Feliz dia del Amigo

Today is Dia del Amigo - day of the friend. I have no idea what this day is or where it started, but there are signs all over the place for things you can buy for dia del amigo - chocolates, trinkets, food, etc. A few weeks ago we had la semana dulzura - sweets week - you were supposed to give someone a sweet and they in turn would give you a kiss. I found out about it a week too late - so I didn't get any kisses.

I went to McDonald's today. It has been 7 weeks that I've been here and I have not once stepped foot in an American fast food joint, other than to use the bathrooms at McDonald's. Well, today, I decided to walk through the Recoleta on the way to school. It was a beautiful walk in the brisk morning sunshine. I was looking for a cafe but nothing caught my interest. I wanted to sit outside and didn't want to sit where there were car and bus fumes, and then I came across the McCafe! I don't know if we have McCafes in San Francisco, but I know I have never seen one until I got here. I really wasn't expecting much, but I got a macchiato and tiramisu. I was feeling very low energy and thought the coffee and something sweet would perk me up.

They were both not bad. I'm not sure how good the tiramisu really was, but for McDonald's, it was not bad. It actually seemed like real tiramisu. And I have to say the coffee was quite good. Better than in a lot of restaurants, and definitely better than in our cafeteria at school.

It took me quite a while to walk across town to school and by the time I got there it was lunchtime. I went to the same restaurant as yesterday and had a breaded, fried chicken breast and steamed vegetables again. The vegetables were oversteamed again, but it was a decent lunch.

Today Nancy and I were supposed to do something in class. I had decided I was going to teach a lesson using a song. I wanted to do something that was along the lines of how I wanted to be taught. Nancy told a story of a whale. I'm not sure why she did that. It was the story of Keiko, the whale from "Free Willy", who was discovered in a tank outside of Mexico City and who was very unhealthy because the tank was too small and he was very unhappy. He was moved to Oregon to a bigger tank after children around the world sent money to set him free. There he was happier and gained weight and got stronger, but he was supposed to be set free. The only way that could be done was if they found a pod of whales that spoke the same language as him. They found this pod off the coast of Iceland. So he was moved to another tank there and they gradually started letting him swim out into the ocean to join this other pod of whales. Well, he didn't like the ocean and preferred his tank and he didn't like the other whales. The money from the foundation was beginning to run out and they didn't know what to do. The problem was solved when he died. That's the story.

It was actually interesting because she used the board a lot and spoke at a level that I could understand, so I didn't mind a whole lot. We had a brief discussion afterwards.

After the break it was my turn. I used a song by Ricardo Arjona called "Mojado", which is about the undocumented who cross the border to work in the US. My objective was to try to get the students to work with one another while doing the different exercises I had. They did work together a little, but Daniel seemed kind of spaced out and Cynthia doesn't like to do anything that involves reading. She gave her opinion on things in the song but based on her imagination and not the actual words of the song. It was a very strange experience trying to teach a class in Spanish. Claudia kept interrupting too and changing the topic, which made it kind of difficult for me to keep them focused on what we were doing. But overall, it went well, and Nancy said she liked the lesson. She is always asking about vocabulary and I had a vocabulary matching exercise where they had to use the context of the song to guess the meanings and choose the correct definition. She liked that, and I have to say it worked really well.

I had a nice walk home and I'm now drinking a glass of wine and planning on cooking dinner at home tonight. I am 99% cured, but still feel like there is some congestion in my chest. I want to be well for the weekend as this is my last weekend here. I read yesterday that this year has been the worst outbreak of bronchitis in X years (I forget how many). I might have had bronchitis, but since I didn't go to the doctor and treated myself, I'll never know, but I think the antibiotics definitely helped.

I'm glad I'll be going home soon. I've had a great time, but I am ready for familiar surroundings, clean air and Trader Joe's. I'm also tired of being a student and struggling to try to express myself. It's only been 7 weeks, and I'm ready to call this study thing quits, I can't imagine how my students do it year after year. Now I understand why they drop out of class after half a semester.

I bought a pair of tango shoes last night. I stopped in several shops and the pickings are pretty slim for me. I don't really like the style of tango shoes and would rather just wear a regular pair of shoes with a good sole for dancing. I think I might see if I can get a pair of shoes and have a suede sole put on them. The tango shoes are really kind of ...well, I don't know what word to use, but they are not shoes I am particularly attracted to. The newer styles are even worse than the traditional ones with very odd colors like red, neon green and orange.

Anyway, I stopped in a store not far from here called Tango Brujo. The woman who worked there was very nice and very helpful. At another shop I went to that is near school, I was ignored, and I went to one across the street from that one, but didn't know the difference between the different soles and the clerk wasn't that helpful. But at Tango Brujo, the clerk was very helpful, spent a lot of time with me and told me my Spanish was good! That sealed the deal for me! I decided I'd spend my money in a place where I got decent service, since the shoes at all of these places seem the same. They are all handmade and the prices seem pretty standard.

They also have classes there, but I'd have to lead and I'm not ready for that yet, so I'm sticking with my private lessons for now.

I bought a pair of black suede shoes with a suede sole. They are ok, I'm not crazy about them and doubt if I will end up going home with tons of tango shoes like I thought I would. I think the only thing I really want to buy a lot of is tea. It's lightweight, it's healthy and the teas here are not like what I can find in San Francisco - one of my favorites is camomile with anise.

I marched out of class today it was so bad...

Well, I didn't actually walk out of class during the class, though I was sitting there fantasizing about it.

My day started off as quite normal. I went to pick up my laundry and the ladies who were working there stopped talking and turned their backs when I walked in. The one who seems to be in charge, said, "senor?" today, and I opened my wallet to pull out the ticket. But since I've been using my credit card to pay for lunches now to save my cash, I had all of these credit card receipts in my wallet and had to pull out all of this paper to find the ticket. Finally I did and she brought me my clothes and told me it was 19 pesos. That's the most it has been since I've been here and I'm not sure why. Is this inflation?

I returned home, showered and got dressed and took the subte to Avenida de Mayo, went to a cafe for medialunas and cafe con leche and went to my tango class.

I think it's been a week since I've had a tango class. We started with walking and ochos. Marcelo kept saying "mas pivot" - more pivot, and "mas cintura" - more waist - when I was trying to do the ochos, which can be very difficult - you step at a diagonal, bring the other foot to meet the outstretched leg, and pivot to face the other direction - these can be done going forward or backwards, and are a lot easier (though still not easy) when at least you have a partner to hold on to. I started wondering why I am doing this stuff to myself. I could have a very comfortable life not learning anything new and not having to hear "mas pivot" or have people correct my Spanish constantly.

My feet were hurting me in my dance shoes, which I think are now too small, so I took them off and danced in my socks. Marcelo's tango studio is kind of dirty now, I think because he's been sick, so I ended up cleaning his floor with my socks, which are now black on the bottom.

Class was good, and aside from him continually telling me the same thing "mas pivot", I think I did ok and was not toooooo frustrated.

