Travel Guy

The Sign Off Post for Blogger

2010-05-12T20:36:00.001-03:00

Single tear. This will be my last blog post with Blogger. HOWEVER, this blog will continue with all of the previous posts available at WordPress. The new address is very similar, but notice the slight difference:

www.ttravelguy.wordpress.com

The reason that I have made the switch is to improve visual and functional aspects of my writing. For the next couple of weeks I'm going to be tweaking and improving the new blog, and adjusting to the new format. For this reason, it might seem like you've reached a new blog because the background, or template, has changed. But don't be alarmed, this is just me playing around with it until I find something I like.

For future reference, please follow me on the WordPress blog, as I will no longer blog with this format. The Twitter account remains the same, as well as the YouTube videos. Hope to see comments from you all soon.

Possible Changes to Travel Guy

2010-05-10T20:20:00.000-03:00

Hey to all of my faithful readers... Anyone?... Tumbleweed? Well anyway, there might be some changes to the blog coming up soon. I'm looking to expand on the presentation and display of the blog, or in other words, make it prettier and with more buttons. Over the weekend I set up a Weebly site after seeing my friend Ricardo's great looking Web site with them. Weebly allows you to set up a free site and has many more options than Blogspot.

This "new" Web site is totally under construction and has nothing on it yet, save the title Travel Guy and a picture. I thought I would be able to transfer this blog easily to the Weebly site, but it doesn't look like I'll be able to do that. I changed my web domain to redirect from this blog to that new site, so if you type in www.jon-brandt.com now, you will be redirected to that page. Don't be confused--this is still the Travel Guy Web site. In the meantime, just follow this same page and avoid www.jon-brandt.com.

I still want to improve this site and add more features to make it more enjoyable for everyone. I have a little experience with WordPress and know that it has many more options than Blogspot. I have also read that while it's pretty complicated, you can migrate all of your files from Blogger to WordPress without losing past posts. So in the next few days I'm going to be researching this more and trying to figure out if I can do it without cracking my brain. After all, I'm not a Web designer. If anyone out there has any knowledge of how to do this, I'm all ears. Til then, stay tuned for any updates.

Down to Chinatown

2010-05-08T18:36:00.000-03:00

I got the urge to eat some Chinese food and since we got paid this week, I was actually able to splurge and spoil myself a bit. I went up with Bryan to Belgrano this afternoon and though we got kind of a late start, it was still an appropriate time to eat once we made it up there. Actually, it was kind of funny because out plan was to meet on a street corner near Chinatown, but once I stepped onto the subway I saw him. Not only on the same train, but I walked into the same car as him.

Though the Chinatown here is small, it offers a world of different choices that otherwise don't really exist in Buenos Aires. There are other Chinese restaurants in the city, but they generally tend to suck, whereas those in Belgrano are actually good, even if they cost more. It's just a couple of blocks and we walked around first and entered a supermarket. Brian spent a year teaching in Korea and speaks a little Korean, so anytime he recognized something he pointed it out.

I wasn't planning on buying anything, but with his advice I wound up getting a bottle of soy sauce and some hot sauce. Since I've begun cooking with more vegetables and rice, this might be able to make my dishes more interesting. Next, we walked around outside some more and came across the place where I bought some fried chicken on a stick back in February, the only other time I'd been there. I had to get it again, and once again it was simply delicious. A bit pricey for sure at $7 pesos, but well worth it for a change of pace.

I probably could have stopped there, but I had the idea of a whole meal in my head, so we walked to a restaurant with cheaper prices and sat down to see the Celtics/Cavaliers game from last night on TV. Brian wasn't that hungry and only got an appetizer got I got a spicy chicken with vegetables and rice dish. It was actually spicy, and though my mouth was on fire, I was in heaven. Best of all was there was plenty left to take home for dinner. The meal that keeps on giving.

We headed over to another mega supermarket and there I found something odd: peanut butter. It basically doesn't exist here, and apparently this Skippy originated in Asia, before coming to Argentina. I didn't get any, but I liked the labels and if one day I get really homesick for a PB & J, I know where I can get my fix. So at the end of a short afternoon, I'd say it was pretty successful indeed.

Drunken Brawls in the Subway During Rush Hour Are a Bad Idea

2010-05-07T21:15:00.002-03:00

Here's a cute story: So I get on the packed rush hour C line Subte to head home with my iPod in. The train starts moving and I can see the guy right in front of me is drinking an open can of Budweiser and pushing the man next to him. Anyone who is drinking an open beer on the train in rush hour is probably just asking for trouble, especially since a cop just happened to be on this train. But he doesn't say anything, for the moment.

I can see this is not looking good, and suddenly people packed around the two men are starting to yell at them. Then the punches start flying and with as little space as there was to begin with, a circle is formed around these two knuckleheads. Everyone is yelling and I keep thinking, well the cop will be here any second. But this cop obviously had better things to do. A random person tries to get in between them as the swaying of the train knocks us all around, and finally the cop comes over and with a "that'll do, boys" pep talk, stands in between the fighters.

The one who originally had a beer is bleeding from the mouth and gives the "I'm going to kill you once you get off the train" gesture. For a moment everyone is in shock and doesn't move. The train reaches a stop, no one moves, and we go on. Then a guy next to me starts to call out the police officer, saying he's a terrible role model. A civilian had to break up the fight while he stood watching, and he should be ashamed.

The cop starts to get in his face, but not how I would expect. Well, first of all, if a fight ever broke out in front of a cop on a train in the States, both parties would be taken off immediately and arrested. Then, if someone yelled at or threatened an officer, they too would be arrested. Here, the cop got into the guys' face to quietly whisper, "What do you want me to do, arrest one and not the other?" Good law enforcement, folks. That's what keeps thugery down.

Now the whole train is against this cop, and everyone from this young idealist to elderly women are yelling at him. I can see the fear in his eyes and why he did nothing at first. He's clearly outnumbered, and without backup to help beat everyone up, this guy is toast. His best bet was to just stay out of it from the start. But now he's encircled by an angry mob that wants better policing and two guys who still want to kill each other.

But my stop comes up and there's no way I'm sticking around to see this sinking ship hit the bottom. I wonder who made it out alive from that whole debacle. I'll check the news later tonight.

Getting Out of the Office

2010-05-07T21:02:00.000-03:00

Yesterday morning I was surprised to come in and find that I had been invited to the country for the day. Not that it was a day off by any means, but at the very least I would be getting into the field again. A large group from Canada was ending their tour and was going to spend the afternoon in the Pampas at Estancia Santa Susana. Since this was a large group and is similar to the kinds of programs that my company runs, the idea was for me to see the event firsthand and then be able to write a good review on it.

Though the morning was gray and rainy, the afternoon cleared up with bright blue skies so that by the time we left the office after 2 pm, it was turning into a perfect day. We drove about an hour and 15 minutes until reaching the estancia, where things were still being set up before the group arrived. First I walked around taking photos of the place and the decorations. Once the group arrived, my task was to stand by the door and show people to the bathrooms if they looked lost.

They were always kind of surprised at how well I speak English, and I'd have to ruin it by saying, "Well I can't take too much credit, I'm an American." One day I'd like to say, "Oh thanks, I was educated in the United States," which is not a lie. I did find, however, that it took me a minute to figure out what I had to say in English, and at some points I almost pronounced words incorrectly in the same way as Argentinians might. The truth is that I think in Spanish almost as much as I do in English now, and while that's great for the second language, it's not so great for the first.

A nice part of the day was I got to see some gaucho horse skill demonstrations, including the taming of wild horses and a game called "Carrera de Sortija," which is when three gauchos race on horseback and with just a pen try to catch a finger-sized ring. The winner gets to choose a woman from the crowd to kiss. I continued to take photos and once the sun had set we went inside for the dinner. Of course it was a feast with all kinds of meat, tango and folklore performers.

Once the dinner was over we had to take everything down, and didn't get to the office until after midnight. So by the time I got home it was 1 am, and I still had to be in the office in the morning. Today was a tiring day, as a result. But in the end, it was another great day taking advantage of working at a travel agency. I mean, how many other foreigners get to mingle with gauchos on the job?

The 10th Time is Not a Charm

2010-05-05T21:54:00.000-03:00

Today was the 10th time I went to the Registro Civil to get my DNI citizenship card for Argentina. But you know, I like the place so much that I think I'll be going back two or three more times. This was time different in that one of my bosses came with me to help do the talking. While my Spanish is very good, I lack certain words, phrases, and general intonation to clearly get what I want sometimes. This is where knowing locals comes in handy. To try and increase my odds I wore a tie, which in retrospect was as useful as trying in the first place.

We got there right on time, 1:30 pm, and cued up with the rest of the city. After sitting there for just a half hour, Matias told me that the woman at the desk trying to get her DNI was Brazilian and the staff was making fun of her and not helping. I explained that the exact same thing happened to me the last time I was there, and that's why he was there. Just then my name was called and we went up. It should have been cut and dry, right?

Matias explained that I'm the son of an Argentine, I have all of my papers in order, and I have the right to citizenship and need my DNI. Immediately the girl behind the counter (the same from last time I think) looked at my inscriptions papers and said she had no idea. My boss then answered back explaining again when suddenly the girl raised her voice to yell. He yelled back explaining that they discriminated against the Brazilian and were doing the same to me and it was unfair. This is how having the local to help me really added an edge, because suddenly they realized that we weren't going to just walk away with our tails between our legs.

They had no interest in dealing with it so they sent us to their boss, a woman who I recognized from one of my visits in January. I remembered her being helpful and considerate, a rarity at the Registro. She listened to Matias and then went through the steps as I showed all of the necessary documents. She went behind a door, coming back to ask if I was the son of a diplomat. For a second I considered whether or not this would jump me to the front of the line, but realized there was no point. Sorry, just a regular shmo.

She came back 5 minutes later, but with bad news. Here's what I now needed. My original birth certificate with an official stamp (the copy I had was not sufficient). That birth certificate from New York state will have to be requested and mailed to me as soon as possible. I also needed the birth certificate translated into Spanish by an agency in Argentina (wouldn't matter that I'm a translator, obviously). A copy of residency, which means I'll need to take my apartment contract to the police station to get "certified." On top of that, it's recommended that I ask the Argentine Consulate in New York for a new copy of my inscription papers, as the ones that I received over a year ago are starting to fade after so much use. And hey, since I might have aged a few decades since I took those 4x4 photos in August, it might not hurt to get those updated, just to be safe.

On top of that, the copy of my mom's birth certificate that I went through such a struggle to get in January is only valid for 6 months. Why? I guess there's the possibility of being born again. Since that will be expired by the time of my next appointment in June (one week late), I need to go in 10 business days to pick up a new, exactly the same photocopy of her birth certificate. A lot changes on a birth certificate from the 1950's in 6 months, after all.

This is a headache, but at the very least I had the help of someone who can understand this system a bit better than I can. On top of that we got a no bullshit answer to exactly what I need that I no longer have. Now, if it all falls together perfectly in the next month (fingers crossed) and I don't have my DNI being processed after the 12th visit, we'll have a serious beef with the Registro that might requite local TV news.

Most importantly, what is needed above all else, is PATIENCE.

Anuva Wine Tasting Review

2010-05-04T19:26:00.000-03:00

I'm happy to announce that my article on the Anuva Wine Tasting from a few weeks back is now live on Argentina's Travel Guide. You can find the article here. This article goes more in depth than my previous blog post on the topic. Enjoy.

Ecuador in Retrospect, Again

2010-05-03T21:22:00.000-03:00

I've been updating my companies information on the countries that we sell trips in. This project has taken me through our 6 most frequently used locations: Argentina, Brazil, Uruguay, Chile, and Peru. Today I started on Ecuador. Though quite far away from Buenos Aires and really only used by us for the Galapagos Islands, I'm updating all of the technical information and weather data.

This means that I'm doing heavy research from the CIA World Factbook, one of my favorite sources for information on any country in the world. You're not getting Top Secret information, but you're just getting incredibly accurate and bi-weekly updated facts, which is really helpful when doing international research. So I've been thumbing through things like population, area, and literacy rates, among other things. But Ecuador is slightly different than the other countries in that our files on it basically didn't exist, so I'm piecing it together not only with this information, but from my own experience.

It's harder to do this because as I write I have to keep in mind who my audience is, and talking about the safety on bus trips is irrelevant because these clients will never take a nice bus from the coast. Yet I'm still adding information on Safety and Emergencies, Food and Water, and Taxis. So it only makes sense to be thorough and include what I feel and know to be true. After all, what else was the point of living there for a year if I can't even walk away and share my experience.

I spent a few solid hours on this one document, and after finishing it and looking back I noticed that it all seemed to be negative. An objective reader might think that Ecuador is in a total state of turmoil. From a macro perspective from someone without personal experience there, that might be the only way you can see it. I feel the need to include that it is a dangerous country and you need to practice caution. I list tips on how to stay safe even if that makes it seem dangerous at the same time. I talk about past, recent, and current economic and governmental issues that contribute to a lack of stability.

This isn't building up a story and it's not hiding the truth, it's merely stating the facts, which is what any journalist should do. But I get the feeling that this is bad for business, especially tourism. I don't know how I can relate in such simple words, next to warnings about crime, that it's truly an amazing country and I had an excellent experience there. How could I describe 11 months in a couple of lines? Yes, it is dangerous, and yes you need to be careful. But the juice is worth the squeeze.

In any case, those who would be traveling to Ecuador would most likely be going straight to the Galapagos from another Latin American country on a whirlwind tour, and not travel up and down the spine of the Andes as I did so often, or roast in an overcrowded bus on the coast to a beach town. I'm keeping the audience in mind, but giving them the benefit of my knowledge. Is Ecuador that dangerous? All of the information would seem to give that edge. I need to find a way, however, to fit in what an incredible country it is, and how it's worth visiting. That will be my challenge tomorrow.

Fear and Loathing at the Annual Book Fair

2010-05-02T18:00:00.000-03:00

Some things just go together naturally, for example: spaghetti and meat balls, beer and pretzels, or baseball and sunflower seeds. Let me tell you what doesn't go together well: hangovers and book fairs. They shouldn't even be in the same sentence or allowed on the same block. The idea of sluggishly moving around after killing brain cells while looking for a way to increase brain power is a contrast, which unlike positive and negative ions, does not attract.

It wasn't the idea to go to the book fair hungover, but options were limited, I suppose. I wanted to go to the fair yesterday, but wound up at a different one altogether, and last night was a friend's birthday party at a bar, from which I didn't get home until about 6 am. The morning and afternoon were so beautiful and sunny that I couldn't just stay indoors. I felt too guilty, especially knowing that these nice days are running out. So I amped up some strength after a sandwich and got in line with the thousands of other people outside my door heading to the Rural Society, just a few blocks away.

Passing by my apartment building I thought that I lived here but wasn't home right now. If I wasn't in line for a book fair I'd be home right now. Fair enough. I wanted to go with someone else but no one was around, so I quietly waited in line as families around me spoke to each other. By the time we got to the gate the father told his son it was 30 minutes from the time we got in line. Not bad, all things considered. It was $15 pesos to get in, and it was my first time going to the Rural Society, which I can see from my balcony.

The Rural Society traditionally held cattle and horse events, and while they still do, they have also branched out into other expositions. This is the 36th Annual World Book Fair, which contains books from all over the world (mostly in Spanish), as well as other products related to reading. Authors occasionally come and you can meet them, and other presentations are given. Once inside I was lost among the crowds of pushing people and stall after stall with books. I had no idea where I could find one I liked.

The idea is you pay to get in and then books inside are cheaper than in a bookstore, but a lot of the bookstores have stalls there, and it seems to me that they charge the same amount. This even, which lasts from April 22-May 10, runs most days of the week, but the larger crowds come on the weekends, for obvious reasons. First I listened about some book fair in Frankfurt this year with translated books, and then moved on to check out as many booths as possible. But I had no idea where to go, and there was so much to see.

The crowds were fairly obnoxious, vying for space to see what cheap books were available. There were standard deals of 1 book for $10, $15, or 3 for $30, etc. I was interested in getting one book in Spanish and one in English. After maybe a half hour I finally found a book in Spanish that I was interested in and was cheap. Next I walked around looking for English books, but much to my chagrin couldn't find them.

I did find the U.S. Embassy stall which just had a few books, mostly the "This is Why the United States is a Good Country" kind of books, so nothing I was looking for. I was all set to leave and finally I found a place with all English books. Just for the hell of it I opened up a grammar book and on the first random page I flipped to I found a badly translated sentence. I checked the price of a book and it was $90 pesos, and they were all about that price. No way was I walking out of there with an English book. I was hungry, thirsty, and tired. It was time to go, and by this point the beautiful sunny day had turned to overcast and chilly. Quittin' time for the book fair. Until next year, perhaps.

The Independent Book Fair

2010-05-02T14:07:00.000-03:00

I had wanted to go to the big annual Book Fair at La Rural yesterday, so I was looking for people to go with. In the search, my friend Pablo mentioned that he was going to a different book fair by the University of Buenos Aires. This was an independent book fair with different, maybe less legitimate books. Since the other book fair is going on for a couple of weeks I went with Pablo.

The independent book fair was an interesting mix of hippie-punksters and anarchists selling everything from comics and Communist literature to vegan empanadas. It was a really eclectic group of people, and as usual it was somehow tied into politics. In the background was the annoying sound of two people performing poetry in a skit, yelling into microphones so fast that I didn't catch any of it.

Pablo and I walked around for a bit perusing the various books, which for the most part were really just photocopies of books or self-published paperbacks with the authors there. I bought a $3 peso piece of pie with coconut and dulce de leche while Pablo got a beer, and we kept running into people he knew. The fair was in a parking lot, and all around the spots were stalls with vendors selling books. They were all friendly and insisted we pick up a book and check it out at our leisure.

We made our way over to an artists' stand and were really impressed by the prints we saw. Though I don't usually buy art, mainly because I have no where stable to put it nor the extra money, I saw two prints that I really enjoyed and purchased. Ideally I'll still have them in good condition when I head back to the States someday and will be able to put them on my wall. Better is the fact that it's "authentic" Argentine art, rather than some touristy picture of tango from San Telmo.

There was a concert by Plaza Italia last night and I thought I'd be able to hear it from my apartment, but I couldn't, and thus missed out on it waiting to hear the music. Though the lines are ridiculous and spreading past my building, I think I'll try to check out the fair today. I just need to get out of the house and moving.

May Day, May Day

2010-05-01T12:04:00.000-03:00

Today is Labor Day for most of the world, and unfortunately it fell on a Saturday this year. It's beautiful outside right now, and the forecast says it's going to reach 26 degrees Celsius. That's a might fine autumn day. I'm still at home for the moment though, thinking about what to do for the day. Most of the people I know seem to be out of the city for the day. What I want to do is go to the big book fair right down the street from me at the Rural Society. Apparently you have to pay to get in but once there books are really cheap and sometimes you can meet the author.

Last night I decided to have a little dinner party, if for nothing else than because I don't get to eat dinner with people very often. A few weeks ago my friend Tom had a dinner party and I said I'd return the favor by making some meat loaf, which I just recently learned how to cook. So Tom and a couple other people came over. Before we got started though, I was pre-cooking for about an hour and a half.

It takes a lot of time and dedication to put a full-on meal together, but I feel like it's worth it in the end. It's kind of therapeutic to do serious cooking for friends. Chopping and mincing onions, peeling potatoes, and making sure you have just the right amount of spices all take time and a careful eye. So it's not something you can do easily like popping something in the microwave and forgetting about it.

Last night was the first time I attempted to make mashed potatoes, and it came out really well, though it was actually a mixture, kind of an invention of my own. I put together potatoes, pumpkin, and carrots. I'll have to think of some clever name for it. Puré a la Jon or something. I had to kind of estimate with the meat loaf because the recipe was for half of the amount and I have no measuring cups or anything like that. But it all worked out nicely and I just checked it occasionally in the oven as some cauliflower was sauteing on the stove top.

Last but not least I put some garlic bread in the oven for a few minutes until it was nice and crispy. And voila, it was all ready to serve. My guests really enjoyed the food, as did I, and it gave me a good feeling. It's nice to know that you can prepare a decent meal, especially when you mainly live off of easy things like pasta, pizza, and sandwiches. With a bit of time and some extra money, however, you can really put together a nice feast.

The only problem was that the food was too good, and there was just about nothing left at the end of it. There is a little left over mashed-whatever, but only because I made so much to begin with. I'll take that as compliments to the chef. Next time I'll have to try another dish and hopefully find similar results.

Argentine Cold Remedy

2010-04-28T21:22:00.000-03:00

I'm sick again with another cold, this being the second cold in two weeks. So obviously I'm not too happy about it, but it's just something you have to deal with. I haven't got any real cold medicine in the house. The only pills I have are Argentine allergy pills that I mistakenly bought two weeks ago and some Advil. So at the office today the guys told me to go to the pharmacy and buy a certain type of medicine. But when they told me how much it cost I said no thanks. Even if I wanted to pay that much, I didn't have enough on me.

