I'm Home!

And South America was awesome! The following cultural things I will try to bring back to Canada:

1) Mate - Argentina's answer to Canada's addiction, the large double-double, which I prefer over coffee

2) Greetings - in South America, people greet each other with a hug and a kiss on the cheek (TWO kisses in Brazil)

3) Openness - in South America, especially Argentina, people were SO nice to me, inviting me out with them for the weekend after just meeting them, setting me up to stay at their house with their family for a weekend, showing me around their hometowns, and just being really friendly, open people. I wanna be more like that.

4) There's more... I should've written it all down. Fuck it, whatever. Go for yourself. If you get the chance. It's cheaper than Europe or the UK. And much more interesting and friendly. Do it.

Hasta Luego! (Jeff, that's Spanish for "See you later")

The Most Beautiful Place I've Seen...

...is Iguazu Falls, on the border of Argentina and Brazil. Niagara Falls, beautiful as it may be, is the unborn fetal twin of Iguazu. There are 2 sides: the Brazilian side gives you a panoramic view of most of the falls, whereas the Argentine side gets you up close and personal. Everytime I walked around a corner on the Brazil side I would keep seeing more falls, more rushing water. I took a lot of pictures, but they still won't be able to give someone the feeling of what it is like to be there, to see this place. Absolutely gorgeous.

The Argentine side was even better cuz we got to walk alongside the tips of the falls and things were so much closer and more intimate. As my British buddy on my tour, Andy, pointed out (to be fair, I have many British buddies on this tour), it's kind of freaky walking along this pathway set up at the edge of these falls, when they are growing all the time. The sheer force of the water is pounding away at the rocks and the edges, so they eventually give and break away. One day they will need to make completely new pathways because these falls will have expanded even more.

My recommendation is, if you ever want to travel to see something of sheer, incredible, unbelievable beauty and raw, natural power... come see these falls. The upside is that Argentina is a lot cheaper of a place to visit than the US for example (which is where the second most beautiful place I've ever seen is: Yellowstone National Park). The further upside is also that people in South America tend to love Canadians (haha f--- you, American friends whom I love).

Seriously... the widest range of waterfalls in the world. And I got to take a speedboat that drove us right into them. Fuckin' awesome. Absolutely fuckin' awesome.

I Mow Your Mom's Lawn

This has nothing to do with my post. It was written on a T-shirt in Cordoba. But now I am in Buenos Aires for the weekend. But this post will be about a weekend in Misiones, which is in the Northeast tip of Argentina. I will explain.

The girl/young woman who set up my whole trip with the Spanish school with me while I was in Canada planning things, she lives in Cordoba. And I got to meet her a couple times while there and she is one of the nicest people I have ever met. So nice that when I told her I wanted to visit Misiones for the long weekend (this past weekend), she contacted her family there and told them to help me out. So I ended up spending the weekend with them. 

Her father picked me up at the bus terminal on the Friday morning of last week. And her youngest brother (who is a little older than her) helped me plan my weekend, including calling different tourism agencies, because he is studying to be a "tourist guide" (these days I can't tell the difference between proper English and broken English). And then afterwards he took me around his town (Posadas) and told me its history and afterwards we had milkshakes together on the border of Rio Parana which runs between Argentina and Paraguay. So it's cool, I got to see Paraguay.

On Saturday I took the bus to see San Ignacio, which has a UNESCO World Heritage Site - the Jesuit ruins there. It was really fascinating with an interesting history and afterwards I got to see the house of Horacio Quiroga who is a very famous writer from the 20s or 30s.

On Sunday I went to Obera which has a strong history of being a settlement for immigrants to Argentina. I visited the Parque de los Naciones which is where all these little houses are set up to represent 25 or so different nationalities that are open unfortunately only during the big festival at the beginning of September. But I got to go to the museum which was really cool. And then after I saw the Jardin de las Pajaros (Garden of the Birds) which was very beautiful and peaceful and I got to see a toucan and I felt like I was in one of those movies where they mix live action with cartoon. That's how fluorescently-coloured this toucan was. And I saw peacocks too, including a male presenting to a female, if ya know what I mean.

Monday is the interesting anecdote day. I didn't see anything particularly interesting other than mate (pronounced ma-tay) fields, which is what they drink instead of a Large Double-Double. And so I went to visit Apostoles, but it was empty and almost everything was closed, on account of it being La Dia de la Virgen (The Day of the Virgin), which I know nothing about other than it's a very religious holiday that is like a big lead-up to Christmas. 

