dale dale dale and almost die in the process!!

there's nothing like being awoken from a nap with an hijo de puta and concha tu madre tirade. one september afternoon, i was ripped from a blissful sleep to these guttural screams of my 16-year old host brother iñaki. in my half-asleepness, i panicked and thought something serious had happened.

i guess something serious kinda had happened?? at least, if you had asked my argentine bro, he would claim so. the referee had made a bad call against his beloved team, river plate, and iñaki was NOT pleased. in the midst of his seemingly never-ending tirade of "basura, basura, basura!!!" (trash), accompanied by even louder complaints from a group of guys on the floor above us, i decided that before leaving argentina, i simply had no choice but to attend a soccer game between local teams. early on in the semester, i was lucky enough to attend the "friendly" between spain and argentina, which was an absolute ball but didn't quite capture the same insanity that unfolds when local teams go at it on the field. if there's one thing that argentines are more passionate and crazy about than politics, it's, without a doubt, soccer.

in november, the date for the famous superclásico rolled around, the biggest athletic event of the year in argentina when rival teams river plate and boca juniors go head-to-head. i had told iñaki that if he ever heard anything through the grape vine about non-members getting tickets to let me know asap, even though he warned me that nabbing a pair would be almost next to impossible. i explained that i was willing to pull some sketchy moves to make it all happen.

fortunately, i didn't have to pull any sketchy moves for the tickets, though i did have quite the adventure getting them once and for all. while i was in mendoza with my friends for the weekend, he sent me a link saying there would be general tickets on sale starting at 10am the monday i was set to arrive back home. when i stumbled back into the apartment at 7am, delirious with lack of sleep and my hair looking like a tornado had just descended, he was fortunately still getting ready for school and when i asked him if there was ANY possibility of getting tickets and whether it would even be worth trying at that point, his only answer was "ahora" (now) repeated over and over. he was practically shoving me out the door. i dropped my bags, brushed my teeth, and literally fled the building looking like a trainwreck and starving beyond belief but determined to nab myself a pair of tickets. the morning doorman was quite perplexed when i sprinted out of the building only ten minutes after i had arrived. (later he was NOT pleased to find out that i would be cheering for river and not for boca, his personal team of choice).

in my desperation to get to the river stadium as soon as possible, i hopped into a taxi for an expensive ride to the neighborhood of belgrano. there was no way i was gonna risk a colectivo fail (my colectivo success rate is roughly 2%) and lose time trying to find my way across the city. when we arrived, i will never forget stepping out of the cab and being greeted by the fixed stares of roughly 100 HOMBRES PUROS (PURE MEN). like, SUCH manly men. burly, greasy, tough looking, hard-core fans down to the bone. i was definitely weaseling my way into what was a total male domain. there was not a single female in sight. and, other than my extraterrestrial self, there was DEFINITELY not a single blond, young, tall, blue-eyed, or american woman in sight. suffice to say, i was a little intimidated and a little out of place. nonetheless, i held my head high, my shoulders back, and tried my best NOT to trip as 100 sets of confused eyes followed me to my place in the back of the line. i settled in for the next three hour wait, in what would become an epic battle between the clock and my bladder and the weather.

in my hurriedness, i had completely neglected to dress for the occasion and arrived wearing jeans, sandals, and a tiny little windbreaker. the clouds overhead were pretty menacing and i literally spent the entire time praying to god the downpour would hold out until i got my ticket. everyone around me was well-prepared with coats and umbrellas. great moment was when the samoan-sized security guard took one look at me and my strappy sandals, as some light droplets started to fall, and outright laughed at me. when the rain started, a nice peruvian guy named jorge took pity on me and gave me some refuge under his umbrella, while we chatted. he gave me good advice on what tickets and what section to buy and, after surviving the rain and the line together, we split a cab ride in the total downpour to the bus we both needed. thank god for nice people and random acts of kindness towards hopeless gringas like me.

after a week of anticipation, the day of the superclásico finally arrived. after a crazy morning of classes and tutoring, i rushed home to change into my red shirt (wearing any shade of boca blue would have probably gotten me killed. no big deal.) and head out to the river plate stadium with thomas.

my immediate reaction upon arriving at the stadium: THIS IS WAR. literally, i felt like i was stepping foot onto a battle ground. the war-like atmosphere only got more and more intense over the course of the game. argentine's take their soccer very seriously and you constantly have to be watching your back. fortunately, river had several thousand security guards on duty for the event.

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thomas and i settled into our midfield seats and took in the unbelievable scene in front of us. the die-hard river plate fans, referred to lovingly as los borrachos del tablón (the drunks of the terrace), were in full swing in their barra brava sections behind one of the goals. Thousands chanting anthem after anthem, swinging enormous flags, and eventually covering the entire section with a massive river plate banner.  the first half remained tied at 0-0. at the beginning of the second half, river finally caught a break and scored after many failed attempts. naturally, the place went absolutely wild. just uncontrollable. i was totally expecting that and joined in on the fun!!!

I TOTALLY wasn't expecting what came next though.... in response to the well-deserved and well-done river goal, the boca fans whipped out giant FIRE BOMBS. i am not kidding. they were big, flaming, balls of FIRE. my only response was an eloquent WHAT. THE. FUCK. IS. GOING. ON. the fire bombs were pretty nuts to begin with. but THEN, the boca fans started launching them over the balcony and attacking the river fans below. it was terrifying and i was thanking god that i was NOT in the "popular" section. whoever chooses a seat underneath boca fans it LITERALLY risking their life. the entire lower section of river fans fled the scene and police forces regained control in the boca upper section. but no one was arrested or taken out as far as i could tell from my seat.

the boca section becomes incensed after river's goal (literally). look at the fire bomb in the bottom right corner, destined for a river fan!! many more would be flung from above during the next few mins. 

river eventually won the game 1-0 and celebrated with endless confetti, probably consisting of several thousand clarín newspapers. by the end of the game, i was thrilled to have been a witness to what my apartment porter referred to as the most magical event in all of argentina. i don't know if i would call the superclásico magical per-se, but it was definitely an unforgettable sight to see. to avoid riots and violent clashes among the different fans, the boca fans were herded out by police after the game and directed away from the stadium. we rivers fans waited a good 20-30 minutes before being allowed to exit the stadium and then hit the streets for celebration. the city was alive with energy for the rest of the night, every colectivo packed with river fans hanging out of the windows screaming "yo soy de river" and asking the drivers to honk their horns incessantly.

