Did I say how much fun I'm having here? Tomorrow will be one week that I've been here. It feels like I've lived here forever and like I just arrived yesterday.
I'm feeling very comfortable in the city. I love my neighborhood and have found some very nice routes to walk, places to eat, etc.
My classmates are great, and it has been so wonderful having Larry here to get me acquainted with the city (which he had pretty much done by the 2nd day I was here).
I also really like having to go to school every day. Soon, I hope to add tango classes and maybe something else to my routine (though I have to say blogging is keeping me really busy).
You knew this is coming... but...
my classes are not as ideal as I wish.
It seems that the idea that students would communicate in class, or that the focus would be communication, is a foreign concept to most foreign language teachers, including those here. Today, we met Fernanda. She seemed young and is perhaps inexperienced. Although she knew a lot about Spanish grammar, and the subjunctive, which unfortunately was the focus of her lesson, she didn't seem to get that we wanted to talk and not listen to grammar explanations. We tried our best to steer her away from her plan (Anna is very suave and skilled at this, whereas I tend to sit and doodle and Mike rolls his eyes), but she kept putting sentences on the board - things like "Even though I studied the subjunctive before, it still bores the shit out of me" - well, maybe that is not what she wrote, but that is what I was thinking. Then she'd write it several different ways and tell us that the difference was very subtle. Like we cared. We were more interested in hearing about the rich woman who was strangled in bed 6 months ago and the latest revelation that it might have been her son who killed her (and possibly raped her). But alas, after every diversion, we were steered back to some "even though" expressions.
At dinner Anna, Larry and I discussed this problem (Mike didn't join us because he had a better offer), and we are thinking that maybe we will try to say something to get the class to suit our desires a little more. After all, we are all teachers in the class, and I think we know what we want. What I know is I hope I will remember this experience the next time I start to go on about something I think is interesting. I think I'm pretty good at seeing when students eyes glaze over and including lots of variety in my class, but I will be even more vigilant now. If a teacher speaks more than the students do in any language class, there is something wrong. Why don't teachers get that?
After class, we all went to see a movie called "Cocalero", which was a documentary about the rise of Evo Morales, the first indigenous person to be elected president, in Bolivia. It was a very interesting film, and thank goodness had Spanish subtitles (or captions) which made it very easy to understand. It is very ironic that Morales became president under Bush - he is a socialist and his policies are definitely anti-US, anti-corporate, anti-imperialist and pro-people of Bolivia. In the past, someone like him would have not had a chance, but because Bush is so fixated on Iraq (and next Iran?), he didn't have the energy, resources (and perhaps brain power) to pay attention to what was happening in Bolivia. I doubt that Morales will be able to do much, but the symbolism of his win will have an effect on what happens in Latin America in the future.
After the movie, Anna, Larry and I walked to 9 de Julio through "mid-town" (it really reminds me of mid-town Manhatten) and made our way to Cafe Tortoni, a very old restaurant with pictures of people like Borges (Argentine writer), Gardel (tanguero), and others, including a photo of Hillary Clinton and Susan Sarandon (not together). It was great walking through the busy center of Buenos Aires on a crisp evening - the fog and the new chill in the air added a new element to the experience. I was expecting to see chestnuts being roasted on the sidewalk, but instead people were doing something with peanuts (maybe candied peanuts?)
I'm having a blast and definitely can see coming back for more. I don't think I'd like it in the summer when it is hot - right now seems like the perfect time to be here.
Mmmm...someone is cooking dinner (it's 10:30 at night) - making me hungry.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
My photo blog
In case you're interested, I'm posting photos on a different blog. The photos here are too small to see everything, so I am choosing some of my faves and putting them up at http://www.argentinaphotodiary.blogspot.com
I have also posted all of my photos (and will continue to do so) on Yahoo Photos - you can see all of them (without the witty captions) at http://photos.yahoo.com/rick265 - click on the Argentina album.
I have also posted all of my photos (and will continue to do so) on Yahoo Photos - you can see all of them (without the witty captions) at http://photos.yahoo.com/rick265 - click on the Argentina album.
My busy life in BA
Life here is busier than I thought. I brought some books with me, thinking I'd be living like I live in San Francisco and spending time in the evenings in bed reading. Instead, it seems like I'm constantly on the go.
Yesterday I got up late (9:00) and went out for a short walk around my neighborhood. I seem to live right on the edge of the Microcentro (downtown area), which reminds me of Midtown Manhatten (sorry, but I have to compare it to something). But just a few blocks north are some very lovely, quiet, tree-lined streets with art galleries and modern high rise apartments.
So I took a walk around, took some photos and went to pick up my laundry. The total cost for my laundry was 9.50. I gave the woman a 20 peso bill and she asked if I had anything smaller. Apparently people don't have change in Buenos Aires, as I've heard this is a common thing (it's the first time I've experienced it). I didn't have enough to give her the exact change, so she said she owes me 50 centavos and wrote a little note for the next time I go there. It was odd because there were other people in the store and maybe someone could have given her change, but no one offered.
I walked to school and explored a little more - walked through the more central part of town, which was very busy and active (I prefer my neighborhood which is quieter). I ran into Anna on my way to lunch and she invited me to a restaurant someone recommended that is a block from school called Prosciutto. Of course, they had big hams hanging all over the place. We were the first ones there. We both had salads, and I tried linguine with pesto (the pasta was not that good).
After class we had an outing to Recoleta, which is very concheta (concheta is an adjective too). It really is a beautiful place. We visited the cemetary and this time saw Evita's tomb. Of course there were many people there - some having their pictures taken in front of it. Larry wanted to take my picture there, but I declined (I don't understand that custom). At the end of our tour, Larry, Anna, Mike and I split and went to the restaurant in Larry's neighborhood that serves the best empanadas in South America. They were closed. We waited outside until someone came to the door and told us they were to open at 7. We had 40 minutes to kill, so Larry, grand tour guide, took us to a shopping center nearby. This place was gleaming with marble, brass and bright lights. Apparently it used to be some sort of place where people would go to buy livestock. From the upper floors they would look down the central area and choose the cow they wanted.