I went to a new restaurant for lunch where I found the ever elusive vegetable. I ordered a breaded, fried chicken breast that came with olives and tomatoes and capers on top and a side of steamed vegetables. Miracle of all miracles! The veggies were really steamed, like oversteamed, but they were vegetables. The waiter brought olive oil which I put on them with lemon and a little salt. They were delicious and so was the chicken, but the waiter was so slow. When I got there I motioned for him to bring me a menu and he ignored me - he was serving a large table of people who must have been very important because he kept going back to them, bringing them bread, bringing them drinks, etc., and ignoring my request for a menu. I thought about just getting up and getting one, but I didn't. Instead I waited. Finally he came over and said something to me, but had no menu, and I said, "la carta?" - he said, "una carta?", and I said, "duh" (I didn't really say that, but I was thinking it). I don't get why menus are so difficult to come by - I need to ask someone for an explanation.

Anyway, I finally got my food, and finally got my check (which I also had to wait for after I motioned for it) and got to school late.

I took the elevator up to the 3rd floor and went to use the restroom. I was actually thinking, while sitting in the restaurant waiting for the check, that I might not go to school today, then I decided that I would go but tell Martin that I wanted to go to the Plaza de Mayo to see Las Madres again because I was leaving in a week and it was a nice day. I hadn't finished the homework for him because I didn't understand it, and neither did Hernan, and he hasn't returned the homework I went to give him last week when I was sick and traveled to school just to turn in, so I am feeling kind of pissed off at him right now. But actually I was more pissed off after today's class.

So when I went to the bathroom, I passed my old classroom, where level 6 is. The classroom has a big window to the hallway and I saw that Martin was standing in front of the class talking. I went and used the restroom and was fantasizing that because Claudia was sick (she was supposed to be teaching level 6 today), that Martin was teaching her class and we had Marcela. When I came out of the bathroom, I looked in the classroom again and saw Nancy sitting there looking quite dazed.

I went over the classroom, and looked in through the door and Nancy saw me and motioned for me to enter. I did. Big mistake.

There were maybe 6 students in the class. Nancy was the only one from our class - the others were from level 6. I sat against the wall near the door, which was a little far away from everyone else. Martin told me to move over to where they were, but it was really crowded and I told him there were many people, so I didn't move. It's a good thing I didn't because as more and more people showed up, the room got quite full. At the peak, there were 12 students, and there may have been 15 desks. So it's not like I was sitting really far away from everyone.

I felt like Martin was picking on me. I think he called on me because mine was the only name he remembered, but he was also picking on me and I was getting really pissed off and started fantasizing about getting up and storming out.

First he asked me a question about some verb tense. He had told us we were going to review the subjunctive but started by first reviewing the indicative (which is anything that is not subjunctive). He put the tenses that are used in the indicative on the board (this is the first time he's used the board when teaching us) and just spoke non-stop. Every now and then he'd ask someone a question, and it was almost always me. Finally I asked him why he kept calling on me. I forget what he said, but it was really bugging me. I held my notebook in front of my face and said, "I'm not here, I'm invisible."

When Cynthia came, she was sitting on the other side of the room facing me. She looked bored, and I was so bored I was ready to scream. I was sitting there looking at Martin, who is short and very thin and has this big head of curly hair. His legs were so thin and he was wearing these big sneakers that seemed too big for his feet. When he turned sideways he looked quite odd with this big head of curly hair, this rail thin body and these big shoes on his feet. I drew a picture of him to keep myself from going nuts, but then scribbled over it because the way he was acting I was afraid he would come over and look at my notebook. I looked at Cynthia and she was looking like she was falling asleep and she made eye contact with me and we both smiled and Martin said, "Ricardo, what's up?" (in Spanish of course) and I said, nothing. And he said, why are you smiling? And I said, because I am happy to be sitting across from Cynthia. He then mentioned that my face was red - of course it was, he kept picking on me and I was embarrassed - but I told him I didn't sleep well last night and was tired, which was partly the truth. The real truth was that I had had enough of his intellectual/revolutionary teaching style, which was not revolutionary at all, unless revolutionary means ignoring all current pedagogy in language teaching and returning to a style of teaching that was used in the Middle Ages!

And for the next most ungodly boring hour I have ever spent in my life, he continued lecturing us on these verb tenses and every now and then would say, "Ricardo?" I tried looking interested, I tried looking bored, I tried not looking, but he still continued to call on me and I was really getting pissed off. Even when I was taking notes to keep myself from falling asleep, he'd call on me - I think he thought I was writing something else. It was worse than I remember my worst experiences with the nuns in Catholic school. I was thinking that I was going to leave today and also not go to his class next Tuesday or Thursday. I really understood what it felt like for a student to feel like the teacher had it in for them. This little shit is 12 years younger than me and he was treating me like I was a child!

Unfortunately, one of the Brazilian girls in the class said she liked his explanations! I could have killed her. He was very happy to hear that. She said that it was helpful to hear the explanations of why we use these different tenses and moods. Ugh! Now he's going to do this even more!

Of course, no one would say how bad it is for a language class of 12 students to sit for an hour and not interact at all with each other in the target language. In my opinion, if a teacher needs to take an hour to explain something, it is either too much, or it is stuff the students already know and is a waste of time. This was both.

Finally, he reached the end of his lecture and gave us an assignment and said we could work with a partner (yeah, finally, some interaction!!!!!). The 12 of us had been sitting there for an entire hour with our mouths shut except when he asked a question and someone had to demonstrate their knowledge of verb tenses (usually me). Finally, we were going to have a chance to interact.

But first he had to explain what we were going to do, which took another 15 minutes.

We had to write a short mystery. He outlined the steps we had to take - first setting the scene, then adding more information, then a dialog, etc. This is the same assignment he gave to us when he substituted for Fernanda when I was in level 6 and no one ever collected (and I had done it). It was a stupid exercise and I was pissed because again, this was not something that was going to help me interact with people on the street or understand people better. Obviously, the instruction here is focused on Spanish for academic purposes, but how many of us are planning on going to a university? It is a classic case of curriculum not meeting students' needs.

My partner was this cute Brazilian guy and he wasn't as obviously pissed off as I was. If he was bored, he probably just thought that was how school was supposed to be. We worked together nicely, I wrote while he dictated the story in a kind of Portuguese-Spanish, which I cleaned up and made pure Spanish. It turned out to be a good story, even though it was a horrible class. We only had 15 minutes to work on it.

Finally, the break arrived. Martin disappeared like a bat out of hell, I'm not sure why, but I didn't have time to tell him I wanted to go see the Madres. Instead I told Nancy and she decided to go with me. I was glad because if I had left on my own, I think Martin would have made it seem like I was a bad student, and Nancy, who was sitting there as bored as I was, but not revealing it on her face, would have continued to be the angelicly perfect student. Now she's just as bad as me.

We walked down the Avenida de Mayo. Nancy walked really fast and I ran to keep up with her. What is it with these people who walk so fast?!! I hardly had time to look up at the buildings. She said she liked that she could walk fast here because everybody walks fast. I pointed out to her that we were passing everyone on the sidewalk and that we had plenty of time. She still walked fast and I ran to keep up with her.

