Reality...

Too bad I have not blogged in a while. Also too bad I did not blog more often while traveling and while being abroad. For now this is the last blog...

During my last week in Buenos Aires I wrote some things, which I am going to post below. Now that I am back, life is almost surreal. Surreal in the sense that it feels as if I never left. Just two weeks ago I was sitting in my small Argentine room on my small bed talking to my friends who had already gone home...dreading the next move: back to reality. back to responsibility. back to studying. back to a job. back to life. The vacation is over.

Being back really is not that bad. I think the worst part is now just wanting to get out of here, wanting to explore more. There is so much of this world I want to see and I want to see it now. But I have a year and a half of school and that needs to be completed first. Being abroad for six months only wet my appetite. I can't wait to get out and get away from American ideals and culture. Maybe that is part of reverse culture shock which I did not think I would experience, but alas, here it is!

Before I left I wrote:

I am going to miss the catcalls. I am going to miss enjoying my tea for over an hour, because it’s a social thing. I am going to miss getting my café con leche in a tiny little mug. I am going to miss living in a little apartment filled with beautiful artwork. I am going to miss speaking Spanish everyday and hearing the lovely Argentine accent. I am going to miss the family dog which never makes a sound, no matter how excited. I am going to miss going out at midnight and coming home when the sun is awake. I am going to miss strange conversations with taxi drivers. I am not going to miss ham. I am going to miss being called “divina” every day no matter how hungover I look. I am going to miss my host siblings, that always tease me for my lifestyle. I am going to miss taking the overfilled, stuffy, bus. I am going to miss alfajores. I am going to hearing the wise sayings of my host grandma. (“Goodnight, and have sweet dreams, not of the boys you already know, but of the men you will meet.”) I am going to miss my host mother more than words could ever explain. I am going to miss the honesty of the porteños. I am going to miss dogwalkers with their 15 dogs all at once. I am going to miss having to constantly watch my step because of what the dogs leave behind on the sidewalk. I am going to miss ferias. I am going to miss artesenias. I am going to miss strange men proclaiming their undying love to me before I speak a word. I am going to miss the amazing architecture surrounded by green trees. I am going to miss the tranquility embedded in locura. I am going to miss the culture. I am going to miss the adventure I find from everyday. I am going to miss the boliches. I am going to miss the Argentine swank. I am going miss hearing “cito” added on to most words, making things sound little and cute. I am going to miss awkward moments. I am going to miss my life and the person that I was while abroad.

In my last week in BA, I was in between worlds. All my friends had left and I was eagerly awaiting yet dreading the trip home. I knew it had to be done and my time in BA had come a temporary halt. This made the last week pretty tough. Nobody really understands what you are going through and they can only try to sympathize. Having an environment that you are completely happy with and having to leave, not know when or if you will return makes it very difficult. I was lucky enough to have the best host family and they really became so much more than that.

The experiences I have had have been amazing. I have learned so much about myself and life and culture and just learned in general.

Argentines:

They are honest. If they think something in their mind, they don’t think again before saying it out loud. That’s why men will tell you are “divina” as you walk by them. This isn’t them necessarily hitting on you, they don’t want to take you on a date. They want to tell you what they are thinking. If your aunt thinks you’re outfit does not look good or that you look fatter today, she will tell you. They don’t go out of their way for you. They wont move on the bus to the window so that you can have the aisle seat. They are selfish. They are loving, affectionate. They are beautiful.

Patricia showed me a poem that I want to always remember and share. Below is the translation. This poem is amazing and she showed it to me right before my trip and right before my best friend was leaving to go home to the states. The journey is within you.

Ithaca

When you set out for Ithaka
ask that your way be long,
full of adventure, full of instruction.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - do not fear them:
such as these you will never find
as long as your thought is lofty, as long as a rare
emotion touch your spirit and your body.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - you will not meet them
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raise them up before you.

Ask that your way be long.
At many a Summer dawn to enter
with what gratitude, what joy -
ports seen for the first time;
to stop at Phoenician trading centres,
and to buy good merchandise,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensuous perfumes of every kind,
sensuous perfumes as lavishly as you can;
to visit many Egyptian cities,
to gather stores of knowledge from the learned.

Have Ithaka always in your mind.
Your arrival there is what you are destined for.
But don't in the least hurry the journey.
Better it last for years,
so that when you reach the island you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to give you wealth.
Ithaka gave you a splendid journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She hasn't anything else to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka hasn't deceived you.
So wise you have become, of such experience,
that already you'll have understood what these Ithakas mean.