After dinner (which was delicious, by the way - I had a lentil stew that was amazing) Larry and I went to "Jumbo" a big-box store kind of like Wal-Mart. We hopped in a cab and Larry told the driver we wanted to go to Jumbo, but he didn't understand. Larry then told him it was near the "mosca" (he was trying to say Mosque, but mosca is a fly) - the driver still didn't understand. But what impressed me was that even though he didn't understand, he kept driving in the direction Larry indicated and didn't give up trying to understand. Eventually he got that the "mosca" was the Arabic temple (I forget what the word finally was) and that Larry's pronunciaiton of Jumbo was a little off (he was pronunouncing the "u" like in English (schwa) rather than like in Spanish and the driver thought he was saying "shampoo").
We arrived at Jumbo and I noticed that I smelled like the air freshener in the cab. It was so strong, I was now a walking air freshener. I'm sure I freshened the air when we walked into Jumbo, which was about the size of 3 football fields.
Larry was looking for a big towel, I wasn't looking for anything in particular, but I ended up buying more than he did. His shopping cart must have had a motor though, because every time I stopped to look at something, he disappeared, and it was impossible to find him in this enormous store. Then, after some minutes, I'd see his head heading up the aisle towards me.
The weather is getting colder. Last night a big fog bank rolled in (I felt like I was in S.F.). It is still warmer than San Francisco in the summer, but I think I might actually get to wear some of the winter clothes I brought.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
2nd Day of School - a substitute teacher
I started the day off doing my morning chores. Played with my computer, which today worked like there had not been anything wrong with it - e-mail, online banking, everything worked. Went out and found lavandero, a place to drop off my laundry -it will be ready tomorrow (no laudromats for me on this trip). Went to the supermarket and to the cheese store down the block, where I got a nice piece of Mantego cheese.
I'm sitting here eating cheese, olives, drinking wine and listening to Mercedes Sosa, a wonderful Argentine folk singer.
Took the subway (subte) to school - very easy to do - I had to change trains, but it was all very clear.
Found a nice restaurant on the way to school where I had lunch. I ordered something Larry and I had on Sunday called Provoleta, which was a delicious piece of grilled provolone cheese with olive oil and some oregano and other spices - it was super delicious. So I ordered Provoleta Milanesa, forgetting that anything "a la Milanesa" is breaded and fried. I got two piece of provolone, breaded and fried with a side of salad. It was very good, but not as good as what we got on Sunday in San Telmo. Still I liked the restaurant and returned there with two classmates, Anna and Mike, and Larry, after school today.
We were surprised to find we had a substitute teacher already on the 2nd day of school. Our teacher from yesterday, Marcela, was not due to teach today, we have her Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Today we were supposed to meet Fernanda, but apparently she has a cold.
So, we got this young revolutionary-looking guy named Martin.
Martin liked to talk. He was very intelligent and knew a lot about the Spanish that they speak in Buenos Aires, called lunfardo. It is a very colloquial form of Spanish that has influences from indigenous languages, Portuguese, Italian, French and even English. He told us we should learn some of this language because if we don't speak this way, people will know we are not from here (and perhaps take advantage of us).
After his lengthy introduction to today's lesson and why we were going to do what we were going to do, we went to the computer room, where he set each of us up on a computer with headsets. He had us open Google and You Tube in two separate browsers. We googled the lyrics of a song, and then found a video of the song on You Tube. We watched the video first, then watched again and read the lyrics, and then watched one more time, and finally wrote down words we had questions about.
It was really a great idea, but we were in over our heads. We didn't have enough information about the songs we were listening to and the language was so colloquial, the videos didn't effectively tell the stories, so we had very little to go on to figure out the new vocabulary, and it didn't help to ask him because each explanation took about 10-15 minutes with many sidetracks that just confused things.
I learned a way to use new technology like You Tube with my students, but will definitely do some work with them so that their experience is not like mine was today.
One of the students excused himself halfway through the class and said he had to do some work and left. The rest of us stayed and tried to get what we could from the lesson. Martin spoke very fast and it was difficult to even interrupt him to ask questions to clarify what he was talking about.
After our break we met a new student - her name is Christina and she is from X'ian, China. She is working in Buenos Aires and spoke Spanish very fluently. She was confused about the vocabulary we were discussing though, since she hadn't listened to the songs, and also the vocabulary was a little slangy, and maybe not that common.
After class, Mike, Anna and I met up with Larry and we went to the restaurant where I ate lunch. Then Larry and I went to a cultural center and got a calendar. We saw some films that we want to see and from there walked to Santa Fe Avenue, where we had delicious ice cream in a very fancy ice cream shop (I'm going to post a picture).
I'm supposed to be doing my homework for tomorrow, which I will do as soon as I finish this blog. I have to write description of a film and do some other homework which involves filling in blanks with different verb forms. Both assignments are challenging for me and I'm not looking forward to them, which is why I'd rather be blogging, drinking wine, eating cheese and listening to Mercedes Sosa. But, my homework awaits.
Chau.
I'm sitting here eating cheese, olives, drinking wine and listening to Mercedes Sosa, a wonderful Argentine folk singer.
Took the subway (subte) to school - very easy to do - I had to change trains, but it was all very clear.
Found a nice restaurant on the way to school where I had lunch. I ordered something Larry and I had on Sunday called Provoleta, which was a delicious piece of grilled provolone cheese with olive oil and some oregano and other spices - it was super delicious. So I ordered Provoleta Milanesa, forgetting that anything "a la Milanesa" is breaded and fried. I got two piece of provolone, breaded and fried with a side of salad. It was very good, but not as good as what we got on Sunday in San Telmo. Still I liked the restaurant and returned there with two classmates, Anna and Mike, and Larry, after school today.
We were surprised to find we had a substitute teacher already on the 2nd day of school. Our teacher from yesterday, Marcela, was not due to teach today, we have her Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Today we were supposed to meet Fernanda, but apparently she has a cold.
So, we got this young revolutionary-looking guy named Martin.
Martin liked to talk. He was very intelligent and knew a lot about the Spanish that they speak in Buenos Aires, called lunfardo. It is a very colloquial form of Spanish that has influences from indigenous languages, Portuguese, Italian, French and even English. He told us we should learn some of this language because if we don't speak this way, people will know we are not from here (and perhaps take advantage of us).