ANYWHO, back up: I'm in the bus terminal at the beginning of the day having trouble finding a bus that goes to Apostoles on account of the holiday. I go to talk to the woman in the tourist info kiosk except she is not there. Some guy comes up to me asking me what I need - I tell him because so far people here have been very helpful. I had been on my guard at first because that's what you do when you visit another country, but had let it down after people had been all like "Wow a real live tourist from outside of Argentina! And Canada, how exotic!" So this guy tells me I have to take a cab for 50 pesos. I tell him that 50 sounds too much, but he says that it is not possible to take a bus and so I have to take a cab and sends me to this other guy who says "yes, yes, come with me to this cab" (all this in Spanish). I suddenly find myself in a cab with a driver and his friend and we're off. I figure what the hell, I've been saving all this money by staying with a family instead of in hostels and getting free breakfasts and suppers as well. So anywho, I get in (stupid!) and then along the way the guy says "Oh we need 30 pesos for gas" when we stop at a gas station. So I give him the 30 pesos, thinking I will only need to give him 20 later. Then afterwards, in the middle of these beautiful fields and expanses... the fucker tells me I need to give more money! To avoid the risk of getting Munson'd out in the middle of nowhere, I decide to give him my money. 

So in the end I was out 200 pesos or so by these assholes... but the strange thing is that, when I think of it, I still had a wonderful weekend. The real highlight of the trip was living with this awesome family in a small town in Argentina - a mother, father, and their 3 sons (their daughter and oldest son don't live with them anymore). And on Sunday night there was a birthday party for their youngest son and the mother which was a lot of fun and one of the mother's friends was really drunk (well a few of them were) and she made me dance with her for a bit. It was fun'n'funny. And when I got back and told my friend Eli (the daughter) about it she was really glad to hear I had a great time. And when I told her about my shitty taxi ride, she said "I dunno why people do this. These people come from another place to see your country and I dunno. You should treat them like a king" (which is pretty much how she, her family, and everyone at the Spanish school had treated me). The people in Cordoba were unbelievably nice.

And so were the people in Misiones! In every town, once people heard my accent, they wanted to talk to me and find out about my country and what it is like and discuss things. One guy even asked me if I had Canadian coins to show him, which I unfortunately didn't. But I would've given him a quarter or a loonie, why not? Most of these people know nothing of Canada. Especially the two taxi assholes I had. The guy who wasn't driving would say stuff like "See this? So green. Not like Canada, Canada is very dry." And "I studied Canada, you guys caused wars between England and France" and how people in Canada are more closed and people in Argentina are more open (which is for the most part is true, but he doesn't know fuck about Canada), and other stupid shit. That probably pissed me off more than taking my money. I can always get more money (sorry for all those calls, Mom and Dad) and these are people who probably really need money. Maybe they feel driven to it cuz of their country's shitty economic situation, I dunno. I saw the movie Nueve Reinas (Nine Queens), Argentina's answer to The Sting, and I felt like I was in the middle of that movie.

Anywho, the point is, Misiones is one of the coolest, most beautiful, and most likeable provinces in Argentina. And on the tour I'm about to start I will get to visit it's northernmost corner for a couple of days to see the great big Iguazu Falls (which apparently dwarf Niagara Falls). And I would love to visit Posadas and Obera and Apostoles (not on a holiday) again... I just won't take a fuckin' taxi.

In case you were worried about my absence...

I've been doing stuff, lost my debit card, had to cancel it, had no money at the time, yadda yadda yadda, everything's fine now. Further details are more fun to explain in person, when I get back (in less than 4 weeks).

Now, I will be leaving for Misiones (the most NE province of Argentina, on the border of Paraguay and Brazil). I will probably have a nice post about that when I return.

Abrazos all around!

Funny Clothings

A little girl at the place I work at got Carlos, one of the workers there, to ask me what the writing on her shorts meant - it said "Girls League" in cursive pink writing. Which helped bring me to the conclusion that people here love to wear shirts that have English words on them, without knowing what those words mean.

Ejemplo - I saw a shirt that was like the following...
SONG:
ARTIST:
DATE:
ALBUM:
in big neon letters, each word a different colour. A little weird, I think.

Some of my other favourites:
I THOUGHT THAT I COULD GIVE IT ONE MORE CHANCE
LOVE IS A LUCKY GAME
HELLO, I LOVE YOU
and, my personal favourite
I KNOW JACK!