between the boca bombs and the river firecrackers, the stadium was an absolute war zone. the argentine soccer stadium is a symbolic battleground as well, a warring center stage where neighborhood pride is visibly contested, the traditionally working-class boca neighborhood going up against the elitist, affluent river fans of suburban belgrano. in that sense, the soccer game becomes much more than just a game, but rather a symbolic reflection of socioeconomic clashes. winning the superclásico is a bigger deal for the fans than for the players themselves: whichever community wins can proudly claim that they are superior not just in soccer but in heart, in wealth, in class, whatever they want.

here, soccer is more than just a pastime or a passion, it's literally organizes the social framework of buenos aires society.  i have my own criticisms of the soccer world here, because so much of what i've observed makes me rethink of the game not just as a fun pastime, but more of a stage for discrimination. i'm all about booing your opponents (giants vs. dodgers durrrr) but the argentines use the rivalry as a guise for ethnic and socioeconomic discrimination. for example, in my host brother's facebook album of photos from the game, the caption underneath a photo of the boca's partially empty fan section reads "you didn't even fill up on a superclásico. did the buses from bolivia not arrive??". certain soccer cheers are equally offensive and exclusively characterized by insulting the social demographic of an opposing team's fan base, be it jews or lower class workers or latin american immigrants. the culture of soccer in argentina is one grounded more in discrimination than diversion. i love soccer and i love argentina, but that doesn't really sit well in my stomach.

so, i'm not sure where i totally stand on the soccer thing in argentina, but one thing i do know for sure is that it's a world of utter MADNESS!!!

i'm crying for you, argentina

after wrapping up my last exams and giving UBA a classy middle-finger farewell, i finally had the opportunity to get back to fully enjoying the city and loving argentines and loving my life here.   school stress ceased to be in the picture and i finally went back to breathing those "good airs" of buenos aires. despite the fact that being a student here in argentina was borderline traumatic, i survived. only three days left here in this fascinating country that i've come to absolutely adore.

10 things i will sorely miss about buenos aires 

1) the mysterious music man in my building who blasts great reggaeton music when the sun goes down. literally, blasts. i cant even imagine how big his stereo system is, the entire building was practically thumping one night, before he got in a tussle with a neighbor and shut off the music. i don't know who he is, but he has enriched my time here with booming dance parties to makano and daddy yankee.

2) the dog-walking groups. no brainer. whenever i pass the hoards of dog-walking groups in palermo or stroll through plaza lavalle near my house and watch the dogs taking their rest break together around lunchtime, i stop and think to myself: COULD THERE BE A MORE PERFECT CITY FOR ME?!?!?! although argentine owners have some odd aversion to picking up their dogs' droppings (i've had to learn to walk with my head down to avoid the doggie dumps that litter each corner), i can't help but adore those little sweeties.

the best medialunas in the entire city

3) the café culture. there is nothing better than cozying up in an empty café, pulling out a newspaper or some readings for class, and sipping away on a coffee or fresh squeezed orange juice. i've probed about thirty different cafés since being here and i absolutely adore them. i especially love the one on the corner of my house, which is always quiet and has quite the eye-candy waiter, jorge. i also love not getting hassled by waiters if you feel like staying for four hours and merely paying $2 for a coffee at the end of it all. the customer service here kinda blows, but the great thing is that waiters are never shoving the check in your face and hinting that you should probably get the heck outta there.

4) oreo alfajores. these became an obsession of mine in the past few months. every kiosco has standard alfajores, but oreo ones are a rarer find. thus, after much exploring and denials, i have managed to map out buenos aires based on which kioscos have them and have staked out a carrier in each neighborhood that i ever have to be in, in the off-chance (a daily off-chance) that the craving hits me: i have one location across the street of my apartment building, one a block down from FLACSO, cheap ones on the second corner of my anthropology building....the list goes on.....

5) little kids speaking argentine spanish. basically, it's the CUTEST THING EVER. the argentine accent still strikes me as super elegant and sophisticated, very adult-ish. which is why whenever i hear a kid open their yap with beautiful porteño lilts, i always wanna laugh. just doesn't work, but still so adorable and endearing.

6) pumpkin ravioles at teodoro's. every week, almost religiously, my friend hannah and i (and we eventually pulled thomas and paige into the tradition!!) would hit up an amazing little hole in the wall on callao, where the decor is eclectic and the menu ejecutivo is my dream come true. for 38 pesos, about ten american dollars, i dined like a queen on wine, amazing ravioles with fresh pumpkin filling, endless bread baskets, and ice cream!! ALWAYS worth the extra pound i gained following each lunch!!

7) rollerbladers. in argentina, rollerblading is not considered an activity for losers. i totally regret not having bought rollerblades when i got here and joining some group. every time i stroll through the parks in palermo, i spot at least a handful of rollerbladers, confidently gliding around. my dad would love this place!!

cheap produce is the best!! 

8) the little mostly bolivian-run fruit markets. whereas back at home, my options are either giant safeways and whole foods, or the once a week farmers markets, definitely one of my favorite things about buenos aires are the tiny fresh fruit stores on every block. open-aired with wooden fruit baskets literally spilling onto the sidewalks, staffed by friendly bolivians, the largest immigrant group in argentina and the main controllers of the produce market in buenos aires. right now, the cherries are DIVINE!! i have made friends with the vendors from the shop on my street because of it. i am overly giddy bagging up my half-kilo of cherries and they get a kick out of my excessive enthusiasm but are too nice and unassuming to tell me "oye chica, it's just fruit for god's sake!!". i can't make it through the day without hitting that place up for my fruit fix.

9) breadbasket biker guys in the morning. even though waking up at 7am for my 8am anthropology class every tuesday morning was kinda rough, i loved walking the sixteen blocks to class and watching the city come alive.

10) speaking spanish almost all of the time. back at georgetown, i'll have to seek outlets to make sure i don't lose everything i've learned here!! if there's anything that i've learned about myself (or just reaffirmed once again), is that i freaking LOVE SPANISH!!! 

things i definitely won't miss about argentina (no offense buenos aires, still love ya!!)