After his lengthy introduction to today's lesson and why we were going to do what we were going to do, we went to the computer room, where he set each of us up on a computer with headsets. He had us open Google and You Tube in two separate browsers. We googled the lyrics of a song, and then found a video of the song on You Tube. We watched the video first, then watched again and read the lyrics, and then watched one more time, and finally wrote down words we had questions about.
It was really a great idea, but we were in over our heads. We didn't have enough information about the songs we were listening to and the language was so colloquial, the videos didn't effectively tell the stories, so we had very little to go on to figure out the new vocabulary, and it didn't help to ask him because each explanation took about 10-15 minutes with many sidetracks that just confused things.
I learned a way to use new technology like You Tube with my students, but will definitely do some work with them so that their experience is not like mine was today.
One of the students excused himself halfway through the class and said he had to do some work and left. The rest of us stayed and tried to get what we could from the lesson. Martin spoke very fast and it was difficult to even interrupt him to ask questions to clarify what he was talking about.
After our break we met a new student - her name is Christina and she is from X'ian, China. She is working in Buenos Aires and spoke Spanish very fluently. She was confused about the vocabulary we were discussing though, since she hadn't listened to the songs, and also the vocabulary was a little slangy, and maybe not that common.
After class, Mike, Anna and I met up with Larry and we went to the restaurant where I ate lunch. Then Larry and I went to a cultural center and got a calendar. We saw some films that we want to see and from there walked to Santa Fe Avenue, where we had delicious ice cream in a very fancy ice cream shop (I'm going to post a picture).
I'm supposed to be doing my homework for tomorrow, which I will do as soon as I finish this blog. I have to write description of a film and do some other homework which involves filling in blanks with different verb forms. Both assignments are challenging for me and I'm not looking forward to them, which is why I'd rather be blogging, drinking wine, eating cheese and listening to Mercedes Sosa. But, my homework awaits.
Chau.
Monday, June 4, 2007
First day of school - completed
Ok, the first day of school ended up not being that bad. The kids went off to their classes and I went to mine, expecting to find that I was the only student in the class (most of the kids placed in level 1 or 2, and I was in 6). I was the first one in the room while a group of Chinese students who were not at the orientation stood outside the room (I was hoping I'd have Chinese students in my Spanish class). The first student to come in greeted me in Spanish. His name was Mike and he teaches High School Spanish in Chicago. He was a very nice guy. Then a woman walked in, somewhat resembling a concheta without the fur coat, and she sat down next to me. Her name is Anna and she teaches French in Atlanta. The final student in the class is a guy from England named Jonathan, who is teaching English in Buenos Aires. I was relieved to see that the students were older - Mike and Jonathan are probably in their 30's and Anna is older than me.
The level of the class is a little high. The teacher commented that I was "timido" (shy) - in fact I am, but I was also a little overwhelmed. I understand almost everything, but can only utter a few words, while the other students string together several sentences at a time. But I was relieved to find that I often understood things that they didn't - so what I lack in ability to speak, I have in comprehension. I decided to stay in the class because I want to be pushed, and feel like I need to work to keep up with the others (unlike my Italian class this past semester where I felt I didn't need to study because the other students were so low).
Afterwards I met Larry and his former Spanish teacher, Juliana. First I had my first taxi adventure.
I called Larry on my new cell phone that I got today at school, and he gave me the address of Daniela Wasser School, where he was waiting for his teacher to finish class. The address he gave me was 4832 Cordoba. I asked for the cross street, which was Julian Alvarez (I'm used to being in countries where addresses are useless). I got into the cab and decided to just go ahead and give him the address, but I did it the way we say addresses in the U.S. - cuarenta-ocho trenta y dos Cordoba (48-32 Cordoba). The taxi driver sped towards the Plaza de Mayo. I didn't think anything of it -I actually thought I could walk to where Larry was, because he said he was not far from where I was.
As we got closer to "el centro" traffic became more congested. The driver went down a small street to go over to Cordoba, and traffic was at a standstill - felt like I was in Manhatten. I asked him if I could walk, and he objected (I thought it would be faster). Finally we reached Cordoba and he rolled up to 832. I said, no 4832! At which point he said something I didn't understand and we sped off in the opposite direction (he was probably cursing me out).
Cordoba is a wide street of about 8 lanes that was totally congested. Buses spewed out black smoke and cars cut each other off. My driver honked his horn at everyone (as if it would help). We passed Junin, where I started out and continued on. And continued on. And continued on. The fare when we got to 832 Cordoba was about 5 pesos (a little over 1 dollar), but the time we got to 4832 Cordoba, it was over 15 pesos (I guess we had traveled 40 blocks from the original wrong location). The only problem was there was no 4832. There was 4830 and 4834, but no 32.
The driver seemed a bit upset at this point. I told him the cross street and he told me it was 5 streets back in the other direction. I told him it was ok, I could walk, and that I would call and confirm the address. He kept insisting that I had to say there was no 32. I kind of figured that out. I called Larry. Turned out that Daniela Wasser was at 4382. Somehow the numbers got crossed in the translation from the person Larry spoke to, to Larry, to me.
It was an adventure and I learned some important things.
As I walked to meet Larry, who was now on his way to meet me halfway, I felt in my front pocket for my wallet (which is not where I normally keep it, but have been told to do here). It wasn't there. I felt the other front pocket - no wallet. My back pockets - not there. My jacket - no sign of it. I felt flush and panicked, thinking I had left it in the cab (or that the driver had somehow robbed me). I opened my bag and for some reason, I had put my wallet in my bag. Careless of me and a sign that all of this talk about being careful was making me paranoid.
I met up with Larry and his wonderfully sweet teacher and we walked to Palermo Viejo and went to a bookstore with a cafe in the back. Larry told me this was his favorite bookstore. If I had a peso for every time Larry told me "this is a really good bookstore" or "this is a really good CD shop" - I could retire here. But it was a nice bookstore with a very interesting interior, and I could see why it was Larry's favorite.
We sat down and a sort of punky looking (or was it just "fashionable") waitress came over and laid some menus on the table (only 2 menus for the three of us). Larry and Juliana were chatting and I was waiting for a menu. Finally I slipped one of them in my direction. We decided what we wanted, and sat and continued to talk. Juliana was lovely, and it was really easy to speak Spanish with her (her Spanish was clear and she was very patient with us). Off to the side of where we were sitting was the smoking area, which was simply a section of the bookstore that was set off with windows and a set of french doors that opened to where we were. The smoke blew out from the smoking area in huge clouds and passed by our table. I didn't really get the point of the smoking section, but it seemed it was meant to concentrate the smoke so that it would blow out in clouds to where we were sitting (reminded me of the fog blowing in in San Francisco).
