Iguazu: Nothing else can ever be beautiful

Ok...well maybe I won't go that far. On second thoiught, maybe I will. Because I'm not sure that anything on this earth can capture the meaning of beauty the way these falls can. They are simply beyond. Beyond anything I have ever seen or experienced.

This is the shoddiest post ever, but I wanted to post a few pictures before I have to board my plane and Lord knows if Ill ever have internet on my computer ever again. Immediately below are Las Cataratas (aka the falls). ENJOY!

I PROMISE to add more to the dialogue of this post, but while I have internet on my computer, I want to bring you the pictures. (There are also pictures added to my Mendoza post!)

La Garganta del Diablo (the Devils Throat):

As promised, I bring you the details of my Iguazu adventure. Wednesday I decided to seize the day and go straigth to the falls for the afternoon. After all, that's why I was there. I hopped a local bus and took the 15 minute ride to El Parque Nacional de Iguazu. I arrived to the park at around 3:30 and the last train to La Garganta del Diablo left at 4pm. So I figured, why not see the Devil himself right off the bat? The little train to La Garganta squeeked into the station (think of those little kiddie trains at Six Flags) and we teetered out of the station. On my 25 minute ride, I got a little nervous. There was a lot of jungle, but it wasn't as rich as I had been expecting. It was more forest-y and less rain forest. But I kept my hopes up.

I vacated the train and followed the catwalk towards La Garganta. It was so quiet and the river was very smooth and calm. I wondered how deep the water was. It looked pretty shallow, but then again the pig pillars holding the catwalk up were pretty massive, so perhaps I was steeped in deeper water than I thought. As I continued walking I saw ahead what looked like a little whirlpool. NOT a little whirlpool.

The closer I got the bigger it got until it was a full blown hole in the middle of the earth.The cascades of water just plummeted into the abyss of mist. I couldn't see anywhere near the bottom of the chasm, so I have no idea how high up I was. I can only imagine. Water was just gushing at an ungodly speed (haha, get it because it's the devil's throat). I was overwhelmed by the power of this spectacle. Especially since at first I thought it was a whirlpool. But it was just an endless amount of water pummeling the earth, pouring into the emptiness of La Garganta. I was sprayed with a decent amount of mist. You could say the Devil himself spit on me. Extremely powerful. Not really paradise, but powerful.

After spending an hour just staring wide-eyed at it, I had to head back on the last train out of the park. I couldn't wait for the next morning when hopefully I would see the magnificence that had been hyped up.

I woke early on Thursday morning and met two American girls, Laura and Kate, who are currently living and working in Santiago, Chile teaching high school English. They are awesome.

We took the bus into the park and immediately signed up for our Gran Aventura. We took a 25 minute open-air van ride through the jungle. We saw a lot of trees, I mean a LOT of trees and two tucans from afar. Apparently there are over 300 species of trees in the jungle and most of the wildlife was not awake at 10 am. So we got off the van and got prepped for the nautical part of our adventure. I'm an idiot and forgot my bathing suit, so I stripped down to the bra and jeans and threw on a life jacket. We started down the Iguazu river. Just the cliffs around us were pretty. And then we saw it: Las Cataratas.

A rainbow arching from the river up over the falls, the lush greenery of the jungle and 2 million liters of water pouring out of the earth into the river per second (at least that's what I think our tour guide said). It was absolutely stunning. We rode up really close to the falls and the sound of running water filled my ears. Amazing. Then we rode into the falls. It's not as impressive a view since it's kind of hard to see when you're being doused with water, but basically I swam IN the falls. I was IN the falls! When they said get ready for La Ducha, they meant get ready for La Ducha. (For those of you who don't know La Ducha means The Shower.)

We were sopping wet. So we decided it would be worth the 15 minute hike to the sanitarios. One hour later we arrived at the bathrooms. You see, it may only take 15 minutes at normal hiking speed. But on our way up the rocky mountain path we stopped every five steps. The view just got better and better at every turn. What's amazing is that the falls actually looked different at every turn. We couldn't put our cameras away and we kept adjusting to get the most picturesque photos. But let's be honest, none of them do these falls justice.

I thought to myself, "What was G-d thinking when he created this place?"

