Esperanza, lluvia, estrella, sonrisa, caramelo. Sarah, you’re right: some things are just better in Spanish. Spanish has a wonderful way of making the most explicit of words incredibly sentimental and romantic, one of the shortcomings of the English language. I’ve been able to pick up on an amazing amount of language, mannerisms, and taboos while living here, including that coger does NOT mean to take, but I have loved learning about all of the linguistic emotions. By now, I am speaking solamente en castellano, and oftentimes I will just sit back and listen to my friends talk, relishing the passion and sentiment that is so easily expressed through everyday words and phrases. That is how I would describe Argentina: romantic, emotional, and passionate. The most stereotypical of all Argentine cultural elements, the Tango, captures Argentina’s fondness of romance and passion. Overhyped, a little outdated, and uncomfortably romantic (it’s a little strange to be that close to someone I’m not romantically involved with), it is one of the many touchy-feely cultural divergences that we don’t find in the US. Personal space doesn’t really exist among Argentines; meeting someone for the first time and embracing them a kiss on the cheek is perfectly normal. In fact, it is considered rude not to do so.
Speaking of la lengua,
I have been having exceptional difficulty nailing the Spanish “rr.” I’ve
never been able to roll my tongue, but on Sunday, Meli, Lidi, and Lale made it
their mission to teach me how. God bless their patience, this was much
more grueling than my “speech therapy” with Anj. Using ejercicios para pronunciar la RR as the teaching platform, we spent the entire afternoon repeating/screaming words such as forro and borracho over and over again. (I hope the neighbors don't have any young kids…) It became more trial-and-error than anything else, but with lots of práctica I will hopefully have it down by January. Forrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrro.
I came across this article the other day, 20 awesomely untranslatable words from around the world, and it got me thinking about how—for lack of a better word—awesome the art of the language is, considering there are over 6 billion people speaking nearly 7,000 different languages. Did you know that there are more Spanish-speakers in the world than English speakers? Yet for some reason, I find that most Argentine’s knowledge of English is far more proficient than most American’s knowledge of any second language, let alone Spanish. A little embarrassing, no? Unfortunately, I know very few people who are proficient in a second language, and even fewer who are considered to be fluent. This may have to do with the fact that so many aspects of American culture are
incorporated into Argentine society.
At times, I forget exactly how far away I am from home, as I pass a
Starbucks or McDonald’s on my walk home, or turn on the television and flip to Friends or Grey’s Anatomy in English, with subtitles. But still, I do not find this to serve as much of an excuse, as we are just as capable of fluently speaking a second language as any European or Latin American (unless there is something in the water preventing us from doing so, which I doubt is the case).
Tomorrow morning I leave for my ten-day adventure in Bolivia. I will try to periodically while I’m there, but cannot make any promises...
¡Hasta el 26 de septiembre!
Chau,
audgentina.
Showing posts with label noticias. Show all posts
Showing posts with label noticias. Show all posts
September 14, 2011
June 27, 2011
todas las cosas que merecen lágrimas
I took quite the ride on an emotional rollercoaster this week. Lots and lots of highs, but also many lows, as this week was filled with tearful despedidas.
I have found that some of my best of nights out have usually started with a unexpected torrential downpour. (Kanye '08?!) This was definitely the case on Wednesday night. Rana, Cassie, Devon, Quynh-Le, Leo, and I went to see Onda Vaga, one of the many awesome Argentine indie rock bands that I LOVE. Y sentir el frenesí de la canción, salir con mis amigos delante del río con un cielo aparte o en un cajón. De cualquier forma que me dé satisfacción y comprensión, y nunca culpa de haberle faltado el respeto a nadie. The concert included lots of dancing, jumping, singing, yearning over the beautiful musicians, and plenty of Quilmes-induced hugs and affection. The concert ended at 11PM…leaving us feeling very confused as to what to do next, since our nights seldom start before midnight. By fortune we were able to hail a cab to take us to Quiroz, where we munched on some REAL fries (one of BA’s rarities), sipped on some Malbec and sangría, and savored one of our last nights together.
Thursday marked the end of my first semester classes…finally! I have one last final in the beginning of July, but until then I’m freeeeeeeeeee! Paloma and I commemorated this achievement by treating ourselves to Tatú. Those delicious empanadas never get old. That night I had a real night out on the town with my API loves, renting a bombbb party bus (basically a boat on wheels with super tacky flashing lights…so epic.), raging around the Obelisco and up and down Avenida 9 de Julio for an hour or so, then ended up at Asia de Cuba, a boliche in Puerto Madero right on the river. (You can see the Puente de la Mujer from the patio!) We danced ‘til the sun came up…muy buena onda toda la noche. (The best part of the night quite possibly could have been me falling asleep on the colectivo home…at 7AM…waking up AT my stop! Qué suerte, ¿no?)
Odio las despedidas. They began on Friday and only got harder as the day went on. (The resaca that I had from the night before didn’t help matters either!) We met for the ISA despedida at Deli-Wok, a tenedor libre including chorizo, sushi, a complete parrilla, and over ten different tortas. I wound up stuffing my face with chorizo (making mini-choripan!) that I didn’t even make it to the postre table…typical. After a few chau’s, hasta luego’s, and nos vemos re pronto’s, I found myself roaming Cabildo, making my way home for a much needed resaca siesta. A few Melona bars and a three-hour siesta later, I had rallied and Paloma and I were off to Fuerzabruta.
If you ever get the chance to see Fuerzabruta, DO IT. Re imprecionante. Fuerzabruta is an Argentine theatrical company, similar Cirque Du Soleil, aesthetically innovated through flying acrobats, flashing lights, and experimental props. A serious mind orgasm. You can really see Argentina’s Carnaval influence in the choreography and execution of the show. The aerial (a 6-foot high moving treadmill and 20-foot flying curtain), aquatic (two clear-bottom, mobile, tilting pools suspended from the ceiling), and acrobatic (the thirteen cast members fly, run, and dive down into the audience to bring guests up on top of the flying curtain) components of the show make it the most unique show I have ever seen. At some points the pool dipped low enough for the audience to touch it, at others they were rained on and pelted with foam blocks and shredded cardboard. This is the touring Carnaval. We unfortunately weren’t able to be in the campo (where the real party is!), but we still were moved by the dynamic energy of Fuerzabruta. Here’s a video I caught of the end of the show, just to get a little idea of the incredible insanity that we were part of:
After the show we headed to Sugar to obsess over the unbelievable spectacle that was Fuerzabruta. We ran into Fer and some of his friends, who we lucky to give their despedidas to Paloma before she left. Our last night ever obviously ended with choripan…what better way to conclude our last night in BA together, right?