Our waitress was seated in the smoking section talking to her friends, while another guy stood behind the counter where the register was and another guy was behind another counter in charge of the music. The three of us sat for the longest time for someone to come and take our order. Juliana seemed unphased. Larry and I both commented to each other about how hungry we were, and noted that our waitress was having a smoke.
Juliana got up, spoke to the CD guy and eventually bought a CD. We waited for our waitress, and waited, and waited. Finally she came over and took our order.
We ordered a cheese tray and a small pizza with fresh mozzarella, basil and fresh tomato. A huge tray came out that the three of us could not finish. It had cheeses, salami, ham and olives, and we had a basket of bread and olive oil. As we sat eating that and I looked around at the other customers with blond and light brown hair, one redhead, everyone looking very trendy, two people working on their laptops near us, others in the smoking room, smoking and working on their laptops, and one guy above us on the balcony working on his laptop, I said to Larry, "if I didn't know any better I would swear we were not in Argentina'. If I had taken a picture and showed it to you, you would have thought it was just a nice cafe in any city in the US - New York, Seattle, Chicago or San Francisco. The only thing that gave it away was when people spoke, and gestured, or the slow service of our waitress (well, that might also be possible in a trendy cafe in any city in the US).
We finished the evening by taking a cab back to a point equal distance from my and Larry's apartments. We walked a bit, ate (again) and Larry and I split ways and we walked home.
Larry, by the way, now has his own blog - you must check it out. His sense of humor comes through better in his blog than I can relay through my own writing. It is a riot!
Debra requested more information about the food. It is wonderful! So far we've eaten lots of steaks, and wonderful salads (salads usually just have lettuce, tomato and onions and oil and vinegar, but they are good). Empanadas are a more typical food, which are meat pies, kind of shaped like a ravioli and baked (sometimes fried). Today at school, I had a vegetable tort with pumpkin on top - it was ok, not the best thing I've eaten here, but for a cafeteria, not bad. Today in class we had a whole discussion on yerba mate, which I will blog about later, after I experience it.
Generally, the food here is very European. Lots of pasta, meat, potatoes (the potatoes are so flavorful, they're amazing), quiche, etc. Prosciutto is cheap, cheeses are plentiful and good (as is the wine), and you can buy fresh pasta at stores all over town to take home and cook yourself. We are in Latin America, and sometimes it feels that way, but the food is very European.
My observation for today:
This isn't really an observation, but I forgot to mention that the floors in my apartment are heated. Now what a good idea is that?!! I can walk around in my socks and my feet are not cold. Warm air rises, so I don't have all of the heat rising to the ceiling right away (where I am not sitting). Now, I'd prefer not to have heat, but if I have to have it, I say, heated floors are the way to go.
The level of the class is a little high. The teacher commented that I was "timido" (shy) - in fact I am, but I was also a little overwhelmed. I understand almost everything, but can only utter a few words, while the other students string together several sentences at a time. But I was relieved to find that I often understood things that they didn't - so what I lack in ability to speak, I have in comprehension. I decided to stay in the class because I want to be pushed, and feel like I need to work to keep up with the others (unlike my Italian class this past semester where I felt I didn't need to study because the other students were so low).
Afterwards I met Larry and his former Spanish teacher, Juliana. First I had my first taxi adventure.
I called Larry on my new cell phone that I got today at school, and he gave me the address of Daniela Wasser School, where he was waiting for his teacher to finish class. The address he gave me was 4832 Cordoba. I asked for the cross street, which was Julian Alvarez (I'm used to being in countries where addresses are useless). I got into the cab and decided to just go ahead and give him the address, but I did it the way we say addresses in the U.S. - cuarenta-ocho trenta y dos Cordoba (48-32 Cordoba). The taxi driver sped towards the Plaza de Mayo. I didn't think anything of it -I actually thought I could walk to where Larry was, because he said he was not far from where I was.
As we got closer to "el centro" traffic became more congested. The driver went down a small street to go over to Cordoba, and traffic was at a standstill - felt like I was in Manhatten. I asked him if I could walk, and he objected (I thought it would be faster). Finally we reached Cordoba and he rolled up to 832. I said, no 4832! At which point he said something I didn't understand and we sped off in the opposite direction (he was probably cursing me out).
Cordoba is a wide street of about 8 lanes that was totally congested. Buses spewed out black smoke and cars cut each other off. My driver honked his horn at everyone (as if it would help). We passed Junin, where I started out and continued on. And continued on. And continued on. The fare when we got to 832 Cordoba was about 5 pesos (a little over 1 dollar), but the time we got to 4832 Cordoba, it was over 15 pesos (I guess we had traveled 40 blocks from the original wrong location). The only problem was there was no 4832. There was 4830 and 4834, but no 32.
The driver seemed a bit upset at this point. I told him the cross street and he told me it was 5 streets back in the other direction. I told him it was ok, I could walk, and that I would call and confirm the address. He kept insisting that I had to say there was no 32. I kind of figured that out. I called Larry. Turned out that Daniela Wasser was at 4382. Somehow the numbers got crossed in the translation from the person Larry spoke to, to Larry, to me.
It was an adventure and I learned some important things.
As I walked to meet Larry, who was now on his way to meet me halfway, I felt in my front pocket for my wallet (which is not where I normally keep it, but have been told to do here). It wasn't there. I felt the other front pocket - no wallet. My back pockets - not there. My jacket - no sign of it. I felt flush and panicked, thinking I had left it in the cab (or that the driver had somehow robbed me). I opened my bag and for some reason, I had put my wallet in my bag. Careless of me and a sign that all of this talk about being careful was making me paranoid.
I met up with Larry and his wonderfully sweet teacher and we walked to Palermo Viejo and went to a bookstore with a cafe in the back. Larry told me this was his favorite bookstore. If I had a peso for every time Larry told me "this is a really good bookstore" or "this is a really good CD shop" - I could retire here. But it was a nice bookstore with a very interesting interior, and I could see why it was Larry's favorite.