So I asked the pharmacist for the next best thing and she pointed to the counter, and I picked out the cheapest thing I could find. Back at the office the guys were laughing as they told me that they misunderstood what I was saying and had recommended an allergy pill, as if that was what I needed more of. Then they told me the old trustworthy remedy. Get a good steam going in the shower and drink two glasses of whiskey. That will solve everything. It's that kind of advice that takes me back to my Ecuador days, when a random cure would be recommended, and occasionally work, even if only temporarily.

Then they continued joking by saying that what I really needed was a woman to cook and clean for me. That would make it all better. I think these guys are on to something.

Victory Gloating

2010-04-26T21:34:00.000-03:00

I'm one of the only guys in my office that likes the Boca Juniors, even though they're one of the most popular soccer teams in Argentina. But before I go any deeper into this, let me just clarify that I have to like one team, so I like the Boca Juniors because my mom got me their jersey when she was here a few years ago. I didn't even know who they were when she gave me the shirt, and it sat in my closet for a few years. So I'm not exactly a real fan.

On Sunday night a big rivalry game between Boca and San Lorenzo was played. San Lorenzo is another popular team, and this was a big game. A couple of my coworkers are San Lorenzo fans, and one of them is always talking about San Lorenzo. They never cease to bust my chops about liking Boca, but I don't mind and if anything, it makes me feel like I fit in a little better. I watched the entire game because I knew I'd have to talk about it today. Boca won 2-0, and of course when both goals were scored I was looking away from the TV.

Sure enough, first thing in the morning when my coworker comes into the office and says hello, I can see the little embarrassed-don't say anything face. A huge grin breaks across my face and he starts to laugh, saying "What are you smiling at?" "How'd the game go last night?" I ask. And for the rest of the day we bust his chops, and we're all laughing about it. I feel like one of the guys today, and it reminds me of back home with a group of buddies making fun of someone else for liking a different team or player. It reminds me of just being a normal guy instead of the foreigner.

Despite the fact that Boca is having a lousy year, San Lorenzo is probably better this season, and a Boca loss later in the week will get me just as much mocking, for today I'm able to strut around and gloat about the big win on Sunday. And I don't even know anything about this sport.

Upside-down Weather

2010-04-24T17:07:00.000-03:00

I know I've written about the weather being different here before. First it was winter when it should have been summer, then it was spring instead of fall, then summer instead of winter. And now we're nearly full circle. It's late April and I'm cold, it's gray and ugly outside, and I keep seeing messages from friends back home about how beautiful the weather is and how they're getting ready for the good season to come. Yeah, I'm jealous.

No matter what, I'm too Northern Hemispherian to accept what my eyes are telling me. I see the calendar and I just can't accept that it's cold like this. Granted, Boston is no city to guarantee warm weather in April, but at least you keep that grain of salt in mind, knowing that it will in fact get better. But here, it's only going to get worse for the foreseeable future. The other thing that makes it so difficult for me is the school system.

While I'm no longer a student or teacher, I've always been programed to see the fall as the beginning of a school year and the spring as the end. But a cycle has just started for students here in March, and instead of ending in July or so when it's hot out, it will be the middle of winter. It just kind of confuses my body. It gets to the point where I look at the calendar and it means nothing to me. It's just another date and I'm only looking until the end of the week or the end of the month. But the general concept that June, July, and August will mean barbecues, beaches, and outdoor parties, is now totally gone. And honestly, I don't know if I can ever get that concept back because in the back of my mind I'll always keep in mind that it's cold somewhere else.

But at least today they are turning the heat on in my building, so depending on how they do things here, it might feel like summer in my apartment pretty soon anyway. Judging off of my Argentinian grandparents apartment, which has always been far too hot, I'm hoping that's a trend kept up here. A long shot, I know.

An Air of Change o Nuevos Rumbos

2010-04-24T14:00:00.000-03:00

Maybe I'm just being overly optimistic, but even with the change of the weather and the onset of the cold, it feels like new life is being breathed into my life here in Buenos Aires. I've passed by the 8 month mark on my time in this country, and just like I knew it would be from my experience in Ecuador, those first months were very difficult. It takes time to get adjusted to a new culture, make friends, and know enough about the place that you're living in to at least try to hold a relevant conversation with a local about politics, humor, or sports.

And in the last couple of weeks I feel like a corner has really been turned. Aside from simply getting better at the language and being here long enough to understand the politics better (though it's hardly ever understood), my social and work life is improving as well. While at first it was hard to meet people and it seemed like Argentinians just downright didn't want to get to know me, that slowly, albeit very slowly, changed. And now, it seems that doors are opening, if not blowing off. There is something to be said about a person wanting to get to know someone who has been in their country for a few months as opposed to a few weeks. There's stability in that.

The high season for tourism is over, and as we enter winter, the business chaos of office life will ease up a bit, and though there will still be work to do, it will be a more relaxed environment. I think with the relaxed season it has allowed other coworkers to ease up a bit too. As a result, we're joking around more and having a more communicable relationship which we didn't have for many months. It could also be that I've finally eased up a bit too, however. I won't deny that I've been a bit timid at work, but I think that's understandable if not acceptable.

With the colder weather I find less of a desire to go out and explore the city on the weekends, pushing me into a more "local" lifestyle--that is, I'm not acting like a tourist at every available chance. Will just hanging out at home on a day off be better in the long run? Who knows? But at the very least it gives more of a natural feel to the life here. So the next little hill to get over will be the issue with my DNI, which I'm still in pursuit of, and finding a balance with my overpriced apartment and constant penny pinching. On the plus side, I just learned how to make a relatively cheap Korean dish that uses rice, cheap meat, and vegetables. So maybe rice will be entering my typical diet of pizza, pasta, and sandwiches.

Read This Before Driving Through Patagonia!

2010-04-23T22:09:00.000-03:00

My latest article has been published on Argentina's Travel Guide. This article is an advice column on driving through Patagonia, which I did with my parents back in January, which seems like years ago by now. You can find the article here. Spread the word to anyone you know who might be driving through Patagonia soon--it just might help them out.

Wine Tasting with Anuva Wines

2010-04-19T21:51:00.000-03:00

On Saturday night I was invited to a private wine tasting in Las Cañitas by Daniel Karlin, founder and owner of Anuva Wines. Anuva is a wine distribution company which sends high quality boutique Argentine wines to 32 states in the U.S. and also hosts small wine tastings here in Buenos Aires. My goal was to experience the wine tasting and write a review for Argentina's Travel Guide. Like I always manage to do, I showed up too early, so I took a quick stroll around the block and saw how lovely and quiet the area was. This was definitely the right atmosphere for a refined wine tasting.

We went upstairs with the couple from Dallas who was there for the wine tasting, and began with the presentation. Already on the table were the five glasses waiting to be filled and a plate delicately prepared with the pairings of food. I've been to wine tastings before in Sicily and in Mendoza, but this was different. Rather than being rushed through a distillery with a guide who doesn't fully reach fluent status, we were in Karlin's home, and we were quickly made to feel like old pals. Karlin is actually an American expat, so aside from his perfect English, he had a different perspective to give us for restaurants, politics, and culture. This isn't a lesson that should be taken for granted, and to be honest I think it's one of the best and most distinguishing qualities of this experience.

We tried our five wines and ate our five foods. My favorite was definitely the San Gimignano Malbec Roble, which to me just had this buttery taste that made me feel warm and content. I easily could have had an entire bottle of it, and with any luck one day soon I'll get a bottle for myself. Of course, the other bottles were also excellent, with two whites and two additional reds.

My only regret is that I wasn't aware of this wine tasting when I first arrived to Argentina. It really was helpful and insightful for those who aren't wine experts, let alone those who've got extensive knowledge of boutique wineries in Argentina. Even after living here eight months and learning so much about the wine here, I didn't feel like anything discussed was old news. The history of the labels, the production, and the explanation of why this country produces such excellent wine went with the tasting just as much as the delicious food did.

Now, while the tasting costs U$40, I won't say it's overpriced. Let me explain. To me, U$40 is a hefty price for most things, but that's because I live here making an Argentine salary and getting charged for things in US Dollars. I live as cheaply as possible. But if you're traveling through the country and really want to try good wine but don't know where to start, I wholeheartedly recommend this activity. Do the right thing and don't just settle on the most expensive bottle at the restaurant. For 40 bucks you get a hell of a value, not to mention personalized service and recommendations for later on as well.

Don't just take my word for it though. Anuva's reviews on TripAdvisor speak for themselves. Check out this wine tasting in Buenos Aires and let me know what your thoughts are.

Lighting Up the Night Sky

2010-04-18T20:11:00.002-03:00

It was supposed to rain all day but instead we had a beautiful and warm autumn day. But as dusk fell the sky opened up without warning. It started slowly with an electrical burst of lightning coming in from the river. Then came the thunder and the heavy rains. Next was the hail. Here's the only good shot that came out, with the night sky lit up.

UPDATE: This picture was posted on Clarin's Web site tonight. That's hail.

You Know You've Been in BA a Long Time When...

2010-04-18T12:13:00.000-03:00

Last night was sort of an early night, and by early night I mean we were leaving the club at 3:30 am. It's kind of a rare thing to be leaving the place just as tons of people are showing up and the line is forming. The music was good, we were talking to some girls, but me and the guys had decided that we'd seen enough. It wasn't a full night out anyway.

But thinking back on these kinds of nights always amazes me. How on earth did I get to the point where I look at the clock and think how early it is, when in fact it's very early morning? The night started with a wine tasting with Anuva Wines, which I'll write about in depth in another piece. The tasting was at 6 pm and by the time I left at 8:30 pm, five wines later and with a bit of a buzz going, I went home and what did I do? Well, if this was the United States, I could have either met up with friends right then and began the night or gone to a bar right off.

We live in Argentina, so things are a little different. I went home and took a little nap. Then I wrote a review about the wine tasting. Later, I made some mate to wake myself up and ate a few snacks. I started talking to some friends online, and by 11:30 pm I was getting ready to meet up with a couple of the guys I know here. Over time you can adjust to anything, and I've definitely reached the point at which a porteño lives by--that is to say, awake for almost the entire day. They just don't like to waste time sleeping.

On the rare occasion in college that I was awake around 3 am my body was destroyed the next day. I'd probably sleep until 1 pm and then be useless the next day. And keep in mind that hangovers get worse with age. I went to bed around 4 am last night after all was told. This morning I woke up around 10:30 am and stayed in bed until 11, but feel fine. The main difference is also in the way we drink here. Last night, apart from the wine tasting earlier on, I only had three beers. This is partly because of money, but also because in order to last the whole night you can't be wasted in one hour. On the contrary, back home the idea is to drink as much as possible, so if you reach 3 am it means you've probably had 10-12 beers by that point just to keep pace.

At least that's the way it was anyway. This kind of lifestyle can't sustain itself, obviously. If you go out like this too frequently you'll just waste your body, but doing so once in a while is normal for the youth in Buenos Aires. I stayed in Friday night taking care of the last day of a cold, and on Saturday I went out with the guys. But this is by no means a five day a week excursion for me. The main difference that I can see is that in the United States you might head out at 7 or 8 pm and be home by 1 or 2 am. Here, you follow a similar time line but later, so you leave around midnight or 1 am and get home at 5 or 6 am. The early night nap is essential, as well as a late dinner.

I fear the day when I go home to a Puritan Boston, where people are wasted by 11 pm and bars stop serving at 1 am. It's like seeing Paris and then returning home to the farm. Again, I'll eventually get used to it again, but I feel like a bitter part of me will always be complaining that just as we are getting home people are finishing dinner and heading out in Buenos Aires, and they aren't even hours behind. One day, anyway.

Digits

2010-04-16T21:48:00.000-03:00

I found my old Ecuadorian cell phone number today, which is kind of ironic because just a couple of days ago it made me sad to realize that I could no longer remember it. The way I found it was kind of random actually, because I was at work. I had written in to the office while still living in Cuenca and there I found my information with the old address, phone number, and even the email I'd written. Now after even more immersion, I could see where I'd made mistakes with my Spanish and it made me blush to myself.

There was all of the old information, which was new information last year. I lived on Mariano Cueva y Juan Jaramillo. And the cell phone number, which survived the hijacking even though the original phone didn't, was still there. (I actually still have the second phone I bought in Ecuador and use it to this day). In my head I said the number as I said it a hundred times to friends in that country. Cero nueve cinco-cuatro ocho seis-uno uno cuatro. On the rarer occasion that I was giving it to an English speaker, it would simply be 095-486-114.

I guess what made it sadder to lose the memory of the number wasn't so much that I'd forgotten something special about that place, but it was like losing a part of myself. That number was almost like an identity--a part of the life that I had there. And though the phone itself didn't get nearly as much use as my phone back in the United States, it was a part of my way into the culture. Not just any gringo has a cell phone in Ecuador. It showed that I was there to stay for a while, and people were more open to that idea.

As the year went on and friends of mine started to leave the country, I began to take their numbers out of the phone book one by one until it was a slim list. And eventually I took them all out when I went home, and I have to imagine my number was taken out of the phones of those who stayed behind. But I wish I'd left those numbers now that I think about it. At the very least it would have been another little memory of my life there. Proof that I was able to rack up however many friends and mix into the life there. But in any case, the number is now back, and now that it's on the Internet, it will always be there for me to look back at.

A Cup of Tea on a Rainy Day

2010-04-15T19:54:00.003-03:00

Today was a rainy and cold one, with the thermometer reaching 15ºC (59ºF). It’s a raw cold and a shock to the system, with the first of its kind this season. But we’ll get used to it eventually, whether we want to or not. I was sipping some tea and the warm scent drifted up quickly into my nostrils. Holding the mug with the quick burn on the fingers and a slight adjustment so that my sweater sleeve grabbed the handle, my mind went elsewhere.

How many years ago was it now? Three or four? The year was…2007. We were in Dublin and had stopped into a café with the promise of getting out of the cold February rain. Who the hell goes to Dublin in February anyway? But we had a few extra days off from classes in Spain and took the advantage to visit another country. Back when doing that sort of thing was so easy to do and the cost of a flight for €20 looked like a bargain.

I guess it was towards the end of our stay there and we had seen most of the things we wanted to, so we were just walking around and killing time when Dorothy saw this cozy little hole with muffins in the window, comfortable-looking chairs and bright lights—a complete contrast to the gray and drab of an Irish February day. We ordered our teas and muffins and sat down. I don’t remember exactly what we talked about, though it was a slow paced and say-something-when-you-want-to kind of conversation.

Dorothy grabbed her mug by both hands and held it tightly, saying she loved to have a tea or coffee on cold days and just grab the mug. The heat from the drink instantly went into her hands and through her body, warming her up. I tried but quickly stopped as the convection hurt me too much. This method wasn’t for me, and I’d just as soon stick to warmer clothing and heating, I thought.

We sat in the café for maybe an hour and then went back out into the cold and rain to finish off our trip. I don’t know how many times, or if I’ve ever though about that moment since it happened, but today it came back to me with the whiff of camomile tea. Three years and I still can’t hold the mug tight. But for a couple of minutes I had a firm grasp on that vivid memory until like the heat from a porcelain mug, it slowly faded away.

First Cold of the Season

2010-04-13T21:13:00.000-03:00

Ugh, I'm sick and just want to stay in bed for days. This is the first time I've gotten sick in this upcoming cold weather season. This doesn't count my bad cold while traveling through Patagonia in January. That was the summer, after all. But this cold started out of no where on Friday night as I took it easy with a movie at home. It continued and is a sneezy, runny nose mess.

It's not even that cold yet, and though today was nasty and rainy, the weather has been pretty fair. Still, as I've written before, Buenos Aires won't be getting as cold or miserable as Boston does in the winter. So I'm hopeful that this will mean I won't get as sick as I used to get in New England. Of course, it doesn't really matter where you are in the world when a string of colds or flues go around. But anyway, for now it just means taking it easy at home and trying to get better.

A Difference in Falls

2010-04-11T19:06:00.000-03:00

It's nearly mid-April now, and we're well into the fall. It's weird for me to this of it like this, of course, because for the majority of my life this time of year was the spring. Or, being from Boston, it was later winter. I think with things being flipped, it would be something similar to mid-October back home. This means that the days are shorter, it's chillier, and the leaves have begun changing into luminous shades of red, gold, and orange.

But it's not exactly going quite like that. In other parts of Argentina you'll definitely see foliage, and I think even Mendoza gets a fair share of foliage that compares to New England. But on the other hand, I believe that Buenos Aires is about equidistant from the equator as Washington D.C. is. Thus, that dramatic change in colors and temperature is not quite as prevalent.

I miss that kind of fall. It always sets you up for football games and hot chocolate, or failing that, primes you for the Halloween and Thanksgiving holidays which breath life back in after the summer time outings have ended. This week was a bit warmer than the last, and today was another beauty. People are taking advantage of the sunshine while they can, filling up parks for one last hoorrah before it's too cold to go out. As for me, I've put the running shoes on the shelf for the time being and have accepted that I'm now going to hibernate until the spring. It's unfortunate too, as I had been getting faster and stronger recently.

With the shorter days and colder weather, things will change for sure. As with other colder climates, people tend to stay in doors and not go out much in the winter. It's just too cold or gray or rainy. This will limit the amount of things I do in the city for sure, but will also set me up to have many things to do when the spring rolls around months from now. And it's not all totally over anyway. Each season brings its own difference and distinction. I have yet to experience the majority of the Buenos Aires winter, as I arrived at the end of it in August. Who knows, maybe we'll even get a snow day, and I can show these greenhorns how we deal with it in the north.

Transportation Woes in Buenos Aires

2010-04-07T21:30:00.001-03:00

Man on man, today was a mess for public transportation. For me anyway. I had the news on this morning like I do every day, keeping an eye out for any word about serious traffic problems. There was nothing eye grabbing, so I went down to the Subte as usual. Once there, however, I discovered that service was "interrupted." It doesn't mean that it's stopped altogether, but you'll definitely get to work late.

It's important to always have a Plan B for transportation here, but I'd already swiped my card and didn't want to waste the $1.10. The train finally moved, but at each stop spend 5 minutes idling. Four stops in at Pueyrredon, everyone got off as word got down that the subway would no longer move. I followed the mass of people slowly trudging upstairs and saw a police officer handing out pieces of paper.

I thought it would be a complimentary ride on the subway, but instead found that it was a permission slip for work. It had to be a joke. This cop, who was more of a hall monitor keeping people moving while they yelled in disgust, was giving an excuse to our bosses for our late arrivals. Were we the children or were they?

Now, I understand that buses and trains break down from time to time. It happens, and I myself have been on a handful of trains in Boston that have broken down. But when they did, the T service always had buses ready to take us to the next stop and make up for it. And that was over the course of my life in Boston. Here, they provided no alternative transportation. In the 7 months I've been living here (and really just 3 months since I frequently use the Subte) the train breaking down is more of a weekly or daily thing, and it's expected that you will generally arrive somewhere late as a result. I've written previously about how you can't help but show up somewhere late at least once a week, but you never know when it will be.

The problem here isn't that there are issues with the Subte. The problem itself is the Subte. It just doesn't function well and I have to say after traveling around the world that it's the worst subway system I've had the privilege to know. Having it there keeps you from bothering with the buses when traffic is at its peak in the morning and after work. It's deceivingly convenient. I'd be willing to pay another 10 cents or whatever it would be if they could just guarantee that you would show up on time and not be totally shocked. Isn't that normal?

So anyway, I got in line for a bus, then had to walk about 15 blocks to finally make it to work, luckily just a half hour late. As for the ride home, it turns out the D line was down all day. I had planned to go to an Anuva wine tasting to do some research for an article for Argentina's Travel Guide, but because of the mess with transportation, I wasn't able to make it. Even lining up for a bus meant getting behind about 100 other people.

So finally upon making it home, I had to pop open a bottle of red and just relax for a bit. Just another day in Latin America.

Above: Photo courtesy of Armando Maynez

Tuesday is Sweater-vest Day in Buenos Aires

2010-04-06T19:54:00.000-03:00

Today I decided to break out a new sweater-vest that I had gotten back in January, but had never used because it was obviously too hot. It's not the first time I've worn a sweater with a collared shirt underneath, though this is a different style and the first legit sweater-vest I've ever owned. In a way, it's sort of a step up and breaking away from my college style. It's more serious dressing even as my office is laid back and I could easily go in wearing a T-shirt and jeans, which I do occasionally.

But I don't know, I just feel that I should dress well when I step into an office. Even if it's a laid back environment, I feel like I need to act professional. So I kind of stick out in a way in the office, because some of the other guys dress very casually while I look overdressed. I was afraid that would happen today, but oh well, I had the sweater and I was going to use it.

To my surprise, it seemed like just about every guy on the subway had a sweater-vest on. We all had different colors and sizes, different brands and different patterns. But everyone seemed to feel comfortable wearing the office-fashionable clothing. Of course by the time I got to the office I was the only one left in the sweater-vest. No one gave me much guff for it, though eventually I was asked if I was hot and at the end of the day someone said, "How elegant."

Elegant? Well I don't know about that, but I'll take the compliment. If only they could see me now, sitting on the couch with my white under tee and sweatpants. Oh, the humanity!

American University, Fall 2011

2010-04-05T22:34:00.000-03:00

After waiting to hear from the rest of the schools that I applied to (with the exception of Boston University, which I have to assume somehow never received my application), I've made a decision on which graduate school I'll be attending. My final call is to defer for one academic year and then attend American University's School of International Service in the Fall of 2011. I'll be pursuing a Masters in United States Foreign Policy.

