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...
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Sometimes things do not go as planned...
Today was supposed to be a day spent traveling by boat and bus to Uruguay, followed by beach and margaritas. The second half, not so much. After a pleasant 6 hour trip, we finally made it to the bus station in Punta del Este, Uruguay. Vanessa and I sat for about 10 minutes waiting for the bus to our hostel when we decided a taxi must be cheap in this country and embarked on our journey to find one. We walked for about 20 minutes to find a main street, only to see that no taxi´s passed. 30 minutes later, one finally drove by and stopped. I showed him the address I had written down. We started driving fast and far, dirt roads, bridges, you name it.
$470 Uruguayan pesos later, we made it. But no, we didn´t actually make it because the real reservation was at the other hostel, with the same name, but a different address. Half of the group made reservations at this hostel, but the other one was near the beaches and bars. So back on the road we went to find the bus that goes to the city and comes every half hour. We flagged a bus down and eventually got to the correct hostel--six blocks from the bus station we were originally at.
Tired and hungry we went to look for sushi...3 hours later we found it--closed.
Punta del Este is the quiet and peaceful break I´ve been wanting from the hecticness that is Buenos Aires. It is beautiful and lush here, trees everywhere (and mosquitos, can´t get away from those.) The people here are nice and calmer than in BA. Since it is down season, there are barely any people here and according to everyone, summer months are wild and the streets are packed with tourists. The beach is lined with hotel after gorgeous hotel. This does not really seem like a town for anyone but tourists.
There are some things I miss about the US: ketchup offered everywhere. Regular salads--not just tomatoes, Regular restaurant service instead of having to flag the waitress down to pay. People who understand what I am trying to say. Food that is healthy. Food that is not fried. FREE WATER...free refills.
I didn´t mention my apartment or my family last time...
I live in the center of everything in Recoleta, a neighborhood in Buenos Aires. It is near everything, and if it isn´t, then there is easy transportation to get everywhere. Taxis are relatively cheap so I don´t miss having a car really. The apartment is small but enough and I have everything I need. My family is super helpful and nice...haven´t figured out if they all want me there or not. I have definitely had some ditzy moves there...like hitting my head on the window panel when sitting beneath it. My ¨host sister¨had to clean up the blood and ice my head...yeah I am sure she thought that was a smart move.
I am already pretty annoyed of being hollared at and whistled at. But such is life.
Tomorrow--the beach. If all goes as planned...
$470 Uruguayan pesos later, we made it. But no, we didn´t actually make it because the real reservation was at the other hostel, with the same name, but a different address. Half of the group made reservations at this hostel, but the other one was near the beaches and bars. So back on the road we went to find the bus that goes to the city and comes every half hour. We flagged a bus down and eventually got to the correct hostel--six blocks from the bus station we were originally at.
Tired and hungry we went to look for sushi...3 hours later we found it--closed.
Punta del Este is the quiet and peaceful break I´ve been wanting from the hecticness that is Buenos Aires. It is beautiful and lush here, trees everywhere (and mosquitos, can´t get away from those.) The people here are nice and calmer than in BA. Since it is down season, there are barely any people here and according to everyone, summer months are wild and the streets are packed with tourists. The beach is lined with hotel after gorgeous hotel. This does not really seem like a town for anyone but tourists.
There are some things I miss about the US: ketchup offered everywhere. Regular salads--not just tomatoes, Regular restaurant service instead of having to flag the waitress down to pay. People who understand what I am trying to say. Food that is healthy. Food that is not fried. FREE WATER...free refills.
I didn´t mention my apartment or my family last time...
I live in the center of everything in Recoleta, a neighborhood in Buenos Aires. It is near everything, and if it isn´t, then there is easy transportation to get everywhere. Taxis are relatively cheap so I don´t miss having a car really. The apartment is small but enough and I have everything I need. My family is super helpful and nice...haven´t figured out if they all want me there or not. I have definitely had some ditzy moves there...like hitting my head on the window panel when sitting beneath it. My ¨host sister¨had to clean up the blood and ice my head...yeah I am sure she thought that was a smart move.
I am already pretty annoyed of being hollared at and whistled at. But such is life.
Tomorrow--the beach. If all goes as planned...
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
And so it began...
Wasn't really sure I wanted to make one of these, but to hell with that.
I came here with the intent every person my age has at one point or another: "to find myself." I am not sure what I am going to find yet, but I have fully experienced the fact that I am not an independent traveler. I don't enjoy going places alone, looking at art alone, and not having someone to share thoughts with, so I guess I will share them here until I find a better outlet. This trip is about taking risks and being spontaneous, 2 things I never do. I began my trip with anticipation but not too much hope since I was flying standby. After five miserable days of going back and forth to the Atlanta airport, I finally made it to Buenos Aires.
This place is never quiet, never calm. This is one of my main issues with this city and adjusting to it. Dogs are always barking, construction is bustling, people are yelling, babies are crying, and cars are honking their annoying horns while slamming their brakes and the tires screech. It is a lot to take in and handle.
Coming here without a program has proved to be as scary and intense as I expected. Not having constant companions and support has shown me my lack of independence...which I am working on, mostly because I have no other choice. Making friends is not the easiest task, I've found.
I went to San Telmo on a Sunday a week ago. Sunday is tourist day in this beautiful little barrio of Buenos Aires. The streets were filled with people walking around the market, eating ice cream (which is absolute perfection here) and smiling. A group of about 8 people began to play bongos, drums and other instruments and the movement changed from walking to dancing. It was a beautiful sight. These musicians probably don't make that much money, most people barely give anything and what they do give they have to split between each person. Yet their smiles and laughter, I wont forget. That is the difference between this country and the U.S. People here stop and enjoy life. It isn't about work--it's about living, no matter the circumstances.
I came here with the intent every person my age has at one point or another: "to find myself." I am not sure what I am going to find yet, but I have fully experienced the fact that I am not an independent traveler. I don't enjoy going places alone, looking at art alone, and not having someone to share thoughts with, so I guess I will share them here until I find a better outlet. This trip is about taking risks and being spontaneous, 2 things I never do. I began my trip with anticipation but not too much hope since I was flying standby. After five miserable days of going back and forth to the Atlanta airport, I finally made it to Buenos Aires.
This place is never quiet, never calm. This is one of my main issues with this city and adjusting to it. Dogs are always barking, construction is bustling, people are yelling, babies are crying, and cars are honking their annoying horns while slamming their brakes and the tires screech. It is a lot to take in and handle.
Coming here without a program has proved to be as scary and intense as I expected. Not having constant companions and support has shown me my lack of independence...which I am working on, mostly because I have no other choice. Making friends is not the easiest task, I've found.
I went to San Telmo on a Sunday a week ago. Sunday is tourist day in this beautiful little barrio of Buenos Aires. The streets were filled with people walking around the market, eating ice cream (which is absolute perfection here) and smiling. A group of about 8 people began to play bongos, drums and other instruments and the movement changed from walking to dancing. It was a beautiful sight. These musicians probably don't make that much money, most people barely give anything and what they do give they have to split between each person. Yet their smiles and laughter, I wont forget. That is the difference between this country and the U.S. People here stop and enjoy life. It isn't about work--it's about living, no matter the circumstances.
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