"I think I'll put 500 waterfalls in two layers, one cascading over the other, with rainbows at every corner, the most lush greenery in the universe and top it off with a hole in the middle of the earth GUSHING with water. That'll do it."

I swear, now anywhere without a rainbow just seems unimpressive. Arching over the falls, catching the sunlight perfectly, reflecting on the most pefect pure blue sky with specks of black birds swooping over head. Sigh. We made it past Salto Bosetti (for the first time), which is one of the grandest and longest of the falls that you can easily get close to. We sauntered past Las Dos Hermanas, two twin falls in the middle of the jungle. They were more elegant in this secluded little area. We made the final bit of the trek and got to the bathrooms to dry off. Climbing and maneuvering around the rocks, my pants are apparently not as flexible as I am. I had a huge hole in the buttox area...hmmmhmmm. At least no one noticed, haha. Luckily I came prepared and changed into leggings. I went to Iguazu and lost a pair of pants. Not many can say that one.

Then it was about lunch time so we grabbed some sandwiches. Well, Laura grabbed two. The little animal that 10 minutes before we were gawking at ("oh it's so cute") stole her sandwich. Just hopped up on her lap and tore open the plastic and had at it. I ate standing up.

We decided to go back down the way we came and actually stop at Salto Bosetti and continue on to La Isla San Martin. I was just in awe. I honestly have never been so taken with anything in my life. It took my breath away. This place is out of a fairytale or Never Never Land. Never never can you imagine this place until you come here. You can't even fathom it while you are here. I was in awe of the beauty on this earth. Paradise. Using that word to describe anything else is just wrong. I could barely bring myself to leave. I almost cried when I did.

La Isla is incredible. It's kind of like a jungle gym of forest. You hike up a gajillion stairs in this bubble of jungle and come out the side and the falls are just striking. It's also a bit more gentle, I wanted to hop over the stantions and play in the rocks and falls. And there's a view called La Ventana where there's a natural cutout in the cliff that you can view La Garganta from far away. Spectacular. We decided we had to make it to the Upper Circuit before the day was out since that was supposed to be the most beautiful.

It's true. The Superior Circuit is even better than the lower. You stand above the falls and and look down over the beach on San Martin and over the Iguazu river and stand eye to eye with the DOUBLE rainbows. Incredible. Simply inexplicable. By 4pm the girls were wiped, but I stayed behind to trek the bit of thet Lower Circuit we had skipped earlier. After seven hours in the park, I was wiped and headed back to the hostel. The three of us had a delicious dinner, played some pool (which I am terrible at, but learning) and went to sleep to start over on Friday.

Fridays are apparently lucky. If last Friday was the BEST DAY EVER in Mendoza, this most recent Friday was my happiest day ever. I was just filled to the brim with joy. I started off the day with a trip into a jungle conservatory called Guira Oga which is guarani for La Casa de Los Pajaros which is spanish for House of Birds. I spent about 1.5 half looking at gorgeous birds. The Tucan was six inches from my face. Its feathers were velvet I swear.

Then I rushed off to the falls to absorb them one last time. I booked it to the Superior Circuit since I only had about three hours today. The park was so much emptier, which was surprising since it was the beginning of the weekend. When I reached the first bridge I just couldn't handle it. You'd think that the second or third time around you would be less impressed or more accostomed to the sight. But I was not. In fact, I just started singing. It's like the music just rose from the pit of my stomach. Music was the only way I could express the emotions running through me. And so I sang.

And then I ventured back to the Island to relax for a bit. I just sat on the beach taking it all in. It was the perfect ending to a beautiful three day getaway.

I miss Iguazu. And the rainbows.

BESOS!!!

Iguazu and why I am so proud of myself

So seconds before I left my house last night to go to the Tango Show, I hit click to purchase my flight to Iguazu for this morning. When I got back at around 1 am, something had gone wrong. There had been an error and the airlines rebooked me on two different flights that would shorten my excursion on both ends.

The airlines are not available by phone after a certain hour and obviously I could not contact anyone by email. My parents were asleep, so no advice there. So I had to figure this one out on my own. It might sound like common sense to some of you, but for me this was a big deal.