1) noise. i had a legitimate meltdown one day over the nonstop drilling noise in my building (8-5 for the past five weeks, non-stop). i'm looking forward to falling asleep to the sound of frogs and waking up to nothing but natural sunlight. as much as i ADORE living in a vibrant and fascinating city, i'm definitely a small town girl at heart.

2) the hours. i never managed to settle into the insane hours of the typical porteño lifestyle. i've come to enjoy having dinner late but the whole going-out marathon is definitely not my style. go big or go home. here in argentina the motto is more like "go boring and never go home". no matter how long i were to live here, i know that will never become my thing. my ideal night is a long dinner, hitting a bar/club around 10:30 and going all out until about 2, crashing in bed right after and still waking up midmorning with a full day ahead of me!!

3) argentine salads!! if you can really call an argentine salad a salad in the first place: salad creations usually consisted of lettuce and oil or shaved carrots with boiled egg. i can't wait for my seasonal chopped at pizza antica, my personal creation at sweet green, and dressings other than standard olive oil. (or salt. literally, one time my host brother loaded his plate with plain lettuce and then literally dumped half the salt jar on top and added nothing else. almost vommed.)

4) LAME DANCING. perhaps the biggest shock and disappointment when i arrived here in argentina was finding out that people DO NOT DANCE. period. i had been envisioning all-night dance parties to awesome reggaeton and salsa music, similar to the nightlife life i lived over in ecuador, just in bigger and louder clubs. here, there ain't much of that latin flava i love so much. instead, argentines stick with the general beer bobbing and slow swaying. i've been made fun of on multiple ocassions by argentines who don't understand my dancing philosophy of "bust out and shake it".

5) feeling bad about loving sleep. argentines don't sleep, don't nap, and don't really seem to get tired either. my host family constantly commented upon my sleeping habits and made me feel kinda guilty about snoozing later than usual. sorry i love my pillow!!

a message to my fellow UBA comrades:

what unforgettable memories i have of our past semester together, spent in solidarity and in struggle. such beautiful times we have shared. 

for five glorious weeks, i watched your heroic and historic fight against the government forces that have silenced we students for decades and decades. while enjoying my basil-topped pizza at la continental, i beamed with pride watching you on the television, gallantly storming the minister of education's offices and taking on oppressive police forces once and for all. those long wooden poles you carried to whack them?? ingenious!!! i laughed helplessly watching the police lamely respond with a gentle hose. non-violent measures?? HOW SILLY!!!!  hopefully all that cold water woke them up from the brainwashed institution world they have been representing and dreaming in. comrades, what courage you demonstrated!!! after weeks of waiting and assembling, it was time to up the ante!! i applaud you. students like you set such an inspiring example for the younger generation of students here in buenos aires. i dream of the day when even kindergarten kids stand up for themselves. i can just imagine the beauty of their struggle: protesting the lack of adequate straws for their juice boxes, they cut the lights to the kiddy classroom, mask themselves in PERFECT piquetero fashion, and take their tyrannical teachers hostage until snack time meets their expectations!! i can totally see it!!! can't you?? gives me the chills!! 

in late october, after we had finally triumphed in our five-week fight, i remember begrudgingly returning back to my studies. what a bore to be in the classroom, when i could be out in the streets fighting for a better one instead!!! after countless weeks of fighting for education by inhibiting all forms of education, i had sure forgotten the sensation of exercising my brain for once, not my whiny voice like i usually do!! i LONGED for those beautiful days of our student struggle. memories of the takeovers flooded me: barricading the doors of the social sciences building, marching to la plaza de mayo and burning effigies of mauricio macri along the way (such a hoot!!), sipping mate in the streets with my favorite comrades and discussing the student revolution upon us, standing in avenida corrientes face to face with angry bus drivers and hearing roaring drumbeats from the comrades at my side. WHAT MEMORIES!! i desperately missed the glorious times of the tomas. 

in the thick of such torturous nostalgia, the che in me started getting REALLY antsy. so, instead of paying attention to my anthropology lecture, i admired the exquisitely painted posters around the classroom and looked for inspiration in the passionately graffiti-covered desk in which i was seated. with each passing moment, i started to worry that maybe we had run out of things to fight for. could that be possible?? i started getting quite stressed about this possibility and wondered how i would ever be able to continue calling myself an UBA student if i didn't have a student cause to keep me going. the mere prospect made me break a sweat. 

but no need to fret, i have found us the perfect new cause!! this undertaking might not be a glamorous one, but we must organize nonetheless. hear me and join me.....

during my ten minute break between lectures, i had the epiphany. after grabbing some cheap medialunas and coffee at the new student-run café (well done, comrades!!), i headed to the bathroom and found that, even after six weeks of no classes, there was not a scrap of toilet paper in sight. i was hardly in shock. this is completely customary at the various UBA buildings and we have become so habituated to this abuse that it has ceased to even appear as such. but no toilet paper in the bathrooms?? how can the government deny us the right to pee in peace?? simply unjust, simply unjust.

i refused to let the establishment one up me and my booty yet again and, as such, had to take some extreme measures. the saddest part of the whole thing however was that, in order to defend my right to pee in peace, i was forced to compromise the solidarity with my fellow comrades that so defines me!! here is what i had to do: i  headed back into the hallway instead of using the bathroom, on a mission for some paper. unfortunately, the student café had no extra paper towels laying around and no one seemed to be carrying tissues either. in that moment of desperation, i hit rock bottom. a fellow comrade approached me with a colorful leaflet and shared a few goosebump-giving words with me about his party's activism agenda for the next months. i listened, enraptured, as he expounded on the virtues of the collective fight (totally agree), then i flipped through the pamphlets he was distributing. very moving.

that's when it hit me. in my hands was a nicely-sized piece of newspaper, a more or less adequate alternative for toilet paper. the ethical struggle just about killed me however. dirty (literally) the poignant words of my peers in the effort to keep myself clean?? after several moments of torturous oscillation, i finally succumbed and headed to the bathroom once again, newspaper leaflet and all.  i felt ashamed on one level, having betrayed the beauty of the student struggle for the first time in my life, but on another, excited about what this moment represented: an opportunity to rally together under a unified cause and fight against the powers that be. between september and october, we fought six long and hard weeks, eventually obtaining 20 million pesos from the government to improve our classrooms. doing the math, each day of struggle eventually amounted to almost 500,000 pesos in committed funding by the government. can you imagine if we were to fight one more day?? how many kilos of toilet paper that could buy?? all our bathroom battles will be solved forever and ever!!

