my life". These were two guys who I was madly and foolishly in love with. Both were in relationships with other guys and I was sort of a "mister" on the side. Both relationships were very painful for me and both guys moved to New York and we lost touch. I reconnected with one of them back in 1994 when I was in NYC and looked him up in the phone book, but the other, Tim, seemed lost forever. It has been great to catch up with them again and see who they have become. Along with them, I also reconnected with a few people who were my buds when I was in Art School in Philly.

Then I got an e-mail from a former high school classmate telling me that our 30th High School reunion was approaching. I couldn't go, of course, but since then I've been in contact with a few of my former classmates. Very weird to communicate with people you have not seen for 30 years.

I found out that one of my friends from elementary school just died, at the age of 48. We were friends in elementary school, but when we got to high school he became the valedictorian and I became kind of a dick. I was friends with other people who didn't like him and we kind of tortured him. After we graduated we lost touch. And now I find out he just died a few weeks ago, that he was living in Florida with his partner (I had no idea whether he was gay or not, though I suspected), and his death seems totally mysterious to me.

And now today, I got a message on Facebook from a good old friend from Philadelphia who I used to work at the Philadelphia Inquirer with. We lost touch when I moved to Japan in 1989. She is now in Singapore and her husband is working for the US Embassy there.

I don't know if it is because I have so much free time and am on the internet so much, or if something is happening as the internet becomes more and more sophisticated, but it is weird to be reconnecting with people that I thought I had lost contact with, and it is especially weird to be doing it from Argentina.

Just Another Monday....sort of

2008-10-27T23:15:00.002-02:00

Today felt like just a regular old day, but as I started thinking about everything I did today, I did a lot! I guess it was regular in that I'm beginning to return to a sort of regular routine and doing things.

I got up and went to my acupuncture appointment. As usual, I was running late (a 9 a.m. appointment seems REALLY early for me), so I took a cab. The acupuncturist is a block away from my school, but unfortunately we can't seem to get appointments right after my classes. It's ok though, at least I'm familiar with the neighborhood.

Dr. Lermer did the same treatment as last time. I noticed that the machine he puts against my ear is some kind of magnetic therapy. Hmm.... interesting...

He didn't replace the seeds in my ear and told me to continue giving them little massages. When I went to pay him the 50 pesos, he handed back the bill I gave him and asked me to give him a different one. He told me it was a fake bill and showed me this silver stripe that kind of looks like a thin strip of aluminum foil and said it was supposed to be like a dotted line and this one was a completely continuous one. I couldn't believe someone had pawned a fake 50 on me!

I walked home, feeling kind of "off" and hoping I wasn't going to get an attack. I switched to the medicine I got at the German Hospital after one of my tango buddies from San Francisco sent me a list of treatments that are used for meniere's and their tested efficacy. The drug I got from the doctor here is used in Europe but apparently is not available in the US. I figured I would try it since the Europeans think it is better than meclizine. I took one pill yesterday and had a fine day. I wasn't sure about today.

But I got home ok. I had a cup of tea and then laid down to take a nap. Someone was coming at 1:30 to clean my air-conditioner and I wanted to be out of here by then so I decided to just rest. I didn't actually sleep, but lying down did help me to get over the feeling that something might happen.

I checked my stash of small bills that I was putting away for my private tango classes. Marcelo charges 75 pesos per hour and since change is hard to come by and I can't expect him to change a 100 peso note, I stash 50's, 20's and 5's, every time I get them (I am one of the reasons no one has change). According to what Dr. Lermer showed me as a fake bill, I found one other among my bill stash, meaning I had 100 pesos in fake bills.

I left around 1 and headed back to the restaurant where I had my attack last week. I thought I'd try again. But first I decided to change more dollars since the dollar is so strong against the peso (it is now 3.31 pesos to the dollar, and when I first got here it was 3.03). On my way I was thinking of where I could get rid of these fake 50's. Someone had obviously slipped them to me, and unsuspecting foreigner, and maybe most people don't care - I mean what is money anyway?

I went to the money changer and after she finished giving my bills, I showed her one of the fake 50's and asked her if it was fake - I thought I'd get a professional opinion. She said, no, it is not fake, why? I told her someone had told me it was fake and showed her to solid silver line. She said it was just that someone had repaired it and lifted the silver strip up to show a dotted line underneath. She also told me that the watermark was how you could tell if a bill was fake. Turns out Dr. Lermer was full of shit.

Funny thing though was that she thought I was asking about a 50 that she just gave me and she took it and gave me a different one. I think she thought I was accusing her of giving me a fake bill. Now I only had one suspect 50, but I was assured that it was fine.

The restaurant is called La Cholita, and is a long space that has kind of rustic furniture, newsprint table covers with a basket of crayons on each table. It is a parilla, so they do meat, but they also have salads and grilled veggies. The people who work there are all young, hip, good-looking and wear black. It's a laid-back kind of place. I like it.

It is right up the street from my gym, so I thought I'd eat a small lunch and then go to the gym. Well, I ended up having quite a large lunch and didn't want to work out right afterwards, so I walked down Santa Fe, thinking I'd do some window shopping.

Last year when I lived further down on Arenales, I walked down Santa Fe regularly, but now I am living further up and walk down a different part of Santa Fe. I realized I missed the part I got to know last year.

I had only walked one block but had passed lots of tempting windows, when I was at Montevideo, which is where Club Creativo is. This is where I got my hair cut. I called yesterday wanting to make an appointment for today, and it sounded like they were having a party. I was told to call back today.

Well, instead, I thought I would just walk in.

I think in Argentine Spanish they have a different word for appointment. I've been using the word "cita", which people seem to understand, but I keep hearing "turno". I need to ask one of my conversation partners what is correct and how to say I want to make an appointment, or I have an appointment.

The girl at the desk, looking very fashionable in her bob and sporty glasses seemed confused when I said I didn't have an appointment 'cita'. She didn't ask if I had been there before or if I had a preference who cut my hair. She just told me to have a seat.

Then, another waif-like young woman wearing trendy clothes and sporting a long shag haircut took me in the back to wash my hair. She brought me out and handed me over to a guy to cut my hair.

The stern guy who cut my hair last time was not there. He gave me a really good haircut, but I was kind of uncomfortable in his chair because he didn't make conversation. Well, this guy didn't make conversation either.

In my worst Spanish, I tried to give him some guidelines on what I wanted - long in back, short on sides, long on top and this tuft of hair in front, I have no idea. It was not nearly as fluent as what I just wrote, but he got the idea. Amazing what hand gestures can do.

I got a good haircut and again am amazed at the precision these guys have with scissors. He was snipping away like Edward Scissorshand. The barbers I've been going to in San Francsico cut hair like they are using a chainsaw in comparison (I thought I'd switch from expensive salons to cheap barbers since my hair was so short).

I left there and was tempted to cross the street to Freddo, but instead went to the gym and found that the gym in the afternoon is nice and quiet. I seemed to have gotten there just as the lunch crowd was leaving (2:30).

Finally, after the gym, I came home, expecting to find everything back in order and the apartment cleaned up (because they were sending Norma to clean up the air-con guy's mess). Instead I walked in to find my apartment upside down and the air-con guy along with one of the guys from the rental office still here. Apparently, they got off to a late start.

I thought about going out again, but instead sat down and watched some CNN. It is like junk food. Totally devoid of anything nutritional, but addictive and very bad for you.

When they left, Norma came a knocking. By then I was on my computer sending some e-mails. She told me Andres had called and told her she had to come over and she told Andres that he was not her boss. Norma likes to talk. It was a good thing I was on the computer because I pretended I was working. Still, even though she said she would not bother me, she told me some stories.

It is very funny that she keeps talking about popcorn. After she brought home the chocolate bar that I bought in the duty free shop on Buquebus, her husband (she claims) asked if I knew how to make popcorn and said he would make a batch of popcorn and bring it over (what the %$@!@$!?) I find this story funny because this is the 2nd time I've heard it, so apparently it is important. Well, maybe not.

Another thing Norma told me was fascinating. It was a story and kind of went like this.