My original flight left at 8am today. The re-booked flight was supposed to leave at 130pm. Well, I wanted my original flight. So I got up at the buttcrack of dawn. I showered (in case the showers here were not so cool and because showering is good) and called a cab. I got to the airport at 7am and rebooked a ticket for a flight at 935 am. I passed out on the plane - which was apparently delayed an hour - and arrived in Iguazu at 1215pm. I was SO PROUD OF MYSELF. I actually just totally impromptu arrived at the airport, fixed my problem and got on a plane for a domestic flight in Argentina. Not bad for a rookie.

This town reminds you that you are in a less developed country. Not nearly as cultivated as Buenos Aires, people come here just for the falls. There is no nightlife. Just a few restaurants here in the center of town. The raw earth is exposed everywhere, the color of Red Indian Clay. Its actually very pretty.

I went to the falls around 3 pm today to get my bearings and decide what to do tomorrow on my full day excursion. As it turns out, there was a train leaving at 4pm to La Garganta del Diablo (the Devils Throat). I took amazing photos and video - I promise to post when I can. Just know that this sight was overpowering. Truly, I just went 'OH MY GOD.' The two rainbows arching over gushing water. GUSHING into what looked like a hole in the middle of the earth. I heard that its not the prettiest spot in the park but that its the most powerful. I believe it. You can´t even see the bottom of the falls where the water lands because there is so much mist rebounding from the speed of the falls. Incredible.

Sorry to post so briefly about something so amazing, but people are waiting for the computer. I will post more tomorrow after my full day of exploring!!

BESOS!

Week Four: Why is tango so damn sexy?

So after my trot in the Andes, I slipped back into city life Monday and Tuesday.

I rose at a normal hour Monday morning (see: 9:45 am) so that I could make the 11 am tour at the Palacio de las Aguas Corrientes. Now either my guidebook was misleading, or I completely misread it. I thought that the perk of the guided tour was to see the inner workings of the Palacio - which provides the water for all Buenos Aires - as it worked. I stand corrected. The Palacio is the pretty building that houses the pipes that used to provide the water for all Buenos Aires. Now, it is a museum. No cascades of water. Just a lot of hollow pipes. Big pipes. But just empty columns.

I guess I will leave the gushing water to Iguazu.

The museum also stands as a shrine to 1) the architecture of the building and 2) the uses of water. So, I saw a lot of toilets. I mean A LOT of toilets. Apparently, the evolution of the dear inodoro (thats Spanish for toilet) is quite important in terms of water usage. You have your average chamber pot. You have the more innovated toilet that has working plumbing. You even have gendered toilets; this includes urinals and toilets and bidets, but also just 2 different toilets for men and women. There are even toilets that have sinks at the top of them so that the water that normally drains to the outside from your sink, can be used more efficiently in your toilet. Boy did I receive an education.

In all seriousness, the building was beautiful and I felt it was a part of Buenos Aires history that I should take a look at.

I then hopped on the Subte to Villa Crespo and Once. I bought myself a hairdryer in ye old Jewishville on Estado de Israel street. Then I wandered to an art gallery Arte x Arte. There were three floors of exhibitions. It's supposed to be the cutting edge of contemporary art. I suppose it was. And I keep going to these art galleries because I like art. But in all honesty, I am a traditionalist. I like classic art and classic technique. I should accept the fact that I am close-minded and not go to exhibits with photos of men working on the salt flats or origami dinosaurs made of pesos. Not my thing - although something to do.

Soon I was really hungry, and I knew that two subte stops away there was a kosher McDonalds. HALLELUJAH! Inside the Abasto (a very large shopping mall) I found the McDonalds Kosher. The golden arches never shined so brightly.

McPollo or Cuarto de Libro? McPollo or Cuarto de Libra? I went with the hamburger. And there I sat amongst the wigs and the tzit tzit. So happy. Meat tastes so good. Though it's still McDonalds and I think my stomach was not too pleased with me. But whatever.

I then went to my third tango lesson. I swear my only regret from this trip will be not taking enough tango. And now to the answer of the title question: tango is so damn sexy because it is all about maintaining contact. When the man puts his arm on your back, it's not just his hand on your back. His arm wraps around you and his hand forms this tight cup grip on your ''dorsal'' as they call it. See how you feel with a guy practically squeezing his arm around you. And then, the woman grips the guys bicep. His bicep. I mean, hello! It's all about tight gripping in the upper body. And the two hands that are just holding each other actually push against each other so as to communicate the direction in which you dance. There's a lot of directional information involved, so direct physical contact is necessary.