We sat down and a sort of punky looking (or was it just "fashionable") waitress came over and laid some menus on the table (only 2 menus for the three of us). Larry and Juliana were chatting and I was waiting for a menu. Finally I slipped one of them in my direction. We decided what we wanted, and sat and continued to talk. Juliana was lovely, and it was really easy to speak Spanish with her (her Spanish was clear and she was very patient with us). Off to the side of where we were sitting was the smoking area, which was simply a section of the bookstore that was set off with windows and a set of french doors that opened to where we were. The smoke blew out from the smoking area in huge clouds and passed by our table. I didn't really get the point of the smoking section, but it seemed it was meant to concentrate the smoke so that it would blow out in clouds to where we were sitting (reminded me of the fog blowing in in San Francisco).
Our waitress was seated in the smoking section talking to her friends, while another guy stood behind the counter where the register was and another guy was behind another counter in charge of the music. The three of us sat for the longest time for someone to come and take our order. Juliana seemed unphased. Larry and I both commented to each other about how hungry we were, and noted that our waitress was having a smoke.
Juliana got up, spoke to the CD guy and eventually bought a CD. We waited for our waitress, and waited, and waited. Finally she came over and took our order.
We ordered a cheese tray and a small pizza with fresh mozzarella, basil and fresh tomato. A huge tray came out that the three of us could not finish. It had cheeses, salami, ham and olives, and we had a basket of bread and olive oil. As we sat eating that and I looked around at the other customers with blond and light brown hair, one redhead, everyone looking very trendy, two people working on their laptops near us, others in the smoking room, smoking and working on their laptops, and one guy above us on the balcony working on his laptop, I said to Larry, "if I didn't know any better I would swear we were not in Argentina'. If I had taken a picture and showed it to you, you would have thought it was just a nice cafe in any city in the US - New York, Seattle, Chicago or San Francisco. The only thing that gave it away was when people spoke, and gestured, or the slow service of our waitress (well, that might also be possible in a trendy cafe in any city in the US).
We finished the evening by taking a cab back to a point equal distance from my and Larry's apartments. We walked a bit, ate (again) and Larry and I split ways and we walked home.
Larry, by the way, now has his own blog - you must check it out. His sense of humor comes through better in his blog than I can relay through my own writing. It is a riot!
Debra requested more information about the food. It is wonderful! So far we've eaten lots of steaks, and wonderful salads (salads usually just have lettuce, tomato and onions and oil and vinegar, but they are good). Empanadas are a more typical food, which are meat pies, kind of shaped like a ravioli and baked (sometimes fried). Today at school, I had a vegetable tort with pumpkin on top - it was ok, not the best thing I've eaten here, but for a cafeteria, not bad. Today in class we had a whole discussion on yerba mate, which I will blog about later, after I experience it.
Generally, the food here is very European. Lots of pasta, meat, potatoes (the potatoes are so flavorful, they're amazing), quiche, etc. Prosciutto is cheap, cheeses are plentiful and good (as is the wine), and you can buy fresh pasta at stores all over town to take home and cook yourself. We are in Latin America, and sometimes it feels that way, but the food is very European.
My observation for today:
This isn't really an observation, but I forgot to mention that the floors in my apartment are heated. Now what a good idea is that?!! I can walk around in my socks and my feet are not cold. Warm air rises, so I don't have all of the heat rising to the ceiling right away (where I am not sitting). Now, I'd prefer not to have heat, but if I have to have it, I say, heated floors are the way to go.
1st day of school
Well, actually, it isn't my first day of school yet. I haven't had class yet, but just finished with my orientation and placement test.
We met at a coffee shop near the school (which by the way, I have no idea where I am now) at 9 a.m. It was easy to find my group - a large group of people had already assembled in the center of this cafe. More and more people arrived, all in their early twenties (very early twenties), suddenly I started to feel very old, but it was ok. They were cute. Conversations went kind of like this ...where are you from?... oh, I went to school there...what was your major?... cool!
The guy across from me was very nice and knew enough to ask me "What do you do?" - I think I'm the only one in our group who actually has a job.
Then the group of us, which was quite large, walked through the streets of Buenos Aires (taking over the street) to get to the school where we had our placement oral exam. I did fairly well. It was challenging for me. The instructor asked me if I wanted level 5 or 6 (6 being the highest) and I thought I'd go for the challenge. From now on, I'm going to speak to Larry in Spanish too, and try my best to live these two months in Spanish (though it will be hard if I hang around these kids, which I probably won't).
I'm now in the computer room at school and am going to head to the cafeteria to see what kind of food they have for lunch. Then I have my class from 1-4.
The guy working in the computer room is quite funny. When I came in, another guy was here, and I just asked him, "any computer?" (in Spanish of course) and he said "si" and kind of brushed me towards a computer. I was the first one here. As the other new students filter in after their oral exams it is the same routine. This other guy, who apparently works here, is not in the room. They walk in, see me and ask, "do we need a password?" - I say no, but you need to tell that guy that you want to use the computer. They get tired of waiting, sit down and start typing and he walks in, goes up to them and with an attitude, asks them who they are. He's kind of like a guard dog that leaves the house and then barks at you when he realizes you are already inside. I guess this is what college life is like (they didn't have computer rooms when I was in college).
Ok, I'm going to go take my liver pills and limp over to the cafeteria and see what the kids are talking about now (and I was like, dude, no way).
We met at a coffee shop near the school (which by the way, I have no idea where I am now) at 9 a.m. It was easy to find my group - a large group of people had already assembled in the center of this cafe. More and more people arrived, all in their early twenties (very early twenties), suddenly I started to feel very old, but it was ok. They were cute. Conversations went kind of like this ...where are you from?... oh, I went to school there...what was your major?... cool!
The guy across from me was very nice and knew enough to ask me "What do you do?" - I think I'm the only one in our group who actually has a job.
Then the group of us, which was quite large, walked through the streets of Buenos Aires (taking over the street) to get to the school where we had our placement oral exam. I did fairly well. It was challenging for me. The instructor asked me if I wanted level 5 or 6 (6 being the highest) and I thought I'd go for the challenge. From now on, I'm going to speak to Larry in Spanish too, and try my best to live these two months in Spanish (though it will be hard if I hang around these kids, which I probably won't).
