This was my first week in my final schedule, after an uncomfortably long limbo period. Here are all my courses with descriptions:
1. Español Intensivo.
I have to take a Spanish class as part of FLACSO, and I decided to do the intensive one. Although it will be a painful 8 weeks of meeting from 9-11 AM (so much earlier in BA!) Tuesday-Friday, I'll have tons of free time the second half of the semester. Plus, it'll be good to review everything as soon as possible so I can start using it. Although I was dreading the class, the students make it much less painful. There are people from all over the world: 4 Americans, 2 Japanese, 2 Austrians, 1 Korean, 1 Englishman, and 1 Brazilian. Although most of us are students, everyone has a different story of how they ended up here, how long they're staying, etc. The Brazilian girl is here with her husband, who is getting his masters at UBA; the Korean guy up and moved his family here, for reasons that are unclear to me; one American girl decided to spend a year here, just because. My favorite person in the class is probably Lorenzo, who's writing a masters thesis in International Economics at UBA, and is every bit the stereotypical Italian: talkative, excitable, and fun to be around when it's 9 in the morning and no one else is in a good mood. In general, everyone seemed to bond immediately. I think we're all open to new relationships in a way that only people who have left most of their other relationships on other continents can be. Also, it's been easier for me to communicate in Spanish with many of these people than it has been with native speakers. We all speak slowly, have a limited vocabulary, and make similar mistakes. This class also reinforced to me, once again, the pathetic state of American foreign language education, at least compared to other countries. I'm pretty sure I've been studying Spanish for longer than anyone in the class, and while I'm not worse, I'm certainly not any better.
4. Seminario del Aprendizaje y Servicio (service learning seminar).
The class portion of this seminar is easy and of little interest to me, but it's completely worth it because for 4 hours a week I'll be working with Las Madres de la Plaza de Mayo. For those who don't know, Las Madres formed during the military dictatorship of 1976-1983, as a group of mothers searching for their "disappeared" children, the word used for those kidnapped, tortured, and killed by the military. They grew from a small, informal network to a large group, protesting in La Plaza de Mayo every Thursday and thus contributing to the downfall of the dictatorship. They still march every Thursday, although now it's in support of other human rights causes, since they don't consider the current government hostile. Besides that, they spend their time trying to figure out what happened to their children, emphasizing the importance of remembrance through monuments, events, etc., and supporting other human rights causes. I haven't spent much time there yet, but the little experience I have has shown me that they're truly incredible people. Despite everything they've experienced, they seem to harbor little anger, instead putting all their energy into making sure that something like this never happens in Argentina again. The office is a very pleasant place, full of jokes and affection; most of the younger people working there are related to disappeared people in one way or another. Technically, my job will consist of sorting through recently declassified police files, given to Las Madres especially and archiving pictures and other mementos pertaining to disappeared people. However, Carmen, our boss, made it clear that she's far more interested in telling us her story and those of others, teaching us about the various human rights groups in Buenos Aires and showing us important locations in the history of Las Madres. Basically, I'm ridiculously excited about this opportunity; it might be the coolest thing that's ever happened to me.
3. Ritmos y Danzas del Río de la Plata.
This is a dance class (with some reading and tests thrown in as well), where we'll learn mostly tango, but also other dances typical to this region such as Milonga and Candombe. Despite my lack of experience or skill in this area, I'm having so much fun in the class. My professor said I have "afinidades para la baile," but he's clearly either a liar, or a terrible judge.
4. Historía Argentina (1880-present).
This, as you may have discerned, will be my only academically challenging class. It's a history class in the political science department taught by an economics professor - essentially CSS (my major) applied to Argentina. Needless to say, I am in love. Although it will be quite a challenge, it's fascinating, both for the material itself and for the way it is taught. In my last class, for example, we read an essay describing the early economic history of Argentina from a Marxist perspective. Without thinking much about it, I assumed that we would discuss things like the successes and failures of the Marxist perspective, when it arose, and for what reasons, just like I've done in countless other classes. Instead, when I got to class, the teacher proceeded to describe the history of Argentina from this perspective, as though it were indisputable fact that history consisted of class wars rooted in relations of production and material conditions. I bumped into a kid from my class on the subway ride home, and when I told him of my surprise and amusement at the lecture, he basically proceeded to disagree with me on everything I said. He felt that the lecture was Peronist rather than Marxist (I didn't know enough to argue with that one), and that most of what the professor said was true. He also made the excellent point that we had spent the first class discussing the impossibility of objective history, and now I understand why. To be honest, I agreed with a lot of what the professor said about international economics. Argentina was a colony, or a semi-colony, for most of its history, and as such it did play a dependent role in the world economy. But in my experience (with mostly liberal people, to be fair) that view is nearly universally accepted as truth here, whereas in America, no matter how liberal the professor, I think he or she typically feels obligated to give the other side of the argument as well. The class is divided into a Teórico and a Práctico, taught by different professors, the former being far more objective in his treatment of history (despite also being a staunch Peronist, from what I've heard).
I'm also excited for the access this class will give me to Argentinian students and UBA, which is such an interesting place. Nearly every class, I've ended up chatting with some student, and, as political science majors, they get right down to business, asking my opinion on the American elections, government in Argentina, etc. We spent the first half of my last class with the Marxist/Peronist professor discussing the upcoming teacher strike at UBA, whether or not it was justified, and how students and teachers should organize to improve the state of things at UBA (which severely lacks in basics like toilet paper, sometimes electricity, chalk for chalkboards and, oh yeah, salaries for the professors). Although a lot of people opposed this particular strike, the conversation operated under the implicit agreement among everyone that students and teachers needed to take action. There was no mention whatsoever of privatization as even a theoretical option.
Other things that are different about UBA: There are no copyright laws here, so everyone just photocopies the homework. It's cheap, but the professors clearly worry about students not developing their own library, and often implore them to buy the books for themselves, a suggestion they universally ignore. Also, I have not yet had an uninterrupted class. Typically students from some radical organizing group come in, often to announce an upcoming debate or charla (chat) about improving UBA. Other times though, it's been people coming in to beg for money or sell trinkets. Each time the professor lets them in, usually because he agrees with what they're doing. When people ask for money, they're far more successful than on the street.
I'm quite excited about this schedule. Despite the lack of academic rigor, I think I'll learn more about Argentina through these more active pursuits than I would sitting in my room reading a book.
Ciao,
Chelsea
Monday, August 25, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Hace un Mes...
As of Friday, I've officially been in Argentina for a month, but it does not feel like it. The world around me seems just as new and the challenges (almost) as challenging. To that end, this weekend, like every other, was full of firsts.
I spent Friday wandering around San Telmo, and it was lovely. I can't believe the amount of new things I continue to discover in my very own neighborhood. I went to a café and did homework for awhile, and then ended up at El Museo de la Ciudad, a small museum with rotating exhibits about life in Buenos Aires in various time periods. Although I encounter few museums I don't like, I have to admit that this one did not thrill me. The current main exhibit is about toilets through the ages, and, well, it was a lot of toilets. However, the other exhibit showed a bunch of huge, old doors from the mansions that used to populate parts of Buenos Aires, and I enjoyed that thoroughly. It's crazy to think of this city filled with European elites in mansions, since I haven't seen a house of any size in the city since arriving. The museum also displayed the winning entries in a photo contest that seemed to involve pictures of kids all over Argentina. They were very cute, and some of the pictures were really good.
After leaving the museum, I ambled down cobblestone streets, poking my head into churches and taking mental notes about the cafés and museums to which I wanted to return. The most exciting part of my day occurred when I stopped in a "kiosco" to buy a snack, and the two very chatty old men running it told me I spoke "castellano" very well. Although communication still frustrates me on a daily basis, it made me realize that I had understood and responded to all of their questions without a second thought - a major improvement from my first day here. I went to dinner at an Uruguayan restaurant with my friend Elaine, and we ate Chivitos, delicious beef sandwiches with vegetables and, in our case, fried egg, that are apparently typical to Uruguay.
I spent Saturday in a similar fashion, seeing various parts of the city. My favorite part of living in a big city is that, once I've left the house, the day just seems to take me, and I wander from place to place, following whims and crowds. I set out in search of a library in which to study, but when I arrived at the Congressional library someone had recommended it was closed.
However, my walk there had been lovely; it was a sunny day and I took a new route down a street I'd never seen. There was a small fair in front of the library, and I bought what I thought was a hand-painted skirt (aren't you proud of me, mom?). When I got home, I realized they were actually bombachas, very baggy gaucho pants, that, according to my host mom, have recently become fashionable for girls to wear in feminine styles. So apparently I'm becoming a hip porteño without even trying.