My heart was as gloomy as the cielo on Saturday: dreary grey overcast, bitter cold, and departing friends. I woke up with a pit in my stomach, knowing the tristeza that was to come. Naturally as soon as I woke up I went straight to the United Airlines website to see if the cenizas would work in my favor and close down Ezeiza as they had done on Friday. Unfortunately, I did not have such luck. Paloma and I met at Tatú for one final almuerzo of the empanadas that we love so much. We then made our way to Plaza Belgrano, for some of her last-minute maté purchases…crucial. Before we knew it, it was time to meet at UB to say our last despedidas to many of our ISA friends. I held myself together pretty well until I went to comfort Paula and Erika, whose teary eyes got my waterworks going as I anticipated the dreaded despedida. Paloma and I had to get out of there before the bus pulled away, and as we walked down Zabala away from UB we lost it. We walked back to her apartment, arm in arm, tearfully reminiscing the awesome times we have had together these past five months and realizing how much we were going to miss each other. Arriving at the corner of Libertador and Sucre, I came close to throwing myself in front of one of the speeding cars. We sat on her stoop, holding each other, sobbing, not wanting to leave. Definitely one of the hardest despedidas of my life.
And to my sweet Paloma, mi media naranja: words cannot express how much I miss you already. My phone rings a lot less and I still haven’t been able to bring myself to Tatú without you. Walking by our meeting spot on José Hernández makes my heart ache. I never would have been able to fall in love with BA as much as I have if you hadn’t been by my side, going on all these adventures with me. I will miss asustando creepy porteños into thinking we’re novias; bailando toda la noche con vos; getting choripan at 6AM; taking the colectivo in a rather “happy” state of mind and having the whole bus laugh at us; our almost-daily Malbec dates; and going one day without seeing you and freaking out because it feels like it has been forever. Sos mi hermana de alma y nadie podría reemplazarte. Big Mama ya te extraño, but I know we will meet again. Our next adventure: Brasil 2014…it’s happening. ¡Te quiero con todo mi corazón!
I, however, was not the only one shedding lágrimas this weekend. Yesterday River Plate played Belgrano, a fútbol team from Córdoba. Soccer game in Argentina are always full of energy, but this game was no ordinary one. River needed to win this game by two points in order to keep their standing in the A league. Mechi warned me about the anticipated ferocity of this game, and how exactly fanáticos de River would respond if they lost. I even received an email from the US Embassy, warning me that “given the stakes, this soccer game will be an emotionally charged event for a large number of fervent River fans. Depending on the outcome, the situation could get out of hand and hooligans may confront police and/or destroy property.” Woah. I live two kilometers from the River cancha, and I could still hear the shouting and cheers all the way in my apartment. I decided it would be best to get as far away from Nuñéz as possible, so Paula, Erika, and I met up at a choripan place in Recoleta to watch the game. River scored in the very beginning, but they got a little too confident and their execution went downhill from there. For the most of the game they just needed one more point to stay in the A league, and with all of the close shots on goal I thought that they would be okay. But then, in the second half, one of the defensemen messed up their plays, letting the ball sneak into the goal. The game was now tied, requiring River to score two points in the remaining twenty minutes of the game. Lágrimas streamed down the faces of all the River fans, as they knew they were soon to face cruel, history-making defeat.
Their despondency was apparent, and quite frankly prevented them from playing their best. The game ended at 17hs, tied 1-1. Fans were throwing boards onto the field, hitting both Belgrano and River players. The police had to create a human barrier around all of the players and escort them back into their pits. People were climbing down onto the field from the stands, hoping to storm the players. Police used high-powered hoses to attempt to stop the riots in the stadium. But the locura didn’t end there. As part of Argentine fútbol game regulations, the irate River fans had to wait inside the stadium until all opposing fans had left and were a solid 15 blocks or so away from the cancha…for obvious reasons. Fans were rioting in the streets for hours after the game, and many still remained inside the stadium, fearing the violence outside. Angry fans were throwing metal bars and stones, setting off bombs, and carelessly driving their cars through masses of people, leaving 25 injured. Police responded to these rioters with teargas, helicopters, and high-powered hoses, but it still took hours to end the brawl. They needed to clear over 50,000 fans from the stadium’s perimeter, which is not an easy task if you know Argentine fútbol aficionados. This is the first time in River’s 110 years as a club that they are being relegated to the B league. Uproar was definitely anticipated, however definitely not to this extent.
I have quite a bit of time until my last final, so Erika and I have decided to explore a new barrio each day. Today is El Centro, where we will get a little taste of iconic Buenos Aires.
Chau,
audgentina.
Thursday marked the end of my first semester classes…finally! I have one last final in the beginning of July, but until then I’m freeeeeeeeeee! Paloma and I commemorated this achievement by treating ourselves to Tatú. Those delicious empanadas never get old. That night I had a real night out on the town with my API loves, renting a bombbb party bus (basically a boat on wheels with super tacky flashing lights…so epic.), raging around the Obelisco and up and down Avenida 9 de Julio for an hour or so, then ended up at Asia de Cuba, a boliche in Puerto Madero right on the river. (You can see the Puente de la Mujer from the patio!) We danced ‘til the sun came up…muy buena onda toda la noche. (The best part of the night quite possibly could have been me falling asleep on the colectivo home…at 7AM…waking up AT my stop! Qué suerte, ¿no?)