We got there early (because of the fast walking) and the madres were there with a table where they were selling books - at 3:30, they got their big banner and started marching. We watched, took a few pictures and then joined their march. After about 20 minutes of that, Nancy said she was going home.

I walked back up Avenida de Mayo with her and stopped in a store called "Paseo de la Resistencia", which was a kind of alternative artisan fair. Hippie-looking people made all kinds of things for sale. I got a few souvenirs to take home as gifts. Nancy didn't stay long and went home.

I'm now back in my nice clean apartment. It feels like summer outside, but I am really tired from staying up late last night and a really stressful class and all that walking, so I am taking a siesta.

zzzzzzzz

No phlegm and the it is like spring

Today I finally feel like I am on the road back to perfect health...or my normal state of health, which is not exactly perfect, but is functional.

I had a good sleep and spent a nice morning waking up with tea and fooling around on the computer. I put some finishing touches on my lesson for Friday and responded to a few e-mails. Then I walked to school, but because we were meeting at a Korean restaurant, I was able to leave later and stopped at a cafe on the way for a coffee and to do some homework.

I went to a cafe that Larry recommended. He said it is the best coffee in Buenos Aires. It was. The coffee here is unusually bad. I'm not really a coffee drinker, but I can tell the difference between a good cup of coffee and a bad one. When I have to put sugar in coffee to drink it, it is bad. Anyway, this cafe is nice and I had a great cup of cafe con leche and two delicious medialunas while I listened to jazz. After I got tired of that, I headed towards the Korean restaurant, but still had time to kill, so I decided to explore the neighborhood a little. I was a few blocks from school but there were some streets I have never walked down. So, I walked.

Suddenly, I came across a street that was blocked off to traffic and there were people in the middle of the street with large movie cameras. I thought they were filming a movie and I would stumble across Brad Pitt or something like that. Instead, it was a commemoration of the 13th anniversary of the bombing of an Israeli organization where 85 people were killed. They had a huge facade on the building that stands now where this cultural center used to stand. The facade was a photograph of the building that used to be there. It was quite haunting. They also had a huge banner with the names of all of those who were killed. I snapped a few photos and then went on and walked through Once, the neighborhood where my school is located and where there are lots of shops selling cheap trinkets, jewels, costumes, fabric, etc.

Lunch was good and it was fun having class in a restaurant. Claudia tried to make it a real class, but with us, it is impossible. She gave each one of us instructions. Mine said that I should try to initiate a conversation and engage in conversation with a balance of listening and speaking. It then told me that my role was to try to relate everything that was said to the issue of money and capitalism. I also had to guess what instructions, if any, my classmates had. It sounded like it would be fun.

Our homework was to read about paranormal ocurrances, and that was what Claudia wanted us to discuss. I had no idea how to relate that to capitalism. Somehow we got on the subject of quantum physics, Cynthia spoke about China (of course) and I don't think anyone accomplished what was written on their little piece of paper.

After the restaurant we went back to the cafe where I had been before lunch. Needless to say, I was buzzing after that.

When we left the cafe, it was a beautiful springlike day. The sun was shining brightly but at an angle as it was heading towards the horizon. This shed a beautiful bright golden light on everything and by the time I had gotten to Santa Fe, I decided I was going to walk to the museum, even though I wasn't sure where it was.

It was beautiful walking through the Recoleta with this golden afternoon sunlight. I took lots of pictures and found myself at the Recoleta cemetary. I went in because I thought it was feeding time for the hundreds of cats who lived there and wanted a photo of them, but there were just a few hanging around and not hoards like when someone comes and feeds them. I walked around the cemetary which also had this beautiful light and great shadows and took lots of pictures. I found Evita's tomb again and thought I'd get a better picture than when I went there with our school group, but there was a big crowd around it and it was impossible to get close.

After leaving the cemetary I walked over to the Museum of Belles Artes - the Fine Art Museum. They had a nice collection of Western art and some interesting Argentine stuff. It was a small museum and it was crowded, but I didn't stay long because it was such a beautiful day outside and I also wanted to get to the museum of modern art - MALBA. It was a nice walk through Palermo to get to the MALBA and it was a very nice, modern museum in a beautiful building. The sun had just about set and you could see the beautiful twilit sky through the many windows in the museum. Again, I rushed through the museum because it was so nice outside. I liked the art and the museum, but it was crowded (because today was a free day), and after I was told I couldn't take pictures, I saw no reason to linger.

I went down to the cafe and went outside and found a table overlooking the park. But when I looked at the menu and saw the prices, I decided I didn't want to hang out there and got up and walked a little more. I came to the next street which was Salguero, and I remembered it from the confusing episode with Hernan. So I knew where I was and walked up Salguero towards where Hernan almost didn't meet a few weeks ago.

As I found Persicco which is the same as Volta and then passed Nucha, which is the name of a cafe and not a street, I had to smile at the confusion over the text messages and lack of cell phone credits. I texted Hernan, simply saying "Nucha", and thinking that he would say, "What?", and I would say, "What's the matter, can't you read text messages?"

But instead I didn't hear right back from him, so I kept walking to see if I would end up on Santa Fe. I walked through some interesting neighborhoods and by now it was dark, so I put my camera away and stopped taking photos. As I got close to Puerreydon and Santa Fe where I knew there was a pizzeria that probably served empanadas, Hernan called me. I spoke to him in Spanish and he said, "I'm in public, do you mind if we speak in English?" - I don't really know what that was about, but we spoke in English. He told me he just finished exercising and asked if I wanted to meet for dinner. He said he'd be home in about an hour.

So I went to this restaurant on the corner of Puerreydon and Santa Fe and had two meat empanadas and a glass of wine while I tried to figure out this homework for Martin for tomorrow. He sang two songs for us on Tuesday, which were actually very nice, and were related to this theme of popular saints (not recognized by the Vatican, but venerated the same as those who are) and folk religion. These two songs were related to that theme.

I first took out my highlighter and highlighted every word I didn't understand because I know that if the percentage of unknown words in a text is high, then the text is too difficult to comprehend - this seemed the case with this song and I was very pissed off that we had to answer these questions about a song that was beyond the level of our comprehension. But once I highlighted these words, I figured, since I had time to kill, I would look them up in the dictionary. I have a Spanish-Spanish dictionary, and it is interesting to look up words and see if I understand the definitions.

Anyway, this became an interesting process for me, and even though I was still pissed at Martin for giving us this homework, I felt myself beginning to understand the song bit by bit.

Hernan texted me and said he was at home and I paid my bill and packed up and went to his place.

I decided to stop at his chino and get a bottle of wine and also stopped at a little shop across the street from his building that sells Middle Eastern and Armenian food to go. They had hummus, dolmas, roasted eggplant, dolmas, baklava and other yummy stuff. I got a package of dolmas and some baklava.

Hernan helped me with my homework and when we were finished I understood the song better, but Hernan didn't understand the instructions we had for homework, so I ditched it. I don't really care any more about this homework stuff - it is so frustrating and if I try to tell Martin why it was difficult for me he won't hear me and will rationalize why he gave us the assignment, so I'm just not going to bother anymore.