This all got me to thinking of a couple shirts I had from Bluenotes when I was in high school that had Chinese (or something) characters on them. For all I know I had been walking around Graydon sporting clothes that said EAT A PILLOW.

Homesickness (And Other Third World Illnesses)

So Córdoba has been really awesome thus far, although I spent the weekend in Mendoza (another nice little city in Argentina), so I haven't spent too much time here. When I first arrived, I think I caught a good bout of homesickness, but I think I found the cause. In Buenos Aires I had so many things to do and to distract myself with, whereas Córdoba is much more relaxed, there are plenty of things to see and do, but it's not as busy as BA and I'm also not living in a residence with tons of other students in the heart of the city. I'm living with a sweet old lady out on the west side of the city, off the city tourism map in fact.

But now that I've met some people and found some things to do, I think I'm okay. The people here are really really nice. I even got to meet the young woman who helped me coordinate my trip by email when I was organizing things back in Canadá.

However, homesickness is not the only disease that has been going around. Last Tuesday I caught some sort of physical ill-feeling from eating a sandwich in the food court of the mall by my house, which I vomited up early the next morning. I told my host abuela (grandma) about it and she said that contaminated, unfresh meat is a problem in Argentina, so I should purchase the cenar (supper) plan with her, which I have done. I had my first meal by her last night and it was delicious. So illnesses cured there...

As for my volunteer work, I have been working for about a week now in an after-school program for underprivileged kids. I've done stuff like draw pictures with them, teach basketball and soccer, and drink tea/sugary milk with them (they love putting sugar in milk in Argentina, which ironically seems to taste sweeter than their chocolate milk). It's an absolute blast and they are all really friendly with me, even though they sometimes get mad when I don't give them exactly what they want... but of course Canadian kids never do thaaat.

It is kinda sad that their soccer field has a lot of garbage all over it and that one of the kids (I noticed this yesterday when he smiled in my face - that's exactly how it sounds) had a huge black mark on one of his front teeth, which I assume is a cavity. And other kids have scratches and marks on their faces that have been there for days. But at the same time, when these kids are kicking around a soccer ball they are having a blast and they love trying to play tricks on me cuz I don't speak their language very well... which is fun. It is. Confusing, but fun, and it makes them happy. On Friday they had heard someone playing a rap song on their car radio or something and were all asking me "Qué signifique 'mothafucka'?" I just told them don't worry it's a mal palabra (bad word). Then of course a few of them tried to make me say some mal palabras... oh kids.

Oh yeah and sorry Mom'n'Dad I didn't tell you about the getting sick and stuff, I didn't want you to worry. I'm fine now. Más o menos.

Hola Córdoba!

I feel like this warranted a separate post, so if you come to this one, read the one below it before you read this. Assuming you care to follow along my exploits to a chronological T...

Córdoba is really nice. There are lush green trees along the sidewalks, a really nice city center, still a plentitude of bars and places to go, while still remaining más tranquilo (more tranquil) than crazy-ass Buenos Aires. The drivers here are still crazy, just un poco menos loco. If there's one stereotype I'd give Argentines it's that they have a Jekyll'n'Hyde thing going on with driving - they are wonderful, nice people on the sidewalks and in buildings but when they are in cars they can be nuckin' FUTS! Gas, break, honk! Gas, break, honk! Honk, honk, punch! Gas, gas, gas...

Anywho, I've been here for a couple days now, I start my volunteering tomorrow (I'm gonna teach the kids soccer & basketball!) and everything so far looks like it's gonna be really nice. My host family (which, as most host families consist of, is an old woman) is really nice and kind, as is my Swedish roommate Joanne.

Anywho, I don't really have anything witty or inspirational to say. I'm not even gonna attempt.
Hasta luego, chicos!

OooOOOooh, Third World, boogity boogity boogity

I started writing this on Remembrance Day (does that mean anything?) but then got distracted by friends going out for Thai food and then one thing led to another and another and all of a sudden it's exactly a week later and I'm in Córdoba.

So before I came to this crazy-go-awesome country, I got a lot of warnings, especially in respect to living in Buenos Aires. The main reason I'm in BA for 4 (instead of 8) weeks is because the volunteer work I had signed up for was in a "dangerous area" with a lot of violence and crime, etc etc. And I'm not saying they were wrong... at least about that. And there definitely is violence and crime but I feel that it just must not be directed in my direction. Although that said other people I have met have experienced being mugged or what-have-ye. But I feel like the closest I got to being robbed was having two guys on the street bargain me for money. First asking if I could give them a peso or two, then saying two pesos each, then asking for one more (5 pesos for a pizza), and then saying "5 or 10?" to which I responded "my limit is 5", as if I were an ATM telling a customer they were overdrawing their daily withdrawal limit.

