Uruguay

Been neglecting this place. I promise I’ll update soon. As in by the end of the day. In the meantime, look at some pics. The photos that look scenic are from Punta Del Este, Uruguay. Thanks so much María.

Is this rejection?

Apparently there’s 4 stages when it comes to living in a new country: euphoria, rejection, adjustment and something else I forgot. I haven’t actually reached euphoria, but I did reach a minor sense of rejection. Two nights ago I’m lying in my bed after attempting and failing to finish my homework, drifting off to sleepy land, only to have a sudden panic thought of something happening to me, my brother or my father. I couldn’t sleep after that. I e-mailed my father and after having a great conversation towards the end of the day, I felt a lot better. More safe. You see, this country is literally at the bottom of the world. And honestly, I could feel it. There’s a sort of isolated feeling that I sense in Argentina. It’s so large, it’s so overwhelming, if something were to happen to me, how would anyone find out? Anyway, I feel better now. I have “my” things. When I say “my” things, I mean that I have my own comfort places I go to here. I have my café where I do homework, read the newspaper, talk to the hot barista with the deep green eyes. I have my kiosko where I the man who works it with a couple of missing teeth always calls me preciosa cause he loves my smile from which I buy my calling cards from and I have my lavadero where I they wash, dry and fold my clothes for 7 pesos. All these things keep me feeling comfortable. Also, I signed up with my friend Liz to take French courses at French Alliance here in Argentina. It all came out to 500 pesos and some change which is is 150 dollars. Pennies in comparison to what I would have paid in the states.

Last friday I went to a club called Fugees which is owned by some Nigerians that plays dancehall and reggaeton music. The music was hot, the people were not. I thought I was in the twilight zone with all the chongalicious Argentine girls with their LL Cool L-inspired pant leg up, pant leg down wardrobe complete with blue bandana, hoop earings and a tongue piercing. Not my scene at all. I went to another club last night called Club 69 (yeah, I know right?) which I paid 40 pesos to get in (yeah, I know right?) in which every one there was hella douchey. I don’t know why I continue to go to clubs when I know I hate them. I notice that I haven’t vetured anywhere outside of  the Palermo or Recoletta neighborhoods as much as I’d like to, so I need to keep that in mind. Going out here really is a trip. I’m still not accustomed to waiting until 1 in the morning to find out where I’m going to for the night. The time here is pushed ahead by like 4 hours in relation to the time in the states. It’s throwing me off, seriously.

Saturday a couple of us went to San Isidro to visit a mutual friend’s home who’s from Argentina and is here studying abroad. Her house was gorgeous, her family was warm and her friends cooked dinner for us and we played drinking games. 

 

 

Random thought: people here tend to assume I’m either Dominican or Brasilian so I think I’m just going to start telling people I’m Swedish to throw them off. 

 

I bought my guitar yesterday

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My friend Liz and I were supposed to be getting free lessons, but the guy turned out to be a fake bastard. We put up an ad on craigslist instead.

We went to Tigre last Friday

We were on our own private island complete with a beach, kayaking, pool, jacuzzi, bar and 4 course meal. I don’t deserve it.

Why am I always lost?

This week was a pretty intense one. I got lost by myself among a sea full of people who did not look like me for an hour and a half and after speaking with my host mother apparently I was in a very bad part of town, ie the ghetto. The streets here tend to change names suddenly and one wrong turn ends you up in a part of town that looks like it’s under occupation by police forces. Whatever, I’m alive, yeah? and  I now feel broken in. I have yet to be able to find my destination with ease unless I’m taking the subte (subway) to school. The subte here is ok. It’s extremely crowded, there’s no air conditioning and there’s only like 5 lines but I’m guaranteed to get to my destination on time rather than trusting my instincts. This city is so massive. It absolutely doesn’t compare to Miami, NYC, Madrid, nothing that I am accustomed to. Plus, there is a severe lack of street signs and when they say that a street is 3 blocks away, they really mean that it is (what feels like) 12 blocks away.  Also, there’s always the most random liquids on the streets and also falling from the sky. The buses here are called collectivos and I’m convinced I will never ever know how to use them. There’s about 180 of them, they’re all over the place and it just looks like one big mess. Today I wasted some of my rare and precious monedas on a bus fare only to go in the complete opposite direction in which I didn’t realize until it was the last stop. Trips that should normally take me 2o mins tops, take me a little over an hour. It’s ridiculous. I’ve also been late to dinner due to my being green with the city twice out of the five times that I’ve had dinner with my host mom. Tomorrow I’m going to seriously try and get it together, use the collevtivo guide (guia-T) and hopefully get familiar with the bus system. 