Odio las despedidas. They began on Friday and only got harder as the day went on. (The resaca that I had from the night before didn’t help matters either!) We met for the ISA despedida at Deli-Wok, a tenedor libre including chorizo, sushi, a complete parrilla, and over ten different tortas. I wound up stuffing my face with chorizo (making mini-choripan!) that I didn’t even make it to the postre table…typical. After a few chau’s, hasta luego’s, and nos vemos re pronto’s, I found myself roaming Cabildo, making my way home for a much needed resaca siesta. A few Melona bars and a three-hour siesta later, I had rallied and Paloma and I were off to Fuerzabruta.
If you ever get the chance to see Fuerzabruta, DO IT. Re imprecionante. Fuerzabruta is an Argentine theatrical company, similar Cirque Du Soleil, aesthetically innovated through flying acrobats, flashing lights, and experimental props. A serious mind orgasm. You can really see Argentina’s Carnaval influence in the choreography and execution of the show. The aerial (a 6-foot high moving treadmill and 20-foot flying curtain), aquatic (two clear-bottom, mobile, tilting pools suspended from the ceiling), and acrobatic (the thirteen cast members fly, run, and dive down into the audience to bring guests up on top of the flying curtain) components of the show make it the most unique show I have ever seen. At some points the pool dipped low enough for the audience to touch it, at others they were rained on and pelted with foam blocks and shredded cardboard. This is the touring Carnaval. We unfortunately weren’t able to be in the campo (where the real party is!), but we still were moved by the dynamic energy of Fuerzabruta. Here’s a video I caught of the end of the show, just to get a little idea of the incredible insanity that we were part of:
After the show we headed to Sugar to obsess over the unbelievable spectacle that was Fuerzabruta. We ran into Fer and some of his friends, who we lucky to give their despedidas to Paloma before she left. Our last night ever obviously ended with choripan…what better way to conclude our last night in BA together, right?
My heart was as gloomy as the cielo on Saturday: dreary grey overcast, bitter cold, and departing friends. I woke up with a pit in my stomach, knowing the tristeza that was to come. Naturally as soon as I woke up I went straight to the United Airlines website to see if the cenizas would work in my favor and close down Ezeiza as they had done on Friday. Unfortunately, I did not have such luck. Paloma and I met at Tatú for one final almuerzo of the empanadas that we love so much. We then made our way to Plaza Belgrano, for some of her last-minute maté purchases…crucial. Before we knew it, it was time to meet at UB to say our last despedidas to many of our ISA friends. I held myself together pretty well until I went to comfort Paula and Erika, whose teary eyes got my waterworks going as I anticipated the dreaded despedida. Paloma and I had to get out of there before the bus pulled away, and as we walked down Zabala away from UB we lost it. We walked back to her apartment, arm in arm, tearfully reminiscing the awesome times we have had together these past five months and realizing how much we were going to miss each other. Arriving at the corner of Libertador and Sucre, I came close to throwing myself in front of one of the speeding cars. We sat on her stoop, holding each other, sobbing, not wanting to leave. Definitely one of the hardest despedidas of my life.
 |
| In La Paloma, Uruguay...get it?! HA HA |
I, however, was not the only one shedding lágrimas this weekend. Yesterday River Plate played Belgrano, a fútbol team from Córdoba. Soccer game in Argentina are always full of energy, but this game was no ordinary one. River needed to win this game by two points in order to keep their standing in the A league. Mechi warned me about the anticipated ferocity of this game, and how exactly fanáticos de River would respond if they lost. I even received an email from the US Embassy, warning me that “given the stakes, this soccer game will be an emotionally charged event for a large number of fervent River fans. Depending on the outcome, the situation could get out of hand and hooligans may confront police and/or destroy property.” Woah. I live two kilometers from the River cancha, and I could still hear the shouting and cheers all the way in my apartment. I decided it would be best to get as far away from Nuñéz as possible, so Paula, Erika, and I met up at a choripan place in Recoleta to watch the game. River scored in the very beginning, but they got a little too confident and their execution went downhill from there. For the most of the game they just needed one more point to stay in the A league, and with all of the close shots on goal I thought that they would be okay. But then, in the second half, one of the defensemen messed up their plays, letting the ball sneak into the goal. The game was now tied, requiring River to score two points in the remaining twenty minutes of the game. Lágrimas streamed down the faces of all the River fans, as they knew they were soon to face cruel, history-making defeat.
Their despondency was apparent, and quite frankly prevented them from playing their best. The game ended at 17hs, tied 1-1. Fans were throwing boards onto the field, hitting both Belgrano and River players. The police had to create a human barrier around all of the players and escort them back into their pits. People were climbing down onto the field from the stands, hoping to storm the players. Police used high-powered hoses to attempt to stop the riots in the stadium. But the locura didn’t end there. As part of Argentine fútbol game regulations, the irate River fans had to wait inside the stadium until all opposing fans had left and were a solid 15 blocks or so away from the cancha…for obvious reasons. Fans were rioting in the streets for hours after the game, and many still remained inside the stadium, fearing the violence outside. Angry fans were throwing metal bars and stones, setting off bombs, and carelessly driving their cars through masses of people, leaving 25 injured. Police responded to these rioters with teargas, helicopters, and high-powered hoses, but it still took hours to end the brawl. They needed to clear over 50,000 fans from the stadium’s perimeter, which is not an easy task if you know Argentine fútbol aficionados. This is the first time in River’s 110 years as a club that they are being relegated to the B league. Uproar was definitely anticipated, however definitely not to this extent.
I have quite a bit of time until my last final, so Erika and I have decided to explore a new barrio each day. Today is El Centro, where we will get a little taste of iconic Buenos Aires.
Chau,
audgentina.
June 22, 2011
labios, manchados por las uvas
The over-consumption of vino…and carne (and then some more vino…) would perfectly describe our finde mendocino.
We got to Mendoza late on Thursday night, staying at Hostel Lao , apparently the number one hostel in Latin America. They provided us with comfortable beds, an all-hostel asado (with some of the best chorizo I have ever had), and actually SATISFYING desayunos…they even had FRUIT! (A true accomplishment in Argentina.) Oh, and FREE wine. Winnnnnn.