(Imagine voice of Norma in Spanish)

My husband works a lot. He works Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. He works Sunday until mid-day. He works in Constitution and Balvanera and he fixed Ralf's roof. I told Ralf I need the month of February off. I am not coming in February. My husband works every day, but in February we don't work. So I told Ralf that I would not be here in February. (she then points to the painting behind my bed and says) - last February I did not work because we took off. My husband works all the time, but February we did not work, so I did not come here. One tourist (female) was staying here and she went crazy. Look, you can see where she damaged the walls, and the ceiling (and Norma pointed and you could see scars on the walls and the ceiling) and she said someone got in and was trying to attack her, but I think she took some drugs or something, and she broke the shades (and she showed me tears in teh shades) and the window and glass fell down out from the window (and all of this time she is sweeping and I am sitting in front of my computer with a half-written e-mail because she said she was not going to bother me). She said the police came and everything. I just said "guau" (translation - wow). I didn't know what else to say. I didn't know why she was telling me this story, interesting as it was.

After she left, things were kind of routine. I watched Patito Feo, some news, ate dinner and watched Ellen. I love being able to see Ellen re-runs (from her sit-com, not her talk show). It really was a funny show before it got run off the air.

So, what seemed like just another ordinary day was not really all that ordinary, but I am guessing that any one of anyone's days, when examined would turn out to be not so ordinary after all. Maybe if everyone was blogging about their lives they'd see that it is a series of twists and turns and you never know where it is going.

Puerto Madero

2008-10-26T23:28:00.004-02:00

Today was a good day.

I started off slow since the clock on my computer for some reason sprung back an hour. I was sitting here, checking e-mail, reading the Huffington Post, just wasting time and when I went into the kitchen, I was surprised at what time it was. It was already 11:00.

I had plans today to meet a new conversation partner. I thought we were going to meet early, but there was no reason to think that since we had not arranged a time. But I got my butt in gear and went to the gym and had a good workout. I came home called Juan Carlos, my new partner. He told me he had to meet a friend around 2 and would call me again around 4:30. I had rushed to make sure I was home from the gym so I could contact him, so I was a little perturbed, but not greatly, as this gave me a little more time to relax, since I was tired after the gym. But I was hungry, so I went to the Disco to pick up some goods, ate lunch and then took a short nap. My friend Diane skyped me and while we were talking, Juan Carlos called me. He said we could meet at 7.

Again, I was a little miffed because I thought we were going to meet earlier. But it turned out to be a really wise decision on his part.

At about 6 I decided I was going to walk to Plaza de Mayo, where we were going to meet, rather than take the subte, because it was a beautiful evening. I also wanted to walk past my old building further down on Arenales, where I stayed last year.

It was kind of warm, but nice to walk, and the city seemed deserted. I really enjoyed the walk.

When I got to my old block I was amazed to see how the trees were filled with leaves and cast a green canopy over the street. It was very lush and smelled fresh. I saw the little old man who lived in my old building and sometimes rode the elevator with me. He always smelled very strongly of urine and eventually I started trying to avoid him. He was wearing a jacket, even though it was probably in the 80's. It was very warm.

I walked down Florida Street, a major shopping and pedestrian walkway that runs from Plaza San Martin to Plaza de Mayo. It's always a good place for people watching. It was filled with tons of Brazilians and others - tourists and locals. It seems to be the place to go, especially for tourists since there are many hotels in the area. There are also vendors lined up in the middle of the walkway, tango dancers, musicians and human statues. It has kind of a carnival atmosphere. I was walking at a brisk pace though, or at least trying to, and that is not the thing to attempt on Florida Street. Florida Street is meant for a stroll. There was a lot going on with the crowds, and the heat, and me zig-zagging back and forth to try maneuver myself through the obstacles. I found myself at Plaza de Mayo a little early. I went to Burger King and got a grapefruit soda and sat and relaxed for a few minutes before going over to meet JC (Juan Carlos).

Plaza de Mayo is a really special place for me. It's kind of dumpy from the thousands of pigeons that flock there and are fed by tourists, and the graffiti that covers the buildings around the plaza, and the fact that people only go there to protest and never to just hang out, but I like that it exists. It's kind of like the corner of 18th and Castro in San Francisco. When something happens that affects the gay community, whether it is another homophobic piece of legislation, another hate crime, or even something positive (like the death of Jesse Helms), people know that they can go to 18th and Castro, or Harvey Milk Plaza and find a group of people assembling to do someting.

Plaza de Mayo is where all of the protests in the city end up and it is where the mothers of the disappeared, and the grandmothers, met every Thursday during the dictatorship for their silent proetests and still meet today.

The plaza also sits in the middle of a collection of grandiose buildings of historic, religious, political or economic significance.

JC and I met up and we walked to Puerto Madero, a posh new part of Buenos Aires that is built on the old docks. There is a canal that runs through Puerto Madero and the canal is lined on one side with old warehouse buildings some with restaurants and shops, and on the other side, new shiny, glass and steel buildings, restaurants, hotels, etc.

The walkway (JC called it a boardwalk, but it wasn't a boardwalk really) was crowded with all types of people, while others sat outside at the posh restaurants and cafes. At one point we passed through a huge crowd listening to two opera singers at a restaurant who were singing outside. We arrived just as the singers hit the peak part of the song and the crowd started to applaud. I felt like they were applauding us for some reason, because they started just as we got there and continued as we weaved our way through the crowd, kind of like Congres does for the president when he arrives to give his State of the Union address.

From the canal, we walked back to a street that ran along the outer edges of the ecological reserve. We walked through new construction, deluxe high rises (I found the neighborhood I want to retire in if I retire in Buenos Aires!) until we got to the ecological reserve. The street was lined with cheap outdoor parillas and people hanging out enjoying the evening. Everywhere we went, we came across new sights, sounds and smells. I really felt like I was in a different city.

Finally, we sat outside at a Mexican restaurant and had a drink and some snacks - tacos, quesadillas, guacamole, etc.

JC is a really nice guy. He's from Paraguay but his father is Argentine, so he is an Argentine citizen too. He lived for 10 years in Florida and his English is perfect. We only spoke English simply because I was enjoying talking to him. The next time we meet, I'll ask if we can do only Spanish.

There is so much more I could write about today but I've written quite a bit. I had a good time and am looking forward to getting together with JC again to practice Spanish and also just to hang out. He doesn't know many people here and is bored at home. I think both of us want someone to be able to do things with.

Ok, it's almost midnight and I have an acupuncture appointment tomorrow at 9. I've been having problems with clocks and time and stuff like that, so I don't want to take any chances.

New Conversation Partner

2008-10-25T20:18:00.003-02:00

Today after my Arabic class, I met a new conversation partner. His name is Carlos and he is from Peru. He is studying English at CUI as well as working on a masters in economics.

Meeting a conversation partner for the first time is kind of like a blind date. In most cases, I have no idea what they look like, though some have sent me photos first. We don't know if we'll click or not. Carlos was a good date. He's a nice guy, he was friendly and easy to talk to. He is here in Buenos Aires with his wife.

We spoke first in Spanish and then switched to English. I liked that he asked me questions about a lesson he didn't understand and then also asked me questions in English to get me talking. It was easy talking to him and I didn't feel like I was doing all of the work.

After we finished, we walked to Cordoba to the Facultad de Economics where he has classes and looked to see if there were empty classrooms for next week. Because Carlos is studying at a center near there and the bar at CUI seems to close at 2:30, we thought it would be better to find another place. I liked going inside of this large building that I pass often. It is kind of hard to describe what it is like, but it reminded me of some of the ex-monasteries I visited in Mexico.

Arabic class was ok. I am definitely learning and Ybti is taking note. I still am not up there with the advanced students in the class, but there are also others who are more confused than I am. Ybti seemed to be in a bad mood today. I think it was in part due to Paris, who she seems to have growing intolerance towards. Again during the break, she was bad mouthing her.

We basically just go through exercises in the book and never really recycle or practice anything. There was this whole dialogue that we worked through that would have been a great jumping off point for us to practice asking and answering questions such as "Where are you from?", "How old are you?", etc. But once we finished it, we moved on to the next thing. It is just impossible to learn as much as we cover in a three-hour class without any practice.

After coming home I was tired, but I watched some Bill Moyers on my computer and then decided I needed to exercise. I was going to go to the gym but opted instead for a walk. I went out with shorts and a t-shirt, thinking it was warm, but when I got outside it was breezy and kind of chilly. Still, I walked.

I walked over to Avenida Libertad, a wide Avenue on the northern edge of the city and runs up through Palermo. There are large green, grassy areas between Libertad and another large avenue that runs in the opposite direction, and both streets are lined with big, luxury high rise buildings with shiny glass and bronze and doormen. Once I got into the sun, it was actually a very nice day. By the time I got back, I was sweating.

