¡Felices Fiestas!

Here we are on Christmas day in Ushuaia - end of the earth - world's Southernmost city! As we were planning to wrap up our stay in Argentina, we decided that a trip to the north to see Iguazú Falls and then a trip down south to see penguins and glaciers was in order. The pictures will tell most of the story, but we don't have a way to post them yet. For now, we have borrowed some from the Internet.

Iguazu was truly amazing - the national park is very well organized with many well-marked trails leading you through the rainforest to stunning views of the falls. It was well into 90 degrees F while we were there, but it was shady on the trails and quite pleasant. Everyone says you should leave the giant fall called "garganta del diablo" (devil's throat) till the end. Against our urge to see it first, we did wait till the end and were stunned by being so close to a raging waterfall. It's hard to explain as the sounds, the cool spray on your skin, the smells, and power of nature combine to really move you to a feeling of pure awe and exhilaration. Wow! It was crazy. I tried to film it, but am sure I didn't capture even 10 %. As we looked down into the crashing water below, we saw a perfect rainbow. It was really something special. The jungle was also full of wildlife. We caught glimpses of coatimundi, birds, lizards, ñeques, and even 3 monkeys!

We flew back to BsAs for a one-day stay before heading to Ushuaia. Our descent into the capital was the most turbulent flight ever. Usually quite conservative, the Argentine passengers acted up as one guy started laughing wildly each time the plane dipped or jerked to the left or right. A woman in front of us shouted at him to be quiet. Others were barfing their guts out into air sickness bags . . . . the funny part was that I had headphones on, was blissfully medicated on Kwells for potential bouts with nausea, and was watching an early episode of Glee dubbed into Spanish. So, I didn't realize the chaos that was ensuing amongst passengers. True, I knew we were experiencing turbulence, and I did not like it at all. But, I figured that the best thing to do was to keep concentrating on my program and soon it would be over. After we stabilized, Joe told me what I'd missed. I only wish I could've heard how the woman cussed out the laughing guy in Spanish. I wondered what words she used.

After spending the night, we had a delightfully uneventful flight to Ushuaia. What a change from our tropical jungle days in Iguazu! It had recently snowed on the mountaintops making a postcard-worthy view of the town. It is very picturesque here . . . and incredibly windy. It is chilly - up to the high 40's F, so our coats, gloves, hats, and scarves are getting more use now than they ever did in BsAs. December 21 was the first day of summer, but you wouldn't know it down here. We are at the launch point for cruises to Antarctica - nothing but ice south of here! Our first day was windy - but we bundled up and did a 5 mile hike in Tierra del Fuego National Park. It was lovely and not too unbearably cold as the forest offered some protection. We saw beautiful views both in Argentina, and across the water to Chile.

The second day, we took a tour by mini-bus and boat to see a colony of penguins that has been established since the 1970s. All my expectations were fulfilled! Much like the overwhelming feeling to almost cry that I felt when experiencing La Garganta del Diablo, I was awestruck. The penguins were everywhere just acting naturally. This tour company has an agreement to take tourists to the island under strict conditions. We were all told not to touch, feed, be noisy, smoke, or make jerky movements. We pretty much stuck to a path from where we could observe the birds, but occasionally we'd look down to see a curious fellow at the very edge or the path cocking his head to look at us. It is nesting season, so there were chicks in the nests with their moms . . . nests being holes that have been dug in the ground. Seeing the penguins in their natural habitat without disrupting their daily routines was a unique thing to see . . . and at such close range . . . even more special.

We will be here two more days, and then on to Perito Moreno, the glacier near Calafate. We will spend New Year's there. We are truly enjoying the variety of topography and climate that Argentina has to offer.

Re-lindo

OK, first of all I know it's been a while since our last post. Life gets in the way of the blog sometimes . . . it's a vicious cycle, you know? Anyhow, for a while now I've been thinking about blogging about Spanish language learning here in Argentina. What better way to do it than to enroll in a class myself?

My fellow foreigners standing in line for testing

8 weeks ago I decided to register for a Spanish class for foreigners that I'd been hearing about from some of my teacher friends. I have to tell you that it is really very interesting to be "on the other side", i.e. show up for the cattle call to be tested (this was pretty much a free class offered to the community; you are requested to make a donation for registration and required to buy your book), return to the office to find out your level, find out if there is a space for you, and learn what time the course is offered. I didn't expect to enjoy the course so much, but I was thrilled to be a "student." Thank goodness (for the sake of my ego), I had placed into Nivel Avanzado (Advanced Level). I feared having too many gringos in my class (didn't want to speak a word of English), but was pleased to find that my class was made up of 5 ladies from Brazil, Czech Republic, and Ukraine! The most interesting thing about this course was that is was, of course, in Argentina with all the related Argentine-specific expressions and jargon. Re-lindo (pronounced RAY LEEN-DO), for example, means Muy Lindo (Very lovely). In other words, Argentines are very fond of leaving the word "muy" behind in favor of adding the pre-fix "re". We not only often hear re-lindo, but re-triste, re-interesante, re-lleno (to mean very full after a good meal), and re-dulce (to describe those strawberries that are in season). Not to mention the fillers such as: Que se yo? , Dale!, Viste?, and Mira vos!

My classroom was the one with the gold bricks

All that being said, it was "re-interesante" to be exposed to topics in the text materials that really almost shocked me. I guess I am a really victim of a "politically correct" nation as I had never in a million years expected that we'd cover topics such as Victoria Beckham's new diamond-encrusted birthday present (which was a vibrator), a ghost story in which a dog is hanged in the end, a criminal case in which the murdered woman's son is suspected of killing her, a cartoon which shows a husband finding his wife in bed with another, and a discussion of a painting which depicts the Last Supper as an Argentine asado (barbecue). In another book, a famous Argentine 'teach Spanish to foreigners' text, a dialog depicts a man who intentionally makes his wife mad because she 'looks sexy when she's angry'. There is another reading that describes what men and women do in their free time: men talk about football and watch women, and women complain about people at work and discuss shopping.

The upshot is that all these topics are provocative and encourage you to pay attention, understand the vocabulary, and have an opinion. All good ingredients for language learning. I guess in the end I have more respect for topics that I would never imagine seeing in a textbook . . . I never knew I was so "protected" in that way . . . Overall, I really enjoyed the classes and feel that they really gave me an insight into the culture in many ways. I made some new friends, got the chance to feel like a student, passed the oral and written exams, and will receive a certificate showing my level as "Post-Avanzado". Re-lindo, ¿no?

Southern Starr

One of the striking things about Buenos Aires is that people are crazy about music here. Especially rock music. Especially old rock music. There are many, many Argentine rock bands with large rabid followings, but bands from the English-speaking world, ones of a certain vintage, are just unbelievably popular. I always joke that washed-up bands should never break up - they should just tour Argentina incessantly. Any Sixties or Seventies band with a "name" will sell beaucoup tickets here. A mutated Creedence Clearwater - unbelievably, sans John Fogerty - draws thousands. A group of geezers that couldn't draw flies in L.A. or N. Y. is a stadium act here. There is a steady stream of unlikely acts coming through town selling tens of thousands of tickets. Foghat, anyone? Where do the locals get the dinero? No se.

