sitting in a little internet cafe
on a dark, cold, windy otoño morning in buenos aires
listening to bob dylan
on my last day in this continent
this adventure
this crazy part of my life
how does it feel?
it feels like a million lifetimes.
it feels like i gave up a lot.
it feels like i gained the world.
it feels like my eyes have taken in more than they ever could have known.
it feels like my feet have gone further than they ever expected to go.
it feels like my eyes have cried themselves out.
it feels like a stitch in my side from all the laughter.
it feels like a drop in my stomach and a short intake of breath; as i crossed the andes mountains, as i rode a horse through the patagonian dessert, as i saw the sunset over rio de la plata, as i drank the most delicious wine in mendoza, as i saw the steep hills of la paz lit up at night, as i flew over the amazon in a small airplane, as i swam with river dolphins in the jungle, as i smelled the earth and sky and water.
it feels like that moment when your lips first touch anothers.
it feels like that moment when you say goodbye forever.
it feels like this is the beginning of the end.
or the beginning of another beginning.
bob dylan said it best.
tonight, i get on a plane at 10:30pm. i will fly, fly, fly back to the real (?) world, out of this crazy dream.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Sunday, May 25, 2008
adventure of a lifetime
the perfect end of this trip. i couldnt ask for anything more.
the last few days of la paz were lovely (aside from the hostel situation). a few of us had formed a little group that tried to stay away from the party scene in la paz. the family gordo: amanda, shawn, olaf & i: plus mike, who i am pretty sure can be considered part of the family by now. on saturday night, we all enjoyed a wonderful meal at a dutch restaurant near the witches market in el centro, much to amanda´s delight (she was finally recovered from a bit of food sickness).
later that night, the family gordo, plus mike´s traveling buddy cal, and the rest of room 26 (andrew and evan, our crazy australians roommates and our awesome israeli roommate dori) all decided to go out for a night on the town. it was great to get away from loki, wonderful to walk among the revelers in the streets (the festival was still raging), and a perfect last night for amanda and i.
mongos club turned out to be just what we needed. a mixture of bolivians and hostel kids, and the music was on one of those magical playlists in which every song makes everyone scream and whoop, "ahh this song is amazing!" we sang and danced and sweated the night away. i think the recent accident was definitely on everyones mind still though. most of us sipped at one, maybe two drinks at the most the whole night.
by 4 the bar closed down and we all returned to loki (room 26 of course, our little sanctuary) to talk and laugh for several more hours. we finally all drifted to our beds and slept in a bit the next day. amanda and i had to pack and check out by 1, and catch our little flight to rurrenabaque by 4. after hugs for all our boys (AND we convinced mike to join us in rurre!), us girls got a cab to the airport.
the flight was a quick 2 hours in a tiny plane, pleasant enough for me but an ordeal for amanda (even after a happy pill and me telling funny stories to distract her). we arrived on a grassy runway in the midst of the most gorgeous place i have EVER seen in my entire life. stepping off the plane we felt this hot, humid wind and we were drenched in this delicious jungle smell. exotic birds chirped and called and squawked for miles around. the sky was a shocking blue and the mountains surrounding us were pure jungle. we walked to the small hut that was the airport and found a taxi to town. the town itself was a slice of paradise. small huts and little buildings, all with abundant hammocks and seemingly no windows or doors. dark brown children played in the dusty streets and smiled at us. motorbikes with shoeless women and shirtless men zipped around. tropical plants spilled over garden walls and there were parrots everywhere. at santa ana hostel, we were shown through a large, lush garden to a small room with neat beds and nice big fan. amanda and i quickly shed our cold weather clothes for bathing suit tops, flowy skirts and flip flops. this was vacation.
rurrenabaque is amazing. the people are ten times friendlier than in la paz. life is slow. since amanda and i had a while until the boys (shawn, olaf and mike) arrived by their long 18 hour bus ride, we explored the town. and by explore, i mean deciding to take 3 hour siestas in hammocks, working on on tans, sitting at bamboo cafes sipping caiparinas, reading for hours and drinking milkshakes. so great.
on tuesday, the boys arrived, bringing a new member of the group: jamie. apparantly they met the austalian guy on the bus and all four guys hit it off. within a few hours, we all (minus shawn, he wanted to take a different tour later on) booked a 3 day tour of the pampas with a small guide company. perfect.
olaf and i decided to rent a motor bike for a while. for 25 bolivianos an hour (3 US dollars. ridiculously amazing) we found ourselves zipping all over town, me on the back riding side saddle with my flowy white skirt and snapping amazing photos.
wednesday we packed up all over things and headed to the pampas. our two guides, donato (an old amazing bolivian man) and ronny (this tiny, tough, 20-something bolivian dude who carried, at all times, a huge knife at his side with his name carved in it), loaded our stuff on top of an old jeep and we piled in for the 3 hour ride to the river. joining the five of us loki kids was an australian couple and a canadian paralegal. the eight of us were soon joking around and getting excited for the trip.
at the river, we unloaded the vehicle and reloaded everything into a long, thin, canoe-type boat. we sat on benches two wide and surveyed our surroundings. a natural mud-brown river flowed serenely through a thick, untamable mass of jungle trees. as we started off down the river, we were greeted by an endless succession of alligators, coral monkeys, howler monkeys, caimens, turtles, pink river dolphins, and of course, all the birds: large birds, noisy birds, fast birds and plain old weird birds. ronny kept pointing out the different species and we snapped photos like crazy. it was so unbelievable.
after 3 or 4 hours we arrived at our campsite. it was a small cabin with eight beds and mosquito nets. the other hut on the property was for the preparation of our meals, which we would come to enjoy greatly.
the next two days consisted of activities i never would have dreamed i would someday do. midnight alligator spotting (their eyes glow red), hiking through the pampas looking for anacondas, fishing for pirhanas, getting up close with coral monkeys, feeling the brush of bat wings across your cheek, and swimming with pink river dolphins. the scenery was breathe-taking too. one night, we took our little boat up the river to a small hut that sold cold beverages. we sat on the balcony and watched the sun set over the jungle. amazing.
on friday, we woke up at dawn to watch the sun rise over the pampas. after a bit of pirhana fishing and a subsequent lunch of pirhanas, i swam a bit in the river (yes, i swam in alligator and pirhana infested waters), covered myself in mud one last time (yes, maybe there were times when i ran around in just a bathing suit and covered myself in mud like an amazon woman. it felt great and kept the mosquitos away) and then we packed up. we loaded up the boats, sounded the horn, and set off for rurrenabaque. the last afternoon and evening in rurrenabaque i was pretty tired and actually turned in early. saturday morning we all enjoyed a quick breakfast together before jamie and i had to head to the bus station. because i have to get back to buenos aires by wednesday and jamie had a commitment in la paz on sunday, us two were taking the first mode of transportation of rurre: the 18 hour bus ride, part of which goes over the most dangerous road in the world.
the whole group walked to the bus station to say goodbye to us. man, it was hard to say farewell to these people. amanda, who i traveled with for so many weeks. shawn, my "dad" of the trip. mike, my bitish buddy, always good for a great conversation and some laughs. and olaf, well of course it was hard to say goodbye to that dutch boy. they all stood outside the bus as it pulled away and i just wanted to cry.
and then there was the 18 hour bus ride. well, needless to say i survived. i was so nervous before the bus ride that jamie (being a medical student and all, i trust his advice) showed me a particular pill that would just calm me down a bit on the trip. it certainly did, and i slept a good four hours, right through the death road bit. by 2 in the morning, i was freezing and feeling not so hot. every time i eat road side food... man, any food in bolivia should be avoided. about half the time i have eaten food in bolivia i have had a stomachache or worse. yuck.
but we made it. jamie and i dragged ourselves to a little hostel this morning at 6 and slept on the floor in the lobby until reception opened for the morning. today i am planning on just strolling around, napping, and preparing for my 23 hour bus journey to the border of bolivia, and the many bus trips beyond that. one day down, three to go.
words / concepts of the day:
transportation in bolivia: once again, it never ceases to amaze me. for flights, you can take a tiny single engine plane out of the military airport. a bit sketch, but they actually serve you crackers on board. once you land in rurre, its just a grassy strip. the only bus to rurre, though, is an 18 hour ride, 3 of which go through the death road.
the death road: pretty self explanatory. the most dangerous road in the world, according to some census that i am shamelessly not citing right now. officially known as the north yungas road, it leads from la paz to coroico, and estimates quote 200-300 deaths a year. the road is ridiculously narrow, unpaved, with cliffs hundreds of feet steep on either side. tired bus drivers loom around curves and often collide with oncoming vehicles.
the death ride: if riding in a bus isnt scary enough for you, many people attempt to mountain bike down this 65 kilometer stretch of downhill road. the result: a t-shirt to prove you did it, possibly quite a beating, and possibly death (a girl from england died on the road a few weeks before i arrived). olaf did the death road, and the guy in front of him fell so he fell too.
the last few days of la paz were lovely (aside from the hostel situation). a few of us had formed a little group that tried to stay away from the party scene in la paz. the family gordo: amanda, shawn, olaf & i: plus mike, who i am pretty sure can be considered part of the family by now. on saturday night, we all enjoyed a wonderful meal at a dutch restaurant near the witches market in el centro, much to amanda´s delight (she was finally recovered from a bit of food sickness).
later that night, the family gordo, plus mike´s traveling buddy cal, and the rest of room 26 (andrew and evan, our crazy australians roommates and our awesome israeli roommate dori) all decided to go out for a night on the town. it was great to get away from loki, wonderful to walk among the revelers in the streets (the festival was still raging), and a perfect last night for amanda and i.
mongos club turned out to be just what we needed. a mixture of bolivians and hostel kids, and the music was on one of those magical playlists in which every song makes everyone scream and whoop, "ahh this song is amazing!" we sang and danced and sweated the night away. i think the recent accident was definitely on everyones mind still though. most of us sipped at one, maybe two drinks at the most the whole night.
by 4 the bar closed down and we all returned to loki (room 26 of course, our little sanctuary) to talk and laugh for several more hours. we finally all drifted to our beds and slept in a bit the next day. amanda and i had to pack and check out by 1, and catch our little flight to rurrenabaque by 4. after hugs for all our boys (AND we convinced mike to join us in rurre!), us girls got a cab to the airport.
the flight was a quick 2 hours in a tiny plane, pleasant enough for me but an ordeal for amanda (even after a happy pill and me telling funny stories to distract her). we arrived on a grassy runway in the midst of the most gorgeous place i have EVER seen in my entire life. stepping off the plane we felt this hot, humid wind and we were drenched in this delicious jungle smell. exotic birds chirped and called and squawked for miles around. the sky was a shocking blue and the mountains surrounding us were pure jungle. we walked to the small hut that was the airport and found a taxi to town. the town itself was a slice of paradise. small huts and little buildings, all with abundant hammocks and seemingly no windows or doors. dark brown children played in the dusty streets and smiled at us. motorbikes with shoeless women and shirtless men zipped around. tropical plants spilled over garden walls and there were parrots everywhere. at santa ana hostel, we were shown through a large, lush garden to a small room with neat beds and nice big fan. amanda and i quickly shed our cold weather clothes for bathing suit tops, flowy skirts and flip flops. this was vacation.
rurrenabaque is amazing. the people are ten times friendlier than in la paz. life is slow. since amanda and i had a while until the boys (shawn, olaf and mike) arrived by their long 18 hour bus ride, we explored the town. and by explore, i mean deciding to take 3 hour siestas in hammocks, working on on tans, sitting at bamboo cafes sipping caiparinas, reading for hours and drinking milkshakes. so great.
on tuesday, the boys arrived, bringing a new member of the group: jamie. apparantly they met the austalian guy on the bus and all four guys hit it off. within a few hours, we all (minus shawn, he wanted to take a different tour later on) booked a 3 day tour of the pampas with a small guide company. perfect.
olaf and i decided to rent a motor bike for a while. for 25 bolivianos an hour (3 US dollars. ridiculously amazing) we found ourselves zipping all over town, me on the back riding side saddle with my flowy white skirt and snapping amazing photos.
wednesday we packed up all over things and headed to the pampas. our two guides, donato (an old amazing bolivian man) and ronny (this tiny, tough, 20-something bolivian dude who carried, at all times, a huge knife at his side with his name carved in it), loaded our stuff on top of an old jeep and we piled in for the 3 hour ride to the river. joining the five of us loki kids was an australian couple and a canadian paralegal. the eight of us were soon joking around and getting excited for the trip.
at the river, we unloaded the vehicle and reloaded everything into a long, thin, canoe-type boat. we sat on benches two wide and surveyed our surroundings. a natural mud-brown river flowed serenely through a thick, untamable mass of jungle trees. as we started off down the river, we were greeted by an endless succession of alligators, coral monkeys, howler monkeys, caimens, turtles, pink river dolphins, and of course, all the birds: large birds, noisy birds, fast birds and plain old weird birds. ronny kept pointing out the different species and we snapped photos like crazy. it was so unbelievable.
after 3 or 4 hours we arrived at our campsite. it was a small cabin with eight beds and mosquito nets. the other hut on the property was for the preparation of our meals, which we would come to enjoy greatly.
the next two days consisted of activities i never would have dreamed i would someday do. midnight alligator spotting (their eyes glow red), hiking through the pampas looking for anacondas, fishing for pirhanas, getting up close with coral monkeys, feeling the brush of bat wings across your cheek, and swimming with pink river dolphins. the scenery was breathe-taking too. one night, we took our little boat up the river to a small hut that sold cold beverages. we sat on the balcony and watched the sun set over the jungle. amazing.
on friday, we woke up at dawn to watch the sun rise over the pampas. after a bit of pirhana fishing and a subsequent lunch of pirhanas, i swam a bit in the river (yes, i swam in alligator and pirhana infested waters), covered myself in mud one last time (yes, maybe there were times when i ran around in just a bathing suit and covered myself in mud like an amazon woman. it felt great and kept the mosquitos away) and then we packed up. we loaded up the boats, sounded the horn, and set off for rurrenabaque. the last afternoon and evening in rurrenabaque i was pretty tired and actually turned in early. saturday morning we all enjoyed a quick breakfast together before jamie and i had to head to the bus station. because i have to get back to buenos aires by wednesday and jamie had a commitment in la paz on sunday, us two were taking the first mode of transportation of rurre: the 18 hour bus ride, part of which goes over the most dangerous road in the world.
the whole group walked to the bus station to say goodbye to us. man, it was hard to say farewell to these people. amanda, who i traveled with for so many weeks. shawn, my "dad" of the trip. mike, my bitish buddy, always good for a great conversation and some laughs. and olaf, well of course it was hard to say goodbye to that dutch boy. they all stood outside the bus as it pulled away and i just wanted to cry.
and then there was the 18 hour bus ride. well, needless to say i survived. i was so nervous before the bus ride that jamie (being a medical student and all, i trust his advice) showed me a particular pill that would just calm me down a bit on the trip. it certainly did, and i slept a good four hours, right through the death road bit. by 2 in the morning, i was freezing and feeling not so hot. every time i eat road side food... man, any food in bolivia should be avoided. about half the time i have eaten food in bolivia i have had a stomachache or worse. yuck.
but we made it. jamie and i dragged ourselves to a little hostel this morning at 6 and slept on the floor in the lobby until reception opened for the morning. today i am planning on just strolling around, napping, and preparing for my 23 hour bus journey to the border of bolivia, and the many bus trips beyond that. one day down, three to go.
words / concepts of the day:
transportation in bolivia: once again, it never ceases to amaze me. for flights, you can take a tiny single engine plane out of the military airport. a bit sketch, but they actually serve you crackers on board. once you land in rurre, its just a grassy strip. the only bus to rurre, though, is an 18 hour ride, 3 of which go through the death road.
the death road: pretty self explanatory. the most dangerous road in the world, according to some census that i am shamelessly not citing right now. officially known as the north yungas road, it leads from la paz to coroico, and estimates quote 200-300 deaths a year. the road is ridiculously narrow, unpaved, with cliffs hundreds of feet steep on either side. tired bus drivers loom around curves and often collide with oncoming vehicles.
the death ride: if riding in a bus isnt scary enough for you, many people attempt to mountain bike down this 65 kilometer stretch of downhill road. the result: a t-shirt to prove you did it, possibly quite a beating, and possibly death (a girl from england died on the road a few weeks before i arrived). olaf did the death road, and the guy in front of him fell so he fell too.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
this is bolivia
T.I.B. this is bolivia. thats the phrase invented by amanda and shawn, and it is most commonly used at moments when you are stuck in a crowd, with rusted taxis speeding at you, with old bolivian women screaming for money and pulling on your jacket, no cash at the machines, absolute trash and rotten food littering the gutters, no doctors when accidents happen and no guarantee about anything in the world. this is bolivia, TIB, get used to it.
and yet, i have found this little slice of sheltered life away from the craziness and amazingness that is la paz. it is loki hostel, 160 beds strong, more than enough brits and australians than you will ever want to see, and the craziest nightlife in all of la paz and a temporary home to the family gordo: amanda, shawn, me and the newest member: olaf.
for the last four days, i have wandered the witches market of la paz, brushed my hands over seemingly hundreds of llama sweaters and hand woven bankets, ate countless food on the streets for one boliviano, listened to everything from reggaeton to traditional bolivian music to endless death cab, at the hostel. the family gordo has also spent hours catching each other up on our traveling adventures.
on thursday, the four of us decided to make some more adventurous plans. next stop, the bolivian jungle. how, you ask? well, 3 hours by plane and 18 by bus, there is a small village in centra bolivia called rurrenabaque. from rurre, we can enter mididi national park and see the magnificance of the amazon or the varied wildlife of las pampas. sort of amazing. we booked some flights for sunday. cant wait!
until then, the four of us are enjoying our time in la paz. wandering the streets, going out for food, nights at the hostel bar and just hanging out. loki hostel is definitely the most addicting sort of hostel like i have encountered, but not without some darker drawbacks. one thing that is difficult for me to understand is the dozens of 18 year old british girls, full of perfume, makeup and teased hair, seemingly only in la paz to party. two, the availability of drugs here is out of control. colombia is nothing. if you are into cocaine, just head over to ¨36,¨ the local coke bar. people who end up at 36 will probably find themselves back at the hostel the following afternoon, either tweaking out or ready to pass out for two days. its bad news. evan, one of my roommates, has been in bed for over 2 days because of 36.
third, and saddest truth of all about party hostels. last night, after half the kids in the hostel went to the bar and the other half went to bed, two australian guys stayed up drinking. they were, as the hostel found out later, pretty far gone. one of the poor aussies, in one second that could of gone a thousand different ways, leaned out over the old railing overlooking the courtyard. and in the moment of time, he fell. in less than a heartbeat, his neck was broken and his life was over. the end.