---Constantine P Cavafy

I also want to post a poem by Jorge Luis Borges, this might be one to live by.

Instantes (Instants)

If I were able to live my life anew,
In the next I would try to commit more errors.
I would not try to be so perfect, I would relax more.
I would be more foolish than I've been,
In fact, I would take few things seriously.
I would be less hygienic.
I would run more risks,
take more vacations,
contemplate more sunsets,
climb more mountains, swim more rivers.
I would go to more places where I've never been,
I would eat more ice cream and fewer beans,
I would have more real problems and less imaginary ones.

I was one of those people that lived sensibly
and prolifically each minute of his life;
Of course I had moments of happiness.
If I could go back I would try
to have only good moments.

Because if you didn't know, of that is life made:
only of moments; Don't lose the now.

I was one of those that never
went anywhere without a thermometer,
a hot-water bottle,
an umbrella, and a parachute;
If I could live again, I would travel lighter.

If I could live again,
I would begin to walk barefoot from the beginning of spring
and I would continue barefoot until autumn ends.
I would take more cart rides,
contemplate more dawns,
and play with more children,
If I had another life ahead of me.

But already you see, I am 85,
and I know that I am dying.

---Jorge Luis Borges

Obviously they look a lot in translation, but the message is still beautiful.

Being abroad showed me that things do happen for a reason. The butterfly effect of each decision leads you down a certain path and to a certain truth.

I am glad I had the chance to find my truth. I could not have done it without the support of my family.

Thanks for reading...

Until next time.

Peace and love.

20 Years Ago...

"20 years ago, it didn't look like this."

I am told Buenos Aires has changed. For the worse. Due to the economic crisis, this world is a a different place now. You can't walk more than half a block without seeing a man lying on the side of the street taking a nap, because this is his home--the streets. The most painful is worse yet, a mother sitting on the side of the dirty, polluted and noisy street, holding her infant. The child knows no better life, and most likely her future is not so bright. Because abortion is illegal here, children are born, no matter the circumstances. Some mother's choose not to stop drinking or smoking or doing drugs during their pregnancies, and many children are born with physical or mental disabilities. The families have nowhere to go, they beg for money. But just like everywhere else in the world--the money does not always go to a good place. Looking into the eyes of a 4 year old boy and refusing his request for a "moneda"is heart wrenching. To a grown man we say no because we figure the money is going to booze. But what is this 4 year old going to do? Will he buy some bread so that he does not go hungry today? Maybe, but I feel more likely he will give it to his parents, and then who knows where the money goes.

20 years ago Buenos Aires did not look like this.

I am told people had money, this city was one of the richest in the world, dominated by business and fashion. Now there is so much poverty that you cannot feel safe anywhere. Shouldn't something be done? Doesn't this seem like a problem that should be on the top of the governments to-do list?

When my father told my aunt, who Argentine, that I was coming here for my semester abroad, she simply replied with "No, that is not a very good idea." She told him it is dangerous for a girl to live here. She told him there are so many things to worry about. I, at first, questioned my reasoning for coming here, but now I am very happy.

Although this is a very European-Latin American city, maybe the most Euro of them all, but there is a signature spice to the city--which definitely isn't in the food. People are content. As I walked home today thinking about this blog, I walked by a women sitting cross-legged on the side of the street. Her baby girl was in her lap. She held her up and kissed her nose and looked into her eyes. There was a look of fortune-I cannot really explain it. This family probably does not have much to be thankful for, yet she smiled while looking at her pretty little girl dressed in pink. Once again, as I have said before, I am blessed with what I have. Yet, sometimes I am not happy. I feel like this is an American idea--wanting more. Because more=happy. And this is not the case. Sometimes its the little things in life that are the greatest and that we do not show enough gratitude for.

Family. A family that is there for you to talk, to help, to love.
A home. Not a house, not an apartment, but a place you feel love and comfort.
Happiness. Not because you just bought those adorable boots, which sometimes I confused with the feeling of happiness, but true contentment with lifestyle. I am still looking for my perfect pace, and being here is definitely steering me in the right direction.

20 years ago.
I was one year old. We were living in Kiev. We did not have that much, but we had each other. I am sure most people think this, but unfortunately some are not able to--I have one of the most amazing families there could be. Not only did I have a mother who would do anything for me, but I had a beautiful grandmother, that lived for the family. I have a father who worked (and still works) harder than any other man I know to get us to where we are today. If it weren't for him, I most likely wouldn't be here in Buenos writing this blog. I have two brothers that have both taught me more than I could ever teach myself. Sometimes, people just do not stop to take the time and realize how lucky they are.