Worship of "classic rock" music is a major feature of the culture here, but one group stands supreme in the Argentine heart and soul: the Fab Four, of course, The Beatles. There is a Beatles museum that draws thousands of fans, Beatles grafitti everywhere, Beatles T-shirts worn by teenagers and middle-aged men alike, Beatle tribute bands (we saw "The Beetles" on TV last night). Sir Paul McCartney drew like 80,000 to his concert this year. I met a 20 year-old kid with a George Harrison tattoo. You have to spend some time here to really understand the depth of the Beatle-love flowing through the streets of Buenos Aires.

Which brings me to my tale. Jen and I decided to take a jaunt to a swank shopping mall a short bus ride away in the Retiro neighborhood to have a coffee and look around a bit. While strolling aimlessly, doing the odd bit of window shopping, I found myself looking out the window of one of the mall entrances. A guy dressed in black with a hat and shades, accompanied by a classy-looking blonde lady, was crossing the street to the mall. I watched him gesture to a photographer on the sidewalk - no pictures, please. "That guy looks like Ringo", I said to myself. They walked in the door, trailed by a stocky, grim-faced fellow with white hair. As they walked right past us, I whispered to Jen, unbelievingly, "Is that Ringo?" It plainly was Ringo Starr (nee Richard Starkey), one of the world's two remaining Beatles.

Should I try to shake his hand? Should I try to say something? Something that might mean something to me but very little to him? I should say now that I love the Beatles with a deep and abiding passion that dates back to 1964 when I first saw them on the Ed Sullivan show. I also have tremendous respect for Ringo as a musician, and Jen and I have gone to see him and his band twice in the last several years - enjoying great shows both times. After half a moment's reflection, I realized I wasn't going to say anything. He and his wife, actress Barbara Bach, were just trying to be cool and do a little window shopping in Buenos Aires. I reflected on what it must be like to be a freakin' Beatle, and how peace and quiet and privacy in public are all but impossible. I also thought: "Does he have any idea how much people love him here?"

Jen and I casually strolled behind Ringo and his wife (and bodyguard) for a few minutes. Hey, we were window shopping too! Anyway, they briefly checked out a luggage store (what in God's name does Ringo need that he doesn't already have?), and just cruised around unnoticed. After a few minutes, however, his cover was blown. Two teenage girls - yes, two 16-year old teenyboppers recognized 71 year-old rocker Ringo Starr and boldly asked for a picture. How cool is that? Where else in the world would teen girls, normally enthralled by Gaga and Bieber, face-check an ancient rocker? Only in Buenos Aires! Ringo was good sport, and his wife seemed to enjoy being pressed into duty taking the photo when the bodyguard couldn't work the phone-camera.

That's when the wheels came off. As Ringo posed with the two girls, his cover got blown big-time. As Jen and I watched, a big, burly dude, overcome with Beatle-love, approached Ringo, grabbed him in a bear-hug and tried to kiss him (you knew that was coming)! Ringo twisted out of his grasp, avoiding the man-smooch, and the bodyguard gave the big guy a firm shove. Poor Ringo. Sadly, we could watch no more. I guess he had had five or ten minutes of being a normal guy, window shopping with his wife. I don't think he had any idea how much the people of Buenos Aires LOVE him, but he's going to find out. [Note: Ringo Starr and his All-Starr Band play a sold out show Monday night in Buenos Aires. It's Ringo's first trip to South America.]

A Pinch of Salta, a Taste of Jujuy

Llama sighting in Jujuy

From the hot and gritty city of San Miguel de Tucuman, we took the four-hour bus ride north to the city of Salta. The difference between the two regional capitals was immediately apparent: where Tucuman is loud, brash and modernish (in a distinctly funky way), Salta is more sedate, a charming, low-rise colonial town with colorful attractive architecture. Our headquarters was a quaint B&B called Bloomers (I wish my mom was around to have a laugh at that one!) - several nice rooms set around a lovely courtyard hidden behind a lavender streetfront. We were just a short stroll from Salta's plaza and famous churches: the "pink one" and the "red one".

Jen had a presentation scheduled the evening we arrived, after which she taped a TV interview with a local journalist. Her skill in handling this impromptu interview in Spanish was awesome. I knew she was good, but not that good! They're supposed to send us the DVD someday. Anyway, afterwards we went out to dinner with some nice folks, including a gal from New York City who has been living in Salta since 1962. Her husband and children are Argentine, but she sounds like she's straight off the streets of the Big Apple. Needless to say, she had some good stories to tell!

Street art in Salta

For the next three days, we were simple tourists. We windowshopped around the plaza, ate lunch in dive restaurants , hunted down artisan markets, took a cable car ride to the top of the mountain, had dinner in an old mansion where folclorico singers sit at tables belting out tunes, and went to museums. The centerpiece of Salta tourism is the new museum built to store and display the remains of three mummified children who were extracted from a ritual gravesite in the nearby Andes at 22,000 feet. A boy and a girl of about six or seven, along with a teenage girl, were buried alive in a religious ceremony carried out by Inca priests some 600 years ago. The unique conditions on top of the mountain preserved the mummies almost perfectly. Only one mummy is displayed at a time, so we got to see the teenager, sitting in her glass case, preserved under low lights and freezing temperatures. It was really spooky to see her and imagine she was just sleeping (for 600 years). A soundtrack of mournful Andean pan-pipes played incessantly throughout our visit, leading to associations (panpipes = buried alive) I'll never be able to shake.

From Salta, it was back on the bus up to Jujuy (hoo-HOOEY) province, which looks startlingly like New Mexico and Arizona in parts. Jen first had a presentation to give in the small, hot and sleepy town of San Pedro; from there we were free to be tourists for the rest of the trip. We went up into the mountains, following the famous Quebrada de Humahuaca, to the town of Tilcara where we chilled for a couple of days. Tilcara is a scenic and dusty riverside village made mostly of adobe brick. It's somewhat of a hipster hangout nowadays, although most locals carry on their business as usual. The local cactus, the cardones, are almost identical to the saguaro of the Sonoran Desert in Arizona, and the hills in the Quebrada seem lifted straight out of Northern New Mexico, especially the Cerro de Siete Colores in the village of Purmamarca. We took a ton of photos, ate a lot of empanadas (and dust), and generally had a great time soaking up the atmosphere and scenery. As much as we enjoy Buenos Aires, it was fantastic to get out of the big city and enjoy some of the best that provincial Argentina has to offer.