When I got home, my host mom suggested we go to La Boca, the neighborhood with all the colorful houses that seems to have become emblematic of BsAs. To be clear, La Caminita, the two block strip of colorful houses, artist shops, cafés, and tango shows is not the same as La
Boca, the poor, dangerous, soccer-obsessed neighborhood surrounding it. However, despite the astonishing number of hokey tourist attractions, my host mom managed to convince me that it really was a worthwhile cultural site. Up until twenty years ago, poor dockworkers, mostly Italian immigrants who got off the boat and never left the neighborhood, actually lived in those houses, only leaving because the government condemned the decaying houses. The buildings have since been repaired, and the dock work has gone. La Boca, though still poor and quite dangerous in some areas, is now a trendy neighborhood for young artists, and apartments in the colorful buildings deemed safe enough for residence are quite expensive. Gentrification, it turns out, is an international phenomenon. Incidentally, La Boca today is quite a bit like my neighborhood, San Telmo, just a few years ago: a poor and dangerous 
area with great architecture that hip young porteños were making their own, and bringing tourists with them. Who knows, in a few years La Boca might be the home to some of the best nightlife in Buenos Aires. While walking around, we bought sausages on the street, cooked in a tasty and typically Argentinian way whose name escapes me now. After over a month here, I'm finally jumping on the meat bandwagon; a lot of it just tastes really good.
This is a ship graveyard on the docks that used to be the center of La Boca's economy. It smelled really bad here.
Last night, I went to some bars in San Telmo with Jenny, and we befriended three Argentinian guys who play in a band together. We ended the night sitting on the roof of the hostel that one of them runs, watching to them play Nirvana and Oasis on their guitars. It was quite surreal.
I spent Friday wandering around San Telmo, and it was lovely. I can't believe the amount of new things I continue to discover in my very own neighborhood. I went to a café and did homework for awhile, and then ended up at El Museo de la Ciudad, a small museum with rotating exhibits about life in Buenos Aires in various time periods. Although I encounter few museums I don't like, I have to admit that this one did not thrill me. The current main exhibit is about toilets through the ages, and, well, it was a lot of toilets. However, the other exhibit showed a bunch of huge, old doors from the mansions that used to populate parts of Buenos Aires, and I enjoyed that thoroughly. It's crazy to think of this city filled with European elites in mansions, since I haven't seen a house of any size in the city since arriving. The museum also displayed the winning entries in a photo contest that seemed to involve pictures of kids all over Argentina. They were very cute, and some of the pictures were really good.
After leaving the museum, I ambled down cobblestone streets, poking my head into churches and taking mental notes about the cafés and museums to which I wanted to return. The most exciting part of my day occurred when I stopped in a "kiosco" to buy a snack, and the two very chatty old men running it told me I spoke "castellano" very well. Although communication still frustrates me on a daily basis, it made me realize that I had understood and responded to all of their questions without a second thought - a major improvement from my first day here. I went to dinner at an Uruguayan restaurant with my friend Elaine, and we ate Chivitos, delicious beef sandwiches with vegetables and, in our case, fried egg, that are apparently typical to Uruguay.
I spent Saturday in a similar fashion, seeing various parts of the city. My favorite part of living in a big city is that, once I've left the house, the day just seems to take me, and I wander from place to place, following whims and crowds. I set out in search of a library in which to study, but when I arrived at the Congressional library someone had recommended it was closed.
However, my walk there had been lovely; it was a sunny day and I took a new route down a street I'd never seen. There was a small fair in front of the library, and I bought what I thought was a hand-painted skirt (aren't you proud of me, mom?). When I got home, I realized they were actually bombachas, very baggy gaucho pants, that, according to my host mom, have recently become fashionable for girls to wear in feminine styles. So apparently I'm becoming a hip porteño without even trying.When I got home, my host mom suggested we go to La Boca, the neighborhood with all the colorful houses that seems to have become emblematic of BsAs. To be clear, La Caminita, the two block strip of colorful houses, artist shops, cafés, and tango shows is not the same as La
Boca, the poor, dangerous, soccer-obsessed neighborhood surrounding it. However, despite the astonishing number of hokey tourist attractions, my host mom managed to convince me that it really was a worthwhile cultural site. Up until twenty years ago, poor dockworkers, mostly Italian immigrants who got off the boat and never left the neighborhood, actually lived in those houses, only leaving because the government condemned the decaying houses. The buildings have since been repaired, and the dock work has gone. La Boca, though still poor and quite dangerous in some areas, is now a trendy neighborhood for young artists, and apartments in the colorful buildings deemed safe enough for residence are quite expensive. Gentrification, it turns out, is an international phenomenon. Incidentally, La Boca today is quite a bit like my neighborhood, San Telmo, just a few years ago: a poor and dangerous 
area with great architecture that hip young porteños were making their own, and bringing tourists with them. Who knows, in a few years La Boca might be the home to some of the best nightlife in Buenos Aires. While walking around, we bought sausages on the street, cooked in a tasty and typically Argentinian way whose name escapes me now. After over a month here, I'm finally jumping on the meat bandwagon; a lot of it just tastes really good.
This is a ship graveyard on the docks that used to be the center of La Boca's economy. It smelled really bad here.Last night, I went to some bars in San Telmo with Jenny, and we befriended three Argentinian guys who play in a band together. We ended the night sitting on the roof of the hostel that one of them runs, watching to them play Nirvana and Oasis on their guitars. It was quite surreal.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
A Vacation From My Vacation
Monday was a holiday, so I spent the long weekend in Rosario, a city 4 hours from Buenos Aires, in the Santa Fe province. Before I even left the limits of Buenos Aires, I felt very far away. The bus station was on the edge of town in a very poor neighborhood like nothing I had seen in Buenos Aires so far. This was not the empty streets and dirty sidewalks that had so far characterized the ¨bad parts¨ of Buenos Aires. This was crumbling shacks made of wood planks that looked as thin as cardboard, on unpaved roads wide enough for just a few people. When I saw the kids running around with dirt-streaked faces and no shoes, I realized what the kids begging on the subway come home to at night (if they have homes at all). Needless to say, it was a real eye opener. In a lot of ways, Buenos Aires is like any other modern city, with safe parts and dodgier parts. But I don´t think we have this kind of poverty in America, and we certainly don´t have it around the edge of every major city. I slept for nearly all of the 4 hour bus ride, but when I woke up in the outskirts of Rosario, I saw the same thing, though possibly a bit worse.
Like Buenos Aires, Rosario has heartbreaking outskirts, and a charming center. Actually, Rosario was like a mini-Buenos Aires in almost every way, right up to its central Plaza de Mayo with a pink government building in the middle. Although it had the same gorgeous French architecture, charming cafés and ubiquitous nightlife, Rosario was smaller and more laid-back, with 1 million people to BA´s 3 million (and thirteen million in the metropolitan area). I never though a city of 1 million would feel like a small town to me, but compared to Buenos Aires, it did. It was great to walk down sidewalks and have space to swing my arms, to find a seat on the bus, to wander without fear of getting totally disoriented. Rosario used to be called the Chicago of Argentina for all it´s ties to the mercantile exchange and the cattle industry. But it was like Chicago in other ways: the kindler, gentler counterpart to hectic Buenos Aires, just as Chicago is to New York.
We started off the trip by going to the monument to the flag, a huge tower commemorating the birth of the Argentine flag, designed in Rosario. The monument itself was huge and pleasing to the eyes, if a bit gaudy. The whole area was basically a giant show of nationalism, including a Falkand´s war memorial with the phrase ¨The Falklands, always for Argentina¨ written on it. Most interesting was the design of the one-room museum that housed the first flag. When I walked in, the flags of every American and Carribean country (including the US and Canada) lined the sides, plus a Spanish flag and an Italian one (because Christopher Columbus was born there). At the very end, on its own wall, hung the Argentinian flag. Although the Argentinian flag was bigger and glowing under a light, the museum was not just a tribute to Argentina, but to all the American nations. In the US, I don´t think most people consider themselves linked to South America, so it was interesting to see an almost nationalistic take on the Western hemisphere, something that is much more common here. I also think that the decision to include Spain and Italy says a lot about the self-image of many Argentinians as descended from European colonizers rather than the colonized natives. I don´t want to go too deeply into a complex issue I know little about, but I do find it fascinating that the museum honors the place of Spain and Italy in forming the modern Americas, rather than condemning it, as I would have expected.