The idea to stay in Argentina for another year comes to the chagrin of most people I know, and I understand why. I've already been away from home for over a year and a half, and this solidifies that I'll be gone for about another year and a half. But I still have much to learn and I'm gaining invaluable experience every day at work and in my social interactions. I know from last year's experience that just as my time in Ecuador was ending I started to make more friends and hit a stride. I don't want that to happen again here, and I want to see it through to get the most out of the experience.

My Spanish, while already fluent and without being arrogant, is excellent, could always improve. Though the improvements now mostly focus on more obscure vocabulary, everyday is another lesson in something cultural. Everyday is another challenge that makes me a better person because of it, and I'd be cheating myself if I just picked up and left now. This isn't summer camp and I can't just go home out of the blue. I have a job and responsibility, and I'm willing to see it through.

So basically, I can now take a deep breath. Those first few months here were dominated by the GRE, applications, and waiting around for the results. Now I can rest assured that I have a secured spot for next year. For now, I'm going to sit back and enjoy the NCAA Men's Championship Game and think about how one day in the future I'll be a college student again.

Seeing Off Friends

2010-04-04T15:17:00.000-03:00

On Friday night my friends Dan and Valerie had a going away party. They've been in Buenos Aires longer than I have and are now starting to make their way home. They're leaving this afternoon on a bus from here to Lima, Peru, which will take three days. Then they'll continue the trip home. flying to Florida and then finally back to Utah.

I met the couple like I'd met many other people here, through contacts and friends of friends. We had some good times together and it's too bad that they're now leaving. We started off the night at their apartment in the Microcentro and then went to a bar they liked in San Telmo. The bar, which I think was simply known as "The Red Door," had a small upstairs area with dark lighting and a cool vibe. Good music was playing and there was a constant steady amount of people there.

I noticed that it was probably the last time I could get away with going out in just a T-shirt, as autumn chills have now officially set in. By the time I was heading home it was straight up cold and I was shivering. At the same time of saying goodbye to Dan and Valerie, a new friend named Brian came by. Brian is a friend of my buddy Lucho in Cuenca. They're both from the same town in Maine, and Brian is going to be here for a few months teaching English before making his way up to Guayaquil.

It seems like I'm still going to be bouncing around week to week meeting people, and there's just no way around that. The rest of the weekend has gone by pretty low key. I think I got in my last runs of the season this weekend, ending on high notes. On Friday and Saturday morning I ran about 4 kilometers each time, and today when I went out it was clear that the temperatures had dropped considerably. So much so that everyone was out in winter jackets.

Today is just a lazy day, maybe meeting up with some other people for dinner, but who knows. Then back to work tomorrow.

Sunset, Good Friday

2010-04-02T19:48:00.000-03:00

I know, it seems like I keep talking about the sunsets here, but they really are pretty great. Here are some shots from today's sunset, as seen from my balcony in my room.

Ohh, Boston You're My Home

2010-04-01T19:52:00.001-03:00

Today’s been kind of a tough day. I made my desktop background at work a picture of the Boston skyline, and though I barely have the chance to look at it, the picture has me thinking of home. I miss Boston, and though I don’t think about it too often to ease the effect of homesickness, it’s always there in the back of my mind. Even though I grew up outside of the city and was home for 3 weeks in August, I feel like it’s been years since I was there.

I scrolled through some pictures of Boston on Flickr and that didn’t make it any better. I thought of the harbor and downtown, all business. But quickly down the streets under constant repair (have they finally been fixed by now?) and you wind up by the Fleet Center. I don’t care if it’s the TD Banknorth Garden or whatever it is now, it will always be the Fleet Center to me.

The North End is just up around the bend, with excellent Italian food and tiny cobblestone streets. Colonial architecture and Quincy Market, where dozens of bars, restaurants, and designer stores make their home. Hardly anyone knows that Quincy Market is where slaves were once sold before it was outlawed in Massachusetts. But that was a long time ago.

I think about the dishes I miss—the New England clam chowder and lobster. The restaurants I’m familiar with from back home, the dishes I could count on having regularly which now are things to be cherished, like a Caesar salad, for example. On talking to my friends and hearing what they’re up to, where they’re moving to in and around the city, it makes me regretful that I’m missing out on time with them and the experiences they’re putting together. But like I’ve told myself before, it would be no different if I had been offered a job in Los Angeles and had to move there. I’d be just as far removed.

It makes it harder also to think that when I do go back to the United States eventually, I won’t be going back to Boston permanently. At least for the time being anyway, because it looks like I’ll be doing my grad school in the Washington D.C. Metro area. I miss the fall and the changing of the leaves in New England, and football on Sundays, and sitting in basements watching movies with people who I don’t need to tell my life story to because they already know it from being there, among other things. So today is kind of a tough day.

Semana Santa

2010-03-31T21:49:00.000-03:00

This week starts Semana Santa, or Holy Week, and most people have tomorrow and Friday off. Unfortunately I'll be working on Thursday, though we'll still get Friday off. A lot of people use this 3 or 4 day weekend as an excuse to get out of Buenos Aires and go somewhere like the coast for the last time before it gets really cold. We've had some wonderful weather lately and it's been a very pleasant early autumn.

I think back to previous years when I've had 3 or 4 day weekends and how I used the extra day advantageously and traveled somewhere. However, I can no longer just take off at will. I just don't have the funds to be able to do so. As it is this was a really thought month, and next month I have to pay 6 months advance rent, leaving me with another tough month ahead.

Even without being able to go somewhere for the weekend, I'm still going to get out of the apartment and do as much as I can in the city. After all, this is still a destination city, and there's always something going on whether you have money to spend or not. It'll be nice to get a few more runs in before the weather gets too nasty, and sleeping in a bit would be nice for a change. It sounds awfully domesticated, but I'm still all about traveling.

Sunday Afternoon

2010-03-28T18:41:00.000-03:00

After a short nap and some lunch I headed back out today. I really wasn't that exhausted from the race and felt like walking around, so with such a beautiful day, I decided to walk to the Botanical Gardens. The last time I went it was rainy and nearly empty, but today it was the complete opposite, with many people walking around and sun breaking through the cracks in the trees.

I took a couple of pictures and sat down for a while before meeting up with Hannah down in Recoleta. I jumped on the 67 and met up with her and a conversation partner of hers by the fair. The area was packed with young people and live music was being performed by two groups side by side. The last time I was here it was a similar scene, but I thought that day must have been special. Evidently, every Sunday there is music in Plaza Francia though. Just to get your mind in the right place, that's across from the Museum of Fine Arts and Buenos Aires Design (mall).

We walked through the stalls for a few minutes and then sat on the grass listening to the music for a while. All around us groups were having picnics with mate and snacks, and the music was actually really good. I have to say, this has been a pretty tight Sunday. Now I just hope something good is on TV tonight.

And also, this is one of the bands that was playing. I'm not quite sure why, but they are wearing white dresses. Going for a ZZ Top sort of theme?

Above: Images from the Botanical Gardens and Plaza Francia

La Carrera de Miguel

2010-03-28T14:57:00.000-03:00

This morning I woke up earlier than normal and got ready for the 10k in Palermo, La Carrera de Miguel. I ate some cereal, stretched out, and then headed in with the other runners to the park. The forecast had called for rain but I was happy to find that it was a warm sunny day without a cloud in the sky. I've been really lucky in that every race I've run in has had excellent weather.

The race has been put on in Bariloche and Buenos Aires for the last five years in memory of Miguel Sanchez, an Argentine runner who disappeared and was murdered under the last military dictatorship. So it's not much of a surprise that there's a political undertone to this race. Yet I still wasn't expecting the band of protesters by the starting line. They weren't doing anything bad, but had signs and were singing songs with their drums. I was kind of put off to it, thinking that they were using his death as an excuse to complain about the current government.

In any case, it wasn't really about the race. I picked up my free shirt, dropped off my valuables, and got ready for the race towards the front of the line. Slowly the lane packed in and the clock ticked down to zero. The route took us to parts of the city I hadn't seen yet. We started north going past the horse track and up to the Palermo Golf Club. Here in this area of the city I found more parks and ponds that I had never even seen before. The skyline of Belgrano was visible, and it seemed like a really laid back part of the city.

There was only one water station for this race at the half way mark. This was a free race put on by the city, but it's still a lack of judgment. Even if it's a free race there has to be some water available or people are going to pass out. We double around and began the second part of the race heading back to the starting line. By this point I was getting into a stride and my pace increased. My legs were a little bit tired but my lungs felt fine. Training had paid of after all.

This race lacked cheering crowds but even by the finish line people waited around anxiously. I ran hard the last kilometer or two and finally came in at a smooth 46 minutes and 22 seconds. It's the best time I've had in a race yet and blows away the 1 hour time from the Nike 10k in October. Though to be fair, I hadn't run for two months before that race.

Here another bad call occurred by the event staff. As you passed the finish line you could grab a bottle of water or Gatorade, but once you walked past a certain point you couldn't go back. I only had one bottle of Gatorade while some people had three. I quickly downed the entire thing and wanted another, but was denied anything else. Long tables were filled with hundreds of bottles but the staff refused to give the other runners nor I anything to drink.

Keep in mind we just ran a race. I think it would only be decent to give us a bottle of water so we don't pass out, but apparently they were sticklers for the rules that don't really exist. I stood around for a while hoping they would finally feel bad and just throw a bottle over, but they never did. I grabbed my things and headed home, picking up a victory beer along the way. It's more fun to run with some friends, but I had to make due here. There are more races coming up next month. Maybe I'll look into them.

Pictures From Another Traveler

2010-03-27T16:22:00.000-03:00

It's funny to see the pictures visitors take of the place you live in. I can't claim local status, but I've been here long enough now that I don't feel the need to look every time I walk by the Obelisk, for example. I've been going through my friend Amy's photos of her trip down in Buenos Aires last week, and they're great. Really, she does some amazing things with a point and shoot, apparently just by taking the flash off.

Anyway, somehow her eye caught some things I never see, and just from the angles of the shots she has you can tell that it was taken from the perspective of someone who isn't from here. There's an excitement and novelty in the photos that maybe wouldn't be captured by someone like me who has been here for a while. Just an odd angle of a building from a passing bus looks like it was artistically prepared, but before we give Amy too much credit, it was probably snapped off quickly at a red light. I should probably take my camera out with me more often, especially as it always seems that you see the craziest thing just when you least expect it. But I hate being a tourist and walking around like one, so there are pros and cons. One day though. One day.

Preparing for the Race

2010-03-27T16:16:00.000-03:00

It was good having a day off this week because it gave me the opportunity to get a long run in before the 10k tomorrow. Even with the extra preparation though, some partying had to take place to throw off the rhythm. On Thursday night Esquina Carlos Gardel, one of the better tango shows in the city, put together a party for some of the travel agencies and hotels in Buenos Aires. From my office only a couple of people wanted to go, but I didn't want to pass up the opportunity, so after work I headed over to the Costanera Norte with my co-worker Pablo.

The party slowly developed into a large gathering, but it was less of a rubbing elbows function and more of a night club. With an open bar and only occasional empanadas being served, any time a waiter came by people attacked the tray like wild animals. We wound up staying until 1:30 am and I didn't get in until 2. Poor Pablo then had to drive another half hour home after dropping me off. Needless to say, Friday was a tough day at the office.

Nonetheless it was a fun night out, and I'm glad to be able to take advantage of small perks like that. However, it is the end of the month and I had visitors for a week, plus my rent for 6 months is due next month, so money is a little tight right now. I'd been eating less and less as the week went on, eating pasta at least 5 different times and running down to just cheese sandwiches and a couple of cookies for lunch. To supplement the meal you can add in some mate, which fills you up slightly. It's not ideal, but when things are tough you make due.

After eating so much pasta I've started to just throw random things onto it for some variation. I like putting a few dabs of Frank's Red Hot sauce with some red pepper and oregano over the spaghetti noodles. Perhaps this isn't what you'll find at a high end restaurant, but it confuses your taste buds for long enough to convince you that you're eating something other than the same meal for the third night in a row. I remember way back before living in Spain thinking that I wanted to know what it was like to arrive to a country not speaking the language very well, sort of like an immigrant in the United States might experience. I went through the process of learning the language. I guess now I'm on the end of making due and stretching every peso.

But it's not all complaints. I finally went food shopping today and stocked up on all of the things that I've been missing out on. I even had 3 empanadas for lunch and bought orange juice. Tonight I'll make a steak with potatoes and onions. And then tomorrow I'll run in the race and hopefully celebrate with a victory beer. Of course it won't be the same without my friends Ricardo and Amy, and not being at high altitude won't make it as much of an accomplishment, but it's something to be proud of.

A Day Off of Work

2010-03-24T16:17:00.000-03:00

Today is a national holiday in Argentina in memory of the end of the military dictatorship from the 80s. People don't usually talk about it, or the Dirty War in which many people were "disappeared" and murdered. But today we get the day off of work to think about it, or to celebrate that it's over, or maybe just because there aren't many national holidays here.

It's a beautiful day, and I've taken advantage of it so far. I woke up late (after getting back in around 5:30 am), watched some TV, and then went for a run in the park. I've signed up for the 10k on Sunday in honor of an athlete who was murdered during the dictatorship, so I need to make sure my body is in good shape for the weekend. It's cooled off a lot in the last couple of weeks and running during the day is now very pleasant.

After three laps around the park I sat down in the sun for a while watching the groups of families and friends having picnics. I realized I was getting burned so I sat in the shade against a tree and watched the people running, biking, and rollerblading around the park. Everyone was enjoying the day off in their own way. It's one of those days in the fall when there's a last gasp from summer, but the chilly wind comes in to remind you that it's all over.

I'm heading up to Belgrano now. The day off continues.

Travelgrove: A New Way to Search for Deals

2010-03-22T21:39:00.000-03:00

Recently I was asked by Travelgrove, a meta-search engine that helps users find cheap offers on airfare, hotels and car rentals, cruise deals, and vacation packages, to give a review of their Web site. The following is an unbiased, objective review of their services.

The front page of Travelgrove jumps out as slightly overwhelming, with loads of information coming at you all at once. There are deals over on the right and advice columns as you scroll down, with text all over the page. However, a quick adjustment of the eyes and you're quickly at ease with all of the information. Really, it's no more overloaded with information than a Web site like STA Travel or Kayak, though Kayak is definitely simpler.

Focus along the lead banner and you'll find your options for how this site can help you find cheap deals. Namely, Travelgrove focuses on airfare, hotels, car rental, cruises, vacation packages, deals, and also includes sections with a travel community and travel tips. While I feel that the sections with the travel community and tips aren't as comprehensive as a network like Matador, they definitely add a depth to a cheap offers Web site that helps the user look into their purchase. On the other hand, it's not too common that a shopper will go to a Web site designed to give them good deals to do their research. That step will usually be taken care of well before a plane ticket is about to be bought.

In my experience in trying to find cheap airfare, whether in the U.S., Europe, or South America, it has always been important to compare prices, timetables, and availability. Not all sites manage these three things efficiently. I feel as though Travelgrove fits in with these categories. It's not to say that it's a bad Web site, but this issue still needs to be worked out with all sites. On a random search for flights from Buenos Aires to Boston, no results were found, though the search time was fast. I tried again with New York to Boston, knowing there would be many flights for this set. Yet again, no flights were found.

Looking back through the homepage there are numerous flights available, though when trying to find the actual flight you see listed, you are redirected to another Web site which has the original offer. This isn't too uncommon, though it is a nuisance when you are trying to find a cheap flight quickly. The Web site loads well, but adds time in that you have to search through so many options. Time and again as I search for the cheapest flights, the last thing I want to do is click on multiple links and hope I'm reading correctly. What I want is to type in Departure, Arrival, and see what my options are without delay.

One section with Cheap Flights to Los Angeles, for example, will give you many options on cheap flights to Los Angeles from numerous cities in the United States and Canada. It also lists the airlines which you would be flying with, which is useful if you have a grudge against a certain airline for whatever reason. Furthermore, the side banners are complete with pictures of the location and tips or articles related to the topic. How often you'll check those is debatable, but they are there nonetheless.

Lastly, there is a section with travel guides. I have reviewed the guide on San Francisco for an example. This is a short guide that doesn't go too in depth yet gives a nice introduction to the city. Assuming you have no previous knowledge of the place, you now at least have some basic information to get you started on your trip. It's probably a good thing that it's not too long, as most people don't have a large attention span when reading something on the Internet anyway. Additionally, this travel guide will link you to many other things including history, pictures, tips, nightlife and reviews. With a connection to the travel community, you can add your own comments if you are familiar with the place as well.

After spending a lot of time on this Web site, I could conclude that it's definitely a useful tool for trying to find a deal on a trip, no matter which kind that may be. It's not quite a TripAdvisor, but it's on its way to making a name for itself nonetheless. I would feel comfortable giving the go ahead to look for offers on your next trip. Let me know how your experience with it goes.

San Antonio de Areco

2010-03-21T14:13:00.000-03:00

The four of us had a laid back Friday night, simply getting a late dinner at a cafe down the street, The idea was to wake up at 9 am and head to the bus terminal to catch an 11 o'clock bus to San Antonio de Areco. We made it to Retiro on time but the next bus wasn't leaving until 11:30, so we finally rolled into town at 1:30 pm. First we walked around towards the center which was only about five blocks away from the bus stop.

Along the way we asked a woman where we could get some food and she recommended a place not too far away. Though the prices weren't too bad, they were still a little high for me. My friends were happy with it though and we had a great meal, along with some cheap house wine. We really had no plan on what to do, but the idea was to get out of the city and see some of the pampas. So after lunch we walked to a park, saw the old bridge, and then found our way to a tienda.

I saw that they were selling alpargatas, which are traditional gaucho shoes that I've been trying to find for a while. They're actually pretty hard to come by, but they are very cheap. I got a pair for $18, which is the best deal I've seen so far, and since we were already there with nothing else to do and two hours to kill, we got some beer. For the next two hours we just sat in front of the tienda and played cards while drinking a few beers.

The sky was dark gray and had the feel of the calm before a storm, but it was pleasant and fun sitting there with my friends. Before long it was time to head back to the bus station to go back to Buenos Aires. For our last dinner we went to La Cabrera in Palermo. It was hard to get a table and by the time we sat down with some food on our plates it was already 12:45 am, but the place was still packed. The restaurant has a warning on the menu saying you should share the meals, and we saw why pretty quickly. Enormous portions came out one by one, and though they were expensive, we agreed it wouldn't be too bad if you split it evenly.

It was a good way to end the vacation, and though I was sad to see them go, they left my apartment early this morning to head back to Ecuador. Today is a rainy and cold day, but it's also the Superclasico, which is the Boca Juniors vs. River Plate. It's a big game and the whole city will be watching.

Getting in Gear for the Weekend

2010-03-19T20:57:00.000-03:00

It was a really tiring and stressful week, even with having friends visiting. Maybe that added a bit to the stress, even though having them around has been awesome. Today I got two more decisions and neither were good. I was rejected by Tufts University and George Washington University. Those were two of the hardest schools I applied to, so I have to say that while it's disappointing, it's still a reach to try for those universities in the first place.

But finally the week is over and I can relax a bit before my friends leave on Sunday morning. They're currently coming back from Colonia, Uruguay, but won't be getting back until around 10:30 or 11 pm. Our plans, as of now, are to go to a town called San Antonio de Areco in the morning for a day trip. "Areco" for short is a typical Pampa town about two hours away from Buenos Aires by bus. Generally people will go to an estancia while they are there and do estancia things. But we don't have the kind of money to do that stuff.

I imagine that we'll get in there in the afternoon, walk around a bit and then get some beers at a cafe or bar. With not much else to do, we'll probably take a nap and then head back to the city. But that's just me guessing, based off of experience with day trips in Latin America. It will be good to get out of the city even if only for a few hours. And then on Sunday morning, far earlier than we should be awake, I'll say goodbye to my friends who will fly back to Quito to finish out their time in Ecuador.

¡Quilombo, Digo Yo!

2010-03-18T21:44:00.000-03:00

Last night was a fun, but late night out at a club with my friends and Vero and her friends. It was Saint Patrick's Day, so my American friends who are on vacation were all about drinking. But I had to keep in mind that I had work the next morning, so by 12:30 am or 1 am, whenever we finally made it out of there, we called it a night.

Surprisingly, the day started off alright, even though I was tired. There was a deep gray and heavy air in the city, like everyone was hungover. Checking my email I saw that I was accepted to American University for grad school. Not a bad way to start the day. My big day was planned around a visit to the old Registro Civil at 1:15 pm. For the ninth time I was going to try to get my DNI. The magistrate who has helped me in the past was supposed to meet me there, and I called her yesterday to make sure she was still on board. After all, I'd had this appointment since February 1st, when my last appointment failed miserably. Also, we were using her information to get the appointment in the first place.

I got there at 1:15 on the dot and called to see where she was. The first time I called we got disconnected (or she hung up) and the second time she said that she had to go to the bank and would be there in 20 minutes. Not too good considering on an hour lunch break it took me 15 minutes to walk there and you had to expect at least 30 minutes while inside, plus 15 back. I tried to get a place in line but since it was her information I couldn't, and they told me I only had until 2 pm to get a spot or I'd lose the turn.