My point is, I guess, that although Argentina is a third world country, and Buenos Aires is the capital of this third world country, I feel like these definitions can be misleading. Violence and crime is a problem, but only in certain areas and only for certain people. For a city where it was almost expected that I get mugged or pickpocketed at least once, as part of the experience, it is a very pleasant city with a lot of wonderful people who are willing to help me when I get lost. Interesting sidebar: it's considered rude here to just say "No sé (I dunno)" when someone asks you for directions, so people will give directions even if they do not know, just cuz they wanna help. Also interesting, when I was introduced to the kids at my volunteer placement, it was considered polite and mandatory for me to exchange un beso (a kiss) on the cheek, which is considered molestation back home.

So I'm sort of stuck here wondering... is it that things have changed/improved since my Argentine contacts have immigrated to Canada? Or is it just that I'm not seeing something that they know? Certainly, I do see the poverty, what with the people who were rifling through my residence's trash when I'd come out at night, or the little girls frowning and holding out their hands on the streets and in the subway stations, or the people sleeping on rugs or garbage bags in the middle of a crowded street, etc. But I wonder if maybe people overshot themselves with the violence. I am sure there are violent areas. I've steered clear of them at night. I went to La Boca to see a soccer game and eat and drink maté afterwards, but we left the area before sundown. And I never visited the suburbs I was warned about. But I can't help but wondering if this is the same as people warning me about the dangerous city of Halifax because they heard of stabbings in The Commons, or the dangerous city of Toronto because they heard a gunshot in Regent Park. I dunno...

Oh and by the way, Mom & Dad, apparently my residence was located in a dangerous dirty area of town, according to a porteño I met at a party. Ah well. Maybe I'll get mugged when I return to BA for a weekend next month. ¿Here's hoping?

Criss-Crossing Cultures

Yesterday I did a kinda peculiar thing. I went to lunch at this place that was recommended to me by my Lonely Planet Buenos Aires' guide. I ended up reading a book about Afghanistan while eating in a French restaurant. In Argentina. Quite a mix. It actually confused me a bit because it's an intense, enveloping story, so when I left the restaurant I started equating Buenos Aires with Afghanistan. And although this city has its problems, it's nowhere near anything like Afghanistan.

But the activity itself got me thinking about my multi-cultural/cross-cultural experience here. Back in Mississauga, things are multi-cultural, I have friends from places all over Asia and went to high school with a lot of kids who were first-generation Canadians. But here I feel like I get a much more intense multi-cultural experience because everyone here is first-generation from a place that is not Canada. True, the residence has a couple Americans, there's another one in my class, and a few others at the school, but mostly people are here from all over Europe and Brazil. In my two weeks here, I have met people at the school here from Brazil, England, Ireland, Germany, Russia, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Finland, Switzerland, Trinidad, Israel, and the US. And I also met a backpacker from Australia. And most of all, Holland. So many Dutch people. Like maybe... half the people in the residence. I love it.

And it's really interesting because in Canada, although I get to see people expressing their own customs, like going to mosque and wearing hijabs and stuff, I still get the feeling they all interact in a Canadian way. We all adopt the same sort of Canadian/North American way of interacting and appreciation of culture (both pop and regular kind), whereas here we I feel we really share & mix our different ways and cultures. Whenever a Canadian pop icon comes on TV or on a radio, I point it out. And other people introduce to each other their favourite movies, stories, and sayings from their country. It was interesting just to make note of the differences in culture between England and North America by arguing which version of The Office is better. I did not argue in favour of the French-Canadian one.

One thing that does seem to unite everyone is the influence of American culture (again, both pop and regular). Everyone here has seen the major American movies, listens to American music (and sometimes Canadian music - I had a cab driver last night who said one of his favourites is Neil Young), and followed, to some extent, the American election. I'll just give a brief "WOOO! OBAMA!" and say little more. I'm glad he won, as is everyone here, except maybe Hadar, my Israeli friend. She said she wasn't sure because she feels like McCain will be more supportive of Israel. But the point remains that even in Argentina the election was a big deal. TV channels followed how Latin Americans in the US were voting, what the trends were, and what it would mean for Argentina. And the Latin American channels all have American shows & movies with Spanish subtitles or dubbed over. It's funny seeing Will Smith talk with a distinct Argentine accent. When I was in line at the bank waiting to pay for my Brazil tourist visa (which I think is a big enough tale to save for a post on its own), I was talking to this guy from Miami who was saying that he had learned in his Latin American culture class here about all the influence that the US has had on Argentine politics. The American influence both overpowers and unites people here, at the same time.

