This is the beginning of my third day in Buenos Aires, and my emotions thus far have ranged from ecstatic to homesick to frustrated to peaceful to "enamorada con la vida" to frustrated again to awestruck/enraptured, rinse and repeat.
Day 1
Taking off from Houston on Wednesday the three of us (I, Beth, and Stephanie- you'll know them better later I'm sure) made a pact not to utter another word of English except when absolutely necessary. That went well for the most part, and when we arrived at Aeropuerto Ezeiza at noon the next day, we were of course excited and ready to take the world by storm. Customs went smoothly minus the moment when I told the official taking forms that I didn't know the exact number of my address here in the city because I had forgotten to copy it down from the email it came in, I only knew that I was on some street called "Santa Fe." But then, after a few minutes of discussion during which I had to ask her to repeat too many things (lesson #1- ears trained for the very regular rhythm of Mexican Spanish can't quite distinguish words as clearly upon early exposure to the song-like inflections of the porteños) she decided I wasn't worth the trouble and let me go ahead anyway.
The three of us were an entertaining gringa sight as we picked our bags up off the luggage belt- Stephanie's and Beth's large over-50-lb suitcases, two each, my one humongous and overweight portable closet that looked like I'd stuffed several members of my family in to take along for the ride. Outside baggage claim we met Raúl, our program director, who greeted us with our first traditional Argentine single-cheek kisses. Small man though he is, he insisted absolutely on heaving our biggest and fullest luggage cart all the way to the waiting van, and loading the suitcases inside himself with some help from the driver (palabra del día- "pesado").
The city is enormous and full of so many interesting sights I couldn't stop turning my head from one window to the other, trying to see as much as possible. Each barrio (neighborhood) has its own distinct feel, and so far I've found places that remind me of New York (mainly the Recoleta area and my own, Palermo), Puerto Vallarta, and even Dublin. Very much a melting pot of everything and every type of person you could possibly imagine, which is wonderfully and constantly fascinating. We took Beth and Stephanie to their host mother's house in Recoleta, and then drove over to my host mom's apartment in Plaza Italia, Palermo. I surprised myself with the quality of my Spanish in the airport and on the ride through town talking with Raúl, but all of a sudden, and of course the moment we reached my host mother's house, my brain switched into overload mode. I guess the three hours of sleep and ten-hour flight had caught up with me, and I could hardly remember how to say "Can I have a glass of water?". Marta (my host mom) showed me to my room (temporary until the Brazilian student who's been staying spring semester left the one meant for me and my roommate, who arrives later today), and due to the lack of sleep and windows in the room, the sight of my enormous suitcase waiting to be unpacked, and the thought of not being able to reach Beth or Stephanie until I learned the bus or subway system, I was hit by more homesickness than I've felt since the last day of summer camp when I was ten, and promptly sat and cried. Lesson #2- familiar smells can give amazing relief to homesickness. Anything- perfume, hair product, facial moisturizer, leather shoes, shoving your face into your suitcase under all the clothes and taking a whiff of the leftover smell of home (not that I did anything like that of course)- they have miraculous comforting powers.
A long walk and sit in the botanical garden across the street from mi apartamento also worked wonders- it's full of stray cats and a great place to sketch, learn about all its plants, have lunch or a good conversation with someone, or just sit and watch people go by, which is what I opted to do. I understood perfectly (score team Claire) when the guard walked by and told me that the garden was closing in five minutes, and to get to the entrance on Avenida Sta. Fe by walking back around the greenhouse and to the right, and went back home for some much-needed conversation with friends via Facebook and dinner Argentine- and Marta-style. Most Argentines eat around 9:00 at night, and if an Argentine ever tells you the same, bear in mind "9:00" translates roughly to 9:45-10:15. Marta is an excellent cook, and encourages anyone at the table to eat as much as he or she wants ("Vos querés más? Hay otro plato en la heladera."), and so far makes things that are very light, fresh, and healthy- three qualities I'm more than OK with in a dinner.
Unfortunately for some reason the photo upload function isn't finding all my JPG files, so once I figure that out I'll have some pictures for you, but for now more on the rest of the first few days later. At the moment I have a suitcase that's only half unpacked, so my next task is to tackle the rest of that monster, and then enjoy a day of walking around the city and garden and getting to know my roommate, Sarah. Ciao y que tengan buen fin de semana!
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