Of course this can become a little awkward when the men you are taking with are awkward little foreign men who are in their 40s randomly deciding to take up tango. But hey. I gotta learn somehow. And I´ve made friends with the teachers who are all young.

I caught up with my friends from the hostel later that night. It was amazing to see them. One week can feel like such a long time. We hugged each other like it had been an eternity. But it´s nice to know that I was missed.

Tuesday I slept a little later and met up with my friend Alex to go to La Boca. La Boca is the neighborhood with all the funky colored buildings and tango dancing in the street. It's basically a tourist trap. But there's a reason it's a tourist trap. Colorful buildings are just fun. And there are a lot of local artists and artisans painting and carving wood and such in the streets. It was nice to walk around for a couple of hours - like everything else in Buenos Aires that lasts 'a couple of hours'.

We wandered a bit from the main road (but not too much because this is the sketchy part of town) to take a look at the soccer stadium for La Boca Juniors. We wandered around the stadium and took some pictures with the golden statue of Maradona. I tell you, these people are OBSESSED with Diego Maradona. He is everywhere. His face is on the side of random buildings as mural art. Their fixation with this main is unbelievable. You'd think he single-handedly freed the nation from the Spaniards or something.

Anywho, that night I went to a Tango Show at Esquina Carlos Gardel, named for the famous tango cantante. The most expensive outing yet, my 100 dollars covered my three course meal, bottomless glass of wine (it's too bad I don't like it more), the 1.5 hour tango show and transportation both ways. I tell you, they understand value here. New York should think about that transportation thing. The show was incredible. TANGO IS SO HOT! The show kind of went through a history of the tango style-wise, showcasing lyrical/ballet style tango, classic tango, and then the FIERCEST tango I have ever seen. I mean, the entire audience just did not know what to do with themselves. Haha. The costumes were magnificent and the energy was smoking. The tango orchestra was amazing...I never thought the accordian could be such a beautiful instrument. But paired with a violin and playing tango music, its pretty sweet. And the female tanguero cantante. HOLY CRAP. That woman can sing. She had that husky Spanish 'I yearn for you' thing going on. Just a fantastic show.

The energy of the tango is sexy because of that 'longing.' It's embedded in the physicality of the dance. We are going to press our upper bodies together so that I am breathing down your neck, but we are going to make space between our lower bodies so that I can weave my legs like a spider's web between yours. Absurd. We are going to be so close to kissing each other that it is practically painful not to. The tension permeates the dance and that's what makes watching it so entrancing.

I wish I could tango.

Today's post is brought to you by the letter M - M is for Mendoza

Whoever said that Mendoza was a skippable destination may have been delirious at the time of that statement.

I love that city. Albeit, it was freezing and I think I wore everything that I packed all at once. But it was worth it. And if I think that after being really sick and really cold, you know it must be good.

After sleeping in an unheated room and taking a cold shower my first night, Mauricio (also with an M) from Hostel Lao saved the day. Hostelworld bookings wasn't working, but Mauricio helped me book his hostel over the phone and the next day I was at Hostel Lao - friendlier, cozier and more helpful than the last.

Soon I left for my first excursion: La Cabalgata (which means horseback riding). We took a looooonnng bus ride to the moutnaints. It was pretty sweet the way the mountains just kept getting closer and closer and closer, until we were driving in them. After signing my life away - you know how these things are - I mounted my horse and joined the line of 27 in riding through the Andes. So the thing about horseback riding through places is that I'd say it is 50% cool because of where you are riding and 50% cool because of the view you see. Maybe also a little cool because of who you go with.

Well, riding through the Andes is sweet. REALLY COLD, but pretty cool. The horse is just bounding up these mini, snow-covered hills and teetering down on the other side. But, the view down was not so hot. Mendoza is the desert. So when you look down, there isn't a whole lot to see. Needless to say I was slightly bummed. But at the same time, I went horseback riding in the Andes. After our little 2 hours stroll, I dismounted and climbed in the bus. My toes were pretty much frozen and the cold was radiating up my body so I couldn't wait to get in the heat.

Unfortunately, our bus was not heated at all. I woke up in the center of town barely able to move. I think my body just began to shut down in that cold. It's the kind of cold that you think you will never be warm again. Inside out. Bones to skin.