Panchos and Ponchos

Two recent grads

We have been traveling a lot lately . . . In the past two weeks I have given 9 presentations, and this weekend we are headed for Cordoba for the last roundup of intra-Argentina travel. Luckily, we were able to squeeze in a couple personal days while we were in the Northwest. Our trip there started in Tucuman, moved to Salta, on to Jujuy, and back to Salta where we caught our flight back to BsAs.

Soon we will post about our impressions of Salta and Jujuy, but for now I'll tell you a bit about Tucuman. First of all, it is not a tourist destination . . . the city is bustling and loud! It was student week while we were there . . . and graduates were celebrating from the backs of honking trucks and hatchback cars. No one can go very fast as there is quite a lot of traffic . . . I don't know why as it feels like a small city. But the streets are very congested. People don't seem to mind waiting; they stay friendly and enjoy honking . . . which calls the local strays from their siesta stupor. When the traffic lights change and the vehicles zip to the next stoplight (especially the ones with students playing loud thumping music) , the dogs run disturbingly close to the wheels, chasing the cars as far as they can, barking and yelping wildly!

Interview at the Ministry

The city plaza was quite busy as well. Tucuman and the northern area is home to Musia Folclorica which is famous throughout Argentina. Mercedes Sosa, in fact, was born in Tucuman (Phyllis, the picture of me with Mercedes in the photo album is for you!). In the evening, we were able to watch an outdoor variety show put on by local students. They were quite talented . . . I should have taken a video. I guess the photos will have to do.

The work part of the trip went well - big enthusiastic audiences. Believe it or not a meeting with the Minister of Education was arranged at the Government Building, I met the Governor of Tucuman, and I had my first ever "live" television interview . . . in Spanish! I felt like I was in some kind of Spanish class role play . . . "OK, you pretend that you are being inteviewed on TV and this guy will act as the TV reporter . . . " It was actually kind of fun!

Pancheria - site of the hot dog with lots of condiments

The food was great in Tucuman: we had the most flavorful locro (stew) we have eaten so far. We also noticed that people overall were quite a bit heavier then in BsAs. A friend told us that it was due to the fact that the cost of meat had gone up, and that the typical diet was becoming more dependent on cheaper foods (carbs). It made sense. As for fruit . . . it was strawberry season! I have never seen such piles of giant ripe red strawberries . . . and so cheap - 6.5 pounds for around $2.50 USD!! Those photos (in our album) are for my Mom!! Tucuman also grows lemons, oranges, and sugar cane. Lastly, we saw the most elaborate Pancho cafes we have ever seen. What is a Pancho or a Super Pancho? Well... that's what they call hot dogs here. Ahhhh, but these are not ordinary hot dogs as you can put as many topppings as will fit in the bun. Young and old take part in trying to fit in as much as they can . . . see the video in our photo album for the reason why we decided not to try the pancho!

However, I did buy a poncho. But that's something you wear made from llama wool. Speaking of crafts, our next destination was the land of indigenous crafts, pan flutes, and mummies . . . more to come!

Gimme my Mate!

Yerba mate and hot water
in a mate with a bombilla
(picture from wikipedia)

So we've been to the land of beer, Santa Fe (NE), and more recently I did a whirlwind trip to San Juan (NW), which is known as the land of wine . . . but all over Argentina and even Uruguay is the land of Mate (pronounced MAH-tay)!! I have never seen a culture so addicted to? obsessed with? tea - it's incredible! No, we're not even talking "coca tea" or anything like that . . . mate is like a normal crushed tea leaf tea called 'yerba mate'. So, I can't figure out if the obsession is with the tea itself or the elaborate ritual of drinking it that involves a goard like receptacle, called a mate, a nickel-silver straw with a spoon-like strainer at the end, called a bombilla, a thermos full of hot water, and, of course, the mate leaves themselves. Oh, and I almost forgot that it is an incredibly social procedure which involves passing the mate around so that everyone can have a sip . . . yes drinking from the same straw. I kind of relate it to the kissing . . . an affectionate-physical-social-sharing kind of thing.

OK, about this process . . . I had a fantastic Spanish tutor for a few weeks named Veronica. Each time she came to the apartment for my lesson she would bring an interesting exercise for me to do. The first day, we started with a political cartoon. Then, she moved on to teach me how to write excuses via email, she taught me about "la fiaca" which I'll get into in another posting, and then we embarked on an ordering activity in which I was to read the steps of how to make mate and put them in order. Wow, I had  never considered that there were certain "steps" to drinking mate. No doubt I had seen mate drinkers passing the gourd at break time on the stoops of building entrances, in parks reading books and watching concerts, in guard stations monitoring surveillance cameras, in the audience of my workshops, in airports at the baggage claim, and Veronica told me she once saw a man riding a bicycle simultaneously sipping, steering, and holding the thermos under his arm. Even street people invest in modern thermoses to keep their water nice and hot. Where they get the hot water I'm not sure.

For you Spanish speakers, here's the activity Vero (Veronica) gave me:
Instrucciones para preparar mate
Ordená esta instrucciones:
a. agregar azúcar, cáscaras de limón o naranja u otras yerbas aromáticas
b. llenar 3/4 del mate con yerba
c. clalentar el agua peron no dejes que hierva
d. pensar "¡qué rico!/qué horrible!" y seguir tomando/no tomar nunca más en la vida
e. poner la bombilla
f. poner la pava* con agua en el fuego
g. tapar el mate con la mano y sacurdirlo para sacarle el polvo a la yerba
h. tirar el agua caliente cerca de la bombilla
i. tomar el mate hasta escuchar un ruiditio

1__   2__  3__  4__  5__  6__  7__  8__  9__

Suerte! Answers will be supplied soon!  Lastly, Vero also gave me a link to a video of a woman explaining specifically how she likes to prepare and drink mate. Such a ritual . . . Disfrutálo!

EL DISFRUTE - Consejos como preparar un buen mate por Karla Johan Lorenzo

De Santa Fe a Santa Fe

We recently returned from a trip to the other Santa Fe - Santa Fe, Argentina in the province of the same name, roughly 300 miles north of Buenos Aires. Jen was scheduled to present a couple of workshops at the teacher training college on Wednesday and Thursday nights, so we took the early bus on Wednesday morning. It wasn't bad - 6 1/2 hours across the pampas in a comfortable seat, some snacks, a John D. MacDonald Travis McGee novel...before we knew it, we were there to be picked up at the station by Claudio and Julieta.

Our new friends had arranged a tour for us of Santa Fe, a city of 450,000, and after a quick lunch, we met up with the Spanish-speaking tour guide from the city, with whom we toured various plazas, churches, and museums. It was pretty interesting (especially the church where a priest had been killed by a jaguar driven inside by flood), but we were tired and Jen had to give a performance at 8:00. We eventually made it back to the Holiday Inn for a rest.