We also went to a tiny, charming museum about the river islands on the Rio Paraná, which borders Rosario. Basically, this painter, Raul Dominguez, fell in love with the islands and spent his life painting them, writing books about them, and, at the end, making this museum about them. The museum, now curated by Dominguez´s two sons and wife, was full of great paintings and really interesting recreations of life on the islands at the beginning of the twentieth century. I´ve always found small sub-cultures really interesting, so I knew I would enjoy the museum. But this one was especially great for its genuineness. It was obvious that the people there loved the islands, and, for lack of a less corny phrase, really put their hearts into the museum.
We also decided that we would have our first real Argentinian night: going to a boliche (dance club) at three in the morning and coming home at 7 am for breakfast. This plan was a total failure. We walked to a bar-dance club that the staff at our hostel recommended to us, but when we got to the intersection, we couldn´t find it. However, there was another bar right there, so we just followed the lights, music, and people. Our first clue that this was no ordinary dance club should have been the incredibly invasive, unannounced frisking that each one of us got before entering. Imagine going through airport security, and then multiply it by ten. We walked into the club, and for about ten minutes it was really fun. They were playing great Carribean-influenced pop music. The crowd seemed to be mostly immigrants (which here means Peruvians, Bolivians, Paraguayans, and a few Central Americans), and they were doing cool dances I had never seen. I definitely felt out of place, but I was willing to push past it and get my groove on. We wandered up to the second floor, which had a balcony overlooking the first, and all of the sudden every man in the room seemed to teleport to the balcony at exactly the same time. Still not getting it, my friends and I innocently wandered over to see a girl stripping on the stage below us. Very surprised and very amused, we stood there with our mouths open until the end of the dance. The fun music began to play again, so we thought maybe it was just a strange interlude, but a few minutes later, a man came onstage and did his own strip tease, right down to a very small thong. My friend Bennet and I laughed hysterically while our two male friends looked very uncomfortable. Finally, in the middle of the third dance, which involved the man and the woman together, we decided to leave. It was definitely my funniest night in Argentina so far.
Despite these exciting episodes, the weekend in general was wonderfully relaxing. We sat at cafés along the river, read in parks, and perused craft fairs. We ate incredibly good food (much cheaper in Rosario), including wine with every dinner and the best steak I´ve had in my life. Until this weekend, I didn´t understand what the big deal was with Argentinian steak, but this was mouthwateringly, party-in-my-mouth good. Oh my god. We also met a group of Argentinian college students from Mendoza in our hostel, who gave us their names and numbers and told us to call them if we ever go to Mendoza (which I plan to do). Basically, Rosario just had great vibes, and I enjoyed a lovely weekend there.
Like Buenos Aires, Rosario has heartbreaking outskirts, and a charming center. Actually, Rosario was like a mini-Buenos Aires in almost every way, right up to its central Plaza de Mayo with a pink government building in the middle. Although it had the same gorgeous French architecture, charming cafés and ubiquitous nightlife, Rosario was smaller and more laid-back, with 1 million people to BA´s 3 million (and thirteen million in the metropolitan area). I never though a city of 1 million would feel like a small town to me, but compared to Buenos Aires, it did. It was great to walk down sidewalks and have space to swing my arms, to find a seat on the bus, to wander without fear of getting totally disoriented. Rosario used to be called the Chicago of Argentina for all it´s ties to the mercantile exchange and the cattle industry. But it was like Chicago in other ways: the kindler, gentler counterpart to hectic Buenos Aires, just as Chicago is to New York.
We started off the trip by going to the monument to the flag, a huge tower commemorating the birth of the Argentine flag, designed in Rosario. The monument itself was huge and pleasing to the eyes, if a bit gaudy. The whole area was basically a giant show of nationalism, including a Falkand´s war memorial with the phrase ¨The Falklands, always for Argentina¨ written on it. Most interesting was the design of the one-room museum that housed the first flag. When I walked in, the flags of every American and Carribean country (including the US and Canada) lined the sides, plus a Spanish flag and an Italian one (because Christopher Columbus was born there). At the very end, on its own wall, hung the Argentinian flag. Although the Argentinian flag was bigger and glowing under a light, the museum was not just a tribute to Argentina, but to all the American nations. In the US, I don´t think most people consider themselves linked to South America, so it was interesting to see an almost nationalistic take on the Western hemisphere, something that is much more common here. I also think that the decision to include Spain and Italy says a lot about the self-image of many Argentinians as descended from European colonizers rather than the colonized natives. I don´t want to go too deeply into a complex issue I know little about, but I do find it fascinating that the museum honors the place of Spain and Italy in forming the modern Americas, rather than condemning it, as I would have expected.
We also went to a tiny, charming museum about the river islands on the Rio Paraná, which borders Rosario. Basically, this painter, Raul Dominguez, fell in love with the islands and spent his life painting them, writing books about them, and, at the end, making this museum about them. The museum, now curated by Dominguez´s two sons and wife, was full of great paintings and really interesting recreations of life on the islands at the beginning of the twentieth century. I´ve always found small sub-cultures really interesting, so I knew I would enjoy the museum. But this one was especially great for its genuineness. It was obvious that the people there loved the islands, and, for lack of a less corny phrase, really put their hearts into the museum.
We also decided that we would have our first real Argentinian night: going to a boliche (dance club) at three in the morning and coming home at 7 am for breakfast. This plan was a total failure. We walked to a bar-dance club that the staff at our hostel recommended to us, but when we got to the intersection, we couldn´t find it. However, there was another bar right there, so we just followed the lights, music, and people. Our first clue that this was no ordinary dance club should have been the incredibly invasive, unannounced frisking that each one of us got before entering. Imagine going through airport security, and then multiply it by ten. We walked into the club, and for about ten minutes it was really fun. They were playing great Carribean-influenced pop music. The crowd seemed to be mostly immigrants (which here means Peruvians, Bolivians, Paraguayans, and a few Central Americans), and they were doing cool dances I had never seen. I definitely felt out of place, but I was willing to push past it and get my groove on. We wandered up to the second floor, which had a balcony overlooking the first, and all of the sudden every man in the room seemed to teleport to the balcony at exactly the same time. Still not getting it, my friends and I innocently wandered over to see a girl stripping on the stage below us. Very surprised and very amused, we stood there with our mouths open until the end of the dance. The fun music began to play again, so we thought maybe it was just a strange interlude, but a few minutes later, a man came onstage and did his own strip tease, right down to a very small thong. My friend Bennet and I laughed hysterically while our two male friends looked very uncomfortable. Finally, in the middle of the third dance, which involved the man and the woman together, we decided to leave. It was definitely my funniest night in Argentina so far.
Despite these exciting episodes, the weekend in general was wonderfully relaxing. We sat at cafés along the river, read in parks, and perused craft fairs. We ate incredibly good food (much cheaper in Rosario), including wine with every dinner and the best steak I´ve had in my life. Until this weekend, I didn´t understand what the big deal was with Argentinian steak, but this was mouthwateringly, party-in-my-mouth good. Oh my god. We also met a group of Argentinian college students from Mendoza in our hostel, who gave us their names and numbers and told us to call them if we ever go to Mendoza (which I plan to do). Basically, Rosario just had great vibes, and I enjoyed a lovely weekend there.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Muchísimas Cosas
Once again, after having taken only a short break from writing, I find myself teeming with things to say. As I told my host mom earlier today, everything I do here is a "thing." This can be frustrating when simple tasks like grocery shopping or telling a story require all my concentration. At the same time, this means that everything is new, leaving me filled with observations and thoughts about even my most mundane experiences. To that end, I have much to say about the past few days, during which I've encountered new people, neighborhoods, and classes.
To begin with, Sunday was el Día de los Niños, a holiday here just like mother's and father's day. I planned to go to the zoo with Elvira, Joaquín, Ezekiel (Joaquín's friend), and Ezekiel's mom. We started the morning my going over to their friend's apartment, an exciting place in of itself. Their apartment was huge, about twice the size of ours, and ours is pretty big for densely populated Buenos Aires. It looked like something from a design show: each room was painted a different color, with lots of animal print furniture and plants all over the place. The coolest part was the second floor, which they added themselves by hanging a layer of metal walkways from the ceiling, with mechanically retractable stairs and ladders to go up and down. The family was really nice, and I felt very Argentinian sipping mate and gossiping with Elvira and her friend.
