A Difference in Falls

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.