here is my proposal: on the last official day of classes next week, we clear out the student center where all reading materials and course readings are located, taking every last sheet of paper to the hostile and unhygienic bathrooms around the corner. there, we storm the stalls and utterly stuff each toilet with computer paper until every last one is helplessly blocked with the words of great thinkers and intellectuals. those reading packets are already free ANYWAY!! what else do we have to lose?? students will be unprepared for class (perfect!!) and janitors, after the tedious job of pulling so much paper out of the toilets, will want nothing else but to join us in the fight!!! brilliant, no??

our resistance cannot die down now. there are still pressing issues that we must attend to. once again, we need to resist the oppressive powers that deny us our rights, particularly our right to pee. don't back down!! just like the last one, we can win this one!! join me in the collective fight, in the battle for the baños!!!


until victory, always!!
your comrade,
sarah

guest post from molly!!! the doggs do buenos aires!!

HOLA CHICAS Y CHICOS!!!!!

beara was kind enough to let me do a GUEST BLOG POST in honor of my very first trip to SOUTH AMERICA!!! So here we go, the Bear, the Mollster, and BUENOS AIRES!!!

i think everyone—mom, dad, sarah, my roommates, etc—were a little concerned about how i would fare here. the day before i left, sarah sent me this text message:

“dogg, i am going to be there by 7:15 tomorrow at the airport! IF I AM LATE, it is probably because there are protests blocking off the highway. but i WILL GET THERE! wait for me by the McDonalds, and if you get lost, do this: start clapping your hands, and then people around you will start clapping their hands, and they’ll lift you onto their shoulders and then i will hear the clapping and find you!”

needless to say… this did not boost my confidence at all. shockingly though, after a eight hour flight from miami during which i think i permanently cricked my neck, i managed to make it all the way through customs (i didn’t even mess up and have to go back in line because i didn’t pay my entrance fee first like sarah did hahaha), found my bag, and knew enough spanish to know that salida meant exit… through the glass doors i went and there was THE BEARA!!!!

i got a very argentine welcome as we left the airport… lo and behold, my very first protest was taking place right outside the terminal. i’d see two more that day (one of which was for the Banker’s Union, which i found hilarious), and at least a half dozen more over the course of the trip. lesson learned: argentines reallyyyy like to complain. and in a public way haha.

we made it into Buenos Aires with no problems, and the first person to meet was ABU!!!! freaking tiny but so gosh darn adorable… she doesn’t know much english BUT she WAS able to tell me that sarah is “craazzyyy”. guess the bear is nuts on all continents. i also got to try mate for the first time. if you’ve read sarah’s post on it, you could see how i’d be a little hesitant to give it a whirl but it is actually REALLY good! and very healthful tasting. i think abu was impressed with how quickly i took to it haha. and bear’s host mom patricia made the MOST delicious welcome cake with strawberries and dulce de leche… so good and exactly what the doctor ordered after 20 hours of travel! 

next stop was one of beara’s favorite cafes… i attempted to order in spanish (fail) and kept saying “thank you” whenever the waiter brought us anything. at one point he put down my water and said “thank you” back. so embarrassing. bear next took me around some of the main drags to introduce me to BA. it is muucchhh different than i had been expecting… it’s busy and loud and bright and a lot like my own favorite city, the Big Apple. of course there, you have to move with a purpose or risk getting knocked off the sidewalk, and here, everyone moves muchhhh slower, more at a stroll. but there’s theatres and cafes and street side magazine stands, so i felt more at ease than i had thought i would! it also helped that there are preshy labs and golden retrievers EVERYWHERE in this city!!!

when we got home i successfully took my first real nap in yearsss… the jetlag definitely took over.  beara woke me up in time for “merienda”, which is basically a coffee break… between 5-7 pm. the american in me reallyyy wanted a cocktail, but i went the argentine route and got a café au lait. or café con leche (still the only thing i can successfully order in spanish). we went to dinner next and i was introduced to my first “lomo”—argentine steak!! I’ve never been a fan of red meat but even i could tell that they really know how to cook it down here. sarah, the steak aficionado, seems to agree as i watched her demolish three steaks over the course of my five day trip!

next was an argentine folk music show at a restaurant, where i learned two new words: clerico (sangria!!) and cerveza (beer!!). the entertainment was great but the best part of the night was when beara got AGGRESSIVE in true mb fashion with the waitress IN SPANISH! she told her we would NOT be spending an additional 30 pesos in addition to the cost of our ticket because no one had informed us of this requirement beforehand. and lo and behold, we were given the bill with only TWO beers on it, instead of the “required” four. BOOM HEAD SHOT GO BEAR.

the next day (after quiteee a bit of sleeping in), we gave our presents to abu, iñaki, and mel (sarah’s host siblings). they loveddd the giradelli chocolate (mel has actually been to giradelli square in sf!) and abu especially loved the book on california. next we trekked to the center of town, where the presidential house (also known as the “pink house” for its bright pink color at night!) is located. i got a brief intro to the Kirchners, the beloved leaders of argentina. mrs. kirchner is now president and mourning the death of her husband, also a former president of argentina. talk about a power couple (although he is quite homely lol). sarah (who according to her host mom patricia is “very political") insisted we stay and watch the abuelas march around the circle in front of the pink house. each thursday at 3:30, these old women march around the circle in a quiet protest and remembrance of family members that were “disappeared” during the military dictatorship. while we were waiting for it to start i got to see just how good bear’s gotten at spanish; she chatted up several different onlookers and had absolutely no trouble understanding them and carrying on conversations (while i looked like quite the turista as i just stood there speechlessly hahaha).

after the abuelas we visited san martín’s tomb (for those not in the know—like i was before this trip—he liberated argentina, chile, and peru from spanish rule!) and took a thanksgiving siesta before dinner. bear took me to a great restaurant (called “king of wine”). the waiters loved us, although the farther we got into our bottle of cabernet i’m not so sure if the soccer game watching patrons were too thrilled with our loud laughter. oh well. after dinner, bear’s friends paige and hannah joined us for drinks at a great bar that reminded me a lot of my faves in NYC. except the price of TWO drinks was about half the price of ONE in New york… love this place. i got to hear lots of their stories from their time here… a lot of which were quiteee farkle-ish haha.