Then Hernan took me to Palermo Hollywood to Green Bamboo, a Vietnamese restaurant. I was expecting a nice place because when we tried to go there before, he couldn't even get a reservation, but I was also expecting a nice Vietnamese restaurant like I know Vietnamese restaurants - you know, something evocative of Indochine with bamboo, wicker, ceiling fans, and Vietnamese women dressed in traditional outfits. I forgot that this is Buenos Aires and Hernan is really a hip guy.

Green Bamboo was not like any Vietnamese Restaurant I've ever been to. There were no Vietnamese people there. It was in an old building and was fairly dimly lit with a large bar and a small room off to the side of the main room. There was a large painting of Ho Chi Minh, which you would never see in a Vietnamese restaurant in the states. When we got there, someone had to open the door for us and told us we'd have a short wait (someone also opened the door for us at Te Matare Ramirez - I guess these restaurants want to appear exclusive). We sat at the bar and had a frozen mojito, which was really yummy, but after the wine at Hernan's, I was starting to get a little drunk. The smells of the food made me really hungry.

While we were at the bar, Hernan read me the menu, which was bilingual. Even though I could understand most of the Spanish, the English translations helped. I didn't bring my glasses with me. But unlike at Te Matare Ramirez, this time I was able to hear him and understand what was on the menu.

After waiting a bit and soaking up the hip atmosphere (if you check the website via the link about you'll see what I mean by the atmosphere), we were escorted to our table.

A young couple sat next to us and lots of hip, young people were eating and sitting at the bar. I was probably the oldest person in there. The music was hip and the little dolls with bobble heads on the bar were hip, the paintings on the wall, which were not the usual paintings of Vietnam I'm used to seeing in Vietnamese restaurants, were hip. It was a great experience and I knew I wasn't in for meat and potatoes. Even though I don't consider myself particularly hip, and was dressed in my dirty jeans, sneakers and t-shirt that I had been wearing all day, I felt very comfortable there. Again, I wonder why I feel comfortable in hip joints here, and not in the US.

We started with calamari and shrimp. The calamari were fried and breaded and came with three sauces - a hot sauce that was not very hot, a lime sauce that was very limey and a sweet and sour sauce that was not that good. The dish was ok, but not great, but it was not meat and potatoes. The shrimp were deep fried with a coating of sesame seeds, and I don't know how they were able to do that. They were covered with sesame seeds. They came with the same mediocre sweet and sour sauce.

Hernan ordered seafood coconut curry for both of us. We both got coconuts filled to the brim with seafood curry in coconut sauce. It was almost pure seafood - fish, shrimp, scallops and mussles. It was very rich, and quite good. There was some rice in the bottom of the coconut, which reminded me of rice pudding by the time I got there because it was soaked in coconut milk. It wasn't spicy, but had flavors of lemon grass, coriander and ginger.

From there we walked back to Hernan's place through Palermo Hollywood, Palermo Viejo until we got to Palermo Soho, where he lives. It was a beautiful night and I needed to walk off that dinner.

We had a few bites of the baklava I bought at the place across the street, which was very rich and very sweet, before I hopped in a cab to come home.

It was a very full day and I can honestly say I don't feel sick anymore.

Tomorrow I have a tango class and then class with Martin in which I haven't finished the homework for and am resenting being put in the position where I had homework I didn't understand. I'm not sure how that will all work out, but I guess it's time for bed.

I'll post some of the photos I took today on my photo blog when I have time tomorrow or later this weekend.

The exterminator came and it feels like spring

I can't believe one week ago it was snowing, but alas, this is what weather does - it changes. It was a beautiful afternoon, but I had to rush home because I really needed a bathroom and try as I may, I couldn't find a public restroom along the way. Now that I'm inside, I want to take a nap and let rush hour pass without me suffering the fumes and the honking. I'll go out later and get something to eat and maybe take a walk.

Yesterday I mentioned that I taught in Korea last summer which got Nancy very excited. She said she loves Korean food and said there was one mentioned in her guide book. We looked and it is three blocks from school. During the break we decided we were going to talk Claudia into holding class in the Korean restaurant tomorrow, and when she came back, we mentioned it and she agreed. On the way home from school, I passed it. Even though I had walked down that street many times, I never noticed it - it is really three blocks from school.

Well, I couldn't wait until tomorrow and decided to go there today. When I got there, they had just opened. There was a Korean looking gentleman behind the bar and the restaurant was empty. I said, "are you open?" and he said yes. So I took a seat facing the entrance with my back to the bar. I sat there for a while and looked to see if he was going to come out from behind the bar and give me a menu, but when I looked, he was in the kitchen. I guess the customer is only minorly important here. The same thing happened when I went to drop my clothes off at the laundry today. The woman who smiled at me when she wanted my small change was there, as usual. And as usual, when I walked in, she looked up, and then looked down and then walked away. She was doing something that was too important to be interrupted (I don't know what she was up to today, but the last time I was there, she was sweeping the floor). So, I stood there and waited and when she was ready, she walked over to the counter and then said to me, "Senor?"

So today in the Korean restaurant I was already prepared to be ignored. Turns out the Korean guy behind the counter was not the waiter. A latino waiter came out and approached my table and asked me if I wanted a menu. Menus also seem to be something that people don't use a whole lot here - there are never enough of them and you almost always have to ask for one. Of course, I wanted a menu.

He brought me the menu and I decided what I wanted and like a good customer closed my menu to signify I was ready. And I waited patiently. And waited. And waited. Finally, I turned around and looked behind me and saw that he was busy putting glasses on tables. I motioned that I was ready and also noticed that it was now 12:25. I had been there 20 minutes and had not yet ordered! I told him I had little time. He got the hint.

I ordered "man du gook" which is Korean dumpling soup. It came with a few little side dishes - kim chi, some fish cake, small sardines, spicy cucumbers and some pickled vegetables and rice. The side dishes were not as good as at my favorite Korean restaurant in San Francisco, but it was so nice to not be eating meat and potatoes and to have something spicy! The soup was great and just what I needed. And the rice was also excellent - so much better than any rice I've had here.

All in all it was a good meal in spite of the fact that they started mopping the floor while I was there and the fumes from the detergent mixed with my food. I guess they don't want to have to pay people for time beyond the hours that they are open -so all of the prep and cleaning must be done during open hours. It was a strange experience and we'll see if it is better tomorrow.

I finished my homework for Martin and when we got to class and started checking it, I was the only one who had done it all! Cynthia doesn't do homework at all, and she definitely does not like to read. We had to read a very lengthy article about popular saints in Argentina. I thought that this was something that would never be permissible in an ESL class in the States and something I would never use because it was obviously about religion. Even though it was interesting, it was very Christo-centric, and if you didn't come from a culture that is not Christian based, you'd have no idea what this article was about. And of course, there was no preparation before reading it.