So I stood outside the Registro waiting patiently, sweating in the humidity while recently married couples had rice thrown at them by their friends. Once or twice I was hit with rice as an innocent bystander. By 1:50 pm I had to accept that there was no way this could happen, so I had to return to the office with nothing in hand. I still had a giant alfajor that I bought her as a thank you for helping, which I left in the office kitchen for my coworkers.

It was pretty disheartening to have another failure at the Registro, and I felt like there's little more I can do at this point. I did eventually go back into the Web site and make up a DNI number to get another appointment, though it's not until May 5th. So I'll have to wait again and hope that the 10th time works out well.

Visitors in BA

2010-03-16T20:09:00.002-03:00

It’s good to have some friends around this week, and even though I work throughout the day, we’ve been trying to make the most of the time together. On Sunday we did some touristy things and ended it with the excellent all-you-can-eat steak dinner. Yesterday we met up back at the apartment after I came home from work and they finished with a bus tour of the city.

We talked about what they had seen (and hadn’t seen) and then they went out to buy some things to make dinner while I prepared some mate. Once they were back and we started cooking I showed them how to drink the traditional tea. It’s kind of funny to me that I should now be the one teaching people how to drink mate, when I still feel like a completely novice sometimes. Of course, I am a novice, but with more experience than them.

The advantage for the friends that visit me is that they get to see a more authentic side of Argentina, even if I myself am a foreigner. Usually tourists will never try mate because it’s just not something you normally order in a café or bar. But it’s something almost all tourists know about and want to try, so to help my friends experience that a little bit, I feel glad to impart some knowledge on them.

Cooking dinner was a team effort, though Matt, Amy, and Carrie did most of the work while I prepared the mate. Finally around 10 pm we were ready to go with way too much pasta and meat, as well as some delicious garlic bread. It was a fun dinner in which we again over-ate, and topped it off with some dulce de leche ice cream and alfajores. I like having guests.

The guys are planning on going to more places throughout the week and visit Uruguay for a day at some point. On Saturday we are planning to spend a day in the country in San Antonio de Areco, a town I have yet to go to. It is known as a quintessential Pampas town, with estancias and museums to visit. Unless plans change (which they always good) it should be a nice day trip from the city.

Siga La Vaca!

2010-03-15T19:48:00.001-03:00

Before I even arrived in Argentina my friend had told me about a restaurant called Siga La Vaca, an all-you-can-eat steak house in Puerto Madero. My friend Adam raved about it, and for six months I tried to get over there. Even though two different visitors have come, in addition to my parents, I still hadn’t made it, but finally last night I went with my friends to the famed restaurant.

After a late start on the day and walking around the San Telmo fair we moseyed over to Puerto Madero, where the chilly sunset blew in a stench from the river that was something awful. Even though it was way too early for dinner, I had built up Siga La Vaca so much that they were hungry for it. We walked into the restaurant 10 minutes before 7 pm, but already there were some people left over from lunch rush. The prices had risen—instead of $50 pesos that I thought I would pay, it was $72 (the price also rises on the weekends).

All you can eat comes with the salad bar with enough choices alone to make a whole meal, a liter of wine, beer, or soda (per person), and all the steak you could ever want. Oh yeah, and if you still had room, dessert. After tempting our taste buds with the salad bar options we hit the grill. A long front grill exposed a literal mountain of meat, with just about everything you could imagine. Chicken to intestines were available for the taking, and we helped ourselves well.

I stared with some bife de chorizo while the other guys got a portion of vacío. We all shared what we had, and after giving ourselves enough time to digest went up for more. This time we devised a plan to maximize what we’d try, so we all got something differet. I got chicken, Carrie got chorizo (sausage), Matt got bondiola (pork), and Amy got Patagonian lamb. It was a festival of gluttony.

With a combination of the two bottles of wine and all the meat, we started getting sluggish and hit the wall. But we had to continue, so three more plates were put down on the table filled with more bondiola and bife de chorizo. It was just too good. Finally we decided that we could take no more. We were going to explode or fall asleep at the table. The restaurant was now packed, so we didn’t feel so alone or fat by ourselves.

As Matt and Carrie stepped outside for a smoke, Amy and I ordered from the dessert menu, which surprisingly had a lot of options. For an all-you-can-eat place, it was really good. And since my friends came in from Ecuador where there aren’t too many options, they were in heave. When Matt and Carrie realized that we still had dessert to eat they let out a sigh as if saying “no more!” Even the dessert was excellent, though by that point we were all in pain. We looked at the clock and saw that we’d been eating for two hours.

Rather than deal with walking to the subway or taking a bus we just took the quick way out and got a taxi home, where we crashed on the couch to watch TV and moan from over-eating. It’s good to do that once in a while, but not too often. So finally after 6 months I discovered this restaurant. It was worth the wait.

Siga La Vaca is on Alicia Moreau de Justo 1714, Puerto Madero.

The Yin Yang Egg

2010-03-13T13:35:00.000-03:00

Who said cooking eggs was easy? I always manage to screw up the presentation of an egg, and this morning was no different. On an attempt at making a fried egg, somehow it naturally took the shape of a yin yang in the pan. Of course no one was around to see it, but I had to share it with someone.

Waiting and Waiting

2010-03-13T11:05:00.001-03:00

UPDATED: 5 minutes later. So after checking over The Fletcher School's Web site and confirming with their admissions blog, I've learned that while decisions have been made, you have to wait to receive an email to tell you to check. That was not clear in their Facebook posting, but at least it has cleared things up a bit. But that also means that I have to twiddle my thumbs for a couple of days waiting for the email.

Last night I stayed in with the intention of just watching a movie and relaxing. Just before I was going to put a movie in around 10 pm I look over Facebook and saw that The Fletcher School at Tufts University had posted their decisions for Fall 2010. Instead of a letter or even failing that an email, we were being notified on the Facebook newsfeed. The notice also said that you could expect problems logging in because everyone who applied would probably be trying to find out at the same time.

I spent the next hour (Friday night) trying to log in, continually refreshing the page. It reminded me of a few years ago when I would try to buy concert or sports tickets via Ticketmaster, and having to continually hit refresh. The minute Red Sox tickets became available, you would have to reload the page 100 times in hopes of getting 1 game. Finally it became obvious that I wasn't going to get in, so I put in a movie and waited it out.

But at the end of the movie, around 1 am, I tried again to see if I was accepted or not. I was now able to get to the log in page, but a new problem developed. Now I had no idea what my user name or password were. They weren't the same ones that I used for the application, nor were they related to my email address. I requested a new password, and though that arrived, the spot for user name was blank. I went to bed hungry to know what happened, but aware that there was nothing I could do.

I got up at the crack up dawn to check again, and still no luck signing in. The Fletcher School is one of the best in the country for International Relations, and it would be an honor to be accepted there. But I have to say, I'm pretty upset with the notification system. First of all, for a $70 application fee, an email at the very least would be appreciated, rather than by chance finding out through Facebook. Furthermore, if they want students to find out through their site, their server should be able to handle the load of the expected amount of students trying to find out if they got in. Of course everyone who applied will want to know as soon as possible, and posting it online and then saying you won't be able to see it is a tease.

I'm not sure what the next move is. Hopefully a letter will be sent to my parent's house in the U.S. But who knows how long that will take. In the meantime, I have tonight to look forward to. My friends will be arriving from Ecuador around 9:30 pm, though a day late, they will also gain a day on the trip. So it all works out in the end. By the time they get to my place it will probably already be 10:30 or later, and I'm sure they'll be exhausted. So maybe we'll just grab a bite to eat and call it a night. We have to make the most of the time together that we have because I'll be working the majority of their stay. But it will still be nice to have visitors for a while.

City Livin'

2010-03-09T20:36:00.000-03:00

I got two steaks in the oven, and like an idiot I already filled up on mortadela that I just bought for $3 pesos. But I was hungry, and the steaks take an hour to cook. All you do is put some salt on them and put the oven on low heat. A half hour in and they're already giving my apartment a buttery smell. I'm making lomo a la pobre tonight, which means I'll have a steak and a fried egg to top it off. It's a traditional Chilean dish which I'm a big fan of.

I'm waiting for these steaks to cook and scratching the bug bites all over my legs and arms. Summer is ending but these bugs are making one final push, sucking as much blood as they can before it gets too cold. The maintenance guy finally came up after about two weeks of having only one light working in my living room. Of course when he came in and gave it a whirl the light immediately went on and I looked like an idiot. But I swear it wasn't working. I can almost guarantee it won't work again in 20 minutes.

Where I live can be pretty noisy, off a main street such as Avenida Santa Fe. Even though I'm at the back of the building I still hear sirens all the time. When I first moved in here I noticed it all the time, and every night for at least the first month I woke up once or twice from the noise. Finally now I'm seeing that I don't even pay attention to the noise. It's just background, just like the soft swoosh of air through trees that never disturbs a country boy. I can even sleep through it mostly.

As a kid, spending a night or two at my grandparents apartment in Brooklyn was always a hassle, partly because of the noise of Brooklyn. It was a known fact that you wouldn't sleep well that night. I might be able to take it on now. Firstly, I want my steaks...

Transportation Issues in the Wake of the Quake

2010-03-08T22:07:00.000-03:00

I have three friends coming to visit at the end of the week, or at least that's what the hope is. My good friends Amy and Carrie from my WorldTeach program are scheduled to arrive in Buenos Aires from Quito on Friday morning, along with a new volunteer. Amy and Carrie stayed on for another year in Ecuador, and this will be the first time I'll see them since leaving over 6 months ago.

However, their flight plans, which were scheduled to pass through Santiago, have now been changed because of the earthquake. Oddly enough, flights are up and running again yet only the flight from Quito to Santiago was canceled. The flight from Santiago to Buenos Aires is still on, as well as the flights on the way back. But LAN Airlines is working with them for options.

Instead of all arriving on Friday morning, it looks like they'll be getting in staggered now, as they can't all make the same flights. One options was to spend 26 hours waiting around in airports, and another was to lose 2 days out of a 7 day trip. So either way, it doesn't look good. It seems like Amy will be arriving first, a day earlier than planned. Then Matt would show up on Saturday, and Carrie on Sunday.

You have to make due with what you can, especially under the circumstances when you realize what caused the problems and what really matters...

Ahh, as writing this post I talked to Amy on Skype and we came to the realization that this trip might not work out. That flight she wanted to get on to come in early already filled up, and now her options are limited. She's thinking of postponing until May, which would give her more time in the end, but delay the visit. As for Carrie and Matt, I'm still not sure what they're doing. So I need to wait to find out if they're actually coming this week or not.

This Is Why I'm Tired

2010-03-07T13:09:00.000-03:00

Sunday morning, 7 am, and I was just getting home. It's happened before, though I try not to make a habit of it, especially on a Saturday night out. I want to go in to work refreshed on Monday, but this will throw off the whole week. To start on Saturday, I woke up tired from the night out on Friday, but went food shopping and then met up with Hannah, a friend of Vero's.

Hannah is from the U.S. and has been here 5 months, but is looking for an apartment and having trouble. Since I've had experience in this and can relate, I offered to help her out. But first, we had to get some food. I hadn't eaten any dinner or breakfast because I had no food in the house, so by lunch on Saturday I was starving. I proudly took her to the hole-in-the-wall Ecuadorian restaurant in Once, where I had to double take the door to make sure it was the right place.

As I opened the door to a full house watching soccer, every face in the restaurant gave the same look of "what are you doing here?" We sat down and when the waiter came over, to my delight she said they had ceviche. As I've written before, the ceviche from Ecuador is different from the kind in Peru. While both are great, a special spot in my heart goes to the Ecuadorian kind, and I hadn't had any since leaving in August.

The bowl seemed small but surprisingly filled me up well. It was great to have it, though it wasn't the best ceviche I've ever had. It almost had a miso soup taste to it. The aji (hot sauce) was incredible, and once again they let me take a little baggie home. So after leaving we spent the rest of the day trying to find apartments online and setting up appointments, etc.

My plans had been to go see the Boca Juniors game with my friend Javier, but he disappeared and left me with no one to go with. Hannah invited me to go out with an English friend of hers named Tom, who'd just arrived here. So we went out to Acabar on Honduras 5733, in Palermo. It was a very odd place, with antiques adorning the walls and different decorations and set ups all over. It had the feel of a Chucky Cheese's but for adults, and we actually heard the "Happy Birthday" song 4 or 5 times. Guests could go pick out board games and bring them to their tables, causing the place to be loud and boisterous.

Hannah left early on to wake up and look for apartments, but Tom and I hung around talking to people, eventually leaving and talking to more people in the street. By the time we finished getting some pizza at 6:45 am, the sun was shining brightly and I knew it was going to hurt in a few hours. So now my Sunday is essentially a scrub, though our plan is to meet and go to the park to veg out. But I have to say that so far the weekend has been good and making up for a lousy week.

Jazz in Buenos Aires

2010-03-07T12:58:00.000-03:00

On Friday night I headed out with Ludmilla Lima of the CartasArgentinas blog to check out a couple of jazz clubs in Palermo Viejo. Our first stop was at a place called Virasoro Bar, on Guatemala 4328. When we got there the show had already started and the small venue was packed, but we were led to a table where we already had a reservation up in the front.

With the small venue, seemingly hidden bar, and bluesy sort of jazz, I had the feeling that we weren't in Buenos Aires, but rather in the Village in New York City. It could have been some cool underground jazz club near New York University for all I knew. The show cost $25 pesos and there was a minimum consumption of $12 pesos as well, which put it on the expensive side for me, but it was really enjoyable, mostly because it's so different from what normally goes on here.

The normal place to go out that I've been exposed to is a bar or night club life, which can easily get old after a while. This jazz club was a breath of fresh air. After the show we stayed long enough until everyone left and another band was preparing to play, but then we walked around trying to find another place, eventually winding up at Thelonius Jazz Club, on Salguero 1884. To me it seemed like another hidden bar, but it was packed with patrons, and it seemed like at least half were European.

Oddly enough the bass player and drummer from the band we'd just seen were there. The drummer was playing again, but the bass player was sitting alone at the bar, and he gave me a nod as if he recognized me but couldn't tell why. We wound up talking to the waiter, and it turned out it was his birthday. After the bar closed we were invited to stay after with the staff and talked for a while, and eventually they just gave us our drinks on the house.

So by the time we left it was pretty late and I was exhausted after a long week, but I was happy with a different kind of night out in Buenos Aires. It's obvious that in such a big city you'll find almost everything, but for a long time I hadn't seen that part of it at all. And I think I'll definitely hit it up again in the future.

Today's Sunset

2010-03-03T21:17:00.000-03:00

We were supposed to get a lot of rain today but it was only humid. A loud thunderstorm woke me up briefly last night around 2 or 3 am, and when my alarm woke me up this morning in the middle of a dream, I was still exhausted. I never really woke up throughout the day, and I'm too tired to write.

But when I came home from work I saw this incredible sunset from my balcony, so I quickly snapped a couple of pictures before it changed and went away. For just a moment it was like this.

Back Into Writing, Again

2010-03-02T21:53:00.000-03:00

It's hard to say that I stopped writing because I write every day at work and I blog frequently as well. However, the fact remains that in terms of travel writing and getting published, I have taken it easy since getting to Argentina. I just didn't have the time or motivation to pursue prospects or inquiries. But as of just recently I have been contracted by Argentina's Travel Guide to write some articles as a freelancer.

Argentina's Travel Guide is sort of like a Lonely Planet, but different in the sense that it is only online and updated consistently. That's one of the problem with printed guide books, because by the time they hit the presses and get into your hands, a lot of the information has already changed. But a lot of companies have sprung up in the last few years to deal with this issue, and Argentina's Travel Guide is one of those that promises to keep readers up to date.

Anyway, I'll be writing five articles on various topics related to Argentina for the Web site, so it's nice to be getting back into writing. It's just a little bit harder now that I have to do the writing after a long day at work of writing and editing. These articles will be loosely based on my experience in Argentina, and using knowledge I've gained from my job at a travel agency. I'll be sure to post updates when the articles are published.

The Japanese Gardens in Photos

2010-02-28T21:38:00.000-03:00

A stream

Coy pond with fish

Stones on the ground

Pagoda

The biggest rat I've ever seen

The Japanese Gardens

2010-02-28T21:15:00.000-03:00

This afternoon when I went for a run I took a different route than usual. This took me past what I thought was the Japanese Gardens, and eventually to the actual Japanese Gardens. This is a private space near the other parks in Palermo, and I could see that it cost $8 pesos to get in. So after finishing my run and showering, I went back out to the gardens to check them out.

Recently I've read about them from work, and I wanted to see them for myself. I got there around 5 pm and there was a long line to get in, but once inside I could see the various ponds and plants set up in a half-hazard style. In many ways, it reminded me of a mini golf course, lacking a pirate ship of course. The coy ponds were filled with colorful fish opening their mouths wide for the food that everyone was throwing down to them.

I circled around the area and sat down for a while, taking a few pictures at the same time. A sign told me that the garden was founded in 1967 when the emperor of Japan visited Argentina, and it represents the friendship between the two nations. What surprised me was the biggest rat I've ever seen. It was so big that I actually thought it was a gopher at first, but it was definitely a rat, showing no fear of humans. It had to be the same size as or bigger than New York City rats.

I stayed in the garden for about an hour and then slowly headed home through the other parks. There was a powerful sun today and it was extraordinary out, so I think my face has gone a shade of red darker. I liked the Japanese Gardens and will definitely take my next visitors there. Just as a side note though, I feel that the real allure of those kinds of places is the peaceful quiet you find with less people around. With so many tourists and locals alike there, it was a bit much. But it was a Sunday afternoon, so that will happen. If you go, try to check it out during the week if possible.

A Sad Realization

2010-02-28T13:11:00.000-03:00

From time to time I get emails from the Hillel House in Buenos Aires about events or parties around holiday time. Hillel is an organization for Jewish youths, and in the United States serves almost like a frat on university campuses. I had nothing else going on last night and got an email that they were throwing a party at the house in Belgrano with all you can drink for $15 pesos. Though I was tired and not really feeling it, I decided it would be good to get out of the apartment and try to meet some new people.

The invitation said the party started at 11:59 pm, and like an idiot I got there at 12:03 am. For some reason I thought the presence of study abroad Americans would have the party start on time, but of course I was the first person there. By the way, never show up to a party alone and be the first person there. You will not look cool at all.

As soon as I walked in I was regretting it. I thought it would be a simple party, but instead they had turned this nice house into a night club, with unnecessarily loud music, smoke machines, and paper on the steps to avoid dirt. It was a cheap dive bar or the basement of a frat house. The guy behind the bar had no idea how to even pour a beer and I had to physically take the beer from him to make sure the foam didn't outweigh the drink.

Little by little people showed up and soon the place was actually packed. But with no friends there already, I stood in the corner drinking and trying to look like I was interested in talking to people. As the minutes passed, however, my interest waned, and suddenly I realized that I was 23 years old at a frat party in South America. The median age was probably 19, and I was the creepy guy no one knew hanging back in the corner alone. I'm a loser.

It's kind of a sad day to accept it, but I guess it has to be the truth at this point. In high school I was shy but college opened me up, and I was sociable, out going, and interested in making more friends and such and such. Sometime between now and when I left for Ecuador though, things changed, and I feel more introverted now. It could be the amount of experiences that I've had have simply jaded me or made me feel unable to relay what I've done to others. And hearing the same stories and trying to make friends continually gets really old.

On Wednesday I invited Vero over for dinner, and we had a deep conversation about changes and life. Last night I could see that I'm really different. The time alone and struggling to find friends has made it harder for me to now want to try. I think I'm destined to walk the streets alone on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, wondering where my group of friends is. But after all, the problem may just lie with me, because plenty of other foreigners make friends, if not with locals then with each other. Yet I'm still bouncing around week by week after six months.

With the bad vibes from the party I hit the bar hard, getting the most out of what I could, and because they didn't have enough change when I showed up, I never actually paid. By 4 am I was sick of it for good and took off, pretty sure that it was one of the worst nights I'd had out in Buenos Aires. There's not much that can be done about it, so I'll sit around my apartment for a while, go for a run, and try to build up. Tomorrow is a new month.

The Earthquake in Chile

2010-02-27T19:30:00.000-03:00

A few people from back home have sent me messages asking if I felt any of the shock waves from the 8.8 magnitude earthquake in Chile early this morning. The answer is no, and I had no idea it happened until I woke up and saw five emails from my mom about it. News reports said that the earthquake was felt in the north of the country by Salta and Jujuy, but unless someone is uber-sensitive, it was not felt here last night.

I'm sorry to hear about how bad the destruction in Chile is and how the tsunamis across the Pacific continue to roll on. This happened at a bad time (not that it's ever good) with so many tourists still in Chile on vacation. I wonder how this will affect clients from my company who are in Chile.

I have a Chilean friend and actually spoke to her this afternoon. She told me that her house is basically destroyed, with the roof caved in and the walls split. She is now staying at her dad's office and they'll probably have to get a new home. That's in Santiago, not even near the epicenter. Chile is considered a country that gets earthquakes from time to time, but obviously no one saw this kind of destruction coming. But anyway, long story short, nothing is out of the ordinary here in Buenos Aires.