on friday, we strolled to recoleta, one of the nicest areas in BA (and right up my ally). the buildings are GORGEOUS there and the shops are quite luxe, a lot like 5^th in NYC. next was lunch at one of her and her friends’ fave places; apparently they are pretty much known there as the ravioli kids because they all order the same pumpkin ravioli every week! i don’t really blame them: it is INSANELY good and i’m usually not a huge pasta fan. definitely a winner.

awkwardly trying to take a picture with the stage at teatro colón!! our
back row, highest level seats were kinda cramped though!! 

i got to see the study abroad offices next while bear had literature tutoring… then our daily café con leche break and then teatro colon for the symphony!! i had said to bear beforehand that it was a good thing that it wasn’t an opera because i’d have no idea what was going on, and then after three gorgeous instrumental pieces… they whip out some opera. wonderful. needless to say i had nooo idea what the songs were about, even with some of sarah’s translating. but the theatre was stunning, one of the biggest in the world, and i finally saw some actually attractive argentine men in the crowd (up until that point i’d been confused as to why they have any sort of good reputation at all… most are nothing to look at and if i heard one more “linda” i was going to lose it on the closest one near me!!!).

dogg tries her first real empanadas!! one chicken, one corn!!

after the show we met up with sarah’s friends will and brendan for dinner at los cuartitos, which is right around the corner from sarah’s apartment but she’s never been despite will’s rave reviews. the place is HUGE, with amazing pizzas and incredible empanadas. the waiters are hysterical too, they got a kick out of how loud we were and the fact that i had noooo idea what was going on given the language barrier. we got a lot of looks when i knocked over a chair on our way out (thank youuuu half bottle of white wine) but i think they liked us… we saw our waiter outside the restaurant the next night and he seemed pretty excited to see us, so that’s a good sign haha.

next was an argentine favorite: CROBAR. for those that haven’t traveled to the BA, let me get you up to speed on the hours. first of all, argentines don’t really eat breakfast. according to sarah, they drink coffee and sip mate all day until lunch which is usually around 2. coffee break is between 5 and 7, and dinner isn’t until 9 AT THE VERY EARLIEST. the first night i was here we were very UN-argentine and went to dinner at 830… while most people were still sipping on café con leche and medialunas (which are mini croissants). most people don’t eat until around 11 pm!! in fact, when we went out after the opera, there were kids in the restaurant eating dinner. at MIDNIGHT!!!! one kid WAS ASLEEP AT THE TABLE! which was actually hilarious but really?!? no one goes out until 1 am, also at the earliest, and clubs and bars are open until 7. people get breakfast afterwards and then sleep until 2 or 3 (on the weekends anyway). all in all, this timetable is veryyy different from what i’m used to (remember the molly that went to bed at 9 every night?!! she’d last three minutes in BA haha).

anyways, back to crobar. we had to wait until 1 to go, otherwise we would be pulling a huge faux pas. the club is located kind of out of the way, but upon walking in i could tell it would definitely be worth it. it is a hugeee space, with like, five bars (so much nicer than tombs where it takes half an hour to get a freaking drink!!!) and they had a live 80s cover band playing when we walked in. yes, you read that right: an 80s cover band. in argentina. love it.

unfortunately i quickly found that argentines don’t understand how to make my favorite drink: vodka soda with a splash of OJ. sarah tried but they just didn’t get the concept lol. soooo we settled on beer. after busting out some ACDC and queen, the lead singer announced that they’d like all the girls in the audience to sing along with the next song: hot and cold by katy perry. OBVI bear and i were ALL over THAT. we took over the mic they brought out onto the dance floor and jammed with the guitarist for the song. priceless.

on saturday we spent most of the day wandering again through recoleta, through one of the many BA markets and the city cemetery, where we saw the grave of evita (still not entirely sure what she did but bear insists she is very important in argentine history lol). during our pizza lunch some sort of fight broke out that pulled sarah away from our table (out of nosiness, not involvement haha), which left ME to attempt to order for us. i’m pretty sure i pronounced the word for “basil” completely wrong, but the pizza arrived correctly. so fracaso (failure) avoided!

that night we went to another argentine destination, fuerza bruta, which is… a show i suppose. probably one of the most bizarre experiences of my life… can’t really explain what happens, but at the end the entire audience gets soaked by these huge showers and it turns into a dance party/rave. hilarious, but a total acid trip. bear did have a good idea though… someone needs to open a club where every night ends with a simulated rain fall throughout the club! JayZ, get on that!!!

more of sarah's photos of molly's food. dogg likes her dulce!!
oh, and nice boob dogg. 

after the show (we emerged dry, sarah had already seen it so she knew how to avoid the showers haha) we met up with thomas to go to one of their favorite bars in san telmo. they had the MOST amazing dulce de leche crepes … i definitely want to try to bring the dulce trend back to the US it is so gooddd. and the whole time the bar was playing vintage music videos that half the place actually watched! they were pretty amazing though… who knew that MJ and britney spears performed together?!? before they both became train wrecks that is lol.

and today is my very last day in south america. most of it was spent walking through the market in san telmo, which is HUGE. it goes for blocks and blocks and blocks! we also attempted a trip to boca that was a hugeeee fracaso. the spaghetti we ordered was cooked in SOY SAUCE (?!?!) and the sangria was more smoothie than wine. GROSS. and then the most original pick up line to date: “hey, barbies, where are you from?!?” gag meee. as we were leaving (more like running quickly away from the horrendous-ness) sarah and i remembered the quite poignant phrase that was originally shouted by a giants fan after the gents lost to the A’s at the oakland coliseum: “this place is a DUMP!!!!” so true, fellow fan. so true.

tonight we are aiming to go to bed BEFORE 4 or 5 so i can get up and catch my flight back to gtown. so to close this blog post, the top ten things i’ve learned in the BA: 10. you don’t really need to tip here!! well, we always did, but a 10% tip is considered generous!! you can leave 2 pesos on the table and they’re just over the moon about it! it’s wonderful!! and you don’t need to tip cab drivers AT ALL! i think i would’ve saved about 200 if that was the case in NYC!!