Anyway, Cynthia doesn't read or do homework, so it really didn't matter. She did get in a few tidbits about China, for example here, there are saints, but in China they are heroes. She kind of missed the point and mostly just sat there looking at the ends of her hair checking for split ends (that used to drive me nuts in Japan when the girls would do that).

We had an exercise after the reading where we had a sentence and then had to replace words in the sentence with different conjunctions such as "aunque" - although. It was a very poorly planned exercise, and wasn't clear at all. A lot of the connectors I had never seen before. I did it anyway, because I am thinking I am over-analyzing this stuff and should just do it even if it seems dumb.

When we started checking the exercise, I told Martin that the difficult part was that we didn't know the meaning of a lot of these connectors and there were no examples. He justified it somehow (I don't understand what he said) and Nancy backed me up, so he justified it again. Cynthia, who had not done the homework, said, "it's grammar" - as if that wasn't clear to me. I knew it was grammar, but my point was that you can not ask students to do a grammatical exercise with grammar that they have not been exposed to. I wish she had stuck to checking for split ends. Martin was not hearing what Nancy and I were saying, so I just shut up and we went ahead and did the exercise. I got more than half of them right, which just proves that the exercise was kind of mindless. I could do it even though I didn't know the meaning of many of the connectors - so what was the point?

Martin spoke for most of the class. We basically just read the answers to the questions we did for homework and then he commented on each one of them. For some reason he was looking at me more than he looked at Cynthia and Nancy and I was so bored, but had to maintain eye contact and appear interested. I was exhausted by the end of class.

I walked home and took a slightly different route. I was thinking of walking to the Museum of Belles Artes, but then decided to try the Holocaust Museum which I discovered last night and is closer to my apartment. When I got there, they had a sign that it was closed because of the 13th anniversary of a bombing that killed 85 people. The sign said, "we are closed, today, July 18th...", and I just walked away. But later, I looked at my watch and saw that tomorrow is the 18th. Oh well, maybe they were closed today too, but at least I know not to return tomorrow.

On the way home I passed some new shops and one of them was a candle shop. I bought a candle in a can and am burning in my bathroom now to try to get rid of the smell of the toxic fumes from Hernan's ant attack and from the exterminator this morning.

My phlegm is clear and the weather is warm

I think the antibiotics may be helping. I'm feeling less congested, though my body is still achy and I had a headache this morning. I do believe I am getting better.

Took the subte to Punta Cuore where I had fish for lunch. I'm trying to get away from the meat and potatoes diet, but it is hard. The fish was not that good. It tasted fishy, and I had to ask for lemon, which helped. It came on a bed of vegetables which were good, but they were really cooked and were sliced very thinly so that they hardly resembled vegetables anymore. There was a huge pile of "puré", which is mashed potatoes or squash. This was puré mixto, and I don't really know what it was but it was some sort of tuber mash. It wasn't bad.

The waiter I had today was really scattered and I wasn't feeling well, so I was kind of irritated. He brought menus to the table next to me and I sat there waiting. He took their menus and returned them to the pile of menus, and I sat there waiting. Finally, I had to motion to him that I needed a menu. I then had to wait about 20 minutes for the fish. I've never had to wait that long for anything here. I'll admit, it was because I wasn't feeling well, and went there hoping to be able to do my homework but there was a table of three guys sitting and drinking mate and talking very loudly. At one point, one of them was talking on his cell phone and the other two were talking loud. It was horrible, and I had a headache and didn't like the homework assignment and I was hungry and the service was very scattered.

I got to school a little early and went to the bar (that's what they call the cafeteria) and got a tea and went up to my classroom and finished writing this biography of a famous imaginary artist that was me, which was our assignment. I know, it was a strange assignment. We had to write a biography of an imaginary artist, but then Claudia added that that person was to be us. So basically we were writing an autobiography in third person that was imaginary. Very odd. And we were supposed to concentrate on the prepositions we studied. Well, the important thing is I did it. I know my problem is I am too intelligent and am over-analyzing these assignments (ahem - you know I'm kidding right?)

Class was fun as always with Claudia. We checked our homework, which Cynthia had not done. She's not getting away with what she did in level 6 and doesn't have an open forum to tell us all of the wonderful things about China. The funniest thing was when Claudia was discussing our upcoming assignment where we have to prepare either to teach a class or to give a speech. Cynthia said she would do something on China. Claudia teased her saying that she was going to talk about those unpure races, the Taiwanese and Japanese, who speak a dialect of Chinese (those were not her exact words, but it was something along those lines). Cynthia got started on one of her "in China" lectures, this one was about pollution and was in response to something Daniel was saying. She said in China the air is polluted but the ground it not (I really don't know what that meant). Claudia said, the ground is clean because Chinese walk on it - it was so funny. She was being sarcastic and obviously gets that Cynthia thinks the moon and sun revolve around the Chinese (and no one else).

I had my usual problems saying anything because Daniel and Nancy both like to talk a lot and they cut people off. I don't like feeling like I'm wrestling when I'm having a conversation, so I just held back and every now and then when Claudia noticed I was trying to say something, she would recognize me and allow me to have to floor. I think I'd have a hard time getting a word in in English, but it is even harder in Spanish. Daniel talks even when he doesn't know what to say. We were discussing a song that he wasn't in class for and he had no idea what it meant, but he was still talking and sort of thinking out loud. It was a little irritating, but Claudia does a really good job of controlling the class (for the most part).

I liked the variety of the things we did, but especially, I liked the way the class was managed. Even though I would have structured activities more and put students into pairs to discuss things (to maximize discussion time), I think Claudia is doing a good job. Several times she said "mira vos" (look at you), which cracks me up.

After class I walked home. It has warmed up considerably and it was nice to be out in the air again. I stopped at a cafe on Santa Fe and thought I'd have an empanada and something to drink, but I was sitting outside and the waiter never came out, so I got up and left. I ended up walking all the way home and just came up and took a nap.

Saul called and wanted to get together for dinner. We went to a restaurant a few blocks from here and I had a chicken cutlet with ham and cheese and tomato sauce and french fries. Wow, what an unhealthy dinner!

It's nice hanging out with Saul. Even though I really want to speak with portenos, because I love the way they talk, and Saul is from Paraguay and his Spanish is more like what I'm used to, it is still good practice for me to speak to him. He doesn't speak English, and he doesn't make fun of my Spanish (like Hernan does), and he's very patient. So, I got some good practice in with him. I also was able to ask him some questions to prepare for this lesson I'm going to teach on Friday.

I'm planning on introducing the song "Mojado" by Ricardo Arjona. Even though Arjona has some kind of pop songs about the usual things that pop songs are about, he also has quite a few songs that address political topics. Mojado, obviously is about undocumented immigrants in the US. And as they say here, he is also a "bonbon" (i.e., a babe!)

I asked Saul about undocumented people here and learned a little bit, but am going to continue talking to people and then write what I learned. Part of my lesson will be assigning a contact assignment for the students to find a native speaker and ask them about the situation with undocumented immigrants in Buenos Aires. According to Saul, the worst abuse is from the Chinese who employ them in chinos and pay them very low wages (I guess this is why the chinos are cheaper than other supermarkets).