When we arrived at the zoo, it was absolutely packed with people, so we decided to walk around Alto Palermo, a nearby neighborhood. We walked to this street fair (they really like those here), this one for clothing and jewelery. Palermo, particularly Alto Palermo, is a fun part of town. It's very residential, with lots of trees and great French buildings. It's also a huge nightlife center - the only place I've found so far where you can just walk around until you find a bar.
We all went out for lunch together, and Elvira introduced me to asado - Argentinian barbecue, as far as I can gather. Our lunch consisted of platters of meat, far more meat than 5 people should ever ingest in a single sitting. Elvira and her friend just kept putting more meat on my plate and pouring me more glasses of wine, until by the end I just felt tired and woozy. It was fun, and I did like some cuts, but I do not understand how Argentinians eat like this on a regular basis. I did have a really interesting conversation at lunch with Elvira and her friend about education and socialism in the US and Argentina, two things that seem to come up a lot here.
Here are some pictures that Joaquín, the resident photographer here, took of Alto Palermo and the fair.
That last one is not Alto Palermo, but rather the bus ride home. I don't think I'll ever get over how cool my neighborhood is.
Monday was also a day of firsts, most notably my first dance class, not just in Argentina but in my entire life. The class is called "Ritmos y Danzas del Río de la Plata," and I'll learn tango as well as a bunch of folkloric dances. On the first day, we learned El Gato, a supposedly simple dance that I was comically bad at. I have many redeeming qualities, but grace is certainly not one of them, something the teacher certainly reinforced when he stopped class twice to give me extra help. Despite these embarrassments, however, I had a lot of fun in the class, and I think it will be a different way to learn about Argentina. It's certainly outside of my comfort zone, but then again, so is everything in Buenos Aires.
After dance, I had my first History of Argentina class, which I absolutely loved. We spent the first half of class divided into groups of four, discussing the (im)possibility of neutrality in the study of history by reading two different accounts of the military dictatorship in two different newspapers. For about the first half of my group's discussion, I sat there in silent confusion. I could understand the words coming out of their mouths, but I lacked the background to discuss these issues in any sort of sophisticated way. I could barely identify the differences between the two articles' perspectives, much less say something about those differences. However, when the group realized that I was American, they were extremely considerate of me. They went back and explained the context of the conversation, and then made sure to ask me my opinion at regular intervals, just in case. By the end, I did have opinions (just a great deal of trouble expressing them). Although I'll have to do some independent reading in order to follow this class, I think it's going to be really interesting. History totally rocks. Also, I made friends with a girl from my group, and we took the subway back together. She lives about an hour outside the city, like many UBA students, and it was interesting to hear about her daily routine commuting, working, and taking classes. In general, people here have been so nice to me - totally willing to repeat themselves, talk slowly, and show me things, and also, it seems, almost as interested in talking to an American as I am in talking to an Argentinian.
Monday was also my birthday, and I came home to find this on the door, courtesy of Joaquín and Elvira:
Elvira also made me a special birthday dinner, which consisted of, you guessed it, beef. It was actually delicious - she made it fondue style with all these really good sauces, some of which even had meat in them. Gotta love the idea of dipping meat into more meat. I invited Jenny over and it was great to have my whole Argentinian "family" with me on my birthday. Elvira was worried I'd be homesick on my birthday, and she made such an effort to make it special for me. Once again, I realized how lucky I am to live with my host family.
Today, I had my first service learning class, and my first Argentinian Political Thought class. I think both of them are going to be really interesting, but, to be honest, my sleep deprivation caught up with me today, and I didn't absorb as much as I would have liked in either class. More interestingly, I got to go the office of Las Madres de la Plaza de Mayo, basically to learn more about the organization and see if I want to work there or not. We met two of the madres, and they showed us pictures of their disappeared children, and told us about the projects they're currently working on. It's so amazing to think of these little old ladies helping to take down a dictatorship, and still fighting for the same principles today.
And now I'm back at home, living life like a Porteño: out of class at 11 pm and starting my homework at midnight.
Until next time,
Chelsea
To begin with, Sunday was el Día de los Niños, a holiday here just like mother's and father's day. I planned to go to the zoo with Elvira, Joaquín, Ezekiel (Joaquín's friend), and Ezekiel's mom. We started the morning my going over to their friend's apartment, an exciting place in of itself. Their apartment was huge, about twice the size of ours, and ours is pretty big for densely populated Buenos Aires. It looked like something from a design show: each room was painted a different color, with lots of animal print furniture and plants all over the place. The coolest part was the second floor, which they added themselves by hanging a layer of metal walkways from the ceiling, with mechanically retractable stairs and ladders to go up and down. The family was really nice, and I felt very Argentinian sipping mate and gossiping with Elvira and her friend.
When we arrived at the zoo, it was absolutely packed with people, so we decided to walk around Alto Palermo, a nearby neighborhood. We walked to this street fair (they really like those here), this one for clothing and jewelery. Palermo, particularly Alto Palermo, is a fun part of town. It's very residential, with lots of trees and great French buildings. It's also a huge nightlife center - the only place I've found so far where you can just walk around until you find a bar.
We all went out for lunch together, and Elvira introduced me to asado - Argentinian barbecue, as far as I can gather. Our lunch consisted of platters of meat, far more meat than 5 people should ever ingest in a single sitting. Elvira and her friend just kept putting more meat on my plate and pouring me more glasses of wine, until by the end I just felt tired and woozy. It was fun, and I did like some cuts, but I do not understand how Argentinians eat like this on a regular basis. I did have a really interesting conversation at lunch with Elvira and her friend about education and socialism in the US and Argentina, two things that seem to come up a lot here.
Here are some pictures that Joaquín, the resident photographer here, took of Alto Palermo and the fair.
That last one is not Alto Palermo, but rather the bus ride home. I don't think I'll ever get over how cool my neighborhood is.Monday was also a day of firsts, most notably my first dance class, not just in Argentina but in my entire life. The class is called "Ritmos y Danzas del Río de la Plata," and I'll learn tango as well as a bunch of folkloric dances. On the first day, we learned El Gato, a supposedly simple dance that I was comically bad at. I have many redeeming qualities, but grace is certainly not one of them, something the teacher certainly reinforced when he stopped class twice to give me extra help. Despite these embarrassments, however, I had a lot of fun in the class, and I think it will be a different way to learn about Argentina. It's certainly outside of my comfort zone, but then again, so is everything in Buenos Aires.
After dance, I had my first History of Argentina class, which I absolutely loved. We spent the first half of class divided into groups of four, discussing the (im)possibility of neutrality in the study of history by reading two different accounts of the military dictatorship in two different newspapers. For about the first half of my group's discussion, I sat there in silent confusion. I could understand the words coming out of their mouths, but I lacked the background to discuss these issues in any sort of sophisticated way. I could barely identify the differences between the two articles' perspectives, much less say something about those differences. However, when the group realized that I was American, they were extremely considerate of me. They went back and explained the context of the conversation, and then made sure to ask me my opinion at regular intervals, just in case. By the end, I did have opinions (just a great deal of trouble expressing them). Although I'll have to do some independent reading in order to follow this class, I think it's going to be really interesting. History totally rocks. Also, I made friends with a girl from my group, and we took the subway back together. She lives about an hour outside the city, like many UBA students, and it was interesting to hear about her daily routine commuting, working, and taking classes. In general, people here have been so nice to me - totally willing to repeat themselves, talk slowly, and show me things, and also, it seems, almost as interested in talking to an American as I am in talking to an Argentinian.
Monday was also my birthday, and I came home to find this on the door, courtesy of Joaquín and Elvira:
Elvira also made me a special birthday dinner, which consisted of, you guessed it, beef. It was actually delicious - she made it fondue style with all these really good sauces, some of which even had meat in them. Gotta love the idea of dipping meat into more meat. I invited Jenny over and it was great to have my whole Argentinian "family" with me on my birthday. Elvira was worried I'd be homesick on my birthday, and she made such an effort to make it special for me. Once again, I realized how lucky I am to live with my host family.
Today, I had my first service learning class, and my first Argentinian Political Thought class. I think both of them are going to be really interesting, but, to be honest, my sleep deprivation caught up with me today, and I didn't absorb as much as I would have liked in either class. More interestingly, I got to go the office of Las Madres de la Plaza de Mayo, basically to learn more about the organization and see if I want to work there or not. We met two of the madres, and they showed us pictures of their disappeared children, and told us about the projects they're currently working on. It's so amazing to think of these little old ladies helping to take down a dictatorship, and still fighting for the same principles today.
And now I'm back at home, living life like a Porteño: out of class at 11 pm and starting my homework at midnight.
