De la vida cotidiana

There are a few very common words and phrases that have come to be my absolute favorites in all of the Spanish language simply because they are so heavily used by porteños, and used in the most porteño ways. Here are second runner-up, first runner-up, and first prize, respectively:

3) "Qué sé yo?"

2) "¡Miravos!"

and the best of them all,

1) "BUENO,...."

3) The first one people generally say to mean the equivalent of something like the English "Who knows?" or "What do I know?". The reason I like it is that when anyone around here says it (particularly my gloriously dramatic Urban Fictions class professor) it of course comes out as the Castellano Rioplatense "Qué sé sho?", and it's accompanied by exaggerated hand gestures, usually something along the lines of the waving or circling of the hand back and forth near the chin or neck, which I believe is generally (maybe?) associated with Italians, with a face that looks something like this:

2) "Ah, Miravos" is used as an expression of mild surprise, sort of along the lines of "Oh, well look at that!" or "You learn something new every day!" It usually comes with a nice interested nod of the head and a politely surprised look in the eyes, like this one:

1) Bueno, the word "bueno", basically the most versatile word, and my favorite, in the entire Spanish language, is used in similar contexts to those which use "well" or "so" or "ok" in English. It is appropriate at the beginning of almost every sentence you can possibly imagine, and it can be said nonchalantly, to fill a gap in conversation, with intentions which can be expressed using the face- "Bueno, que vamos a encontrar para hacer esta noche?" AKA "So, what are we going to do tonight?" (see photo 1), to show skepticism, or to indicate disapproval or criticism- "BUENO, que vamos a hacer con ese conjunto desastroso? ¡Por Dios!" AKA "Well, what in heaven's name are we going to do with that disastrous outfit?" (See photo 2). The word "bueno" is usually pronounced with heavy emphasis on the "BUEN" syllable, with the "o" sort of using the momentum of the first syllable to bounce down a fraction of a pitch lower. Like most of the daily discourse here, it comes out sounding very song-like. The only way I know to describe it is, again, Italian. Basically, think of the classic pronunciation of the Italian "Mama mia", apply the resulting inflection to the three phrases above, and there you have a fairly accurate representation of the sound of Spanish in Buenos Aires.

Two-y-pico weeks later...

I think I jinxed myself by saying I resolved to post more often- the past couple of weeks have been wonderfully busy. Semester classes have started (more on those later), and my family (well, parents and Caroline, the smallest Ellis anyway-story about that to come too) came to visit me and we had a fabulous time! I was able to show them all the places in the city I had most wanted to, and we went nonstop all day long just about every day they were here.

Basically right now I'm trying to re-establish my motivation to post- I got distracted there for a while and then got lazy.  Looking back on my first day here I feel like it's been months and months since I arrived, yet saying I've already been here for two months sounds crazy. After having talked with a few trustworthy sources about my blogger's block, I'm just going to pick my own brain and give my findings to you.

One of the most unexpectedly difficult things about this trip has been finding people who want to speak Spanish. Traveling with an American-based study abroad group means that unless the entire group decides to make a concerted effort not to speak English, chances are your Spanish will not improve and perhaps worsen the more time you spend with the group, or if you don't at the very least balance time in English with time with people who speak Spanish as a first language. Making the effort to actively go and seek out native speakers, speakers who want to speak with you, and enough speaking time that the exposure improves your ability is something that requires new motivation every single day. There are days and moments when finding the motivation can be so difficult that I've gotten discouraged and lost my steam for improving at all.
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Side note- first world problems, anyone? Seeing people on the street whose chief concerns include trying to round up enough stray coins for one bus fare (about 30 cents American), making sure they find their next meal, or deciding which bench in the park will make the most sheltered spot to spend the night can put my own complaints into perspective pretty quickly.
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There are lots of people in the city who have a generally Anglo appearance as far as coloring goes, but it's easy enough to spot the features and demeanor of a foreigner if you've been here long enough. Generally I am greeted in English wherever I go until I have the chance to say enough to establish the fact that I speak/understand and prefer to converse in Spanish. I was in and out of moderate to heavy frustration over this for a while, especially the first month I was here, because (in my own head) why did these people keep trying to categorize me as a tourist who doesn't know $@#& and prevent me from reaching my goal?? I live here, thank you very much!! I do my laundry two blocks away and the women at the bakery next door know that my favorite empanada is jamon y queso!!

