A stream
Coy pond with fish
Stones on the ground
Pagoda
The biggest rat I've ever seen
Sunday, February 28, 2010
The Japanese Gardens
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
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 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.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
The Earthquake in Chile
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.
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
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.
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.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Grad School Bound
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!
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!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
When Am I Going to Need This?
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.
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.
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