Friday morning we woke up to begin our wine bike tours in Luján, a locality outside of Mendoza. Dani, a friend that we met in the hostel, came along with us as well. She is from England but has spent the year studying in Santiago, so we were able to share many similar study abroad stories. We showed up at Baccus bike rentals and got our semi-functioning bikes, sin helmets or any other kind of precautionary measures, and soon embarked on our very long, struggling day of wine “sipping.”
We started at Cavas de Chacras, my favorite vineyard in Mendoza. There they offered us lunch where I nommed on the degustación de empanadas…amazing. Our first degustación de vino followed lunch, where our guía, Peter, left us sitting on the pond-side deck with an entire bottle of Merlot between the four of us girls. It was a beautiful fall day in Mendoza, with a cool breeze and vibrant foliage. Nothing could have made this visit more perfect. The next stop was Altavista, a larger bodega about a thirty-minute ride from Cavas de Chacras. Riding bikes, after drinking lots and lots of wine, is not the easiest task. Needless to say we showed up at the bodega a little loopy. We enjoyed our very complete degustación, which even included some Malbec Rosé, bringing me back to my freshman year days of Sutter Home White Zinfandel. (Shout out Reenz and Julz!) Ahhh, the memories.
Pulmary was our last stop, a small, family-owned, organic bodega in the center of Luján. By this point we were fairly…feliz…and came in probably not needing any more wine. But being the winos that we have become in Argentina, we came in ready to sip on some more delicious vino tinto. The owner of the bodega took us down to the cellar, where we tried some fresh port and tasted some Malbec and Merlot. Towards the end of our degustación we were left in the cellar, just us girls, with a bottle of vino. Twice in one day we were trusted with an unsupervised free bottle of wine…rookies. Luckily we did not have to ride our bikes back to the rental store; that would have been truly catastrophic. We managed to get a ride back to our hostel with one of the owners of the bodega, thus not having to worry about taking the wrong colectivo back to Mendoza. A few goofy phone conversations with guía Peter later, we were back at the hostel and attempting to get ready for dinner. We went out to Azafrán, a delicious parrilla in Mendoza. We are talking some serious carne business here, so I got bife de chorizo, enveloped in a flaky blue cheese puff pastry layer…so rare it practically came straight off the cow. I could not have been more satisfied; this was quite possibly the best steak I have had in Argentina. This was followed by dulce de leche crème brûlée…oooohhhh myyyy gooddddddd. Mendoza is a food (and wine!) haven.
On Saturday we struggled to pull ourselves out of bed at a reasonable hour for our day full of gaucho activity. (Too much vino the day before…) A few cups of maté cocido later, I had rallied and was ready for my alpargatas. Dani, Cassie, Paloma, and I took the colectivo to Maipú, where our gaucho friend Cisar met us and took us to the campo. Foliage-rich trees arching over the dirt roads, never-ending rows of Malbec uvas, and spectacular Andes in the background…it was the perfect setting to go horseback riding. Or so I thought. (I should have known what was coming next, given the fact that my caballo’s name was Tornado.)
Trotting through the vineyard, I was enjoying relaxing and soaking up the view. Dani began to gallop in front of me, and Tornado, being the alpha male that he is, decided to burst into a full-on gallop as well. Having no idea how on earth to ride/control/maintain balance on a sprinting horse, I grabbed on for dear life, pulling the reins as hard as I could. (This, however, did not stop Tornado, as he persisted on sprinting around sharp corners, heading towards God knows where.) When I lost the reins…and later the stirrups…I literally saw my life flash before my eyes. I honestly didn’t think I would EVER get off this speedy little demon. After what felt like a solid forty-five minutes of high-speed galloping, a gaucho on the side of the path came out and slowed the horse down just as I was starting to slip off the horse. Thank. God. For the rest of the day I refused to trust Tornado, and limited him to a very slow walk. (The little mischievous diablo didn’t even deserve to trot.)
Apart from this terrifying little joy ride I went on, the afternoon was great. The scenery was breathtaking, and I felt so removed from the city. I love Buenos Aires so much, but it is so nice to get away from the noise and hustle of the city. (I found out this weekend that Buenos Aires is the loudest city in Latin America, and fourth loudest in the world…not so shocking though!) When we got back to the hostel I immediately passed out (too much adrenaline for one afternoon), and woke up a few hours later to a delicious asado in the hostel. There honestly is nothing like waking up to the rich aromas of chorizo and bife de chorizo coming from downstairs. This was night two of stuffing my face with carne, accompanied by copious copas of vino; I love this Argentine life.
Sunday we slept in a little, finally recovering from the excess wine we had drank in the past two days. I woke up very much debilitated. (Turns out my little venture with Tornado took quite the toll on my body; arms, abs, back, and especially my groins were basically out of commission.) And on top of my wine-induced headache…ouch. After completely taking advantage of our free breakfast we spent a tranquila morning exploring Mendoza. We first head to the Mercado Central, a central market in the middle of Mendoza with lots of fresh meats, fruits, seafood, empanadas, parrilla, and more. Cassie eyed some paella, which we took para llevar and ate in Plaza Independencia. We spent the rest of the day perusing the artisan markets, where I found amazing earrings made from rice paper. Amazing. I seriously need to learn how to stay away from these dangerous mercados; this is where all my money is going. For dinner we went to Anna Bistro, definitely one of my favorite spots in Argentina. Walking down a stone path, there is a heated patio to the right, surrounded by fresco greenery and soft lights…so sexy and cool. The food was so amazing; Paloma and Cassie got an incredibly sauve pumpkin soup; the feuilletée de queso de cabra that I got was sin palabras.