Dentist Time

2010-02-27T13:23:00.000-03:00

Last night after work I went to the dentist for the first time in Latin America. You generally have to wait 6 months for an appointment in the States, so you can do the math and figure that I hadn't been to the dentist in about a year and a half. Not that I felt that my teeth were in disrepair, but I wanted to keep them clean and prevent any problems.

Luckily I know someone who is a dentist, so I took the long transit to the neighborhood of Caballito and kicked off Friday night with some tartar scraping. I have to say that it was one of the least comprehensive dental visits I've ever had, though I don't know if that speaks for all of Argentinian dentistry. The cleaning basically consisted of just scraping for tartar and then a little fluoride washing. Unfortunately, I might have a little cavity developing, so I need to brush with some special toothpaste for a month or so to try to stop it, then go back and see if it has gone away. If it doesn't go away I'll probably need to get a filling--the first one I've needed since I was a kid.

It was a painless experience, though definitely not as thorough as a trip to the dentist in the United States. And at the end of it, there was no goody-bag with a toothbrush and sample size toothpaste. I didn't leave with that really clean feeling either, an actually brushed once I got home. It's hard enough to understand what a dentist is saying back home, but trying to get the gist of it through a mix of Spanish and English was a big challenge. We quickly realized that it wasn't so much a lack of language, but a lack of dental knowledge that made it harder for me to get it.

In the end the appointment lasted about an hour and by American standards was very cheap, without any need for insurance or records or anything else. And instead of needing to plan another visit in 6 months I can always go back whenever I need to.

Grad School Bound

2010-02-25T21:40:00.000-03:00

I have to be honest, even though I went through the agonizing process of studying for the GRE and applying to graduate schools when I first got to Argentina, the long waiting process has kind of been on the back burner in my mind. I just have too much going on here all the time to think about. So I was surprised when I came home after my run tonight to find out that I was accepted to the University of Maryland's School of Public Policy.

It just kind of slipped my mind that I had ever applied to grad school, and my first reaction was, "Oh yeah, I did that." But still, a smile crept across my face, and a weight was lifted. It's a relief to know that I've been accepted somewhere, even though I still have to wait to hear back from seven other schools. A lot has changed in the last couple of years. Before graduating from UMass I had no intentions of going to grad school, and now I will be going at some point in the future.

How I found out is pretty odd. In my Inbox the first email I saw was from Facebook telling me that my uncle had responded, "That's terrific!" to something on my wall. I had no idea what it could be about, so I followed the link and saw a message from my sister that the letter was sent home and I was accepted. A pretty non-traditional way to find out you've been accepted to graduate school, but I'll take it over a text message or the game telephone. Ironically, I was rejected from Maryland for undergraduate studies.

My first reaction is to email the people who recommended me and let them know, and then look back on what I wrote for my personal statements and see what I did to get in. I know, but I want to be sure it's not a practical joke. I celebrated quietly at home with some leftover chicken parm and spiral pasta, and then wrote this blog post. Let the good times roll!

When Am I Going to Need This?

2010-02-24T20:34:00.000-03:00

It's a question students ask repeatedly throughout their education, and I have to admit, the majority of the things you spend years learning probably doesn't really come into play on a day to day basis. Aside from what you may specialize in, if you're like me you wonder where all those years of school went. Recently I've noticed that some of the things I spent years doing in school are actually more relevant now than before, and most of the time I don't even realize it.

Take for example my history major. I'm not planning on becoming a history teacher or a historian anytime soon, but every day in class I was forced to take notes non stop, seeking out what was worth writing down and what wasn't. So in a business meeting (in Spanish), without even thinking about it my hand was going wild writing down anything that seemed worth noting. Years of history lectures taught me to focus on what was just said and write it down while continuing to hear the new words and write those down as well, even in short hand.

Or having a roommate in a cramped college dorm. My friend, who would be sitting a foot away from me, would be laughing hysterically while watching Family Guy and drinking a beer. Though my head might turn around once in a while, I was probably writing a paper at the same time. What did this teach me to do? Block out distractions like a zen master. My focus on what I'm doing is intense, and though noises, ringing phones, and laughter down the hall might be going on all around me, my eyes stay on the screen.

Journalism taught me to get to the facts. You can't always accept what you see, so sometimes you need to do some investigation--checking various Web sites, calling a company directly, and asking other opinions. I can't think of a situation when it would be acceptable to say, "Oh, well it didn't mention it so I just left it out." Obviously, the correct course of action would be to exhaust all resources until finding the solution. Fact check, fact check, fact check.

And of course, basic knowledge comes into play from time to time, anytime I read something with a random science fact or economic term, my liberal arts background steps up and even if it can't confirm the answer, my research begins with a head start. It's kind of cool thinking back now in all of the ways that the liberal arts education rounds the bases and gives a gentle push towards it all. Then you can take care of the rest.

Malawi Blog: Read This

2010-02-22T21:20:00.000-03:00

My good friend Ricardo Hernandez has been volunteering in Malawi, Africa for the last month. He's been keeping a blog about his experience teaching children, many of whom have HIV. His blog is an amazing insight into a country that I've never learned much about, and it really gives me respect to see my friend back on the volunteering circuit again.

Ricardo and I met in our volunteer program in Ecuador, and the kid instantly became a great friend. I hope he continues to have success in Africa, so give him a little support by reading along with his adventure.

6 Months In

2010-02-22T11:21:00.001-03:00

As of today I’ve been in Argentina for six months. I really left home on August 20th, a date which I arbitrarily picked while still in Ecuador, but because I missed my connecting flight in Washington, I didn’t arrive until two days later. Back in August it was still winter, and arriving early in the morning I saw that all of the leaves on the trees were dead and it was cold, overcast, and windy. In the taxi from the airport to my new home in La Boca, we passed drab buildings and run down streets, and I thought, “This is it? Big deal.”

It’s now summer in February, though it seems to be rounding out to the fall. Aside from minor things like the weather, I feel a world away from where I was six months ago in La Boca, and not just because I’ve moved twice and now live farther north. There was so much uncertainty when I got here, not only because I had no job and little money to waste, but because I didn’t really know how long I would spend here. I told people back home one year to ease the blow, but in my mind I was always thinking two years. Of course, it all depended on how well things went.

I thought then, and still do, that Buenos Aires is a city for the sun. When it’s shinning there is a glow around the buildings and I feel better, but when it’s drab and gray a depression seems to hang in the air. These old run down buildings don’t do well with overcast skies. So my first impression of the city wasn’t off to a good start, yet I tried and pushed onward as best I could, always with an open mind.

I’ve been really fortunate to see a large portion of this country from north to south, as well as exploring different parts of the capital city, slowly but surely. Just this weekend I found new spots to me which were quiet oases surrounded by buzzing avenues. It reinforces in my mind that there is so much to see and do here that more time is really necessary.

In comparison with last year, reaching six months in Ecuador, it doesn’t really compare. For me at that point, it was a downward slide and almost like a countdown had begun. I was in Peru at this time last year, navigating around Lake Titicaca, with a month of vacation time. But I’m continuing the uphill here, with a goal of another year and a half to continue exploring and learning about the place I live in.

Too much has happened in these six months to recount it all, but the experiences, both good and bad, have built up to where I stand now. I don’t really know what to make of it. At times it feels awesome, and other days I just want to be home with my friends doing something familiar. It just depends on what’s going on that day. So here’s to another six months in Argentina, and another meaningless anniversary.

Weekend Rain Doesn't Dampen All

2010-02-21T18:02:00.000-03:00

Even with this nasty weather we've been having over the weekend, the rain hasn't managed to ruin it all. Granted, I stayed in both Friday and Saturday night and missed an opportunity to check out a flea market, but I've still gotten out. On Saturday morning I woke up fairly early--around 10 am. 10 am is now late by work week standards, yet but weekend rules it's early. And in accordance with when I used to wake up, it was way early. Either way, I watched a little TV, cleaned the apartment, and went for a long run, all before 1 pm.

I then met up with a friend to walk to the Japanese Gardens and Parque General Las Heras. I still managed to get a burn from the morning run even though it was gray and sunless, plus I had to wait on my friend for a half hour. By the time she showed up it was already raining, so we took refuge at my place for about 45 minutes until it stopped.

It was decided that the parks would be a bad idea with the rain, so we instead headed into Palermo, as I had yet to really walk around through the different sections during the day. We were also trying to find a shop that sold good shawarma. It was one of my favorite kind of days: gray and calm before the storm, with a gentle breeze, not hot but not cold, and totally peaceful, even in a large city like this. I like rain from time to time, but too much can be annoying. Yet that kind of atmosphere is always nice.

Down through the tree lined streets of Palermo Soho, Palermo Viejo, and Palermo Hollywood, we walked among tourists and locals shopping at high end retails boutiques. Who knows where the little sections of Palermo really started and ended, but we could feel a sense of change from time to time. The deeper we went the lower the houses got, the quieter the streets were, and the more it felt like a suburb. And Palermo used to be a suburb until growth in the city enveloped it as another neighborhood. Only recently, within about 10 years, has it become a hip and popular place to live, yet it still retains its working class feel in many parts. On the other hand, you can really see why locals refer to Palermo as "muy fashion."

We walked to Calle Armenia, where surprise surprise, we found the Armenian food store where the shawarma was said to be. Unfortunately, we arrived too late in the afternoon and they had none left, so we split an Armenian empanada, which was filled with spinach and cheese. The employees were rude and unhelpful, but the smells in the store were sweet, and if I had some extra money and cooking knowledge I would have picked up some of the spices.

The excitement of the day pretty much ended there as we walked back to my neighborhood. So this morning I woke up at 10 am again, went for a run and then made lunch. But the view from my balcony told me it was going to rain sooner than it did yesterday. I decided to take a stroll to Alto Palermo, a high end shopping mall about 15 blocks away. I had no interest in shopping, but I just wanted to do something to get out of the house, and I still hadn't seen it.

Along the way I stopped in the Botanical Gardens just across from Plaza Italia. It's a beautiful and quiet refuge in between the hustle and bustle of Avenida General Las Heras and Avenida Santa Fe. Rain misted and sprinkled down in waves as I walked through, with just a few other visitors along the trails. The gardens were full of cats roaming around and using their tongues as toilet paper. I would have stayed longer but was worried about a downpour, so I left the park and walked down to Parque General Las Heras, a nice and quiet place in Recoleta.

I think Las Heras is underrated, because it's not a very popular spot in comparison to the many parks in the area. Yet it was still a nice place to take a stroll and it's located in a cheery part of town. I only passed through on my way to Alto Palermo, where I spent an hour strolling from store to store, somehow setting off alarms everywhere I went. All of the stores were expensive and I would never shop there. I don't even like going to malls, but I had literally nothing better to do and wanted to get out of the house.

On the way back home I stopped in at an Havanna cafe for a cortado, and realized that I hadn't been to one since my friend Kristine was visiting in September. When she was here we went almost every day, at least once a day. But once she went back to Ecuador I didn't have the cash for it. They make the best alfajores, and from time to time I'll treat myself to one, but I haven't sat in the cafe in a while.

So after a coffee it was back here, where I'll sit around and maybe if ESPN shows it, I'll catch the U.S vs Canada hockey game in the Olympics tonight. Tomorrow it's back to work.

Trouble With the Malvinas (Falklands)

2010-02-21T17:42:00.000-03:00

A new issue has been on the rise in the last couple of weeks down in Argentina. Seemingly out of no where, President Cristina Kirchner has made the Islas Malvinas (Falkland Islands) a top priority of repatriation. To me, it seems like another classic diversion move to avoid attention from real issues at home, but who knows?

It doesn't look like there will be another war like in 1986, but the government is looking to get territorial rights back. The United Kingdom, on the other hand, is most likely not going to back down so easily. I think the issue now is less of a territorial and pride matter, but more to deal with oil accessibility.

Higher ups in the government here have said there is a way for a diplomatic resolution to this, which is a good sign rather than a total ultimatum. In any case, this will be something interesting to keep an eye on for the coming weeks and months.

Flooding in the Streets

2010-02-19T21:29:00.000-03:00

It was a mess today, as another powerful thunderstorm rolled through Buenos Aires, dumping over 3 inches in 2 hours, with the majority coming in 45 minutes. I had no idea, as I was in the office working, away from a window. But I had been out at lunch and felt the intense humidity, as well as seen the dark clouds looming. You could tell it was going to be big.

I finally checked the window around 5 pm and it was dark as night out, with the streets filled with people running for cover. The subways were all suspended, and as usual Palermo was the first to flood. Just down the street from my apartment was the epicenter, where the Civil Guard had to be deployed to assist. The same thing happened on Monday, but at least it happened after I was already home by that point. Adding salt to the wound, it's a Friday and the weekend looks like it will be filled with rain as well. It always rains on the weekend.

With the subway out of the equation, I waited in the rain on the street with no umbrella for the bus to come, and when one finally stopped it wasn't too bad of a ride home. All told, I only got home about 20 minutes later than usual, though it could have been much worse. Fortunately for me I got off the bus at Plaza Italia, just as intense traffic was bulging up. All of the news channels are going a bit crazy over the flooding, and once again cars are floating in the streets and people are stranded. This could be a wet, boring weekend.

Getting Around Lunfardo

2010-02-18T22:15:00.001-03:00

Lunfardo is the slang used in Buenos Aires, which on occasion takes over more of the conversation than actual Spanish. Some say this slang was created as a mixing of the different cultures that settled here, or as a way to speak in code so police wouldn't understand. Either way, it still has me scratching my head sometimes, even though I've gotten down some of the basics.

Some of the most common words that many foreigners will either know already or learn right away are, "che," "boludo," or "che boludo." These words can mean a number of things, but depending on the situation, che is more like "dude", or "hey." Boludo can be something you call a friend or something you call an enemy, and as I've already made the mistake several times, you need to be comfortable with someone before you drop the boludo. I even have a little book on lunfardo-English called, "Che Boludo!"

It's something of a joke, but you really do need to learn a bit. A bad word in another language will never mean the same thing to you as one in your own language, and that's why I say boludo too much. I just don't feel it. To me, I hear people saying the word and think, "Okay, I get it. I want to say it too and look like a local." But I don't hear it in the same way, and I don't hear the undertones. I had just met a kid on my floor and said boludo. He wasn't happy, and I was the boludo.

Think of some of the worst words in the English language, and how you would instinctively know when it is socially acceptable to say them. Now, imagine that you have a foreign friend who hears you say one of these words. The next day they drop the word in randomly at a totally inappropriate time. Under normal circumstances you might be offended, but knowing that they don't fully grasp the word, you have to just smile and explain that they shouldn't say that. This scene is basically my life down here.

I'm learning on a moment by moment basis, and even then it takes time to get the meaning of the word behind the word. It's not just Americans or Britons that make these mistakes though. People from Buenos Aires talk differently, and even Spaniards or people from the south of Argentina are known to mock the way porteños speak. Like seeing an actor butcher a Boston accent, it makes you cringe.

Wherever I've gone I've tried to learn the local lingo. In Spain that meant saying, "Tío, joé que caló!" In Ecuador I adopted, "A cha chay," and "chévere." Even after just ten days or so in Chile I started using, "po" and "huevón." So no surprise that down in Argentina, trying to get to know this culture as best as I can, I'm going to mimic and do as the locals do. I just need to make sure I'm not saying the wrong thing.

I want so badly to be perfectly fluent in Spanish, and it's obvious to me that this is a goal that will never be accomplished. But there has to be a balance between sounding like an idiot and getting away with mistakes to sounding too good to make blatant mistakes like calling someone you just met an asshole, all with a smile on your face. Oddly enough, it's kind of a challenge.

Back on Track

2010-02-18T21:28:00.000-03:00

Tonight I came home to an empty apartment, and for a second I was still expecting to hear the TV on in the background or see the girls searching through their backpacks for something else to wear. Amanda left on Wednesday night and Lauren left this afternoon. It was fun having them around, especially because Lauren is a close friend from back in the Ecuador days.

So with a quiet apartment I went food shopping and made my dinner--homemade pizza, as usual. There's a welcome relief in having nothing to do and having the apartment to myself again, but I did like the company. This week's been tough for several reasons, and the upcoming weekend is supposed to have rain.

I've been falling behind on writing, what with the hosting and all, and I want to get caught up. I want to check out a flea market. I want to do a lot of things, but I also need to take some time and get back into the routine I was just barely getting into before the girls showed up. By now I pretty much have it down pat, but there are always kinks to work out. Mainly, I should just man up, stop complaining about it, and get out there.

So more writing will be coming along shortly, just wait.

Heavy Rain

2010-02-17T11:57:00.001-03:00

The other night it rained so hard that the streets flooded. I mean seriously flooded. Cars were floating down the street and parts of the city lost electricity until the next morning. From my 10th story apartment I watched a little bit of the storm, but really didn’t grasp the magnitude of it until later on.

Every time it rains hard in Buenos Aires, Palermo floods. It’s a combination of low streets and not very good drainage, plus all of the garbage that collects by the gutters. This means that once a rain storm comes through, the streets instantly become ponds, which turn into lakes, which flow into rivers. But again, up on the 10th floor I was lucky and dry, having gotten home before the storm, even getting a short run in first.

There are a lot of people that sleep out on the street in this city though. I wonder what they did during that storm. If they live in Palermo they probably had no where to go that night. As it was, subway service was disrupted on several of the lines up through last night, much to my surprise when I got out of work and had to struggle to first find a kiosk to give me change, then find a bus and get home.

Ever since the weekend Buenos Aires has cooled down a lot, almost so that it feels like autumn, but it’s too early for that yet. This is just a cold front, and I’m sure that in the next few days it will heat up again. In the meantime, it’s a nice change of pace to not sweat on the walk to work, and last night it was even chilly. My two visitors will be leaving shortly—one leaves tonight and the other tomorrow. But I won’t be alone for long, because in mid-March I have more guests coming from Ecuador for a week.

Having the guests come is nice and fun, though it does get tiring going to the same spots. Yet at the end of their stay, you realize that you enjoy the company and will have a void without them there. Even if it means going to the same tourist spots over and over again.

Lazy Weekend

2010-02-15T10:39:00.003-03:00

My friends came back to Buenos Aires on Saturday morning, and since they had taken a night bus from Mendoza, they took a nap once they were settled back in the apartment. This meant that we really didn’t get a start on the day until 2 or 3 o’clock. There wasn’t much of a need to rush because they had already seen a good amount of touristic sites, and we all agreed that after going food shopping we would sit in the park and drink some mate.

It wasn’t a very hot day and the park was pretty empty, but we sat by the pond and passed around the tea a few rounds. I’m happy to say that they’re big fans of the drink and might take it back with them. Just lazing around, we finally decided to head up to Belgrano and check out the small Chinatown. I’d never been there but kept hearing it was interesting, and that street food was good there.

Though it’s not a big deal for tourists, we had the time to kill and made the trip up to Belgrano. I’d never really been around the neighborhood, but once we got there I could tell it felt nice. To me, it had a Brookline or Brighton, Massachusetts feel to it. Still in the city, but with a different character and more residential. We moseyed over to the gate and joined the crowd of people walking into cheap thrift stores and Chinese restaurants.

“Chinos,” or supermarkets run by Chinese families, lined the block, packed with young people doing their shopping. I wanted some street food and though I couldn’t find the dumplings, got some fried chicken on a stick. It was a bit pricey at $7 pesos, but it was delicious. The chicken had some brown sauce on it that gave it a sort of kick, and after I finished it I couldn’t stop talking about how good it was.

The girls bought some beers and we sat in a park talking for a while as the sun set. To our left, a gazebo was filling up with elderly tango dancers. We went over and saw that it was just a local get together, which apparently happens frequently. Anyone can just go up and ask someone to dance, and the traditional music from the 40s blasted into the early night. We stood watching for 15 minutes and then headed home, glad that we’d come to a bit of a random spot.

Yesterday was a cool and sunny day, so again taking out time, we went down to Puerto Madero and the Ecological Reserve. I insisted that we get choripan, a sausage sandwich, at one of the many grilling stations by the swamp. The girls got one too, and we sat on the shaky white tables while cumbia music blasted from the stand. It was crowded but peaceful, with most of the people drinking mate with family or friends. Once the choripan was gone, we walked around the reserve; sitting by the edge of the river and watching the waves roll in, we sat in silence for a while.

To have the luxury of traveling in a place long enough gives you the ability to take it easy and really get a feel for where you are, and I’m glad the girls have been here long enough to see it like this. It was a lazy, but worthwhile weekend in Buenos Aires.

Tierra del Fuego Video

2010-02-11T22:48:00.001-03:00

At last I have finished the final video from the trip to Patagonia. This chapter focuses on our stay in Ushuaia, in Tierra del Fuego. In the video you'll see the Tierra del Fuego National Park and the Beagle Channel.

Light Headed

2010-02-11T12:04:00.002-03:00

As usual I was at my desk yesterday working, minding my own business and plugging away. But a mix of caffeine from the Green Hills tea and fatigue caused me to be momentarily light headed. Suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricks, sitting at my desk, slightly dizzy.