Jen's presentation on "Multiple Intelligences in the Classroom" went well despite the power outage halfway through that plunged the room into darkness. Jen, sans Powerpoint, just kept talking as if nothing had happened. She's a trooper, that girl. Eventually the lights came back on, and afterward several of us headed down to a local restaurant for dinner. Seeing Jen work a crowd for ninety minutes had made me thirsty, and I spotted something on the beer menu called a satelite. Turned out to be a very tall glass of ice cold Santa Fe beer, the pride and joy of the city. I gladly had a couple.

Which brings us to the following day, where we had scheduled a tour of the cerveceria, or brewery, which is more or less Santa Fe's claim to fame. I vaguely remember going on the Coors Brewery tour many years ago in Colorado, but this personalized tour for just the four of us (me, Jen, Julieta, and Boris, an American kid Jen knew) was great. It was all in Spanish, and took us through the whole brewing process. The brewery is massive, the biggest in Argentina, and they brew several different varieties there, including Budweiser and Heineken (yeah, I know). At the end, we bought some cute beer glasses and got some free tickets for beers across the street at the company restaurant.

That night, Jen did another presentation (on "Writing a Statement of Purpose"), this time for a crowd of 170 teachers, students and translators. This workshop involved passing out smooth rocks to each participant and having them find ways to describe their individual rock. Their rocks were then confiscated, only to be re-united with their owners at the end of the presentation. I guess you had to have been there, but it was fun and some of those kids will probably keep "their rock" forever!

We were up and gone the next morning, back on the bus for six hours and back to the bosom of Buenos Aires. Santa Fe is a nice, quiet little city on the Parana River - a lot quieter than BA, and a lot cheaper, too. We met some nice folks there, and I wouldn't mind going back sometime -maybe in the summer when a few satelites of icy Santa Fe beer would taste oh -so- good!

I Came, I Saw, I Kissed a Lot of Dudes

Needless to say, the US does not have a kissing culture. You know, the old-country kind of thing where folks kiss each other on the cheek upon greeting and again upon leave-taking. When I was growing up, such behavior was only seen in movies and usually had something to do with France. At some point in the 70's, the affectation known as the "air-kiss" found it's way from NY to Hollywood and eventually became the rage among scattered pockets of pretentious Americans. In my family, however, nobody kissed anybody. I'm not saying my family was typical, necessarily (heaven-forbid), but Americans traditionally are big on maintaining personal space. In addition, traditional male Americans are big on preserving a masculine image at all costs. A firm handshake, look you in the eye, and, "big boys don't cry". Man-on-man cheek kissing? Oh, hell no!

Europeans are, of course, different, especially those south of the British Isles. Cheek-kissing is de riguer in most cultures, and in some countries is extensive and quite ritualistic. When we were in Georgia, we were amazed to see the elaborate "three-cheek kiss" performed by seemingly all the men who would meet each other in the street. If you run into someone you know, the kissing is on, baby. The key though, is that you have to actually know the person before kissing them. After a few conversations, dinner, and several drinks, our friend Vano kissed me enthusiastically and proclaimed me, "the greatest American". [Glad you noticed, bro!] He should really shave more often.

Which brings us to the kissingest people on earth: the Argentines. All Argentines, men and women, boys and girls, kiss each other once on the right cheek upon meeting and again on saying good-bye ("chao, hasta luego"). It's really kind of nice, but the important difference here is that people enthusiastically kiss total strangers. OK, we know there's nothing inherently wrong with two men kissing, for example...but kissing somebody you've never laid eyes on and haven't even been introduced to is, well...it's a sort of kissing mania. At our first Argentine dinner-party, we arrived a little early and were hanging out in the front room as everyone else arrived. As couples came through the door, they greeted the hostess and then made a beeline for me - the next nearest person - to kiss me. "Hi, I'm Joe" came sometime after the smooching. As it was a large party, I must have kissed twenty complete strangers (half of them guys) in a matter of minutes.

Everybody wants to kiss you. The waiter at the Peruvian restaurant wants to kiss us. The guy at the art supply store. Random people lean in for some kissing at the drop of a hat. If you stick your hand out for a shake, you will get surprised (and slightly hurt) looks. In private conversations with some locals, I've heard the opinion that "perhaps we Argentines kiss too much". Of course, during cold and flu season my own thoughts turn to germs. The CDC in Atlanta would not approve of all this kissing, would they? Someone said that they don't like kissing in the summer because people are too sweaty. Great. Whiskers AND sweat. MMWWAAAHH! I can't wait...

Brazil and Back

I'll say a few words about Curitiba, Brazil. And, I really mean a few because I only spent 3 1/2 days at a conference there. I attended and presented at the Southern Cone TESOL Conference combined with the mid-year fellow conference. I didn't get to see much of the city due to the fact that my plane was delayed for a day, I was battling a chest cold, we stayed in the hotel and conference venue most of the daylight hours, and it was cloudy/rainy for two out of the four days. However, I will say a bit about my impressions.

Friendly meat cutters

Brazil has more salad for one thing. It seems to be very popular to get food salad-bar style and then pay by the kilo. Nice! Not to be alarmed though - Brazil has its meat too. I just don't think it's as obsessed with it as Argentina! Also, the people are louder. I almost felt like I was back in the States a couple of times. Loud voices, loud laughing, and screaming kids. It made me realize how quiet and composed Argentines are in comparison.  It was amazing how little Portuguese I could speak, as in none, and that I could actually understand some bits and pieces. The hotel staff spoke not a word of English, so I spoke to them in Spanish, and they answered in Portuguese. Yes, there was a lot of pointing and writing going on, but we managed to get the dates, breakfast time, and the rates straight on the room.

The Tube

A group of us went to a couple of nice restaurants, and one of the fellows, Anna, encouraged me to walk the city the last night. It was great as I was able to catch a few shots of the city which has, in fact, won city planning awards and is famous for their transporation system - check out the "tubes" designed for those waiting for the "tube" which is the name of the city bus. Speaking of transportation, the 40 minute ride to the airport only costs $8. Cheap in comparison to the prices of everything else - much higher than Argentina. The pedestrian walk near our hotel was charming with mosaic sidewalks and well-manicured parks.

I met a lot of nice people, especially the other fellows from my program and grantees based in Chile, Uruguay, Paraguay, and Brazil. I learned a lot about the kinds of technology folks are using in opposite ends of the country to collaborate on projects. In fact technology was also the popular theme at the local conference I attended here in BsAs Thursday and Friday. Another popular topic was "vulgar English", but I won't get into that.

Building near our hotel

Now, back in BsAs, my last piece of news is that we ate a paella feast last night at a colleague's flat. Joe played guitar and young and old sang numbers from Mama Mia to Bad Moon Rising. It was mostly a request night, but he managed to squeeze a few originals in. It's hard to believe that Glee is so BIG here; getting our hosts' daughters to choose from the soundtrack proved the perfect way to keep all generations happy with the song choices. If you had told us we were going to stay up till 3:35am singing songs, drinking wine, and speaking a creative mix of Spanish and English, we never would have believed it! Are we becoming Porteños?