El 20 de junio is el Día de la Bandera, so we got yet another day off school. We headed into Maipú for the day where we walked to the Trapiche bodega, one of the biggest wine companies in Argentina. I definitely like touring the small bodegas better, but it was interesting to see what one of the bigger companies looks like. They even have llamas on the grounds! Unreal. (Except while Cassie and Paloma and gawking at the cuteness of the llamas, all I could think of was the delicious llama that I munched on when I was in Jujuy and Salta…not sorry.) We met Mariela and Dani during the degustación, and the five of us decided to go to Beer Garden for lunch. We were almost positive that this was an inevitable tourist trap, but when we walked down a dirt road only to see a small little wooden building, surrounded by handpainted signs, we were pleasantly surprised. Beer Garden’s claim to fame is their artisan beer, which we ordered along with their homemade carne empanadas. ¡Qué ricoooooo!
Soon after lunch it was time for us to make our way back to BA. And by back to BA I mean flag down a colectivo on a deserted dirt road on the outskirts of Maipú, hoping that it was headed towards Mendoza…where we then would make our way back to the hostel…where we would then head to the airport, making our way back to BA. Las cenizas did not affect our journey whatsoever, however a snowstorm in Chile closed the border for a few days, forcing our fellow Chilean hostel-mates to fly back rather than take the bus. Ohhhh Chile. (One of the many reasons Argentina es mejor…hehe.)
I have less than a week left with Paloma and many of my other US friends in BA, which I am really dreading. We are going to Fuerzabruta on Friday night, which should be AMAZING.
As for school, I have two finals down, two more to go. (One due tomorrow, the last one in July.) I have all next week completely free to explore BA, which I am really looking forward to!
Next trip on the agenda: USA for a few weeks!
Chau,
audgentina.
We got to Mendoza late on Thursday night, staying at Hostel Lao , apparently the number one hostel in Latin America. They provided us with comfortable beds, an all-hostel asado (with some of the best chorizo I have ever had), and actually SATISFYING desayunos…they even had FRUIT! (A true accomplishment in Argentina.) Oh, and FREE wine. Winnnnnn.
Friday morning we woke up to begin our wine bike tours in Luján, a locality outside of Mendoza. Dani, a friend that we met in the hostel, came along with us as well. She is from England but has spent the year studying in Santiago, so we were able to share many similar study abroad stories. We showed up at Baccus bike rentals and got our semi-functioning bikes, sin helmets or any other kind of precautionary measures, and soon embarked on our very long, struggling day of wine “sipping.”
On Saturday we struggled to pull ourselves out of bed at a reasonable hour for our day full of gaucho activity. (Too much vino the day before…) A few cups of maté cocido later, I had rallied and was ready for my alpargatas. Dani, Cassie, Paloma, and I took the colectivo to Maipú, where our gaucho friend Cisar met us and took us to the campo. Foliage-rich trees arching over the dirt roads, never-ending rows of Malbec uvas, and spectacular Andes in the background…it was the perfect setting to go horseback riding. Or so I thought. (I should have known what was coming next, given the fact that my caballo’s name was Tornado.)
Apart from this terrifying little joy ride I went on, the afternoon was great. The scenery was breathtaking, and I felt so removed from the city. I love Buenos Aires so much, but it is so nice to get away from the noise and hustle of the city. (I found out this weekend that Buenos Aires is the loudest city in Latin America, and fourth loudest in the world…not so shocking though!) When we got back to the hostel I immediately passed out (too much adrenaline for one afternoon), and woke up a few hours later to a delicious asado in the hostel. There honestly is nothing like waking up to the rich aromas of chorizo and bife de chorizo coming from downstairs. This was night two of stuffing my face with carne, accompanied by copious copas of vino; I love this Argentine life.
 |
| Llama stare-down |
Soon after lunch it was time for us to make our way back to BA. And by back to BA I mean flag down a colectivo on a deserted dirt road on the outskirts of Maipú, hoping that it was headed towards Mendoza…where we then would make our way back to the hostel…where we would then head to the airport, making our way back to BA. Las cenizas did not affect our journey whatsoever, however a snowstorm in Chile closed the border for a few days, forcing our fellow Chilean hostel-mates to fly back rather than take the bus. Ohhhh Chile. (One of the many reasons Argentina es mejor…hehe.)
I have less than a week left with Paloma and many of my other US friends in BA, which I am really dreading. We are going to Fuerzabruta on Friday night, which should be AMAZING.
As for school, I have two finals down, two more to go. (One due tomorrow, the last one in July.) I have all next week completely free to explore BA, which I am really looking forward to!
Next trip on the agenda: USA for a few weeks!
Chau,
audgentina.
June 16, 2011
las cenizas
2012 may have come early for those of us in the Southern Hemisphere.
Last Saturday, el volcán Puyehue erupted in southern Chile, resulting in the evacuation of near 4,000 people in the area. However, the destruction didn’t stop there. The volcanic cenizas soon arrived to the Argentine Patagonia; particularly affecting the cities of Bariloche and Villa La Angostura, both located less than 100 kilometers from the volcano. Bariloche has over a meter of volcanic ash on the streets, and the techos of some houses have even collapsed because of the weight of the cenizas. But just a few days later, and some 1,700 km northeast from the eruption site, volcanic cenizas arrived in Buenos Aires. Zero visibility, a light layer of ash on the parked cars on the street, a musty overcast, and the pesky little cenizas even snuck their way onto my desk through my open window. Flights coming in and out of BA were cancelled for a good week, forcing Allegra and her novio to take a 40(!!!!!)-hour bus ride back from El Calafate. I think it’s safe to say that they’ll never set foot on a bus again for a very, VERY long time. 9,000 km west of the volcanic eruption, cenizas have arrived in Australia. AUSTRALIA. I mean seriously, what is happening to this world?!
Besides this little taste of mundial destruction, BA has been BA: busy, fun, and unpredictable. I have begun hacking away at my bucket list with Paloma since she leaves next Saturday…#depression. Our traditional post-cena wine dates last week included Möoi, sipping on our best friend, Santa Julia; and 878, where we stepped it up with some classier vino and some torrontés crème brûlée (which quite possibly may have been the greatest thing I have ever tasted...EVER).