Until next time,
Chelsea
Feliz cumpleaños a mí
I have much updating to do, but I'm far too tired to do it at the moment.
I just wanted to thank everyone (and there were a lot of you) for the happy birthday messages. You people are wonderful.
I just wanted to thank everyone (and there were a lot of you) for the happy birthday messages. You people are wonderful.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Varias Cosas
Although it's only been a few days, I feel like I have so much on which to update you, my surprisingly broad readership. To begin with, Thursday. It was divided neatly into two parts: the horribly frustrating morning at immigrations and the wonderful, FLACSO-sponsored night at Job's Bar.
To give you an idea of how terrible Argentinian immigrations is, my group spent about 6 hours there, and we were lucky. Those assigned to the previous day had waited 12 hours. They actually saw the sun rise and set inside the immigrations office. While waiting, I had two notable interactions, the first one involving a rather smelly Peruvian man attempting to convert me to some form of Christianity, and the second involving a three-year-old Peruvian girl who I played with and practiced my Spanish on while we waited.
That night, the students and staff met at a bar to celebrate the end of orientation and meet the Argentinian participants in our "Grupos de Interés." The grupos are a part of FLACSO in which students choose among three groups - journalism, sports, or arts - and participate in various events with Argentinians of our age who share our interests. Although I'm excited for the events (I'm doing the arts group), I was skeptical about actually meeting Argentinians in such a structured setting. However, Elaine and I ended up talking to two Argentinian members of the journalism group for most of the night, and it was so much fun!
I ended up having a really interesting conversation with one of them about Argentinian history and politics. I was pretty much jumping up and down with excitement the whole time; it was exactly the type of conversation I hoped to have with people here and exactly the way I had hoped to learn about Argentina. The most interesting part was when we were talking about how the rest of the world views Argentina. I said that a lot of people mistakenly see it as a third world country, and, unlike every other Argentinian I've talked to about this, he responded, "it is a third world country." He said that the rest of the country is completely different from Buenos Aires, and that even the poor parts of Buenos Aires don't seem like they belong in a developed country. Although many porteños have told me that Buenos Aires is different from the rest of the country, I'd never heard such an extreme opinion. Hearing this perspective made me want to see other parts of the country even more than I did before.
We also talked about Peronism for awhile. When I asked if they could define Peronism for me, both of them gave the exact same answer that every Argentinian has given me: "Es complicado." Both of them are literature majors, and they told me they'd email me the names of some novels and short stories that, they claim, will help me understand Peronismo more than any non-fiction explanation. One of them also said he'd make me a mix of Argentinian music. Normally, I'd be skeptical about someone following through on such promises, but they'll both be around FLACSO, so at the very least, I'll talk to them more. Perhaps even more exciting than the political conversation, I found out that one of them likes Wilco (my favorite band)! It turns out we had pretty much the exact same taste in music, and that, unsurprisingly, most of these bands were basically unheard of in Argentina. About halfway through these conversations, I realized that I was actually communicating substantial, complicated thoughts in Spanish, and understanding the equally complicated thoughts of someone else. It was so cool.
Today, I was supposed to meet up with Elaine to go to MALBA (Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires), but I accidentally ended up at el Museo de Bellas Artes (the two are quite close). Despite the mix up, I ended up having a lovely afternoon by myself. I often prefer to go to museums alone, because I can go as slowly as I want, which is usually quite slow. It was a very nice museum, with lots of French paintings from all the recent centuries, some great Rodin sculptures, and a whole floor of Argentinian art. To be honest, the Argentinian stuff, or at least their collection, didn't do much for me. It was mostly inferior copies of European styles. However, I liked seeing landscape paintings from all over Argentina, and paintings of colonial-era Buenos Aires with portraits of all the important social/political leaders from that time. Perhaps the best part about the museum was it's quietness and its bountiful space, both rare commodities in this city.
After I left the museum, I wandered around Recoleta, the surrounding neighborhood. I'd only previously seen the residential and commercial sections of Recoleta, but the museum was in the middle of a park, and the next few blocks in every direction were filled with parks and plazas. It was lovely to see some green stuff and sit in the grass and people watch by myself. Unfortunately, my camera died soon after I arrived (I'm not so good at monitoring that), but I'll definitely be back in that neighborhood again.
When I got home, I finally met Elvira's daughter, Cata, who was very nice. I was mostly listening to the conversation between she and Elvira, and it was incredibly exciting to realize that I could understand almost all of it without trying that hard. In generally, I think I've partially overcome my first language hurdle - being completely baffled by the Argentinian/Porteño accent. On a similar note, I learned a hilarious new Spanglish phrase: peace out = paz out. I think that's awesome.
The only bad part of the day: I looked over my schedule, and it turns out I'll most likely have to drop my geography class, and thus not take any classes at UBA filo. I was so excited about that class and campus, but it's simply not worth trading for all the other courses I want. Oh well, perhaps I shall find a way.
Additionally, I enabled anonymous commenting. Just in case you're curious.
Ciao,
Chelsea
To give you an idea of how terrible Argentinian immigrations is, my group spent about 6 hours there, and we were lucky. Those assigned to the previous day had waited 12 hours. They actually saw the sun rise and set inside the immigrations office. While waiting, I had two notable interactions, the first one involving a rather smelly Peruvian man attempting to convert me to some form of Christianity, and the second involving a three-year-old Peruvian girl who I played with and practiced my Spanish on while we waited.
That night, the students and staff met at a bar to celebrate the end of orientation and meet the Argentinian participants in our "Grupos de Interés." The grupos are a part of FLACSO in which students choose among three groups - journalism, sports, or arts - and participate in various events with Argentinians of our age who share our interests. Although I'm excited for the events (I'm doing the arts group), I was skeptical about actually meeting Argentinians in such a structured setting. However, Elaine and I ended up talking to two Argentinian members of the journalism group for most of the night, and it was so much fun!
I ended up having a really interesting conversation with one of them about Argentinian history and politics. I was pretty much jumping up and down with excitement the whole time; it was exactly the type of conversation I hoped to have with people here and exactly the way I had hoped to learn about Argentina. The most interesting part was when we were talking about how the rest of the world views Argentina. I said that a lot of people mistakenly see it as a third world country, and, unlike every other Argentinian I've talked to about this, he responded, "it is a third world country." He said that the rest of the country is completely different from Buenos Aires, and that even the poor parts of Buenos Aires don't seem like they belong in a developed country. Although many porteños have told me that Buenos Aires is different from the rest of the country, I'd never heard such an extreme opinion. Hearing this perspective made me want to see other parts of the country even more than I did before.
We also talked about Peronism for awhile. When I asked if they could define Peronism for me, both of them gave the exact same answer that every Argentinian has given me: "Es complicado." Both of them are literature majors, and they told me they'd email me the names of some novels and short stories that, they claim, will help me understand Peronismo more than any non-fiction explanation. One of them also said he'd make me a mix of Argentinian music. Normally, I'd be skeptical about someone following through on such promises, but they'll both be around FLACSO, so at the very least, I'll talk to them more. Perhaps even more exciting than the political conversation, I found out that one of them likes Wilco (my favorite band)! It turns out we had pretty much the exact same taste in music, and that, unsurprisingly, most of these bands were basically unheard of in Argentina. About halfway through these conversations, I realized that I was actually communicating substantial, complicated thoughts in Spanish, and understanding the equally complicated thoughts of someone else. It was so cool.
Today, I was supposed to meet up with Elaine to go to MALBA (Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires), but I accidentally ended up at el Museo de Bellas Artes (the two are quite close). Despite the mix up, I ended up having a lovely afternoon by myself. I often prefer to go to museums alone, because I can go as slowly as I want, which is usually quite slow. It was a very nice museum, with lots of French paintings from all the recent centuries, some great Rodin sculptures, and a whole floor of Argentinian art. To be honest, the Argentinian stuff, or at least their collection, didn't do much for me. It was mostly inferior copies of European styles. However, I liked seeing landscape paintings from all over Argentina, and paintings of colonial-era Buenos Aires with portraits of all the important social/political leaders from that time. Perhaps the best part about the museum was it's quietness and its bountiful space, both rare commodities in this city.
After I left the museum, I wandered around Recoleta, the surrounding neighborhood. I'd only previously seen the residential and commercial sections of Recoleta, but the museum was in the middle of a park, and the next few blocks in every direction were filled with parks and plazas. It was lovely to see some green stuff and sit in the grass and people watch by myself. Unfortunately, my camera died soon after I arrived (I'm not so good at monitoring that), but I'll definitely be back in that neighborhood again.