But I arrived at Hostel Lao where there was a fire blazing in our common room fireplace. I planted myself there to thaw out.

M is also for 'mid-trip crisis.' At this point, I was frozen and sick and in another new city where I hadn't been particularly overwhelmed by my outing. Not going to lie, I wanted to come home where there is heat and hot water and waffles. (Ok the waffles are a side note because I can't eat another sugar-coated pastry and call it breakfast - but moving on). The halfway mark was about to hit and I was ready to be done.

But then, there was Friday. Honestly, one of the best days of my life. I woke up at 8am for my day of trekking, repelling and hot springs. Generally, I do not consider myself an outdoorsy kind of girl. But based on the fact that this is my favorite thing I have done here (and that I consistently enjoy these activities in many countries) maybe I do like the outdoors; I just don't like bugs. Thankfully, that is the one benefit of the cold.

Anywho, we trekked up to the peak of this mountain in the Andes. Unbelievable. I know that it was like 1300 meters. Whether I hiked 1300 meters or whether the peak was 1300 meters above sea level, I can't tell you. But the view was ridiculous. A second benefit of the cold: the mountains are prettier when covered with snow.

After trekking to the highest point we could, we began our descent. Now mind you, there is no path. At all. We were just kind of finding our footing where we could at a decent 45 degree angle. People were slipping and sliding everywhere. The surface was snow on ice on gravel (aka slippery). But as we were going down I thought to myself, ''If I got hurt, which might suck, at least I would have a pretty sick scar. And when people see it, they'll say 'OMG what happened to your leg?' And I'd be able to say, 'well...this one time when I was trekking in the Andes....'' But alas, I am safe. (This is a good thing even though I said it with general morose).

We finally reached the first repelling point. My guide Marcel (see! the letter M!) was awesome. We first repelled about 45-60 feet, so 15-20 meters. Did I mention I love repelling? By now I had made friends with 6 Canadians (2 couples in their 30s from Montreal and a young couple my age from Toronto). We were all cheering each other on and making jokes and taking pictures for each other. We hit the second repel, no bid deal. It felt like maybe 15 feet.

Then we hit the third repel. OMG. My dad would have pooped his pants if he had seen it. Forty-five meters, 130 feet. And this time, you didn't just hook up to the repel rope and climb down. You had to transfer from stable ground to a little 2x1 square of rock (basically freestanding) one step down from stable ground before repelling. I turned to Marcel, ''Not gonna lie, Im actually a little scared.'' But with my cheering section and Marcel, I repelled like a total champ. Once you lean back and feel the rope has you...everything is perfect. Especially the view.

Time for lunch and a dip in the thermal hot springs. I hadn't brought a bathing suit to Mendoza, but my friend lent me her bottoms so I could at least put my legs in. Ok, THIS WAS HOT. Extreme temperatures: Mendoza Edition. But as I looked around, I wondered how hot was hot enough to kill all the bacteria that must be in the water. I decided no heat could kill that much bacteria, and besides being half in a hot spring and half not is no way to do it. I put all my layers back on (which took longer than sitting in the hot spring) and headed back outside.

Honestly, I can sit in a hot tub any day. But this view. Sigh. I was sitting on a mountain ledge, overlooking the steaming hot springs as the sun set over the Andes. Perfection. Absolute natural brilliance.

Eventually we boarded the bus and headed home after my favorite day in Argentina. I even ate a delicious sushi dinner so that I could have a break from all that darn pizza and cake. My friend Nacho (Ignacio) who had arranged all of my tours took me to dinner and taught me about wine tasting so I would be prepared for my wine tours the next day. He also ordered a bottle of Late Harvest just to prove to me I could like wine if chosen correctly for me. I like wine when chosen correctly for me. Really sweet, but really tasty.

And so, I awoke in my WARM BED on my final morning in Mendoza to learn the sophistication of making and drinking wine. You see, I had been debating whether to do the Premium wine tour for 150 USD or the one step down for 100 pesos (25 USD). Thank GOD I did the cheap one. To me, wine is wine. Vineyards are where you make wine. An oak barrel is an oak barrel and a tank mixes wine that I can't see. You have to do the wineries when you come here because it's wine country. But I still don't understand all the fuss.