A few weeks ago-ish, walking to my apartment from the subte stop, I passed the restaurant that's located a few doors down. There's often a waiter standing outside it trying to win over potential diners, and this particular afternoon the designated hustler called "Lady, beautiful! Hello! Special, good deals!" as I walked by, a contrast to the Spanish with which he had called to people walking ahead of me. As I briefly glanced sideways and said "No, gracias", his broken English filled me with ire. Continuing down the sidewalk, though, I took the time to think about it a little more. I am blonde. I have freckles and features and a 5-foot-8-inch body type that are clearly not Latin American. How would this waiter know to identify me as anything but a tourist or someone unfamiliar with the territory and the language, as so many people who look like me would be? He didn't know me, had never heard me say anything, had never seen me put the key into the door of my apartment a few doors down. It was at this point that I came to the acceptance of the fact that no matter how long I stay here, no matter how much porteño slang I know and how many local people I befriend, I will always be "la rubia". I love Latin culture, I love the Spanish language, I love to travel and speak and am gloriously open to new cultural experiences, but alas, I am not a native of the Spanish-speaking world. I am by birth and nature an American. And you know what? I'll own it. Why do anything else with it? I will never stop loving to immerse myself in other cultures and seeing as much of the world as I can, but I accept my own culture as a part of who I am. The United States doesn't have to define me, but it will always be the place I come from, it's the place I'll go back to when this experience is over, and it's my heritage, and I'm perfectly content to say that I appreciate it.

Making a jump back to the language topic, my friend Anna said something encouraging recently about fluency- someone told her during her fall semester in Ecuador that any speaker who can understand what is said to him and make himself understood should consider himself fluent. I guess that means I'm fluent in Spanish. Depending on the situation and my m ood my vocabulary is more ready sometimes than others, but putting some thought into the matter, I realized after she said that that I know absolutely everything I need to know about the language to be able to speak it without a hitch -barring colloquial differences and taking into consideration the fact that my vocabulary will never stop expanding. But it is true that I've known how to navigate through every single situation I've found myself in here so far, and when I've been in public with groups, have saved the lot of us many times from getting lost, missing a destination, not finding the bathroom, or ordering something unappetizing, among other things- kind of cool. I'm excited to see what other adventures I'll find myself having the next few months and where my drive to keep learning takes me.

I'll have more stories for you soon, and I hope everybody is having a wonderful spring up north! The low here two nights ago was 49 degrees F- yikes, not ready for fall yet!

A Brief Tour

Good morning, anyone reading! Sorry for all the space between posts again- I'm resolving to be better after this. It is a beautiful morning in the city, like almost all the mornings I've seen here so far. Even though I've been here a month, I usually wake up and have to take a few seconds to realize where I am, and each time I do the feeling is just as wonderful. I keep having the South American version of Robert August's "Endless Summer" moment ("Hey, Mike! We're in AFRICA!") and I feel incredibly blessed to have the opportunity to experience living here.

Today I'd like to take you on a tour through the things/places I've enjoyed and loved most in Buenos Aires and the little of the rest of Argentina I've seen so far- if you ever decide to plan a trip here, I would recommend these places as must-see.

1) The Recoleta cemetery, park, Cultural Center, and the Basilica Nuestra Señora del Pilar

The building of the basilica was begun in 1716 and finished in 1732 by the Padres Recoletos, a French chapter of the Franciscans. The cemetery was opened in 1822 and houses the graves/ashes of some of the most important families and people in Argentina's history. Eva Peron and Juan Peron both are buried there, as well as Domingo Faustino Sarmiento, one of Argentina's most notable presidents, and Juan Manuel de Rosas, one of the province's most controversial governors, along with many, many more. The vaults in the cemetery increase in grandeur with the status of the families whose bodies they house. Some are simple stone rooms, some are like marble halls complete with sculptures of cherubim or Grecian figures and engraved names of all buried family members. Nearly all of the vaults have glass-paned doors through which you can see the actual coffins or urns holding ashes, and empty shelves that are meant to eventually hold family members still living. It is a fascinating place and in my opinion a bit chilling- completely silent, and like many parts of the city, home to a large tribe of stray cats. The cultural center was once the monastery originally built by the Franciscans, and still houses its original garden (see 1000 Words post). The park surrounding the church and cemetery has one of the best ferias in the city on Saturdays and Sundays. Last Saturday I bought my very first mate there (see below!) and still need to buy yerba to cure it and then use for drinking from it.