Spring is still springing. While there are a lot of trees that are full and green, like the big sycamore trees that line many of the streets, there are still some trees that have not yet bloomed and are still bare. Today I noticed that some of them are starting to sprout blossoms. I saw pink, yellow and purple flowers on different trees. I look forward to continuing to see how Buenos Aires changes as the seasons pass. It was only in the 70's today, but it was quite humid, and felt warm (most of the time). I am beginning to think about ways that I can escape the summer heat in December after my classes finish. I'm thinking of a week getaway to some beach before my friend Diane comes on the 21st of December.

Looking for a Miracle

2008-10-24T11:00:00.004-02:00

Well, not really, though a miracle would be nice....

Today I had an appointment for acupuncture with a guy named Angel Lermer. I found him on Indextar, a site where expats review and recommend different services in Buenos Aires. From the reviews, it seemed that he made house calls, but when I called him, he told me to come to his office.

For some reason we had major communication issues. I understood our appointment to be today, Friday (Viernes) at 9. On Wednesday, during my Italian class, my phone rang twice. I just turned it off when it rang, but when I checked the message later, one was from Dr. Lermer. I thought he was calling to confirm our appointment on Friday and didn't bother to call him back. Later that day my phone rang and I answered it and it was him. He said we'd had an appointment for that morning at 9. I told him it was Friday. I thought he was confused.

Today I woke up and looked at my clock and thought it was 6:25. The birds were going crazy chirping away outside and the bird that sounds like an ice cream truck was chirping the loudest of all. I thought it was way too early to get up so I rolled over for another snooze. But my body was achy from lying in bed so long and I decided instead to get up and take a meclizine so that when I finally did roll out of bed I wouldn't have to worry about having a vertigo attack. When I went into the kitchen, through the blurry haze of my morning vision, I looked at the clock and it said 8:35. I guess I misread the clock next to my bed! My appointment was at 9:00.

I quickly brushed my teeth and washed my face and got dressed. I didn't have time to shower, so I splashed on some cologne and ran out. I caught a taxi and arrived a little before 9.

I had written down Uriburu 185, as the address. As I looked for 185, I saw 187 and 183, but no 185. It didn't look like any building on the odd numbered side of the street could be the right one. But looking across the street at 184, it called out to me. It was a big stone building that had a buzzer outside that looked like the kind of building an acupuncturist would be in. Fortunately, I had my cell and I called and sure enough, I had written down the wrong address.

Dr. Lermer's office looked like a doctor's office, even more so than my chiropractor's office, which looks like a chiropractor's office in an apartment. There was a little waiting room with magazines and lots of certificates on the wall. Dr. Lermer was wearing a white lab coat and was a very handsome elderly gentleman with white hair and sparkling blue eyes. He went into the consultation room and I sat in the waiting room looking at his certificates, most of which were for sport medicine. It seemed that he was a kineseoligo, which I think is a chiropractor. I was worried that when I went into the consultation room I would find one of those upright massage tables that my chirporactor uses.

Fortunately, that was not the case. There were some chairs, and two beds. I sat down in the chair and he asked me some questions. You'd think that as many times as I've told people what is going on with me, that it would be easy, but I still lack a lot of vocabulary to be able to describe my symptoms, how long this has been happening, how often it happens, etc. Fortunately Dr. Lermer got the gist and had me lie down on one of the beds, and to my delight, he put some needles in different points on my ankle, leg and hand. He was indeed an acupuncturist.

Then he wheeled this strange looking machine up next to me and asked me if they had ever done something to me. I knew that I had never had this done, even though I didn't know what it was, so I replied no. He put this metal thing next to my ear and turned on the machine. I have no idea what it was, but I liked it.

Every now and then he'd come back and adjust the needles and reposition the thing next to my ear to make sure it was flush up against it.

After taking the needles out, he said he was going to put seeds in my ear. Wow! I was geting a full treatment. All I needed next was a massage! After putting the seeds on many of the same points that Gonzalo used, he told me I should massage the seeds 3-4 times a day, which was different from Gonzalo, who always told me not to touch them.

When we were finished, I asked him if it was 100 pesos, since that was what I had written down, and he told me 50. I don't know what happened that I got the address wrong 185 instead of 184, and the price wrong 100 vs. 50 pesos, and who knows, I may have also misunderstood the day. What is happening to my Spanish!?!

I asked him if he wanted me to come back and he said yes, that unfortunately this was not magic, and we'd have to continue treatemtns for about a month.

And so, while there may not be a miracle cure, it seems that I am going to be spending a lot of time in the next two months visiting a variety of pracitioners to get this monster inside my head under control.

In other news, Cristina Kirchner de Fernandez, presidenta de Argentina, made a decision to nationalize private pension plans. I don't know what it is about, but the expat blogs are buzzing about it and I saw on CNN that her decision caused a tumble in the Spanish stock market and banking sector.

It's another beautiful spring day with low humidity. Seems to me that October is a fine time to visit Argentina!

Spring is Nice!

2008-10-23T23:28:00.003-02:00

Spring here is glorious. It is interesting to see how the feel of the city has changed now that the weather is warm every day and the trees are full and green and flowers are blooming and birds are singing. I love spring, and Buenos Aires really seems to be springing forth.

Since the rain we had the other day, the past two days have been warm and clear with low humidity, which I have figured out is a factor that agrees with me. I couldn't quite put my finger on the quality that was in the air on Wednesday that appealed to me so much - turned out it was the lack of humidity.

This morning I went to the gym. I kind of had to force myself to go. Since the recent string of vertigo attacks, I've been afraid to move a whole lot, which means that exercise has not been as regular a part of my life as I would like it to be. That, along with the fact that when I am having attacks, I crave comfort food, which for me is bread, cake and sweets, I've grown a little paunch and feel uncomfortable physically. So, today, after popping a meclizine and hoping for the best, I went to the gym and had a good workout.

It was a nice walk home in the warm, fresh morning air, and I had leftover Arabic food from my delivery last night. I ordered a warm sampler plate from the Club Libano-Siriano. It was as good as the cold sampler I got on Friday. I still have enough food for two more meals. These plates would be great to order for a small party.

After lunch I tried watching the Colbert Report online but for some reason the connection was really slow and I got frustrated. I decided to take a nap, and again, had one of those naps that I could just not wake up from. I don't know what this is about. When I finally do force myself out of bed, I feel really groggy and it takes me a while to recover. I'm not sure that these naps are a good thing, but it feels like my body needs them.

I watched a little CNN and then my two Spanish programs that I watch. My favorite program, Tardes de Accion has been taken off the air and replaced by another soap opera. This one is with a family of aliens who pass themselves off as humans. It is weird and kooky, but it's good language practice. They say, "che" a lot. And because the aliens don't know Argentine Spanish, there is a lot of emphasis on Argentine words like "pibe" (guy), "mina" (girl), etc...

After that, I watched Patito Feo, which I still only understand about 75% of. I understand the story, but not everything that is said. Patito's father, Leandro, still has amnesia, but Patito told him he is her father, even though the doctors advised against it. The funny thing on the show is that one character is an "emo" and another is a "flogger". If you don't know what these are, you can refer to my earlier posting on them. I find this whole urban tribes phenomena to be quite strange and wonder if we have this type of thing in the U.S.

It was a beautiful evening and I needed some exercise, so I went out for a walk. I walked through some nice, quiet neighborhoods and arrived at Avenida Libertad which has a large grassy area that is kind of like a park. People were playing soccer and lots of people were running. Even though there was also a lot of traffic, it was nice to be out on this beautiful spring evening.

Tomorrow I have an acupuncture appointment. We'll see how it goes. This guy, Angel Lermer, was recommended on the expat site. I think it's a little expensive. He charges 100 pesos (about 30 USD). I think I might be able to find cheaper. All of my hope is invested in the apointment next Wednesday with the meniere's specialist. I hope that he can help me to get back to living a somewhat normal life.

I Try to Disappear

2008-10-22T16:58:00.003-02:00

My Italian class moved back to the big, echoey room. I think they are just trying to confuse us.

Blas started the class off asking everyone what they did on the weekend. One person answered and then he looked at me. I knew what was coming next. "Reeshard?" Everyone laughed. People now laugh when he calls on me and I don't think they are laughing with me, unless, they are seeing the face I make every time which says something like "why are you calling on me again?", but I think it is more that I have become one of the jokes in the class. I try to hide, but it is hard. Every now and then Blas will turn to me and say in a loud, booming voice, "Reeshard?" or "Reeshard!" Everyone in the class knows my name.