Architecture

Teo

Buenos Aires is known for its architecture . . . or it must be. How else would my friend, Natalia, in Ukraine know about the Casa Rosada? Anyhow, the same was said by Teo. He also mentioned that Buenos Aires was a mix of Jewish, Italian, and Spanish culture. I can attest to that (in fact, we live in an Orthodox Jewish neighborhood where people, of course, speak Spanish and pride themselves on homemade ravioli). Back to Teo . . .  well, he's not the poodle that lives down the hall from us, but a chap by the same name who was our tour guide last Saturday afternoon.

Yes, we broke down and decided to something touristy. It was actually kind of fun. There is a company (three guys who like to party, I imagine) who have advertised themselves online as giving "free" tours. They meet interested travelers at a designated meeting spot in the center of town and lead them through the city for about 2 1/2 hours, then you tip what you think you can afford. We ended up tipping around 12 bucks - I know, I'm generous. But it was somewhat entertaining.

Before the tour started, Joe and roamed around buying media lunas (kind of like croissants and integral to Porteño society), and watching parades. We hadn't realized it but it was Independence Day - Nueve de Julio - July 9.  So we enjoyed snapping some pictures of the gaucho-clad young men and other revelers - it was only 11 in the morning!

Avenide 9 de Julio

Teo arrived 25 minutes late looking like he just rolled out of bed. He apologized but also said he had been late for his last tour as well. We thought it was part of the shtick of acting the proverbial role of the Argentine who is never on time. Somewhat charming, I guess. He had great conversational English and imparted his uncensored opinion at each viewing point. This was a tour of the architecture of central Buenos Aires. I know if I hadn't taken the tour, I would never have stopped to look up and absorb the truly beautiful details of the buildings. It was really a good thing to do now that we've been here 5 months!

We started at the "Congreso" where the congress "works" - Teo had that 'two hooked fingers on both hands' gesture down pat . . . wink wink! The next building was "Confiteria del Molino" an old building with a windmill motif - in need of repair - apparently the city is forbidden from tearing it down because there is an ordinance protecting the homeless that are living there. It makes you wonder if it could be renovate it to make proper public housing as it is a beautiful building. We made our way down Avenida de Mayo with it's residence-turned-office buildings with one that is the original version of the building replicated in our Montevideo post. We made a stop at the Plaza de Mayo where the mothers and grandmothers still march in memory of "the disappeared" taken from them during the military dictatorship in the late 1970's and 80's. According to Teo, these "mothers and grandmothers" have recently been seduced by government monies to form a type of political party which has distanced them from some who used to support their cause.

Panorama including Confiteria del Molino

We also saw the Casa Rosada (The Pink House - doesn't have the same ring to it in English) where Evita used to wave from the balconies with the shaded windows. We took a few breaks and meandered toward the Obelisk where our tour ended. Teo was a likeable guy who has a strong passion for his country when it comes to football. When it comes to talking about politics or grafitti, he was apalled. However, he'd never want to live anywhere else and continues leading his "free tours" of BsAs.

Montevideo: South of Buenos Aires

Palacio Salvo

We just got back from a brief trip to Montevideo, the capital of Uruguay, where Jen did some training for a group of young American college graduates in Latin America working as teaching assistants. Montevideo lies directly across the Rio de La Plata from Buenos Aires and is actually slightly south of BA, a fact that might win you a bar bet someday. It's a three hour trip by boat, but on this occasion we took the thirty-minute flight on Uruguay's flagship carrier, Pluna. Leaving a chilly, but bright and sunny BA, we were greeted in Montevideo a half hour later by wet, stormy weather.

"What the hell?" I thought, realizing I had brought neither coat nor umbrella, and cursed the internet's predictions of steady sunshine. Driving along the coastal road into the city, it became clear that we had run into a pretty serious storm blowing in unexpectedly from Antarctica. "Southern winds" is how our driver put it. No kidding. The seafront, where the giant Rio de La Plata estuary meets the Atlantic Ocean, was being pounded by high tides and angry, choppy chocolate-brown waves. The wind was blowing a gale. Muy frio.

Punta Carretas Fruit Market

Our seaside hotel was nice, but not exactly central. We checked in around noon and had the rest of the day free, so we decided to take a city bus to the Ciudad Vieja (Old Town). Piling on all the clothes we could find, we ended up wandering around downtown Montevideo on a Sunday afternoon, which was strange because the place was completely deserted, as in ghost town deserted (I don't think the weather helped). We soon got back on the bus and headed back to the hotel. [Once the weather calmed down a bit on the second day, we got a proper tour of the city center and some of its interesting architecture.] Nothing to do at that point but relax and think about dinner.
We did some internet research and found that there was a highly regarded restaurant just around the corner called La Perdiz (The Grouse). As it turned out, there was nothing to grouse about. The food, sevice, and ambience were all excellent, and we ended up eating there three times, including the full group scarf-a-thon prior to departure on our last day. This mid-day repast featured beef carpaccio, fried cheese, chorizo sausage, fried ravioli, potatoes w/ mushroom sauce, fried fish, topped off with a giant steak! Wimpily, we declined the dessert.
Montevideo looks like a pretty cool place - miles of seaside with palm trees and beaches (kinda California-ish), with a center city that is reminiscent of (small-scale) Buenos Aires. We'll have to go back during the warmer months to get a proper feel for the place, I think. That wind, direct from the South Pole, was really freakin' nippy!

The (Meat) Hangover



Asado!

Well, it's a muggy, lazy day here in Buenos Aires ("El dia del papa" according to Hallmark en espanol), and we are struggling to overcome the effects of a "meat hangover" brought about by our attendance at a friend's asado (barbecue) last night. In fine Argentine tradition, we were scarfing down steaks sometime after midnight, got to bed around 3 am, and have been moving at half speed all day. Anyway, we've now been in Argentina for almost five months, and I think it's a perfect time to make a few more observations about our surroundings:

• Argentines love scarves, especially women, but men as well - everyone wears them. At the first hint of autumn, the scarves come out in force, protecting sensitive necks from sub-70F degree temps. As the temperature approaches 60F, some locals take to wrapping their faces. It's part of an overall tendency to wear serious cold-weather gear in the "winter" months: long, heavy quilted coats, wool caps, gloves...I think mostly though, scarves just look fashionable!

La bufanda (the scarf)

• There are an incredible number of red-headed people in this city. We've been a lot of places, but nowhere can compare to BA for the number of ginger-tops. I have no idea why this might be the case, but I intend to make inquiries.
• Pigeons in Buenos Aires are the most raggedy, sickly, motley bunch of birds I've ever seen. Again, this is a mystery as the climate is benign, there is little air pollution, and there is a tremendous amount of bread lying about in the streets (there's a bakery on every block here). They should be thriving, but as a whole, they look like the victims of a mad scientist's experiment gone wrong.
• The best place to get a coffee (quality, price, serving size) is, unbelievably, Starbucks.
• Argentine politics are incredibly Byzantine. This is an election year and things are beginning to heat up - I just wish I could figure out what was going on. It seems that Cristina (the Prez) is due to cruise to an easy victory, but there are so many other political figures running for various positions in the city, the province, and nationally that it makes my head hurt.