One of my favorite places to go out at night is Club Cultural Matienzo. It is in Colegiales, very close to Belgrano, and every night they have a different event going on. Whether it is live music, tarot readings, or a local art exhibit, each night provides me with a fun time meeting new people and doing something new. On the first piso is the stage and some seating, where the events generally take place; second piso is the art exhibit with some more seating; and on the top piso they have this awesome outdoor terraza, covered with murals of crazy things only starving artists would think of drawing. Thursday night I went with Paloma, Rana, and Cassie, where we sat on the terrace, sipping on cheap, alternative cerveza while attempting to blend in with the starving artist community of Buenos Aires. I think I have found my people.
Friday afternoon Paloma and I went to Parque Tres de Febrero, BA’s Central Park. Lunch consisted of many empanadas from our favorite empanadaría, Tatú, and torrontés that we bought in Cafayate. There was a great deal of overcast due to the high concentration of cenizas in the cielo, but we had fun relaxing in the park and running away from a particular man shouting piropos at us. We did a little shopping afterwards, where I FINALLY bought a few things to add to my nonexistent winter wardrobe. Friday night we met up with Danny, Jay, Luisina, Lale, Mauri, and Noe at Noe’s apartment for a previa, and then heading to Mandarine Club for some boliche time, where La Champions Liga happened to have a little concierto! After our minor situation last weekend with the ladrones, Paloma and I were EXTREMELY cautious (and possibly borderline paranoid) when it came to guarding our bags, but didn’t let it ruin our night. I believe we got home around 6AM…totally normal. Muy buena onda esa noche.
Saturday was the first cloudless (and ceniza-less) day since the whole ceniza fiasco began, so Paloma and I went to Tigre. (It was my primera vez!) It’s about a forty-minute train ride from Belgrano, but once we got off I felt like I was miles away from the city. Tigre lies on the Paraná Delta and is a popular weekend destination for many porteños. Upon our arrival, Paloma took me directly to Waffle Mundo, where we each snacked on a delicious waffle, topped with dulce de leche, frutillas, crema y bananas. So. Delicious. We spent the remainder of the day wandering around the markets along the port, enjoying the semi-clean aire. As we headed back to the train station, a thick, grey cloud began to take over the beautiful pink/purple/orange…welcome back cenizas. Saturday night Luisina invited us to a birthday party, which pretty much consisted of drinking some Malbec and Fernet, lots of dancing, and of course choripan at the end of the night. Typical.
We struggled to drag ourselves out of bed on Sunday, for we had to get a relatively early start (…around 12) to get to la Feria de Mataderos. Mataderos is a barrio a little over an hour from Belgrano by colectivo (very close to Liniers, where the barrio boliviano is), and on Sundays they have this fantastic market that puts Recoleta and San Telmo to shame. Last Sunday also happened to be the 25th anniversary of the Feria de Mataderos, so there were even more vendors, performances, street food, and people than normal. Wonderfully overwhelming is how I would describe the market. There is literally EVERYTHING there, including a dulce de leche liquor. (Is this real life?) We did some shopping, took some pictures with a donkey/mule/pony-like creature (pictures to come), and obviously wound up eating some choripan. (Seriously, I don’t know what I’m going to do without chori in my life.) I finally gave in and bought my first leather bag for $80 AR! I love this place…and my new bag.
This week has been relatively uneventful as it marks the beginning of finals. Two classes down, two to go. Yesterday I grabbed lunch with Sara at Mark's where I had my first filling sandwich in a very long time. (Chicken, guacamole, tomatoes, and brie cheese…there are no words.) Afterwards I headed to Dada, a restobar in Plaza Serrano that turns into a fashion market in the early evening. Got a few winter essentials as well as some knock-out turquoise earrings. True life: I am a market junkie. Tonight I leave for Mendoza with Cassie and Paloma (hopefully the cenizas won't get in our way!), where we will be drinking LOTS of vino, horseback riding (our little Kentucky girl has never ridden a horse before! The irony will be epic), eating lots of asado, exploring the Andes, and maybe becoming a bit of a daredevil!
Chau,
audgentina.
Besides this little taste of mundial destruction, BA has been BA: busy, fun, and unpredictable. I have begun hacking away at my bucket list with Paloma since she leaves next Saturday…#depression. Our traditional post-cena wine dates last week included Möoi, sipping on our best friend, Santa Julia; and 878, where we stepped it up with some classier vino and some torrontés crème brûlée (which quite possibly may have been the greatest thing I have ever tasted...EVER).
One of my favorite places to go out at night is Club Cultural Matienzo. It is in Colegiales, very close to Belgrano, and every night they have a different event going on. Whether it is live music, tarot readings, or a local art exhibit, each night provides me with a fun time meeting new people and doing something new. On the first piso is the stage and some seating, where the events generally take place; second piso is the art exhibit with some more seating; and on the top piso they have this awesome outdoor terraza, covered with murals of crazy things only starving artists would think of drawing. Thursday night I went with Paloma, Rana, and Cassie, where we sat on the terrace, sipping on cheap, alternative cerveza while attempting to blend in with the starving artist community of Buenos Aires. I think I have found my people.
 |
| My two Argentine loves: Fernet y choripan |
Chau,
audgentina.
May 30, 2011
coca, consuela y chachi
Sometimes, things don’t exactly go as planned. In Argentina this happens a lot but I have learned to go with the flow, as long as my life is not put in danger.
On Tuesday Paloma and I left for a 6-day trip to northwestern Argentina, in the provincias of Salta and Jujuy. There was a little miscommunication and our flights were booked arriving and departing from opposite cities, but we quickly resolved this minor dilemma and thought that everything from that point forward would go smoothly.
Pero nos equivocamos.
Tuesday was a wet, rainy, windy, and all around gross day. I couldn’t even anticipate the turbulence that lay ahead, but my flight took off on time and besides the occasional bumps and drops, everything was going relatively smoothly.
An hour into the flight—just as we’re getting out of the intense turbulence zone—the captain announces that there is a gas leak in the plane and that we would be returning back to Buenos Aires. Yes, we were halfway to Jujuy so we could have just continued on to our final destination, furthermore there are several large cities in between Jujuy and Buenos Aires where we could have landed, but regardless the plane turned around and brought us back to the zone of deathly turbulence.