For homework we had to write the fable of the Tortoise and the Hare in Italian. This would have made sense to me if we had studied any vocabulary relating to the story, but we had not. The closest we came was reading a story last week about the Hare and the Eagle. I learned (after we finished discussing the story) that a "hare" was "lepre" in Italian. I thought the lepre was a leopard when I first read the story and couldn't understand how an eagle could eat a leopard (since that is what happened in the story).

I feared that Blas would ask me to read my story. My philosophy is that as a language student, I should use the words I know to try to express myself. I was not going to write the story in English and then try to translate the whole thing to Spanish. So instead, I wrote the story, using the words I knew, and I looked up a few that I wasn't sure about. This made my story kind of short, which was fine with me for a level 1 Italian class... until I saw everyone else's stories.

Hanna, the crazy non-emo, non-flogger who sits next to me, wrote almost a half a page. She told me how she did it but I didn't understand because she speaks really fast and her lips don't seem to move when she speaks.

Matias volunteered to read his story.

At one point I thought that maybe Blas and Matias had something going on because Blas went over and kissed Matias. Blas is not normally a kisser like Ybtisaam, my Arabic teacher. Everyone kisses her hello and good-bye. Blas only kissed me once when he ran into me in the bar.

So when Blas kissed Matias and no one else, I wasn't sure what was going on. Then I realized it was Matias' birthday. Somehow I had missed that in the discussion between Matias and Blas. I miss a lot in the discussions that happen between Matias and Blas.

During the break, Matias broke out a cake that he said he made. He cut it and one of the ladies who sit on the other side of the room distributed it. It was actually a good cake. Another girl who hardly ever speaks had revealed last week that she works in Havana. Havana is a chain of cafes that sells alfajores, a cookie sandwich filled with dulce de leche and covered in chocolate (that reminds me, it is still in my bag). We sang Happy Birthday in Italian, but I didn't sing because I had no idea what the words were.

I discovered why some of my students like it better when we do things in class like filling out grammar worksheets. After the break, that is what we did. I felt less lost. The kind of free and easy discussion stuff that we do, often in the beginning when students are still trickling in gets me lost easily. Even listening to the tape that comes with the book with our books closed, I am unable to understand as much as some of my other classmates. But when we do a grammar worksheet, usually, I'm ok and know how to ask for help when I need it.

This Italian class has been an interesting experience for me. I thought it would be easy, since it is Italian 1 and I've taken Italian 1 (and 2) twice already. It has not been easy and now I am getting some insights into what some of my students might experience in my class.

I came home and Norma was still here. Norma likes to talk. I sat in the living room and worked on making some flash cards in Arabic while she finished up. Every now and then she'd ask me a question about how things were going. At one point she asked me if I knew how to make popcorn. I don't know what that was about, but she said her husband would show me if I didn't know. She apparently knew I had popcorn because she opened my cabinet and said she had seen it. I don't know what made her think I didn't know how to make it.

I was glad I left the chocolate bar for her last week because she also mentioned that she got a call from the office telling her to leave things where I leave them. She'd had this habit of putting my dish drain away, putting my clothes in the closet (when I'd left them out for a reason) and moving things so I couldn't find them when I came home. I was hoping by now she had forgotten all about it, but she didn't, but I think leaving the chocolate might have smoothed over any ruffled feathers. Her husband is supposed to stop by later and fix the broken toilet seat (one of the hinges mysteriously broke a few weeks ago).

I spent the afternoon napping because I was supposed to meet Raul, my conversation exchange partner tonight, but I just got a text from him that he's too stressed out and has to cancel. This is the 2nd week in a row that he has canceled, the week before I was in Uruguay and next week I am not going to meet him because I have a meeting with the vestibular specialist at 4 and don't want to have to trek across town afterwards. I'm kind of thinking that this arrangement isn't working out.

It's a beautiful day again, warm with a hint of coolness in the air and a clear blue sky.

Health Update

2008-10-21T16:36:00.003-02:00

Today it was raining really hard in the morning. It was kind of nice to have the sky be so dark and see a heavy rain falling.

I had an appointment at noon to meet a woman named Aurora to talk about medical insurance with the Swiss Medical Group, but just to be sure, I called Blue Cross/Blue Shield, my insurer, to see what kind of coverage I have while I am here. It is great having skype, because if I am calling a regular land line, the calls cost me only .021 cents per minute. I call my parents and have called doctors, my mail order prescription company and today Blue Cross.

Well, Blue Cross told me that I could see any doctor and then just send them the receipts and they would reimburse me. Of course I don't think it is going to be that simple, but you never know. Either way, I decided I should go see a doctor to see what they said. Perhaps there is something else going on with my ear, or maybe there are new treatments since I last saw a specialist.

I called Aurora and canceled my appointment with her, apologizing for not checking with my insurance first. I then headed over to the German Hospital, two blocks away, with a copy of a printout of a description of meniere's disease from Wikipedia in Spanish, just in case.

I paid $30 US for the visit and waited for about 20 minutes to see a doctor.

The doctor I saw, Dr. Peralta, was not a soap star. He wasn't bad looking, but he was not the gorgeous soap opera, cover of GQ type doctor I'm used to seeing here. He also had a small piece of food on his chin which was very distracting.

I told him I had meniere's and showed him my printout, which he was not interested in. He apparently knew what I was talking about. He took a look in my ears and said I had some wax buildup. So we went to another room and he scraped and vaccumed to get the wax out. I was hoping that maybe that was the reason I've been having so many attacks lately. I had wax flushed out of my ears a few times, but that was over 25 years ago. I thought I was doing a good job keeping my ears clean, but maybe all of the soot and dirty air here is clogging my ears.

Dr. Peralta then wrote a prescription for a betahistine dicloride for the vertigo. He told me to take one in the morning and one at night. He wasn't familiar with meclizine. He also wrote a referral for me to get my hearing tested.

I was hungry and didn't know if I went to the desk to make an appointment for the hearing test if it would be right then or if I could schedule in advance. I also wasn't sure I wanted to go through that again if it was only going to determine something I already know. I am nearly deaf in my left ear. I know that. I can test it very easily by plugging up my right ear. I can hear almost nothing from the left side.

So, instead I came home and got a sweater (because it was colder out than I thought) and went to get the prescription filled. It was less than $10, but I only got a week's supply! I don't know how that is supposed to help me if I am supposed to take these pills every day. I guess I am going to stick to the meclizine for now.

I decided to try an all you can eat buffet for lunch because I didn't know what I wanted to eat and at least at a buffet I could choose based on what looked good. It wasn't that good, but it was enough to satisfy me.

On my way home, I stopped at a foot massage place that I pass often. I've really been needing my toenails clipped. I tried clipping them myself, but the toenail clipper I bought here didn't cut. My nails were too hard for me to pick them with my fingernails. So I went in and told them I wanted a pedicure and foot massage.

It was great! For about $25 I got a 30 minute foot massage which I slept part-way through because it was so relaxing and a 30 minute pedicure which not only gave me nice clean nails, but also very smooth feet.

Well, the good news is that I have an angel looking out for me. My friend Yaari who lives in Vancouver has been very concerned about my health. She did a little checking herself and came up with some leads for me. One is a website called vestibular.org, and on there I found a specialist in Buenos Aires who deals with meniere's. I called and have an appointment for next Wednesday.

I'm not going to get the hearing test that Dr. Peralta ordered and I am going to hold off on taking the medicine he recommended. Instead, I am going to try to find out more about the epley procedure that Yaari told me about that is a way of manipulating the head to prevent vertigo attacks. Dr. Videla, who I will see next week is certified to do this procedure.

I am hopeful now, where I was hopeless and frustrated before. This sabbatical was turning into a nightmare as it was becoming more and more difficult for me to live anything resembling a normal life here. I really didn't want to return home, mostly because I can't see myself dealing with all of the stress of travel while I am unstable and prone to attacks.

The rain has stopped and the birds are singing. I can hear the bird that sounds like an ice cream truck singing above the others. I'm going to go put my clean feet up on the sofa and watch a little TV before I figure out what I am going to have for dinner.

Vertigo...almost

2008-10-20T23:45:00.002-02:00

Just when I thought I had a plan that was working...

This morning I headed to the gym, stopping first at the money changer. I had taken a meclizine when I got up around 9:30 (slept late today), but as I was walking I felt like something was wrong. Still, I was fairly confident that even though the fluid levels in my ear might be off, I would not have to worry about getting a vertigo attack.