I'm now in the computer room at school and am going to head to the cafeteria to see what kind of food they have for lunch. Then I have my class from 1-4.
The guy working in the computer room is quite funny. When I came in, another guy was here, and I just asked him, "any computer?" (in Spanish of course) and he said "si" and kind of brushed me towards a computer. I was the first one here. As the other new students filter in after their oral exams it is the same routine. This other guy, who apparently works here, is not in the room. They walk in, see me and ask, "do we need a password?" - I say no, but you need to tell that guy that you want to use the computer. They get tired of waiting, sit down and start typing and he walks in, goes up to them and with an attitude, asks them who they are. He's kind of like a guard dog that leaves the house and then barks at you when he realizes you are already inside. I guess this is what college life is like (they didn't have computer rooms when I was in college).
Ok, I'm going to go take my liver pills and limp over to the cafeteria and see what the kids are talking about now (and I was like, dude, no way).
Sunday, June 3, 2007
More odds and ends
Ok, I ranted a little last time...
I was in bed early because I was exhausted, but somewhere in the well in the center of this building and the one next door, someone started playing a guitar and singing. It's still going on, now with the smell of fried onions and something delicious. I'm wide awake, my computer is still acting crazy, so why not add some more random thoughts and observations.
-Men here kiss each other on the cheek when they greet one another -and they're not gay.
-People who ride the subway are not as attractive as people on street level. (that is not a judgement, just an observation)
-Larry walks very fast.
-The elevator in Larry's building is smaller than a phone booth (we both fit, but can not turn around, and when Larry is wearing a coat, I hardly fit).
-My elevator is small, but bigger than Larry's (supposedly fits 3 people).
-They still use skeleton keys here, which are very difficult to maneuver.
-People seem to enjoy "menial" labor, from the people cleaning the streets, the guy who removes your tray from your table when you are done eating at the food court to waiters, and everyone else who serves the public (well the people in the money changing place were not all that happy).
I was in bed early because I was exhausted, but somewhere in the well in the center of this building and the one next door, someone started playing a guitar and singing. It's still going on, now with the smell of fried onions and something delicious. I'm wide awake, my computer is still acting crazy, so why not add some more random thoughts and observations.
-Men here kiss each other on the cheek when they greet one another -and they're not gay.
-People who ride the subway are not as attractive as people on street level. (that is not a judgement, just an observation)
-Larry walks very fast.
-The elevator in Larry's building is smaller than a phone booth (we both fit, but can not turn around, and when Larry is wearing a coat, I hardly fit).
-My elevator is small, but bigger than Larry's (supposedly fits 3 people).
-They still use skeleton keys here, which are very difficult to maneuver.
-People seem to enjoy "menial" labor, from the people cleaning the streets, the guy who removes your tray from your table when you are done eating at the food court to waiters, and everyone else who serves the public (well the people in the money changing place were not all that happy).
Odds and Ends
Here are some totally unrelated random thoughts and observations.
-I have not noticed any crime (but am aware and being safe).
-Water does move down the drain in the opposite direction (we tested it in Larry's sink, since my toilet flushes with a big rush of water that goes straight down).
-The weather is fantastic - like a warm East Coast fall. (warmer than SF right now)
-The wine is amazing and cheap.
-The beef is amazing and cheap.
-People are very attractive, and even those that are not (by "normal" standards) have amazing character in their faces.
-People we've dealt with so far have been very friendly (once they realize we speak Spanish).
-I love my little apartment. It's cozy and quiet.
-We sat in an outdoor cafe until after 2 a.m. last night.
-The bars are closed today (and from midnight last night) because there is an important election today in Buenos Aires for governor (mayor).
-People speak with their hands, like Italians.
-I heard a saying that Argentines are Italians who speak Spanish and think they're French - kind of a criticism - it does sum up who they are, but really they are Argentines, who like most Latin American cultures, are a wonderful mix of many cultural elements, blended together to create their own unique expression of themselves. Perhaps they are Italians (and Germans and Spaniards and Poles, Armenians, Jews, Arabs, and some Chinese etc.) who speak Spanish and think they are French, but they know how to live, and if they've got an attitude (which I have not noticed), they damn well deserve to! We love to talk about "our way of life" that we have to bomb other countries to preserve - here they are able to do that without a war economy or fear that some obscure terrorist group, that may not even really exist, is going to bomb them and try to take away their freedom.
-They do have penicillin.
-I have not noticed any crime (but am aware and being safe).
-Water does move down the drain in the opposite direction (we tested it in Larry's sink, since my toilet flushes with a big rush of water that goes straight down).
-The weather is fantastic - like a warm East Coast fall. (warmer than SF right now)
-The wine is amazing and cheap.
-The beef is amazing and cheap.
-People are very attractive, and even those that are not (by "normal" standards) have amazing character in their faces.
-People we've dealt with so far have been very friendly (once they realize we speak Spanish).
-I love my little apartment. It's cozy and quiet.
-We sat in an outdoor cafe until after 2 a.m. last night.
-The bars are closed today (and from midnight last night) because there is an important election today in Buenos Aires for governor (mayor).
-People speak with their hands, like Italians.
-I heard a saying that Argentines are Italians who speak Spanish and think they're French - kind of a criticism - it does sum up who they are, but really they are Argentines, who like most Latin American cultures, are a wonderful mix of many cultural elements, blended together to create their own unique expression of themselves. Perhaps they are Italians (and Germans and Spaniards and Poles, Armenians, Jews, Arabs, and some Chinese etc.) who speak Spanish and think they are French, but they know how to live, and if they've got an attitude (which I have not noticed), they damn well deserve to! We love to talk about "our way of life" that we have to bomb other countries to preserve - here they are able to do that without a war economy or fear that some obscure terrorist group, that may not even really exist, is going to bomb them and try to take away their freedom.
-They do have penicillin.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
High Tea
First of all, I have to say I'm having major e-mail issues. So, if you've written to me, please try again. I think I just lost all of my e-mails I've gotten since I've been here - spread the word. I won't go into it any more than that. I think I solved the problem and can now blog freely, so my computer is not going to go flying out the window like it seemed destined to about an hour ago.
I'm supposed to be napping. Larry and I are going to meet and have a light supper and a bottle of wine. I think we're going to his neighborhood empanada place. I want to try "locro" which everyone was eating last night. I hope it doesn't have tripe or brains or anything like that in it - it's some sort of stewy soup - looked like everyone was enjoying it.