It's also fun to see how people of all different cultures here are united by their own hopes and aspirations and anxieties. Just this afternoon I was talking to my Swedish friend (of Iranian heritage) Sadaf and my French friend Rafaele about our interests and career aspirations. And I like that the whole "quarter-life crisis" (a term coined, yo creo, by Tomas Hachard) is universal across all cultures. A lot of people here, the ones who are staying for two months or more (some people are gonna be here for almost a year!), are taking a break from university, are here for a university course, have just graduated university (me!), or are here in lieu of university. So we share being in the same boat and going through the same things and making the same jokes.

We are all so diverse and similar at the same time. And that's my public message for the day.

P.S. A conversation I had on the way to the computer with my friend Peter from Denmark, who has a thick Danish accent:
Me: I had to take a freezing cold shower just to cool off.
Peter: Because you are so hot?
Me: Yeah exactly. So hot.
(Pause.)
Peter: I hope you noticed I was kidding.

Even wit travels across cultures.

Los Porteños Felices

Bonjour my amigos! This post will definitely be more upbeat than my last ones, not that they were downers, per se, but this one will be a lighter, more fun look at life in Buenos Aires.

So Saturday morning I headed out (which was tough at first cuz I´d been out till 6am the night before) with a Norwegian, a Swede, a Dutchie, and a Swiss to this nice, kinda touristy suburb of BA called Tigre. It´s kind of like Argentina´s version of Venice, what with the water everywhere and needing to travel by boat to reach destinations. At first we were worried we wouldn´t be able to find some nice canoeing or kayaking because it was only private rowing clubs there, but then we took a boat ride down the river and found this nice quiet residential area. This old(ish) woman from this restaurant (where we would later have a late lunch) pointed us down a path that led us to this really wonderfully nice hippie guy and his friends. He rented us two canoes and we paddled up and down this really peaceful river, it was quite lovely (I´ve taken to speaking British phrases while maintaining my Canadian accent, due to the high level of British folk here).

On the train ride back from Tigre, Claude (Swiss) and I began talking to this woman with a bicycle and she invited us to her house for dinner on Monday with her, her friend, and her daughter so that we could practice English and Spanish together. But more on that later...

On Sunday, a bunch of us went to La Bombanera to see the Boca Juniors (the local, ¨working-class¨ team of BA) face Rosalita Central in a fútbol match. You can buy fixed seat tickets, but it´s cheaper (and I would argue a lot more fun) to buy the regular tickets and sit on the bleachers, shoulder-to-shoulder with everyone. Although just before the game began everyone stood up to watch, which I had never seen before. Also they really pack these stands. It´s not like they have a fixed ¨amount¨ of people the stadium fits. I guess they make more money if less fat people show up.

Anyhow, once the game got started, people began going wild. We sat on the ¨mas tranquilo¨ side of the stadium, as a couple of the girls were worried about there being fights breaking out, knifings, or whatever, which actually doesn´t happen at these games... anymore. It´s not like we´re at a Chelsea-ManU game or something. Although we could see the more rowdy side and it looked like a lot of fun, there were people playing music with drums and horns, with more dancing and singing. On our side though it was still really exciting. My English friend Paul was saying how at English football matches teams´ll have maybe 2 songs, and they´re like droning chants. Here, they had probably 7 or 8 proper team songs, with actions and choruses and everything. There was almost constant singing, people shouting advice to the players and cheering them on whenever one of their players made a good play.