i found out the next morning. it shook me up pretty bad. i didnt know him, but he was one of a dozen fun loving kids i have met on my travels. it could have been any one of us. a freak accident.
tomorrow, the four of us leave for rurrenabaque. today is el gran poder, the biggest festival of the year. even now, i hear the beat of drums and the endless parade on avenida santa cruz. tonight, the people of la paz will fill the streets with dancing and singing. the family gordo will celebrate our last night in la paz, before heading off to the jungle.
words / concepts of the day:
altitude sickness: forgot to explain about this! in high places, the oxygen content is actually lower, making it harder for your body to get that O2 to needed places. for a better explanation, wikipedia it. but, for some odd reason, chewing on, or consuming tea made with coca leaves alleviates the symptoms. the old bolivian women here stuff handfuls of coca leaves in their mouth ike potato chips. sort of hardcore.
rurrenabaque: hard to pronounce. a small city of about 13,000 at the edge of the jungle. its hot, humid and full of hammocks. madidi national park is near by, which covers a huge section of bolivia. inside the park, indiginous peoples such as tacana, the mosete, the tsimane and the ese ejja are still allowed to live in their traditional societies: hunting, gathering and navigating their way down the beni river. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Madidi)
le gran poder: the full name is La Fiesta del Señor Jesús del Gran Poder, and it is a merging of pre-colombian cultural festivals and the catholic faith. the exact reason for the festivities is sort of vague, but http://gosouthamerica.about.com/od/bolartandculture/qt/ElGranPoder.htm does a good job of explaining.
and yet, i have found this little slice of sheltered life away from the craziness and amazingness that is la paz. it is loki hostel, 160 beds strong, more than enough brits and australians than you will ever want to see, and the craziest nightlife in all of la paz and a temporary home to the family gordo: amanda, shawn, me and the newest member: olaf.
for the last four days, i have wandered the witches market of la paz, brushed my hands over seemingly hundreds of llama sweaters and hand woven bankets, ate countless food on the streets for one boliviano, listened to everything from reggaeton to traditional bolivian music to endless death cab, at the hostel. the family gordo has also spent hours catching each other up on our traveling adventures.
on thursday, the four of us decided to make some more adventurous plans. next stop, the bolivian jungle. how, you ask? well, 3 hours by plane and 18 by bus, there is a small village in centra bolivia called rurrenabaque. from rurre, we can enter mididi national park and see the magnificance of the amazon or the varied wildlife of las pampas. sort of amazing. we booked some flights for sunday. cant wait!
until then, the four of us are enjoying our time in la paz. wandering the streets, going out for food, nights at the hostel bar and just hanging out. loki hostel is definitely the most addicting sort of hostel like i have encountered, but not without some darker drawbacks. one thing that is difficult for me to understand is the dozens of 18 year old british girls, full of perfume, makeup and teased hair, seemingly only in la paz to party. two, the availability of drugs here is out of control. colombia is nothing. if you are into cocaine, just head over to ¨36,¨ the local coke bar. people who end up at 36 will probably find themselves back at the hostel the following afternoon, either tweaking out or ready to pass out for two days. its bad news. evan, one of my roommates, has been in bed for over 2 days because of 36.
third, and saddest truth of all about party hostels. last night, after half the kids in the hostel went to the bar and the other half went to bed, two australian guys stayed up drinking. they were, as the hostel found out later, pretty far gone. one of the poor aussies, in one second that could of gone a thousand different ways, leaned out over the old railing overlooking the courtyard. and in the moment of time, he fell. in less than a heartbeat, his neck was broken and his life was over. the end.
i found out the next morning. it shook me up pretty bad. i didnt know him, but he was one of a dozen fun loving kids i have met on my travels. it could have been any one of us. a freak accident.
tomorrow, the four of us leave for rurrenabaque. today is el gran poder, the biggest festival of the year. even now, i hear the beat of drums and the endless parade on avenida santa cruz. tonight, the people of la paz will fill the streets with dancing and singing. the family gordo will celebrate our last night in la paz, before heading off to the jungle.
words / concepts of the day:
altitude sickness: forgot to explain about this! in high places, the oxygen content is actually lower, making it harder for your body to get that O2 to needed places. for a better explanation, wikipedia it. but, for some odd reason, chewing on, or consuming tea made with coca leaves alleviates the symptoms. the old bolivian women here stuff handfuls of coca leaves in their mouth ike potato chips. sort of hardcore.
rurrenabaque: hard to pronounce. a small city of about 13,000 at the edge of the jungle. its hot, humid and full of hammocks. madidi national park is near by, which covers a huge section of bolivia. inside the park, indiginous peoples such as tacana, the mosete, the tsimane and the ese ejja are still allowed to live in their traditional societies: hunting, gathering and navigating their way down the beni river. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Madidi)
le gran poder: the full name is La Fiesta del Señor Jesús del Gran Poder, and it is a merging of pre-colombian cultural festivals and the catholic faith. the exact reason for the festivities is sort of vague, but http://gosouthamerica.about.com/od/bolartandculture/qt/ElGranPoder.htm does a good job of explaining.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
surviving bolivian buses
journey of my life. holy crap.
so, i stayed in salta on sunday night and spent monday exploring. i took a gondola up to a hill outside of town and saw the sights. san lorenzeo, about 11 kilometers by bus, was pretty but everything seemed to be closed on a monday afternoon. i finally just decided to chill at an internet cafe, eat some spaghetti and chill at the hostel (in that order).
after being entertained (and later, harassed and annoyed) by some drunk saltenos at the hostel, i finally got my pack and headed to the bus terminal at midnight. yes i was taking a midnight bus to the border. sounds sketchy. but i had no idea. this was only the beginning!
the bus left at almost 1, with about 4 other brave tourists and two bolivian women. and wow, it was cold. maybe it was the lack of people on the bus to create heat, or the fact that we were heading for more mountainous regions, i dont know. but the temperatures on the bus definitely dipped down to about 40 degrees farenheit. i shivered my way through 7 hours and woke from a snooze to see ice covered windows. i scratched a hole in the ice and noticed that we had arrived at the border!
outside the bus things got confusing. i clumped with the other confused tourists and we managed to get taxis to the border. from there, the 5 of us walked across a bridge with our packs and entered the customs office. i proudly displayed my bolivian visa and health certificate, the ones that had taken me two weeks to get. the officer didnt even look at them! he just stamped my passport and waved me on. gah.
and then, just like like that, i was in bolivia! the 5 of us got cabs to the bus terminal, where a man asked where i wanted to go. i answered, in a daze, la paz. he ushered me to a small office and five minutes later, i was holding a ticket for a bus to la paz. it left in one hour! how lucky.
and thus began my epic adventure on a bolivian bus. i boarded the bus right as it pulled in, determined to not give up my seat (i have been told that this happens). my seat buddy was an old bolivian man who chatted with me the whole way. as the bus filled up, more and more people kept getting on. there were no seats left, but people stood in the aisles. as the bus finally roared to a start, i realized that this was 1. not an argentine andesmar type bus and 2. probably not going to play bingo.
the bus took off at an alarming speed and one old man standing in the aisle next to me fell into my lap. then, as the bus exited the town for the "main road," the whole vehicle began to shake! i wondered what the problem was. but then i realized that the only problem was that 90 percent of bolivia's roads are unpaved, and this was going to be a long, bumpy ride.
for several hours we bounced around. around hour 3 i began to deeply regret the coffee i had at the bus terminal. around hour 4 i felt horribly sick, and by hour 5 we finally stopped. the bus parked on the side of a dirt path in some little village. i walked up and down the street, people staring at me. for a few bolivianos, i bought an empanada and ice cream. then it was back on the bus for me.
for the next few hours we stopped every twenty minutes to let another vehicle pass, to move goats, sheep, cows, alpacas and llamas off the road, and once, we forded a river. yes, that is right. the dirt road that we had been on led straight down into a brown stream. so, without hesitating, our fearless bus "off roaded" it for a half mile next to the stream. and when the driver found a spot that looked shallow, he backed up the bus and sped right through he stream!
other exciting moments that i thought i was going to die: when we took curvy mountain dirt trails and sped around the bends. and when other vehicles approached, we took the outside lane. also, after a while i began to deeply regret the roadside food i had consumed at our stops. i mean, what had ever possessed me to eat a small bag of greasy meat mixed with potatoes... i have no idea. and the bus was freezing again. i shivered and shivered. i finally managed to doze off, only to be startled awake an hour or so later by the fact that i couldnt breathe.
ah. altitude sickness. i woke up and felt like someone was pressing on my chest. i started gasping and gagging really loudly, waking up the other passengers. i almost passed out, which would have been interesting. for about five minutes, i just sweated and gasped until i found a method of breathing. then i felt nauseous. but luckily for me, there were no more stops until la paz! uggg.
around 5 in the morning we stopped. having no idea where i was and too exhausted to move, i stayed on the bus. i woke up half an hour later and realized that everyone had left the bus! i got off the bus, collected my pack which sat outside the bus at this point, and concluded that i must be in la paz. i walked around until i found a taxi. giving the address of the only hostel i knew, my driver took me to loki hostel.
i knocked and knocked on the hostel door in the freezing early morning light. finally, a big man appeared and told me there were no rooms. slam. i walked, dazed, down the street to two more hostels, only to get the same response. finally, i hailed a taxi and just asked that the man take me to any hostel he knew of. at austria hostel, i lucked out! a bed, rather lumpy and cold, was available. yessss.
u slept for 4 hours before getting up and going back to loki to try to book a room. in the main office, i bumped into shawn, my long lost traveling buddy!!! apparently he has been in la paz so long that he decided to get a job here at the hostel. now, we are just waiting for amanda to get back from a tour... and then the triumphant trio will be together again!
so, i stayed in salta on sunday night and spent monday exploring. i took a gondola up to a hill outside of town and saw the sights. san lorenzeo, about 11 kilometers by bus, was pretty but everything seemed to be closed on a monday afternoon. i finally just decided to chill at an internet cafe, eat some spaghetti and chill at the hostel (in that order).
after being entertained (and later, harassed and annoyed) by some drunk saltenos at the hostel, i finally got my pack and headed to the bus terminal at midnight. yes i was taking a midnight bus to the border. sounds sketchy. but i had no idea. this was only the beginning!
the bus left at almost 1, with about 4 other brave tourists and two bolivian women. and wow, it was cold. maybe it was the lack of people on the bus to create heat, or the fact that we were heading for more mountainous regions, i dont know. but the temperatures on the bus definitely dipped down to about 40 degrees farenheit. i shivered my way through 7 hours and woke from a snooze to see ice covered windows. i scratched a hole in the ice and noticed that we had arrived at the border!
outside the bus things got confusing. i clumped with the other confused tourists and we managed to get taxis to the border. from there, the 5 of us walked across a bridge with our packs and entered the customs office. i proudly displayed my bolivian visa and health certificate, the ones that had taken me two weeks to get. the officer didnt even look at them! he just stamped my passport and waved me on. gah.
and then, just like like that, i was in bolivia! the 5 of us got cabs to the bus terminal, where a man asked where i wanted to go. i answered, in a daze, la paz. he ushered me to a small office and five minutes later, i was holding a ticket for a bus to la paz. it left in one hour! how lucky.
and thus began my epic adventure on a bolivian bus. i boarded the bus right as it pulled in, determined to not give up my seat (i have been told that this happens). my seat buddy was an old bolivian man who chatted with me the whole way. as the bus filled up, more and more people kept getting on. there were no seats left, but people stood in the aisles. as the bus finally roared to a start, i realized that this was 1. not an argentine andesmar type bus and 2. probably not going to play bingo.
the bus took off at an alarming speed and one old man standing in the aisle next to me fell into my lap. then, as the bus exited the town for the "main road," the whole vehicle began to shake! i wondered what the problem was. but then i realized that the only problem was that 90 percent of bolivia's roads are unpaved, and this was going to be a long, bumpy ride.
for several hours we bounced around. around hour 3 i began to deeply regret the coffee i had at the bus terminal. around hour 4 i felt horribly sick, and by hour 5 we finally stopped. the bus parked on the side of a dirt path in some little village. i walked up and down the street, people staring at me. for a few bolivianos, i bought an empanada and ice cream. then it was back on the bus for me.
for the next few hours we stopped every twenty minutes to let another vehicle pass, to move goats, sheep, cows, alpacas and llamas off the road, and once, we forded a river. yes, that is right. the dirt road that we had been on led straight down into a brown stream. so, without hesitating, our fearless bus "off roaded" it for a half mile next to the stream. and when the driver found a spot that looked shallow, he backed up the bus and sped right through he stream!
other exciting moments that i thought i was going to die: when we took curvy mountain dirt trails and sped around the bends. and when other vehicles approached, we took the outside lane. also, after a while i began to deeply regret the roadside food i had consumed at our stops. i mean, what had ever possessed me to eat a small bag of greasy meat mixed with potatoes... i have no idea. and the bus was freezing again. i shivered and shivered. i finally managed to doze off, only to be startled awake an hour or so later by the fact that i couldnt breathe.
ah. altitude sickness. i woke up and felt like someone was pressing on my chest. i started gasping and gagging really loudly, waking up the other passengers. i almost passed out, which would have been interesting. for about five minutes, i just sweated and gasped until i found a method of breathing. then i felt nauseous. but luckily for me, there were no more stops until la paz! uggg.
around 5 in the morning we stopped. having no idea where i was and too exhausted to move, i stayed on the bus. i woke up half an hour later and realized that everyone had left the bus! i got off the bus, collected my pack which sat outside the bus at this point, and concluded that i must be in la paz. i walked around until i found a taxi. giving the address of the only hostel i knew, my driver took me to loki hostel.
i knocked and knocked on the hostel door in the freezing early morning light. finally, a big man appeared and told me there were no rooms. slam. i walked, dazed, down the street to two more hostels, only to get the same response. finally, i hailed a taxi and just asked that the man take me to any hostel he knew of. at austria hostel, i lucked out! a bed, rather lumpy and cold, was available. yessss.
u slept for 4 hours before getting up and going back to loki to try to book a room. in the main office, i bumped into shawn, my long lost traveling buddy!!! apparently he has been in la paz so long that he decided to get a job here at the hostel. now, we are just waiting for amanda to get back from a tour... and then the triumphant trio will be together again!
Sunday, May 11, 2008
twenty four hours
ever had one of those days in which you think back and wonder how could all these events have possibly transpired in the last twenty four hours?
twenty four hours ago, i was in my purple parachute pants, sitting in jonas´ room, watching titanic on TV and eating a big bowl of pasta, bored as ever.
and now, i am sitting in a hostel in salta. after a night of partying, no sleep, a crazy taxi ride, long flight, weird remise bus, finding my hostel, exploring a new city, planning a trip to bolivia, almost becoming involved in a peaceful march, chilling with fellow hostel kids and eating a giant steak.
back up. so, last night (somehow that was 24 hours ago). after sitting all day in THE PANTS (yes, the purple parachute pants. get used to them, they are coming to seattle), i talked to a neighbor who got the water to work again (yay! it was broken). hopped in the shower, threw on some makeup and bought beer for the friends coming over. jonas got home, and soon his friend nicolas (from salta apparently!) arrived and miguel showed up. lauren and francisco joined us, and we got ready to go out.
going out meant this sort of club/fiesta situation downtown, near avenida de nueve de julio. it was a chill place, but we were all feeling sleepy. i stayed for a bit, but after lauren and francisco took off, and jonas was feeling tired, i couldn´t pretend to be awake any longer. two nights in a row going out, too much.
back back up! (i forgot to mention. lauren and francisco and i went out the night before to pacha, this amazing three story club out in the boonies near aeroparque). the music? fab. 80´s, pop, and YES there was a mika song. i went nuts. we got home at 5:30).
so, returning to saturday night. we all sort of wimped out and returned home before 4. i crashed, only to wake up at 8 to get a taxi. said bye to jonas, jumped in the cab with a very cranky driver and heading out to my next adventure.
(i also discovered that BA is gorgeous in the early mornings! i have never been outside before ten, unless its coming home from a club in those early hours. interesting.)
got into aeroparque, checked in, ate a final BA medialuna (okay i had three) and hopped on my flight to salta. i listened to my ipod the whole way and got weirdly emotional when listening to minus the bear. i think it reminded me of last summer a lot. seems so long ago. one year. wow, a lot happens in a year.
i arrived at three and wandered around the bare little airport, having no idea how i was going to get to the city, which was 12 kilometers away. i shuffled stupidly outside and this small man oddly ushered me to a large van full of tourists. ¨el centro?¨ he asked. i nodded. next thing i knew i was magically on this bus taking me to the city. sometimes, i just luck out.
i checked into the hostel, locked up my things and set out to explore. salta is AMAZING. its this gorgeous, gorgeous little town that doesn´t seem to be aware of its own beauty. there are unbelievable churches and cathedrals in ever color but white (my favorite is a passionate red iglesia with gold trim). the plaza is wonderful and the park so tranquilo.
when i set off on my wanderings i noticed something weird. silence. no endless honkings of taxis and buses screeching down the street. and cleanliness. no dog poop smeared on every sidewalk and garbage strewn in the gutter. and no huge crowds of people, rushing rushing rushing. actually, there was literally no one around. every shop was closed. silence. it was a sunday afternoon, and the city was taking a big, long siesta. either that or aliens had abducted everyone but myself. i considered both possibilities.
i went to the one internet cafe in town that was open (i know, i checked every place). i went to town on finding buses, taxis, trains or whatever i needed to get to la paz in three days. so far, i have this:
1. andesmar bus. leaves at 12:45am early tuesday morning. to la quiaca, on the border.
2. city taxi. from la quiaca, argentina to the border crossing at villazon, bolivia.
3. expreso del sur. 6:20pm tuesday night. a train that runs from villazon to ocuro, bolivia.