Today I met Larry and we walked around Recoleta, which is really a high-fashion, upper-crust kind of place. Beautiful tree lined streets and known for older women in furs, called "conchetta" (I think the men are called "conchetto"). We started at the church we were at last night. An art festival/market was set up outside, apparently happens every weekend.
We walked through the stalls and looked at the wares - jewelry made from beads, traditional instruments like claves and maracas made from gourds, and came across one stall with some very elaborate jewelry made from very large gemstones. Larry picked up one necklace and said to me, "How could anyone wear this? It's so heavy!!" The woman who ran the stall suddenly appeared (or made her presence known to us), dressed in a fur coat and matching fur hat, wearing large designer sunglasses, and in classic Argentine Spanish explained to us that this jewelry was "couture" (I don't even know how to spell it), and she dropped names like Chanel, Louis Vitton and Karl Lagerfeld, at which point she pointed to a photo from a newspaper hanging in her stall showing her standing next to Lagerfeld himself. She told us this jewelry was not meant for wearing to the supermarket, but was for places like the Hotel Alvear, one of the most expensive hotels in Buenos Aires. She was a trip. She was the mother of all conchettas, she supplied them with their jewels. We walked away and I said to Larry, "they don't have people like that in markets in Mexico" - we cracked up. I wish I had a video of her, because she really was impossible to capture with words. She was over-the-top, gayer than the gayest gay man on earth, and totally serious.
We walked through the Recoleta Cemetary where Evita and every other famous Argentine is buried (we never found Evita's final resting place) and then went and had lunch at a very nice outdoor cafe (where a stream of children came to our table one by one and placed something like a pack of tissues on the table and then later came back to try to get some money out of us - we even had an accordian player who was probably around 7 years old). Lunch was followed by ice cream (dulce de leche) and then we went to Palermo Viejo, a trendy up and coming neighborhood where I bought two scarves (from India). Finally, we hopped in a cab and headed to the Hotel Palace Alvear (without our gemstone necklaces, both of us wearing jeans and sneakers, me with a scarf) for high tea.
For an incredibly low price (maybe 10 bucks each) we sat and had a classic high tea, complete with tea (of course) little cakes and scones, lemon curd and marmelade and a desert, plus a Kir Royale (champagne and cassis) that the manager threw in because Larry told him he had seen him rise up in rank over the years he'd been coming to Buenos Aires. First of all, in the states, I would not even feel comfortable entering a place like that, and I especially would not go in dressed the way I was, and our high tea would have been a huge extravagance that I could not afford on my teacher's salary.
As we were leaving, the manager told us the next time we came back, he'd be the owner.
So, now I'm supposed to be napping and Larry is going to call in about 30 minutes, but instead, I'm going to try to post the picture of me and Larry at the Alvear Palace with our high tea.
More to come.
I'm supposed to be napping. Larry and I are going to meet and have a light supper and a bottle of wine. I think we're going to his neighborhood empanada place. I want to try "locro" which everyone was eating last night. I hope it doesn't have tripe or brains or anything like that in it - it's some sort of stewy soup - looked like everyone was enjoying it.
Today I met Larry and we walked around Recoleta, which is really a high-fashion, upper-crust kind of place. Beautiful tree lined streets and known for older women in furs, called "conchetta" (I think the men are called "conchetto"). We started at the church we were at last night. An art festival/market was set up outside, apparently happens every weekend.
We walked through the stalls and looked at the wares - jewelry made from beads, traditional instruments like claves and maracas made from gourds, and came across one stall with some very elaborate jewelry made from very large gemstones. Larry picked up one necklace and said to me, "How could anyone wear this? It's so heavy!!" The woman who ran the stall suddenly appeared (or made her presence known to us), dressed in a fur coat and matching fur hat, wearing large designer sunglasses, and in classic Argentine Spanish explained to us that this jewelry was "couture" (I don't even know how to spell it), and she dropped names like Chanel, Louis Vitton and Karl Lagerfeld, at which point she pointed to a photo from a newspaper hanging in her stall showing her standing next to Lagerfeld himself. She told us this jewelry was not meant for wearing to the supermarket, but was for places like the Hotel Alvear, one of the most expensive hotels in Buenos Aires. She was a trip. She was the mother of all conchettas, she supplied them with their jewels. We walked away and I said to Larry, "they don't have people like that in markets in Mexico" - we cracked up. I wish I had a video of her, because she really was impossible to capture with words. She was over-the-top, gayer than the gayest gay man on earth, and totally serious.
We walked through the Recoleta Cemetary where Evita and every other famous Argentine is buried (we never found Evita's final resting place) and then went and had lunch at a very nice outdoor cafe (where a stream of children came to our table one by one and placed something like a pack of tissues on the table and then later came back to try to get some money out of us - we even had an accordian player who was probably around 7 years old). Lunch was followed by ice cream (dulce de leche) and then we went to Palermo Viejo, a trendy up and coming neighborhood where I bought two scarves (from India). Finally, we hopped in a cab and headed to the Hotel Palace Alvear (without our gemstone necklaces, both of us wearing jeans and sneakers, me with a scarf) for high tea.
For an incredibly low price (maybe 10 bucks each) we sat and had a classic high tea, complete with tea (of course) little cakes and scones, lemon curd and marmelade and a desert, plus a Kir Royale (champagne and cassis) that the manager threw in because Larry told him he had seen him rise up in rank over the years he'd been coming to Buenos Aires. First of all, in the states, I would not even feel comfortable entering a place like that, and I especially would not go in dressed the way I was, and our high tea would have been a huge extravagance that I could not afford on my teacher's salary.
As we were leaving, the manager told us the next time we came back, he'd be the owner.
So, now I'm supposed to be napping and Larry is going to call in about 30 minutes, but instead, I'm going to try to post the picture of me and Larry at the Alvear Palace with our high tea.
More to come.
First Day in BsAs
Wow! First of all, it took me forever to be able to post this blog today. For some reason I am only able to access blogger in Spanish, and even then, it was not registering my l0g-on information and didn't let me log on, until now, 12:15 a.m., June 2.