This turned out to be a particularly awesome match to go to because Boca scored a goal within the first 8 minutes of the game. They started out dominating, but then let themselves slip in the second half, letting in a weak goal to tie the match up. They started coming alive again, having some great corner kicks and some close scoring chances, but weren´t able to convert. Then with three minutes until stoppage time, the ball was crossed in front of the net, went off one Boca players´ head to a teammate who made a beautiful scissor-kick, the ball went into the net, the goalie never had a chance. BOOM! Everyone went crazy! It was SO fun, SO exciting, SO great to be there! People didn´t stop cheering until 5-10 minutes after the game ended. We had to stay there in the stands because they lock the doors, so they can let people out slowing instead of all at once. But other than that, and the fact that the opposing fans spit on you in the second half if their team is losing (I got a little on my shoulders and a glob on my hat), it was SO COOL! I bought a team shirt for a souvenir from a street guy, which was a ripoff but not expensive when you factor in exchange rates (40 pesos, i.e. 12-13 bucks American). And I really wanted an Argentine soccer jersey to wear at home. I didn´t buy one before the game because all the people who wore jerseys during the game looked like such turistas.

So Monday my friend Claude and I got to hang out with some good ole porteños at their home in Recoleta, which is a nice neighbourhood (I wouldn´t have gone if it was in La Boca or San Telmo or one of the other somewhat-shady barrios). Despite this, they didn´t live in any swanky place - an apartment with a bedroom for the mother, one for her daughter, a small kitchen, and a living room. It was really nice and she made us a delicious Argentine pizza (sort of) dish with cheese and onions, followed by a really nice pot of meat and vegetables, with some ginger cake for dessert. It was all so good, as she had promised. We ended up talking music with her, languages and school with her daughter, I talked Argentine politics with her friend, and we ended up staying for 5 hours, till one in the morning. Claude and I had to get back to la residencia in time to go out to the club downstairs with our housemates.

Today, I got to meet another local as I went with my New Yorkah friend to get a video rental card from her porteño cousin. He was really nice and the three of us hung out briefly at his apartment, I met his dad who asked me what my last name is (which apparently is a common question Argentine people ask foreigners). Turns out they know almost nothing of Canada, they get no news of us which Roberto (the father) said must mean, ¨No news is good news, ¿sí?¨ Not quite. But anyway. They were really nice.

And it´s good to be meeting lots of locals. I still have contacts from my parents and my Spanish teacher that I have to call, but I had been hesitating because I was nervous about contacting people who I had such a vague connection to. But now that these people to whom I have had an even looser connection are being so friendly and wonderful with me, then it shouldn´t be a problem. I will contact them the next chance I get. Although I dunno when that´ll be because tomorrow I have a busy day of going to the Brazilian Consulate to obtain a travel visa, followed by dinner with Claude´s and my new Argentine friend and milonga tango lessons (also with her and Claude). I´m gonna start learnin´ some tango...

As my friend´s cousin said, ¨¿See? We are not all horrible people who steal and rape¨ (which have happened to students here).

See Mom and Dad? Totally safe.

Más Poesía Menos Policía

This is a graffiti message I saw scrawled on a wall opposite of a club I went to Wednesday night, as I was leaving. It basically means ¨More Poetry, Less Policing¨, which I think is an image that really represents the vibe Buenos Aires gives me.

For those of you who don´t know, Argentina is in many ways still reeling from the period of 1976-83 when, under the military government, 30,000 people disappeared (not including the people who were openly wrongfully imprisoned, tortured, and murdered). The walls of Buenos Aires are covered in graffiti, both political and romantic. You might find a ¨JP + MS¨ scrawled next to ¨Peron Lives!¨, a statement that may be in jubilation or in despair. There is a passionate romantic tale underlying the stories of the porteños (people from Buenos Aires); people walk arm-in-arm while making out in the middle of the day, just cuz, instead of walking hand-in-hand and giving pecks just when they say hello or goodbye.

Earlier in the night, when we showed up in our cabs to the club Museum (which was okay but I wasn´t a big fan), there were little kids, probably around the ages of 8 or 9, opening our doors for us saying ¨One dollar. One dollar please.¨ Some people gave them money (e.g. my Swiss friend Claude), some people told them to fuck off (my Dutch friend Leanna), and one person, my British friend Paul, tried to teach them that ¨dollar es americano; es peso en inglés, tambien¨. Since this moment, I´ve noticed I´ve had a quite a few people coming up to me on the street at night, asking for money. One guy kept trying to haggle me for more and I couldn´t remember enough Spanish to comfortably communicate with me and then my Swedish friend Sadaf said if I didn´t wanna pay him any more I didn´t have to and I ended up just going inside, leaving him with a 4-peso donation.