I did have a gourmet meal out of it for 25 extra USD. Six little courses, four glasses of wine, lots of delicious homemade bread and a really good looking waiter. I got my money's worth.

And then I returned to Hostel Lao to say goodbye to my favorite staff to date before heading back on the overnight bus to Buenos Aires. The US could learn a thing or two about these overnight buses. They're nicer than airplanes!

M is also for Musical Theater. If you were keeping track, it is now Sunday. I had tickets to Bella y la Bestia. Excited is an understatement. I got to the theater, paid for my program (programs don't grow on trees you know) and waited for the show to begin. The audience was packed with little kids, but I LOVED IT. We should consider importing talent from here. Every voice was better than the next. The costumes were unbelievable. The sets were just perfection: grand enough for a French Disney castle, but not overdone to the point of gaudiness. The orchestra started to play and my heart fluttered. I cried after ''Gaston.'' GASTON! The song. The choreography was just ridiculous. They had this whole routine where they use their metal beer mugs as instruments. Genius.

I nearly bawled when La Bestia sang ''Si no puedo amarla.'' His voice was just flawless. I cried again in Act Two when Señora Potts sang ''Bella y Bestia Son'' because its's just so classic, and then shed my final tears during the curtain call. Magnificent. (Get it?) I was a bit emotional.

I finished my day off with salad for dinner. YAY REAL FOOD! A REAL SALAD WITH VEGETABLES. I swear, I thought they only grew meat here. What a relief.

Needless to say, my Mid-trip crisis has subsided. I am planning travels to other cities that are supposed to trump Mendoza. We'll see about that.

I will post pictures ASAP (since this is not worth reading without them).

BESOS!!

Creative Ways to Keep Warm in the Freezing Cold

1. Layer: Wear socks to bed. Wear leggings under your pajama pants. Wear a thermal and a sweatshirt and put your hood up.

2. Use a hairdryer as a heater for your body (temporarily)

3. If you do not have a hairdryer: after you finishing freezing from wet hair, re-warm yourself by straightening your hair. Make sure the pieces close to your neck are the hottest.

4. Plug in your laptop and put it in your bed. Not only will the heat of the battery warm your sheets, but the laptop fan will produce hot air.

5. Use jackets as extra blankets

More ideas to follow.

Feel free to post your suggestions below.

Cultural Differences and Familiar Faces

Apologies for my ridiculous hiatus. It has been way too long. But there is a reason for it: cultural differences.

WARNING: Get ready this is going to be a long one.

So I moved into my homestay on Saturday. Yay heat. Yay hot water. Yay telephones. Yay consistent wifi. Except, she doesn't have the password to the wifi. She told me she would get it on Monday from her daughter. Guess what? She didn't. So I didn't want to post without pictures, yet here I am posting without pictures anyway.

Here in Argentina, you pay rentals up front. That does not mean you pay up front for the week each Sunday. That means you pay up front in full. Now, in America we are not a trusting people. Perhaps because we screw each other all the time. So in my mind, if I pay her in full I have nothing protecting me if something goes wrong. In my mind I have to trust her with my things during my stay (since I am in and out of her house traveling the country)and trust that she will be hospitable according to the terms discussed. In Argentina, the trust is the opposite way. She trusts that I will be an appropriate guest and my payment is my way of saying you can trust me. Therefore, withholding money is an insult.

Well, after my lovely move-in with the dispute over payment schedules and such...I went to meet up with someone I had met in my second hostel for lunch. We were supposed to meet at the hostel. He left without me. So I went to the restaurant thinking "If he's there, cool, if not I'll eat alone." I walked all the way to the restaurant - you'd think I would realize by now that maps show things much closer than they are walking distance - and he wasn't there. Moreover, the restaurant was no longer serving lunch at 4pm.

So I wandered back to a really fancy Italian place. I had a fancy meal all alone...and LOVED the food. I had this A-mazing salid with brie and parmesan and delicious ravioli. Mmmmmmmmmm! Another cultural difference: my way expensive meal at my fancy italian restaurant with nine forks and twelve spoons = $25 (with tip).

