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