Browsing Date

2009

Destinations, South America

Short Stories

April 19, 2009 • By

The Last Supper

As it was the Thursday before Easter and historically known for the day Jesus celebrated his Last Supper, Maria and I ventured to an Argentinean steakhouse. Maria was definitely a bit more adventurous than me. She went right ahead and ordered the blood sausage (I nervously tasted this unique delicacy). I decided to go the safe route and order the stuffed chicken. It wasn’t as if I was being entirely boring I still had no idea what was inside the specialty of the house. Regardless, we both stuffed ourselves silly and despite the waiters funny looks we continued to order more sides and an ample helping of dessert. It was an appropriate ending to a great week. Maria left for New York on Good Friday, which is a deeply religious day in Argentina. She arrived home safe and sound in time for Easter.

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Easter Sunday

To make my parents happy and to give Argentinean Catholicism a try, I found a Catholic Church for Easter Sunday. Finding said church proved to be more difficult than one would think with a country full of Catholics. It didn’t matter that prior to this pursuit I had walked passed no less than 20 churches. I tried googling Catholic Church and Buenos Aires and it produced a number of churches but I couldn’t locate anything in my neighborhood. I decided to ask around and see where it got me. After three hours of walking aimlessly and begging every cheese and meat owner to point me in the right direction, I settled on San Loretta.

Hearing my dad’s voice in the back of my head, I awoke early to ensure I had a proper seat for my Argentinean Easter mass. I arrived first and had plenty of seats with my name on them. A woman who seemed to be selling rosaries and holy books started speaking to me in Spanish. I got the impression she wanted me to buy something but I pretended not to understand her. I knew I was in trouble when she started picking up books and telling me the prices. Feeling obligated and it was Easter, I purchased a “holy” bracelet for 14 pesos or $5. She must have taken a liking to me (after she got my money) because the next thing I know she dragged me through the church to a basilica that I had not even noticed. I found myself praying to the Pope, bowing to some statue, which I guessed to be St. Loretta and then sitting in a pew staring up at the ceiling observing the women around me deep in prayer. Finally, the woman left and I took my seat in the main church. It was a few minutes before the mass was scheduled to begin and it was relatively empty. I noticed many people in wheel chairs; others walking with canes and then it occurred to me Argentineans don’t start moving until 10 AM. I had found the neighborhood senior mass. The priest must have been hilarious as the congregation laughed every few minutes during his opening remarks. I didn’t have a clue as to what he was saying. After Communion, I retreated to my seat only to see hundreds of people my age with families waiting to storm into the church. It’s all about figuring out the right timing here in Buenos Aires. I felt cleansed of my sins and thankful I only took $20 pesos to church. I gave $14 to the bracelet lady and $6 to the offertory.

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Closed Door Restaurants

There are several places popping up in Buenos Aires known as closed-door restaurants where people open their home to strangers and prepare these amazing meals. It seems to be a great way to bring strangers together and for those hosting us to make some dinero. I went with my friend Tim and his friend Katherine to a Vietnamese closed-door dinner. The “owners” are American and have made a new life for themselves in Buenos Aires. They are entrepreneurs in the truest sense. Thuy cooks and teaches yoga and Pilates and Ben, her fiancé, manages the operations and serves as the marketing guru. They are a lovely couple and gracious hosts. Thuy prepared several vegetarian courses for us this particular evening and the food was fresh and delightful. They greeted us with glasses of wine and water, a perfect combination in my mind. It was a diverse group but all of us spoke English. Karen from Australia and I chatted consuming most of the white wine while I tried desperately to figure out the woman sitting diagonal from me. She wasn’t rude but she had an edge to her I disliked. It was an interesting evening to say the least. I left definitely full and slightly tipsy.

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On the Road Again

I don’t like ants. In fact, I don’t like any bugs. It is true that I spent most of my time in Africa either sleeping with the bugs or figuring out ways to escape them so I was adamant about not living with bugs here. I did enjoy my fancy loft apartment but after driving myself mildly crazy spraying every crevice each night, I decided to move. Plus, Maria left so I didn’t need as much room. Kudos to Tim who suggested I “try out” the apartment before committing to three months. Also, thanks to Tim who bailed me out of my old apartment and moved into a new apartment so I could stay in his place. I’m finally settled–AGAIN. No more moving– I insist upon it. I even bought a nice pillow—made in the USA—a bath mat and some pretty towels. Now if I could just find a mattress pad and figure out how to keep the dust from accumulating, I would be perfect. I have a one-bedroom apartment with a queen bed. I’m a big girl now. There is a beautiful terrace with plants that will likely die under my watch. It’s centrally located in Palermo and I even joined a gym. I love it. The super chats me up daily and is helping me learn my Spanish. I even met a new neighbor. She is about 70-years-old but she knows I am here to learn Spanish and wants to help me. After listening to me speak to the super for a few minutes, she brought me her name and number and offered to help whenever I needed it. I am touched by her kindness.