This week was a pretty good week for socializing. NYU had a bunch of events for orientation that were mandatory (lol @ NYU thinking they can make me do anything) and I decided to go to the ones that weren’t the lamest. They were pretty helpful, I just don’t understand why one would need a two hour presentation on safety in buenos aires. I went to a bar Monday night called Shamrock that’s about 2 blocks from my friend’s apartment, which was fine considering it was Monday. Tuesday night I was exhausted from the day and decided to stay in. I was knocked out within 30 minutes after eating my dinner with my host mom, who by the way has never worked a day in her life. Wednesday night, a bunch of NYU kids and I went to a bar called Congo, had a few ( a lot) of drinks and migrated together like a pack of wolves. Everyone is extremely friendly and down to party, but I will never do that again. I’m trying to acclimate into the culture, not be outcasted. Not to mention, we were seriously the loud, obnoxious, stammering Americans that everyone around the world complains about *shudders* The pictures we took were very cute though.

Yesterday was probably the best day I had this week, even if I didn’t really do much. My friends Jacob and Liz and I after orientation decided to go to Plaza Italia to buy some necessities and then we hightailed it to the botanical gardens. There were some NYU kids there who invited us to come sit with them and drink wine, but I saw two guitar players and got curious. They were playing some traditional Argentine folk music and had a wooden flute-like instrument. I originally went over to ask them if they knew anywhere that I could buy guitars. Oh yeah, I decided to learn the guitar while I’m here. I only have class twice a week so I have to fill up my schedule and be productive somehow. Right? Anyway, what started as a question out of curiousity turned into a spontaneous guitar and flute lesson, a mate session, dancing, singing and general feel-good time. It was amazing. One of them, Ariel, who is originally from Barcelona, Spain, said he would accompany me to buy a guitar whenever I was ready and that he would give me free guitar lessons. ¡Qué genial! Tonight I’m going to a bar and then afterwards I’ll be hopefully heading to a club here in bsas called Fugees 99 that’s owned by some Nigerians and which plays Hip Hop, Dancehall, Reggaeton, Soul, Funk, R&B and Zouk. 

I really need to learn how to cook, I don’t think I’m too fond of my host mother’s cooking. Today she served pasta with ketchup.

The woman dancing was so vibrant. She was there with her husband, son and nephew and they kept making request after request after request. Woman had more rhythm than anyone I know. Her son who claimed to be 10, but I think he was like 7, was also extremely witty and I could imagine her popping him in the mouth with a mate gourd. He showed my friend how to dance to electro music. And now my friend can’t stop making an ass of himself when we’re in public.

Where Am I?

So  I know I’m in Buenos Aires, but really…where am I? I don’t know what it is but this place confuses me. I’ve been here for 12 hrs and I still don’t know what to make of it.

So the flight here took about 8.30 hours. It was actually pretty painless. I had momentary freak out moments though like when the concierge told me that there were in fact no seats left for me (even though I already pre-selected my seats) or when I prayed that my obviously over-sized bag wasn’t going to be so over-sized that I’d risk being charged. As I was waiting to board the Aerolineas flight, as bad as it is, I was anxiously searching for at least one person of color: black, Asian a Latino from the Caribbean, ANYTHING. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall trying to block out the screams of anxious children and the stares I seemed to get from people who looked concerned as to whether or not I was lost. I opened my eyes and POOF. A dark skinned, very attractive black man with dreads standing a few feet from me waiting checking and re-checking his boarding pass, relieved that he was early enough to relax. I kept hoping that we could make some sort of physical contact with one another, whether it’s a eye wink of head nod, but to no avail.