4. ?. still have to find a way from ocuro to la paz. but at ocuro, i am golden. almost there.
after my big planning session i walked outside, surprised to find that the sun had set. the giant, pale rose cathedral next to the internet cafe was now a faint neon pink in my opinion. what was also surprising was that the saltenos had somehow, magically crawled out of the woodwork. there were dozens, if not hundreds of people enjoying the twilight in la plaza. a few boys beat on plastic buckets, creating a beat.
suddenly, it seemed like two little girls had found metal spoons and were joining the beat. a mom handed her overeager toddler a metal pot, and he joined in. an older woman snapped her fingers. two teens pulled out whistles and blew. more people clapped. the people milling about slowly gathered in a circle of sound. a few tiny flags appeared, and one individual thought the occasion worth borrowing an argentine flag from a local restaurant. stomp. clap. bang. beat. stomp clap. bang. beat.
now there were dozens of people. old and young. a protest? i thought, prepared to run, thinking of the dangerous protests in buenos aires. but smiles were on every face. no slogans were shouted. no signs were shook. stomp. clap. bang. beat.
and then there were two hundred people! they stepped into the street. cars politely made way, or joined in the impromptu parade. honking. whistling. the noise was unbelievable! but no anger! and no obvious reason for the parade! i watched as the entire town seemed to come together and celebrate... well i dont know. celebrate being a salteño. they marched around and around the plaza, over and over. a few police came to make sure traffic didnt get in the way of their happiness.
i finally tore myself away and went to a restaurant. i asked the waitress why the people were marching. she smiled and said she didnt know. ¨we always march. we are happy people,¨ she explained.
i think i really like salta. its sort of a magical place.
words / concepts of the day:
remise: a special taxi or van, designated for a specific location. usually you call a taxi company for a remise cab, or the airport has special vans that just go to and from the city center.
aeroparque: the domestic airport in buenos aires. since the country is fairly small, all flights are within two hours. security is lax, the airport overly clean, but really, no one flies within the country. buses are still the cheapest route.
salteños: residents of salta. i like these people.
twenty four hours ago, i was in my purple parachute pants, sitting in jonas´ room, watching titanic on TV and eating a big bowl of pasta, bored as ever.
and now, i am sitting in a hostel in salta. after a night of partying, no sleep, a crazy taxi ride, long flight, weird remise bus, finding my hostel, exploring a new city, planning a trip to bolivia, almost becoming involved in a peaceful march, chilling with fellow hostel kids and eating a giant steak.
back up. so, last night (somehow that was 24 hours ago). after sitting all day in THE PANTS (yes, the purple parachute pants. get used to them, they are coming to seattle), i talked to a neighbor who got the water to work again (yay! it was broken). hopped in the shower, threw on some makeup and bought beer for the friends coming over. jonas got home, and soon his friend nicolas (from salta apparently!) arrived and miguel showed up. lauren and francisco joined us, and we got ready to go out.
going out meant this sort of club/fiesta situation downtown, near avenida de nueve de julio. it was a chill place, but we were all feeling sleepy. i stayed for a bit, but after lauren and francisco took off, and jonas was feeling tired, i couldn´t pretend to be awake any longer. two nights in a row going out, too much.
back back up! (i forgot to mention. lauren and francisco and i went out the night before to pacha, this amazing three story club out in the boonies near aeroparque). the music? fab. 80´s, pop, and YES there was a mika song. i went nuts. we got home at 5:30).
so, returning to saturday night. we all sort of wimped out and returned home before 4. i crashed, only to wake up at 8 to get a taxi. said bye to jonas, jumped in the cab with a very cranky driver and heading out to my next adventure.
(i also discovered that BA is gorgeous in the early mornings! i have never been outside before ten, unless its coming home from a club in those early hours. interesting.)
got into aeroparque, checked in, ate a final BA medialuna (okay i had three) and hopped on my flight to salta. i listened to my ipod the whole way and got weirdly emotional when listening to minus the bear. i think it reminded me of last summer a lot. seems so long ago. one year. wow, a lot happens in a year.
i arrived at three and wandered around the bare little airport, having no idea how i was going to get to the city, which was 12 kilometers away. i shuffled stupidly outside and this small man oddly ushered me to a large van full of tourists. ¨el centro?¨ he asked. i nodded. next thing i knew i was magically on this bus taking me to the city. sometimes, i just luck out.
i checked into the hostel, locked up my things and set out to explore. salta is AMAZING. its this gorgeous, gorgeous little town that doesn´t seem to be aware of its own beauty. there are unbelievable churches and cathedrals in ever color but white (my favorite is a passionate red iglesia with gold trim). the plaza is wonderful and the park so tranquilo.
when i set off on my wanderings i noticed something weird. silence. no endless honkings of taxis and buses screeching down the street. and cleanliness. no dog poop smeared on every sidewalk and garbage strewn in the gutter. and no huge crowds of people, rushing rushing rushing. actually, there was literally no one around. every shop was closed. silence. it was a sunday afternoon, and the city was taking a big, long siesta. either that or aliens had abducted everyone but myself. i considered both possibilities.
i went to the one internet cafe in town that was open (i know, i checked every place). i went to town on finding buses, taxis, trains or whatever i needed to get to la paz in three days. so far, i have this:
1. andesmar bus. leaves at 12:45am early tuesday morning. to la quiaca, on the border.
2. city taxi. from la quiaca, argentina to the border crossing at villazon, bolivia.
3. expreso del sur. 6:20pm tuesday night. a train that runs from villazon to ocuro, bolivia.
4. ?. still have to find a way from ocuro to la paz. but at ocuro, i am golden. almost there.
after my big planning session i walked outside, surprised to find that the sun had set. the giant, pale rose cathedral next to the internet cafe was now a faint neon pink in my opinion. what was also surprising was that the saltenos had somehow, magically crawled out of the woodwork. there were dozens, if not hundreds of people enjoying the twilight in la plaza. a few boys beat on plastic buckets, creating a beat.
suddenly, it seemed like two little girls had found metal spoons and were joining the beat. a mom handed her overeager toddler a metal pot, and he joined in. an older woman snapped her fingers. two teens pulled out whistles and blew. more people clapped. the people milling about slowly gathered in a circle of sound. a few tiny flags appeared, and one individual thought the occasion worth borrowing an argentine flag from a local restaurant. stomp. clap. bang. beat. stomp clap. bang. beat.
now there were dozens of people. old and young. a protest? i thought, prepared to run, thinking of the dangerous protests in buenos aires. but smiles were on every face. no slogans were shouted. no signs were shook. stomp. clap. bang. beat.
and then there were two hundred people! they stepped into the street. cars politely made way, or joined in the impromptu parade. honking. whistling. the noise was unbelievable! but no anger! and no obvious reason for the parade! i watched as the entire town seemed to come together and celebrate... well i dont know. celebrate being a salteño. they marched around and around the plaza, over and over. a few police came to make sure traffic didnt get in the way of their happiness.
i finally tore myself away and went to a restaurant. i asked the waitress why the people were marching. she smiled and said she didnt know. ¨we always march. we are happy people,¨ she explained.
i think i really like salta. its sort of a magical place.
words / concepts of the day:
remise: a special taxi or van, designated for a specific location. usually you call a taxi company for a remise cab, or the airport has special vans that just go to and from the city center.
aeroparque: the domestic airport in buenos aires. since the country is fairly small, all flights are within two hours. security is lax, the airport overly clean, but really, no one flies within the country. buses are still the cheapest route.
salteños: residents of salta. i like these people.
Friday, May 9, 2008
mission completed
i got the freaking bolivian visa! (!!!)
thursday morning i set out to get one hundred US dollars and a couple of little visa-sized photos of myself. shouldn't be hard, right?
wrong. i went to seven ATMs, three banks, and two casas de cambios. i am not even joking. all the ATMs were either a) out of cash for the day; b) didnt accept credit cards or c) just didnt work. the three banks managers i talked to said, "come back tomorrow, maybe we will have US dollars then!" what is this, a second-world country?!?! oh wait, yeah, it is. ha.
on my third casa de cambio, i walked in and immediately saw a sign that said "no hay US dolares." my eyes practically filled up. i had twenty minutes to get to the stupid bolivian consulate with the money and there was no US cash, apparently, in the entire country of argentina.
and then the cambio manager walked up to me. he smiled and asked me what was wrong. i thought for a minute about how much i wanted to go to bolivia. ...and then, i turned to him, flipped my hair, and pouted. i sniffled out some bad spanish, explaining that i needed US money, the bolivian consulate was holding my passport as ransom, and i had no friends here. he tipped his head sympathetically and mumbled something about "maybe we have a little bit of US money somewhere..." next thing i know, i am skipping all the lines and at a cambio counter. a severe looking woman asks to see my passport. i look back to the cambio manager and shrug. "oh its alright, this is mi amiga," he smiles and waves aside the identification concern. i hand over a few hundred pesos. ten minutes later, i am tucking one hundred US dollars into my bag while the cambio manager is attempting to ask me on a date. i smile and say, "no entiendo! no hablo castellano!" and leave. shameless. haha.
i quickly find a photo place and grab a cuatro por cuatro foto set. then i jump on the subway and march over to the bolivian consulate. oh, earlier that morning i had put on my tall lady heels, just to make sure i looked like i meant business. inside the consulate, i now feel powerful. i tower over the bolivianos. i march into miss-wont-give-me-a-visa's office and practically throw my one hundred US dollars and the photos down on her desk. she gestures for me to sit. my heart is beating, i want this visa so bad!
suddenly she smiles and hands me my packet of stuff. my paperwork, my certificate of vaccination and my passport. my passport with a brand new BOLIVIAN VISA in it! "have fun in bolivia," she waves goodbye. suddenly, as i exit the office, all of the bolivianos are smiling at me. i freaking love these people. i love bolivia. ahh.
SO. sunday i am going to salta. my flight is booked for 12:15pm. i arrive around 5:00pm, and will head over to correcaminos hostel. as soon as possible, i will take a bus to la quiaca, and then over the border to bolivia. can't wait!
words /concepts of the day:
second-world country: there is some debate as to what classification argentina really is. buenos aires looks, in some areas, like a first-world european nation. but then there are thousands of cartoneros wandering the streets. and el campo is definitely not first-world. the whole nation doesnt seem third-world either, but financially its almost as unstable. during the cold war, argentina was deemed third world; but by today's human development index it is considered medium to highly developed. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_World)
casa de cambio: an currency exchange business.
salta: in northwestern argentina, a town of 500,000. it is said to be a beautiful place, surrounded by mountains and salt flats. i really want to go on el tren a las nubes!
thursday morning i set out to get one hundred US dollars and a couple of little visa-sized photos of myself. shouldn't be hard, right?
wrong. i went to seven ATMs, three banks, and two casas de cambios. i am not even joking. all the ATMs were either a) out of cash for the day; b) didnt accept credit cards or c) just didnt work. the three banks managers i talked to said, "come back tomorrow, maybe we will have US dollars then!" what is this, a second-world country?!?! oh wait, yeah, it is. ha.
on my third casa de cambio, i walked in and immediately saw a sign that said "no hay US dolares." my eyes practically filled up. i had twenty minutes to get to the stupid bolivian consulate with the money and there was no US cash, apparently, in the entire country of argentina.
and then the cambio manager walked up to me. he smiled and asked me what was wrong. i thought for a minute about how much i wanted to go to bolivia. ...and then, i turned to him, flipped my hair, and pouted. i sniffled out some bad spanish, explaining that i needed US money, the bolivian consulate was holding my passport as ransom, and i had no friends here. he tipped his head sympathetically and mumbled something about "maybe we have a little bit of US money somewhere..." next thing i know, i am skipping all the lines and at a cambio counter. a severe looking woman asks to see my passport. i look back to the cambio manager and shrug. "oh its alright, this is mi amiga," he smiles and waves aside the identification concern. i hand over a few hundred pesos. ten minutes later, i am tucking one hundred US dollars into my bag while the cambio manager is attempting to ask me on a date. i smile and say, "no entiendo! no hablo castellano!" and leave. shameless. haha.
i quickly find a photo place and grab a cuatro por cuatro foto set. then i jump on the subway and march over to the bolivian consulate. oh, earlier that morning i had put on my tall lady heels, just to make sure i looked like i meant business. inside the consulate, i now feel powerful. i tower over the bolivianos. i march into miss-wont-give-me-a-visa's office and practically throw my one hundred US dollars and the photos down on her desk. she gestures for me to sit. my heart is beating, i want this visa so bad!
suddenly she smiles and hands me my packet of stuff. my paperwork, my certificate of vaccination and my passport. my passport with a brand new BOLIVIAN VISA in it! "have fun in bolivia," she waves goodbye. suddenly, as i exit the office, all of the bolivianos are smiling at me. i freaking love these people. i love bolivia. ahh.
SO. sunday i am going to salta. my flight is booked for 12:15pm. i arrive around 5:00pm, and will head over to correcaminos hostel. as soon as possible, i will take a bus to la quiaca, and then over the border to bolivia. can't wait!
words /concepts of the day:
second-world country: there is some debate as to what classification argentina really is. buenos aires looks, in some areas, like a first-world european nation. but then there are thousands of cartoneros wandering the streets. and el campo is definitely not first-world. the whole nation doesnt seem third-world either, but financially its almost as unstable. during the cold war, argentina was deemed third world; but by today's human development index it is considered medium to highly developed. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_World)
casa de cambio: an currency exchange business.
salta: in northwestern argentina, a town of 500,000. it is said to be a beautiful place, surrounded by mountains and salt flats. i really want to go on el tren a las nubes!
Thursday, May 8, 2008
the edge of adventure
the battle over the bolivian visa continues.
after friday's unsucessdul attempt to get a visa, i was more determined than ever to cross the border. on saturday, i hopped on two buses (one went the wrong way, so i had to turn around) to get to 690 huergos avenida. it turns out that heurgos only goes to the 400 block. and then i realized there were TWO huergos streets in town, and i was on the wrong one. i returned home, defeated. try #2.
sunday was the laziest day ever, with jonas still sick and me trying to get over a cold. i devised a plan, though. i would get the required yellow fever vaccination, get a flight to the north of argentina and cross the border on some sketchy bus. perfect.
sunday afternoon i met lauren, the new/old roommate of jonas. she was back from traveling and unpacking her things. and wow, i cannot even begin to express how nice it is to have a 1. american and 2. a girl my age around. just chatting about every day things is hard when culture and language barriers exist.
back to the mission, as i have named it. monday, armed with all the necessary documents and my new friend lauren (she decided to go to northern argentina in a few weeks and needs the vaccination too), i headed over to congreso to get the vaccination shot at the health organization building. after a lot of wandering, we arrived at 3:30. bam. the place closed at 3. attempt #3. failed.
tuesday. lauren and i headed out earlier, and arrived at the building at 2:30. we walked in and found a surprisingly barren courtyard, dusty and with a few scattered "patio-furniture" type chairs. a woman in purple scrubs asked if we needed the shot. lauren and i approached her to ask questions, and she directed me to a small room. assuming that i was going to fill out paperwork, or maybe answer questions about my medical history, i walked in. a guy in scrubs stood next to a counter. he said something to me in spanish and i said, "como?" he smiled and laughed. "relax!" he said in english, which worried me. half a second later i felt a stab in my shoulder. he had stuck me with a needle, without warning. i am 95% sure it was for yellow fever, and %65 sure it was a brand new needle. no guarantees. so, attempt #4, semi successful. and weird.
afterwards, feeling excited about my shot (and my arm growing numb) i headed over to the bolivian consulate. i did the whole routine. sat in the waiting room, looked at the peeling paint on the walls, listened to babies cry and bolivianos talk about paperwork. finally admitted to the office, i spread out all my documents, including the new vaccine certificate. i point to my shoulder and smile. the lady doesnt smile back. she lists off a bunch more things that i need, including a hotel reservation in bolivia and a receipt for a return flight. en serio? i am no longer smiling. attempt #5, no good.
tuesday night. a break from the mission. lauren and i head out to meet up with some of her american friends and one cheery irish guy. the group, which numbers about 10, is loud and already a little drunk by the time we meet with them at a restaurant. the decision is made to go to rumi, a local club. we hop in cabs and head over. the place is a good crowd and fun music. i bond with a colorful portland kid, and we dance crazy next to a drag queen. i realize by about 2 am that the lack of food i had that day, mixed with the vaccination and vast amount of mixed drinks consumed makes me feel, well, horrible. i end up half asleep at the table and lauren has to drag me home. oh well. all in all, a fun night!
back to the mission. wednesday, i wake up late and pretty sick. oh well. bolivia or bust. so i made what i will refer to as "fake reservations" with a hostel in bolivia and LAN airlines. they are real reservations, which i printed out at the local internet cafe (after a fiasco in which the printers didnt work and i had to beg the cashier, in bad spanish, to fix the printer for me or i couldnt go to bolivia. it worked), but i will cancel them as soon as bolivia gives me a visa. so, i had the printed evidence of my "reservations" in bolivia, my passport, a copy of my passport, copies of everything, the vaccine certificate, plenty of pesos to pay the fee and my application. all set. i took the subway to once, the barrio that the consulate is in. i showed up at the consulate and glare at the small bolivian woman who has become my nemesis. she eyes me, and makes me wait half an hour. then i am admitted. i spread out all the documents. i show her the money. she says, without blinking, you need two small photographs and one hundred US dollars. my eyes fill with cranky tears. i have no idea how to say, "you never told me that before!" i can only mutter, "manana. voy a volver manana con las fotos y cien dolares. chau." gah. crap. attempt #6. big. freaking. NADA.
tomorrow. i will return. don't worry bolivia, you're getting me whether you like it or not.
words / concepts of the day:
once: this amazing barrio that i discovered during my many trips to the bolivian consulate. its grungy, lower-class, all street vendors and weird stores selling absolute cheap crap, narrow streets and no rules. you keep your bag super close to your body, watch out for the taxis that speed at pedestrians and buy a churro filled with dulce de leche (US $0.25). so good.
yellow fever: a bad thing. CNN wrote a little piece on it. my favorite part of the article is this: People contract yellow fever from the bite of an infected mosquito. The disease causes fever, muscle pain, headaches, shivering, nausea and vomiting, the World Health Organization says. Most people improve after three or four days, but some enter a second "toxic" phase that causes fever, jaundice and blood in the vomit, the health organization says. About half of the people who enter the second phase of yellow fever die within 10 days. hm. so comforting!
how to get into bolivia: apparently, even after getting the freaking visa, its tricky. if you can get to la quiaca, the border town between argentina and bolivia you are almost there. the town is actually divided down the middle with la quiaca on the argentine side, and villazón being the bolivian half. a slightly sketchy bus will apparently carry you from either side of the town to bigger cities such as sucre, santa cruz and la paz.
after friday's unsucessdul attempt to get a visa, i was more determined than ever to cross the border. on saturday, i hopped on two buses (one went the wrong way, so i had to turn around) to get to 690 huergos avenida. it turns out that heurgos only goes to the 400 block. and then i realized there were TWO huergos streets in town, and i was on the wrong one. i returned home, defeated. try #2.
sunday was the laziest day ever, with jonas still sick and me trying to get over a cold. i devised a plan, though. i would get the required yellow fever vaccination, get a flight to the north of argentina and cross the border on some sketchy bus. perfect.
sunday afternoon i met lauren, the new/old roommate of jonas. she was back from traveling and unpacking her things. and wow, i cannot even begin to express how nice it is to have a 1. american and 2. a girl my age around. just chatting about every day things is hard when culture and language barriers exist.