"Gone to get the morning paper; back in 10 min."

• When we first got here, I saw several one-armed people around town. Lately, I've been seeing a lot of guys with one leg. Quien sabe?
• We had a garbage strike that lasted a few days. Stuff piles up pretty darn fast, I must say. Also, we have seen several abandoned toilets on sidewalks around our neighborhood. Seems odd.
• Homeless people often carry their mattresses around with them and set them up in high-traffic places. Also, much like everyone here, many enjoy reading the newspaper, and it's common to see a homeless guy stretched out on his public bed, deeply engrossed in current events.
• I just now went to the market, and two guys have installed a sidewalk mattress on our corner. As I passed, they were blissfully sawing logs. I'm tempted to say, "there goes the neighborhood!", but maybe they'll be off to greener pastures by morning.

300

Group work

Hey ho! Maybe you remember this title from a Gerard Butler movie about a Greek battle. Joe tells me 300 Spartans held off the Persian Army. In my recent experience the number more refers to the number of participants that I "held off" or, better, kept engaged at my last big presentation venue. 400 participants signed up for my last workshop.  The ones that attended cordially worked "with" me! I have been marketing my workshops with the ministry and binational centers since my arrival, and I have struck paydirt! There is a list-serv that the ministry runs that reaches over 8000 teachers throughout the country. As soon as my presentation on Lesson-planning was advertised people were filling out the online google doc (I had no idea that google docs could handle registration info and put it in a tidy excel document for you!).

We capped the registration at 400 which meant around 50% were predicted to show. It seems as though the best of intentions cause people to eagerly fill out registration forms, but often at the last minute something comes up. Well . . . 300 showed up. You can tell from the pictures that the participants were "golden"! They worked in groups and pairs  . . . it was magical (and exhausting!). However, once you manage this kind of group in an interactive plenary . . . you can do anything, right?

All ages event!

We advertised the same presentation again, and in 24 hours over 200 had registered! Amazing. We capped that one right away and will see if the audience that shows up next Thursday is, in fact, more manageable. Ahhh, how to deal with success?? A dilemma that I welcome :) In the meantime, I made a quick trip to Rosario, a city about 3-4 hours northeast by car. The audience there consisted of 20 language school directors. . . so intimate! Afterwards, I was able to run around the city pedestrian mall taking quick pictures before the sun went completely down. I was even able to capture a short video of a young accordian player being intently watched by an older gentleman (maybe a fellow player?).

Pair work with a smaller audience in Rosario

Anyhow, things are picking up . . . which is exciting. My biggest challenge is to take presentations that I am accustomed to delivering to 20-30 participants and make them more user-friendly to a large audience. I have already started moving them to a PowerPoint format, making pair and group work more explicit, asking for microphones for both me and audience member comments, and posting handouts online for participants to print ahead of time and bring with them to the venue. Coming soon to an auditorium near you! Check your local listings

Lights, Camera, Hablá!

There is a big film industry in Buenos Aires. You may have seen some of the films made here . . . you can even see actors out and about in the streets. In fact, today on my way through the building to meet with our Academic Director, I crossed paths with a famous 60-something gentleman-actor of soap and film star fame. I have yet to find out his name, but I was told that he is a well-known personality in Argentina. That being said, I'm not going to talk about film acting . . . but voice acting.

Joe, Jen, and Claudio

Every year the Ministry of Education develops language tests for the entire city of Buenos Aires. Over the last 3 months, I have worked with a team to review, revise, and edit listening and reading passages and test items to be used to assess the English language levels of elementary and high school kids. Well, Saturday was the big day of recording the listening segments. We arrived at Julian's sound studio early enough to catch my co-workers buying some "facturas" (Argentine pastries) to give us energy for the recording session. The Ministry had recruited Susan from New Zealand, Emily from Tennessee, Jacqui from Indiana, Jen from Texas, Joe from Oklahoma, and Claudio from Argentina (who can affect a perfectly British accent).

Susan, Claudio, Jacqui, Emily, and Carla

We all took our turns in the sound-proof room reading our scripts . . . scripts that included fairy tales, interviews, news broadcasts, conversations, teachers conducting class, phone messages, and commercials. I got to do a commercial, be a teacher, and read an NPR-type news story. Joe was a hen-pecked husband, a newscaster, and a teenaged boy (one of those three was type-casting . . . ). It was really a fun experience! I had marked the scripts for stress as part of the tedious editing process, and I was pleasantly surprised at how authentic everything sounded. Julian will later insert the clapping, ding dongs, beeps, doors opening and closing, and background music. How cool will that be? I can't wait to hear the final product.

I hope the kids of Buenos Aires enjoy taking their next standardized English language test. Having played many-a-language-tape and CD in class, I have to say that our new-found enthusiasm for acting certainly came through in our voices.

Carlitos: El Sabor de Peru



Pollada con ensalada y papas fritas

Buenos Aires, while a great eating town, is not the place you come to indulge in a wide variety of "ethnic" cuisines. Although a tremendous number of different ethnicities are represented in the cultural make-up of the city, when it comes to the restaurant scene, Argentine restaurants, with their emphasis on meat and pasta (and, of course, pizza) dominate. There are a number of Chinese places in Belgrano's Barrio Chino, a smattering of Middle-Eastern joints in Palermo, and a few expensive Japanese and "Southeast-Asian fusion" restaurants in Palermo Hollywood. However, since our guiding philosophy most of the time is "cheap, delicious, and close to home", we end up going to our favorite Peruvian restaurant, Carlitos, probably twice a week.

As I mentioned before, we technically live in the "ritzy" neighborhood of Recoleta, final resting place of Evita Peron and home to a lot of BA's "old money". However, we live on the southern edge of Recoleta, a mere one block from the distinctly downmarket neighborhood of Abasto, spiritual home of the tango and Argentine icon Carlos Gardel [note: a series on the different barrios of Buenos Aires is upcoming]. Abasto is also the home to many of BA's Peruvian immigrants, of which there are probably a couple of hundred thousand. Peruvian food culture is highly developed and centers around three things: potatoes, seafood, and chicken. They are experts in preparing the abovementioned items (and, unlike the Argentines, like some picante in their food).There are bunches of Peruvian restaurants within walking distance of our place, but we've made hole -in-the-wall Carlitos our go-to spot.