Here's the video of Mojado if you want to check it out. It usually makes me cry.



After walking Saul down Florida street towards the subte, I walked over to Freddo to get the taste of chicken cutlet with ham, cheese and tomato sauce out of my mouth. It was very busy and everyone was getting big containers of ice cream. I remembered when I worked in an ice cream shop and we'd have summer nights that were non-stop, and often the ice cream was really hard and at the end of the night your arm and the muscle between your thumb and index finger was exhausted and sore. Every now and then, someone would give us a quarter tip, which we thought was a big deal (now I sound like my mom talking about her childhood where they were lucky to get an orange for Christmas). So I was standing in Freddo watching these girls working so hard and realized something was missing - the tip jar!

It's been a month and a half since I've had to suffer the distress of facing that tip jar and wondering if I am being a miser by not putting something in it for someone who takes my order, picks up a cup, fills it with coffee and puts it on the counter. I was spoiled by those hot summer nights scooping ice cream and going home with a sore muscle between my thumb and my index finger and was lucky to get a quarter tip, so I usually don't put anything in those tip jars, even though they have cute sayings like "tipping is good karma" or whatever. No tip jars here, even though these kids working in Freddo are probably making so much less than the kids working in Starbucks.

Ok, time to fix my evening cocktail of te de tilo and eucalyptus and peppermint liquor and hit the sack. The exterminator is coming tomorrow at 8:45.

Yuyos

Ok, now about the Feria de Mataderos. I was going to post a You Tube video but changed my mind. If you are interested, you can find several videos of the feria on You Tube, however.

Today we went to a fair that happens every Sunday in a neighborhood called Mataderos. We met at school and were taken by bus.

Mataderos is on the western edge of Buenos Aires and appeared to be a bit run down, definitely not the Recoleta. The fair took place in a large central plaza and ran for about 10 blocks if you count both directions it went. It took us about 2 hours to walk the whole thing allowing time to stop, shop, watch dancers and grab something to eat.

It was a lot of fun. It was a very festive atmosphere with a central stage and folkloric groups performing. Several lines of booths radiated from the central plaza in different directions and they were selling a variety of handicrafts, ponchos, ceramics, leather and wood products, mate gourds, etc. Most of it was not that interesting to me. I guess because I've traveled so much and have so many things I've bought on my travels that I don't know what to do with, I'm less likely to buy something unless it really is a "find".

What I did find that I'm very excited about, was a stall selling yuyos. Because of the way the pronounce "y" sounds here (like sh), the word is pronounced "shushos", which is a very funny thing. Argentine Spanish is very distinctive because of their pronunciation of y sounds and because they use the "vos" form of you. Both were kind of shocking at first, but now I am able to understand both the "sh" and "vos" with no problem, and actually like using both.

Anyway, Yuyos are medicinal herbs and they sell them in the drugstore and supermarket, but it was fun finding this little stall selling them, with packages that were labeled for the type of ailments they treat. I found one package called "anacahuita" which was for respiratory ailments, throat, and is an expectorant. Just what I was looking for! I bought a package for 2 pesos (less than a dollar) and when I told Larry what I bought, he said he wanted some, so we went back. Larry has the same thing I have and is still sick.

While we were there another woman who was looking said, "look they have peperina", and I noticed this bottle that had a liquid in it and it said Peperina on the label. Everyone at the fair was very friendly, so I asked the woman what Peperina was, and she said it was mint, and then opened a bottle and let me taste it. She said it was good to clear the respiratory passageways. She also had Eucalyptus liquor. She let me try that too. Both were sweet and quite nice. She said they had alcohol in them and to only take one shot at night before bed.

Now I am drinking my herbs which kind of tasted like dirt, but I put a shot of peperina in the tea. I think this is what is going to propel me back to health.

No End In Sight

I was about to do my blog for today and went to You Tube to find a video clip about where we went today. I noticed this little video and wanted to check it out. Seems there is a new movie that was just released, but I haven't heard anything about it here. It looks very interesting and I want to see if when I get back, but for now, here's the preview. It's called "No End in Sight" and is about the Bush Administration's mishandling of the Iraq War. I hate to be so cynical, but I think the war is going exactly the way they want it - destabilizing an entire region means big bucks for arms manufacturers, and that is the only thing that is keeping our economy going at this point, since everything else has been outsourced.

Ok, here't the clip.

What color is your phlegm?

I know that phlegm is a disgusting subject for some people, but in Chinese medicine, it is very important. My acupuncturist got me in the habit of checking the color of my phlegm. Yesterday it was brownish yellow, which I didn't think was good. It should be clear. So, I decided to pop open the Z-pack.

The Z-pack is the latest medical innovation. My doctor prescribed it before I left in case I came down with anything. It's a 5-day course of antibiotics. The first day you take 2 pills and then every day after that you take one. I decided to take it because of the color of my phlegm and also because Anna wrote to me that she had been sick (she came down with the same thing that Larry and I have) and she took the z-pack and feels better. After hitting the ants with a shock and awe campaign, I decided it was time to do the same with these germs. Hopefully, they are the type that will respond to antibiotics. I did feel better yesterday so I think they are working.

The ants are gone. Last night I saw one lonely ant wandering around looking lost. It reminded me of that Twilight Zone episode where the guy is the only one who survives the nuclear bomb attack (I think it was Burgess Merideth). From now on, I am definitely using cinnamon.

I went out for a walk yesterday and it was a very nice day. The polar freeze seems to have eased up and even though you could still see your breath, it was not as cold as it has been. I found a pair of shoes that I ended up buying and really like. They are Italian sneaker-type shoes made of leather. I liked this little shoe store and the clerk complimented me on my Spanish! I think I'm going to have to go back there and get some more shoes. I was comparing the prices to those on Florida Street and they are a lot cheaper. They are having a liquidation sale and it's an outlet! You'd think the shoes would be free, but they aren't. Still, the prices are decent.

After lunch, I walked down to Florida Street and it was a busy Saturday full of people shopping, tango dancers, street performers, etc. It was fun. I enjoyed walking around and taking pictures. I'm beginning to appreciate the very touristy areas of Buenos Aires as well. There is something fun about them, even though they aren't "Argentina", they are, because it is like Argentina for sale - all of the gaucho gear, the tango performances (for money), street performers, etc. I guess I can understand now why tourists like to go to Fisherman's Wharf, even though I hate it. It's like this living museum of what you think the culture is, but in fact, it's all show. Fisherman's Wharf is not San Francisco (the way I live), Florida Street is not Buenos Aires (the way portenos live), and yet, it is.

The funniest thing I found was one of these human statues. They sit (or stand) there and look like statues until you give them money and then they come to life. There was one who looked like an angel and there was this big crowd standing in front of him. I decided I wanted a picture of him, but couldn't figure out what the crowd was. It turned out it was a huge family that was standing there and one by one, they would go up and give him money and then get their picture taken with him. I got a picture of grandma's turn. It's very cute. It's on my photo blog. I wonder if they thought he was a real angel!