back to the mission, as i have named it. monday, armed with all the necessary documents and my new friend lauren (she decided to go to northern argentina in a few weeks and needs the vaccination too), i headed over to congreso to get the vaccination shot at the health organization building. after a lot of wandering, we arrived at 3:30. bam. the place closed at 3. attempt #3. failed.
tuesday. lauren and i headed out earlier, and arrived at the building at 2:30. we walked in and found a surprisingly barren courtyard, dusty and with a few scattered "patio-furniture" type chairs. a woman in purple scrubs asked if we needed the shot. lauren and i approached her to ask questions, and she directed me to a small room. assuming that i was going to fill out paperwork, or maybe answer questions about my medical history, i walked in. a guy in scrubs stood next to a counter. he said something to me in spanish and i said, "como?" he smiled and laughed. "relax!" he said in english, which worried me. half a second later i felt a stab in my shoulder. he had stuck me with a needle, without warning. i am 95% sure it was for yellow fever, and %65 sure it was a brand new needle. no guarantees. so, attempt #4, semi successful. and weird.
afterwards, feeling excited about my shot (and my arm growing numb) i headed over to the bolivian consulate. i did the whole routine. sat in the waiting room, looked at the peeling paint on the walls, listened to babies cry and bolivianos talk about paperwork. finally admitted to the office, i spread out all my documents, including the new vaccine certificate. i point to my shoulder and smile. the lady doesnt smile back. she lists off a bunch more things that i need, including a hotel reservation in bolivia and a receipt for a return flight. en serio? i am no longer smiling. attempt #5, no good.
tuesday night. a break from the mission. lauren and i head out to meet up with some of her american friends and one cheery irish guy. the group, which numbers about 10, is loud and already a little drunk by the time we meet with them at a restaurant. the decision is made to go to rumi, a local club. we hop in cabs and head over. the place is a good crowd and fun music. i bond with a colorful portland kid, and we dance crazy next to a drag queen. i realize by about 2 am that the lack of food i had that day, mixed with the vaccination and vast amount of mixed drinks consumed makes me feel, well, horrible. i end up half asleep at the table and lauren has to drag me home. oh well. all in all, a fun night!
back to the mission. wednesday, i wake up late and pretty sick. oh well. bolivia or bust. so i made what i will refer to as "fake reservations" with a hostel in bolivia and LAN airlines. they are real reservations, which i printed out at the local internet cafe (after a fiasco in which the printers didnt work and i had to beg the cashier, in bad spanish, to fix the printer for me or i couldnt go to bolivia. it worked), but i will cancel them as soon as bolivia gives me a visa. so, i had the printed evidence of my "reservations" in bolivia, my passport, a copy of my passport, copies of everything, the vaccine certificate, plenty of pesos to pay the fee and my application. all set. i took the subway to once, the barrio that the consulate is in. i showed up at the consulate and glare at the small bolivian woman who has become my nemesis. she eyes me, and makes me wait half an hour. then i am admitted. i spread out all the documents. i show her the money. she says, without blinking, you need two small photographs and one hundred US dollars. my eyes fill with cranky tears. i have no idea how to say, "you never told me that before!" i can only mutter, "manana. voy a volver manana con las fotos y cien dolares. chau." gah. crap. attempt #6. big. freaking. NADA.
tomorrow. i will return. don't worry bolivia, you're getting me whether you like it or not.
words / concepts of the day:
once: this amazing barrio that i discovered during my many trips to the bolivian consulate. its grungy, lower-class, all street vendors and weird stores selling absolute cheap crap, narrow streets and no rules. you keep your bag super close to your body, watch out for the taxis that speed at pedestrians and buy a churro filled with dulce de leche (US $0.25). so good.
yellow fever: a bad thing. CNN wrote a little piece on it. my favorite part of the article is this: People contract yellow fever from the bite of an infected mosquito. The disease causes fever, muscle pain, headaches, shivering, nausea and vomiting, the World Health Organization says. Most people improve after three or four days, but some enter a second "toxic" phase that causes fever, jaundice and blood in the vomit, the health organization says. About half of the people who enter the second phase of yellow fever die within 10 days. hm. so comforting!
how to get into bolivia: apparently, even after getting the freaking visa, its tricky. if you can get to la quiaca, the border town between argentina and bolivia you are almost there. the town is actually divided down the middle with la quiaca on the argentine side, and villazón being the bolivian half. a slightly sketchy bus will apparently carry you from either side of the town to bigger cities such as sucre, santa cruz and la paz.
Friday, May 2, 2008
a little more time
amanda and shawn wrote to me. they are in bolivia, and want me to come join them ASAP! i am stoked. traveling, making plans, crossing borders, confusing funny crazy situations. i want back in. i am going to bolivia!
amidst a flurry of emails to "mom and dad" as i call them, i realized i needed to get a visa to cross the border into bolivia. determined, i woke up (late again. oh well) and hopped on the subte to the bolivian embassy. arriving downtown near calle florida and corrientes, i went into the intimidating looking building with the little bolivian flags. once in the office, i inquired about visas. the receptionist shook her head and handed me a card. it had the address of the bolivian consulate, which was apparently what i needed.
back on the subte. four stops down, six blocks over, and i was in barrio once. i have never been to this barrio before. its a little rougher, a little less touristy. street vendors try to out-shout each other, selling everything from pinwheels to parachute pants. i navigated the narrow streets and made it to a slightly less impressive looking building with the same little flags. inside, the place seemed to be either under construction or just given up on. ladders lay about, paint was peeling to the point of snowing on my head, dust was everywhere. upstairs, i found about fifty primarily bolivian-looking people milling about. dozens of signs were on the walls next to each door. each sign held some long explanation, in spanish, about the nature of business behind each door. i felt like the individual in this one story who, if he opens the wrong door, a tiger will pounce out and eat him immediately. to make matters worse, everyone seemed to be staring at the gawky white girl attempting to read the signs.
finally, i asked someone where to go. "ciento seis," was the quick reply, and i assumed that meant the door number. i found the right door, sat in a waiting room for a while and was finally called in. a woman took out a piece of paper and wrote down everything i needed to get a visa. yellow fever vaccination. two photocopies of my passport. two photos of myself. one hundred US dollars. eek. and it will take two days, after all this is done.
so, i will not be going to bolivia right away. hopefully by next week. ah i wish i would have gotten on this a while ago. oh well.
nice things about today. riding the subte. getting off the train, you take this tiny, tiny escalator up to the street level. everyone crowds on it, and there is a warm yellow light that illuminates us while we stand. i feel like such a part of humanity. i feel as if we are all being born together, into the world, asking, calmly, adonde vamos?
also. a tiny girl, a baby, with piercing black eyes and little gold earrings. a dark skinned boy, his yarmulke askew, his nose pushed up against the window of a paint store. colors reflect in his eyes. he sings in a high pitched voice.
do you ever, for a moment, stare into empty air with such a concentration that you forget you are not alone - and in that very moment your eyes run across the path of another human being who is staring into empty air in the same manner? and the electricity of such a meeting makes you realize you are not alone. and for a tiny milisecond, you are in love.
words / concepts of the day:
subte: el subterráneo. the subway system in buenos aires. entirely efficient, magnificently clean. the only drawback is that it closes at 10:30pm though.
visas: in south america, border crossing can be a bit tricky. going into brasil or bolivia, they like to charge US citizens something like a reciprocity tax. basically, punishment for what the US charges for brasilians and bolivianos to come to the states. besides a whopping $100 usd for me to get in, i need to vaccinate myself against yellow fever, which sounds like a pretty nasty bug to catch.
yarmulke: the traditional small, round cap that Jewish men and boys wear, especially if they are orthodox. argentina and Judaism, you ask? actually, buenos aires has one of the largest Jewish populations in the world, after to jerusalem and new york city. thousands of Jews fled to argentina during WWII, many of whom had been rejected entry into the US.
amidst a flurry of emails to "mom and dad" as i call them, i realized i needed to get a visa to cross the border into bolivia. determined, i woke up (late again. oh well) and hopped on the subte to the bolivian embassy. arriving downtown near calle florida and corrientes, i went into the intimidating looking building with the little bolivian flags. once in the office, i inquired about visas. the receptionist shook her head and handed me a card. it had the address of the bolivian consulate, which was apparently what i needed.
back on the subte. four stops down, six blocks over, and i was in barrio once. i have never been to this barrio before. its a little rougher, a little less touristy. street vendors try to out-shout each other, selling everything from pinwheels to parachute pants. i navigated the narrow streets and made it to a slightly less impressive looking building with the same little flags. inside, the place seemed to be either under construction or just given up on. ladders lay about, paint was peeling to the point of snowing on my head, dust was everywhere. upstairs, i found about fifty primarily bolivian-looking people milling about. dozens of signs were on the walls next to each door. each sign held some long explanation, in spanish, about the nature of business behind each door. i felt like the individual in this one story who, if he opens the wrong door, a tiger will pounce out and eat him immediately. to make matters worse, everyone seemed to be staring at the gawky white girl attempting to read the signs.
finally, i asked someone where to go. "ciento seis," was the quick reply, and i assumed that meant the door number. i found the right door, sat in a waiting room for a while and was finally called in. a woman took out a piece of paper and wrote down everything i needed to get a visa. yellow fever vaccination. two photocopies of my passport. two photos of myself. one hundred US dollars. eek. and it will take two days, after all this is done.
so, i will not be going to bolivia right away. hopefully by next week. ah i wish i would have gotten on this a while ago. oh well.
nice things about today. riding the subte. getting off the train, you take this tiny, tiny escalator up to the street level. everyone crowds on it, and there is a warm yellow light that illuminates us while we stand. i feel like such a part of humanity. i feel as if we are all being born together, into the world, asking, calmly, adonde vamos?
also. a tiny girl, a baby, with piercing black eyes and little gold earrings. a dark skinned boy, his yarmulke askew, his nose pushed up against the window of a paint store. colors reflect in his eyes. he sings in a high pitched voice.
do you ever, for a moment, stare into empty air with such a concentration that you forget you are not alone - and in that very moment your eyes run across the path of another human being who is staring into empty air in the same manner? and the electricity of such a meeting makes you realize you are not alone. and for a tiny milisecond, you are in love.
words / concepts of the day:
subte: el subterráneo. the subway system in buenos aires. entirely efficient, magnificently clean. the only drawback is that it closes at 10:30pm though.
visas: in south america, border crossing can be a bit tricky. going into brasil or bolivia, they like to charge US citizens something like a reciprocity tax. basically, punishment for what the US charges for brasilians and bolivianos to come to the states. besides a whopping $100 usd for me to get in, i need to vaccinate myself against yellow fever, which sounds like a pretty nasty bug to catch.
yarmulke: the traditional small, round cap that Jewish men and boys wear, especially if they are orthodox. argentina and Judaism, you ask? actually, buenos aires has one of the largest Jewish populations in the world, after to jerusalem and new york city. thousands of Jews fled to argentina during WWII, many of whom had been rejected entry into the US.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
feeling restless
just in case you forgot.
http://picasaweb.google.com/celessa711/thesouthamericandiaries/
photos! updated constantly (when i am sitting around my apartment, especially)! interesting!
no real news. i am sick now. i live off sleeping in late, lots of TV, a few good books (i devour any english book that jonas lends to me), tea time, pasta and skype chats with my friends back home.
i think i am going to the north of argentina, however. soon. very soon. i am getting that restless feeling again. and no wonder! i have been sitting in buenos aires for over two weeks now, with only a visit to MALBA, a few parks and markets, two random clubs and one birthday party to show for it.
but thank goodness i went to a tango show. the two weeks would not have been complete without it. ha.
words / concepts of the day:
medicine in argentina: since coming down with a cold, i have been told a whole slew of wives tales (or maybe, good advice? you decide) that differ than the ones in the north. example: tie a silk scarf around your throat if it hurts. drink a little bottle of gross yogurt stuff every morning to aid digestion. dont take lots of ibuprofeno (advil), but feel free to indulge in asprin. if you feel sick to your stomach, squirting a little bit of this weird stuff in lukewarm water is the best cure. and on and on. it is so strange to me.
cleaning techniques in argentina: mopping is the most confusing thing here to me. in the kitchen, you just dump a bunch of water on the floor and squeegee a giant rubber thing across the floor, directing all the water towards a drain. other things include momentarily running your hands under a bit of cold water (you're lucky if there is soap in public bathrooms) and walking away.
http://picasaweb.google.com/celessa711/thesouthamericandiaries/
photos! updated constantly (when i am sitting around my apartment, especially)! interesting!
no real news. i am sick now. i live off sleeping in late, lots of TV, a few good books (i devour any english book that jonas lends to me), tea time, pasta and skype chats with my friends back home.
i think i am going to the north of argentina, however. soon. very soon. i am getting that restless feeling again. and no wonder! i have been sitting in buenos aires for over two weeks now, with only a visit to MALBA, a few parks and markets, two random clubs and one birthday party to show for it.
but thank goodness i went to a tango show. the two weeks would not have been complete without it. ha.
words / concepts of the day:
medicine in argentina: since coming down with a cold, i have been told a whole slew of wives tales (or maybe, good advice? you decide) that differ than the ones in the north. example: tie a silk scarf around your throat if it hurts. drink a little bottle of gross yogurt stuff every morning to aid digestion. dont take lots of ibuprofeno (advil), but feel free to indulge in asprin. if you feel sick to your stomach, squirting a little bit of this weird stuff in lukewarm water is the best cure. and on and on. it is so strange to me.
cleaning techniques in argentina: mopping is the most confusing thing here to me. in the kitchen, you just dump a bunch of water on the floor and squeegee a giant rubber thing across the floor, directing all the water towards a drain. other things include momentarily running your hands under a bit of cold water (you're lucky if there is soap in public bathrooms) and walking away.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
life in the city
i have determined that i will not die in south america, friendless and broke (and probably fat off empanadas).
well, the money part is going to be okay at this point, at least. ha. i got my debit card in the mail, finally, four weeks after it was sent from seattle. the package it was in contained many, many lovely things. que sopresa! as i opened it at noemi's house, i got so excited that i made her look at everything too. trying to explain in spanish about my house was difficult, ha. "seis chicos en tu casa?" she kept asking with wide eyes. i nodded. "muchos chicos..." she muttered, shaking her head, walking on her tiny legs to the kitchen for some more coca.
even thought i didn't know noemi very well before, i am glad i had the package shipped to her because it gave me an excuse to hang out. at her house, i realized how lonely i really am. i have a few friends here in the city, but its difficult at times. number one, the language barrier. two, they all have work and school. three, getting from here to there is hard and confusing for me, with buses, subways and confusing streets.
yesterday, after visiting the MALBA, i was standing on a street corner, trying to decide if i wanted to go into a cafe or not. i have this great book that jonas lent to me, and i just wanted to sit, sip some cafe, and dive in. while i was standing there, an older guy, maybe 35 or 40, walked up to me and asked me if i needed directions. we got to talking, and i said i wanted to go to the cafe to read. he said, perfect! i was going there myself. then he invited himself to sit with me, and began talking about american authors. if i wasn't so darn lonely for some sort of human interaction (in english, spanish is so exhausting for me, always), i would have been one hundred percent creeped out. but i craved the conversation, so we chilled. after a bit, the waitress hadn't come to our table yet. it was busy, and so the guy asked me if i wanted to take a cafe at his apartment instead. now, don't even worry, there was never a moment's hesitation in my answer. i told him politely, no, i have a rule never to go to a stranger's residence. he nodded, and i felt a little more creeped out. an awkward excuse (i told him i had a boyfriend waiting for me to cook him dinner. not really true) and a chau later, i was on my way home.
after that whole day spent wandering parks, checking out the art at MALBA and getting hit on by creepers, i was really looking forward to saturday night. jonas had secured his friend's huge house in caballito for the birthday party. this house is amazing. double-tall ceilings, mysterious rooms, winding staircase and a huge open main room open to the stars. i dont know what happens when it rains.
well, jonas prepared a pretty kicking dance mix/mash up of music. we arrived a bit before the party started (at midnight) and turned on the beats. after an hour or so, people began arriving. i am so, so shy in groups of spanish-speaking people. i just hate feeling like a special child who doesn't really know how to talk. but hey, i am in the wrong country for this. so i just have to get over it. i gulped a little bit of courage down and attempted to make conversation. a few minutes later, lucci arrived. lucci is an old friend of jonas, and absolutely the craziest party girl ever! haha, she is definitely the ellen of south america. no joke. the goblins will understand that one. anyways, soon, lucci, her friend paz, and i were dancing in the middle of the room, not caring that no one else was partaking of the music. the three of us bonded, and were running around laughing and spilling stuff and etc. in the middle of this, jorge and miguel arrived. haha we all got pretty silly, and a good time was had by all.
so, during my travels, i have determined that certain people i meet are absolutely international versions of my seattle friends. example: lucci, argentine-ellen. amanda, dutch-steph. miguel, argentine-josh. jorge, argentine-nik. shawn, new york-micah dean (ok, not international here). i guess i just miss every one so much that i look for friends who remind me of the seattlites i love.
words / concepts of the day:
MALBA: museo de arte latinoamericano de buenos aires. one of the coolest art museums around. i got to see frida kahlo and marcos lopez, two of my favorites!
buenos aires parks: amazingness. there is a whole section, north or avenida de santa fe, that is full of parks, botanical gardens, zoos and a japenese garden. you can wander for hours and get lost or just forget where you are. also:
the mystery of the cats. amidst the roses, trees and occasional playground are hundreds of cats. yes, cats. steph wallen, you would be horrified. they all live happily, and no one really knows how they all survive on their own, fat and free. i see little piles of kitty kibbles in the parks though, so i imagine that hundreds of happy, crazy, south american cat ladies distribute food for los gatos every night.
well, the money part is going to be okay at this point, at least. ha. i got my debit card in the mail, finally, four weeks after it was sent from seattle. the package it was in contained many, many lovely things. que sopresa! as i opened it at noemi's house, i got so excited that i made her look at everything too. trying to explain in spanish about my house was difficult, ha. "seis chicos en tu casa?" she kept asking with wide eyes. i nodded. "muchos chicos..." she muttered, shaking her head, walking on her tiny legs to the kitchen for some more coca.
even thought i didn't know noemi very well before, i am glad i had the package shipped to her because it gave me an excuse to hang out. at her house, i realized how lonely i really am. i have a few friends here in the city, but its difficult at times. number one, the language barrier. two, they all have work and school. three, getting from here to there is hard and confusing for me, with buses, subways and confusing streets.
