shakira, carnaval y san patricio

SHAKIRA. Oh. My. God. Thinking of that night still brings me chills. It is definitely safe to say that my life has changed for the better. I was never a huge fan, but thought it would be fun to see her live in Buenos Aires. I arrived at the festival with a few friends around four in the afternoon. Thanks to Cassie’s inconspicuous maneuvers, we were able to sneak in a whole picnic of fruit, sandwiches, a liter of Coke and a bottle of Fernet—an Argentine spirit that at first taste resembles battery acid but it really does grow on you. We set up camp and enjoyed the sunshine while some of the smaller acts played. Ziggy came on before Shakira, and as the daughter of an exceptionally devoted Bob Marley fan (what would be the male version of a groupie?), it was pretty awesome to see him play. You can totally hear his father’s influence in his voice, and he even played a few Bob songs towards the end. Throughout his performance, more and more people started to shuffle in, but it wasn’t until the end of the festival when I realized exactly HOW many people were there. Shakira really is a GOD in Latin America. Although she is actually Colombian, she really does consider this entire region to be her home turf. The first thing she said upon arriving on stage was “no hay lugar como estar en casa” (there is no place like being home). The crowd went NUTS over every song she played (especially “Loca” and “Loba”…two of my personal favorites). She even played a 90s throwback: “Underneath Your Clothes.” English-speakers were the evident minority, but we rightfully went nuts when she sang this song.

The festival ended around midnight, and it was then that I realized that there were tens of thousands of people at this concert. (Final headcount: 45,000. Thanks Cass!) Por eso, finding a cab was near impossible. We had anticipated this, so instead of hopelessly trying to hail a

cab right away, we stopped at one of the many pancho stands along the boardwalk in Puerto Madero for some late-night nomz. You know I can’t get myself away from those panchos. It took us a solid hour to find a cab that wouldn’t charge us $100 AR to take us back to Belgrano, but our tummies were happy, and that’s all that mattered (even though we didn’t get home until close to 3AM).

URUGUAY. If someone had told me a few years ago that my junior year spring break would be spent in Uruguay, I would have laughed in their face. Until I decided to study abroad in Argentina, I knew NOTHING about Uruguay and never would have imagined that there were such serene beaches in that country. Amanda, Abbie, Paloma and I set off on our journey late on Sunday night. Our transportation to La Paloma consisted of a ferry from BA to Colonia, then a bus from Colonia to La Paloma. I was imagining the Buquebus (the ferry) to be a dinky little ferry like the ones that go from the Cape to Nantucket. Wrong. This ferry had a delicious food kiosco, fully stocked duty free store, bar on deck and a glass elevator. This Buquebus almost resembled the Titanic.

We arrived in Uruguay towards the tail end of Carnaval, and let me just say GOOD LORD. I always thought that Carnaval was all street parties, costumes, and good times. No one told me that you literally need weapons of defense in order to survive Carnaval in one piece. I wish I were kidding. We began our aventuras uruguashas (note the accent!) in La Paloma, a small beach town in Eastern Uruguay. The population of La Paloma is less than 4,000, which had led me to believe that the locura of Carnaval wouldn’t be as intense here. Yeah, well FALSE. Regardless of the time of day, it was actually impossible to walk the streets—be it the main street through downtown La Paloma or one of the small side streets—without getting foamed, hit by a water balloon, or some other weapon of minimal destruction. It was funny at first, but after that first time I was ready to take out the suckers with a full-blasted water gun.

Other than the Carnaval mayhem, La Paloma was incredible! (Said mayhem actually made my time in La Paloma more interesting! Quite the experience…) I absolutely LOVED the hostel we stayed at and would return there in a heartbeat. They had the most delicious dulce de leche (locally made, I believe) and the staff recommended the greatest local asado restaurant. Hands down best choripan I have had yet.