9. wine is often cheaper than water. which is good because i probably drink more of the former than the latter (horrible i know, i’m like a camel though i don’t need that much agua!!).

8. you can NOT get change here, and they HATE large bills. coins are basically sacred because it is just so gosh darn hard to get a hold of them!!

7. You really can’t count on this country for anything. and i’m not just saying that, it really is true. on any given day, the bus drivers could be on strike, or the subway conductors, or flight attendants, taxi drivers, anyone!! and when that happens, the whole city can just shut down. sarah was NOT kidding when she said the only reason she’d be late is because people were cutting off highways. it’s TRUE!

6. dogs here are SO well behaved. they all walk in a neat little cluster and LEAP into line whenever they are told. they’re also all adorable. and BIG! i couldn’t believe how many labs and goldens there are, breeds that normally need a lot more space than a crowded city can offer them!

5. they really DON’T hate americans. like, at all. we were approached a bunch of times by people who wanted to chat/practice their english, and then were pleasantly surprised to find that sarah spoke spanish (again, i’d just stand there and pretend i had any sort of clue as to what was going on). and sometimes they like americans a little TOO much… we got some pretty hilarious cat calls and pick up lines. the best being, “beautiful! divine! the two of you!”

4. they do NOT make salads. at all. one “salad” we saw was hard boiled eggs, shaved carrots, salt, and olive oil. ummm what?!?!

3. argentines drink caffeine ALL DAY. which is, as sarah pointed out, why they are so crazy. mate, café con leche, espresso… they just drain it all day long. they also enjoy a rather terrifying sounding drink called “speed” which is akin to american red bull. i guess you kind of have to drink the stuff if you’re going to stay up til 7 am.

2. argentines are quite contradictory in some ways. for example, it is nothing to see a couple completely going at it and sucking each others faces on a bus at like, 2 o clock in the afternoon, but you will NEVER see an argentine dirty dancing in a club. in fact, they don’t really dance at ALL. it’s just a lot of standing and weird fist pumping.

1. sarah is AMAZING at spanish. and at being an argentine in general. she translated every menu, knew the bus system like the back of her hand, bitched out a waitress who tried to pull a fast one, made friends with random people on the street, and would carry on 2 hour long chats with abu and patricia. incredible. anyone who knows me knows how much i struggle with french (in a biggg way haha), but my sister is the exact opposite with spanish. she LOVES it. and the people who speak it, whether they are argentines, hondurans, or ecuadorians. if she didn’t have me to drag around she easily could pass for an argentine. but with miss turista following her around… i kind of blew her cover ;)

xoxoxo love you beara!!!

ferias and a few of my favorite things

my favorite sunday tradition back at home (along with downing giant bowls of crispix and frolicking with bradshaw at the dog park) is biking to the farmer's market in town with my mom (miss you dogg!!). we always mooch off the free samples and i make sure to buy enough chocolate-covered almonds to last me the week. my mom also flirts on my behalf with a half-bearded, half-uruguayan vendor who we refer to as "pasta boy". grand ole times in moraga.

now, argentina doesn't have much in terms of the farmer's markets that i love so much. they don't have much in terms of fresh california-quality produce to begin with (think bananas and maybe the occasional grapefruit), but argentina makes up for it in a special way: artisan markets. nothing can permanently replace my beloved farmer's market, but the street fairs have undoubtedly become one of the highlights of my buenos aires weekends.

albeit a tourist trap, san telmo still ranks high as one of my favorites. not only because san telmo itself wins by far as my all-time favorite neighborhood of buenos aires, but because, out of all the ferias, san telmo is definitely the most ridiculous. the market stretches for blocks and blocks, starting at plaza de mayo and ending in plaza dorrego (more or less), where you can always top of the afternoon of strolling with some live tango music and dancing. when i arrived here in the winter, i bought my very porteño-esque leather cross-shoulder bag at one of the various leather stalls and have used it literally every day of my life since then.

last weekend, my friend thomas and i hiked out to the outskirts of the city, almost an hour bus ride from where we live for la feria de mataderos. grossly underrated and underhyped, this particular market was a sight for the eyes and provided a nice contrast from the tourist-replete san telmo one. lots of gaucho stuff!! the barrio of mataderos lies on the periphery of the city where there is more land and the las pampas countryside is even closer and the cowboy culture is pretty visibilewe wandered through the packed streets and were even lucky enough to find some FREE SAMPLES!!!!!! i felt right at home!!

 i searched and searched for my soul mate like i have on countless occasions, coming up empty handed yet again. the problem is that i have a very distinct image in my head of EXACTLY what i want: dark wood, simple adornment or extra design, and big enough so i don't have to refill the thing every five seconds. at one stall, i thought that maybe i had finally found my soul mate mate after many long and disappointing months. then thomas pointed out to me that it was DEFINITELY not a gourd, but rather a mortar and pestle duo to grind corn or mash god-knows-what. fail on sarah's part.

after that pathetic misunderstanding, we came across an awesome vendor selling leather journals and address books and ended up buying matching ones with maps of south america on them!!! mine had an extra touch of hot pink for the girliness in me. we both realized long ago that our semester in argentina will NOT our last time in south america, and so we bought the journals for future travel logging, when we are back in the neighborhood once again. since thomas and i are also the best traveling pair of all time, we are planning a tentative graduation trip of adventuring through other parts of south america we weren't able to visit on this south american stint. thus they will definitely come in handy for recording memories and insights!! writing this blog has made my journaling fall by the wayside on a big scale, but oh well. i'll be going back to my favorite daily activity when i return home!! i've loved working on these blog posts, but nothing can possibly beat scribbling away in my leather journal, under the covers of my bed in the middle of the night. miss that. the coolest part of our matching journals was when the craftsman whipped out his burning inscriber thing (engraver?? no idea how one might refer to that) and carved our names right into the leather!! i look forward to writing in the south american journal in the future, i know my latin american adventures won't be ending this december when i head home for break!!

we finished the great afternoon at an old café (1900!!) which had the most amazing looking medialunas ever. but they ran out by the time we got around to ordering some!! bummer. five peso cup of wine instead?? okay. me parece bien. the place had a great old-style argentine vibe that i loved. since we got shafted on the medialunas and there were very few food options in general, we strolled around outside until we found a random little shack selling choripán and chimchurri!!