Basically it was a lazy Saturday. I walked around a bit and took some photos. I took the opportunity to explore some of the streets near my apartment that are normally choked with traffic during the week. It's so nice walking around on the weekend. I came home, had a very nice nap, watched a little TV and then went out to get something for dinner, until finally coming back and settling in for the evening.

The cold seems to be getting better, the weather is warming up and the ants are gone as I head into this final stretch, which is going to fly by very quickly.

Today we are going to the Feria de Mataderos, which is a weekly fair in a town called Mataderos, which used to be where they slaughtered animals (I don't know where the slaughtering is done now). There are supposed to be lots of gauchos, people on horses, and traditional Argentine food and crafts. It will be fun because this is a school organized trip and we'll have our guides. Also, Claudia is coming. Look at you!

How not to get rid of ants

Hernan came over last night to escape his cousin for a while. Turns out she is visiting with her 16 year-old daughter, but mom is a bit irresponsible and has been leaving Hernan to watch after the daughter. He said his place is a disaster with hairbrushes in the kitchen, underwear lying around, because the cousin from Corrientes has three women working in her house to clean up after her and apparently doesn't know how to do it herself. She sounds like a trip and I wish I'd met her. Unfortunately (fortunately for Hernan), she is leaving today.

When Hernan got here I showed him the ants. He told me I needed ant spray. I told him I didn't want to kill them, and showed him the black pepper, which really had worked to thin out the stream, and the orange peel, which seemed to be diverting them. He scoffed and said we had to go to the supermarket and buy something.

We were watching Zoolander on VH1, but as soon as it was over, we went next door to the mini supermarket only to find they didn't have ant spray. They had sprays for fleas, flies and other insects, but not ants. We bought a bottle of wine and I got some cinnamon for the ants, and were returning back to my place when Hernan asked me if there was another supermarket nearby. I told him there was a chino, and he was sure the chino would have ant spray, so we headed in that direction, only to find that the chino was already closed.

Since neither one of us had eaten, we stopped at a neighborhood restaurant and had dinner. I had trout with mashed potatoes and Hernan had black sorrentinos (they are kind of like round raviolis) stuffed with salmon with a mushroom cream sauce. He liked his pasta a lot. My fish was good, but my mashed potatoes were very runny. The restaurant is a cute little neighborhood joint. I went there with Saul last week. Hernan told the waiter the potatoes were runny and he didn't seem to care. I thought maybe we were going to get a free desert. It occurred to me this morning that I just should have told him I wanted something else. They were like potato soup and had no flavor at all.

After dinner, Hernan said he was going to buy me ice cream and said we could have it delivered. As we walked in the entrance to my building the evening security guard was at his post playing solitaire on his laptop. Unexpectedly, Hernan went up to him and said, "excuse me, we have an emergency". I thought he was going to tell him we were looking for Freddo and was wondering if he had the number. Instead, he told him about the ant invasion. There was a sign in the elevator that the exterminator is coming on Tuesday morning at 8:45, but Hernan told the security guard that if we waited until Tuesday, it would be a disaster (disaster is one of his more commonly used words).

The security guard was very nice and said that the exterminator had left him some stuff. He went into the garage and disappeared into the basement where the other security guard went to find a spare set of keys to my apartment. Eventually he came back with two plastic bottles filled with some liquid.

I had no idea what this stuff was and didn't want to be involved in this massacre, so I sat and watched Graham Norton, this funny gay British guy who has a travel show on VH1. He was at Dollywood and Dolly herself was giving him a tour.

I could hear Hernan in the bathroom knocking around and when he came out, he said it was a disaster but it was ok. He said I needed to wash the shower before I took a shower. The smell was horrible. It was like I was living in a toxic chemical plant. Even though the windows were open, we could still smell whatever was in those plastic bottles. I was afraid it would kill more than the ants.

Hernan didn't know who Dolly Parton was and he liked her - how could you not? The show was hysterical, but it was also really fun to be at Dollywood. I think it would be a fun trip. It's amazing how undeveloped parts of the US are, and Dollywood really celebrates where Dolly came from and also helps to infuse money into the local economy. People have jobs there because of her.

Fortunately, Hernan didn't spend the night. He had to go home and stay with his cousin's daughter who had been abandoned in his apartment. As soon as he left, I went into the bathroom where the walls were smeared with this foul liquid. Ant carcasses lay all over the sink. It truly was a disaster, and seemed very toxic to me.

I went ahead and washed as much of it away as I could and sprinkled some cinnamon in the spots where the ants seemed to be coming from. I closed my bedroom door to keep the fumes out and opened the windows as wide as I could to air the place out.

I went on You Tube and found some great videos of Dolly and sent one to Hernan. I also found the original Weathergirls video of "It's Raining Men". You Tube is really amazing. I'm only just beginning to appreciate it. As I went through and watched a whole bunch of videos of different performers, I came across one of Jennifer Holiday in Dreamgirls. I had heard her sing and saw Dreamgirls performed live (with a different actor), but had no idea how amazing she was in that part. I'm including the video here because it helped me to find an escape from the horror of the ant massacre.



The bathroom still smells of toxic fumes and there are still ant carcasses on the sink, but it is a lot better than it was last night. I can imagine those little ants singing "I am telling you, I ain't going", but we all know, Effie left and the ants are doomed to be evicted.

The New Student

Today I went to Punta Cuore for lunch. I keep getting the same waiter, who is not the one who was friendly the first time I went there, but another guy who has this sexy, raspy voice and was very cool to me at first, but has warmed up considerably. I have been doing my homework a lot there and he always comments on it.

Anyway, today I ordered the "menu ejucativo" - the executive menu. I felt like I deserved to treat myself after the ant invasion and the relapse of this damn cold. For seven dollars, I got a drink - wine, water or soda, a starter a main dish and coffee or tea. I had water without gas, a vegetable stir fry and what I thought was a shrimp salad.

The water was good.

The stir fry was not what I was hoping for - fresh crispy vegetables lightly stir fried with garlic and sesame seeds or something like that - it was a plate of very wilted looking vegetables in too much soy sauce. The vegetables were kind of shredded. It was a very sad plate.

The salad was some sort of fried seafood, I think it was octopus on a bed of rice with corn sprinkled over it, balls of mozzarella cheese and slices of some kind of cheese that were rolled up and had some corn sprinkled inside the cheese rolls. It was the most bizarre salad I've ever had. I should have taken a picture.

I ate the vegetable stir fry and most of the salad, though I left the rice. I have to say, Mexican food wins over Argentine by a landslide. I know in Mexico the rice would have been better, the shrimp would have been shrimp and if all else fails, I could have drowned the whole thing in salsa.

But anyway, as I was sitting there on a side of the restaurant I don't usually sit, I looked out the window and saw this building across the street that I had seen on Buenos Aires Daily, the photo blog I like so much. On BAD, she says it was inspired by the Spanish architect/artist Gaudi. It is a very wild looking building and I was thinking that I might be afraid to actually live there because it's kind of scary looking. The funny thing was that I've walked down this street so many times and never noticed that this building was right there. It's one of the things I am just loving about this trip. There is so much to see and if I had only come for a week or two, I would have missed so much. Even after 6 weeks, I can still look up and see something I've never seen before.