yesterday, after visiting the MALBA, i was standing on a street corner, trying to decide if i wanted to go into a cafe or not. i have this great book that jonas lent to me, and i just wanted to sit, sip some cafe, and dive in. while i was standing there, an older guy, maybe 35 or 40, walked up to me and asked me if i needed directions. we got to talking, and i said i wanted to go to the cafe to read. he said, perfect! i was going there myself. then he invited himself to sit with me, and began talking about american authors. if i wasn't so darn lonely for some sort of human interaction (in english, spanish is so exhausting for me, always), i would have been one hundred percent creeped out. but i craved the conversation, so we chilled. after a bit, the waitress hadn't come to our table yet. it was busy, and so the guy asked me if i wanted to take a cafe at his apartment instead. now, don't even worry, there was never a moment's hesitation in my answer. i told him politely, no, i have a rule never to go to a stranger's residence. he nodded, and i felt a little more creeped out. an awkward excuse (i told him i had a boyfriend waiting for me to cook him dinner. not really true) and a chau later, i was on my way home.
after that whole day spent wandering parks, checking out the art at MALBA and getting hit on by creepers, i was really looking forward to saturday night. jonas had secured his friend's huge house in caballito for the birthday party. this house is amazing. double-tall ceilings, mysterious rooms, winding staircase and a huge open main room open to the stars. i dont know what happens when it rains.
well, jonas prepared a pretty kicking dance mix/mash up of music. we arrived a bit before the party started (at midnight) and turned on the beats. after an hour or so, people began arriving. i am so, so shy in groups of spanish-speaking people. i just hate feeling like a special child who doesn't really know how to talk. but hey, i am in the wrong country for this. so i just have to get over it. i gulped a little bit of courage down and attempted to make conversation. a few minutes later, lucci arrived. lucci is an old friend of jonas, and absolutely the craziest party girl ever! haha, she is definitely the ellen of south america. no joke. the goblins will understand that one. anyways, soon, lucci, her friend paz, and i were dancing in the middle of the room, not caring that no one else was partaking of the music. the three of us bonded, and were running around laughing and spilling stuff and etc. in the middle of this, jorge and miguel arrived. haha we all got pretty silly, and a good time was had by all.
so, during my travels, i have determined that certain people i meet are absolutely international versions of my seattle friends. example: lucci, argentine-ellen. amanda, dutch-steph. miguel, argentine-josh. jorge, argentine-nik. shawn, new york-micah dean (ok, not international here). i guess i just miss every one so much that i look for friends who remind me of the seattlites i love.
words / concepts of the day:
MALBA: museo de arte latinoamericano de buenos aires. one of the coolest art museums around. i got to see frida kahlo and marcos lopez, two of my favorites!
buenos aires parks: amazingness. there is a whole section, north or avenida de santa fe, that is full of parks, botanical gardens, zoos and a japenese garden. you can wander for hours and get lost or just forget where you are. also:
the mystery of the cats. amidst the roses, trees and occasional playground are hundreds of cats. yes, cats. steph wallen, you would be horrified. they all live happily, and no one really knows how they all survive on their own, fat and free. i see little piles of kitty kibbles in the parks though, so i imagine that hundreds of happy, crazy, south american cat ladies distribute food for los gatos every night.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
here and its now
in buenos aires. i have no been here for 12 days, and just as i tell everyone who asks me how long i will be here, i have no idea. about anything.
susie and leana were here for a while. they both arrived on friday night, and leana left early on saturday. susie stayed with me for a few days, which was so fun. we didn't do much other than shopping, walking around parks, and going out to cafes for medialunas. but it was great.
one night, we met up with our dutch friend robin (who stayed in our hostel in mendoza). we went out to dinner at an old restaurant. another night we went to cafe tortoni for a tango show. wow, there is something so porteño about wandering up and down avenida de nueve de julio, smiling at the illuminated obelisco, walking to a tango show. it is late, dinner will be later, drinks will be the latest of all. take your time, this is buenos aires.
it is hot again. yesterday was jonas' birthday, and we got to wander las calles with his sister lara and baby lola. lola was awake and mischievious, making these big funny faces at me. i thought about it. what would it be like to be born into this big half latin, half european city, post-2001 crisis, in a neighborhood like palermo, full of tourists that help support the rehabilitating economy? what will it be like for lola to grow up in a culture that is attempting to remain its own thing but is being influenced by so many people from all over the world? i wonder what the future holds for buenos aires, and for the next generation. will these children really know the stories or juan peron, of the dirty war, of the malvinas, of the economic collapse of 2001? or will all these events be a faded memory of the past. many porteños say, it is time to move on. i can't imagine how forgetting the past will help the future.
words / concepts of the day:
porteño: a resident of buenos aires. porteña, if its a girl. or la alma porteña, which people here say is the soul of the city.
avenida de nueve de julio: one of the widest (and porteños say it is the widest) streets in the world. at 19 lanes wide, it is impossible to cross in one light! the whole area around this is congresso, or downtown. tons of theatres, tango shows, hotels and fancy restaurants that all vie for a view of the obelisk (el obelisco).
history of buenos aires: shortest history of the last 50 years, ever. juan peron, president in the 40s/50s. held very radical beliefs. his wife, eva (evita), was raised to near sainthood when she died at age 33, after spending most of the budget on aid for the lower class. the dirty war, happened in the 70s. the military took over the government and began eliminating anyone who stood in its way. thousands of people who disagreed with the politics simply disappeared. the malvinas, are a set of islands off the very southern coast of argentina. in the 80s, to divert the public's attention on events of the 70s, the military declared war on england, who had a controversial claim on the islands. argentina lost, the subject is still touchy. 2001. the economy finally collapsed, in a way that rivals the american economic collapse of the 30s. literally, almost ever person was moved down a whole class level. an entire population of the lower class has been reduced to garbage collectors.
susie and leana were here for a while. they both arrived on friday night, and leana left early on saturday. susie stayed with me for a few days, which was so fun. we didn't do much other than shopping, walking around parks, and going out to cafes for medialunas. but it was great.
one night, we met up with our dutch friend robin (who stayed in our hostel in mendoza). we went out to dinner at an old restaurant. another night we went to cafe tortoni for a tango show. wow, there is something so porteño about wandering up and down avenida de nueve de julio, smiling at the illuminated obelisco, walking to a tango show. it is late, dinner will be later, drinks will be the latest of all. take your time, this is buenos aires.
it is hot again. yesterday was jonas' birthday, and we got to wander las calles with his sister lara and baby lola. lola was awake and mischievious, making these big funny faces at me. i thought about it. what would it be like to be born into this big half latin, half european city, post-2001 crisis, in a neighborhood like palermo, full of tourists that help support the rehabilitating economy? what will it be like for lola to grow up in a culture that is attempting to remain its own thing but is being influenced by so many people from all over the world? i wonder what the future holds for buenos aires, and for the next generation. will these children really know the stories or juan peron, of the dirty war, of the malvinas, of the economic collapse of 2001? or will all these events be a faded memory of the past. many porteños say, it is time to move on. i can't imagine how forgetting the past will help the future.
words / concepts of the day:
porteño: a resident of buenos aires. porteña, if its a girl. or la alma porteña, which people here say is the soul of the city.
avenida de nueve de julio: one of the widest (and porteños say it is the widest) streets in the world. at 19 lanes wide, it is impossible to cross in one light! the whole area around this is congresso, or downtown. tons of theatres, tango shows, hotels and fancy restaurants that all vie for a view of the obelisk (el obelisco).
history of buenos aires: shortest history of the last 50 years, ever. juan peron, president in the 40s/50s. held very radical beliefs. his wife, eva (evita), was raised to near sainthood when she died at age 33, after spending most of the budget on aid for the lower class. the dirty war, happened in the 70s. the military took over the government and began eliminating anyone who stood in its way. thousands of people who disagreed with the politics simply disappeared. the malvinas, are a set of islands off the very southern coast of argentina. in the 80s, to divert the public's attention on events of the 70s, the military declared war on england, who had a controversial claim on the islands. argentina lost, the subject is still touchy. 2001. the economy finally collapsed, in a way that rivals the american economic collapse of the 30s. literally, almost ever person was moved down a whole class level. an entire population of the lower class has been reduced to garbage collectors.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
some of the best
a few of the more memorable moments of this trip. he.
• leana (looking at susie's cleaned plate): wow, you just plowed through that.
• susie: i wasn't sure if we were getting more food or not.
• susie: pampa just keeps stopping to snack.
.....
• jen: how can you not like card games??? you just aren't normal.
• me (running into the room) asia just dropped trou! asia JUST DROPPED TROU!
.....
• leana (confused, to the waiter): perdon, tienes fondue aqui?
waiter: no.
• me: mommy, why do you do laundry so often? i have enough clean socks!(cries)
.....
• shawn: well, you could "hand wash..."
.....
• amanda: well now i feel like a prostitute.
• inca: (very angry and drunk off pisco) you didn't wait for me.
.....
• brasil: BRASIL BRASIL BRASIL!
.....
• front desk man: YOU MUST PAY!
• ben: caution! caution!
.....
• pancho: (ecstatic) thank you amanda and couchsurfing.com!!!
.....
• amanda: i want big ben! i want big ben's body!
...................................
and who can forget this little incident.
poor lamp post. scarred for life.
the end.
• leana (looking at susie's cleaned plate): wow, you just plowed through that.• susie: i wasn't sure if we were getting more food or not.
• susie: pampa just keeps stopping to snack.• jen: how can you not like card games??? you just aren't normal.
• me (running into the room) asia just dropped trou! asia JUST DROPPED TROU!• leana (confused, to the waiter): perdon, tienes fondue aqui?
waiter: no.
• me: mommy, why do you do laundry so often? i have enough clean socks!(cries)• shawn: well, you could "hand wash..."
• amanda: well now i feel like a prostitute.
• inca: (very angry and drunk off pisco) you didn't wait for me.• brasil: BRASIL BRASIL BRASIL!
• front desk man: YOU MUST PAY!
• ben: caution! caution!• pancho: (ecstatic) thank you amanda and couchsurfing.com!!!
• amanda: i want big ben! i want big ben's body!
and who can forget this little incident.
poor lamp post. scarred for life.
the end.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
tuesday nights in argentina
i feel like i am finally settling into this whole living-in-one-place-and-sleeping-in-until-noon-everyday thing. sort of nice, actually.
yesterday, i went to the national museum of natural sciences (museo argentino de ciencias naturales) with jonas for a while. it was fun wandering around the almost empty museum, looking at dead bugs and dinosaur bones. it was a cold, almost rainy afternoon and sort of the perfect activity for such weather. afterwards, we decided coffee was in order so we scooted over to his friend's work, where we were served cafe and some chocolate cake.
back at the apartment, i suggested we make pasta. a few tomatoes and lots of noodles later, dinner was prepared. two of my roommate's friends, miguel and jorge, stopped by to eat and drink. after a few hours of heineken, things got pretty hilarious! justin timberlake was blared from the speakers and my new argentine friends danced around busting out american pop lyrics like nobody's business. so, so great.
around 2 we decided it was time to go out to the club. yes, it was a tuesday night. and yes, the club we went to was a "local" club... meaning all the locals worked there while tourists danced their little hearts out in the middle of the week. the cover was okay but the drink prices were through the roof! the dance floor was pure electronic, which i got into a bit. what kept the night amusing was watching a very, very, very drunk miguel attempt to stay conscious, doing odd things in the process (he grabbed some girl's ponytail at one point, began hardcore dancing later on, and kept collapsing on my shoulder and slurring things in spanish to me). by about 6, we hauled him home on the bus (literally depositing him in front of his home by way of sort of gently pushing him off the bus at the stop). as soon as i got home, i collapsed on my bed and slept ... until noon, once again.
i am too lazy to think of any concepts for the day. sorry, maybe later.
yesterday, i went to the national museum of natural sciences (museo argentino de ciencias naturales) with jonas for a while. it was fun wandering around the almost empty museum, looking at dead bugs and dinosaur bones. it was a cold, almost rainy afternoon and sort of the perfect activity for such weather. afterwards, we decided coffee was in order so we scooted over to his friend's work, where we were served cafe and some chocolate cake.
back at the apartment, i suggested we make pasta. a few tomatoes and lots of noodles later, dinner was prepared. two of my roommate's friends, miguel and jorge, stopped by to eat and drink. after a few hours of heineken, things got pretty hilarious! justin timberlake was blared from the speakers and my new argentine friends danced around busting out american pop lyrics like nobody's business. so, so great.
around 2 we decided it was time to go out to the club. yes, it was a tuesday night. and yes, the club we went to was a "local" club... meaning all the locals worked there while tourists danced their little hearts out in the middle of the week. the cover was okay but the drink prices were through the roof! the dance floor was pure electronic, which i got into a bit. what kept the night amusing was watching a very, very, very drunk miguel attempt to stay conscious, doing odd things in the process (he grabbed some girl's ponytail at one point, began hardcore dancing later on, and kept collapsing on my shoulder and slurring things in spanish to me). by about 6, we hauled him home on the bus (literally depositing him in front of his home by way of sort of gently pushing him off the bus at the stop). as soon as i got home, i collapsed on my bed and slept ... until noon, once again.
i am too lazy to think of any concepts for the day. sorry, maybe later.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
back in buenos aires
tomorrow will be one month since i began my aimless wanderings throughout south america.
and here i am, back in the big city of buenos aires. i arrived on sunday morning, after a fifteen hour bus ride and after a saturday spent recovering from a ridiculous friday night. ah. but friday night is another story. blah.
i took a taxi from the retiro bus terminal to my new apartment in palermo queens. i was greeted by my new roommate, jonas, who showed me around the place. the apartment is all tall ceilings and windows and balconies and birds chirping. seriously! i have never lived somewhere so nice and i have this weird feeling that i am staying in someone else's house. but, as jonas reminds me, its my apartment, too, for the next few weeks.
(i still meticulously fold the hand towels after use.)
this weird shock of a semi-permanent place of residence still lingers. it took me over 24 hours to finally painstakingly unpack my backpack. i always feel like i need to be ready to get on a bus and leave. i forced myself to hang up photos and line my shoes up nicely. oh, and my room i bigger than any room i have ever had, and its all mine! so weird. my own bed, my own desk, my own TV. so funny to me!
besides the odd feeling of being settled, i have explored the neighborhood a tiny bit. yesterday, i walked 4 blocks down avenida thames (where i live) to the main street of corrientes. i wandered for about 2 kilometers before i got tired and turned into a havanna cafe (sort of the starbucks of argentina) for a ridiculously sugary espresso drink and cookies. afterwards, i went grocery shopping at the supermercado, which was sort of the highlight of my day haha.
last night, jonas and i went to one of his friends' houses for a movie night. this guy has a whole room full of chairs, a giant projector and dozens of movies. so great! after watching "i'm not there" and "control" (two movies about the lives of famous musicians), we realized it was 4 in the morning and sleep was needed.
today, i woke up several hours into the afternoon and after almost burning the kitchen down trying to fry an egg on a gas stove, i am contemplating what to do. museums? maybe. parks? possibly. but actually, right now, i am craving a cup of cafe con leche and a couple medialunas and sitting at some cafe for hours reading jd salinger. i guess i am allowed to do that. its vacation.
words / concepts of the day:
aminovio: hmm, forgot to discuss this concept earlier. amanda told me this one haha. basically, aminovio = amigo con beneficios. get it?
supermercado: supermarket of amazing south american food products. in argentina and chile, basically the same products as in the US. just slightly different. for example, tomato paste comes in boxes, yogurt and milk comes in a non-resealable bag (it seems so counter-intuitive!), and the best thing, por salut, this cream cheese sort of thing (but not) that is amazing on crackers or for making cream sauces. i am obsesses with it. i have two containers of it right now.
south american kitchens: looks like american kitchens, but the stoves are gas stoves. which means you have to turn on a switch on the wall, push in the oven gas nob for the apropriate burner, and light a match by the gas until it goes poof! and a flame appears. it is tricky and i always feel like i am going to set myself on fire. also, the water heater in always in the kitchen. everytime you turn on the hot water the thing goes wooosh and a flame appears in the little heater window. so odd.
and here i am, back in the big city of buenos aires. i arrived on sunday morning, after a fifteen hour bus ride and after a saturday spent recovering from a ridiculous friday night. ah. but friday night is another story. blah.
i took a taxi from the retiro bus terminal to my new apartment in palermo queens. i was greeted by my new roommate, jonas, who showed me around the place. the apartment is all tall ceilings and windows and balconies and birds chirping. seriously! i have never lived somewhere so nice and i have this weird feeling that i am staying in someone else's house. but, as jonas reminds me, its my apartment, too, for the next few weeks.
(i still meticulously fold the hand towels after use.)
this weird shock of a semi-permanent place of residence still lingers. it took me over 24 hours to finally painstakingly unpack my backpack. i always feel like i need to be ready to get on a bus and leave. i forced myself to hang up photos and line my shoes up nicely. oh, and my room i bigger than any room i have ever had, and its all mine! so weird. my own bed, my own desk, my own TV. so funny to me!
besides the odd feeling of being settled, i have explored the neighborhood a tiny bit. yesterday, i walked 4 blocks down avenida thames (where i live) to the main street of corrientes. i wandered for about 2 kilometers before i got tired and turned into a havanna cafe (sort of the starbucks of argentina) for a ridiculously sugary espresso drink and cookies. afterwards, i went grocery shopping at the supermercado, which was sort of the highlight of my day haha.
last night, jonas and i went to one of his friends' houses for a movie night. this guy has a whole room full of chairs, a giant projector and dozens of movies. so great! after watching "i'm not there" and "control" (two movies about the lives of famous musicians), we realized it was 4 in the morning and sleep was needed.
today, i woke up several hours into the afternoon and after almost burning the kitchen down trying to fry an egg on a gas stove, i am contemplating what to do. museums? maybe. parks? possibly. but actually, right now, i am craving a cup of cafe con leche and a couple medialunas and sitting at some cafe for hours reading jd salinger. i guess i am allowed to do that. its vacation.
words / concepts of the day:
aminovio: hmm, forgot to discuss this concept earlier. amanda told me this one haha. basically, aminovio = amigo con beneficios. get it?
supermercado: supermarket of amazing south american food products. in argentina and chile, basically the same products as in the US. just slightly different. for example, tomato paste comes in boxes, yogurt and milk comes in a non-resealable bag (it seems so counter-intuitive!), and the best thing, por salut, this cream cheese sort of thing (but not) that is amazing on crackers or for making cream sauces. i am obsesses with it. i have two containers of it right now.
south american kitchens: looks like american kitchens, but the stoves are gas stoves. which means you have to turn on a switch on the wall, push in the oven gas nob for the apropriate burner, and light a match by the gas until it goes poof! and a flame appears. it is tricky and i always feel like i am going to set myself on fire. also, the water heater in always in the kitchen. everytime you turn on the hot water the thing goes wooosh and a flame appears in the little heater window. so odd.