After changing money I decided to grab a quick bite to eat before going to the gym. It just seemed to me that it would be better than leaving the gym hungry and then having to find food.

I went to a little place on Rodriguez Pena called La Cholita. It's a parrilla, but they have sandwiches and salads. I got a choripan and a salad.

As I sat waiting for my food to come I started feeling like something inside my head was sliding back and forth. I fished through my gym bag and found a meclizine and popped one, just in case. I knew it was not a full 6 hours since the last one, but I was not taking chances.

My food came and I took one bite of my choripan and a moderate attack started. I sat and tried to keep my head steady as I noticed that any movement made the dizziness worse. I was lucky to be in a place where I could sit and stare at one spot without being too noticeable. The restaurant was not crowded and I was near the front, with my back facing the staff.

I sat for about 30 minutes until finally I asked the waitress to pack up my food. I wasn't sure what would happen when I tried to walk home, but I wanted to leave.

It was a strange experience being out in the city again making my way home on the tail edge of a vertigo attack. I didn't notice people on the sidewalks or traffic, I just saw the space on the sidewalk where I was walking and was aware of my surroundings only enough to make sure I didn't hit anything and nothing hit me.

I made it home and collapsed on the sofa, where I spent the rest of the day.

Well, that is not true. I logged on to my computer to get information about acupuncture and an insurance broker who speaks English. I called both. I have an appointment to meet a woman named Aurora tomorrow who works for Swiss Medical Group. I'm going to find out about options for insurance plans with the intention of getting a doctor to look at my ear while I am here. It is either that, or pack up and go home and use the rest of my sabbatical to see specialists in San Francisco. That is plan B. But it has become obvious to me that trying to live a normal life here while I'm having these attacks is just not a possibility. Chances are I won't be able to get insurance because of pre-existing conditions. In that case, I'm going to have to decide whether or not I should leave early or if I can tough it out for another two months. I'm hoping I can get some treatment here and I'm hoping in the 6 or 7 years since I first saw a specialist about this that they have come up with some new treatments.

I found a site called Indextar, which is a site for expats to share information. It is where I found my chiropractor, the guy who puts seeds in my ear, this insurance broker and the acupuncturist. It is a good source of information. The only weird thing is you have to be an active user to access the information. It means you have to post reviews in order to have access, and that access is only good for a week. It kind of forces you to say something even if you don't have anything to say. Weird, but the site has been helpful.

Wow!

2008-10-19T14:10:00.003-02:00

This has nothing to do with me being in Argentina, other than I am amusing myself following the drama of the U.S. election. I am actually enjoying the show. With McCain's sneaky tactics, Sarah Palin's antics, and Obama's mastery, this is reality TV at its best. Who is going to get voted off the island?

Well, today came the latest twist. Colin Powell endorsed Obama on Meet the Press. And what an endorsement it was. Powell speaks for over 7 minutes about his decision to make this endorsement and was not interrupted once. It's like he's giving a speech. He makes some very powerful arguments. Then, after the show he goes outside and talks to the press and gives even more reasons, addressing the criticism of Obama as being a socialist. Pow! He really gave it to McCain, and maybe gave the election to Obama. Who or what is next in this show? Condie Rice?!!

Check out the video and look at the other one on Huffington Post. Enjoy the show!

and this

Happy Mother's Day!

2008-10-19T10:49:00.003-02:00

Today is mother's day in Argentina. It is the third Sunday in October. Almost the same as in the U.S., which is the third Sunday in May. Both fall on the third Sunday of the first full month of spring. How are these things decided?

Hernan invited me to a movie last night. I forget what we were going to see, but when we arrived at the theater, they only had seats available in the front row. We passed. We crossed the street to another theater and got tickets for a movie called "Entre la vida y la muerte" - Between Life and Death - with Vigor Mortenson and Renee Zeilwiger (I have no idea how to spell either of their names and am too lazy to look). I think Vigor had been nominated for an Oscar for this.

I don't usually like Westerns, but this was good. It was very interesting in fact to see a portrayal of life out West during the early years of U.S. western expansion. We could have gone to see that Chihuaha movie and I would have been happy. I was just excited to be in a new part of town and seeing my first movie in Argentina.

We went to Belgrano, which is another part of the city that lies beyond Palermo. I had heard lots of good things about Belgrano and was considering it as a possible neighborhood for me next year.

As we arrived in the taxi, I could see that it was indeed a bustling neighborhood with all kinds of shops, ranging from fancy designer shops to mom and pop fruit stands. The sidewalks were crammed with people going to and fro and traffic stalled as we hit the commercial center of Belgrano.

After we got our tickets to the movie we had about an hour and a half to kill, so we walked to Chinatown. Chinatown in Belgrano is not like New York or S.F., it is much smaller, maybe 4 blocks long, but there are a few Chinese restaurants alongside the parillas, and a few Chinese supermarkets. I definitely want to go back durin the day, during the week, and explore a little.

We went to a place called Palitos (which is the word for chopsticks in Spanish). Hernan wanted to order rabbit. I've eaten rabbit once or twice in my life. I remember my grandmother made it once when I was very young. But as delicious as Hernan said it was, I didn't think I could get past the mental block I would have about eating a little bunny. I know cows and chickens can be cute too, but I'm used to eating them without thinking about it. So instead, we got the same dish with chicken.

The food was good, but the chicken dish, that came in a little caserole pot, was very salty. Hernan kept pouring the sauce over my food. I knew it wasn't good for me and tried my best to eat around the salt. Today will be a salt free day.

Last night we also sprung forward. So, after the movie our watches said 12:15 a.m., but we sprung forward to 1:15. We split a taxi home, first dropping Hernan off in Palermo and then I got off on Santa Fe.

It was a fun night. Hernan has been very good about initiating things with me and showing me different sides of Buenos Aires. Last night he even spoke Spanish with me. I feel strange speaking Spanish to him because his English is so good, but I appreciated his efforts.

Unfortunately, this Friday, the American couple he is dog sitting for return from from their trip and he will move back into his mother's house in the provinces. This means I won't get to see him as much. I really wish I could meet more people like Hernan, who have a lot of free time on their hands and know interesting places in the city to take me.

Today should be a very quiet day being mother's day and a Sunday. There is also a big soccer match between the Boca Juniors and River - two of the fiercest rivals among Buenos Aires soccer teams. I guess the game will be televised, which will mean there will be no men on the streets.

Larry sent me a link to an article in English about the lack of coins. Here is the link for anyone who wants to read more.

Is there a method to the madness??

2008-10-18T17:38:00.003-03:00

My Arabic class is very nice. The students in the class seem friendlier than the ones in my Italian class. People talk across the room more and I even feel like at some point we might have a party or something! I like the opportunity I get after class to walk with Romina to the subte on Cordoba, which is about a 10 minute walk with a nice opportunity to speak Spanish. She is very sweet.

Today I didn't bring the book we had to buy originally because now I have a copy of the pirated book that has been floating around from one student to another. Of course Ybti decided to use the book I didn't bring. I should have just put it in my bag, but I forgot. Romina let me borrow her book and she shared with Fernando. It was very sweet.

We kind of just went through the book from one exercise to the next. We learned different structures which were useful and interesting and then went on to the next thing. There were no opportunities for us to practice and digest what we had just "learned" - I use it in quotes because we didn't learn it.

The funny thing about Ybti that I have noticed is that she sings her own praises a lot. She said what a nice class we had last night, and Fernando agreed with her, which is easy for him to say because he can read and write and speak Arabic. I don't know why he is in level 1. He's very nice though and very helpful and doesn't in any way dominate the class. He lets the rest of us control the pace and level. But today a lot of people were confused and Ybti just kind of ignored them and said it was because they were absent or weren't paying attention or some thing or other. The poor Lebanese woman, Paris, who misses a lot of classes and misses a lot when she is there, was really confused today. During the break, Ybti talked about her with the other students, kind of making fun of her. She said she was deaf and should be in the deaf level! I was moderately horrified,especially because I am half deaf and can really identify with what Paris must be experiencing!

We whizzed through the book I didn't have and then went on to the other pirated book to an exercise that Ybti thought was very "lindo" - nice, I guess. It wasn't that nice because most of us were confused.