call me the quilombera

when you commit to an entire weekend in winery land, you can only expect a few sloppy moments here and there. only makes sense. however, the funny thing about my weekend in argentina's vineyard region was that i was a walking disaster not on drunk legs but on sober ones. and the longer the legs, the bigger the walking disaster, right?? 

my argentine grandmother, whom we call "abu" (short for abuela), knew i had it coming. as i was scrambling to get my life and belongings together before heading out to mendoza, an tranquil town of malbec and mountains on the border of chile, i explained to her that i needed to stop being such a total quilombo, the argentine slang word for "mess". in agreement, she smiled and renamed me "la quilombera", turning the simple noun for mess into a noun for a person-mess, i.e. ME. 

on the bus to mendoza when i was telling my friend thomas about the new nickname abu had coined for me, he pointed out that this is the all-time perfect spanish nickname for me, not just because it aptly describes my tasmanian-devil style but because it LITERALLY contains my english nickname within it. for those that don't speak spanish, quilombera is pronounced key-lomb-BEARA!! can you say destiny?? whereas my ecuadorian friends sometimes call me "osa", directly taking the spanish word for bear and adding a feminine ending (how nice of them), the argentine version suits me even better. the fact that my own nickname is embedded within the argentine word for mess proves that 1) argentina and i are meant to be and 2) being a mess really is part of my nature and i might as well accept it once and for all. during our three incredible days in mendoza, the quilombera and her friends were in FULL FORM, i think i might have rubbed off on them.

we arrived in mendoza mid-day on friday, greeted by the best weather ever and stunning snow-capped andean mountains in the distance. after checking into the hotel and gobbling down milanesa lunches in fifteen minutes flat, we jumped into a horseback-riding excursion at the last minute and caught the van that would take us up to the pre-cordillera, the smaller mountain range that precedes the main attraction, the andes. the little hillside ranch, in the middle of nowhere, featured a huge pen of goats (who kept biting my sneakers, i was not feeling that) and the cutest puppies ever. also, the mini ranch featured the hottest gaucho of all time. it was quite a pleasant scene.

do you wanna DANCE?!?! 

we were assigned our horses and the gaucho wranglers helped us up into the saddles. the second i placed my left foot into the stirrup and went to swing my right leg over the top, my jeans completely ripped, clean slice right on the inside of my thigh and under my butt. i burst out laughing and stopped, and then when i attempted a second time, the rip only doubled in size. quilombera. i was given the biggest horse out of everyone, and was slightly worried about the upcoming ride when i learned his name: "black soul". didn't bode too well. my friend thomas was given a horse named "clavel", who seemed like a sweetie, but whose name we later found out means "flower of death". how lovely!! the afternoon ride through the mountains was absolutely idyllic, definitely one of the more memorable rides of my life and "black soul" ended up being more of a sweetie than i had been anticipating. "flower of death" had some issues with the whole trotting thing and, after one failed attempt, thomas was given a shrub to use as a makeshift whip, which we nicknamed the "rally rama" (rama = branch).

me and black soul....maybe as good a horse as ALLLVIN 

one of the best parts of the two hour ride was our incredible lope through the hillside, definitely the best moment of any horseback ride. i remembered my first lope ever at the alisal ranch, when mom and i took a private lesson and enjoyed a exhilarating lope through a meadow of mustard flowers. this one was almost as amazing. my friend thomas and i got so wrapped up in the moment that we both inadvertently started whooping and hollering "dale, dale, dale!!!!" (which basically means "go") uncontrollably. the gauchos were definitely wondering what breed of crazy americans had hit town.

we enjoyed a relaxing pit stop in the shade for some mate and these salty, rock-hard bread disks that are apparently pretty common in the mendoza dessert region, but were actually pretty disgusting. gaucho hottie was all prepared with his complicated mate setup: along with the thermos of hot water and the wooden mate (the spitting image of the one i've been imagining in my mind that i want to buy), he had this cool sack thing resting on his leg, with one pocket for yerba and another pocket for sugar, a metal spoon in each. quite a lot of pieces for something as simple as mate. we chatted for a little bit with the gauchos and the brazilians who were with us on the excursion (for the LIFE of me i could not understand their spanish!! very portuguese-influenced nasality, i had no clue what they were trying to say) as we passed around the wooden gourd from person to person.

the second hour of the ride was equally awesome. we came across a pack of wild horses, which apparently can get a little bit dangerous, and one of the wranglers who was accompanying us literally had to start galloping on his horse to scare them away from us so there wouldn't be an even worse showdown. the whole thing was wild. he was galloping through the hillside, yelling at them, and even whipped out his lasso at one point. better than a rodeo, this was the real thing and we were all totally entranced watching the scene unfold. i didn't manage to snap any great pictures of the drama, but here's the basic premise.

group of wild horses (there were about fifteen others in the pack as well) in our pathway. 

our descent down from the mountain....me, will, tiffany. such a great view. 

thomas and his rally rama 

we combined our newfound cowboy-ness with some standard mendoza-ness that night at dinner, trying cow's tongue for the first time (thanks to thomas who had the guts to order it!!) and topping off our meals with a bottle of red wine. we sat back and relaxed like true mendocinos for the next three hours, taking our time and sharing many a good laugh, but also getting into some pretty deep conversations about race and discrimination at our respective universities. was that the wine talking?? who knows. in my typical quilombo fashion, my flip flops completely broke during dinner and i was forced to walk home to the hostel completely barefoot, garnering quite a few priceless looks from the locals we passed along the way. oh well. welcome to my life.

saturday was a full day of wonderfulness and wine. after our free hostel breakfast (coffee and medialunas, what else is new?!) we hopped onto a local bus that would take us a few miles outside of mendoza's main city center to the sleepy town of maipú (yes, i know what you're thinking and yes, it is pronounced that way) where many of the family bodegas are located. we rented biked for a couple of bucks and set off for what would be an absolutely idyllic days of quiet cobblestone streets, delicious reds and whites, and free chocolate along the way. for me, there is absolutely no better way to see and explore a new place than by bike, so i was in heaven. (only wishing that my #1 bike companion momma was there with us!!)