I thought of Quito first. I miss the smell of the polluted air, the simultaneous hot and cold feeling, wearing layers and burning at the same time. The intoxication that high altitude unintentionally causes. With a slight pant and trickle of sweat from brow, you were light headed and briefly high as your blood rushed to your brain. Running across the highway, black clouds of exhaust smoke in your face, and the fear that someone was out there plotting to rob you right then and there, but you would be prepared. It kept you on your toes. God, I miss that.

I’ll admit that over time I’ve thought less about Ecuador, mainly because you have to move on with your life or get lost in the past. And now I’ve almost been down in Argentina for 6 months, so some of the memories are starting to fade and the details are blurring together. What exactly did that village smell like at lunch time? Was it boiling chicken and rice or manure? Maybe both.

Whereas when I first arrived here I continued to think about Ecuador consistently throughout every day, I now need to find the time to acknowledge it and give myself 5 minutes here or there to think it through. After all, I want to be here and now making the most of my experience in Argentina. But when those strong memories do come back it’s hard to tell if I’m dizzy from the caffeine or from the shock it brings to my system. A rare find of hot sauce brings me back to the Colombian restaurant Moliendo Café, with the tight tables with yellow paper underneath glass tops, photos and maps of Colombia adorning the walls, and the friendly old married couple who ran the place, though their true home was Medellín. I order an arepa and with the tiny wooden spoon in the brown jar, sprinkle a healthy dose of the ground up ají peppers, and my mouth is on fire.

My friend Lauren is in this country for another week or so before returning to Cuenca, but she too will be going home next month. Yet I’m still jealous that she gets to fly into Guayaquil and take the 4 hour bus up to Cuenca, going from coast and banana plantations to jungle to high altitude mountains in step. Some people will jump on the bus and sell fried banana chips for a quarter, or homemade ice cream already melting off the stick. And there’s ceviche, encebollado, and all kinds of almuerzos (about 2 kinds) for $1.50-$2.

What makes it hardest is that I don’t know when I’ll be back. And if I do make it back one day, how much will it have changed? Back in Quito in September, 2008, a few of the volunteers and host families got together on Sundays to play basketball. The Quito Baller’s Club. It made sense, doing something that brought our cultures together. Then on the last Sunday after the game and lunch, some of us went to the top of a lookout point at the TelefériQo, at almost 13,500 feet up. It made sense, doing something as enriching as that. I’m so far away from that point in Quito now, but not just in distance or elevation.

Vale La Pena

2010-02-08T21:58:00.000-03:00

Even with guests here (though they left today for Mendoza) I'm starting to get used to my new routine. My new home is farther north, which makes the commute to work a bit farther, and instead of walking I now take the subway. This alone is another headache from time to time for obvious reasons. It seems as though half of the city tries to jam onto the D line in the morning, and at least once a week it breaks down with people elbow to elbow and sweating. You don't know what day it's going to be, but you know it will happen.

Leaving a bit earlier, standing around for the train, and then cramming in with everyone else is slowing becoming the norm. Coming home to this new apartment is now starting to feel normal rather than out of place. That's a good thing, as I'd rather not feel uncomfortable for too long. Now when time is permitting, I come home and go for a run, shower, make dinner and before long there's time enough to relax for a bit before bed.

It feels much better to have something else to do when I come home from work besides go straight to the computer after being in front of one all day. I don't watch much TV, but it's nice to have one in the apartment, so during those times that I do get bored and want to watch it's easy and accessible. And furthermore, it's my own space and I don't have to feel badly about doing anything.

So you have to get used to a rougher commuter and some other minor changes, but I think in the end it's worth it to feel comfortable at home and to be able to do what I like after work. And in a city of this size, there will always be something else going on if I get sick of running.

Tour Guide Weekend

2010-02-07T20:38:00.000-03:00

My friend Lauren and her friend Amanda arrived in Buenos Aires on Thursday morning, and since then I've been busy playing tour guide. Even though I myself am new here and learn about new places all the time, I'm now giving the explanations and showing my friends around the block. I never really had guests before when living in Spain or Ecuador (aside from other volunteers), and when my friend Kristine came here we both discovered the city together.

It's a different experience altogether to be the expert on the place you live in, and it's tiring. We've been going around town visiting some spots whenever the rain hasn't been pouring down on us, and when it has. We've gone out to restaurants and bars and stayed out late two nights in a row. I'm pooped, and have to work tomorrow. I'm noticing that it's not as exciting seeing the same touristic paces like San Telmo, and it's something that you have to deal with if you want to have friends visit.

Tomorrow they'll be leaving Buenos Aires to travel to Mendoza and Cordoba, so I'll have a few days in between when they come back to the city. Next month I have some more friends visiting, and I'm guessing we'll be going to the same kinds of places again. Eventually I might just have to make a treasure map and let people find stuff on their own, because I don't know how many more times I can handle going to the San Telmo fair. Now it's time for the Superbowl as the girls go out to a tango bar.

Back to the Beat, But At a Different Pace

2010-02-03T22:58:00.000-03:00

In the first week back to Buenos Aires after the two week trip south, I've been keeping busy and getting back into a sort of routine. I say sort of because now that I live in a different area, on my own for the first time, it's a whole new process that I need to get used to. I'm still figuring out what time I need to leave in the morning for work, and I keep getting in way too early. However, if I leave even just a few minutes later, I risk getting stuck in the subway with a million other people.

This week saw intense heat in Buenos Aires, but it finally started to rain yesterday, and is continuing today and maybe for the rest of the week, so the discomfort of that heat wave is shortly over. I have air conditioning in my apartment now, but try not to use it unless it's totally necessary. On Monday I went for my first run in the parks here, and it was good but also showed me that I need to get back in shape. I just did one lap around the lake after a long day of work and in extreme heat and humidity, but I feel like I should be able to do at least two laps with ease.

Getting back to work has been good. I've been swamped every day and had barely any time to breath, but it's also been good to help get back in the swing of things. And after all, I enjoy what I do, so I can't complain. The job is my main source of consistency here and it's helpful to have that schedule in mind.

Tomorrow my friend Lauren will be arriving from Ecuador. Her friend is joining her and they'll be staying with me for a few days as they tour the city, and then traveling around Argentina for a bit. I'm really excited to see her, as the last time we hung out was back in Cuenca in July. We were both volunteers with WorldTeach in Cuenca last year, but Lauren stayed on working independently in Cuenca. If you'd followed along last year, I traveled over much of Ecuador with her, as well as Peru, and she's a really fun person to be around.

So back to the grind, but with a twist. I'll be looking for the time to continue writing throughout the next few days.

Glaciar Perito Moreno Video

2010-01-31T16:12:00.000-03:00

Here is a video on the glacier Perito Moreno, near the town of El Calafate in Patagonia. This is an easily accessible glacier, and it's clear that Argentina is doing a great job to preserve it and keep it clean. Tourism is big business here, and the town thrives off of this glacier. What's most striking is the fact that it's the only glacier in the world that is growing rather than receding.

Driving in Patagonia

2010-01-31T13:21:00.000-03:00

After spending a good amount of time driving through Patagonia, I think this little bit of advice would be good for anyone who is thinking of doing the same thing. Expect a difficult drive even if you stick to the paved roads, and keep an open mind as always.

The distances in Patagonia are great, and even when you finally reach a town after hundreds of kilometers of nothing, you might find that you are just in a small outpost with one gas station. Though you might have enough to get you to the next town, you should always try to top off, because you never know if the only gas station in town actually has gas that day. This was a problem for us in our trip, and we had to struggle to find gasoline to continue.

Wind is going to be a strong factor on the drive. As you head down the paved roads at a smooth 120 kph, you'll feel the car being knocked around like a toy, and you have to actually fight against the steering wheel to stay on the road. While I was driving, I generally always had the wheel at 10-11 o'clock or 1-2 o'clock, even though I was driving straight. You have to really pay attention because you will most likely get bored pretty quickly. The landscape is unchanging and radio stations are way out of reach. Bring CDs you can listen to over and again, and try to get some good conversation over the sound of wind against the car.

Other dangers on the road are animals. Though hardly anything lives out there, there is a large number of guanacos and sheep that roam around with freedom. From time to time these animals will get right on the road, and you have to give them right of way. The guanacos will usually clear out quickly, but farther down in the Santa Cruz Province they must be stupider because they actually walk into the road as you drive towards them. Then you also have rabbits, road runners, ostriches, and other species here and there.

When driving on the dirt roads, you really need to measure the quality of the road itself to know how fast to drive. Some are better than others, and I was able to get up to 60 kilometers an hour. Others were terrible, and we struggled at 30 kph. There are large stones all over the road, and you need to find the grooves in the middle to sail through, though those lines are also sometimes blurred. Rocks bump up to the bottom of the car and it feels like a bomb is going off, and throwing in the wind can push the car around even worse. Once in a while a big dust storm will come through and you have to stop the car and wait because there is zero visibility.

On the rare occasion that you pass a car, definitely slow down to a near crawl, and then there are two schools of thought. You can either get as far to the edge of the road or get as close to the other car as possible without hitting. The idea is that rocks will generally fly farther out, so if you get closer the will pass by. Either way, expect to have some dinks and cracks in the car by the end of the trip. And make sure you have a spare tire with you.

With every long road trip you want to be prepared. So get the gas filled up, bring water and snacks, and get your directions down. Luckily it's generally a straight shot in one direction with few roads to screw you up, but as you pass through towns the roads change names and you need to pay attention to get through on the same route.

So if you do decide to drive through Patagonia one day, you now have a bit of advice from someone who has done it. Get ready for a long and boring drive.

Here I Go Again, On My Own

2010-01-30T18:25:00.000-03:00

My parents left me last night, heading home to Boston. Our last day together in Buenos Aires was spent pretty selfishly, as they took me around town buying me some new clothing that I needed. They wanted to go to the leather district in the Balvanera neighborhood, but by the time everything was settled with me, there wasn't really any time for them to do shopping. So we went back to their hotel, had a coffee by the pool, and then I watched them get into their shuttle to the airport.

This time it affected me. I was clicking my heels with joy when I left for Spain as a 20 year old, living abroad for the first time. Before leaving for Ecuador I was definitely a bit uneasy, but more for myself and what lay to come, yet I faced it strong-willed and determined to succeed. And by the time I left for Argentina, it was nothing to me. Just another time leaving home and going to live in another country. As always, my mom would cry and I would tell her to stop.

This happened again yesterday, only for the first time I really felt it hard. Previously, I was leaving home for a semester, or a year, or undetermined. But now I'm looking at another year and a half before seeing them again, and maybe for the first time the reality of how long that is and what it means has hit home. My parents are getting older, and I could see that on this trip. Not that they are in wheel chairs, but the time when they could outdo me physically has long passed, and there's no turning back.

This trip was long and though difficult in stages, very enjoyable. But it was also a continual reminiscence session, with them bringing up memories from my childhood and adolescence. Aside from winter and summer vacations, I really haven't lived at home since I was 18. Now I have my own apartment in Buenos Aires, a full time job, and a life going in a different direction than Sharon, Massachusetts. It's a hard pill to swallow, but they see that too. I don't see how I could ever be a boomerang kid.

For two weeks we spent almost every moment together, and now suddenly they are gone, and I'm alone again. It's a harsh transition, but I've made difficult ones like this before. In a few days it will be easier, and I have my friend Lauren visiting from Ecuador on Thursday. But there is still something haunting in the face of my mom as she got in the car to leave. Something more than her simply saying goodbye for a while. That's part of the price I pay for living abroad, and unfortunately I make my friends and family pay it too.

Bahía Bustamante Video

2010-01-30T18:11:00.001-03:00

Bahía Bustamante is a pretty unique place in Patagonia. It's off the off the beaten path, and perfect for those who want to get away from it all and don't mind rustic accommodations. Not that you stay in terrible rooms, but don't expect luxury either. However, you will find nature all around you (over 100 species of birds), striking blue ocean, untouched desert, and the opportunity to see Patagonian life more authentically than most people ever get to witness.

The village was founded as a seaweed producing plant, and at one point had 500 employees, though today it is down to 40. In the last five years it has started to host tourism, so that people can enjoy the beauty of the region and learn something about seaweed production as well. Take a look at this short video on the area.

Wrapping Up the Trip: 2 Weeks in Patagonia

2010-01-28T12:45:00.000-03:00

So this trip I've been on for the last two weeks is essentially over now. In a little over a half hour I'll be heading to the airport in Ushuaia and flying back to Buenos Aires, arriving in the late afternoon to heat and humidity from cold and rain. It's been a good trip, albeit a different one than I'm used to, but I'm ready to get back to the capital city.

We covered a large portion of this country, and I visited places that I never imagined I'd be able to. These places are very expensive, and I know how lucky I was to be afforded the gift to travel here, especially at my age. What did I learn? Patagonia isn't all mountains, for one thing. In fact, it's mostly wide open, windy desert steppe, with hardly any change and little to look at. Driving through this part of the country is difficult, not only for driving conditions but for possibility of falling asleep from boredom. If the guanacos don't cross the road as you drive 120 km per hour, if the wind doesn't push your car off the road, and if the dirt roads don't give you a flat tire, you might just go nuts from the loneliness of the place. There's hardly any radio stations, so make sure you have some good CDs to listen to, or it will be the sound of the wind hitting the car that you listen to.

Prices are higher here, as transportation obviously has to be taken into account, and even a simple dish like milanesa, which costs around $12 pesos in Buenos Aires, could cost around $18-20 down here. Internet connections are lousy at best, and cell phone service is nearly non-existent outside of the larger towns. Would I recommend driving all the way down here to someone else? On the one hand, you really get the see the country up close, but it's just so big that I think you'd be better off flying between destinations and cutting the gap, giving you more time elsewhere. Besides, if you've seen the steppe for an hour, you've basically seen it all, and 12 more hours of it won't enlighten you anymore.

The weather dictates life, but life must go on regardless, and so you will continue to work and live through harsh winds, dust storms, and never ending rain. People are friendly, but beware of the tourist traps and look for the truly authentic places. El Calafate has the look of a place that is sinking into a trap, and with a casino in the center that charges $2 pesos to get in, you can tell it's hardly improving the place. But Bahía Bustamante and Monte León are the traditional images of a Patagonia with no connections to the outside world, and absolute connection with the natural world around them.

Prepare to see sheep, guanacos, and tumbleweeds. And make sure you have plenty of batter power for your camera.

Above: Dirt roads, giving vaccines to sheep, a road sign between El Calafate and El Chaltén

Punto Tombo Penguin Colony Video

2010-01-28T11:54:00.000-03:00

Ladies and gentlemen, drum roll please....I would like to present the video I've just edited on the Punto Tombo penguin colony in the Chubut Province of Patagonia. The colony has over 500,000 Magellanic penguins, and is a truly unique place in the world.

Glaciar Viedma in Photos

2010-01-27T22:57:00.000-03:00

Floating icebergs

Snow on the mountains

Glaciar Viedma, on Lago Viedma

Hues of blue

Peninsula Valdés Video

2010-01-26T23:24:00.000-03:00

After traveling through Patagonia for almost two weeks, I'm finally able to access YouTube and upload the video I've made on Peninsula Valdés and Estancia El Pedral. I'm starting to work on a video of Punta Tombo, the penguin colony with over 500,000 penguins, so hopefully I'll have that up and running soon. We've arrived in Ushuaia, and man is it cold and windy! Tomorrow we'll be taking a boat cruise on the Beagle Channel and then checking out the Tierra del Fuego National Park.

Spotting the Condor

2010-01-26T11:14:00.000-03:00

This morning saw flashes of sunlight and continued wind and rain. Typical. We went out for a short and easy hike to the Condor viewpoint, towards the southern end of the village. Some people go their whole lives without seeing a Condor in its natural habitat. It's an elusive yet iconic bird in South America. It's the national bird of Ecuador, though they basically don't exist there anymore. It's just as hard to spot them here in Argentina.

We started out on the hike and suddenly I heard my dad yelling from behind me. It was hard to hear because of all the wind, but he was pointing to the dark sky and yelling, "Condors!" My parents were hoping to see one before the end of the trip, and sure enough, they got lucky. There were two condors flying so high up that I couldn't even tell it was them, though they apparently have a 9 foot wing span, making them easy to spot even as they fly high overhead.

I'm not much of a bird watcher, so it wasn't that big of a thrill for me, though I can at least appreciate the luck in being able to see them. They are generally scared off by people and fly away, which they sure enough did just a moment later. We continued the hike to the top of the viewpoint, but could neither see condors nor the mountains, so after a couple of minutes of catching our breathes, we headed back down into town.

This town feels empty today. There are occasional hikers heading towards or back from the trails, but it doesn't seem like there are any locals. They are probably doing the smart thing and staying indoors. We're leaving El Chaltén in a couple of hours to drive back to El Calafate, and then flying to Ushuaia. We'll be there for another couple of nights, and then fly back to Buenos Aires.

I'm eager to get back to the capital. I'll have a lot of work to catch up on with all of the places that I've seen, and I miss the friends I've made in BA. I want to get back and enjoy the warm weather too, because as much as a relief from the humidity as it is, southern Patagonia is just a bit too windy and cold for me. That's why I'm not in Boston right now, and it's time to complain about the heat and humidity again.

No Village For Old Men

2010-01-25T19:39:00.000-03:00

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that Patagonia, no matter which part of it you’re in, is a harsh environment to live in. You have to be strong willed to survive here, and as you occasionally see from the abandoned houses, not everyone makes it. El Chaltén is one of those towns that sits in a landscape best described by poets better than me, yet it is also one of the harshest environments I’ve ever seen.

They tell me that this consistent wind and rain is normal for this time of year: the high of summer. To be fair, the wind dies down in a couple of months which makes the hiking safer, but this is the height of tourism season. So the majority of people who come here looking for great hiking realize that they have to do the majority of it in miserable conditions.

We were spoiled yesterday when we arrived on a clear, albeit windy day. We could actually see all of the peaks, including Fitz Roy, that iconic rock face pockmarked with snow. The hotel staff told us it was the first day without rain in a month, and when I pulled back the curtains this morning, preparing for a hike with my dad, I saw that the rain was back.

My parents seem somewhat put off here. I stayed back to do some writing while they checked out the town last night. In an hour from when they left to the return, they went from excited to be here to doubting the decision to come. First there is the age gap. The majority of people here are in their 20’s and 30’s, and in good condition for hiking. My parents are obviously older and not in tip top shape. My mom didn’t even have good trekking shoes, and ironically fell in the street when not paying attention to a groove.

Next is the harsh climate. The wind was so fierce that they almost fell over. But considering that it is supposedly windier in Ushuaia, where we’re headed next, I’m wondering what they will do. They aren’t frail, but once you reach a certain age a fall will take more of a toll than you would think.

Arriving in town yesterday I thought it could be on the cusp of a boom in growth, but I can see now why it still only has 600 full time residents since it’s foundation in 1987. Frankly put, you need balls of steel to live here. It’s beautiful in every sense of the natural world, but this is definitely a frontier town with a sense of vulnerability. The nearest “city” would be El Calafate, and though newly paved roads make the more than 200 kilometer trip easy, you better have a high pain threshold if you fall down the slippery mountain trails.

I don’t feel out of place here, and it’s not just because I’m in the age demographic. I’ve been in the wet dirt road towns all over Ecuador and hiked on trails that didn’t actually exist. A false step to the left meant paralysis and a bad move to the right meant death. But now that I seem like such a tough guy, I will say that I couldn’t live here. This weather is just too much, and I give credit to those who can put up with it. Tomorrow we head back to El Calafate to drop off the rental car and fly to Ushuaia, Tierra del Fuego. The end of the world. I can’t wait to see the forecast.

Breathing in Patagonia

2010-01-24T20:48:00.002-03:00

From the view in my room at Eolo Lodge, about 20 kilometers outside of El Calafate, I sat on the bed and watched a rain shower sweep across the desert from the mountains west by the border of Chile and end at turquoise blue Lago Argentino, with a wide rainbow frown. The wind was howling against the windowpane and some eagle was flying overhead. This is Patagonia.

I've been traveling through this desolate part of Argentina for a week now, and it has yet to disappoint. Even in the hundreds of miles of monotonous desert that we crossed between Bahia Bustamante and Monte Leon, even against the horrible dirt roads where a rock against the bottom of the Fiat made it seem like an IED was going off, even with the harsh winds that slapped pee all the way up to my face even as I went with the wind, it's still amazing. There's something new and rich about it, and with hardly anyone around it seems like it's all yours.

We only needed to spend an hour in El Calafate today to see that we were better off on the outskirts. With a casino in a small town based off of summer tourism, you walk down the strip with expensive designer stores and wonder where the authenticity went. But we drove 4 hours up to El Chaltén with frequent stops for pictures, and here we have found something maybe not truly authentic, but developing into a tourism hub.

El Chaltén is the newest town in Argentina, founded in 1987. It was essentially slapped together quickly as a way to settle a land dispute with Chile, and a quick survey of the village shows you that people basically set down a house wherever they pleased, and lots of communication and planning needs to be figured out. This is a frontier town, so you get packs of dogs strolling around and a sense of beginning. Everything is on the horizon, which because of the large jagged peaks doesn't really go very far.