After three days in La Paloma we headed west to Punta del Este. But of course it wouldn’t be a South American backpacking adventure without a smoking bus breaking down in the middle of nowhere! (Soaking up the Uruguayan atardecer definitely made up for this minor transportation mishap.) I was pleasantly surprised by the efficient communication between the bus drivers. They only had us waiting (albeit on the side of the ruta…) for a half-hour before the new bus came and got us. They told us on the bus that those of us going to Punta del Este (having to transfer buses in San Carlos) would not be able to be dropped off IN San Carlos, rather on the side of the ruta. GREAAAT—I thought—ANOTHER HOUR ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. Wrong. Right when we pulled up to the side-ruta drop-off location, our bus taking us to Punta del Este pulled up and we got on our way. It seemed a little too easy, because how could South American transportation POSSIBLY be so (relatively) efficient?

After meeting up with Allegra, Sheehan and Paula our first day in Punta del Este, we decided to make some sangria and rent a boat for the afternoon. This ended up being such an amazing day. We first went to Isla de Lobos, the habitat of SO many sea lions. Seeing this was incredible, but then our boat driver told us that we could get out and swim with them! They came so close to us; it was unreal.

We then went to Isla de Gorriti, which is an island off the coast of Punta del Este where people will take their boats and jet skis to relax on the uninhabited island (only infrastructure on the island: a beach bar). When we arrived on the island—around 4:30PM—everyone, including us, was in verrrrry good spirits. We made many friends there, including some Argentines who let us take out their jet skis!

The rest of our week in Punta consisted of lots of beach time (checking out Los Dedos!) and taking advantage of the bustling nightlife, re parecido to the nightlife in BA (but obviously on a much smaller scale). We managed to find a very cheap seafood restaurant (with paella AND sushi…WIN.), which was convenient when the week came to an end and our funds did as well.



CLASE. I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. It actually feels like a lifetime ago that I was doing homework, studying for exams, and taking notes in class. I’m taking four classes: Historia de movimientos políticos y sociales (with ARGENTINES! Eek!), Historia económica en Latinoamérica, Sistemas políticos: los populismos en Latinoamérica, and Taller de escritura. Some classes are easier to understand than others, it really depends on el profe. None of my books are in yet (and won’t be in until Wednesday), so I conveniently haven’t had to do any homework yet. I’m hoping this study abroad experience will be more abroad and less study…but we will see how these classes go. OH…and I don’t have Friday classes. Helloooooooooo three-day weekends. This is really how life should be.

Over 10,000 kilometers from Ireland and you can still find wild St. Patty’s Day celebrations. I know I did, and was not expecting to at ALL! Obviously a ploy to gather all the Americans in the Buenos Aires area, get them drinking a little, and let the rest of the night unfold as it inevitably would. I’m not complaining—I had a GREAT time (peep me with a midget dressed up as a not-so PC Spanish leprechaun).


I then spent the entirety of the day following St. Patty’s in the Migraciones office, waiting to get my permanent visa. The incompetence of the empleados and inefficiency of the process astounded me, but I was too “weak” to notice all that much. But I am officially a resident of Argentina…hooray!

Amanda, Paloma and I went to the Recoleta market today, where I bought a pair of re cómodas leather sandals for $50 AR. We spent the day browsing the market, relaxing in the park, and walking through El Cementerio de la Recoleta, where iconic Argentines are buried (such as Evita Perón). We made a b-line straight to Evita, and hogged her grave for a little bit. Oops. Tomorrow is Cassie’s birthday, so tonight we’re going out to celebrate at a club called Rumi. Should be fun!

What’s on the horizon:
-El Día del Campo: Mañana. Not really sure what this día will consist of, but I’m guessing gauchos, maté, asado, and empanadas. An unbeatable combination.
-Córdoba: next weekend. Next Thursday and Friday are feriados nacionales, so on Wednesday night we leave for our long weekend at an estancia in Córdoba. Hiking, horseback riding, asado, maté and a fresh, outdoorsy weekend away from the not-so buenos aires of Buenos Aires. My lungs will be ever so grateful.
-Santiago, Chile: April 1-4. LOLLAPALOOZA…need I say more?!

Chau,
audgentina.