Carlitos has an extensive menu, and we've tried a few different things: papas huancaina (potatoes in a creamy sauce), cabrito con porotos ("mountain goat w/ beans" according to the menu), jalea mixta (a mountain of fried fish, shrimp, octopus, squid and mussels w/ lemony onions), not to mention chicken prepared a half-dozen ways. Lately though, we've been obsessed with the pollada con ensalada y papas fritas (fried chicken w/ salad and "friendo" potatoes) accompanied by a side of creamy white beans. Delicious! And cheap. The above (easily big enough for two people), along with a liter of ice-cold Heineken, costs around thirteen bucks. We're hooked. There are actually two branches within a couple of blocks of each other - the original funky one and a newer flashier one - we prefer the funky one (see photos). It's always packed w/ Peruvian families demolishing huge platters of food while drinking candy-colored soft drinks. It's loud, friendly, and fun...and the food - riquissimo!

Slanted, But Not Enchanted: The Sidewalks of Buenos Aires

Buenos Aires is a big city - thirteen million people big. They say it is the fourth noisiest city in the world (pero, quien sabe?). There are a ton of cars and trucks jamming the streets, a million taxis, hordes of buses. All the wheeled traffic notwithstanding, most portenos spend a good deal of their time walking. Since we are now cast as portenos, we too spend a lot of time walking - from our four-mile speedwalk through Recoleta every morning, to my daily peregrinations around our neighborhood, to Jen's negotiation of the narrow passages of Microcentro where she has her office. Entonces, it's high time that I address the condition of the sidewalks here in BA. They are, in a word, deplorable.

The sidewalks in this city, from the nicest neighborhoods to the humblest, from city center to far suburban barrio, are totally thrashed. Broken, battered, shattered, scattered, crumbling, stumbling, unstable, uneven, undermined, missing entirely - to walk in Buenos Aires is to run a never-ending obstacle course. The slightest inattention can cost you dearly. We have learned to cope. Jen has already mentioned my pavement-scanning method:
1) always look down
2) keep your eyes on the pavement out to about 15 feet
3) avoid all piles, mounds, chunks, logs, and smears
4) be suspicious of pieces of wood or carpet where there should be sidewalk
5) call out all hazards to your partner
[At this time I hereby inform the reader that I will NOT, in this entry, directly address the issue of dog waste, the "800 lb. gorilla" of BA sidewalk controversies. I am currently writing a BOOK on BA's dogsh*t problem.]
This method keeps us pretty trouble-free. It also helps that we are fairly athletic when we need to be. Some people aren't so lucky.

We've been here less than four months and between the two of us have witnessed a half-dozen sidewalk mishaps, from semi-comical to downright gruesome, usually involving some poor little old lady pitching headfirst onto the filthy pavement. After living here their whole lives, they still can't avoid being victimized by wobbly tiles, missing pavers, random tree roots, and ankle-snapping holes in the middle of the sidewalk. Dear City Fathers of Buenos Aires: get it together, hombres! This is a wonderful city - and those sweet little old ladies deserve much better.

How to speak like an Argentine

Without getting into the slang (I haven't heard much in the circles I run in), here are a few phrases that might make you feel a little bit more of an insider if you talk to Argentines in Spanish. I've found a few simple differences that really give Argentine Spanish a distinct personality. Also, the pronunciation, for me, is generally quite clear and musical, sounding a bit like you'd imagine an Italian would speak Spanish.

I've incorporated a few of the following habits, but I still can't get into using the "vos" form. I continue to speak what my Spanish tutor calls "neutral Spanish" using the "tú" form. What is written in italics is the way you would hear the phrase in another Spanish speaking country.

• Dale (DA-le) = Vale = OK
• Vos = Tú = You (familiar)
• ¿Como andás? = ¿Como andas? = How's it going? (Note: all verbs in familiar singular form follow the vos conjugation, a shortened vosotros form)
• ¡Buen día! = ¡Buenos días! = Good morning (greeting used until around 2pm)
• ¿Todo bien? = Everything going OK? (Used in every situation possible)
• Todo bien = Everything's OK. (Used in all situations in which everything's OK)
• ¿Cuánto sale? = ¿Cuánto cuesta? = How much is it?
• Colectivo = bus = bus
• Castellano = Español = Spanish
• Pronunciation of all words with "ll"  is sh or zh, i.e. Servilleta (ser-vi-SHE-ta) = napkin (I've made the mistake of NOT implementing this pronunciation and everyone was completely puzzled when I asked for some napkins!)
• Chao = Adios = Bye
• Chicos = Kids (this is what they call everyone, even us! I guess it translates as to something like "guys", meaning it includes women and men)
• Eh? = In sort of an Italian-like way, this is said with rising intonation at the end of a sentence to confirm understanding. It could translate as "right?"
• Thumbs up = Everything's OK/understood
• Fingers flicked under chin outward =  I don't have the slightest idea.
• ¿Que le vamos a hacer? = What can you do?
• Kiss on the cheek = Extremely common gesture that everyone does - whether you know someone or not, you must be prepared to kiss one time on  the right cheek "hello" and "goodbye"!
• Beso = Literally means "kiss" but used to sign off at the end of a telephone conversation.

Heres the trailer of an Argentine movie called Amorosa Soledad. The lead actress has a very pronounced Argentine accent; if you listen carefully, you can hear "Todo bien?" and lots of examples of the vos conjugation. Also, she gives a good example of the Italian-sounding Spanish:

La Gente

Note: This entry is in Spanish. For your convenience, you can use the Google Website Translator Widget on the right. Have fun!

Míra . . . estamos en Argentina y hasta ahora no hemos comentado nada en español, solo unas palabras. ¡Que barbaridad! ¿No? Y por eso, yo dedico esta entrada a mis compañeros hispanohablantes y también será buena práctica para mis amigos en EEUU quienes están estudiando castellano (¡como dicen acá refiriéndose al idioma español!). El tema hoy es "la gente". No hemos hablado mucho de eso, y quiero dar todo mi respeto a la gente de Argentina que nos está tratando con mucha amabilidad.

Musicians in San Telmo Neighborhood

En primer lugar, tengo que decir que todo el mundo trata de ayudarnos y entendernos cuando hablamos español, perdón, “castellano”. Es obvio que somos de otro país . . . pero me da gusto (no sé por qué, quizás porque yo no quiero ser el esteriotipo de un norteamericano hablando "mal" español) cuando ellos no me puedan identificar de qué país soy . . . ¿Brasil, España, Alemania, Francia? Siempre y cuando no me den por una “gringa” o “yanqui”, como se llama a los de Norteamérica. Claro, soy una, pero me gusta cuando yo no sueno como tal.

No faltan oportunidades de hablar en castellano porque es verdad que a los argentinos, al menos los en Buenos Aires, les gusta hablar. Siempre me sorprende que alguien en una parada de colectivos (buses), justamente en el colectivo, en un almacén, en un restaurante, en la fila en el supermercado, es decir en todos lugares la gente quiere hablar de cualquier cosa. A veces el tema tiene que ver con mi cartera que está poca abierta y alguien quiere advertirme que hay gente quien me podría robar si yo no cuide bien mis cosas. Me parece que todos tienen actitudes muy buenas, sin agresión, con intenciones muy buenas.