I am learning, to my own surprise and delight. As I was in the bathroom during the break, I thought of the image of throwing shit at the wall and some sticking. That was my experience today. But really I learn because of repeated exposure to things, and my own efforts outside of class. If the repeat exposure were actually engineered in class, I might learn a little faster, but I am happy with my progress and confident that I will finish this semester with an ability to read and write some Arabic, even though it might be like a first grader.

I came home and expected to hear from Hernan. I was very hungry so I ate some of my leftover Arabic food from last night's delivery. The food was delicious by the way! I am definitely going to be getting more deliveries. One of my favorite things in the mix was a rice dish called myadara. I had it at the buffet I went to on Wednesday. It is lentils with rice with fried onions on top. It was so yummy. I want to learn how to make it. I think it is a great dish to bring to potlucks! I might try making some and bringing it to class.

After lunch I watched a little of Bill Moyers journal from last night. He had an incredible program as always. One guy talked about solutions to benefit the working poor in the US and another guy talked about the importance of looking at voter suppression and voter fraud during this upcoming election. Could it be possible for the Republicans to actually steal this election too? Will we allow them to get away with it again?

Halfway through Bill Moyers, I fell asleep (I was watching it on my computer while in bed, so it made sense that I would doze off). I've been taking these afternoon naps and having a really hard time waking up from them. I don't think it is a good thing. I really should try to limit the length of my naps. I think part of the problem is that I am taking meclizine and not sleeping too well at night.

Hernan and I spoke briefly after my nap. He invited me to a movie tonight. This will be my first time going to a movie in Argentina! I know it sounds kind of amazing that after 5 months I have never been to a movie here. It will be fun to see the differences, even though I know what they will be.

Tonight we spring forward one hour. That means it will be light later, and the birds will start singing in the morning one hour later as well (giving me an extra hour to sleep). I can still hear the bird that sounds like an ice cream truck. I was able to record it on my mp3 player but can't figure out how to link the voice file to my blog so that others can hear it. This morning, I heard two of these birds singing to each other, sort of call and response style. It was still dark out and a little too early to be singing, in my humble opinion.

Arab Delivery

2008-10-17T20:25:00.003-03:00

Food that is.

I'm waiting for a delivery from the Club Siriolibanes - the Syrian-Lebanese Club. I guess that studying Arabic and eating Arab food I would be suspected of being a terrorist by many Americans. Oh well, I am looking forward to my very first delivery of anything in Argentina. I had a rough day and deserve to have my food sent to me!

I met a new conversation exchange partner at CUI, where I have classes. I posted a note on the bulletin board there as well as a new ad on Craigslist and some other site. Raul, my regular partner canceled this week, but even before that I was thinking I need more than one partner. I am really hoping to find a fun, interesting partner who has a car...

Matias, the guy I met today, was not that person.

I waited for him outside of CUI first and after he was 10 minutes late, I went inside the bar and got a coffee and sent him a text letting him know where I was. Soon after I sent the message, a young, disoriented-looking guy came in with his fly wide open and looking at his cell phone. I figured it was him, and I said, "Matias?" I was right.

We spoke for two hours, starting in Spanish, switching to English and then switching back and forth. The conversation was kind of like pulling teeth, though there were times when we did find something to talk about, like politics (always a fun topic for me!)

Matias is studying economics and I did learn some interesting things from him. For example, I knew it, but didn't realize the enormity of the fact that universities are free in Argentina! What an incredible thing. With students in the US possibly unable to go to college because they can't get loans (due to our credit crisis), parents having to save fortunes to send their kids to college, here it is free. And students can get reimbursed for their books. Matias told me this after he said he thought capitalism was better than socialism, but then he conceded that free university education was a good thing.

The bar at CUI was not the best place to meet. At first it was ok, but about halfway through our conversation we were invaded by all of the students on break. It got SOOOOO loud, I was unable to hear myself talk. It was horrible. I was leaning halfway across the table to hear Matias, who was not making an effort to either lean closer or talk louder.

I was glad when we were finished and walked Matias back in the direction of my apartment. He turned at Cordoba, so I decided next week we'll meet in a cafe I like on Cordoba, instead of at school. It will be more convenient for both of us and not as loud.

I just finished a test skype call with my friend Diane, who is going to skype me from her class next week and let her students ask me questions. That will be fun. They have been reading my other blog, which I am writing with students in mind. Diane has some of my former students and it will be fun to talk to them (and see them)!

In the middle of my skype call, my delivery came! Mmmmm....the food smells so good. I am going to finish this blog very quickly so I can go eat.

After my meeting this morning with Matias, I ate lunch, took a very long nap that was difficult to wake up from, studied some Arabic, got frustrated, went to Cafe de Las Ciencias, a place I used to eat lunch at a lot last summer, and then went to my Arabic Phonetics class. I still don't know why they call it phonetics. Ybti passed the book around again and students took turns reading from this book. It is the craziest system of teaching I have ever seen! At the end of the class she commented on how good the lesson was!??!!????!!!?????

Ok, time to eat!

To Move or Not To Move?

2008-10-16T23:00:00.002-03:00

Today was an absolutely gorgeous day! The sky was a perfectly clear blue, the temperature was perfect and the air seemed really fresh and clean after all of the rain we've been having. Even when I saw cars pass with lots of black smoke coming out of their rear, it seemed to clear up faster than normal. The trees are pretty full with thick branches full of lush green leaves. This is the first time I've seen the trees in Buenos Aires when they were blooming and not bare. They provide a really beautiful canopy on the streets and I suppose in the summer, the shade will be nice.

I went to the gym this morning and then came home for lunch and a quick nap. I had an appointment at 1:30 to go look at an apartment possibility for next year. I've decided one of my projects will be to explore neighborhoods and look at places and decide whether or not I want to come back to the same place next year (if it is available) or try a new location.

The apartment I went to see today was located near Las Heras park in Palermo. It was on a small street that ran between Las Heras and Libertador, two very busy thorofares. Walking over there and crossing Las Heras felt like I was crossing a freeway, though the block that the apartment is on is quiet. I don't think this is my neighborhood. I didn't see much there other than a hospital across the street, which might not be a good thing (ambulances in the middle of the night?).

The apartment was nice. It was on the top floor of a 9 story building and had a balcony and a patio on the roof. There were two dogs up on the patio which I guess belonged to the guy who was living there and was apparently out of town, but had a friend staying there who was in the bathroom when we got there (and we didn't realize it for a while). The whole scene was a little weird with the guy in the bathroom, and the dogs on the roof and all that.

From there I walked to a street called Coronel Diaz or something like that and spotted a Volta with tables outside in the shade. I got an ice cream and pulled out my Arabic book and tried doing some of the writing exercises, but gave up in frustration. I still am not able to read Arabic or join letters without some teacherly help. I am a little frustrated, but not too worried since I am planning on doing this again in San Francisco, where I am pretty sure I'll get it. I just have to endure a few more of these classes until the semester is over.

I walked down Coronel Diaz and passed through Alta Palermo Shopping Center - a ritzy, glitzy mall type thing on Santa Fe. It was really crowded and smelled very perfumy, so I just walked through and then continued over to the other side of Santa Fe to the neighborhood I found there that I like. The street, Charcas, that I like, has a pedestrian walkway for a few blocks and it is really lovely. There are some nice cafes and restaurants and it seemed more like the kind of neighborhood I want. It is not much further out than where I am now and is located close to the subte. There is also a lot there. It still might be a bit busy. One apartment I found in that neighborhood is on the ground floor and I am not sure how that would be. I'll have to try to see that apartment.

I walked a lot today and as I was walking down Santa Fe and about to turn onto my street I ran into Hernan. I didn't see him as I was busy trying to avoid the many pedestrians in my way. He called out to me several times before I heard him. We spoke briefly and he introduced me to his friend and we said we'd talk later. I came home and passed out on the sofa before watching my evening programs and eating dinner.

Tomorrow I am meeting a new conversation partner, Matias, at school. I have a feeling this might be Matias from my Italian class. I posted a note at school with the other people who have notices up for conversation exchange. I also got an e-mail from a guy who said he saw my "sheep" at school (he meant sheet). Seems to me he is a perfect candidate for an exchange partner for me. I don't like having a partner who is more fluent in English than I am in Spanish.

It's only 11:15 but I am exhausted. May you have an illuminated evening!

Do Something!

2008-10-15T19:52:00.002-03:00

I like having a maid.

Norma comes on Wednesday and cleans, changes the sheets and gives me fresh towels. I have her trained now not to move things. I'm very happy coming home to a very clean apartment once a week. I could get spoiled!