Gripping onto the side of my seat, palms sweating, heart racing, I was ready to just fast-forward to Jujuy. There was a plane crash in Patagonia less than a week beforehand, so that didn’t exactly help calm my nerves.
Coming in over the Costanera, the dirty Río de la Plata beneath us, passing the River Plate stadium, we were basically back at Jorge Newbery so I thought I was able to finally breathe. As we were coming in to land, just as the wheels are about to screech against the damp pavement of the runway, the plane starts to take off again. The pilot comes on the loudspeaker only to tell us that another plane was coming into land right behind us and that we had to loop around again to land. Sitting by the window, I curiously peer out the window to see if I could see the plane behind us. Not only could I SEE the plane, but it was just a few hundred feet behind the tail of our plane.
Hey Courtney, don’t you wish you had been on this flight?
Planes just don’t crash in the air…that is something that you can bet on NEVER happening. However, a lack of communication with the ATC tower may result otherwise. Seeing the nose of the other plane behind us, I was hit with a wave of nausea and felt like I was going to pass out. The woman next to me sees my panic and immediately takes my hand in an effort to calm me down.
Todo bien, todo bien.
And yes, everything was okay. I mean, the Jujuy airport was closed because of weather so we had to land in Salta and then be shuttled two hours in a combi to Jujuy, but I made it in one piece. (And only seven hours after I was supposed to arrive!)
Well, things can only get better from here!
Paloma and I went out to dinner at an empanadería with two French guys that we met in our hostel. I got empanadas de llama…¡increíbles! Northwest Argentina is known for their delicious regional food, such as tamales, humitas, sopa de maní, empanadas, llama, locro…and it actually comes picante!
The next day was May 25th, not only my beautiful mother’s birthday but also El Día de la Patria in Argentina. All stores were closed in the morning and the entire city of Jujuy assembled in the central plaza for a big desfile. We were in a sea of celeste and Soles de Mayo. Young school children, gauchos on caballo, members of the ejército, and veterans, among many others, filed down San Martín as they were presented to the observing jujeños. The sense of national pride, even in this city of less than 300,000, was tremendous and contagious. Instead of throwing candy to the spectators, alfajores and empanadas were handed out. The plaza was filled with pancho stands, mobile kioscos, and vendors selling Argentine flags, flag pins, flag ribbons…pretty much flag-anything. The marching band played some of Argentina’s national songs as the jujeños sang along. The orgullo argentino that was so simply and modestly revealed in the little city of San Salvador de Jujuy made me recognize my own orgullo argentino…I am an Argentine resident after all!
We spent the rest of the day exploring the city, wandering the street markets of pirated movies and imitation Nike products, trying new regional specialties, and munching on hojas de coca. Coca leaves are legal in the provincias of Jujuy and Salta, traditionally used for medical or religious purposes. I basically relied on coca leaves when I was in Peru in 2008, as they are very effective with fighting altitude sickness. Las hojas de coca saved me again this past week, as we were between 5,000-13,000 feet above sea level at different points throughout the week. The coca leaves also awesomely numb your mouth when you chew on them…which you know, is always fun.
On Thursday we went on an excursion to Las Salinas Grandes. I visited some salt flats in Córdoba, but the ones in Jujuy (and Salta) are known for being pure salitre that extend for miles and miles, so we decided to check them out. Our guide first took us through some small indigenous villages (one of the villages only had one telephone for the entire community!), up through the autopista panamericana, and into Purmamarca where we hiked in the Quebrada de Humahuaca through the Cerro de los Siete Colores. The different colors on the mountain are a result of different sediments, each color signifying a different time period. The air was thin, we were huffin’ and puffin’, but it was such an extraordinary view that our inability to breathe seemed trivial. The reds, oranges, purples, and greens of the mountains were so unlike anything I had ever seen before, and I can’t even illustrate the radiance of the quebrada in words nor in photos.
While some of us grabbed lunch at a deli in Purmamarca (this means jamón crudo!), others opted to have a more regional dish in a small village on the way to the salt flats. After trying two closed restaurants, we arrived at one that had lunch but only for three people. Some had to ration, but we left with panzas llenas. After lunch we went up to Las Salinas Grandes…sunglasses necessary. We spent an hour roaming around the infinite flats, taking pictures of ourselves in the palm of someone’s hand, standing on people’s shoulders, ninja-fighting, eating our mini-friends, and with our dancing Bolivian people. The blinding reflection from the purely white salt left us sunburned, tired, dehydrated, and partially blind (for those without sunglasses), but we all still had smiles on our faces. Before heading back to Jujuy we stopped back at the Purmamarca market where we all loaded up on llama sweaters, scarves, and other cosas artesenales. Jujeños are predominantly indigenous with dark complexions, so they are immediately drawn to my light green eyes. ¡Qué bellos ojos! I may or may not have used this to my advantage when it came to haggling prices. Winnnnn.
Paloma and I went to Tilcara on Friday, a small town nestled in the Quebrada de Humahuaca, about an hour and a half from Jujuy. We got there in the early afternoon and had a long (two hours!) lunch at a cute little restaurant, where we stuffed ourselves with empanadas, chorizo, and morcilla. We were seated in front of the window…ultimate people watching. A woman walked by selling indigenous dolls made out of seeds in a colorful dress…so naturally we both had to run out and get one for ourselves. We named hers Chachi and mine Consuela…and they are our new best friends. (Peep them lovin' each other to the left.) After lunch we began wandering the streets of Tilcara, hoping to make our way to the ruins or Garganta del Diablo. Well, we got sidetracked at the market (again, using my ojos verdes to my advantage), and ended up buying some pretty badass converse, woven with colorful, indigenous cloth. Don’t know how well these shoes will be accepted in the US, but I’m in Argentina for over six more months, and I plan on getting as much use out of them as possible. We headed back to Jujuy, stopped at our hostel, then went back to the bus station and hopped onto our bus to Salta. Paloma and I arrived around 10:30, and although we had a long day, we were still ready to hit up a peña. We got to La Vieja Estación around 11:30 (acceptable time for dinner in Argentina), getting one of the last seats in the house. Lots of folklore music, empanadas, tamales, and vino…buena onda.