2) Buenos Aires Design

BA Design is located in the same park as the cemetery and basilica, but it needs its own separate mention. It is basically a mall entirely devoted to the art of, well, design. It's full of unique shapes, inspiring patterns and color combinations, imported pieces from Italy, and high prices. There are furniture stores, bathroom and kitchen design stores, and one large home accessory store called "Morph" that reminds me quite a bit of what I've heard about Ikea (never actually been there) and has better prices than the more specialized stores. I love walking through it and getting inspiration for my art, feeling textures, smelling new merchandise smell, and taking pictures.

3) El Rosedal de los Bosques de Palermo

The Bosques de Palermo is one of the city's hugest and most amazing parks, and it's located in my barrio (Palermo), only about a mile's walk away. I go there at least a few times a week, and it's one of my favorite running spots. The Rosedal is the rose garden located inside the running/skating track. It's almost completely hidden until you walk into its gates, and it's one of the most beautiful places I've ever visited in my life. It has roses of every breed/size/color you can imagine- pink, red, white, lavender, yellow, pink with yellow-tipped petals, pink with dark pink speckles, scarlet- amazing. If I have time after a run to/through the park I generally like to have a relaxing walk through the garden. It's a great place for reading, photography, couples young and old, and my personal favorite- just sitting and thinking, taking in the sky and the flowers and listening to the breezes playing through the trees and rosebushes.

4) El Río Tigre

Yesterday my study abroad group made an excursion to Tigre, the town by the Tigre river, where we took a ride in a river tour boat, ate some of the richest meat and chorizo I've had yet in a parrilla there, and walked around the Feria de los Frutos, another street fair with a great selection of produce, leather and wood goods, and novelties. We also paid a visit to the art museum, built in the style of a French palace, that used to be the gathering place/playground of the wealthy and well-to-do in the early 20th century. Lots of families live on the river and travel it and its tributaries by boat, and there are a few places good for swimming and sun-bathing. Hopefully I find an opportunity to go back and actually spend some time in the water there.

 5) Palermo Soho

Only about 8 blocks from Marta's apartment, the artsy, young, stylish sector of my barrio, Palermo Soho is an area of a few blocks with some of the best restaurants in BA, some of its most unique shopping, and my favorite weekend feria. The feria in Palermo Soho appears to have some of the better-quality goods that I've seen, and many of the vendors are small business owners who bring a selection of merchandise from their stores in other locations to sell every weekend. I've been infatuated with various pieces of clothing there that I can't quite bring myself to buy, and there is also a fantastic selection of jewelry, leather work, and hair accessories.

BsAs, me encantás

One of the things I have been surprised and delighted by in Buenos Aires is the way people take care of each other here. I'm not only talking about friends and family, but about strangers too- there's a sort of unity in the idea that nobody is unwilling to respect/look out for the well-being of another. Of course, there are a few people everywhere who would take advantage of good intentions, but the vast majority of people here, like people everywhere else, are honestly just living their lives and every now and then need a bit of kindness from a stranger. A few examples: any time a pregnant woman, an elderly person, or anyone who looks to be in bad health gets on a bus, people leave seats immediately and offer them to the person, then stand the rest of the ride. A woman standing next to me on a street corner the other day tapped me on the shoulder and told me the "walk" signal had turned on when I had been distracted looking at my Spanish notebook. One of my first few days here I was waiting in line to buy a few things at a pharmacy and had gotten to the counter, when a man came and tried to put his things on the counter in front of mine- the woman behind me ordered him to go to the back and told the cashier that I was first. The other night when I was riding the bus home, a man got on and was about 15 centavos short to buy a ticket. A girl next to me had 20 and gave it to him, and he gave her the change, said thank you very much, and got where he needed to go.

One of the other things I love about the people here is the way they get to know each other. Most people will ask you questions after only knowing you for a few minutes than many in my culture wouldn't ask after talking to each other for a week. The conversation is very personal, and this might offend or bother some people- it took some getting used to on my part- but I'm enjoying taking it as an opportunity to get to know myself better. They ask you how you feel and how you think, they ask you why you think the things you do and how you came to think them, and they don't do it in a way that's critical or condescending. It's simply so that they can understand better the person you are, and add the understanding to their own perspectives. In the process it challenges you to understand your own perspective, being completely honest with yourself. In my opinion there are few things as important.