When I got home, I finally met Elvira's daughter, Cata, who was very nice. I was mostly listening to the conversation between she and Elvira, and it was incredibly exciting to realize that I could understand almost all of it without trying that hard. In generally, I think I've partially overcome my first language hurdle - being completely baffled by the Argentinian/Porteño accent. On a similar note, I learned a hilarious new Spanglish phrase: peace out = paz out. I think that's awesome.
The only bad part of the day: I looked over my schedule, and it turns out I'll most likely have to drop my geography class, and thus not take any classes at UBA filo. I was so excited about that class and campus, but it's simply not worth trading for all the other courses I want. Oh well, perhaps I shall find a way.
Additionally, I enabled anonymous commenting. Just in case you're curious.
Ciao,
Chelsea
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Wanderings, Wonderings
The past two days have been notable for their relative normalcy. I've had less free time, and am thus having my first experiences just living in the city. I won't pretend that this in any way feels like home, but it's definitely been a new dynamic.I spent yesterday attending various orientation events, eating lunch with friends, going to the gym, and meeting up with Jenny at a bar with friends from each of our programs. Although the bar was very loud and very American (right down to the bartenders), it was fun to sit and talk with friends, and hear some good music (Queen and Sublime in Buenos Aires - I was so excited!). While there, we had a great conversation about language, communication, and everything our short time here has made us realize about them. For me at least, it was one of those really great interactions wherein you realize your own opinion on an issue through talking to someone else about it. Here's a summary of what we talked about and what I've been thinking about generally:
1. It's amazing how much of two different languages can be translated almost exactly. I find it fascinating that people in different parts of the world all needed to come up with ways to say the same things, whether basic or quite complicated. I'm not sure if I'd feel this way if I were studying a language that shared fewer roots with English. At the same time, despite the coincidences, there are also all these divergences between the two languages; some things simply cannot be translated adequately. I'm perhaps more fascinated by what these differences say about the people using their respective languages to communicate. At the same time, I haven't spent enough time here to really understand the connotations of those colloquial phrases, so I imagine this is a topic to which I'll return.
2. We also talked more generally about the amazing capacity humans have for language. All of us have had the experience of watching small children speak Spanish effortlessly (and feeling more than a bit jealous). Seeing these kids speak with the pronunciation I'm striving so hard to achieve makes me realize how intrinsic one's own language is. It is physically difficult for me to move my mouth in a way appropriate to Spanish pronunciation, and I see Argentinians having the exact same problem when they try to speak English. Similarly, when I see two Argentinians talking to one another in Spanish, I have trouble comprehending that this is their version of speaking English, that this feels as comfortable and natural to them as English does to me.
3. I never before considered all the subtle, unspoken cues we send to one another through our specific manner of using language. Austin and I spent a good five minutes picking apart my use of the phrase "it's a bit much." In using words that are ever so slightly more formal than one would typically use, we make subtle jokes that say to the other person, "I'm intelligent. I'm witty. I know how to re-arrange words for our mutual amusement without even interrupting the flow of the conversation." In English, our conversations happen on several levels, most of them unspoken and barely conscious. In Spanish, we simply do not have access to this type of interaction. A successful interaction here consists of telling a story with more than two tenses, or pronouncing difficult words such that porteños can still understand them. While this definitely frustrates me, it is not entirely bad. I'm learning as much about English as Spanish, and thus as much about my culture as this one. So corny, but so the point of this, right?
Today was less structured, since I had little to do at FLACSO, so I ate breakfast/lunch with
Bennet, attended the 20 minutes of orientation that applied to me, and then commenced my plan of wandering around San Telmo. I went into a bookstore called La Librería de Avila, that, according to the pamphlet they gave me, has occupied that spot in some form or another since 1785. Elvira pointed it out to me on our walk around the neighborhood a few days ago, because it is known for having lots of books specific to Buenos Aires, Argentina, and Latin America. I bought two books, Buenos Aires Negra and Buenos Aires Ídish, respectively about the historic influence and place of black and Jewish culture in Argentina. I loved the feel of the bookstore in general, and I'm really excited about my purchases. After a bit more wandering, I spent the afternoon reading a packet I received from the teacher of Cuestiones Culturales en la Historia Argentina. Although I'm almost sure I'll drop that class, it sounds really interesting, and I'll take any opportunity to boost my embarrassingly meager knowledge of Argentinian history.The pictures spread throughout this post are my attempt to capture my neighborhood. Although this is a particularly charming section of Buenos Aires, I've noticed that, even in the more modern, commercial areas, beautiful buildings tend to pop up among the nondescript gray and white slabs. It's pretty cool.
Hasta pronto,
Chelsea
Monday, August 4, 2008
Seconds and Firsts
I spent my second Sunday in a row at La Ferría de San Telmo, this time with new friends Austin and Elaine (both pictured in previous post). No mom, I didn't buy anything (besides an empanada), but it's a fun place to people watch and enjoy cobblestone streets and old buildings. We wandered off of Calle Defensa, the site of all the vendors, and saw sidestreets I'd not yet ventured down. I made a resolution to come back on a less busy day and wander. Also, as promised, here is a picture of el Cabildo, site of the first Argentinian revolution. Have I mentioned that my neighborhood is awesome?
The next picture is a Jesuit Church in my neighborhood (one church of about a bajillion within ten blocks of me). 
Today was full of firsts, including most notably my first time going to a new place without getting lost (and three of them at that!). Even more exciting, I had my first class. Since classes have now officially begun, I think the time has come for me to explain the various schools I can access while here. I am technically studying abroad through CIEE, a private American company that has programs all over the world. However, in this program, CIEE basically acts as my liaison to FLACSO (Facultad Latinoamericana de Ciencias Sociales), a graduate school, funded in large part by the UN, that has one undergrad program: CIEE. Through FLACSO, I can take classes at any combination of four institutions: FLACSO, UBA (Universidad de Buenos Aires), UCA (Pontificia Universidad Católica), and IUNA (Instituto Universitario Nacional del Arte).
FLACSO is very well-respected academically, and pretty much every class they're offering sounds fascinating. They're all designed for Americans, which means they don't require any background in Argentinian history and culture. In some ways, I'd probably learn the most from taking classes at FLACSO. At the same time, all the students are American, so in other ways I'd learn less. I'm going to compromise and take one class there, a service learning seminar, because they give us the opportunity to work with Las Madres de La Plaza de Mayo, and that is totally awesome.
UBA is a HUGE public university. It has no campus, but rather consists of a bunch of buildings spread throughout the city. Students usually work at least 6 hours a day and live at home with their families, up to an hour outside the city, further limiting campus life. Because all Argentinians can attend for free, UBA is wildly underfunded. Right now, 30,000 professors teach there for free or for only a nominal salary. According to the Argentinians I've talked to (i.e. Elvira and the FLACSO staff), these professors consider it an honor to teach at UBA, because, despite its lack of basic resources, it is one of the best schools in Argentina. They also believe in the importance of free university, so much so that they're willing to make real sacrifices to make it happen. Apparently, a former minister of education had to resign because his plan to make Argentinians pay for higher education was so unpopular. Incidentally, most FLACSO professors get their salaries from FLACSO but also teach at UBA. I think it's amazing that so many Argentinians value education so highly; 30,000 people would never work for free in America.
Within UBA, I can take classes in Filosofía y Letras, Ciencias Sociales, and Ciencias Económicas, each of which encompasses several majors (although I don't qualify for economics, which requires terrible things like higher math). According to the people at FLACSO, we will meet every kind of person at UBA, but quite a few who are the first in their family to attend college, and who have made lots of sacrifices to get there. Right now, only 50% of Argentinians attend college. UBA students, they said, are only there if they want to be, and this makes it a more intellectual place than, for example, UCA. Finally, they told us that UBA, especially Filosofía y Letras, is the last bastion of real leftist thinking in Argentina among both students and professors.
UCA, in contrast, is smaller (although still 30,000 students), private, and Catholic. Although many of the professors are liberal (and, not coincidentally, shared with UBA), the institution is more conservative. There is a dress code, and students have to take finals in formal attire. Elvira told me that every student there is blond. Although some attend UCA simply because it has a major UBA lacks, UCA students are generally wealthier, and many attend university because their family expects it of them. On the flip side, UCA has much nicer facilities, and even university funded student organizations. However, I decided not to take any classes at UCA, because the campus climate just doesn't appeal to me as much. Interestingly, despite its greater resources, UCA seems to garner less respect academically than UBA - basically the opposite of schools in America.
IUNA, the last school, is one of the best art schools in the country. Obviously, I have no business attending.