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Clase de Espanol

I am having an outstanding time learning Spanish. My class started last week and I attend Monday – Friday from 9 am to 1 pm. There are 3 other students in my class: Ana, a sweetheart 19-year-old girl from Germany, Ivan, a 24-year-old hottie from Holland, and William, a 31-year-old independent really Republican fellow wanderer from the US. We make an interesting group. William and I trail in the learning department as English is our only language. Ana and Ivan speak at least four other languages and make up words that sound right even if they aren’t Spanish. Ana is the proper student while William is a disaster and never comes prepared for class. The school organizes nightly activities for everyone and it’s an interesting cross section of people. It ranges from retirees to teenagers. I have met a few people from the States but there are definitely more Europeans. I attended the tortas y alfajores class on Thursday night. Let’s just say William and Ana made the dough and I ate it. I had not tasted dough in years and one taste was not enough. When the cookies finally arrived, I could barely look at them. Don’t worry I wasn’t about to waste the fruits of “their” labor and I loaded on the dulce de leche. Alfajores are basically two sugar cookies with dulce de leche in the middle. They accompany every cup of coffee and after awhile the sugary treat seems like bread and butter. Friday, we had our first test and I scored a 96.5/100. I was pretty excited as the test consisted of 4 parts vocabulary, fill in the blank, speaking and listening. As my weakness is listening—in English and Spanish, I was worried but never fear I passed and I graduated to the next level.

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Immersion, Wine and More Nights out on the Town

I’m semi-obsessed with learning Spanish. I am very competitive and want to be fluent if it kills me. As a result, I am throwing myself into situations where I must speak or listen to Spanish whenever possible. I’m already taking Pilates, which produces laughs every time I go. I joined a gym and now I’m attending conversational meetings. My tutor arranged for me to have a speaking partner and I even attended a wine tasting with locals. I have to admit when I met a Canadian at the event I was a bit bothered that he spoke English but after a barrage of questions from locals I needed him to translate. I mean I realized something quickly you can either sink or swim but sometimes it’s nice to have the life preserver available. That especially holds true when the questions turned to why I wasn’t married at 35. I guess it’s not just weird in Africa. Furthermore, I nearly jumped down the Sommelier’s throat after I described my former job in Spanish and he said OHHH you are a secretary. I wasn’t about to let him think that so in my broken Spanish I told him I had a big job that I was very important and that now I’m living here to learn Spanish. After some prodding, the Canadian helped me get that point across as tuve un trabajo mas grande and muy importante didn’t seem to be doing it.

Argentineans do certainly enjoy their wine. My problem with Buenos Aires is that people don’t start drinking the fruity delight until 10 pm. Now that I am a student, it’s a bit difficult to be out until 2 am and wake up at 7:30 am for class. It’s not like I am a spring chicken. I need my beauty sleep but I’m sucking it up. Karen (my Aussie friend from the closed door dinner) and I ventured out on Wednesday. We may just may have arrived a bit early as it was 7:30 pm and the restaurant had not even opened. After we sampled a few tragos at nearby watering hole, we tried eating again this time it was 10:30 pm and the restaurant was packed. It’s insane to me that a restaurant gets started that late. I guess that explains why my gym doesn’t open until 10 am on Sunday. On Friday, Karen and I decided to meet up again this time much later. When the clock turned 11:00 pm, people had just started eating. We tried a Peruvian restaurant and after some back and forth ended up at a local bar where two locals tried like heck to make their night complete by scoring some foreigners. It didn’t take long for us to shoo them away. The bartenders were adorable so flirting with them proved to be more fun.

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It Takes Two to Tango

I’ve saved the best for last. One thing I wanted to try and possibly master (no way) is the tango. Karen had found a place that provides free lessons so off I went. It was a beautiful venue with well-known performers. After a few minutes of instructions in Spanish, our lessons began only I did not have a partner. The two teachers one male and one female asked me to wait a bit and they would find me someone. Eventually the male instructor made his way to me and we started the basic steps. Please note: I was not appropriately dressed I had no idea people took the tango so serious. All the other women were wearing 4-5 inch heels (um I would die) and had their hair tied back like they were ready for their stage debut. I tried warning my instructor I had two left feet. Unfortunately, that phrase does not exist in Spanish and with much effort he finally worked out I was uncoordinated. I think his comprehension became even clearer when I couldn’t master the first few steps. He took my hands held them to his heart and said walk with me. Thankfully, he spoke some English. I must have been awful because he said you need to go over there and practice walking. For the next hour, I walked up and down the dance floor saying one, two, three together, four, five six back. The instructor came back to me one other time and said he didn’t have a partner for me. I translated that to mean you are so bad that no one else will be able to handle you. Don’t worry I convinced William in my class that I need a partner and he is it. I am not sure I offered him an out. He signed up for lessons this week so I’ll be much better prepared next time.

Destinations, South America

The Spartans, Iguazu Falls and a Parasite?

April 10, 2009 • By

Congratulations to MSU!!!!