Marta

De la playa

Back in the city! My trip to the beach was certainly an interesting and fun few days, and a nice break from the hustle and noise of the capital. Mar del Plata is a small city located on Argentina's eastern coast, about 400 km/250 miles south of Buenos Aires. The difference between the general atmospheres there and here is noticeable almost as soon as you step onto the streets- much more relaxed, less noise and traffic, and none of the intersections have stop lights. Or stop signs. It's basically a free-for-all of drivers who speed down the road, then approach every intersection at about 20-30 mph to check for cross-traffic and screech to a stop just in time to avoid having their bumpers clipped. Unfortunately I forgot to take my camera charger, so I'll have to wait for my friends to upload their pictures, then I'll commandeer some to show you.

The best way to get to somewhere like Mar del Plata from the city is to take a microbus- a bus that holds about 50 people who pay around 300 pesos to sit in its large, cushioned, recline-able "semicama" seats, eat the complimentary snacks the bus line provides, and watch nice, family-friendly (or not) movies like "The Professional", "Taken", and "The Ides of March". Watching unbelievably dramatic things happen and people getting shot isn't exactly what I like to fill ten hours with, so I brought along my iPod. Wait, did I say ten hours? I did indeed. The traffic all the way to Mar del Plata was so heavy that the trip took an extra four hours. We finally stopped at a gas station about seven-and-a-half hours in, thankfully because we were all hungry.

The fourteen of us all shared three hotel rooms for three nights, and it was like a big slumber party. We went to the beach, which was completely packed with people (but not so much that we didn't get sun!) and it was so funny going into the water- people just wade and stand around in it, nobody really swims with a few exceptions, probably because the water there is so cold. With the sun beating down, though, it was quite refreshing. One of the things I really enjoyed about the beach was the wide variety of people and body types and the way that, no matter how a person looked, he or she was there, in his/her own skin and in a swimsuit, having a blast in the waves, completely comfortable. It was truly beautiful, and being there in the midst of it I don't think I've ever felt more beautiful and comfortable in my own skin.

The bus trip back only took about six and a half hours, which seemed downright short after the trip there. All in all it was a great trip- we discovered a great club where there was a cumbia band playing live two nights in a row, spent time soaking up some much-needed sun, ate at the 200-year-old bakery where the Argentine alfajor was born, and made some wonderful new friends.

For now I'll leave you with that story since my eyes refuse to stay open, and hopefully after some sleep will be back to give you more entertainment of better quality than tonight's post. Chau y buenas noches!

Buen Provecho

First of all, happy late Valentine's Day, everyone, and good evening and happy weekend!

I'm sorry about the lack of posts the past six days- between exploring the city, going to school, preparing for my first exam (which was yesterday),  and finding time for running and helping work out my program group's beach trip this weekend, the hours have flown by at an unbelievable pace! The past few days I've begun to know my area of the city much better, and I'm actually starting to feel like this is where I live. I'm living in Buenos Aires, Argentina. How cool is that? The past few days have been sultry, to put it nicely, but last night it rained, complete with thunder and lightning, which made today fresher and the city grateful.

If you have heard anything at all about Argentina, I'm sure you've heard something at some point about the quality of the meat. The tales don't lie. I have had the pleasure of eating good steak once thus far- a tender, juicy filet that had been cooked in malbec-marinated carmelized onion sauce and served with a potato puff pastry. I've also had chorizo (sausage) on two different occasions, one of which was the night recently when I partook of the family-style meat feast you see to your right. The way the chorizo is eaten is the best part about it. Around here, there is a basket of bread on the table at every chorizo meal. Be careful though- if you eat a piece of bread before the meat comes, you've just robbed yourself of a choripán. Choripán is the beautiful marriage of a dinner roll and a piece of chorizo, with chimichurri on top for extra flavor- chorizo + pan (bread)= choripán. I had never had chimichurri before coming to Buenos Aires, but let me tell you, it will forever be in my kitchen after this. Every restaurant or household puts its own unique twist on the recipe, and every one I've tried has been heavenly. They all include an olive oil base with all kinds of smoky, herby flavors, some with a slightly sweet or tart undertone, some more salty than others- basically, if you haven't eaten chimichurri, do it. It's good on everything, I promise. The restaurants that specialize in all kinds of meat-cooking are called parrillas, and the general term for a meat cook-out here is "asado". There is a parrilla generally every block or two on any of the busiest avenues, and so far I've been lucky enough to hit good ones. We'll see what other carnivorous wonders I discover in more of them as the trip progresses.