I am very lucky.

I can only hope that one day, things will change within the world, within Buenos Aires, and poverty will magically reverse itself, and I will be able to walk the streets of this beautiful town without worrying if the man next to me is going to steal my things, or worse.

I hope today you can take a minute to realize how lucky you are and how wonderful the people are that you are surrounded by. I hope you realize, not everyone in the world can be as grateful as you.
Peace and love to you all.

Mixed Emotions

I had to fill out a survey for somebody studying Psychology about foreign exchange students in Buenos Aires. It asked if I am proud of the country I am from and if I defend it when I am given the chance. Honestly, I am not proud and I do not defend it. I don't think there are many countries around the world that people are ashamed of, and I know I am not the only one. Of course there are people that love the United States and are proud to say they stand by it at all costs; I am not one of them. I am very grateful for everything my family has been given and the opportunities we partake in, most of which would have been impossible in Ukraine, but nonetheless the stereotypes of the US embarrass me...mostly because they are true. Going out to dinner with 6 NORTHamericans (people here get upset if we say we are from America, it is ALL America) and finishing a ridiculous amount of food and having the waiter come over and say, "wow you were all very hungry apparently" is humiliating. No sir, we were not hungry, this is just what we do, we chow down as if we do not know when our next meal will be. What's worse is that was not the first or last time we will hear that.

Even though I am not studying that much, I feel like I am learning so much everyday. So much more than I ever learn at home on a daily basis while sitting in class. At the University of Buenos Aires, learning is mostly independent. You go to class and listen to the teacher but you have readings that are overwhelming in amount and you just have to teach yourself the material. It makes CU look like a joke...which is great because I can go back with a greater feeling of self-assurance in my academics...if I ever get the motivation to study back.

I have been trying to figure out what makes people so different yet at the same time so alike...Everything.

I went to a futbol game here with my 15 year old host brother. River is his team and he loves them win or lose. It was such an interesting experience. The crowd stands with passion as they watch their team play. They yell profanities at the referees and clap when their team almost makes a goal. River was losing for a little while and then when they made a goal, the crowd went wild. Everyone, whether they know each other or not, jump together, hold hands, and sing. Two minutes later, River scored again. It was unbelievable how happy and excited the crowd was. Passion like that really cannot be found at a football game.

On the way to the game, he told me about government corruption, which I had no idea happened to such an extent here...though I should have expected. There really is no opposition here, but everyone legally has to vote. So you are forced to vote and that makes it look like a democracy to the rest of the world, yet there is nobody else to elect. And if there is, you are bribed or blackmailed to vote. For example, they will take away your passport until you vote. Nobody has anything good to say about the current president, they all detest her, yet nobody can do anything about and they all voted for her. Hmm.

At an international students meeting for UBA the students were talking about how unwelcoming the Porteños are. They greet you by kissing you on the cheek and consider themselves cariñosos (caring) but when it comes down to it, they are quite snobby. It has been a general consensus that if you are not from here, they really are not that interested in getting to know you. In other places, people are more welcoming to foreigners...

Marriage is going down the drain and becoming a thing of the past, especially here. Which got me thinking, if there is so much infidelity and divorce....why even try? I know that is pessimistic but here, its very popular for men well into their 30's to be going to the clubs and getting with the 20 year olds, its acceptable.

There are so many psychologists here and so many people studying psychology that they are considering stopping the diploma for a while. Why are there so many here, as well as in the US? I know that is my major and my interest, but what makes so many people think they can solve others problems? And what makes someone believe a stranger can solve their problems? Furthermore, who the hell decided that if a 4 year old boy can't sit still or is easily distracted he needs to be given medication? Since when is attention span such a problem that is one of the most medicated "problems" in the US? What if "problems" do not exist? What if it is normal to be unhappy after a loved one dies or when things just don't go your way? What if everything is really "normal" just derivatives of it? Yet we all want to be the same and take drugs to do so...

AND among all those realizations, I am having the time of my life. This place is so rich in culture and so different than anything I could ever experience in suburban-Caucasian Boulder. I love the friends I have made and the experiences I have had.

I miss you all at home and hope everything is well, that is all for now.
Peace and love.

Foamy Funderland

Falling backwards into a pool of bubbles and bodies is scarier than it sounds. For the 7 seconds that I couldn't breathe or see anything, many thoughts ran through my head. Why am I doing this to myself? Where is my friend? How will I stand up? Where is my shoe? Who is touching my ass?