My class today, Social Geography of Latin America, was at UBA Filosofía y Letras. The FLACSO staff described UBA Filo as a combination of hippies and black-coffee-drinking- cigarette-smoking intellectuals, and oh boy were they accurate. Every wall in the building, including the exterior, is covered with either pamphlets or paintings, uniformly having something to do with socialism or an upcoming concert.
However, nothing else about my class today was what I expected - in a good way. The FLACSO staff told us to expect overcrowded classrooms and frustrated professors with little interest in teacher-student interaction. However, my class was tiny, about 12 people (almost half of them American, unfortunately), with a welcoming professor who gave us her email address and said she wanted a discussion- based class. They also told us that the professors would resent the presence of American students, people who, in their minds, don't deserve the privilege of the Argentinian education they're working so hard to provide. However, my professor made a point of saying she likes foreign students, as well as non-geography majors, for the diversity they bring to discussion. For various logistical reasons, I think there will be more people in the next class, but it will still be tiny by UBA standards. Overall, it looks like it's going to be an awesome class, and I'm so excited to get started.
Geekily yours,
Chelsea
The next picture is a Jesuit Church in my neighborhood (one church of about a bajillion within ten blocks of me). 
Today was full of firsts, including most notably my first time going to a new place without getting lost (and three of them at that!). Even more exciting, I had my first class. Since classes have now officially begun, I think the time has come for me to explain the various schools I can access while here. I am technically studying abroad through CIEE, a private American company that has programs all over the world. However, in this program, CIEE basically acts as my liaison to FLACSO (Facultad Latinoamericana de Ciencias Sociales), a graduate school, funded in large part by the UN, that has one undergrad program: CIEE. Through FLACSO, I can take classes at any combination of four institutions: FLACSO, UBA (Universidad de Buenos Aires), UCA (Pontificia Universidad Católica), and IUNA (Instituto Universitario Nacional del Arte).
FLACSO is very well-respected academically, and pretty much every class they're offering sounds fascinating. They're all designed for Americans, which means they don't require any background in Argentinian history and culture. In some ways, I'd probably learn the most from taking classes at FLACSO. At the same time, all the students are American, so in other ways I'd learn less. I'm going to compromise and take one class there, a service learning seminar, because they give us the opportunity to work with Las Madres de La Plaza de Mayo, and that is totally awesome.
UBA is a HUGE public university. It has no campus, but rather consists of a bunch of buildings spread throughout the city. Students usually work at least 6 hours a day and live at home with their families, up to an hour outside the city, further limiting campus life. Because all Argentinians can attend for free, UBA is wildly underfunded. Right now, 30,000 professors teach there for free or for only a nominal salary. According to the Argentinians I've talked to (i.e. Elvira and the FLACSO staff), these professors consider it an honor to teach at UBA, because, despite its lack of basic resources, it is one of the best schools in Argentina. They also believe in the importance of free university, so much so that they're willing to make real sacrifices to make it happen. Apparently, a former minister of education had to resign because his plan to make Argentinians pay for higher education was so unpopular. Incidentally, most FLACSO professors get their salaries from FLACSO but also teach at UBA. I think it's amazing that so many Argentinians value education so highly; 30,000 people would never work for free in America.
Within UBA, I can take classes in Filosofía y Letras, Ciencias Sociales, and Ciencias Económicas, each of which encompasses several majors (although I don't qualify for economics, which requires terrible things like higher math). According to the people at FLACSO, we will meet every kind of person at UBA, but quite a few who are the first in their family to attend college, and who have made lots of sacrifices to get there. Right now, only 50% of Argentinians attend college. UBA students, they said, are only there if they want to be, and this makes it a more intellectual place than, for example, UCA. Finally, they told us that UBA, especially Filosofía y Letras, is the last bastion of real leftist thinking in Argentina among both students and professors.
UCA, in contrast, is smaller (although still 30,000 students), private, and Catholic. Although many of the professors are liberal (and, not coincidentally, shared with UBA), the institution is more conservative. There is a dress code, and students have to take finals in formal attire. Elvira told me that every student there is blond. Although some attend UCA simply because it has a major UBA lacks, UCA students are generally wealthier, and many attend university because their family expects it of them. On the flip side, UCA has much nicer facilities, and even university funded student organizations. However, I decided not to take any classes at UCA, because the campus climate just doesn't appeal to me as much. Interestingly, despite its greater resources, UCA seems to garner less respect academically than UBA - basically the opposite of schools in America.
IUNA, the last school, is one of the best art schools in the country. Obviously, I have no business attending.
My class today, Social Geography of Latin America, was at UBA Filosofía y Letras. The FLACSO staff described UBA Filo as a combination of hippies and black-coffee-drinking- cigarette-smoking intellectuals, and oh boy were they accurate. Every wall in the building, including the exterior, is covered with either pamphlets or paintings, uniformly having something to do with socialism or an upcoming concert.
However, nothing else about my class today was what I expected - in a good way. The FLACSO staff told us to expect overcrowded classrooms and frustrated professors with little interest in teacher-student interaction. However, my class was tiny, about 12 people (almost half of them American, unfortunately), with a welcoming professor who gave us her email address and said she wanted a discussion- based class. They also told us that the professors would resent the presence of American students, people who, in their minds, don't deserve the privilege of the Argentinian education they're working so hard to provide. However, my professor made a point of saying she likes foreign students, as well as non-geography majors, for the diversity they bring to discussion. For various logistical reasons, I think there will be more people in the next class, but it will still be tiny by UBA standards. Overall, it looks like it's going to be an awesome class, and I'm so excited to get started.
Geekily yours,
Chelsea
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Aventuras en Montserrat y San Telmo
Joaquín is spending the weekend in the country with his dad, so Elvira took me on a tour of our neighborhood yesterday, explaining the history behind all the old, colonial buildings. Although I'd seen most of these buildings in passing, I'd never really noticed how beautiful a lot of them are.
This was at the National Student Center, also the best high school in the country, according to Elvira. La Noche de los Lapices (Night of the Pencils) refers to a protest students carried out in 1976 demanding free bus passes. The military regime subsequently kidnapped and tortured a bunch of the student protestors.
This is me with some guards at the Buenos Aires municipal government/cultural center. I am so cool.
Cultural center again
The British bank
City Cathedral
La Casa Rosada (the president's house)
As you can tell, it was a gorgeous day.
This is a statue of San Martín, a national hero here, who liberated Argentina from the colonists
The national bank and a government ministry. I really like this corner.
Me and Elvira
Unfortunately, I failed to get a picture of the most interesting building, the site of the first Argentinian revolution against colonial powers. Although it was unsuccessful, it was, according to Elvira, very historically important in planting the seed of independence in Argentina. Expect photos of that later. In conclusion, my neighborhood is so cool!
That night at dinner, I had a fascinating conversation with Elvira. She asked me about my impressions of Argentina thus far, because most Americans expect a far less developed country than they find. I attempted to explain to her a vague idea I've been considering about the likeness between Argentina and France, particularly in terms of government and intellectual life, something I'll probably explain more fully on here when I can. We ended up talking about Argentinian democracy, education, and socialism, and the similarities and difference between Argentina and America.
It's also fascinating to be in a country where political violence and dictatorship is not just an abstract concept, but a very recent memory. I keep unwittingly stumbling upon the topic of the military regime in talking with Elvira, mostly because it's nearly impossible for her to talk about her life without mentioning it. Last night, for example, when we were on the topic of universities, I asked her where she went to school. She explained to me that the government shut down Universidad de Buenos Aires' Filosofía y Letras department, so she had to switch to a private school. Because I really didn't know what to say, I responded, "Es muy interesante." She replied, "No. Fue horrible."
After dinner, I met up with Bennet for drinks at a bar/restaurant in our neighborhood. It's so nice to have someone I really enjoy spending time with so close. Neither of us wanted to go far or stay out for long, so we just met up for about two hours. Although the neighborhood is supposed to be hopping on Saturday nights, it was 30 degrees out and pretty empty. I'm excited for the weather to warm up - I think it makes the city a lot more exciting and quite a bit safer.
In other news, if anyone knows how to make my pictures right side up, please tell me.
Hasta luego,
Chelsea
This was at the National Student Center, also the best high school in the country, according to Elvira. La Noche de los Lapices (Night of the Pencils) refers to a protest students carried out in 1976 demanding free bus passes. The military regime subsequently kidnapped and tortured a bunch of the student protestors.
This is me with some guards at the Buenos Aires municipal government/cultural center. I am so cool.