The town begins in a small entrance across a bridge and widens out by a valley, flanked by high towers on each side. From the road outside the town you are lucky if you get a clear day with a view of Mt. Fitz Roy, which we got today. I love the Andes Mountains, and this place only solidifies in my mind how diverse and unending it is. From the rolling mountains in Ecuador to the sharp and hardly arable Patagonia, it never lets down or ends. Just when you think you've reached the peak, there's another.

I can add today's drive to another one of those "Best Drives Ever" list that has jumped up sharply since my year and a half in South America. Right now I'm sitting at the lounge of the hotel and the wind sounds like it's going to snap the large windows in half, but so far they're holding out. All around this area are backpackers with the alpaca sweaters and hats (myself included) and old timers with the designer gear.

Patagonia is a land for those who can imagine, and for those who want to imagine. There isn't much to say when you stare at a peak like Fitz Roy, and there's a lot to be said about that. You leave behind the city and find open fields and large mountains, and somewhere in the back of my mind I find that word I used last year, mountnanimous. That's my word, but you can use it. Little else really gives justice to what you see. You just need to shut up and enjoy it.

This morning my dad and I took a hike above the hotel and with the clear day, we were able to see 180 degrees from Lago Argentino, to the snow capped mountains and Torres del Paine in Chile. Game. Set. Match.

Above: Lago Argentino, towards Chile, on the drive to El Chaltén, El Chaltén

Patagonian Diversity in Photos

2010-01-24T20:21:00.001-03:00

This is just a short example of the diversity of Patagonia. Though it is mostly open desert steppe, there are untouched beaches, high mountains, and clear glaciers as well.

Top: Sunset in Bahia Bustamante

Middle: An old apartment from the Bahia Bustamante seaweed factory

Middle (2): Beaches

Bottom: Perito Moreno Glacier, near El Calafate

*It's been hard to get a stable Internet connection in Patagonia, and this is the first time I've been able to add pictures, but once I return to Buenos Aires, I'll post more of these. Also, I've already finished one video and will be making more once I return to the capital. But for now, the connection is too weak to be able to post these videos. So check back later on.

Patagonian Driving Reflection: Deep in the Desert

2010-01-22T18:44:00.000-03:00

As I type this now, we are driving through Santa Cruz Province, somewhere in Patagonia. South of Comodoro Rivadavia, north of Rio Gallegos, we are in the middle of the vast openness that defines the majority of this country. All around our white rental car is desert, monotonous and with little change. Its unchanging drab is semi-entertaining, at least for the first impression anyway. This is the end of the world.

Our trip hasn’t been without its own share of trouble and hardship. Much like Ernesto Guevara and Alberto Granado had to battle with crashes on the Argentinian roads, we have had our bumps in the road, literally. After leaving Estancia El Pedral we went south to Punta Tombo, a Magellanic Penguin rookery with 500,000 penguins. It was impressive, and I think even the hardest of tough guys has to admit that a penguin waddling away is cute to watch.

After leaving the rookery my dad opted to take RP 1 instead of RN 3, a paved national road. RP 1 is a provincial back road that is closer to the coast, giving perhaps better scenery, but trades off in that you drive along dirt and stone road, making the trip longer and more dangerous. My dad later admitted that he was wrong to choose this route, as a plan had been to gas up in Camarones before reaching our destination at Bahia Bustamante,

Unfortunately unbeknown to us, a gas strike was in effect, and there was no gasoline in Camarones. We continued on the road, only passing our first car of the day about 30 minutes before reaching Bahia Bustamante, and now had less than half a tank. This was bad because we had a 9 hour drive in 2 days, were in the middle of no where, and would either have to drive in the opposite direction or risk going part of the way and running out of gas on the way south.

We were later told the strike was over, but would have to wait to see what we could get from Bahia Bustamante. In the meantime, we enjoyed ourselves at the rustic seaweed community, doing excursions with a really friendly guide named Nicolas. Bahia Bustamante has its own penguin colonies and around 100 species of birds. It’s a natural paradise. We also went to a ranch and helped hold down some sheep to be vaccinated.

The estancia gave us 10 liters of gas, which was enough to get us to Comodoro Rivadavia to refill for the drive 9 hours south to Estancia Monte Leon. It was awfully nice of them, considering they themselves needed gasoline to function. Back on the road, we’ve been driving for several hours and taking in the scenery. I’m exhausted, unshowered, over-fed, my red-tainted travel beard is coming in thick along with my sunburn, and I’m frustrated. It’s been a tough trip.

In Patagonia, whenever you see a gas station you fill up no matter what, because who knows when the next time will be. At the last gas station my dad somehow lost his credit card, but didn’t realize it until we were already at the next one, 200 kilometers away. It’s obviously out of our hands for now, but in the meantime it has made things unpleasant and unsettled the mood of the road trip.

It’s easy to yell at a friend if they screw up badly, but doing so with your parents isn’t a fair thing to do. But I lost my cool a bit when both parents started shouting across the gas station quickie mart in English. Having lived and traveled around Latin America, I know from experience that while you often stick out a lot, it’s best to keep a low profile. Showing that something is wrong and talking loudly in English is hardly that. But my experiences in Latin America have given me a different perspective on travel that most people won’t have, and for that I can’t expect everyone to be as alert as I am.

So for now we continue driving south, hoping to reach out destination before nightfall. It should be easy here, as the sun keeps setting later and later the farther south we go. It’s also getting colder and windier, so that the car gets tossed around on the road like a toy. A quick night over in Monte Leon, and then on to Calafate in the morning. Sometimes vacation is work.

Parents Arrive, Off to Patagonia

2010-01-18T15:29:00.000-03:00

On Saturday afternoon I met up with my parents at their hotel in Puerto Madero. It was a nice and simple reunion, and shortly after we met up with Vero to get some lunch and go around Buenos Aires a bit. A parilla lunch was what we got, sort of late in the afternoon, and then we headed up to MALBA to see the Andy Warhol exhibit. By the time we got there we didn't have much time because I had to drop my keys off at my old apartment by 6:30 pm.

Taking taxis almost everywhere, we rushed back to the Microcentro from Recoleta, picked up my backpacks, and moved out. We then had to head back up north to Palermo to finish the deal with the real estate agent and move into my new apartment. It was a full day for my parents, and after getting sort of settled in the new apartment, we got a light dinner and I took them back to Puerto Madero. Then I had to go all the way back up to Palermo, repack a bit with things they brought me, and wake up at 4 am to head to the airport for our 6 am flight to Trelew (pronounced Tray-lay-ew).

In under two hours we arrived in Patagonia, and were transferred to our lodging at Estancia El Pedral. The ride was about an hour and a half, and I quickly passed out for most of it. We didn't have time to rest once we got there though, as we quickly dropped off our things and went off for our first excursion. Going out with our driver/guide/host Wendt (Ben), we took a small rubber speed boat along the coast of Peninsula Valdes.

What's most striking right away is the deep blue water crashing against the rocky beaches and the steep white-washed cliffs. The contrast is blatant and strong, and as we rode in the boat against the heavy waves, it felt like white water rafting on the sea. We arrived at a point with sea lions, maybe hundreds of them, beached on the rocks. I've seen sea lions in the Galapagos, but these were totally different, and I really understand now why they are called sea lions.

The males had large "manes" around their heads and were growling loudly like a lion. They even had the same body frame, but instead of legs and paws they had flippers. The females sat near the newly born sea lions, which were crying loudly. Some sounded like children, and others sounded like sheep. It was a strange cacophony of sound.

Just as my mom started to feel a little sea sick we headed back to the estancia for lunch. I had packed a hat but had to rearrange my bag just before leaving at 4:30 am, so I must have forgotten it stupidly. Obviously, I burnt and didn't put sunblock on until it was too late. So you can still burn badly in Patagonia, in case that was ever a question.

After a great lunch we rested up before going back out in a Range Rover to spot some Magellanic Penguins. A new colony is being formed right by the estancia, and they're still afraid of people, but we were able to see them as they waddled away. We then took a hike along the rocky beach and cliffs, spotting elephant seals from a distance. The wind of the morning had died down, and by now I was given a safari kind of hat to use, so the conditions were pleasant. It was warm but not hot, and far from cold.

After sharing a dinner with some of the other guests we called it a night, exhausted and looking ahead to the morning of fishing.

Last Communication For a Bit

2010-01-16T10:30:00.000-03:00

It's a rainy Saturday morning, and according to the news, it's supposed to be a rainy Saturday through and through. Bummer, dude. My parents are probably somewhere over northern Argentina right now, and should be touching down in less than an hour. It's too bad they're arriving on such a crumby day, but you win some and you lose some. The worst of it is that I was planning on walking down to their hotel in Puerto Madero to meet them, but now I need to find another way.

This also throws off other plans for the day. I figured we could walk around a bit and see some neighborhoods they've probably never been to. But now maybe a museum or something will be more appropriate. Really, I just want to crawl back in bed, as it's one of those days that is perfect for sleeping away the morning. But there's business afoot.

So we'll be busy today with the arrival, going around town a bit with Vero, and then later in the afternoon I have to run up to Palermo to pick up the keys to my new apartment. For a few hours here I'll be without a place, at least in theory anyway. Technically I'm already paying for my new apartment, though I can't even take advantage of it yet.

Tomorrow morning, far earlier than people should have to wake up, we'll be heading to the domestic airport to fly south to Patagonia. From the road I'll try to find wireless connections and keep updates coming, so check back in to the blog to see how the travels are going. I'll also be uploading photos of Patagonia and, if time permits, making a video or two.

Double-Barrelled Packing

2010-01-12T22:03:00.000-03:00

I'm sitting in my room now and it's nearly empty. There are still the paintings on the wall that my roommate made, but my maps of Buenos Aires and Argentina are down. Most of my clothes are either packed up or at the laundromat. A suitcase lies opened and nearly full, while a large backpack contains a few t-shirts and a sweater. I'm getting ready to move again, and once again I'm packing my life up.

I'm getting better at this. 8 major moves in the last year and a half. 8 times I have packed up my life and started over, unpacked it all, packed it all up again, and moved on to call somewhere else home. Starting in May, 2008, I packed up my college life and headed home. In August I prepared for the move to Quito, and shortly there after my short lived move to Machala. Packed up again in Quito and then on to Cuenca.

I stayed in Cuenca the longest, and once I left there for home again and got settled in, it was time to leave again. This time for Argentina, arriving in La Boca for a month. Next I moved up north to the Microcentro. And after 4 months I'm on the move again, this time farther north to Palermo. A real life Argentinian Horatio Alger. Rags to riches, moving on up. But for how long this time?

I had my bags nearly ready in under an hour, with the majority of it packed up in under 30 minutes. Remember those questions they used to ask us in school? If your house was on fire and you could only take one thing, what would it be? I think I'm a fast enough packer now that I could take it all and still have time for smores. What kind of a nomad have I become? I don't want to get to a place where I feel the need to move after getting settled, but there seems to be an incessant need to find something else. Not necessarily "pata caliente" but a want to feel comfortable. So far I haven't found the niche.

A life without furniture, it's kind of sad to think that your whole life can be summed up in a couple of bags, but then again, it has the power to make you more agile, if it doesn't all weigh you down, anyway. I had to think of two things for this big pack. Not only am I moving out by the end of this week, but I'm also going to Patagonia with my parents for 2 weeks on Sunday. They arrive to Buenos Aires on Saturday, and so one bag will stay in Buenos Aires with mostly work clothes, while the backpack comes with me, filled with Tees and casual gear.

It kind of adds a different feeling to the long term packing, because at least one bag stays for me to pick up eventually. "Well pick up your gear and gypsy, run..." I'm back on the road soon, but still have a place to come back to in Buenos Aires. Even though that might not be an apartment I can call a home yet, it's a place in mind, which I've come to understand as more of a home than an actual place with walls and windows.

Great Way to Start a Week (Sarcastic)

2010-01-11T22:38:00.000-03:00

Today was a nervous, aggravating day that I'd like to forget. There's a million things to balance at once. Grad school applications are all starting to be done at once, and it doesn't seem as though the GRE scores made it to all of the schools. My parents are coming in a week and then we're taking off to go to Patagonia for 2 weeks. I'm moving out soon, and also in the process of getting my DNI. Too much, too fast.

This morning I got to the Registro Civil at 8:30 am to pick up a copy of my mom's birth certificate for the 3rd time. The woman who helped me last time was supposed to meet me again and help out, but she was an hour late, and I stood outside the Registro getting antsier and antsier. The only funny part of the day occurred when 3 or 4 people came up to me as I leaned against the column and asked me for advice. They wanted directions to other Registro's and wanted to know how to go about getting some kind of form.

A normal person would have no idea how to answer those questions. But since I've been running the gauntlet and doing the same thing, I was giving them directions perfectly and explaining the process. It was as if I worked there, only I was helping them out. Finally the helpful woman showed up and we went in, waited our turn, and then finally picked up a fresh copy of my mom's birth certificate. All that wait because the word "dieciocho" was cut off at the top.

I was late for work, which made me nervous. But on top of that, I had plans to sign the lease for an apartment after work, which made me more nervous. The rest of the day was spent toiling over it all, and wondering if I should go forward with it. In the end, my other option wasn't looking too strong, and I went ahead to Palermo to sign the deal. Yet when I got there, it wound up taking 2 hours to work things out, and as it stands it still isn't resolved.

First, the owners insisted on keeping a maid which I would have to pay for, but I told them I didn't need one and would clean myself. This took some debating until they agreed to wait a month and see how I cleaned up. Next, even though we agreed to pay half in cash and half in check, they decided they didn't want to accept check because they would have to pay a fee to cash it. So again we were at a deadlock.

The real estate agent stood in the middle trying to make both parties happy, until finally we agreed on a short term deal. I had half of the 6 months advance rent in cash. We ripped up the first 6 month contract and made 2, 3 month contracts. In this way, I could at least be able to move in and pay them their cash when I had it available. So tomorrow I'll meet up with the real estate agent again, figure out how to get him his cut, and get the keys to my new place.

Since I'm already paying for it as of tomorrow, I'll be moving out of my apartment sooner than I thought, and will look to have all of my stuff in the new place by Saturday morning, before my parents arrive and before I go to Patagonia for 2 weeks. If I could just get a spare moment to let it all settle, some of it might make some sense.

Strange Night at the Movies

2010-01-10T10:36:00.000-03:00

Dan, Valerie, and I were all pretty tired from Friday night and had no desire to drink anything again, so we decided to go see a movie on Saturday night. The plan was see a movie for a peaceful night and then call it quits before it was too long. As it turns out we didn't go until 10:15 pm, and thus didn't even get out of the theater until 1 am.

We went to see "Avatar" down in the Microcentro, with Calle Lavalle filled with people on a Saturday night. That alone felt weird to begin with, and deep in the Microcentro is the last place you want to be on a weekend night. We got to the theater, purchased our tickets, and eventually sat down. I would say the theater was somewhere describable between the smallest movie theater ever and the largest personal home entertainment room ever. With a small screen by movie standards, it seemed like some millionaire had put in this room in his house for him and his 80 closest friends.

The humor started before the movie began, when the intro's for the Dolby Sound Effects came on. They were using the same intro that was used back in the 1990's, and what must be well out of date by American standards by now. I even remembered the intro from my childhood, and it made me burst out laughing. What was next? "Let's all go to the lobby?" Before the intro finished it was cut off, and no previews were shown. The movie simply started.

The movie started out and was going all fine until suddenly a crazy lady stood up in the front row and started yelling. It was hard to hear what she was yelling with the loud speakers, and eventually people started yelling back at her to shut up and sit down. Some people left immediately to get security. All I could make out was that she wanted help for something. But she was smiling and half-laughing, and it seemed like she was on drugs. For some reason the second she got up and started yelling it made me think that the theater was about to be robbed, and brought up images of the bus hijacking. The same kind of thought that goes through my head anytime the power gets cut now. I can't help but think that someone has cut the power to shut down security and rob us, rather than there being a simple electricity problem.

In a couple of minutes an usher came in, flashed a light in her face and led her away from the screen. A good 5 minutes of the movie were lost between the incident, and everyone just tried to get back into the movie. At some point halfway through the movie, in the middle of a scene, an intermission came on, blacking out the screen and turning on the lights. We all laughed, never having actually been in a movie with an intermission. It was like the 1930s, and we just used the time to discuss the crazy lady and ask around what the deal with it was.

Avatar was a long movie, but not the longest I've ever seen, and yet it's the first that had an intermission. I think it's all digital now, so they shouldn't even have to change reels or anything like that. But the movie eventually continued without any other hold ups, and finished well. At the end people applauded, as if we were at a play and the actors could appreciate the appreciation. Though the movie was good, I feel like the most entertaining parts of the evening were the unintentional screw ups.

Hold the Phone

2010-01-09T18:23:00.000-03:00

Last night was a long one, and leaving the club after sun up, I headed back to a friends' apartment to crash for a few hours. I didn't get back to my place until noon, with a vicious hangover being fed by the high heat in the city. I was down though because I'd lost my phone somewhere between the taxi ride back and crashing at the apartment.

I looked all around the room but couldn't find anything, and just chalked it up to slipping out of my pocket in the taxi, which was very uncharacteristic. I was hoping that my friend would continue to look for the phone, and wasn't going to rush on getting a new one because truth be told, I get more text messages from the phone company with promo's than from people. But then I remembered that I'm going back to the Registro Civil on Monday and need to call the helpful magistrate to come with me. So I needed a phone.

After ambling back to the apartment in the intense heat, with my head feeling like it was in a fishbowl of beer, I sat in the cool shade of the living room talking to Dan and Valerie. Paula was still sleeping so we didn't go looking for the phone again, but I had accepted that it was gone, and went out into the streets to find an open Movistar store. I walked all around Corrientes and Florida, packed with tourists, yet no Movistar was open. On a Saturday afternoon I couldn't buy a phone, which I thought was a bit ridiculous, but I went home to nap and regroup.

Then by chance, when talking to Valerie online, she told me that the phone was found. So because the phone stores were closed I was saved of having two phones. It's also just a really complicated time, and spending a lot of money on a new phone is not an expense I can afford. I've had that phone since my first week in Ecuador last year (after my first was stolen) and it has gotten me by. For now it will keep going in Argentina.

Buenos Aires Empties Out

2010-01-09T18:14:00.000-03:00

January is the month when most government offices close down. Lawyers, judges, and other bureaucrats take the entire month off and leave the city, as well as many businessmen and other professionals. The city started slimming down in late December, but this week after New Years', I've really seen how Buenos Aires has become a ghost town.

It's noticeable walking to work in the mornings right off the bat. The streets I walk in the Microcentro used to be congested and packed with people bustling by. It's no surprise Argentinians drive crazily because they generally don't know how to walk either. At any given moment someone in front will change directions twice and then stop in their tracks, and I'll have to swerve around people left and right. But this week the streets were nearly empty, and it was like walking down a 3 lane highway in the middle lane with no cars around.

The city keeps getting hotter, and with empty tumbleweed streets, the heat just rises and rises up the metal valleys and titanium rivers. But with all of the Porteños gone, in their place a multitude of tourists have stepped in to fill their place. Their numbers are far from replacing the missing locals, but it's evident where I work that it's high season. Walking down Calle Florida is a headache, more so than usual. But at the very least you have to be glad that there are tourists here, spending money and putting something into the economy. I can't say whether or not tourism is at a number that would be considered normal due to the crisis.

Once January ends the numbers should come back up, and the city will fill up again. But for now, I'm able to enjoy nearly empty buses and subways, and clutter-free streets.

Apartment Search Problems

2010-01-07T12:36:00.001-03:00

This week has been a bit hectic and somewhat of a let down, especially after coming back from a fun weekend at the beach. Though I thought my deal with a new apartment was squared away, it turns out more headache was in store. Suddenly before closing out last week, the real estate agent subtly threw in that in the 2^nd year of the contract there would be a 20% increase in the rent. Whether or not that’s normal here, it’s crazy and uncalled for. It seems that if you had a good tenant, you would want to keep them to avoid the process of finding new people every two years.

A 20% increase in rent would make it unaffordable for me, and I relayed this to the agent on Monday. The only reason I gave a $500 pesos down deposit was because based off of the figures we had worked out, it was doable, but with the additional cost, it wasn’t possible. Another issue arose in that I would have to pay 6 months advance rent, yet they were unwilling to allow me to pay any of it in credit or check. That means I’d have to take out thousands and thousands of pesos from the ATM, causing fees to pile up, but also that I would have to walk around and ride in the subway with all of this cash. Definitely unsafe.

I explained this to the real estate agent and said that I unfortunately had to walk away from the deal. Shortly after I got an email back saying he’d talked to the owner and she was willing to lower the increase to 10% and let me pay half of the 6 months advance rent in check, half in cash. It’s still not ideal, but at least it cuts down on the amount of paper I’ll need.

So I thought the deal was back on for good, but the more I ruminate on it, the closer I get to ‘pre-buyers remorse.’ Dozens of questions keep popping into my head, making me second guess my move, not only from the length of time but from the loss of a month deposit of rent when I leave early. One thing is for sure—I need to move out of where I live now and the sooner the better. But my options are limited with the time I have, we’ve already put so much effort into this deal, and other possibilities are slim.