I left her a big chocolate bar that I bought on the Buquebus. I had some extra Uruguayan pesos since I left a day earlier than planned. I needed some for the taxi and in case there was a departure tax. Well, I didn't really, because they accepted Argentine pesos (the taxi driver in Colonia just changed his meter over and it registered in Argentine pesos), but the point is I had some pesos I had to spend because I didn't know if I could use them here.

I went to the duty free shop in the Buquebus terminal, but their computer was down and they couldn't sell anything. So I had to go to the duty free shop on the boat. It was all the way down on the bottom floor. I was in first class which was on the upper deck (it was a 3 hour trip and I decided to go in style). I went down to the lower floor, below the economy section, to the duty free shop. The boat was rocking back and forth and people kept bumping into each other. It was crowded and I didn't want to spend too much time there. I bought what I thought would use up my Uruguayan pesos - they had these giant bars of Lindt Swiss chocolate and they were 3 for the price of 2. Turned out the total was almost excactly the amount that I had in Uruguayan pesos. I got 5 pesos change, which is worth nothing.

I felt a bit plump when I got back from Uruguay after eating so much meat (and bread) and very few vegetables or fruit. I ate some of one of the bars of chocolate It is dark chocolate with almonds. I was going to bring one bar to each of my classes, but instead I brought one to Hernan when I went to visit him on Saturday and decided to leave the other one for Norma. She left me a little thank you on a post it on my nice clean kitchen counter. It is really nice having a maid.

My Italian class was moved to another room for some reason. This means I got to sit next to a new person today.

When I went to the regular room there was an English class inside already in session. There were notes on the door that the room had changed. I went to the new room and Hanna was already there. She pointed to the seat next to her and told me to sit there. As people trickled in, they looked around for a place to sit, as this room was much smaller than the other.

Two girls who were usually at the other end of the other room and I never saw because we sat in a U-shape and we were all on the same side of the U, sat down to my left. Hanna was on my right.

Hanna was really kind of jumpy today. I don't know what was up with her. I found out she is from Peru. She must have told me that before, but today I finally got it. It doesn't mean anything other than the fact that I am missing a lot in my interactions with people. She also had a little pink in her bleached blond hair today. She is quite a character. She always wears black with silver jewelry. She has a cell phone that is pink with jewels on it, and she has two buttons on her bag that say "no flogger" and "no emo". She is not a flogger or an emo, I guess maybe people might confuse her for one (though I think emos always have dyed black hair).

Blas of course asked me what I did on the weekend. I hate this question. To me it implies that you are supposed to do something, especially on the weekend. Even when I am in San Francisco, weekends are times for me to decompress. I need that time on the weekend. Here, I also really like to just stay in on Sunday. Many of the shops are closed and there is not a lot to do, so why go out? I get pleasure from staying home, cooking and just relaxing.

Well, today Blas went around and asked everybody what they did on the weekend. Since we haven't learned the past tense yet (I already learned it in Italian 2) it was a challenge for people to answer.

The new girls next to me wanted to talk to me but Blas kept stopping us. At one point he said, "Reeshard, ascoltiamo" when I was answering a question the girl had just asked me. I don't know her name because Blas never calls on her. I wish he didn't call on me.

After class I decided I wanted to eat out and I wanted something different. I passed by the Korean restaurant but knew it would be too early to go there. Sure enough, when I passed by, I could see the guy mopping the floor. They were still setting up for lunch.

I decided to walk to Santa Fe a few blocks from my apartment to a restaurant called Cocina & Cia. It is a middle eastern restaurant. They have Jewish and Arab food. They have a lunch buffet, all you can eat, for $10.

It wasn't crowded when I got there and I went up and helped myself to the buffet. They had a pretty big selection of food with a mix of Jewish, Arab and Argentine things. It was quite a varied buffet. Many of the things I ate tasted the same. There was not a whole lot of flavor to things. Also, many of the hot dishes had this white sauce on them. I think it might have been a bechemel sauce. But it was just this white stuff that covered everything and had no flavor.

I did like the more traditional Middle Eastern stuff though. They had good humus and tabouli. I had gone up twice and was planning on visiting the desert table when I noticed they had a grill in the back that people were going to and getting meat at. I thought maybe they had brisket and schwarma.

I went back and saw it was a regular parilla. I think. I still don't know the names of the cuts of meat you get at a parilla. I pointed to a piece of meat and asked the guy what it was, and I forget what he told me, but I got a little piece anyway. I got some more humus and tabouli and went to explore this piece of meat. It could have been pork. It could have been beef. It had a nice crispy skin and the meat was very tender.

I was stuffed when I left there. And tired. I came home to my clean apartment and took a nap.

That was a very full day for me. And it only takes me up to 3 p.m. Come to think of it, I do a lot every day!

Becoming a Bum

2008-10-14T21:49:00.003-03:00

My mini-vacation to Uruguay was good for me. I thought it would in some way break the monotony of my new temporary life here and revive my love for Buenos Aires. Well, it worked...sort of. What I discovered I really love is having an apartment and not staying in a hotel. So in that respect, I am really happy to be home!

This morning I had an appointment with my soap star chiropractor who was looking a little less babelicious today because he was badly in need of a shave. Argentine men do not shave every day. In fact, stubble is more the norm than the exception, it seems. That along with messy hair makes it look like everyone just rolled out of bed - after being there for 3 days. There is something attractive about it, but Hugo, my chiropractor, who normally had a 1-2 day stubble, today looked like he hadn't shaved for a week. It was too much. It was hiding his beautiful sweet face.

Other than that, the visit was good. This was the 4th visit in my intensive treatment and my neck feels much better though at times it still stiffens up. I am now going to see him every two weeks.

On the way home I stopped in a sweet little cafe and did some catch up on my Italian homework. I had a coffee and some of the best medialunas I've had here. This place, which is on the corner of Pacheco de Melo and maybe Laprida, was very nice. Big windows to people watch, quiet, nice music playing, and good medialunas. It is a candidate on my list of potential cafes to make my hangout.

I have decided that I am trying to do too much here. I'm stuck with the bed I have made and will have to continue with Arabic twice a week and Italian every Wednesday. I also want to continue with my private tango lessons with Marcelo, and my one language exchange (and others if they materialize). But that is enough. I was not feeling good about the group tango classes and kind of dreaded them. I thought it would get better if I continued going back, and in some ways they did, but the feeling of dread never faded.

Yesterday sitting outside reading a newspaper and today sitting in this nice cafe doing Italian homework, felt right. If I had to go back to either one of those cafes tomorrow I would not feel the dread I felt when I pushed myself to go to tango class.

All of this could change. Like John McCain, I have a different strategy every week. But this week, my strategy is bumming as much as I can. I've been doing a lot of that. But from now on, instead of doing it in front of the TV, I am going to bring something to read or study, like Arabic or Italian, and find a place to park myself and just hang out. This was originally on my list of accomplishments before all of the medical stuff got in the way.

Speaking of medical stuff, I went to the German Hospital today to find out about health insurance. I spoke to a woman named Milagro (Miracle). She was an insurance sales person. At first she told me I qualified for a youth package. I thought, people in Buenos Aires must live a very long time if I am considered "youth". It turned out she heard I was 38 instead of 48. She then told me about the packages they have for seniors (just kidding).

I could get a very comprehensive insurance plan that would give me full coverage, including dental, chiropractor and massage for a little over one hundred dollars per month. I could get a cheaper plan than that as well and am not sure what the difference is. I think there was a copay of 5 pesos for some things (less than 2 dollars).

Milagro had a stern, businesslike way about her, as she encouraged me to take the comprehensive plan, and then switch to the cheaper plan during the time that I am back in the states. I think her reasoning was that if I closed the plan and then had some problem like a spike in my blood sugar, I would not be able to get any coverage when I return.

I could not see any sense in paying for insurance when I am out of the country, since I have my own plan in the states.

So, I have decided to just wait until next year. But in the meantime, I am going to continue to investigate the plans and the types of coverage I am able to get.

I thought I would use some of my free time seeing specialists and trying to find a solution to the meniere's, but since I was not really sure exactly what Milagro told me, I think it might be better if I wait until I can see doctors who speak my language before doing anything radical.

Also, since I am planning on changing neighborhoods for next year, I think it would also be good to see what hospitals are convenient to my new apartment.

I'm going to look at an apartment this Thursday in Palermo. I think it is in the generic Palermo. It is not too far from here, but it is a little far from the subte. It looks like I could take a bus from there to travel, but I have not been on a bus yet and don't want to start using them because of the issue of change.