I find this city is a beautiful wonderful place, but it is in a sort of limbo, being torn back and forth between romance and disillusionment. I had a great little conversation with a cab driver who I told I was Canadian. He asked me, ¨Canadá, es mejor de Estados Unidos, sí?¨ to which I replied ¨Errr, ummm, well... sí.¨ He and I then had a fun conversation about fútbol and where he was from and what he thought of Córdoba (cuz I´m going there for a month in three weeks from now). It was really nice conversation, a great connection, and he warned me, in a very friendly manner, about the craziness of the Boca Juniors soccer stadium La Bombonera (which I´m going to this Sunday with some folks). It was one of those instances that I had come to Buenos Aires for, to really see the people for who they are. To see the wonderful warmth that people extend to each other and strangers, especially those who have come to their land to learn their language. But at the same time, if you want to see the real Buenos Aires, you can´t ignore the kids opening your cab door asking for money. You can´t ignore the guy hassling you for pizza money outside your door. You can´t ignore the people in Plaza de Mayo (the city center where the country´s headquarters La Casa Rosada) who sleep on a bed of garbage bags that spill their contents onto their clothes and the street.

I really am loving it here. And I guess I do get a bit of a thrill, in a sociologist sort of way, from seeing these situations firsthand. It´s sad. But there´s also a lot of beauty and excitement coming from people in the same situations as the guy who was hassling me for pizza money. And there´s so much here. It´s a city chock full of experiences and sites and cultures and neighbourhoods.

I look forward to seeing the fútbol match in La Bombonera... apparently my British friends Tom and James got spit on (not on purpose, just that there´s a lot of spitting). It, too, is supposed to capture the passion (certainly) and the disillusionment (perhaps) of the porteños.

Celebrating Alive

Last night was awesome. So was today. By which I mean yesterday. And by last night I mean two nights ago. The computer page magically disappeared while I was in the middle of writing and I got fed up. So now I'm finishing my post today.

So I thought people went out late in parts of Europe. And maybe they go out this late there too, but last night we went out to a club in the nice (read: snootier) club district. This girl from New York has a cousin or someone who works in this club district so we had some of our names on a list and were able to get in for 20 pesos instead of 50 (20 pesos = about $7/7.50). But of course ladies in free.

So anywho, we leave our place at 3. And we dance, the others drink, and it was so much fun. There were older people there and started getting more packed around 4. It was just interesting to see how excited and energetic everyone was. The old men and women dancing up a storm together and making out on the dance floor and the younger people were of course doing the same. I loved it. And my new friends from Switzerland, Germany, England, and Holland were having a great time too. A few of us went home at 5 cuz we were getting tired and a couple of us had just gotten into town (e.g. me), and the others stayed out for another half hour or so.

And then I went home to my quaint little room. Where I could hear the club next door pounding music till 6. And then heard some girls getting in at 7 and this morning I talked to this guy Per from Denmark who said he went to a house party and then didn´t get home till 9. In Canada the bars and clubs close at... 2.

So today, by which I mean Sunday, we went to see River Plate vs. Boca Juniors, which is a ¨superclasico¨ match! Boca is the more working-class team, and doing better this year, and River is the more upper-class team, but they´re at the bottom this season. We cheered for Boca and they won 1-0, which was SWEEET cuz everyone in the bar we were at in the San Telmo barrio (neighbourhood) was cheering for Boca. When the game ended this guy in front of us picked up his son, shouted "Boca!" and kissed him on the forehead. Cuuute. And the bartender gave us a free pitcher of brew cuz he loved us so much. And this guy Pablo did an article on us, as foreigners who follow River vs. Boca. It mentioned, and I quote, "Two Germans, two Dutch girls and a Canadian." ...So I'm famous in this country now...

After the game and another hour or so of drinking and eating tapas, we went out into the street, there was a market going on, and went to watch some tango. This guy Tom (British) and girl Leona (Dutch; there are a LOT of Dutch folk) started doing some drunken tango and were eventually politely asked to leave. So then we went down this other "calle" (street) where there was a big dancing party in the street. I dunno why. They weren't waving the colours of Boca, so for all I know they were just moving down the street shakin' their hips for the sake of it. But everyone of all ages were into it - there was a father this his one-year-old, some young kids, a lot who were "young adults" like me, middle-aged folk, and oldies too. A nice panorama of excited, vibrant people.