Tango in Belgrano Neighborhood

También yo pienso que los Argentinos tratan bién el uno al otro. Una compañera de trabajo niega eso y me dice que los Argentinos siempre están mejor con la gente desde afuera. Puede ser, pero yo he visto otra cosa. Cuando estoy en el colectivo (un evento que ocupa mucho tiempo de la mayoría de gente, inclusive yo), nunca he visto una ocasión en que un joven no ofreció su asiento a un anciano o una chica embarazada. También en la calle, desafortunadamente, hay unas ocasiones en cuales una persona se le caiga debido a los superficies del senderos que son muy irregulares. Siempre hay alguien o grupo de personas que huyan a ayudarlo. Una vez cuando Joe y yo estuvimos esperando un una parada, había un chico ciego. El hablo con una mujer de preguntar donde paró el 29. Ella vio que yo estaba en la parada del 29, agarró el brazo del chico, lo arrastró (es decir en una buena manera) a mi lado, y puso la mano de el en mi hombro. Tuvimos una conversación, por supuesto, de donde yo fuera, etc. y después y lo ayudé a subir nuestro colectivo 29. Hablando de una experiencia auténtica . . . ¡Me sentí muy orgullosa de mí!

La Boca Neighborhood

Los celulares no son tan populares como en otros países en cuales nosotros hemos vivido. Aunque sean utilizados, aparece que la gente prefiere hablar cara a cara. He visto solo dos o tres “bluetooths” en una ciudad de 13 millones personas. La gente es expresiva, pero en mi opinión, no tan ruida. Supuestamente, Buenos Aires es la cuarta ciudad más ruidoso del mundo. A veces hay sirenas de ambulancias o de policía, y aun una fiesta para celebrar el fútbol, pero por lo general no me parece extremo. En el tiempo de ocio, les gustan ir al teatro, bailar (es verdad que hay gente común quien baila tango), ir a restaurantes (o se dicen restobar, como café), escuchar música (Placido Domingo vino por un concierto gratis recientemente), tocar música, ir de museos, y ir a mercados de artesanías (son muy artísticos y aprecian el arte).

Finalmente, quiero comentar en la dulzura que veo alrededor de nosotros. Hace poco, el año escolar empezó. Vimos todos los niños yendo a escuela con uno o dos de sus padres. Ellos se toman de la mano y caminan juntos. Y lo hacen diariamente, no solo durante la primera semana de las clases. Y tan tierno, especialmente cuando hay una niña de cómo 6 años caminando con su papá. A veces se ven casi lo mismo, el grande sin pelo, y la pequeña con trenzas largas. Y hablando del cariño, los jóvenes enamorados se besan en público, de hecho, todo el mundo se besa acá. Una vez en la mejilla derecha para saludar y cuando salgas, hombre a mujer, mujer a mujer, y hombre a hombre. Sí, es verdad, son muy cálidos el uno al otro. ¡Es algo que tuvimos que aprender de hacer con fluidez!

En resumen, cada día me impresiona mas la consideración y cortesía que la gente nos ofrece acá. Es algo especial que hemos encontrado en Buenos Aires.

Chivito!

Even though we are in Argentina for an "official" purpose, we are both here on tourist visas, the only visa available to us, apparently. These visas allow us 90 days, after which time we have to leave the country. This state of affairs leads to us having to do a "visa run" every three months - leave Argentina briefly, then return with a fresh 90 days. There are a lot of people living in Buenos Aires faced with this same situation, and most of them choose the quickest and cheapest solution: the fast boat to Colonia, across the mighty Rio de la Plata, in Uruguay. We did our first "run" last week - our first visit to Argentina's placid, almost forgotten neighbor, Uruguay.

Calle de los Suspiros (Street of Sighs)

The boat trip is pretty painless, taking about an hour each way and costing about 40 bucks roundtrip. The river (more properly, estuary) is created by the confluence of the Rio Parana and the Rio Uruguay, and by the time it meets the South Atlantic at Buenos Aires it is more or less an ocean of brownish chop (brown from its draining a large chunk of South America). Not too appetizing really - I was neither drawn to swimming nor fishing in it! Anyway, an hour after leaving the teeming urban jungle of Buenos Aires, we arrived in Colonia - a small colonial outpost and UNESCO heritage site, known for its well-preserved 17th century buildings and even older ruins.

Colonia is pretty quiet. When we got there at 9:30, it seemed like we were the only people in town. We walked to the barrio historico (Old Town) and just wandered around for an hour or two. No cars, no people, just a few sleepy dogs, a couple of which we roused from slumber and who then decided to follow us around. We had made a reservation to spend the night and return to BA the follwing afternoon, but by noon it seemed as if we had seen the entire place. How were we gonna kill another 30 hours in this burg? It was picturesque, no doubt, but I started to regret not taking the afternoon boat home to BA. That's when we discovered the chivito.

Chivito!

The chivito is Uruguay's gift to the culinary world: a big-ass sandwich (also available as a plato, topping a pile of french fries) consisting of a thin steak, ham, cheese, bacon, and a fried egg, along with lettuce, tomato, and a number of other random add-ons. On day one we split a chivito platter, all the aforementioned goodies served on a bed of crispy fries. It was delicious and plenty for two people. On day two we sussed out a mobile chivito cart on a side street and ordered the classic sandwich. The old guy manning the grill took obvious pride in his product and offered us a selection of extras to put on our chivito. We opted for garlic mayonnaise, mushrooms, pickled red peppers, and spicy green peppers. It was huge (how could one person eat this thing?), delicious, and more than worth the 5 bucks it cost. Riquissimo!

Anyway, Colonia kind of grew on us, and we were able to spend our two days there enjoyably. We took a lot of photos, wandered about, and made observations: Cars make a point of stopping for pedestrians in Colonia - unlike BA where drivers will run you down in the crosswalks. People seemed more conservative and less likely to smile or joke around...was it a small-town thing? a tourist-town thing? a Uruguayan thing? It's not particularly cheap in Colonia - it thrives on tourism, especially hordes of Argentinian day-trippers, and there a lot of tourist traps, especially in the barrio historico. It pays to poke around and find the good deals (Jen bought a beautiful scarf). BTW, you'll get horribly short-changed if you bring Argentine pesos - dollars or Euros are a much better bet on the exchange.

We made it back to home sweet Buenos Aires on Thursday evening in a pouring rainstorm and had to find our way home from the waterfront. Forget finding a taxi in those conditions - we took two busses, and the rain had stopped by the time we got to our apartment. We were wet and tired and glad to be home. The next time we do a visa run, maybe we'll take a few days to explore Montevideo, Uruguay's capital, or the lovely beaches up the coast. Or maybe we'll just take the morning boat to Colonia and the afternoon boat back - now that's a visa run!