Friday, April 11, 2008
crossing continents
wow. its been one week since i updated my northern hemisphere friends on events happening in my southern hemisphere life.
one week ago, i was partying in santiago with a bottle of pisco and some good friends. after that whirlwind week of museums, italianos, shopping, hostel adventures and couchsurfing situations, i decided to update my scenery. amanda and i bought tickets to cross the border once again.
monday morning, pancho and i raced to the bus station to meet with amanda. she arrived without a moment to spare, and us two girls said our goodbyes to the city. seven hours and a lot of sleep later, we arrived in mendoza, argentina.
mendoza has been perfect. tree-lined streets, quiet cafes, all the cafe con leche and medialunas i could ever want! its definitely argentina again, but not the craziness of bsas and warmer than bariloche. in mendoza, amanda was finally able to meet up again with her special french friend, ben. the three of us spent monday and tuesday eating pasta, roaming the streets and of course... drinking wine!
(oh, by the way, mendoza is the wine capital of argentina. sort of the napa valley of the continent) monday night amanda, ben and i met up with a friend of ben´s, an argentine chef named pablo. we took a late dinner with tapas and plenty of rose wine at a nearby winery. so amazing!
on wednesday, susie, leana, leana´s boyfriend chris, jen and joel arrived in mendoza. it was so fun to be reunited with the whole group again! i had to update everyone on events that transpired in santiago haha. a lot can happen in ten days, for sure. i moved to their hostel on wednesday morning, after a horrible experience in hostelling international - campo base (tiny gross rooms, one bathroom for everyone, rude staff... oh and dont forget getting woken up at 2 in the morning by your bunkmate having sex. out of control) the new place, la damajuana, is this amazing old mansion converted into a youth hostel. the garden is huge and green with a giant swimming pool in the middle! the backyard also leads to a nice kitchen in the old servants quarters. so great.
the next two days basically consisted of all of us, plus amanda and ben, sitting around the pool in our swimsuits soaking up the sun. or, rather, getting extremely burned. oh well. one day, i did nothing except eat fruit, ice cream and beer while sitting in a pink bikini by the pool! haha. what can i say, its vacation.
by friday, we were ready for a little more activity. susie booked us all on an excursion to see some wineries. not just any wine tour, however; a bicycle powered, 12 kilometer, 6 winery journey! a van came and picked us up, as well as about a dozen other hostel kids, and drove us to the bike rental place out in the country. we got a map and set out. the first stop was a huge old winery museum. we browsed the old barrels and vineyard equipment while sipping merlot. pretty amazing!
a few hours later, several wineries, many glasses of wine, a few chocolates and a random shot of absinthe later, our group was wobbling home on our bikes. we all went back to our respective hostels to rest and relax. susie, leana and chris also had to pack up. they had decided to head to cordoba for a few days before returning to bsas.
speaking of bsas. i found an apartment! months and months ago, i thought i had found a roommate in bsas, in palermo queens. but the whole situation unfortunately did not work out. i kept in touch with the guy, and he randomly emailed me a few days ago asking if i still needed a room. and i do.
so, tomorrow night i return to buenos aires. i have a solid place to stay at least until the end of april. my debit card is in the mail, my phone may be able to get fixed and life might be slightly predictable for a while. or maybe not. ha.
one week ago, i was partying in santiago with a bottle of pisco and some good friends. after that whirlwind week of museums, italianos, shopping, hostel adventures and couchsurfing situations, i decided to update my scenery. amanda and i bought tickets to cross the border once again.
monday morning, pancho and i raced to the bus station to meet with amanda. she arrived without a moment to spare, and us two girls said our goodbyes to the city. seven hours and a lot of sleep later, we arrived in mendoza, argentina.
mendoza has been perfect. tree-lined streets, quiet cafes, all the cafe con leche and medialunas i could ever want! its definitely argentina again, but not the craziness of bsas and warmer than bariloche. in mendoza, amanda was finally able to meet up again with her special french friend, ben. the three of us spent monday and tuesday eating pasta, roaming the streets and of course... drinking wine!
(oh, by the way, mendoza is the wine capital of argentina. sort of the napa valley of the continent) monday night amanda, ben and i met up with a friend of ben´s, an argentine chef named pablo. we took a late dinner with tapas and plenty of rose wine at a nearby winery. so amazing!
on wednesday, susie, leana, leana´s boyfriend chris, jen and joel arrived in mendoza. it was so fun to be reunited with the whole group again! i had to update everyone on events that transpired in santiago haha. a lot can happen in ten days, for sure. i moved to their hostel on wednesday morning, after a horrible experience in hostelling international - campo base (tiny gross rooms, one bathroom for everyone, rude staff... oh and dont forget getting woken up at 2 in the morning by your bunkmate having sex. out of control) the new place, la damajuana, is this amazing old mansion converted into a youth hostel. the garden is huge and green with a giant swimming pool in the middle! the backyard also leads to a nice kitchen in the old servants quarters. so great.
the next two days basically consisted of all of us, plus amanda and ben, sitting around the pool in our swimsuits soaking up the sun. or, rather, getting extremely burned. oh well. one day, i did nothing except eat fruit, ice cream and beer while sitting in a pink bikini by the pool! haha. what can i say, its vacation.
by friday, we were ready for a little more activity. susie booked us all on an excursion to see some wineries. not just any wine tour, however; a bicycle powered, 12 kilometer, 6 winery journey! a van came and picked us up, as well as about a dozen other hostel kids, and drove us to the bike rental place out in the country. we got a map and set out. the first stop was a huge old winery museum. we browsed the old barrels and vineyard equipment while sipping merlot. pretty amazing!
a few hours later, several wineries, many glasses of wine, a few chocolates and a random shot of absinthe later, our group was wobbling home on our bikes. we all went back to our respective hostels to rest and relax. susie, leana and chris also had to pack up. they had decided to head to cordoba for a few days before returning to bsas.
speaking of bsas. i found an apartment! months and months ago, i thought i had found a roommate in bsas, in palermo queens. but the whole situation unfortunately did not work out. i kept in touch with the guy, and he randomly emailed me a few days ago asking if i still needed a room. and i do.
so, tomorrow night i return to buenos aires. i have a solid place to stay at least until the end of april. my debit card is in the mail, my phone may be able to get fixed and life might be slightly predictable for a while. or maybe not. ha.
Friday, April 4, 2008
moment to moment
this is my life.
waking up, wherever i am, figuring out what time i have to check out of the hostel or catch a bus or meet with someone. throwing things in a locker or grabbing all my life pocessions that i carry in a backpack. meeting with the other two of our triumphant trio (amanda and shawn) and dishing out stories of each others´ nights ventures. eating junkie italianos or giant ice cream cones. walking around. museums. malls. parks. more food probably. sleeping in a park laughing about a million inside jokes that have been born in a week´s time.
yesterday, while at a giant shopping mall, amanda and i saw a ticket counter for cross continental bus tickets. we ran over and bought tickets for mendoza, argentina on monday. just like that. no plans beyond 3 or 4 days. spur of the moment decisions. life is good.
not having plans does have a downside. i get back to my hostel, say, at maybe 11 in the morning... after not being there for 24 hours. don´t ask. and the front desk guy demands that i pay up or he wont give me my key. and then of course i hate bailing out of people. i was supposed to go to pichilemu today. and then i wasnt able to check out of my hostel in time. because of not-aforementioned funny events. and it was too late in the day to get a bus. so i jotted a quick email, but still feel bad. ahh i hate letting people down. gah.
tonight: dinner with pancho, drinks with the trio (plus a swedish girl, a pair of identical twin british boys and a funny large black brazilian guy who speaks neither spanish nor english), and quien sabe? who knows, we´ll see!
bravissimo: tana, i tried it. its amazing! basically, only the best ice cream place in chile. not just chocolate and vanilla, but everything from pineapple to aloe vera flavors. seriously good!
pichilemu: a little beach town south of santiago. supposedly the surfing capital of chile. but, i am not sure. i never made it. :(
mendoza: the napa valley of argentina! amanda and i are set to go on monday. i want to take a wine tour, she wants to meet up with her french man haha
waking up, wherever i am, figuring out what time i have to check out of the hostel or catch a bus or meet with someone. throwing things in a locker or grabbing all my life pocessions that i carry in a backpack. meeting with the other two of our triumphant trio (amanda and shawn) and dishing out stories of each others´ nights ventures. eating junkie italianos or giant ice cream cones. walking around. museums. malls. parks. more food probably. sleeping in a park laughing about a million inside jokes that have been born in a week´s time.
yesterday, while at a giant shopping mall, amanda and i saw a ticket counter for cross continental bus tickets. we ran over and bought tickets for mendoza, argentina on monday. just like that. no plans beyond 3 or 4 days. spur of the moment decisions. life is good.
not having plans does have a downside. i get back to my hostel, say, at maybe 11 in the morning... after not being there for 24 hours. don´t ask. and the front desk guy demands that i pay up or he wont give me my key. and then of course i hate bailing out of people. i was supposed to go to pichilemu today. and then i wasnt able to check out of my hostel in time. because of not-aforementioned funny events. and it was too late in the day to get a bus. so i jotted a quick email, but still feel bad. ahh i hate letting people down. gah.
tonight: dinner with pancho, drinks with the trio (plus a swedish girl, a pair of identical twin british boys and a funny large black brazilian guy who speaks neither spanish nor english), and quien sabe? who knows, we´ll see!
bravissimo: tana, i tried it. its amazing! basically, only the best ice cream place in chile. not just chocolate and vanilla, but everything from pineapple to aloe vera flavors. seriously good!
pichilemu: a little beach town south of santiago. supposedly the surfing capital of chile. but, i am not sure. i never made it. :(
mendoza: the napa valley of argentina! amanda and i are set to go on monday. i want to take a wine tour, she wants to meet up with her french man haha
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
the life of a traveler
i have learned something interesting.
there is this whole weird traveler sub-culture. it consists of random connections, locutorios, hostel connoisseurs, cross continental buses and wild "why-the-heck-not" sort of plans.
another part of this world is "temporary best friendship," as i call it. right now, my two best friends in the world consist of individuals i have not known longer than a week. amanda, for example, is from holland and the two of us are like college freshmen girls, attached at the hip, asking each other "where are we going to eat tonight," and borrowing each others' clothes.
shawn is from the US, and the two of us bicker like brother and sister. amanda met him somewhere in cordoba or mendoza, i dont know, and the two have been traveling together ever since. now i am joining the little group, and who knows what is going to happen next.
last night, over pasta at "las vacas gordas" restaurant down the street, amanda shouted, "hey, do you want to go hitchhiking back to buenos aires with shawn and i?"
sounds like a plan. haha. oh what is my life right now. so funny.
words / concepts of the day:
locutorios: a little shop with phones and computers for internet, perfect for travelers and those without cell phones or internet. in most of south america, its ridiculously cheap. $1 usd per hour, at the most.
youth hostels: okay, i am sure you know what a youth hostel is. you pay a little bit to sleep in a dorm bunk bed. but in south america, these hostels go all out to compete for customers. they will have patios, barbeques, laundry rooms, pools and many have a full bar for the kids. a lot of people get addicted to hostel life and end up living in them for weeks or even months.
there is this whole weird traveler sub-culture. it consists of random connections, locutorios, hostel connoisseurs, cross continental buses and wild "why-the-heck-not" sort of plans.
another part of this world is "temporary best friendship," as i call it. right now, my two best friends in the world consist of individuals i have not known longer than a week. amanda, for example, is from holland and the two of us are like college freshmen girls, attached at the hip, asking each other "where are we going to eat tonight," and borrowing each others' clothes.
shawn is from the US, and the two of us bicker like brother and sister. amanda met him somewhere in cordoba or mendoza, i dont know, and the two have been traveling together ever since. now i am joining the little group, and who knows what is going to happen next.
last night, over pasta at "las vacas gordas" restaurant down the street, amanda shouted, "hey, do you want to go hitchhiking back to buenos aires with shawn and i?"
sounds like a plan. haha. oh what is my life right now. so funny.
words / concepts of the day:
locutorios: a little shop with phones and computers for internet, perfect for travelers and those without cell phones or internet. in most of south america, its ridiculously cheap. $1 usd per hour, at the most.
youth hostels: okay, i am sure you know what a youth hostel is. you pay a little bit to sleep in a dorm bunk bed. but in south america, these hostels go all out to compete for customers. they will have patios, barbeques, laundry rooms, pools and many have a full bar for the kids. a lot of people get addicted to hostel life and end up living in them for weeks or even months.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
around the big city
ahh. today was a day full of completo italianos, plazas and some good old fashioned chilean dancing.
i woke up late, after a good night's sleep. i emailed amanda so we could meet up in plaza de armas later that afternoon. since i had run out of chilean pesos on saturday night (that last underground club cost $6000 pesos to get in, like $15 usd!), i had to find a way to change my argentine pesos. armed with a few hundred AR pesos, i braved the financial district to find the best cambio with a decent exchange rate. after a half hour, i walked away with $66,000 CH pesos. feeling rich, i found a little starbucks-esque cafe (they served ridiculously sugary espresso drinks in paper cups) and settled down for some good reading time.
i wandered over to plaza de armas after a bit. realizing i had over 45 minutes to wait for amanda, i took out a notebook and started taking notes on the people i saw. and thus was born the "official lists of weird south american culture." here's a sneak preview at what i have observed so far:
official list of weird t-shirt phrases written in english and worn by south americans:
1. "pure, white, sugar" (seen by susie on a guy in BA)
2. "MANUAL LOVE" (on a wrinkly old, overly tan woman. the grossest t-shirt ever)
3. "Made in the US of A" (on a small, stocky, definitely-not-US-citizen in santiago)
4. "Teenage Playboy" (with a playboy bunny, on an old woman in the customs station)
5. "I am watching you" (a larger girl in santiago)
6. "BUY NOW!" (a stocky chilean in the financial district)
7. "justify my love" (a punk teen in santiago)
8. "myth of egoist" (not sure, just weird)
9. "HERO" (chilean teenage boy)
10. "Japan Force 18" (on a small, chubby boy)
11. "National Pornographic" (seen in the markets of Parque Forestal)
12. "Kiss me!" (on a possibly 11 or 12-year-old girl's shirt)
13. "What is your sister doing tonight?" (seen by Susie, in BA)
to be continued...
note taking continued for half an hour or so (and don't worry, there's also an official "Odd South American fashion" list, including descriptions of the parachute pants). then amanda arrived, with her friend shawn. for some reason, i assumed shawn for from chile, even though his english was perfect and his name was not chilean. and, as i found out two hours later (after explaining to him where i lived in the US and drawing him a freaking map), he was NOT chilean, not latin, but from new york city! he laughed and said that he and amanda had planned it out as a joke. i gave him a lot of crap about tricking me for a bit, but we became friends in the end.
the three of us went shopping in the market near parque forestal, and then explored the actual park. it was gorgeous! climbing to the top of an old, old tower in the park, we could see the whole city at dusk. after the park, we walked around for a bit before finding a place called "la piojera." piojera turned out to be an absolute hole-in-the-wall local joint, as evidenced by the stares we got when entering. the food was amazing, the music was incredible (two guys with an accordion and a guitar serenaded everyone amidst the sounds of chileans shouting "drink drink drink!"), and the terremoto kept everyone dancing to the traditional music. at the peak of it all, an old man stood up and pulled out his fancy handkerchief, inviting his wife to dance. everyone in the pub clapped along and cheered for the couple who, although their walking was a slow shuffle, their feet flew when the music came on.
after a few hours at the pub, we all headed home to sleep. i am feeling a bit sick, but hopefully a good night's sleep will do be well!
words / concepts of the day:
cambio: a money exchange service place. on avenida augustinas, there are about 6 in a row, so you can check for the best rate.
terremoto: a specialty drink here. strong white wine with a huge scoop of plain gelato. its best when stirred around a bunch. the place to get it is la piojera, on bandera and san pablo, near the market.
"me duele el/la ____ :" my _____ hurts. a great phrase to use when your throat (la garganza) hurts and you need medicine, or your stomach (el estómago) is upset. just visit the closest faramcia and explain what hurts. if you don't know the name of the body part that hurts, pull out a huge picture map of the human body and point to a part (as amanda did haha)
i woke up late, after a good night's sleep. i emailed amanda so we could meet up in plaza de armas later that afternoon. since i had run out of chilean pesos on saturday night (that last underground club cost $6000 pesos to get in, like $15 usd!), i had to find a way to change my argentine pesos. armed with a few hundred AR pesos, i braved the financial district to find the best cambio with a decent exchange rate. after a half hour, i walked away with $66,000 CH pesos. feeling rich, i found a little starbucks-esque cafe (they served ridiculously sugary espresso drinks in paper cups) and settled down for some good reading time.
i wandered over to plaza de armas after a bit. realizing i had over 45 minutes to wait for amanda, i took out a notebook and started taking notes on the people i saw. and thus was born the "official lists of weird south american culture." here's a sneak preview at what i have observed so far:
official list of weird t-shirt phrases written in english and worn by south americans:
1. "pure, white, sugar" (seen by susie on a guy in BA)
2. "MANUAL LOVE" (on a wrinkly old, overly tan woman. the grossest t-shirt ever)
3. "Made in the US of A" (on a small, stocky, definitely-not-US-citizen in santiago)
4. "Teenage Playboy" (with a playboy bunny, on an old woman in the customs station)
5. "I am watching you" (a larger girl in santiago)
6. "BUY NOW!" (a stocky chilean in the financial district)
7. "justify my love" (a punk teen in santiago)
8. "myth of egoist" (not sure, just weird)
9. "HERO" (chilean teenage boy)
10. "Japan Force 18" (on a small, chubby boy)
11. "National Pornographic" (seen in the markets of Parque Forestal)
12. "Kiss me!" (on a possibly 11 or 12-year-old girl's shirt)
13. "What is your sister doing tonight?" (seen by Susie, in BA)
to be continued...
note taking continued for half an hour or so (and don't worry, there's also an official "Odd South American fashion" list, including descriptions of the parachute pants). then amanda arrived, with her friend shawn. for some reason, i assumed shawn for from chile, even though his english was perfect and his name was not chilean. and, as i found out two hours later (after explaining to him where i lived in the US and drawing him a freaking map), he was NOT chilean, not latin, but from new york city! he laughed and said that he and amanda had planned it out as a joke. i gave him a lot of crap about tricking me for a bit, but we became friends in the end.
the three of us went shopping in the market near parque forestal, and then explored the actual park. it was gorgeous! climbing to the top of an old, old tower in the park, we could see the whole city at dusk. after the park, we walked around for a bit before finding a place called "la piojera." piojera turned out to be an absolute hole-in-the-wall local joint, as evidenced by the stares we got when entering. the food was amazing, the music was incredible (two guys with an accordion and a guitar serenaded everyone amidst the sounds of chileans shouting "drink drink drink!"), and the terremoto kept everyone dancing to the traditional music. at the peak of it all, an old man stood up and pulled out his fancy handkerchief, inviting his wife to dance. everyone in the pub clapped along and cheered for the couple who, although their walking was a slow shuffle, their feet flew when the music came on.
after a few hours at the pub, we all headed home to sleep. i am feeling a bit sick, but hopefully a good night's sleep will do be well!
words / concepts of the day:
cambio: a money exchange service place. on avenida augustinas, there are about 6 in a row, so you can check for the best rate.
terremoto: a specialty drink here. strong white wine with a huge scoop of plain gelato. its best when stirred around a bunch. the place to get it is la piojera, on bandera and san pablo, near the market.
