A (Quick) Year in Review

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

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!

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!

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

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

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.

Timeline: December 24th

2:30 am: Wake up call from Javier, who asks if I want to meet up with the guys for some drinks. It turns out he doesn't have work in the morning. I do.

4:30 am: Wake up with no feeling in my right arm. It hangs limply and looks like the bones have disappeared. For a moment I consider that I've dislocated my shoulder in my sleep, until the pins and needles, along with the pain come back. Continue sweating in the heat, fall back asleep.

5-7:30 am: Come in and out of consciousness as the heat makes it hard to sleep. Heavy rains start to fall.

8:30 am: Head to work in the dark morning, with heavy thunderstorms. The streets are empty, as most people appear to have the day off. I can actually see down past Avenida 9 de Julio but don't recognize it without all of the traffic going by. Pant bottoms get wet.

9:30 am: Receive gift of T-shirt from the office. Continue working while simultaneously finding out that plans I thought I had for a dinner with friends were actually for tomorrow. No plans for holiday (Christmas) dinner. Bummer kicks in.

2:30 pm: Wish co-workers a Merry Christmas and head home. On the way pick up a bootleg copy of "Extract" with Jason Bateman in the street for $10 pesos. Night activity is set. Streets are buzzing a bit more than the morning, but comparatively, the Microcentro is a ghost town.

3:30 pm: Decide to take a nap, wake up an hour or so(?) later, have Skype conversation with Ricardo Hernandez back in Chicago. Ricardo tells me it's cold in Chicago. It's hot and sticky in Buenos Aires.

4:30 pm: Finally agree to take advantage of the free afternoon and the emptiness of the streets. Go for a run down to Puerto Madero and back home. The streets are nearly empty, and it's creepy. The Microcentro has that feel to it like a town from some post-apocalyptic movie from the 80s with Mel Gibson. I half expect to see people huddled around a fire in an oil drum and some kid trying to sell me a fresh human liver. This is no place for a kid. Run was good, but I must have overheated, as sweat drips down like rain and my face is beet red.

6:50-8 pm: Talk to friends on Skype and on Gchat. Everyone seems to be home for the holidays.

8:15 pm: Begin preparing and cooking chicken Parmesan with spaghetti. Not a very difficult, but consuming process that requires delicate attention for the best results. Only the second time cooking this. Again, I have no one to share this with, or prove that I was able to cook something so good. Still, more food for me.

9:30 pm: Finish cooking, sit down to meal. It's incredible. Be jealous.

10 pm: Spend almost as much time cleaning up the kitchen as was spent preparing the food. Retire to my upstairs bedroom to watch "Extract" while hearing fireworks (or gun shots, or garbage trucks, or car accidents) outside in the streets. Distracted with this blog.


10:52 pm: Finishing this blog. Now. At the end of this period. Period.