One option could have been to live with a friend, but paying only slightly less and with two other roommates wouldn’t seem ideal. It also wouldn’t be too much farther away from where I live right now. I had considered it though, until he said that he wasn’t actually sure if he had a room available. Another option that Vero brought up yesterday is to look into an apartment near her in Balvanera. It’s cheaper, but I can’t see the apartment for 15 days, which is way past the time that I need to have a decision. In order to get all of the cash together, I have until Monday to meet with the real estate agent and sign the papers with all of the cash ready. So I have until then to check out the Balvanera neighborhood and see how it feels. There aren’t any parks and it’s just a regular neighborhood, but it might also be more authentic.

These are the things that I need to debate and come to terms with over the next few days. Monday is due or die time, and I stand to lose $500 pesos in deposit if I back out of the deal. Deep down, I know I would be very happy in the new apartment, and I know that I’ve wanted to live there up until the last day or so when all of the doubt finally got to me. So far 2010 has gotten off to a shaky start.

Leaving Mar del Plata, Back to Buenos Aires

2010-01-04T21:56:00.000-03:00

For our last meal in Mar del Plata, Maru made a feast of various types of gourmet pizzas. They were made completely from scratch with ingredients that we bought at the store just moments before, and were ridiculously delicious. Though I'm a fan of the pre-pizzas that I buy and cook here in Buenos Aires, these homemade pizzas obviously wiped the floor with them. It was a good and laid back dinner, but before long it was nearly 1 am and we were all pooped, so we decided to just call it a night, rather than forcing bad hangovers for the ride home on Sunday afternoon.

Even with a laid back night, I was exhausted on Sunday, and just moving about the apartment for a few moments was laborious. What made it worse was the sunburn, and extreme third degree burns I got on my feet. It made me feel sick, and I actually got a runny nose, but in general my body just felt like it had been hit by a truck. After the apartment was cleaned up and we were all packed and ready to go, it was time to leave Mar del Plata.

It was a nice and sunny day, already very hot and humid. Imaginably, Buenos Aires would be much hotter. Picking up some more snacks for the road, it was time to start back on Route 2, and back through the empty pampas. There wasn't as much conversation on the trip back north, mostly because we were all pretty exhausted from the weekend, but a car ride has its ways of being enjoyable nonetheless. As I fought fatigue, I looked from left to right soaking up as much of the green space as I could, aware that soon it would all be concrete again.

Somewhere along the road near a town called Maipu, we stopped for about 45 minutes at a little lake hidden off the road. Though it had a sign advertising it, the area seemed forgotten, and only a handful of people were there. Pablo had discovered it the last time he was down in the area, and we walked to the shaky wooden dock, taking some pictures and looking at the dark, motionless water. Only occasional bubbles would pop up from fish down below. The heat had died down as dark gray clouds loomed in the distance, and with some shanty tin buildings, a few picnic tables, and windmills spinning wildly, I again thought back to how the pampas reminded me of my image of the Midwest United States. I could see some movie where the peaceful farm town was about to be rocked by a tornado.

It was so quiet and relaxed, with the gentle breeze blowing from the west. Pablo said the last time he was there it was packed with cars and people, and the water was filled with swimmers. We got lucky and had it nearly to ourselves for almost an hour before getting back on the road towards Buenos Aires. Up through the north of the pampas I noticed that on the side of the road, where one might find McDonald's and diner's in the United States, all you would find here were parillas, or steak houses. McDonald's will generally always be bad (though good), and it's possible to get a so-so diner. But I had to think that every one of those steak houses was great, and what's worse about not trying all of them was not trying any of them. But it was Sunday afternoon and we had snacks, so on to Buenos Aires we kept going.

Reaching the outskirts of the province and city, we passed through many small towns along the way, with the population steadily rising as Buenos Aires grew closer. Finally we came to Banfield, where Pablo and Paola let us out to catch the bus back to the city center. It was a fun weekend and was great to see another part of Argentina, but what made it so worthwhile was that I was able to share the experience with Argentinians, learning cultural things, sharing mate, and speaking in their language. Though I've had some experiences with locals, this was by far the longest of its kind in my time here, and just a few days in the presence of Porteños taught me almost as much as my time winging it alone has in 4 months here. A successful start to the new year, and hopefully with many more good times to come.

Above: The pampas, near Maipu.

Hitting Up the Beach

2010-01-03T22:31:00.000-03:00

Mar del Plata is the beach to go to in Argentina, mainly because it's really the only area with a stretch of water that is accessible for swimming and within close proximity to the majority of the population. If the trendier people go to Punta del Este in Uruguay, the regular majority vacation in Mar del Plata. With that being said, it's known for overcrowded beaches, with umbrellas touching each other as people pack in among the windy beaches. Though it's not too warm or cold, Mar del Plata is a varied place in summer.

During the summer the population can swell up to a million, but for the rest of the year it's a near ghost town, relatively speaking. Judging by the cold winds at night in the summer, I can imagine why no one would go in the winter. We woke up late on January 1st and took our time, eating breakfast and drinking mate on the balcony, waiting as the day warmed up after a morning rain. By the time we were ready to go the day had turned pleasant and warm, but not overbearingly hot. With the advantage of a car, we drove farther south, away from the packed beaches where those in the city without cars would wind up. We still had to battle through city traffic, but the difference in the laid back attitude of a beach town was clear, and it was a welcome relief from Buenos Aires.

The architecture of Mar del Plata is pretty interesting, with alpine houses and English Tudor's dotting the hills overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Thousands of beach-goers headed down to the water, and as we continued along the road the crowds tapered off a bit. Picking up some sandwiches for lunch, we got to a stretch of beach that, while had a good amount of people on it, was nothing compared to the beaches back in the city center. By the time we sat down and set up the umbrella, ate and put on sunscreen, the sun became hidden by dark clouds out at sea.

Our first day at the beach was short lived, as the ominous clouds turned to a heavy rain storm that came in quickly and without mercy. As a mass exodus slowly left the beach in double file, we got back to the car and sat soaked in traffic retreating to the city. Hail pounded the car, but within minutes the storm had passed. We killed some time by playing hangman on the car window frost and drinking mate. The rest of the afternoon was spent relaxing at the apartment and cleaning up for dinner at the seaport.

Unlike Puerto Madero in Buenos Aires, boats will unload their catches in Mar del Plata and allow people to buy fresh product right there. There's a section packed with restaurants, mostly all you can eat seafood, and we chose one that seemed to have a fair deal. Though it seemed like everything involved calamari in some way, we tried just about everything, and it was all good. I love fried calamari, and was happy with the large plate that I got. We picked up some lemon ice cream to put in champagne after dinner, and called it a night to make the most of our last full day at the beach on Saturday.

Going farther south on Saturday morning, we picked a nice looking beach that eventually swelled to a huge crowd, with umbrellas everywhere, getting me lost on the way back from a walk later in the day. The day was spent relaxing between some Frisbee, a picnic lunch, and trying but failing to learn the card game Truco. With a different deck of cards that have different values, I found this Argentinian game to be very confusing, especially when explained in a different language. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and before long the burn started to kick in, even though I put on sunscreen at least four times.

All told, we were at the beach from about 10:30 am until 7 pm or so, when the wind had picked up and the sun was setting. My feet had been badly burned, among other parts of my body, and were swelling to a pink and purple complexion, despite having spent a large portion of the day under the umbrella. Before going back to the city we took a different path home, through a wooded area with alpine houses, seemingly hidden among the forest. It was totally quiet and peaceful, and I could see that living there would be a peaceful existence.

A quick stop at a local fair reminded us that we were burnt and cold, so we got back on the trail home, to clean up and make dinner for the last night in Mar del Plata.

Above: Maru, Paola, Pablo; drinking mate at the beach; a duck and a shmuck

New Years' Eve in Mar del Plata

2010-01-03T21:46:00.001-03:00

After working a half day on Thursday, I headed back out to Banfield with Vero to meet up with her friends Pablo, Paola, and Maru. The plan was simple: Pablo's parents loaned us their car, and his aunt loaned us her apartment in Mar del Plata for the weekend. Though it was already 3:30 pm on December 31st, we took off for the beach town 4.5-6 hours south of Buenos Aires to celebrate New Years' Eve.

There's a special kind of energy in a packed car at the beginning of a road trip, when it feels like nothing can stop you, and whether the wind blows in through the window or the air conditioner is on full blast, you feel fresh and free. No work for 3 days and a holiday to boot. Not too shabby. Already in Buenos Aires Province, we headed south through towns that reminded me more of the Latin America I was familiar with last year, and the farther south we headed the fewer the houses were, shanty as they seemed, and the older the cars got. Eventually we were in nothing but open fields, and all around us we were in the Pampas.

The pampas are what I imagine the Midwest of the United States to be like. Never having been, I have to use movies and pictures as a basis, but down this road in Argentina there was nothing but open space on the left and right, plain and flat as far as the horizon. A sky so wide and open that it felt like you could almost see the curve of the earth. Living in a city, the world is obscured by buildings, and the view is often only as far as the next block, but in the pampas, you have nothing to block your vision, and what you see is what extends for miles and miles beyond that. Other than some cows and a random house or two, there isn't much else going on.

Though I'd met Pablo and Paola a week ago when I went to their house for dinner, it was still like starting over again in terms of conversation. It's always going to be hard to jump into a group of old friends, especially in another language, so at first I sat back and mostly listened. This is also the best way to learn the language. An untold number of words have entered my vocabulary since Thursday, not only because I asked but because I listened. Soon enough the ice was broken and I got into the conversations just the same, though obviously giving space when stories were told that I was unfamiliar with. It's to be expected that you won't understand everything, and continuously asking what something means gets annoying.

The mate was passed around consistently, and I found myself totally comfortable and at ease with the process. Though I asked questions about it, nothing could be as simple as drinking a tea through a straw for a moment. Maybe I feel most immersed when I share mate, and I've gotten to the point where I look forward to drinking it and sharing the experience. Maybe one of the funniest things I've taught anyone since living in Latin America is "Fuggin' brown bears," which really means nothing. It's just a play on words originating from my friend Adam who once said, "Beers, fuckin' brown beers...fuggin' brown bears." "Fuggin' Brown Bears" went on to be my fantasy football team's name for two years.

For some reason, this came up in the trip, and everyone took to it, practicing it and getting it down well. It would keep coming up through the weekend. The hours passed by quickly and by 9:30 pm we were pulling into Mar del Plata, ahead of schedule. After dropping off our things, we picked up some food and drinks, and then had dinner at the apartment. It was a totally different New Years' experience than I'm used to. For years now, I've met up with friends early on, maybe 7 or 8 pm to begin partying and by midnight, it was practically a blur. With deep winter outside, we stayed in a house and went home at 1 or 2 am.

Here, it's a summer holiday and Argentinians don't even go out until after midnight. I found that most people will celebrate with a dinner with friends or family, toast at midnight, and then maybe go out dancing depending on the age group. We celebrated from the balcony listening to fireworks going off all around at midnight, and then joined the crowds heading to the beach. The fireworks, both personal and public, were deafening, and music was blasting loudly in one of the squares where hundreds of kids decked out in white were dancing. Apparently wearing white on New Years' is a tradition in Brazil that has recently made its way into Argentina.

We had another toast at the waters edge, freezing as the wind blew in ferociously. Mar del Plata gets very windy and cold at night, and with a sweater on, I was still freezing. Once we could take it no longer we stopped in the plaza for a bit and then went out to a street filled with bars to dance for a couple of hours before calling it a night. There was no need to rush anything, as we had the whole weekend to relax and go to the beach...

Above: From a plaza in the center of Mar del Plata, post midnight, January 1, 2010

A (Quick) Year in Review

2009-12-31T13:21:00.001-03:00

A year in review, albeit a quick one. I chugged along through Ecuador and made the most of my experience there, wrapping up my year with some great friends and memories. The good times and the bad, they are mostly listed in the archives, and will always be accessible, long after I forget the majority of the details.

There were three quick weeks at home in Sharon, MA, filled with reunions and goodbyes. This time, I wasn’t sure how long I would be gone for, or when I would see my friends again. And then the arrival, so long awaited, to Buenos Aires. There was initial disappointment and struggle, which only continued with difficulty into getting into the Argentine life. Studying for the GRE, applying to grad schools, and trying to meet people at the same time, while starting a new job added to the stresses of moving to a foreign country by myself.

But I have rallied, and now that I’m done with the GRE and mostly completed with applications, there is more time for other things. Considerable growth took place, and I feel confident in my role in Latin America. 2009 was an interesting year in my life, and it goes without saying that 2010 will continue much in the same way.

Happy New Year. See you in 2010.

The Language Wall

2009-12-30T19:57:00.001-03:00

I've hit a big wall with my Spanish in the last few days. Suddenly I sound like an idiot, unable to roll my r's, conjugating poorly, and lacking vocabulary which was once a staple in my brain. It's funny, but I'm also having trouble communicating properly in English. It's as if my head is breaking down. I think I'm just tired, and need a slight break, just long enough to refresh myself.

In classrooms back home, they teach you the basics of Spanish, and justly so. Most people will never wind up working in a Spanish speaking environment, let alone speaking the language on a daily basis. The things I learned in class and through my own investment in Spain and Latin America, both in conversations and friendships, has put my skill at a high level. Not to brag, but I know how to ask where the library is and I can manage asking for a menu. No problems there. But in a classroom, they don't really teach you much business Spanish.

I'm continuously learning this as I go, trial by fire. If I sit down with a co-worker and talk about what I like to do and explain my background, we can have a good conversation. But when I need to ask someone how to make an extra cell on a spreadsheet, or explain that Mozilla Firefox wouldn't let me download some application because I don't have the latest version of Office, well then it just takes a bit longer for me to explain. And that somehow affects my confidence, which definitely affects how I sound. I'm well aware that I sound like an idiot most of the time in my office, but it's mostly because I have to learn new terms every day. I have a notebook filled with new vocabulary I've learned on the job.

Lately I've been translating a lot, and though it can be very difficult and challenging, I really enjoy it. Sometimes I have to ache over a paragraph for 40 minutes, but once it's done it sounds like it was actually written by a native speaker to begin with. It also helps me learn more vocabulary this way, though the problems generally arise from fancy menus with terms in French that I'm not even familiar with in English. This constant flux of English and Spanish throughout my day has me cross eyed and trying to keep up. Today I accidentally said, "That's mejor!" (That's better!)

These mental walls are normal in any second language, and they just as overcome-able as they are unavoidable. I've been through them before, and you always think you're brain has let go and you've lost the language. You just need some time to rebound, and you come back much stronger than before. It's amazing to feel the difference when your mouth forms words you didn't know you'd learned. All you can do is push on until that happens, even if you do sound like the village idiot on the job. I am the office idiot, I guess.

Tomorrow is New Years' Eve, and the time has flown by so quickly I haven't even noticed or had a chance to do a "year in review" kind of thing. We work a half day at the office tomorrow, and after I'll be heading south about 6 hours to Mar del Plata with my co-worker and her friends. Mar del Plata is a city of about 1 million people, located in the Pampas province. Apparently the beach gets so crowded you are elbow to elbow with people, and winds can get strong. It doesn't sound like the most picturesque beach, but then again Argentina isn't known for beaches.

We'll be spending the weekend there as well with the extra day off, and come back on Sunday night. So until then, have a happy new year.

Not So Fast, Foreigner!

2009-12-29T20:17:00.003-03:00

Maybe the title gives it away. Things didn't go so well at the Registro today. I could kind of tell from the moment I got there (early) before my "appointment" time at 9:30 am that things would be rough. Unlike last time, there were crowds of people sitting and standing around, waiting as an electronic board popped out numbers and names. I got my number, D54, and sat down with the others.

Aside from a quick attempt to jump the line, I waited patiently as the ticker counter achingly bled forward. D33, E2, D38, D78. D78! Wait, how did they get ahead? Finally my number was called, and I rushed over as soon as I could to window 8 before they called the next number. The large whale of a woman behind the counter was not as jolly as you might expect, and before I'd even opened my mouth she had an attitude. I explained what I was doing and she interrupted me for the ticket saying D54. "This will be good," I thought.

As she started looking through the photocopy of my mom's birth certificate, I could see her face turning into one of those, "I don't have time for this" frowns. But no time? It was barely 10 am and this was her job. Unless she gets paid by the person it shouldn't matter how long it takes. And judging by the entire process, they get paid by how few people they see. She got angry quickly when she ordered me to figure out how to spell my mom's original maiden name (it was changed in the United States), throwing the copy back at me rather than looking herself. I read it to her and she typed something in.

Next, she told me that the number on the top was unreadable and she couldn't give me what I needed. I told her that I was aware of that and that's what I was here for in the first place. That I'd already been through this two weeks ago, and that's why I came back, to get a fresh copy. But she would neither listen nor explain clearly what she wanted. Instead, she had me leave the Registro to make a photocopy of the photocopy next door.

I knew this was going no where, but sometimes when a ship is sinking you just go with the current. I came back and my place in line was obviously gone, but I cut back in and gave her the copy, saw her type something in, and then she gave me a sheet saying to come back in two weeks to pick up a new copy of the birth certificate. The EXACT thing that I was there for in the first place, after waiting two weeks. I tried again to explain this to her, but my words fell on deaf ears. If there was ever a recruitment poster for bullheaded government bureaucrats, this woman would be the campaign model.

I wanted to talk to someone else, but the line quickly developed 30 deep, and I was already late for work as it was. So with nothing else to do, I left the Registro. I did call the woman who helped me last time, and she agreed to come with me in two weeks to help me out, but it's cutting it awfully close to the actual DNI appointment in February. Walking to work I thought about this entire process, and I almost can't wait until I go home someday and run into an aggravating situation. I can't wait until someone tells me, "Hey man, be patient." And then I'll say, "Oh, let me tell you about patience, my friend. You ever tried getting citizenship in Latin America?"

Registro Civil, Take 5!

2009-12-28T21:39:00.000-03:00

Tomorrow morning I'm going back to the Registro Civil for the 5th time, and for the 2nd time in an attempt to pick up a copy of my mom's birth certificate. If everything has been filled out correctly and there are no more issues with the copy itself, then I will be one step closer to having my DNI. Assuming everything goes to plan, I'll return on February 1st to apply for the DNI.

If however, something should go awry, I'll probably have to go through this process again in two weeks. That is if the Registro Civil is over. The problem is that in January most government offices go on vacation. All of them. I'll also be leaving town for a couple of weeks, which won't help the situation either. It's comical, but not even worth noting anymore. I have an "appointment" to pick up the documents at 9:30 am, but no matter what time I get there, I'm sure it will be a mess.

This is a perfect way to finish out the year. Today I confirmed with a real estate agent that I'll be renting an apartment in Palermo, right next to Plaza Italia. This is going to be a more expensive apartment, but will put me in a great location, just in walking distance from the parks. Finally I'll be able to go for some runs after work. Tomorrow I'll be going to the agent's office to work out the details, and if all goes well I'd like to move in when I get back from Patagonia at the beginning of February.

Dinner Party in Banfield

2009-12-26T19:25:00.000-03:00

Last night my co-worker Vero invited me to join her and her friends for dinner in Banfield, a town in suburbia, Buenos Aires. This is a part of the province of Buenos Aires, and we took a commuter train to get there, arriving in about a half hour. Not surprisingly, the clutter and concrete of the city was left behind, and all around were green trees, cobblestone streets, and the sounds of birds. One way you always know you're in the suburbs is that occasional sound of a car slowly going by, rather than the hum of continuous traffic.

Banfield is also the home of the soccer club that just won the Argentinian league, winning for the first time in their history. It's an English name, and the architecture lives up to its name. We went for a quick ride to the store to pick up some supplies, along the way passing through for a little tour. It seemed like every house we saw was a colonial English Tudor, much like the kind I grew up in outside of Boston. Of course, Vero told me that like any town, there is a good part, so so part, and bad part. We were somewhere in the middle.

Recently, new department complexes and towers have been springing up, adding a new element to this sleepy town where the skyline is low. But it still had the feel of a great place to grow up, with peace and quiet, yet close and easy access to the city. About 15 people showed up for dinner, and though I mostly resigned myself to listening and drinking my Fernet and colas, it was a good experience to be deep in the middle of an Argentinian get together. We started with passing around the mate, obviously prepared much better than I'm capable of doing. Dinner was a help yourself sort of buffet, followed by discussions for New Years' Eve. I was invited to join some of the friends in Mar del Plata, so now arrangements will have to be made for a weekend there, as it's about 6 hours south of the capital. The only problem is that we'll be working a half day on the 31st, and so we'll be arriving in the beach town "later" on in the night.

Regardless, I'm sure the party will go all night long. A thunderstorm made the temperature drop and soon people headed home, calling it an early Friday night. So we caught the bus back into the city and by 2 am I was calling it a night, surprised at the hour I was in bed.

Congreso, Christmas Day

2009-12-25T18:31:00.000-03:00

Finally, after months of delay, I have knocked one off of the bucket list, and gone to take pictures of Congreso, which is only a few blocks from where I live. It's Christmas day, and the streets are mostly empty. Here's what I see.

A colorfully painted bus that was painted by my roommates' friend a few years ago. It always sits here.

Unfortunately, Argentina's economy is still hurting. This is a common scene in the city now. Dirty mattresses, where families sleep and spend their days.

Congreso, on a rare day without protests or picketers.

A typical scene in Buenos Aires. Hardly any bench space.

Congreso. Christmas day. 2009.