I decided then to put on my ipod and wait. and wait. and wait some more. Finally seat sections were called and I decided to join the line once the line seemed clear enough. I gave my boarding pass to the conceirege and dready flowed suit. So more waiting ensued and dready and I finally made somewhat awkward contact. He broke the ice asking me “how are you?” haha. I wanted to yell OMG SO MUCH BETTER NOW THAT I HAVE FOUND YOU. but that’s tacky and obnoxious. We exchanged courtesy greetings, names (i can’t even remember his), where we were from etc. It could be my ignorance but I was SHOCKED when he told me he way born and raised in Uruguay and currently plays for their national team. He told me he flew to Argentina all the time and I believed him because the flight attendants knew him on a first name basis. We attempted to sit next to each other but the guy sitting next to him must have been a fan cause his ass wasn’t budging. He asked for my number but I didn’t have one. He offered his number but for some reason I respectfully declined. I told him to look out for me in the city a la Where’s Waldo. I really do hope he finds me.

After shitty airplane food, awkward Portuguese conversation, loud children and a loud New Yorker, I arrived hella early and let me tell you… immigration in Argentina is a joke. I know for a FACT that my immigration card was not correct, and instead of asking me questions pertaining to my immigration status, she commented on how she liked my bangs. Fine by me, but this is not good in a post 9-11 world! I got my bags, exchanged some cash, and was off to look for NYU to transfer me to school for the check in process. Coming out the airport was a very surreal experience. Really, the Buenos Aires airport reminds me of the Kingston airport in Jamaica. You have people staring at you, perplexed as to why this morenita está aca and the most obnoxious sales people yelling at you from the sidelines “MISS! WANT A TAXI??? MISS!!! TAXI??” I’d like to think that was my paparazzi moment. I should have struck a pose.

Check in was simple and I was the only person there with one other student, I hung around, was treated straight VIP status with butlers and the like, checked my email, got my Argentine mobile, a map and I was good to go. My home madre came to pick me up and we headed to my new home for 4 months. The living arrangements are nice enough. I have my own room, bathroom, desk but my roommates room is far nicer as her internet works and her room is nice and cool. I have no complaints though cause it could be worse. My madre is nice enough, she’s very helpful and we’re going to have our first official dinner at 9. I’m officially here but I still feel somewhat absent from it all. But it should still be some good times.

I left my battery chargers for BOTH of my cameras. Life is rough.

¡¡¡¡¡Vammoossss!!!!!!!!

The day is finally here!! (kinda). Today is the day that I leave the comfort of similarity and familiarity for italian-esque spanish and a city at the bottom of the world. I’m writing this so early in the morning because I highly doubt I’ll have time to do it tomorrow. I woke up this morning trying to plan out my day accordingly. After having went on a Macy’s shopping spree the night before with a credit card that I didn’t know that I had, I woke up this morning thinking to myself, “shit, wtf did i buy?” I checked my iphone for the notes that I had written detailing what I needed to buy/bring with me to Argentina. My list was so ridiculous, it went from something as vague as “Accessories and Clothes” to “Rx for Brown Skin Bright and Clear Regimen Set.” My list was so helpful, I just decided to abandon it all together. 

I did the basic stuff like buying an adaptor for Argentina (apparently Argentina uses two types of adaptors), bought an extra memory card for my canon camera, picked up my contacts, etc etc. Afterwards I went to visit my grandmother who is visiting from Jamaica and staying with my great aunt. After my mom’s death, my grandmother has become so fragile emotionally and physically that the even thought of her one and only granddaughter moving to a country that she is none too familiar with, made her stammer in her speech and you could see her grow increasingly uncomfortable. It was a fun time nonetheless; we shared plenty “do you remember when?” stories and my aunt made us maddd soup which I didn’t have the heart to tell her needed much more spices. Thank God I ate a chicken sandwich beforehand. 