"me duele el/la ____ :" my _____ hurts. a great phrase to use when your throat (la garganza) hurts and you need medicine, or your stomach (el estómago) is upset. just visit the closest faramcia and explain what hurts. if you don't know the name of the body part that hurts, pull out a huge picture map of the human body and point to a part (as amanda did haha)
Sunday, March 30, 2008
saturday nights in santiago
if i could spend a few more saturdays like last night, i would be forever happy.
last night was a blast! after surviving 27 hours of andesmar semi-cama buses (you get what you pay for) and being squashed next to a larger man and drinking gross nescafe for most of the trip, i was ready to be in santiago.
i arrived at the bus station around 8 at night. it was dark, and i was so exhausted and confused i could barely navigate the station. i managed to find a place to exchange money (the chilean peso is SO confusing), use the bathroom (which they charged me $200 chilean pesos for a little wad of toilet paper) and giving up on trying to find the right bus, i hailed a taxi.
i arrived at the apartment i was going to stay at without further troubles. inside, i met shannon, one of the tenants, phillipe, her roommate, and amanda, another couchsurfer like myself. right away, amanda and i began bonding and talk of going out to a club began. shannon suggested club blondie, some place with lots of britpop and trashy club songs. i was so in.
and thus began the craziest night of my life. amanda and i got dressed up and headed out around 1:30am. we decided that we needed something to drink, so we went to the local mercado and got a nice little bottle of wine. and then we realized that buying a bottle of wine at that point was dumb; we had no glasses or anywhere to drink it that was remotely socially acceptable. so we threw out classiness and brown-bagged it through the park, all the way to the bus stop. ha.
at the bus stop we soon made friends with a paraguayan man and his chilean girlfriend. soon we were sharing our drinks and laughing. they gave us directions to the club, and we all boarded a sketchy looking bus for club blondie.
at the club, amanda and i checked out coats and checked out the dance floor. it was disappointing. about 20 people, tiny floor, and stupid, dark electronica. we tried to dance, and soon two "joshua-version-two" types, most likely gay (it was a gay club!) were flamboyently dancing with us. it was okay, but amanda and i wanted some better music. then, one of the guys mentioned another dance floor, so amanda and i absolutely fled the scene, turned a corner and squealed; here was a GIANT dance floor packed with kids and franz ferdinands voice blared through the speakers. we laughed and jumped up on the stage and danced our little hearts out.
after a bit we befriended this photographer guy who kept taking photos for us. soon we were all dancing and being crazy. every song seemed even better than the last, the lights were great and somehow (who knows?) four hours passed. the club was closing, and we all gathered outside the club. german (the photographer guy), amanda, her friend martin and i all attempted to figure out what to do. while amanda went to go eat some bread-with-salsa thing she had purchased from a street vendor, german grabbed my hand and said in english, "let's run away right now!" next thing i know we are laughing and dodging seven lanes of traffic, running to who knows where. we didnt get very far, and both of us ended up tripping over a small fence in the grassy median. laughing, we decided to get in the next taxi. amanda and martin ran over and joined us, and soon we were off to some underground club.
by the time we got there, i was so tired i could barely keep my eyes open. german didnt have enough pesos to get in, and within 5 minutes i knew that this was pretty lame. amanda and i left around 6, exhausted from our crazy night.
after waking up at noon, i did a little emailing and a little grocery shopping (i bought an avocado, just like i said i would!). i explored the neighborhood, and discovered a great place called plaza de armas, with a big square, beautiful buildings, outdoor markets and lots of artists and musicians.
walking around santiago has been funny, because although i know it is not buenos aires, i still expect to see the same types of buildings. the architecture is just slightly different, the climate is a tiny bit cooler and most of all... the people are way different than porteños. i have never seen a people group more physically recognizable than chileanos. generally, these people are smaller, stockier and have very young looking features. in buenos aires i fit in, or at least could pass. i have never been more aware of my pale skin and gawky features. and the language! i feel as though it is not even spanish. but my version of spanish, castellano, is barely spanish. my ear is so acustomed to the double L's and flowing sounds of argentine spanish that it is shocking to hear the dut-da-dut-da cadences of chilean spanish. i honestly dont understand anything.
i feel as though i could go to bed now. but i need to wait a few hours. maybe i will prepare some sort of sandwich de falta (avocado) y tomate. or go buy myself a completo italiano. mmm.
words / concepts of the day:
south american buses: they come in several categories of nice-ness: super cama, cama, semi-cama and ... clasico. ew. clasico is the equivalent of a off brand, broken down greyhound bus. semi-cama is a little better but you might still find mysterious black goop on the back of the chair in front of you, inches from you leg, haunting you for all of the 17 hour journey. cama is great. big comfy chairs, lots of free drinks, food that is okay or not that great.
chilean peso: i am still so confused about this. there are 420 chilean pesos to one US dollar. there are 3.1 argentine pesos to one US dollar. how many chilean pesos to argentine pesos? this i would like to know. and its weird to buy a hotdog that costs 400 pesos.
completo italiano: the most amazing thing ever! a santiago specialty, it is a hotdog loaded with totatoes, mustard and avocados. but why they call it a "complete italian" is beyond me. i dont know the last time i associated italy with avocados.
last night was a blast! after surviving 27 hours of andesmar semi-cama buses (you get what you pay for) and being squashed next to a larger man and drinking gross nescafe for most of the trip, i was ready to be in santiago.
i arrived at the bus station around 8 at night. it was dark, and i was so exhausted and confused i could barely navigate the station. i managed to find a place to exchange money (the chilean peso is SO confusing), use the bathroom (which they charged me $200 chilean pesos for a little wad of toilet paper) and giving up on trying to find the right bus, i hailed a taxi.
i arrived at the apartment i was going to stay at without further troubles. inside, i met shannon, one of the tenants, phillipe, her roommate, and amanda, another couchsurfer like myself. right away, amanda and i began bonding and talk of going out to a club began. shannon suggested club blondie, some place with lots of britpop and trashy club songs. i was so in.
and thus began the craziest night of my life. amanda and i got dressed up and headed out around 1:30am. we decided that we needed something to drink, so we went to the local mercado and got a nice little bottle of wine. and then we realized that buying a bottle of wine at that point was dumb; we had no glasses or anywhere to drink it that was remotely socially acceptable. so we threw out classiness and brown-bagged it through the park, all the way to the bus stop. ha.
at the bus stop we soon made friends with a paraguayan man and his chilean girlfriend. soon we were sharing our drinks and laughing. they gave us directions to the club, and we all boarded a sketchy looking bus for club blondie.
at the club, amanda and i checked out coats and checked out the dance floor. it was disappointing. about 20 people, tiny floor, and stupid, dark electronica. we tried to dance, and soon two "joshua-version-two" types, most likely gay (it was a gay club!) were flamboyently dancing with us. it was okay, but amanda and i wanted some better music. then, one of the guys mentioned another dance floor, so amanda and i absolutely fled the scene, turned a corner and squealed; here was a GIANT dance floor packed with kids and franz ferdinands voice blared through the speakers. we laughed and jumped up on the stage and danced our little hearts out.
after a bit we befriended this photographer guy who kept taking photos for us. soon we were all dancing and being crazy. every song seemed even better than the last, the lights were great and somehow (who knows?) four hours passed. the club was closing, and we all gathered outside the club. german (the photographer guy), amanda, her friend martin and i all attempted to figure out what to do. while amanda went to go eat some bread-with-salsa thing she had purchased from a street vendor, german grabbed my hand and said in english, "let's run away right now!" next thing i know we are laughing and dodging seven lanes of traffic, running to who knows where. we didnt get very far, and both of us ended up tripping over a small fence in the grassy median. laughing, we decided to get in the next taxi. amanda and martin ran over and joined us, and soon we were off to some underground club.
by the time we got there, i was so tired i could barely keep my eyes open. german didnt have enough pesos to get in, and within 5 minutes i knew that this was pretty lame. amanda and i left around 6, exhausted from our crazy night.
after waking up at noon, i did a little emailing and a little grocery shopping (i bought an avocado, just like i said i would!). i explored the neighborhood, and discovered a great place called plaza de armas, with a big square, beautiful buildings, outdoor markets and lots of artists and musicians.
walking around santiago has been funny, because although i know it is not buenos aires, i still expect to see the same types of buildings. the architecture is just slightly different, the climate is a tiny bit cooler and most of all... the people are way different than porteños. i have never seen a people group more physically recognizable than chileanos. generally, these people are smaller, stockier and have very young looking features. in buenos aires i fit in, or at least could pass. i have never been more aware of my pale skin and gawky features. and the language! i feel as though it is not even spanish. but my version of spanish, castellano, is barely spanish. my ear is so acustomed to the double L's and flowing sounds of argentine spanish that it is shocking to hear the dut-da-dut-da cadences of chilean spanish. i honestly dont understand anything.
i feel as though i could go to bed now. but i need to wait a few hours. maybe i will prepare some sort of sandwich de falta (avocado) y tomate. or go buy myself a completo italiano. mmm.
words / concepts of the day:
south american buses: they come in several categories of nice-ness: super cama, cama, semi-cama and ... clasico. ew. clasico is the equivalent of a off brand, broken down greyhound bus. semi-cama is a little better but you might still find mysterious black goop on the back of the chair in front of you, inches from you leg, haunting you for all of the 17 hour journey. cama is great. big comfy chairs, lots of free drinks, food that is okay or not that great.
chilean peso: i am still so confused about this. there are 420 chilean pesos to one US dollar. there are 3.1 argentine pesos to one US dollar. how many chilean pesos to argentine pesos? this i would like to know. and its weird to buy a hotdog that costs 400 pesos.
completo italiano: the most amazing thing ever! a santiago specialty, it is a hotdog loaded with totatoes, mustard and avocados. but why they call it a "complete italian" is beyond me. i dont know the last time i associated italy with avocados.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
over the border
i am sitting at a little internet cafe in the bus station of mendoza, argentina. the little CD kiosco in the long hallway of tiny souvenir stands and gift shops is playing the gotan project, my favorite tango electronica CD. it reminds me of the first time i was in buenos aires.
walking along here, there are funny things. i wandered into a little shop and found shelves of discount makeup. i almost bought some for ruth. hehe. instead, i bought a much needed purple hair brush. i forgot mine somewhere.
a little old man, tall and skinny and skin so wrinkled, shuffles by. he is scowling at a bunch of boys who have just ran past him. he shouts at them in spanish. i start laughing out loud, i don´t know why.
on the bus, a fat argentine baby coos and stuffs an alfahor in his face. his dad kisses his head, over and over and says "mi hijo."
a woman with emmaculate makeup hands me a piece of paper sprayed with perfume. i smile and stick it in my bag to smell it later. i am odd like that.
it is rainy outside, for the first time since i have been here. when i opened my eyes on the bus this morning, after sleeping in an odd position with my stomach full of strange treats like milanesia and bread-with-mayonaise (a staple food here), all i could see was water spilling down the outside of the bus. i thought we were in a waterfall.
i don´t have much else to say. its been a quiet last few days. before i left on my bus from bariloche yesterday afternoon, i just hung out with titan (one of the workers at the hostel) all day and watched bad american movies dubbed in spanish. we argued about futbol teams and then he made me speak spanish and drink lots of mate. it was fun.
tonight, santiago!
words / concepts of the day:
alfahor: a medium to large cookie sandwich thing, filled with dulce de leche and usually covered in chocolate. a specialty of argentina.
mi hijo: my son. or mi hija, my daughter. very loving term.
milanesia: everything is about food here! milanasia is meat, pounded very thin and covered in breadcrumbs, then baked. soooo good.
walking along here, there are funny things. i wandered into a little shop and found shelves of discount makeup. i almost bought some for ruth. hehe. instead, i bought a much needed purple hair brush. i forgot mine somewhere.
a little old man, tall and skinny and skin so wrinkled, shuffles by. he is scowling at a bunch of boys who have just ran past him. he shouts at them in spanish. i start laughing out loud, i don´t know why.
on the bus, a fat argentine baby coos and stuffs an alfahor in his face. his dad kisses his head, over and over and says "mi hijo."
a woman with emmaculate makeup hands me a piece of paper sprayed with perfume. i smile and stick it in my bag to smell it later. i am odd like that.
it is rainy outside, for the first time since i have been here. when i opened my eyes on the bus this morning, after sleeping in an odd position with my stomach full of strange treats like milanesia and bread-with-mayonaise (a staple food here), all i could see was water spilling down the outside of the bus. i thought we were in a waterfall.
i don´t have much else to say. its been a quiet last few days. before i left on my bus from bariloche yesterday afternoon, i just hung out with titan (one of the workers at the hostel) all day and watched bad american movies dubbed in spanish. we argued about futbol teams and then he made me speak spanish and drink lots of mate. it was fun.
tonight, santiago!
words / concepts of the day:
alfahor: a medium to large cookie sandwich thing, filled with dulce de leche and usually covered in chocolate. a specialty of argentina.
mi hijo: my son. or mi hija, my daughter. very loving term.
milanesia: everything is about food here! milanasia is meat, pounded very thin and covered in breadcrumbs, then baked. soooo good.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
parting ways
tomorrow, leana and susie leave for puerto varas, chile (another little woods-y resort town on the other side of the border) and i take a bus to the santiago, chile. we're parting ways for a bit, which is sad.
but, we lived it up the last three nights. seriously, out of control. as leana would say, cruuuuunkk. haha. so high school.
after several days of hiking, biking and horseback riding through the wilderness, we decided to enjoy this little town of bariloche. its like some sort of miniature swiss village, only everyone speaks spanish and they still dont know how to do fondue. anyways, on tuesday night (jen and joel's last night in town before they head to BsAs!), we convinced mrs. joel comer to come join us unmarried girls for a night on the town. we headed over to one of four bars in town, this irish pub-type establishment for a round of quilmes. jen and susie were soon in deep conversation, reminiscing about childhood stories and canadian politics. leana and i decided to explore the bar and found that there was a live band performing. a skinny, tan-skinned argentine passionately clasping a microphone warbled out pink floyd lyrics, in slighly odd english. it was pretty hilarious. leana and i bumped into some other guys, obviously enjoying the funny display of not-quite-correct english music and soon we were all talking about our travels. the guys were from israel, and had just ended their mandatory three year military service. the rest of the night we got to hang out with the guys some more, and dancing and general silliness ensued.
on wednesday, tired from our night out, the group parted ways. jen and joel left bariloche, and us three girls moved to a new hostel. our new "hostel," about 5 kilometers out of town, proved to actually be a small cabin in the woods. its amazing! a few blocks from the lake and complete with two floors and a full kitchen, we have had a blast hanging out at our cabana for two nights.
wednesday night was hilarious. us three girls got dressed up and headed to town, prepared to go to a restaurant that had been recommended to us as an excellent fondue place. "la fonda del tio" sounded like it could possibly be an establishment worthy of a great journey, but after we walked more than a kilometer and we nearing the not-so-suave part of town, we began to doubt. finally, after 10 blocks, we saw a small restaurant. inside, we noted the basic, cafeteria style tables and groups of futbol-uniform-clad guys and kids running around. clearly a more laid back fondue place, we thought. but we didn't see any fondue. we had so much faith that the restaurant had fondue that we decided that the small brown pots on the table must contain fondue. susie heard pounding in the back kitchen and announced, "that's them chopping the chocolate for fondue." we nodded.
by the time we were seated and had looked over the menu for our fondue options (but only found listings for french fries and cheap salads), we asked the waiter. "donde estan ... el fondue?" the waiter just looked at us oddly. "queremos fondue." leana added, just to clarify. the waiter shook his head. we don't serve fondue here, he said. and that's when we realized that we were dressed to the nines and in the argentine version of denny's, attempting to order cheese fondue and appetizers. they didn't even charge cubiertos there, it was soooo class. not. ha.
today, we leana, susie and i wandered around the lake and ate ice cream for breakfast. then we walked a few kilometers to the gondola station and rode gondolas up the mountain. at the top, we ate at a revolving restaurant (just like the space needle!) and then enjoyed a looooonnnng hike down the mountain, on a winding road on which argentine teenage boys kept attempting to pick us up in their spluttering cars. we laughed lot, mostly at stories about old hamsters and ginnea pigs that had died in tragic ways.
tonight, we finally made it to fondue. it was great, and we stuffed ourselves on oddly thick argentine bread and swiss cheese. we laughed more, always, and then headed back to our cabana. as we were walking in the kitchen, we heard a meow outside. opening the door, a blond boy cat ran in, clearly scared. a huge pack of dogs almost crashed into the front of our house in pursuit of the poor feline. the cat were so grateful for saving him that we immediately curled up against our feet and purred. the little guy accompanied our packing up and tried to bury himself in my clothes in my backpack. i felt very tempted to take him to chile with me in my purple bag, but then he started hacking up a hairball.
tomorrow, i get on an all-night bus to santiago, chile. saturday night, i arrive in the city center and will head to the house of shannon, carlos and flyter; none of whom i know but who have opened up their couch to me. i look forward to a weekend of fun in the capital, and then a few days at the beach in valparaiso!
words / concepts of the day:
cubierto - a basic table charge you get at a nicer restaurant in argentina. sometimes, if you are at a medium classy restaurant, you can avoid the charge just by sitting at a table without a tablecloth. usually only 3 pesos ($1 usd)
tienes fondue aca? - "do you have fondue here?" what you should do to check your facts.
argentine boys - not really a special word or concept, but a whole persona. argentine boys are out of control flirty. seriously. example: the guys at the front desks of the past two hostels i have stayed at have chatted me up, flirted like crazy, offered me everything from mate to private spanish lessons and then, bam, dropped some line about how their girlfriend and them are celebrating their third year anniversary that night. what the heck?
but, we lived it up the last three nights. seriously, out of control. as leana would say, cruuuuunkk. haha. so high school.