I arrived without a hitch - flying business class on such a long trip is definitely mandatory -forget the food (filet mignon and wine), the ability to put my feet up and stretch out to an almost horizontal position and actually get some sleep was well worth the little extra I had to pay to buy enough miles to upgrade.
Made it to my apartment with no problem and the place is very cute - small and cozy, but definitely better than a hotel room.
Finally, after unpacking and playing with my computer (in frustration) trying to get it to work properly, I called Larry. He told me to meet him at an ice cream shop which sounded like it was about 5 blocks away. It turned out to be further and I ended up in a coffee shop a block away from where we were supposed to meet. He was wondering where I was and I was wondering where he was. I came back here and called him. Fortunately, he got his cell phone working and called me, and eventually he came here. But we seemed destined to miss each other again. He buzzed and I thought I had to go down to meet him, but I pressed a button on the intercom just to see what it did, thinking he would still be waiting downstairs. I went down to find him not there. So I came back in and here he was waiting outside my door!
Finally, my tour began. Larry showed me lots of sights, but really what I got a feel for was why Argentines, have the reputation they do. We walked by a church in Recoleta, the swanky area where Larry is staying (reminded me of the Upper West Side of NYC), and a wedding was just about to begin. The bride and her father stood outside the doors while guests still arrived (late) and lined up behind her - the guests dressed in formal wear, furs and jewels, everyone looking fab. The bride stood there for the longest time until finally the doors opened to this magnificent old church (built in like 1752 or something like that) with a brilliant golden alter and a choir singing pomp and circumstance. I actually got teary eyed, it was so moving, so theatrical, and according to Larry, so Argentine.
We went to the Plaza de Mayo, where the mothers of the disappeared still convene every Thursday to protest the disappearance of their loved ones, and a protest was going on, lines of police behind a barracade seeming to protect the Casa Rosada (Pink House) where Evita appeared to the crowds and sang, "Don't Cry for me Argentina" (well maybe she didn't do that in real life), grand old neocolonial buildings lined boulevard buzzing with traffic, we rode the oldest subway in South America (I think Larry said it was the 3rd oldest in the world) and finally went back to Larry's neighborhood to eat empanadas, which his doorman said are the best in South America - they were pretty tasty, those with a delicious bottle of wine and a salad set us both back a whopping $8 with tax and tip.
What really strikes me is the spirit of the people. Everyone is laughing, and they look intently at one another while they speak, hands flailing in the air as they gaze intently into one another's eyes. It doesn't matter who is talking, two male or two female friends, lovers, family members, they all look at one another while they are speaking, and seem so inextricably connected.
The other thing that struck me was the prevalance of older men everywhere we went. I don't know why I don't notice them in the states. I guess they are usually with their wives, children, grandchildren, or driving around looking for parking. But here, older guys hang out with each other and are involved in what seem like deep philosophical discussions. This is where I want to get old. I look at them and picture them dancing tango with ease. I look at them and wonder what stories they have to tell.
It's been a great first day. Great food, great sights, great people and spirit. The weather is perfect, the city is very walkable, the wine is cheap and amazingly good, and the food is also cheap and amazingly good. I think I will definitely be back, but for the next two months, I think I have a lot in store for me.
I arrived without a hitch - flying business class on such a long trip is definitely mandatory -forget the food (filet mignon and wine), the ability to put my feet up and stretch out to an almost horizontal position and actually get some sleep was well worth the little extra I had to pay to buy enough miles to upgrade.
Made it to my apartment with no problem and the place is very cute - small and cozy, but definitely better than a hotel room.
Finally, after unpacking and playing with my computer (in frustration) trying to get it to work properly, I called Larry. He told me to meet him at an ice cream shop which sounded like it was about 5 blocks away. It turned out to be further and I ended up in a coffee shop a block away from where we were supposed to meet. He was wondering where I was and I was wondering where he was. I came back here and called him. Fortunately, he got his cell phone working and called me, and eventually he came here. But we seemed destined to miss each other again. He buzzed and I thought I had to go down to meet him, but I pressed a button on the intercom just to see what it did, thinking he would still be waiting downstairs. I went down to find him not there. So I came back in and here he was waiting outside my door!
Finally, my tour began. Larry showed me lots of sights, but really what I got a feel for was why Argentines, have the reputation they do. We walked by a church in Recoleta, the swanky area where Larry is staying (reminded me of the Upper West Side of NYC), and a wedding was just about to begin. The bride and her father stood outside the doors while guests still arrived (late) and lined up behind her - the guests dressed in formal wear, furs and jewels, everyone looking fab. The bride stood there for the longest time until finally the doors opened to this magnificent old church (built in like 1752 or something like that) with a brilliant golden alter and a choir singing pomp and circumstance. I actually got teary eyed, it was so moving, so theatrical, and according to Larry, so Argentine.
We went to the Plaza de Mayo, where the mothers of the disappeared still convene every Thursday to protest the disappearance of their loved ones, and a protest was going on, lines of police behind a barracade seeming to protect the Casa Rosada (Pink House) where Evita appeared to the crowds and sang, "Don't Cry for me Argentina" (well maybe she didn't do that in real life), grand old neocolonial buildings lined boulevard buzzing with traffic, we rode the oldest subway in South America (I think Larry said it was the 3rd oldest in the world) and finally went back to Larry's neighborhood to eat empanadas, which his doorman said are the best in South America - they were pretty tasty, those with a delicious bottle of wine and a salad set us both back a whopping $8 with tax and tip.
What really strikes me is the spirit of the people. Everyone is laughing, and they look intently at one another while they speak, hands flailing in the air as they gaze intently into one another's eyes. It doesn't matter who is talking, two male or two female friends, lovers, family members, they all look at one another while they are speaking, and seem so inextricably connected.
The other thing that struck me was the prevalance of older men everywhere we went. I don't know why I don't notice them in the states. I guess they are usually with their wives, children, grandchildren, or driving around looking for parking. But here, older guys hang out with each other and are involved in what seem like deep philosophical discussions. This is where I want to get old. I look at them and picture them dancing tango with ease. I look at them and wonder what stories they have to tell.
It's been a great first day. Great food, great sights, great people and spirit. The weather is perfect, the city is very walkable, the wine is cheap and amazingly good, and the food is also cheap and amazingly good. I think I will definitely be back, but for the next two months, I think I have a lot in store for me.
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