On Saturday we woke up early and got on a bus to Cafayate, about four hours south of Salta. Sara and Devon met us at the bus station and we immediately began our wine-tasting adventures. We started at Bodega Nanni, an organic, family-run vineyard. We were introduced to Torrontés, a dry white wine and Cafayate’s claim to fame. At Bodega Nanni we started talking to our tour guide who is actually from Boston. She was telling us about how she moved to Argentina for sustainable development in La Plata and then wound up working at this vineyard in Cafayate. She didn’t care that she was earning Argentine wages because she was so happy where she was. Talking with her really inspired me to do what I love. Right now, owning and running a vineyard seems to be my calling, but I’m still working out all the details. Walking around Cafayate, I fell in love. It is surrounded by gorgeous mountains, a similar landscape to Tilcara but much more green. The pink mountains in the distance make the beauty of Cafayate so incredibly unique. We went to three other vineyards, but I enjoyed the wines at Bodega Nanni more. They were much smoother than the others (especially Bodega Vasija Secreta, whose wine was a little too bitter for my liking), plus they’re all organic! After we vino-ed our way through Cafayate we wound up at an ice cream parlor that has Torrontés and Cabernet Sauvignon flavored ice cream…MAJOR win. Cabernet was my favorite, but they were both delicious. I mean…it’s WINE ice cream. A pretty ultimate fusion of life’s essentials, if you ask me.
Paloma left early Sunday morning so I spent the day with Mya and Kirsten. We had awesome luck with the weather all week; every day was sunny without a cloud in the sky. But on Sunday it was a bit gloomy, so we went to the supermercado, got some Malbec, cheese, crackers, and chocolate, and had a huge snuggle session in the hostel. LOTS of laughing, obvio, and before I knew it I was headed back to BA.
I’m off to Mendoza next! Bike-wine tours…here I come! (Watch out pedestrians.)
Chau,
audgentina.
On Tuesday Paloma and I left for a 6-day trip to northwestern Argentina, in the provincias of Salta and Jujuy. There was a little miscommunication and our flights were booked arriving and departing from opposite cities, but we quickly resolved this minor dilemma and thought that everything from that point forward would go smoothly.
Pero nos equivocamos.
Tuesday was a wet, rainy, windy, and all around gross day. I couldn’t even anticipate the turbulence that lay ahead, but my flight took off on time and besides the occasional bumps and drops, everything was going relatively smoothly.
An hour into the flight—just as we’re getting out of the intense turbulence zone—the captain announces that there is a gas leak in the plane and that we would be returning back to Buenos Aires. Yes, we were halfway to Jujuy so we could have just continued on to our final destination, furthermore there are several large cities in between Jujuy and Buenos Aires where we could have landed, but regardless the plane turned around and brought us back to the zone of deathly turbulence.
Gripping onto the side of my seat, palms sweating, heart racing, I was ready to just fast-forward to Jujuy. There was a plane crash in Patagonia less than a week beforehand, so that didn’t exactly help calm my nerves.
Coming in over the Costanera, the dirty Río de la Plata beneath us, passing the River Plate stadium, we were basically back at Jorge Newbery so I thought I was able to finally breathe. As we were coming in to land, just as the wheels are about to screech against the damp pavement of the runway, the plane starts to take off again. The pilot comes on the loudspeaker only to tell us that another plane was coming into land right behind us and that we had to loop around again to land. Sitting by the window, I curiously peer out the window to see if I could see the plane behind us. Not only could I SEE the plane, but it was just a few hundred feet behind the tail of our plane.
Hey Courtney, don’t you wish you had been on this flight?
Planes just don’t crash in the air…that is something that you can bet on NEVER happening. However, a lack of communication with the ATC tower may result otherwise. Seeing the nose of the other plane behind us, I was hit with a wave of nausea and felt like I was going to pass out. The woman next to me sees my panic and immediately takes my hand in an effort to calm me down.
Todo bien, todo bien.
And yes, everything was okay. I mean, the Jujuy airport was closed because of weather so we had to land in Salta and then be shuttled two hours in a combi to Jujuy, but I made it in one piece. (And only seven hours after I was supposed to arrive!)
Well, things can only get better from here!
Paloma and I went out to dinner at an empanadería with two French guys that we met in our hostel. I got empanadas de llama…¡increíbles! Northwest Argentina is known for their delicious regional food, such as tamales, humitas, sopa de maní, empanadas, llama, locro…and it actually comes picante!
We spent the rest of the day exploring the city, wandering the street markets of pirated movies and imitation Nike products, trying new regional specialties, and munching on hojas de coca. Coca leaves are legal in the provincias of Jujuy and Salta, traditionally used for medical or religious purposes. I basically relied on coca leaves when I was in Peru in 2008, as they are very effective with fighting altitude sickness. Las hojas de coca saved me again this past week, as we were between 5,000-13,000 feet above sea level at different points throughout the week. The coca leaves also awesomely numb your mouth when you chew on them…which you know, is always fun.
The peña at La Vieja Estación in Salta
Paloma left early Sunday morning so I spent the day with Mya and Kirsten. We had awesome luck with the weather all week; every day was sunny without a cloud in the sky. But on Sunday it was a bit gloomy, so we went to the supermercado, got some Malbec, cheese, crackers, and chocolate, and had a huge snuggle session in the hostel. LOTS of laughing, obvio, and before I knew it I was headed back to BA.
I’m off to Mendoza next! Bike-wine tours…here I come! (Watch out pedestrians.)
Chau,
audgentina.
April 28, 2011
la meca norteamericana
Buenos Aires, la meca norteamericana - lanacion.com
I read this article the other day in La Nación, one of the national Argentine newspapers. Thought it would be interesting for everyone to read and get a taste of what BA is like! (Google translate will be very helpful for most!)
Chau,
audgentina.
I read this article the other day in La Nación, one of the national Argentine newspapers. Thought it would be interesting for everyone to read and get a taste of what BA is like! (Google translate will be very helpful for most!)
Chau,
audgentina.
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