Foam party at a gay bar? Yes please. 5 feet of foam everywhere and people are soaked, dancing, and having a blast. Most definitely the best night I have had so far in terms of drunken fun...and I had it surrounded by gay men, transvestites, and straight men who are probably confused, what does that say about me?

I am finally starting to feel somewhat at home here. I love the culture. I wandered the feria of Recoleta (a park where artisans sell and musicians play) and took it all in. People sitting on the grass eating or making out (because they love PDA here) just warm my heart. They take the time to enjoy the day and the weather with people they love. Why are there no ferias in Colorado? Maybe there are not enough tourists, or it just is not part of the culture...in any case, I love it, along with the various things I bought.

As you probably know, I have to have my schedule pretty concise and planned. Here, that really isn't possible. I am getting the hang and growing the patience to wait for buses and subways and learn the ways of the late Argentine.

Questionable Fashion:
Rat tails? What is up with that...everyone seems to have them. They are fashionable? Or awkward mullets.
Camel toe nike shoes? Very not okay, not sure why those are in style.

I actually think that is all for now...

The Simple Life

Coming back to Buenos Aires after a peaceful weekend in Punta del Este reinforced my feelings about this city and where I would like to live in the future...definitely not a big noisy city.

I haven't really talked about the family I am living with...
I live with Patricia who has 4 kids. Her son is 15 and lives in the apartment as well. She also has 3 daughters, ages 20, 22, and 24 who are either at the house or their fathers house. The place is great because its artsy and modern since she paints. It is really nice living with someone who is into culture and appreciates the type of stuff I want to do and see. The family is so helpful in everything I want to do and after talking to some kids who also have homestays, I know I am very lucky.

Punta del este was perfect. It is definitely somewhere I could see myself enjoying a large amount of time. It is peaceful, the people are calm and nice, and there is not too much going on. Clearly it is a different story during the summer months where the streets are full of people and the parties are crazy. But living the life of a beach bum for 3.5 days was awesome. Really I was inspired by the simple yet content life of the chef in our hostel. This man can cook, sing, play the guitar and he acts. He was born and raised in this tourist town and he loves it. He has such a lust for life, he just smiles and sings and its powerful, not to mention, he is an epic chef. He got me to thinking...he has so many talents and I have none. So I am on a talent hunt. I am going to try out some painting classes and maybe a guitar class...playing the guitar, at least one really good song, is high on my list. Plus that's sexy as hell, eh?

After more than 4 months off from school, and what seemed to be the best winter break ever, I started again at the University of Buenos Aires on Monday. It felt like one of the most intense and intimidating days of my life. I was in a small class of 35. My teacher mumbles in a hush tone and speaks quickly. I sat for 3 hours and 15 minutes not understanding a word. I was confused and upset at my inability to understand anything, but I know with time it will come. We had to introduce ourselves and say something about us. "Hi, I am Lera, I am from the United States..." All heads turn to look at the strange foreign kid. Great.

In my university, you can smoke wherever you want. Everytime I go to class, my death comes closer and closer. People smoke in the bathrooms, in the halls, in the classes. And there is nothing I can do about it, it's pretty disgusting.

The people here--they are definitely different from Coloradoans...and especially Boulderites. They are aggressive and loud and in your face. They are selfish. I don't think they think about my well-being when they smoke inside a building, they just do it because they want to. They do everything, when and how they want to. I like it a lot...minus the smoking. They are honest, they are impatient. They are rude, but only by American standards. They are noisy. Pushy. Beautiful. Egotistic. Proud. They are not afraid to speak their minds. And for now, these are my people.

The food here-is way too good. Joining a gym was definitely a necessity. Pastas, breads, empanadas, oh my! Plus drinking...not so great on the bod. Salads here really don't exist...and the ones that do aren't so great. I ordered a tomato salad. I got tomatoes. Literally a bowl full of tomatoes. That just doesn't cut it. I miss vegetables. I am really tired of paying twice the amount an empanada costs for a water. I feel constantly dehydrated.

Why does society here allow theft to become such a problem? People wear their backpacks in front, its almost a fashion trend. I wonder why it happens in some places more than others. I understand people live in poverty. But does that mean their morals or values are lower than other...or do others just not have the necessity? What about spoiled rich bitches who steal anyway, what is their necessity? I just wish I could walk around feeling safe and not constantly watching my back.

That is all for now...I have a ridiculous amount of social psychology reading to do. In Spanish. Great. Leave me comments/questions if you'd like.

Peace and Love.