Cultural center again
The British bank
City Cathedral
La Casa Rosada (the president's house)
As you can tell, it was a gorgeous day.
This is a statue of San Martín, a national hero here, who liberated Argentina from the colonists
The national bank and a government ministry. I really like this corner.
Me and ElviraUnfortunately, I failed to get a picture of the most interesting building, the site of the first Argentinian revolution against colonial powers. Although it was unsuccessful, it was, according to Elvira, very historically important in planting the seed of independence in Argentina. Expect photos of that later. In conclusion, my neighborhood is so cool!
That night at dinner, I had a fascinating conversation with Elvira. She asked me about my impressions of Argentina thus far, because most Americans expect a far less developed country than they find. I attempted to explain to her a vague idea I've been considering about the likeness between Argentina and France, particularly in terms of government and intellectual life, something I'll probably explain more fully on here when I can. We ended up talking about Argentinian democracy, education, and socialism, and the similarities and difference between Argentina and America.
It's also fascinating to be in a country where political violence and dictatorship is not just an abstract concept, but a very recent memory. I keep unwittingly stumbling upon the topic of the military regime in talking with Elvira, mostly because it's nearly impossible for her to talk about her life without mentioning it. Last night, for example, when we were on the topic of universities, I asked her where she went to school. She explained to me that the government shut down Universidad de Buenos Aires' Filosofía y Letras department, so she had to switch to a private school. Because I really didn't know what to say, I responded, "Es muy interesante." She replied, "No. Fue horrible."
After dinner, I met up with Bennet for drinks at a bar/restaurant in our neighborhood. It's so nice to have someone I really enjoy spending time with so close. Neither of us wanted to go far or stay out for long, so we just met up for about two hours. Although the neighborhood is supposed to be hopping on Saturday nights, it was 30 degrees out and pretty empty. I'm excited for the weather to warm up - I think it makes the city a lot more exciting and quite a bit safer.
In other news, if anyone knows how to make my pictures right side up, please tell me.
Hasta luego,
Chelsea
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Jews, Jazz y Más
Yesterday started with orientation at UCA (Pontificia Universidad Católica Argentina), one of the several institutions I'll be able to take classes at this semester. The differences among them are quite interesting, but I will save that for another post. Suffice it to say, however, that this is the conservative Catholic school. You could not look at a single wall without seeing Jesus, usually bleeding on a cross. Although I had little interest in taking classes there, I came for orientation just to see it, and also to walk around the neighborhood, Puerto Madero.
Puerto Madero is Buenos Aires' newest neighborhood. It is (unsurprisingly) a former port, but now five star hotels, fancy restaurants, ritzy apartment buildings, and UCA occupy the former warehouse buildings. It is right on the river, on the edge of BA, so there are lots of cool water views. On the very edge of Puerto Madero begins la Reserva Ecológica, a huge nature reserve on the edge of the city (see photos below). None of it looks all that pretty in the photos, because it's the middle of winter here. However, with a little sunshine and a bit more human activity, I think this would be a great neighborhood.
These are some seemingly random but nice looking structures we found at the edge of the nature reserve.
Un puente muy cool (yes, that's their word for cool too!)
A pirate ship, obvi
After exploring Puerto Madero for awhile, we (me and some kids from my program) walked to Café Tortoni. For those who don't know, Café Tortoni is this super famous (at least in
Argentina), old café/tango bar, which has generally been a center of Argentinian culture since the beginning of the 20th century. There were pictures all over the walls of Buenos Aires circa 1900 and of all the famous people that have come to Café Tortoni since then. I also got to watch tango lessons going on in the back room. While there, we had a really nice conversation about being homesick, leaving loved ones/significant others, and the frustrations of being constantly unable to satisfactorily communicate. I'm having a great time, but the thought of being here for five months can be daunting sometimes, and it was nice to acknowledge that we are all in the same boat.
After a very long lunch, we went back to FLACSO for course registration. On the walk back, in what was by far my biggest accomplishment of the day (my life?), I led the whole group there without a map. Even though the walk consisted of taking two streets for about ten blocks each, it totally made my day.
After orientation ended, I went to a synagogue I found here, Paso 423. Although I don't go with any regularity at home, I thought it might be a nice way to meet some Argentinians, and I was also curious about the Jewish community here. The temple was huge, in a beautiful old building. At the service, they had a male and female cantor (singer) and also a pianist and flutist. Almost the entire service consisted of them singing really beautiful versions of various prayers, most of which I'd never heard (the melodies that is, not the prayers themselves). Most interestingly, there were tons of pamphlets for events memorializing the victims of a car bomb attack at a Jewish center here in 1994. It's obviously a huge issue in the Jewish community here, but something we never talk about in America. Although I really enjoyed the service, Elvira recommended a different temple to me, and I think I'll try that one the next time I go. Overall, though, it was great to find something at least somewhat familiar in a place that is so different.
After the service, I met up with some friends from my program at a bar in the Palermo neighborhood. Palermo is a largely residential neighborhood, filled with parks and lots of bars/clubs. We chose the bar because Jason, a jazz pianist friend from the program, was playing at a jam session there. It had cool paintings on the walls, good music (including the live jazz), and a generally laid back ambiance, all of which I liked a lot. I ended up sitting at a table with a few people from my program, some Argentinian members of the band, and a very nice Venezuelan guy, who couldn't stop talking about how badly he wanted to move to America. The night was a lot of fun, although I still need to adjust to the crazy hours they keep here. I left the bar at 4 am and it was still packed.
Until next time,
Chelsea
Puerto Madero is Buenos Aires' newest neighborhood. It is (unsurprisingly) a former port, but now five star hotels, fancy restaurants, ritzy apartment buildings, and UCA occupy the former warehouse buildings. It is right on the river, on the edge of BA, so there are lots of cool water views. On the very edge of Puerto Madero begins la Reserva Ecológica, a huge nature reserve on the edge of the city (see photos below). None of it looks all that pretty in the photos, because it's the middle of winter here. However, with a little sunshine and a bit more human activity, I think this would be a great neighborhood.
These are some seemingly random but nice looking structures we found at the edge of the nature reserve.
Un puente muy cool (yes, that's their word for cool too!)
A pirate ship, obviAfter exploring Puerto Madero for awhile, we (me and some kids from my program) walked to Café Tortoni. For those who don't know, Café Tortoni is this super famous (at least in
Argentina), old café/tango bar, which has generally been a center of Argentinian culture since the beginning of the 20th century. There were pictures all over the walls of Buenos Aires circa 1900 and of all the famous people that have come to Café Tortoni since then. I also got to watch tango lessons going on in the back room. While there, we had a really nice conversation about being homesick, leaving loved ones/significant others, and the frustrations of being constantly unable to satisfactorily communicate. I'm having a great time, but the thought of being here for five months can be daunting sometimes, and it was nice to acknowledge that we are all in the same boat.
After a very long lunch, we went back to FLACSO for course registration. On the walk back, in what was by far my biggest accomplishment of the day (my life?), I led the whole group there without a map. Even though the walk consisted of taking two streets for about ten blocks each, it totally made my day.After orientation ended, I went to a synagogue I found here, Paso 423. Although I don't go with any regularity at home, I thought it might be a nice way to meet some Argentinians, and I was also curious about the Jewish community here. The temple was huge, in a beautiful old building. At the service, they had a male and female cantor (singer) and also a pianist and flutist. Almost the entire service consisted of them singing really beautiful versions of various prayers, most of which I'd never heard (the melodies that is, not the prayers themselves). Most interestingly, there were tons of pamphlets for events memorializing the victims of a car bomb attack at a Jewish center here in 1994. It's obviously a huge issue in the Jewish community here, but something we never talk about in America. Although I really enjoyed the service, Elvira recommended a different temple to me, and I think I'll try that one the next time I go. Overall, though, it was great to find something at least somewhat familiar in a place that is so different.
After the service, I met up with some friends from my program at a bar in the Palermo neighborhood. Palermo is a largely residential neighborhood, filled with parks and lots of bars/clubs. We chose the bar because Jason, a jazz pianist friend from the program, was playing at a jam session there. It had cool paintings on the walls, good music (including the live jazz), and a generally laid back ambiance, all of which I liked a lot. I ended up sitting at a table with a few people from my program, some Argentinian members of the band, and a very nice Venezuelan guy, who couldn't stop talking about how badly he wanted to move to America. The night was a lot of fun, although I still need to adjust to the crazy hours they keep here. I left the bar at 4 am and it was still packed.
Until next time,
Chelsea
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