after a free glass of wine at the first vineyard (woo!!), we continued onward in our epic bike ride and made a longer pit stop at the famous trapiche winery, where something ridiculous like 10% of the entire country's wine is produced, by far the biggest production and turnover rate of all. we were in the right place for sure. we were absolutely fascinated learning about the winemaking process during our hourlong tour, and our guide ezekial got a huge kick out of us and our endless questions, about everything from the history, to the production, to the best tips for reading wine. we never freaking shut up. but he was a good sport and seemed to appreciate our curiosity, though was definitely wondering what had just landed on his classy winery tour.

olive tree!! 

the trapiche brand follows a very specific methodology that includes a lot of organic processes; for example they use droppings from the grounds' llama to fertilize the grapes and develop the most natural flavor. they also closely follow the moon cycle to know when the water will most effectively travel upwards from the roots into the grapes themselves, and cut them when they are best hydrated like that. to be honest, i know jack squat when it comes to wine but was completely intrigued hearing about the long and complicated process, and the many different factors and actors that contribute to its production. the trapiche powerhouse, which instantly struck me as this glitzy and monopolistic corporation, function a little bit like some american franchises, where individuals can work their own plots of land using trapiche's model and resources, are overseen by bosses from the main production center, and then earn money for their harvests. i also talked with the tour guide a little bit about los trabajadores golondrinas (swallow workers, like the bird) who come to mendoza from bordering countries, almost exclusively from bolivia, for seasonal work in the grape fields. god knows how they are treated and paid, but hopefully well. for me, it's always fascinating to hear about the economic base foreigners (often from countries like bolivia and peru and paraguay) provide for argentina's market and the large, though often unmentioned, workforce they represent in such processes. witness the complicated, interconnected human web that something as insignificant as a glass of red wine might symbolize: a bottle of malbec wine produced in argentina, composed of grapes picked by temporary workers from bolivia, gets imported to the united states and europe. it's not something i would have necessarily thought about before.

digital macro!! 

after our tour of the vineyard, about twice as long thanks to our incessant questioning, we headed inside with the group for an epic tasting that included four different glasses of wine!! a champagne, two reds, and a delicious dessert wine, syrupy and sugary and peach-flavored, just my sweet-tooth style. we were definitely a lot more clueless than our chilean and argentinian and brazilian middle-aged companions, but tried to suppress our chronic quilombo disease and get through the taste testing without pulling something too too ridiculous. we had some good laughs looking for BOODDDYYYY in the wine. such posers.

clever little play on words: bienVenidos means "welcome"
but here they replaced it with bebido, which means drunk!!

we visited a few other places over the course of the day, stopping for a solid asado lunch (meat and red wine = soooo stereotypically argentine) at one of the smaller bodegas and then continuing onwards to two different chocolate/liquor spots. hard alcohol is so not my thing, but i managed to at least try the orange-flavored liqueur that i ordered, while the boys went a little more all out on the taste testing. BRO. thomas bought himself a bottle of the fieriest thing i have ever tasted in my life, a bright green liquor called "the russian death"!! very appropriate!

on the way back, the police started following us and we were flipping out wondering why. they just slowly tailed us for a solid twenty minutes but never pulled us over, we were still kinda freaking out though. later, realized that they were following us to make sure we weren't drunk!! drunk on a bike would not be a good thing, but apparently that is pretty common in mendoza; lots of foreigners rent bikes and by the end of the day they are bombed, riding on the main roads along with cars and trucks. nothing to worry about with us though!! overall a fabulous day that couldn't have been any more perfect....we were so giddy and happy that we decided to bike and sing together some classic tunes like "ain't no mountain high enough". so cheesy and so fun.

thomas, will, tiffany, sarah 

we used self timer to take this awesome vagabond shot!!! great idea will!!

the next day we woke up at 5:30am in order to catch a 7:00 bus that would carry us to the tiny tiny town of uspallata, hardly visited by tourists and precisely the type of place we were looking to spend our last morning in. i had another disaster moment that, as inconvenient for me as it was, provided endless entertainment for the group over the course of the day. when i tried to put my contacts in, they stung a little bit. but naturally, i had forgotten to pack both my contact solution and my glasses, so i asked thomas if i could borrow his solution. but naturally, being me and 5:30 in the morning, i neglected to read that it was exclusively for rubbing and instead dumped a couple of drops straight into my eyeballs. the hostel was lucky i didn't start screaming on the spot. i literally could not keep the lenses in without wanting to die so i ended up just spending the day with nothing in my eyes. this is a girl who is borderline sightless without anything in her eyes. first day of my life since the fourth grade where literally everything i saw was in blur mode. i was completely vampire-looking and my friends got a kick out of it. not just la quilombera, but also la ciega (the blind one). when we arrived in uspallata after the two hour bus ride (perfect for a nap), we strolled along the dirt roads and headed to the starting point of a small hike that would give us an amazing view. uspallata is literally an oasis of green trees and adobe homes plopped randomly in the middle of nowhere, fenced in on every side by stunning pre-cordillera peaks. 

when we got to the top of the first lookout "peak", the four of us each popped a squat and took in the sweeping views, beautiful and dwarfing no matter what direction you turned to. we literally sat in silence for a solid twenty minutes (except for when i had to ask if the little moving things at the bottom of the mountain were dogs or people, i could tell there was life below with my eyes but not what kind of life) and reflected in our own quiet spaces. it was pretty cool to be able to just sit there peacefully with my friends, and not feel the need to fill the moment with pointless words. we continued onward up to the top of the mini mountain where a flag had been planted. highlight of the weekend: singing the georgetown fight song on the mountain with thomas and will. they had made it to the top before me (i was being extra careful because of my blindness) and in the near distance i could hear them singing the fight song. when they got to the hoya saxa call and repeat i understood where they were going with it all, and jumped in to do the saxa response part. so fun!! represent!!

 

epic photo. 

after taking in a few last looks of the incredible mountain range, we headed back into town hoping to find a little lunch, but not expecting that anything would be open on sunday in a quiet place like upsallata. we did encounter one restaurant, that looked greasy and gross, but were too hungry to care much. and then we discovered that this place was a gem: i had the best steak i've had so far in argentina, paying seven bucks total. who would have guessed?! i wanted a photo with my amazing steak, which i found funny because it had come with nothing more than a leaf of lettuce and half a shredded carrot (total argentine fashion), but didn't think that tilting the plate towards the camera would be a bad idea until the steak juice spilled everywhere!! thomas caught my mid-photo reaction. call me the quilombera!!