after several days of hiking, biking and horseback riding through the wilderness, we decided to enjoy this little town of bariloche. its like some sort of miniature swiss village, only everyone speaks spanish and they still dont know how to do fondue. anyways, on tuesday night (jen and joel's last night in town before they head to BsAs!), we convinced mrs. joel comer to come join us unmarried girls for a night on the town. we headed over to one of four bars in town, this irish pub-type establishment for a round of quilmes. jen and susie were soon in deep conversation, reminiscing about childhood stories and canadian politics. leana and i decided to explore the bar and found that there was a live band performing. a skinny, tan-skinned argentine passionately clasping a microphone warbled out pink floyd lyrics, in slighly odd english. it was pretty hilarious. leana and i bumped into some other guys, obviously enjoying the funny display of not-quite-correct english music and soon we were all talking about our travels. the guys were from israel, and had just ended their mandatory three year military service. the rest of the night we got to hang out with the guys some more, and dancing and general silliness ensued.
on wednesday, tired from our night out, the group parted ways. jen and joel left bariloche, and us three girls moved to a new hostel. our new "hostel," about 5 kilometers out of town, proved to actually be a small cabin in the woods. its amazing! a few blocks from the lake and complete with two floors and a full kitchen, we have had a blast hanging out at our cabana for two nights.
wednesday night was hilarious. us three girls got dressed up and headed to town, prepared to go to a restaurant that had been recommended to us as an excellent fondue place. "la fonda del tio" sounded like it could possibly be an establishment worthy of a great journey, but after we walked more than a kilometer and we nearing the not-so-suave part of town, we began to doubt. finally, after 10 blocks, we saw a small restaurant. inside, we noted the basic, cafeteria style tables and groups of futbol-uniform-clad guys and kids running around. clearly a more laid back fondue place, we thought. but we didn't see any fondue. we had so much faith that the restaurant had fondue that we decided that the small brown pots on the table must contain fondue. susie heard pounding in the back kitchen and announced, "that's them chopping the chocolate for fondue." we nodded.
by the time we were seated and had looked over the menu for our fondue options (but only found listings for french fries and cheap salads), we asked the waiter. "donde estan ... el fondue?" the waiter just looked at us oddly. "queremos fondue." leana added, just to clarify. the waiter shook his head. we don't serve fondue here, he said. and that's when we realized that we were dressed to the nines and in the argentine version of denny's, attempting to order cheese fondue and appetizers. they didn't even charge cubiertos there, it was soooo class. not. ha.
today, we leana, susie and i wandered around the lake and ate ice cream for breakfast. then we walked a few kilometers to the gondola station and rode gondolas up the mountain. at the top, we ate at a revolving restaurant (just like the space needle!) and then enjoyed a looooonnnng hike down the mountain, on a winding road on which argentine teenage boys kept attempting to pick us up in their spluttering cars. we laughed lot, mostly at stories about old hamsters and ginnea pigs that had died in tragic ways.
tonight, we finally made it to fondue. it was great, and we stuffed ourselves on oddly thick argentine bread and swiss cheese. we laughed more, always, and then headed back to our cabana. as we were walking in the kitchen, we heard a meow outside. opening the door, a blond boy cat ran in, clearly scared. a huge pack of dogs almost crashed into the front of our house in pursuit of the poor feline. the cat were so grateful for saving him that we immediately curled up against our feet and purred. the little guy accompanied our packing up and tried to bury himself in my clothes in my backpack. i felt very tempted to take him to chile with me in my purple bag, but then he started hacking up a hairball.
tomorrow, i get on an all-night bus to santiago, chile. saturday night, i arrive in the city center and will head to the house of shannon, carlos and flyter; none of whom i know but who have opened up their couch to me. i look forward to a weekend of fun in the capital, and then a few days at the beach in valparaiso!
words / concepts of the day:
cubierto - a basic table charge you get at a nicer restaurant in argentina. sometimes, if you are at a medium classy restaurant, you can avoid the charge just by sitting at a table without a tablecloth. usually only 3 pesos ($1 usd)
tienes fondue aca? - "do you have fondue here?" what you should do to check your facts.
argentine boys - not really a special word or concept, but a whole persona. argentine boys are out of control flirty. seriously. example: the guys at the front desks of the past two hostels i have stayed at have chatted me up, flirted like crazy, offered me everything from mate to private spanish lessons and then, bam, dropped some line about how their girlfriend and them are celebrating their third year anniversary that night. what the heck?
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
time for new plans
so. it has been decided. i am going to santiago!
i debated about it for several days, trying to figure out what i really wanted to do. i guess that the idea of a big city really called to me. i mean, santiago is HUGE. when else will i get the chance to wander the street's of the chilean capital?
in two days, susie and leana will go to puerto varas, a small chilean lake town, and i will continue on to santiago. i am so, so stoked. i have no idea what to expect in this city but somehow, i feel like this is completing some sort of funny circle. a year and a half ago, frey, ruth and tana went to chile. a year and a half later, i am finally going there myself. it will be good.
oh, and couch-surfing is happening, hopefully! i emailed a few people in santiago, and i am pumped to extend my CS experience to an international level. if you don't know, couchsurfing.com is way cool. try it out.
nothing really happened today besides this major decision. all of us woke up late, leana was sick, and all of us were so freaking sore from horseback riding. i sat on my laptop for pretty much four hours, trying to figure out plans and find an apartment in buenos aires. no luck so far. so hard.
i also attempted to be social today. i had forgotten how introverted i get when traveling. i get overwhelmed and retreat to journaling, reading and observing. tonight before dinner i squeezed out a few conversations with others at the hostels. its weird how hard it is to talk to others when you aren't in your own culture.
tomorrow, jen and joel head back to buenos aires to get passports; and susie, leana and i head to the woods to stay in a cabin for two days. i am excited to chill for two days. i think i will read some douglas coupland.
words / concepts of the day:
la guerra sucia: a very contriversial period of argentine history. i wrote a paper on it once.
hmm more later.
i debated about it for several days, trying to figure out what i really wanted to do. i guess that the idea of a big city really called to me. i mean, santiago is HUGE. when else will i get the chance to wander the street's of the chilean capital?
in two days, susie and leana will go to puerto varas, a small chilean lake town, and i will continue on to santiago. i am so, so stoked. i have no idea what to expect in this city but somehow, i feel like this is completing some sort of funny circle. a year and a half ago, frey, ruth and tana went to chile. a year and a half later, i am finally going there myself. it will be good.
oh, and couch-surfing is happening, hopefully! i emailed a few people in santiago, and i am pumped to extend my CS experience to an international level. if you don't know, couchsurfing.com is way cool. try it out.
nothing really happened today besides this major decision. all of us woke up late, leana was sick, and all of us were so freaking sore from horseback riding. i sat on my laptop for pretty much four hours, trying to figure out plans and find an apartment in buenos aires. no luck so far. so hard.
i also attempted to be social today. i had forgotten how introverted i get when traveling. i get overwhelmed and retreat to journaling, reading and observing. tonight before dinner i squeezed out a few conversations with others at the hostels. its weird how hard it is to talk to others when you aren't in your own culture.
tomorrow, jen and joel head back to buenos aires to get passports; and susie, leana and i head to the woods to stay in a cabin for two days. i am excited to chill for two days. i think i will read some douglas coupland.
words / concepts of the day:
la guerra sucia: a very contriversial period of argentine history. i wrote a paper on it once.
hmm more later.
Monday, March 24, 2008
un mil de palabras
http://picasaweb.google.com/celessa711/TheSouthAmericanDiaries
i forgot to tell everyone that i have a page of photos. well i do. here you go.
the last two days have been physically exhausting, but wonderful. saturday night, i retreated to my computer to do some blogging. after a bit, leana stumbled in and plopped down next to me, clutching a wine bottle. needless to say, she had consumed most of it and pretty soon we were giggling like crazy. we decided we needed to go out, instead of annoying the residents of the hostel with our stereotypical loud, drunk american antics.
we grabbed a very sleepy suzie, threw on some makeup and headed out the door. having experienced buenos aires nightlife before, i thought that bariloche would be the same. not so. the first bar we went to was an irish bar packed full of ... 40-year-old tourists. gross. the second was a slightly neon-lit establishment called the roxy bar. the only seats we could find was at a table with two oddly "u-dub" looking boys. we sat down and struck up a conversation and discovered that matteus and gerardo were engineering students at a nearby university. the boys were nice, but painfully awkward and shy. we talked, danced a little bit, i made a fool of myself, and we left.
sunday was easter. we celebrated by taking a rickety old bus to nearby colonia suiza, high in the mountains. we rented bikes and peddled a grueling 30 kilometers around the lake, stopping to take photos of the breathtaking views and steal a quick dip in the unbelievably cold, clear lake. after four hours of riding a bike down steep hill and UP mountain roads, i was so tired! we arrived back at the hostel, i walked over to my bunk and laid down on top of the blankets. i woke up 12 hours later in the same position.
today was the most amazing day by far. at 9:30, leana, susie and i went down to the lobby, where our ride was waiting. an old german man introduced himself as the owner of a horse ranch. we had called several days before to ask if we could ride horses at the ranch. he agreed, and drove over to pick us up. on the ride to the ranch (which was one quarter paved road and three quarters dirt road), he talked to us about bariloche, about the dirty war and about his horses. he had with him another old man from buenos aires, his friend by the name of juan.
at the ranch, we drove up to a small stable and cabin. a gaucho, straight out of a argentine history book, sat on the patio with two dusty looking dogs. the gaucho was wearing courderoy pants, a heavy homespun cotton shirt, a dirty bandana, and a mapuche-made leather belt with a giant knife stuck in the back. he pointed to the skin of a puma inside his cabin and told the story of how that very knife and his dog had killed the puma last winter. his skin was brown and the wrinkles were as dry and deep as the creek beds surrounding the ranch. he wore a thick mustache with as much pride as the dusty green beret on his head. he only spoke castellano, and usually to the horses. he was truly a gaucho.
the gaucho, susie, leana, myself and the small old man, juan, started out on the trail. i haven't ridden a horse in years and the feeling of being so close to something so loyal, yet so powerful, was amazing. my horse's name was pato (meaning "duck") and he was a funny creature. i talked to pato in spanish, as if that would make him understand me more. the gaucho laughed once, when i told pato that the other horse, pampa, was a little fatty who was slow because she kept stopping to eat.
the land is something i cannot explain in words. an hour ride from any paved road, we were in this hot, dry valley surrounded by mountains. the gaucho pointed out twin peaks, one in chile and the other in argentina. a crystal river ran through the valley. copper rocks spilled down dry hillsides, creating an oddly pale green landscape. yellow brush met unexpectedly with brilliant blue sky. the horses took us kilometer after kilometer into the wilderness.
half way through, we stopped at estancia la esperanza (hope ranch) for lunch. the owner of the ranch had prepared asado for us in his parilla. i have never been so hungry in my life. we spent the meal talking argentine politics and the finer points of grilling meat. after an hour, full of wine and meat, we climbed back on the horses for more adventures in the desert.
after a few more hours, we arrived back at the ranch, exhausted and dusty. the gaucho's dogs had followed us the whole way, and we laughed at how covered in dust and burrs the two animals were. susie, leana and i said "chau" to the gaucho and climbed back into the owner's van, back to the hostel.
now i am sore, tired, but happy. tomorrow i plan to take some time to myself. walk around bariloche, maybe buy a mate gourd and sit by the water, doing what the argentines do best.
words / concepts of the day:
gaucho: a south american cowboy, but way more hardcore
mapuche: the native people of chile/bolivia/argentina region.
asado: barbeque, a HUGE deal in argentina! people gather around asado
parilla: where you cook the asado. every home has one, every hostel has one, even hotels list them as a basic necesity.
castellano: the spanish dialect of argentina. differences: they pronounce their double-L's as "sha;" they use "vos" instead of "tu;" and basically, think their dialect is way cooler than anyone else.
i forgot to tell everyone that i have a page of photos. well i do. here you go.
the last two days have been physically exhausting, but wonderful. saturday night, i retreated to my computer to do some blogging. after a bit, leana stumbled in and plopped down next to me, clutching a wine bottle. needless to say, she had consumed most of it and pretty soon we were giggling like crazy. we decided we needed to go out, instead of annoying the residents of the hostel with our stereotypical loud, drunk american antics.
we grabbed a very sleepy suzie, threw on some makeup and headed out the door. having experienced buenos aires nightlife before, i thought that bariloche would be the same. not so. the first bar we went to was an irish bar packed full of ... 40-year-old tourists. gross. the second was a slightly neon-lit establishment called the roxy bar. the only seats we could find was at a table with two oddly "u-dub" looking boys. we sat down and struck up a conversation and discovered that matteus and gerardo were engineering students at a nearby university. the boys were nice, but painfully awkward and shy. we talked, danced a little bit, i made a fool of myself, and we left.
sunday was easter. we celebrated by taking a rickety old bus to nearby colonia suiza, high in the mountains. we rented bikes and peddled a grueling 30 kilometers around the lake, stopping to take photos of the breathtaking views and steal a quick dip in the unbelievably cold, clear lake. after four hours of riding a bike down steep hill and UP mountain roads, i was so tired! we arrived back at the hostel, i walked over to my bunk and laid down on top of the blankets. i woke up 12 hours later in the same position.
today was the most amazing day by far. at 9:30, leana, susie and i went down to the lobby, where our ride was waiting. an old german man introduced himself as the owner of a horse ranch. we had called several days before to ask if we could ride horses at the ranch. he agreed, and drove over to pick us up. on the ride to the ranch (which was one quarter paved road and three quarters dirt road), he talked to us about bariloche, about the dirty war and about his horses. he had with him another old man from buenos aires, his friend by the name of juan.
at the ranch, we drove up to a small stable and cabin. a gaucho, straight out of a argentine history book, sat on the patio with two dusty looking dogs. the gaucho was wearing courderoy pants, a heavy homespun cotton shirt, a dirty bandana, and a mapuche-made leather belt with a giant knife stuck in the back. he pointed to the skin of a puma inside his cabin and told the story of how that very knife and his dog had killed the puma last winter. his skin was brown and the wrinkles were as dry and deep as the creek beds surrounding the ranch. he wore a thick mustache with as much pride as the dusty green beret on his head. he only spoke castellano, and usually to the horses. he was truly a gaucho.
the gaucho, susie, leana, myself and the small old man, juan, started out on the trail. i haven't ridden a horse in years and the feeling of being so close to something so loyal, yet so powerful, was amazing. my horse's name was pato (meaning "duck") and he was a funny creature. i talked to pato in spanish, as if that would make him understand me more. the gaucho laughed once, when i told pato that the other horse, pampa, was a little fatty who was slow because she kept stopping to eat.
the land is something i cannot explain in words. an hour ride from any paved road, we were in this hot, dry valley surrounded by mountains. the gaucho pointed out twin peaks, one in chile and the other in argentina. a crystal river ran through the valley. copper rocks spilled down dry hillsides, creating an oddly pale green landscape. yellow brush met unexpectedly with brilliant blue sky. the horses took us kilometer after kilometer into the wilderness.
half way through, we stopped at estancia la esperanza (hope ranch) for lunch. the owner of the ranch had prepared asado for us in his parilla. i have never been so hungry in my life. we spent the meal talking argentine politics and the finer points of grilling meat. after an hour, full of wine and meat, we climbed back on the horses for more adventures in the desert.
after a few more hours, we arrived back at the ranch, exhausted and dusty. the gaucho's dogs had followed us the whole way, and we laughed at how covered in dust and burrs the two animals were. susie, leana and i said "chau" to the gaucho and climbed back into the owner's van, back to the hostel.
now i am sore, tired, but happy. tomorrow i plan to take some time to myself. walk around bariloche, maybe buy a mate gourd and sit by the water, doing what the argentines do best.
words / concepts of the day:
gaucho: a south american cowboy, but way more hardcore
mapuche: the native people of chile/bolivia/argentina region.
asado: barbeque, a HUGE deal in argentina! people gather around asado
parilla: where you cook the asado. every home has one, every hostel has one, even hotels list them as a basic necesity.
castellano: the spanish dialect of argentina. differences: they pronounce their double-L's as "sha;" they use "vos" instead of "tu;" and basically, think their dialect is way cooler than anyone else.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
the legend that i heard
i just finished being curled up and being homesick.
sitting in the lobby of the hostel where i am staying, there is a constant stream of odd latin electronica that the guy at the front desk chooses. but for some reason, in the midst of all of the international club music, the song "bulletproof" by rilo kiley just came on. i closed my eyes for a minute and pretended that i was at home. it was great.
last night, i went outside for a moment. all day there had been youth and young adults blasting reggae and painting murals in the narrow cobble-stoned street. as the sun set, the paint brushes and spray paint cans went away. a few guys brought out drums and tin cans. a young woman arrived with a group of little girls, all dressed in green and red and with stars painted on their cheeks. soon some drumming started up, and someone yelled some shrill, wild call, and the girls began dancing. it was like nothing i had ever seen. they marched in a circle, hopped onto their hands and feet like a crab, spun around and then, popped up and kicked in the air. the drumming was so strong i could feel it in my lungs and heart. little children ran among the dancing, adults clapped and intermintedly greeted one another with kisses, and the sun set. the young woman in charge of the group stepped forward and smiled. and then, in her beautiful rolling argentine accent, told the legend of the "children of the stars."
the beats became faster, and the stars came out. it was wonderful. i realized that this is something that hardly any people have seen. hundreds of miles into the interior of argentina, in the andes mountains, this secret legend unfolded in front of me. with stars with their eyes, the children danced.
sitting in the lobby of the hostel where i am staying, there is a constant stream of odd latin electronica that the guy at the front desk chooses. but for some reason, in the midst of all of the international club music, the song "bulletproof" by rilo kiley just came on. i closed my eyes for a minute and pretended that i was at home. it was great.
last night, i went outside for a moment. all day there had been youth and young adults blasting reggae and painting murals in the narrow cobble-stoned street. as the sun set, the paint brushes and spray paint cans went away. a few guys brought out drums and tin cans. a young woman arrived with a group of little girls, all dressed in green and red and with stars painted on their cheeks. soon some drumming started up, and someone yelled some shrill, wild call, and the girls began dancing. it was like nothing i had ever seen. they marched in a circle, hopped onto their hands and feet like a crab, spun around and then, popped up and kicked in the air. the drumming was so strong i could feel it in my lungs and heart. little children ran among the dancing, adults clapped and intermintedly greeted one another with kisses, and the sun set. the young woman in charge of the group stepped forward and smiled. and then, in her beautiful rolling argentine accent, told the legend of the "children of the stars."
the beats became faster, and the stars came out. it was wonderful. i realized that this is something that hardly any people have seen. hundreds of miles into the interior of argentina, in the andes mountains, this secret legend unfolded in front of me. with stars with their eyes, the children danced.
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