Yesterday the subte was free because there was no change. I read in the newspaper at the chiropractor's office today that a train line also offered free passage today because there was no change. The article summarized the problem and said there was no solution. Hello??? Tokens!!!??? It is really ridiculous that they can not figure out a solution to a problem that many other countries around the world have solved.

Because of the shortage of change, and the need for change for the bus (at least the subte you can buy a card that has a certain number of trips on it), there is a black market for change. People will charge 10 pesos and give 9 pesos worth of change. Sometimes they charge more. So, my number 1 priority for an apartment for next year is that I must be able to walk or take the subte to get around. No busses for me!

And so, as the rain falls and this day winds to an end, I am worn out from my day of doing a whole lot of nothing. I actually did a lot - chiropractor, cafe, Milagro, cooked, watched TV, studied Italian, studied Spanish (on TV), made dinner, watched the news, watched part of an Italian movie with Spanish subtitles and caught up on my e-mails.

Tomorrow I have no idea what we will be doing in my Italian class. I am totally expecting Blas to ask me questions about what I have been up to. I need to learn how to say "bumming" in Italian.

I Like Spring

2008-10-13T16:57:00.002-03:00

I've really been enjoying the weather we're having, as well as seeing the city begin to bloom. The past few days have been warm and wet. It was hot on Saturday and then it rained Saturday evening. It rained yesterday morning and then the sun came out. And today it rained this morning and since noon has just been overcast. All of this combined with a very quiet city due to the long weekend. I'm hearing lots of birds singing and it's really nice.

After fooling around on the computer and doing some more editing, I decided to go out for a walk. I wanted to explore this little neighborhood I passed through on the night that I had a vertigo attack in Palermo and had to walk home. It is on the south side of Santa Fe and in the direction of Palermo. I don't really know that neighborhood and am not even sure what it is called, but it seemed nice when I passed through it before.

It was a lovely day for a walk. The air felt clean and fresh and the city was very peaceful. There was very little traffic other than on the main avenues and not many people were out. I found a nice little street, I think it is called Charcas, that is divided with a median strip planted with trees. There was very little traffic on this street (maybe none?) and it was nice street to walk down. I found a cafe that had tables outside, bought a newspaper and sat down for a coffee and a piece of lemon pie.

I didn't have my reading glasses, so I was really only able to read the headlines and parts of the articles before my eyes started getting tired. As I was leaving, I folded up my newspaper with the intention of taking it home with me and trying to read it later. A woman inside the coffee shop was watching me and said something to her husband. He came out and spoke to me and I didn't understand what he said, but he was pointing to my newspaper. He was either asking if I was done with the newspaper or if I was taking it with me. I said, "si", not really sure what I was answering yes to. I then held out the paper to him and he took it.

It was an odd intereaction and afterwards I thought that maybe I was turning Japanese. I often heard that Japanese will answer "yes" to a question but not mean yes. They are instead saying that yes, they heard the question. I don't know if this is true, but it seemed true in my case. Why did I say yes when I had no idea what this guy was asking?

I am sitting in my bedroom with the window open a crack. I can hear some little chirp chirp chirp (lots of them) and above them there is the sound of this most incredible bird that I have been hearing a lot of around town lately. It has this ongoing song that is almost like an ice cream truck. It is very musical and very loud and goes on and on.

I'm really taking it easy these days. Marcelo, my tango teacher is in Brazil until the 20th. When he comes back I'll start taking lessons with him again. I may or may not go back to the tango school. It's been kind of nice really limiting the things I try to do. I'm looking for some more conversation exchange partners and looking around with some possible volunteer opportunities. I don't really know what I want to do with my time here other than go to school. It might be nice just to keep things very simple and enjoy the city a little.

Random Ramblings

2008-10-12T16:33:00.003-03:00

It rained this morning and then the sun came out. I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to take a walk, being a long weekend and figuring that people had already made rainy day plans.

The streets were pretty empty as I made my way to the Recoleta Fair, but unfortunately, the fair was also pretty empty of vendors. Some were beginning to set up, but it looked like most had given up with the rain earlier and were not going to show up.

I decided to take a walk to Palermo Chico, a very ritzy, tranquil little neighborhood not too far from the Recoleta. It is an area where some rich Buenos Aires families had large homes built, but then after the 1929 stock market crash found it impossible to maintain them - so many were sold off as embassies. One very large, lavish home is the Museum of Decorative Arts.

I found a quiet little tree-shaded plaza and sat down to take a rest in the shade as it had gotten warm. I looked up at the huge mansion across the street from where I was sitting and saw this old 70's era car. When I looked closer, I could see the word "Falcon" on the side. Was this one of the notorious green Ford Falcons that was used during the dictatorship by the paramilitary forces who rounded up people to be tortured and disappeared? If so, what was it doing in this very exclusive neighborhood of Buenos Aires? Who was it that lived behind the well-guarded walls of that giagantic home?

I started thinking that the dictatorship was a kind of class warfare as it was waged on the poor, middle classes and intellectuals who all believed in social justice and a more equitable distribution of the wealth. This was called communism at the time and was seen as a threat to the survival of the way of life for the elite, who the military defend.

Then I started thinking about how the Bush/Cheyney coup of 2000 has resulted in much the same kind of class warfare as what took place here. There have not been massive roundups of dissidents, mostly because there has not been much dissidence. But still, what Bush/Cheyney and company have done is to set themselves up for a pretty comfortable retirement while the rest of us wonder if we'll be able to afford aspirin for the headaches coming out way. This Wall Street bailout seems to be the final looting before they are booted out of Washington.

As I walked around this quiet, tree-lined neighborhood with remnants of past economic collapse now serving as embassies, I began to wonder what the purpose of an embassy was. Here are people who travel in elite circles, live in deluxe accommodations and are in some way supposed to represent the country that they hail from. As a US citizen I was not even allowed to take a photo of the US Embassy, how is it that the man inside that house could in any way represent me? No, Ambassadors represent the elites of their countries and are sent to other countries to ensure that trading and dealings between those elites run smoothly - all over cocktails and lavish dinners.

It is a corrupt system and it seems like a good thing that it is all falling apart, though the ones who will be hurt the most will be the ones in the middle. Poor people know how to surive already on very little. Their lives are difficult and while they might become more difficult, they will be able to continue to get by. But the middle class does not know what it is like to be dirt poor, and many, unfortunately, are going to find this to be their new reality. As I watched on CNN about another large factory closing in Ohio (a cookie company), and workers showing up to find out about this with no notice given, I was reminded of what happened here in Argentina. People took to the streets, they banged pots and made noise, and eventually took over the factories and began to run them themselves.

Why are Americans so accepting of these closings as the final word? Why are they not being more militant and demanding that their jobs stay in their communities? It seems that Argentine anger and action is a much better solution than the American tears and resignation.

Argentina will begin charging $130 for visas for Americans beginning in January. This is a reciprocal fee and is based on the fact that Argentines have to pay $135 for an American visa (I think Brits, Australians and some other nationalities will also have to pay this).

Some expats here are whining about this saying it will make life more difficult for them. Welcome to Argentina! I feel guilty buying a bottle of water at school because I know most of my classmates can not afford that luxury. It is nearly impossible for an Argentine to get an American visa even if they have the money to pay for one. It is only fair that this visa that is so easy for us to get and so easy to renew, should cost something. Yeah it is inconvenient, but it hardly offsets the inequality in the system which allows us to travel so freely around the world and restricts people from other countries from entering our country even for a short visit.

When I moved to San Francisco from Japan a former student in Japan wanted to visit his girlfriend who was studying in SF. He applied for a visa and was denied! They said he was an overstay risk because his girlfriend was in San Francisco and not Japan.

I think Argentines should charge Americans the equivalent of what the $135 we charge them would be based on their annual income. I'm sure it is more of an inconvenience for them than it is for most Americans who are able to travel here.

And finally, I am thinking about trying a different neighborhood next year when I return. The Recoleta is nice but it is pretty busy. Palermo Hollywood, where I was with Hernan yesterday was very nice and quiet and had interesting local places to hang out. I also liked the apartment, which had a balcony and a terrace. Of course,, moving further out is more inconvenient and would mean I'd have to take the subte or collectivos more, adding more hassle and perhaps offsetting any tranquility I might get from my more residential surroundings. Anyway, I am looking online now for apartments and hope to check out some neighborhoods while I am here that I might try for next time.