The Spartans had an amazing season making it all the way to the championship game. I knew my team was in trouble when the announcers were frantically shouting, “falta falta” every two seconds and the game had just started. Watching the game in Spanish proved to be less painful when the final outcome produced a UNC victory. As with all the teams I support, I echo a common theme…there’s always next year. Go Cubbies!!!!

My friend Maria and I explored the historic parts of Buenos Aires and took in a tango show. There are many diverse neighborhoods in Buenos Aires. Puerto Madero, a port area filled with upscale restaurants and shops, sits on the river. It’s a bustling area with tourists and locals. The buildings are a deep red brick and many wealthy locals live in the condos above the commercialized zones. My favorite a neighborhood called La Boca is home to the tango. It’s known as an immigrant area and the neighborhood is much poorer than the rest of the city. There are numerous artists lining the streets and many of the homes are colored like crayola crayons in red, yellow and green. Maria and I walked through the shops and checked out the artwork, jewelry and of course the impromptu tango dancers. Somehow I just can’t imagine being successful at the tango.

Later, we tasted our way through an authentic Argentinean meal complete with a tango performance that had us realizing quickly we could dress the part but not actually play the part. The tango dancers stepped, twisted, and turned more or less like pretzels. I’m still trying to figure out how their long, lean legs go in and out of poses without being permanently tangled. I was inspired. Don’t worry Maria has it all on film.

Since Maria is visiting, I decided being a tourist was in tall order so off we went to Uruguay. An hour ferry ride from Buenos Aires, it’s the perfect day-tripper. We arrived in Colonia, Uruguay in the morning and got right to work shopping and sightseeing. Colonia is an adorable historic town covered with cobble-stoned streets, a lighthouse, Catholic Church and cute little restaurants and shops. The town is located on a peninsula where a very brown and muddy river, the widest in the world, surrounds its shores. Over the years, Colonia has been occupied by the Spanish and Portuguese accounting for the interesting mix of architecture. Today, there are approximately 25,000 locals living and working in Colonia. As tourists do, Maria and I walked the historic streets making a very special wish on matrimony road. (Come on cut me some slack the 7 loops I made in Egypt have yet to produce Mr. Right). Before we returned to Argentina, we took in an amazing sunset sipping Uruguayan wine. It was the perfect end to our adventure.

The last few days we spent touring Iguazu Falls–land of rivers, jungle(mosquitoes) and the butterfly. Similar to Victoria Falls in Zambia, the falls are a wonder of the world. The name Iguazu comes from the natives meaning big water. Discovered first in 1541 by the Spanish, the falls are located between Argentina and Brazil but are actually created by two rivers running through three countries Argentina, Brazil and Uruguay. The intersection occurs about 10 miles upstream.

There are three peaks or sources if you will that make up Iguazu. To find the falls is not easy as they are buried deep in the jungle. I’m sure many an explorer regretted his voyage downstream. With our guide Wilson, Maria and I walked through the jungle, traveled on a “green” train for 10 minutes then trekked on a metal bridge with the river below us for another 30 minutes. The region hasn’t seen much rain lately so the river’s levels are low but I wouldn’t want to see it during the rainy season. The river is mighty powerful.

Eventually, our walking paid off and we began to hear the thunderous roars of the falls. It’s a magnificent show. Here we watched two forks of the river pouring down a gorge. The sun was shinning and made for a beautiful backdrop. The gushing water made me dizzy. The pounding water came down with such force and rhythm, it was hypnotizing. Maria and I fought our way through the crowds for our glamour shots and then moved on to the next part of the falls.

The two other sections of the falls we visited are no less beautiful just a bit more spread out. The Chico Falls consists of seven lines of waterfalls along the U of the mountain. Within a short walk of these falls, there is a cascading waterfall, which sort of trips on various ledges before emptying out at the bottom of a pool. Combining all the falls, Iguazu resembles a Y. The top part of the Y representing the falls and the bottom the downstream river.

To top off our Iguazu experience, we boarded the Grand Adventurer, a combination of a raft and a speed boat. It was a great time blasting us through the currents and deluging us with water. The power of the falls hitting my head briefly was enough to satisfy my thirst for going over them in a barrel. Seeing fat, unshapely men unnecessarily dressed in speedos cured my desire to marry a European(at least anytime soon). Lots of positives came out of this experience. I think Maria would add she is thankful people in the US enjoy deodorant.

We managed to dry out pool side at our hotel where one should never underestimated the power of the sun even in winter. It’s hot here! Our ambitions high, we trekked to the source of the falls for sunset. It’s fun to say two rivers, three countries. Unfortunately, we caught the tail end of sunset. I guess it had something to do with the full moon.

I’m not sure if I’m sick or have a parasite but my tummy is not being kind. I’m beginning to think people in South Africa have stomachs of steal. How can I conquer Africa without any issues and now feel like there is a devil beating to get out of my abdomen? Thank you to Jack who became the nurse of the hour calling my health insurance and finding an Argentinean hospital.