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!!