We got a new student in our class. His name is Daniel. He was moved up from the level 6 class because he already knew the grammar. He came yesterday and found out the class was going to a tango concert, to which he replied, "sweet!". Since I didn't go to the concert, I didn't really get to know him, even though I'd seen him around on the field trips.

Anyway, today we had class with Claudia, who I am just adoring. Her class isn't a whole lot more innovative than the other teachers' but she says things that I just love, like, "look at you", or "look at what an interesting question you asked", she is very Buenos Aires, and she cracks me up. She often has to ask me what's funny because I smile a lot in her class.

Well, anyway, today it was me and Nancy and then Daniel showed up. He's one of the kids and is here with the same ripoff program I signed up with. He's staying in the "residence", which I am so glad I'm not in - Nancy, unfortunately went with that deal and she hates it - it's like staying in a college dorm with college students! Nancy told me there is one girl in the residence who is 17 years old and started traveling on her own when she was 14! Nancy said you'd think she'd be mature but in fact she isn't. Her parents must be nuts sending her off like that.

Well, anyway, back to Daniel. He's young and cute and young, and he likes to talk even though he doesn't know what he's saying he just talks for the sake of talking. I didn't mind a whole lot but I noticed that my style of holding back and being aware of how much I talk in comparison to everyone else was completely overwhelmed by his style of "I have to talk!!!!!!" Claudia did a great job of making him give the rest of us an opportunity. I noticed it especially when we listened to a tango and were discussing the lyrics. Daniel kept talking and then Claudia would stop him and say, "let the others have a chance", or "I want to hear what the two of you think about what he's saying". At one point, she specifically called on me to comment on what Daniel had said.

The funny thing is that I had no idea what he was talking about. I don't know if it was because he wasn't making any sense, or for some other reason, I just wasn't able to follow the discussion. I thought about how some of my students must feel when one student is talking to me and they don't understand what is being said. I've experienced this phenom a lot in classes here, and it's really good for me to notice it.

We had these kind of mindless fill in the blank exercises for homework that was due today. I was proud that I did it all, but Nancy didn't finish hers. Woops! The very first one was an article by some intellectual that Claudia said she had as a teacher for literary criticism or something like that. Apparently this woman had criticised the sport of soccer and got lots of letters. This article was her counter-attack. It was easy to fill in the missing prepositions, but it was more difficult to understand the article. What I liked about it was that she made reference to the dictatorship and that gave us an opportunity to talk about it more in class.

I don't know why I am so fascinated by this dictatorship - that and the peso crash of 2001, are both such recent history and yet there is this totally mysterious, almost mythical air surrounding both for me. I keep asking, "How could that happen?"

So, the interesting thing about the discussion today was that Claudia said a lot of people didn't know what was happening. A lot of it had to do with the fact that the media was not reporting what was happening and families who had people who were disappeared were not getting any information about the disappearances. If you heard that someone had disappeared, it was always shrouded in mysterious circumstances, such as there had been some sort of confrontation or the person was criminal or something like that.

The article made mention of this because in 1978 when Argentina won the World Cup, which was hosted here, the dictatorship and disappearances were in full motion and the world was aware of what was happening, yet they looked the other way and ignored it, hosting the World Cup here. I think that is when the Madres' bravery became so apparent, and in spite of threats from the government, they continued to march in the Plaza de Mayo and be interviewed by foreign journalists (but I have to research that, it is all speculation by me at this point).

Anyway, it was fun discussion and because Daniel was too young to know anything about any of this (I think he was born after the dictatorship had collapsed), he kept quiet.

After class, I walked over to Santa Fe. It was a little warmer today than the past week, and it was nice to walk again. When I walk, I get to continually look up and discover these magnificent old buildings. I really like walking after class because rush hour is just beginning and the sun is setting and there is this wonderful energy in the air as people are rushing to pick their kids up from school, go to the supermarket or go home.

I stopped at Volta and had a pot of tea and a little cake before walking down Santa Fe.

I keep looking for something to buy and even though I like the clothes in the windows and some of the shoes I've seen, I just have not been inspired by anything enough to whip out the plastic for it. I went into one store to look at shoes they had in the window. The sales people can be kind of aggressive sometimes, which can be kind of fun because I get to speak Spanish (I always tell my students to go shopping if they can't find anyone else to practice their English with), but in this particular store, they just ignored me. It was odd and I wondered if it was because this store was some fancy designer or something. But anyway, I went in, looked at the shoes and decided not to buy them and the only one who acknowledged me was the security guard.

I walked past a CD shop which is always playing great tango and decided to stop in and look. It's kind of a kiosk and is open to the street - they sell candy and stuff like that, but have CDs and DVDs lining one wall. I first looked at some Karaoke they had. I'm looking for some of the songs I like to sing in Spanish, but then I saw a Tango Instructional DVD. I had seen one in a CD shop on Florida Street and was planning on buying one. There is an all-tango TV station that I like to watch when it's on, and it really helps me to see steps explained and broken down. Well, as I was fishing in my bag for my glasses so I could read this DVD case, the sales clerk came up and asked me if I was looking for a good tango instructional DVD. I said I was and he took me to the back of the store and went behind the counter and showed me one. It was a two DVD set and sold for about 20 bucks. I know that the Metronome in San Francisco, where I take dance classes, has advertised a DVD set that is much more expensive. And hey, this is from the birthplace of tango (I think).

Then I saw that there was a Carlos Gardel CD on the counter and picked that up to look at it. The clerk showed me another one that he said was better. I am listening to it now. It's really great. It is definitely music from another time. Anyway, then he asked me if I liked Electronic Tango, and I said I did, and he showed me a 2 CD set. He put one of the discs on and it was really great. The set is an anthology of electronic tango and I thought would be a great way to listen and find some groups that I really like. But, I decided to be cautious and first go with the DVD and the Gardel CD. I probably will go back and get this electronic tango set.

The ant invasion continues but it has been reduced significantly. Nancy said orange oil works well. So I peeled an orange and tried to squeeze the oil out of the rind in strategic places where the ants seem to be coming in from. It's true, they don't like it and avoid it. They also don't like the black pepper. I'm glad, because I don't like flushing them down the shower drain.

Hernan is coming over later this evening. His cousin is visiting him from Corrientes, another province that is somewhere up North or West or Northwest. He thinks she is in town for plastic surgery and also has a boyfriend here. She sounds like a trip. He sent me a text that said, "my place is a disaster with these women", so I guess maybe there is more than one person staying with him. He then asked if he could come by around 10 p.m., which makes me think he wants to stay here to escape a little bit.

Well, folks, I think I have managed to include just about everything I've done today. I was trying to keep my blog entries focused on a specific subject and keep them short, but it's really hard to do that when every day is filled with so many normally mundane things that here take on a new life - eating lunch, buying tea, etc.

Stay tuned as the thrilling adventures continue. Tomorrow I'm going to the drugstore to buy Q-tips!