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  Rosario, Argentina
Tuesday, September 23, 2008

I guess it´s been a while since I wrote last.  The weeks have been flying by-- already going into our fourth week of classes.  Yesterday made 3 weeks that I´ve been in Argentina.  And I´m loving it. 

Let´s see. every Sunday (so far) I go to la feria, or the fair, with my girlfriends here.  It´s more like a market place that sells lots of artesan-ish artsy things.  They sell lots of matés (the gourds from which you consume maté), paintings, leather goods, incense and incense holders, and lots and lots of jewelry (semi-precious stones, silver, and copper).  Sammie has gotten some cool things for her boyfriend back home-- a hunting knife engraved with his name, a woodburned rack on which to hang his keys.  Everything is relatively cheap here-- especially the leather goods.  And the merchants, if you will, are there every Sunday.  There´s lots of handcrafted everything.  And all the vendors have black teeth and dreadlocks.  That´s actually a generalization, something we, as humans, should attempt to avoid.  I apologize.  MOST of the vendors have black teeth and dreadlocks..  The others are working on it.

Oh, I got pooped on a bird.  Walking down the street with my friend Sammie, I felt something very warm on my hand and it turned out to be droppings from a bird.  Um, yuck.

Yesterday was Mora (the dog)´s birthday.  She turned 9 years old.  My mom made a chicken ¨cake¨ for her.  It was weird.  I probably would have eaten it myself, though.  She´s a fabulous dog.  Mora is. 

This past weekend, I went out a few nights with my friends Sammie, Lily, and Maarja (pronounced Marrya, by the by). We went to a reggae bar called ¨Roots.¨ We had a few very fun, fruity, girly drinks there.  It plays reggae music and there are two levels:  the first level is just tables and chairs (and very nearly NO illumination.  we had to read our drink menus by the calming light from our cell phones) and up the stairs is an open room with just bean bag chairs.  Very...ummmm reggae?  The bar is located right next to a hostel, of which there aren´t too many in Rosario. In Buenos Aires, there are a TON.  We were sitting at our table talking, and a young man came over to our table, mentioned that he heard us speaking English, and pleaded with us to join our very English conversation.  He was 25, named John, and was from South Africa.  He had a fabulous accent, and had been traveling around the world for the past FIVE YEARS.  How does anyone fund a five-year trek around the world?  We couldn´t figure it out.  As politely as possible, we pried and pried, but still couldn´t figure it out.  Well, John from South Africa wanted to talk AMerican politics with us.  We´d had a few drinks, and talked politics for as long as we could before politely making up some random excuse to leave.  Daiquiris + US Politics/Economy = instant buzz kill.  We left the bar and went to our favorite spot here, the Malteria.  We eat there a bit-- the meals and drinks are very reasonably priced-- and so we had a bite to eat and another drink there.

Most of the servers there are incredibly nice, but some are terrible. Our favorite is Paul (pronounced Pah-ool), who is about 23, I think, and from a small Argnentian town.  He came here a few months ago because he wanted to live in the city.  We think he´s like a host or semething-- but can´t figure out exactly what he does, as he never seems to be actually doing work while we´re there.  He´s usually talking to us and trying to learn English.  He´s very nice, and very polite, and always hails cabs for us to get home.  One of the very few gentlemen in Rosario.

So we go to the Malteria a lot.  We also go to the ice cream places.  Ever been to a Coldstone and experienced the heavenly creaminess of their ice cream?  Imagine that-- only in 53 different flavors-- and about one-fifth of the price.  It´s fabulous.  Sammie and I are determined to try each flavor at least once.  They have crema borracha, or ¨drunken cream¨ ice cream.  Interesting?  Yes.  Good? Only if you enjoy mixing your ice cream with whiskey. 

Because we go to the malteria and to the ice cream places, we have to head to the gym a lot.  I´ve already written a bit about the gym, but I experienced something new there this past week.  One day I went to a spinning class-- talk about one of the hardest workouts I´ve ever experienced.  For those of you who don´t know, spinning is where you´re on a simple stationary bike with adjustable level of difficulty.  You rarely actually sit on the seat, always moving up (arriba), down, (abajo), back (atrás), and forward (adelante).  It´s very hard.  Especially in Spanish.  And they ahve a fabulous mix of music-- from Spanish cumbia to Christina Aguilera to Night at the Roxbury disco to Grease soundtrack.  It´s great.  And then on Thursday, I went with Sammie and Lily to a tae-bo class taught by a petite man named Sebastián.  They´d gone the week before and sworn to me that I woudn´t regret it.  It was, by far, one of the FUNNNNNNEST things I´ve ever done.  Just kicking and punching and dancing (??)  the whole time.  It actually felt like we should be in 2nd grade gym class.  Then he teaches us a gangster dance routine and we have to ¨battle¨ with dance.  Then we get in a giant circle and do a cha-cha line.  Then we run like crazy around the room and he finds a small girl and puts her on his shoulder so the song ends in a ¨bang,¨ as he says.  Then he turns on Barry White and dances for a bit.  I think my abs got the greatest workout from laughing so hard.  But don´t get me wrong-- the whole class was an incredible workout.  We were all pretty sure Sebastián was as gay as it gets.  But I saw him in the gym yesterday morning as well with his one-and-one-half-year-old daughter.  Anyway, he´s great-- super nice guy who loves the Americanas that come to his class so he can pick on them-- and he even remembers our names.  I´d recommend that class to anyone.