After leaving my dad, brother and I stopped at Target on our way home so I could get some more stuff to fit in my most likely already oversized luggage. I ended up spending 300+ dollars in Target. I don’t even know how that’s possible considering the fact that it seems that I only bought lotion, tampons and eyeliner. I went home and now I feel defeated after packing, de-packing and re-packing over and over trying to get all of my things in 1 big suitcase, a duffel bag and a little rollie. I need another maleta. I also still have little meaningless (but really meaningful to me) things I need to do/buy: pedicure, manicure, waxing, leggings. If I can get all of these things done before 2:00, I’d treat myself to a drink.

I’m pretty excited for this trip. I’ve gotten into contact with various djs, street artists and random down ass people who are up to showing me around bsas (that’s buenos aires for short) which has me feeling pretty good. I’ve also found reggae and dancehall venues, cumbia and baile funk mash up events and a hip hop club that was opened up by some Nigerian fellows. All in all I’m feeling pretty good about finding my little niches while I’m abroad while still being immersed in Argentine culture (whatever that may be).

 Random thoughts:

I’ve been looking high and low for an Obama shirt and would reallly love to find one before I head out. I’m tryna rep for him even internationally, you know what I mean?

I’ve been obsessively googling myself for 3 days now.

Bombing Buenos Aires

I love street culture.

I love it even more in another language.

T-9 Days

I know I have been completely neglecting this blog, but I’ve been so busy studying my languages (why did i decide to learn 4 at once?), starting a new health quick, having epiphanies of the sort, mapping out buenos aires, talking to my home stay mother, visiting friends around my home state before i bid them a farewell, researching law schools, etc, etc. All of my friends from school have already left the country  to some of the most exotic places: Ghana, Cuba, Spain, South Africa, etc. But for some reason, thanks to NYU in Buenos Aires’ scheduling,  I haven’t left to Argentina as of yet. Instead I’ve been home wallowing in self pity as my friends update me on their experiences mingling with Cuban hip hop DJs and how their Madrileño house mother steals the earplugs of her new American son. Instead I’ve begun to prepare myself by making contacts with some street artists, djs and the like.

I also spent an hour and a half speaking to the husband of a dominican woman who will most likely be doing my hair while I’m in bsas about the ins and outs of politics, race, food, life, w/e. We barely touched on my hair, but I’m not sure he would have known what to do with it.

wtf tampa?

All I want for Christmas is to go to Jesus Camp

Really though. Where have I been? Where is the sign-up sheet? I must be a part of this gem! Jesus, wilderness and dancing is all my little heart needs to be content. I’m really not religious, but damnit I’ll try if it means that I get to speak in tongues. My favorite part in the entire doc is when the preacher/crusader for Christ proclaims that had Harry Potter lived during the era of Jesus Christ “HE WOULDA BEEN KILLLLED.” I need this woman to take me under her Christ-like wings and adopt me. My favorite Child of Christ is Levi and his mullet. He’s so earnest and sincere and just so socially awkward that I hard time ridiculing him. He’s like the Michael Cera of Jesus Camp, and for that, I love him.

 

Let’s take a break. And Laugh.

Remember the Argentine slang/pop culture post I made about two, 3 posts down? Guess what?There’s even conflict between floggers and glams against chetos. I found the funniest video shedding light on this cultural phenomenon in Argentina. It’s in Spanish =( but if you don’t speak/understand spanish, watch it anyway. You’ll get the jist of it all, and it really had me looking ridiculous laughing out loud. The narrator of this video needs his own show. Check out his other videos of other pop culture commentary in Argentina. If anyone needs any translation I can help, but I doubt you’d need it. What do you think?