I think people in Argentina are so much more passionate about simple things in life. In the club, the emphasis, at least the vibe I got, was on dancing and partying with friends, not drinking and picking up. In the bar, people did not have to pay to watch the game. In the street, people did not have to pay to dance to tango music or the drums in the street. They don't need money to express their passion for life! Which is good because people don't really have much to begin with. 50 pesos might not be much for me for dinner, but it's a big sum for "los argentinos". I think it's something that's so cool. I wish people would break into dance down Old Carriage Road.

Well... maybe when I get back. A la proxima!

P.S. Last night (Sunday night) I was gonna go to bed early, and then my German friend Andreas convinced me to come out to a karaoke bar with him and Paul, an English guy. We met these girls Sadaf (Iranian from Sweden) and Hadal (from Tel Aviv). Turned out it was a flamboyant gay bar; it was a lot of fun. And Andreas and I had been so stoked on doing karaoke so we sang My Way by Frank Sinatra. Muy bien! I think some guys were winking at us and blowing us kisses... that's what the hostess/host was saying. See what I'm saying? Passionate!

Landed

So my parents said goodbye to me at the airport just before I went through customs... and then all of a sudden I felt like I was gonna puke. Crazy. It just came on so suddenly: what if my luggage gets lost, what if I get robbed the moment I arrive in Argentina, what if I don´t like it, what if I can´t handle it. All the paranoias that people had put into me started coming up. Should I trust the person exchanging my money for Argentine pesos? Why does she keep saying ¨One for me, one for you¨ when she counts out my money?

So on the flight I was a bit scared. But more calm. And I slept when I could. Supper was served at 1 in the morning... followed by two more meals on that flight, plus another meal on my connecting flight. Or maybe that´s one more meal than I had. I dunno it´s hard to say. Yeccch. Gross food.

The moment I started to calm down was this morning when the plane was starting to land in Santiago de Chile. It was a clear sky and beside me were the incredible Andes mountains. They had no snow or trees on them, just some shrubs, it looked like I could just run straight up them. So beautiful and so calming... then I quickly got on my transfer flight to Buenos Aires.

Outside of the Buenos Aires Airport, where 30 or so left-wing Peronists officially (and many more unofficially) were killed by right-wing Peronists upon the return of Juan Peron (Evita´s hubby) from his 12-year exile, it smelt of pina coladas. Fresh pina coladas. Mmmm, nice. I wanted to talk about the city with my driver but I´m pretty sure he didn´t speak English. So I said what little I knew and he drove me to my residence where the landlady, Gladys, was doing the opposite of waiting for me.

My driver called the number on my contact sheet and I spoke to a woman from the school who said she´d contact Gladys and the moment I stumbled this out of my mouth to my driver, he said ¨Bueno¨ and left, giving me an encouraging honk as he drove by, with me standing in front of the gates. Luckily, two girls from the school were just coming back from shopping a couple minutes later and let me in. And fairly soon after Gladys arrived, apologized that she thought I was coming in tomorrow, as most students do, and showed me around. She´s very nice and speaks a helpful slow Spanish (but almost no English).

After talking to some of the people here, I kinda felt like a sissy. I mean, I feel pretty adventurous for coming out here, but some of the people are staying way longer and doing so much more. Granted, they´ve been here a while, so they´re accustomed to it. The two girls who let me in are from Paris and southern Holland, there´s a girl from Norway, a girl from Tel Aviv, a girl from Ontario, California who now lives in Orange County (but does not watch The OC), a girl from Norway, one other girl who I forget where she´s from, and a guy from Sao Paulo, Brazil who has been here for six months and has an Argentine boyfriend here. Who made me some killer maté. I´m looking forward to drinking that drink. All the time. And hopefully I´ll be able to squeak along without drinking alcohol. And by ¨squeak along¨ I mean be able to hang out with people and meet new other people. I don´t think it´ll be a problem. Maybe I can pass it off as a Canadian thing...

So anywho, that about does it for now. I´ll have more posts when I actually do things in the city. I think I´m going to get some Chinese take-out with a bunch of people tonight. It´s this girl Fleur´s last night here (she´s the one from Holland) before she goes off to Guatemala for six weeks. Everyone´s speaking English here so I´m able to communicate with people fine, except for Pedro (from Sao Paulo)´s boyfriend who only speaks Spanish, but Pedro was acting as interpreter for any words I didn´t understand or can´t convey. So yeah... here I am.

Should be fun. :)

Travel Weblog

Hey whoever cares,

This will be my travel interblog for while I am in South America. And I called it "Dan Outside Home" because I just might use it for other travels I might embark upon! But who knows. I don't. Do you?

Sincerestly,

Dan