Another restaurant-related fact- the water here is perfectly drinkable and I fill my bottle from the tap daily, but almost every restaurant will refuse to serve "agua de la canilla" and tell you it's not filtered, it's not good, etc. My friends and I don't eat dinner out often because all of our families eat together at home most nights of the week, but on the Saturdays and special occasions we decide to find a good restaurant, we generally also decide to order a bottle or two of wine. House wine is always very reasonably priced, and when it's split between anywhere from 5 to 10 of us, we can each enjoy a glass or so. So, it follows that when the white wine-drinkers are with us, the wine comes in an ice-filled plastic or metal chiller. We've decided that, since we don't like the idea of spending 10-or-so pesos per bottle to have water with dinner, when we come to moments of great need, we put the melted ice in the wine chiller to good use. We order a few bottles between all of us first, but the combination of the flavors and the heat and humidity make it difficult to sit through a 2-3-hour meal and only drink a glass of water.

Another integral part of the Argentine lifestyle and cultural tradition is yerba mate. Mate is made from a blend of I'm not sure which herbs, but drinking it happens between the closest of friends and loved ones. The mate, dry, is put into the hollowed gourd (also called a "mate") until it nearly reaches the top. Mates are sold in abundance here- usually metal on the inside with an overlay of more metal or wood with a carving or design. After the herbs, the designated water-pourer (cebador) of the group pours hot, steaming water into the cup and lets the mate steep for a few seconds. Using a bombilla (straw) made of metal and with a built-in filter, each person takes the gourd, drinks the entirety of the water in it, and then passes it back to the cebador, who fills it with water for the next person. Everyone in the group takes a turn, each using the same bombilla and mate and a fresh addition of hot water. The flavor of mate takes a little getting used to, but for people who like strong coffee and tea, the result of the mostly-mate-part-water combination is something like a super-concentrated few sips of tea. It is very bitter, and some people like to add sugar, personally I like it plain- it also has enough caffeine to give the drinker a little boost. I'm on the lookout for a good mate spot to hole up and study in once the cooler weather starts to set in.

In other news, I have finally had my first alfajor, and today I was nearly robbed. An alfajor is something like two or three cake or soft cookie disks stacked on top of each other, layered with some kind of filling between, and the whole lot coated in chocolate. Sort of like a Hostess cupcake, only better and x50. The most common fillings are dulce de leche (cajeta if you've had it in Mexico), chocolate or white chocolate cream, or any of the above with peanut butter.  You can find them in any street kiosko (c-store/food stand), and there are too many brands of them to count. The confiterías (bakeries) also home-make them. Last night I decided to pay a visit to the kiosko a few doors down from my building and bought a Milka dulche de leche alfajor. It was delicious, and you can bet I'll be having another one from time to time.

Now to the almost-robbery- today after having gone to the Retiro bus terminal with my study abroad group to buy all our tickets for our trip tomorrow to Mar del Plata, the closest coastal and beach town, we took the subte back to our respective houses. It was one of the most crowded subte rides I've ever had- people packed like sardines and wedged in however they would fit. I wasn't paying much attention to the man who was standing in front of me until he started shifting through the people, acting like he wanted to get off at the next stop. About 10 seconds after he didn't in fact get off, I felt something sliding against my hip through the wall of my purse and looked down to see his hand reaching inside it. I jerked my bag away, and immediately after that we arrived at the next stop and he made a quick exit. The zipper had been closed, my hand over all of it except about two inches, my other arm with my books in it over the purse, and my eyes had been on the purse about 2 seconds before. Thankfully nothing was taken, and although I was shaken a bit, I'm also thankful I was able to learn just how easy it is to become someone's victim in a hectic situation without having to pay a hefty price. I will now be taking even more care than I was before with my belongings. If you ever pay a visit here, remember that the subte is the easiest place to be robbed. Even if it isn't crowded, keep your belongings close to you and under your eyes at all times.

My roommate and I have both had a brush with the pick-pocketers now, so hopefully our household is done with that. I probably won't be posting again for a few days because my group will be leaving for Mar del Plata tomorrow morning and returning on Tuesday, but I'll have more pictures and stories when I do! Have a happy, safe, and restful weekend!