My classes are going well-- I´m taking four.  Grammar, Conversation, Marketing, and Management.  Grammar is good-- I actually do really well in that.  Conversation is all right-- it´s just a lot of reading, which is difficult for me as I read incredibly slowly.  The teacher gives us an article to read and discuss.  Within minutes, she asks ¨¿Terminaron?¨ (Done?)  They all reply yes, and I wonder how they got through those 5 paragraphs so quickly when I´m halfway through my first paragraph.  They must be brilliant.  So that´s a bit difficult-- and not much that take-home homework will help with.  But I do need to practice my reading.  My goodest friend back home, Jessica, read a book on our trip to Guatemala that she recommended that I read-- ¨The Last LEcture¨ by Randy Pausch.  I took the liberty of buying said book, only in Spanish, and am working on that.  It´s taking me a while-- read 3 words, look up 2 words.  I bought it last week, and I´m already in the middle of the 3rd page.  But I know it´s going to help me.  My management class is all right-- kind of boring, and only 2 of us in the class.  Talk about being put on the spot.  All the time.  My marketing class is fabulous.  The professor is great, and incredibly humorous.  Half the two-hour class is pure laughter, mixed with a bit of education.  Not a bad mix, I´d say. 

So I had this grand idea for a while .  Normally i wouldn´t divulge such fabulous information, but I´ll go ahead.  I decided a couple years ago-- why is champagne only manufactured in glass bottles?  It should be manufactured in cans as well.  If carbonation can be maintained in aluminum cans for soda, then why can´t it be used for champagne?  I was going to patent this and call it ¨Can-pagne:  for when you want to celebrate but you just don´t feel fancy.¨   A while ago, I was reading a magazine and found an advertisement for canned wine, found ONLY in upscale bars and wineries in Argentina.  I asked my marketing professor about them, and he told me about a store I should check out to find said canned wine.  Oh, that canned wine.  And then in my marketing class, this girl Marcie told me that my canned champagne´s being manufactured in Europe, and they´re trying to market it in the States.  Talk about a low blow.  A low blow AND A HALF.  Dreams are shattered, but I´ll be fine.  I have more ideas, don´t worry.  But I´m not going to tell them to you.

So I really want some milk.  It´s been almost a month since I´ve even tasted milk.  Does ice cream count?  I guess, Mom, you can rest assured that I AM getting some calcium.  Even if it´s got a ton of sugar in it.  Oh, and whiskey too.  Anyway, the dairy section of their grocery store is something to write home about.  It´s like bags and bags of milk.  Yes, bags.  Apparently they´re cheaper to manufacture.  I didn´t even know how to use a bag of milk.  Apparently you have to buy this tough plastic box thing to put your bag of milk in in order to store and pour it.  Stupid.  But it´s cheap.  And ultra-pasteurized.  My mom has an open bag of milk in our fridge, but I don´t think I´ve seen anyone drink milk here in the past 3 weeks.  I think the milk here will last for the entirety of the time I´m here.  I don´t care.  I´m going to drink it.  EVen if it gives me 3 more toes.  I just want milk.  I could write a sonnet about milk at this point. I could drink 42 oz. of milk.  Just pure milk. 

Oh, Sunday was the first day of spring. It was great-- lots and lots of people out and about.  It was also El Día de los Estudiantes, or ¨Students´ Day.¨   People were EVERYWHERE.  They just set up camp on the lawn of the many parks here.  I just about bought 2 bags of milk and joined them.  But the grass here´s very dry.  IT hasn´t rained here in 7 months, and we´re here for their worst drought in 106 years.  Imagine how dry everything looks.

But you can´t see it, because I´ve been snapping away with my camera but my memory card and card reader in order to upload the pics to my computer were both stolen.  I´m taking pictures, and will soon get another memory card and a reader to share my experiences with you all.  It will just be a while.  Please stay patient, and please don´t get bored with only my little stories to keep you occupied.

Food´s still fabulous here.  My mom keeps cooking away.  I´m definitely not going hungry.  Last night she made this fabulous chicken with a white wine sauce and it was TO DIE FOR.  She makes pies (lemon meringue, strawberry, etc. etc).  Be jealous.  It´s great.  I´m not going to attempt modesty when raving about my food here.  Sitting at the dinner table is something different too.  I´m learning to eat with a fork and knife.  Sounds funny, right?  But people eat really differently here.  And it´s rude to put your hands in your lap.  You must put your hands ABOVE the table, with the area between your wrists and elbows resting lightly on the edge of the table.  Not that my family really cares, but they said it´s protocol if you´re eating in public.  And it´s true too.  you can always tell an American.  He or she is the person with their hands in their lap, inviting questions from the Argentines staring at them.

Well, I´ve got to go now.  Mom´ll be cooking dinner in about an hour and we´ll be eating in about two (haha, the point is that it´s already 8:00 PM).  And I don´t want to miss my show, Por Amor a Vos.  It seems that yesterday, the two janitors ran into one another at a party and they´re in love, but both married to someone else, and their spouses catch them talking at the party.  And then Jasmín, as far as I can tell, is pregnant.  But we don´t know.  And will León ever win her over?  Or will she continue to think they´re brother and sister?  THESE BLANKETY BLANK SPANISH TV SHOWS!!! I´m so addicted. 

That´s all.  Write more tomorrow.

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