I walked around in the cold to waste some time before my tango lesson - instead of going back to the house. I found this awesome hat. We ALL know how I feel about hats. She wanted 70 pesos. Ok, it wasn't THAT awesome and for Argentinian standards that's pricey. Besides, I was going to tango lessons and I needed enough money for that. I offered her 50, she offered me 60. Nope. I walked away. She let me. I came back after realizing the most I could pay is 55 and still have money in my pocket. Note: You must always have money in your pocket. She refused. Do the math people. She wouldn't budge over 1 dollar. Cultural difference!

So I left for Tango lessons. Thank goodness for the bright spot in my day! I had wonderful teachers. I have such a hard time with the posture though. Tango is lower to the ground. You bend at the knees and the hips and you lean your shoulders forward. Not like jazz or ballet or show tap. Closer to street tap, but not as loose. But, I had a good lesson. The better my partner, the better I danced.

After getting back home from the FREEZING cold, I took a hot shower and got ready for a night out. We went to the club early...2:15am. We waited online at the coat check for an hour and then they didnt have room for my coat. Only my coat out of our entire group. My luck was running really low. But that's Buenos Aires: This coat room is full enough. "I dont care if you are offering me money, I don't really want to hang another coat." In New York, they will take your money for everything and anything. "Sure I have space...I'll wear it on my back if I have to, just give me your money."

So I danced holding my coat for 2 hours, and by 5:15 I couldn't do it anymore. I waited for everyone to get their coats and dragged my tired tush out of there at 6 am. Cabbies here, you can't pay them to take you if they don't want to. So even though there was a row of taxis sitting outside the club, I couldnt find one to take me home. You´d think Palermo was the opposite side of the earth. (FYI it´s not very far.)

Finally made it home and slept until 1 on Sunday. Some say I wasted the day. Others say I was preventing getting sick. I say, sleep is nice but when you are run down you get sick anyway.

Bea (the landlady) agreed to take half payment on Sunday and half payment next week. "This is not a hostel. I don't do this for sport." So I ran out in the pouring rain to get money on a Sunday.

For those of you who don't know, it is impossible to get money on a Sunday. IMPOSSIBLE. But I ventured on. Tired and wet I visited 5 banks.

ATM #1 (Banco Frances): This atm does not have enough money to give you. Please try another

ATM #2 (Banco Frances): This atm cannot complete your transaction.

I leave. Alarms go off. Six policemen come running. I go back to tell them I had just been there but that the atms dont work. Policemen here are not here to help you. You don't realize how nice it is to have a police force whose purpose is designed to help you until you come here.

ATM #3 (Bancho Comafi): This atm does not have enough money to give you. Please try another

ATM #4 screwed me. It told me to take my money but didnt give me any. I tried again. Same story.

So now, when I went to ATM #5 and #6, there was no money in the account.

Bea was less than pleased when I arrived home without cash in hand. And she let me know it.

It was all going to be ok at 4 o'clock, when I was supposed to go see Gabe - my pianist from my high school choir - and his choir at the Iglesia de Santo Domingo. But 4 o'clock came and went and I was sitting on the computer trying to work it out with my mom (who is a total champ). I made the mistake of making a phone call on Bea's phone. Calls to cell phones from landlines are expensive here, even if they are local cell phones.

How quickly I am learning about the differences between the US and Argentina.

2.5 hours, 2 telephone calls, and 288 lines of gchat later, all was resolved and I hopped in a cab to get to the church not on time.

I FOUND GABE!!!!! HALLELUJAH for seeing people you know when you've had such a crappy foreign day. He gave me a hug and everything seemed ok again - not to mention he is just the most adorable man in the world with such a brightness about life on such a rainy day.

I left with him and his friends to switch hotels and head out for dinner. Mind you, I am so wet and cold and tired by this point it is only Gabe's smile and little red nose that keeps me from collapsing. The power of a familiar face on a rainy day (literally) cures all (well, except my actual cold). Of course, I stayed out too late chatting with him and his brother, Ramiro, and his co-director David. At least there was tea involved.

Monday. Slept in yet again. Mind you, I am trying to get the heck out of Buenos Aires to have a break from Bea and the rain and the pace of the city. But the day was not a waste. I bought my tickets to La Bella y La Bestia for this coming Sunday!!! GET EXCITED. Then I met Gabe and the gang at El Ateneo.

El Ateneo is a chain of bookstores around Buenos Aires (maybe even around Argentina). But the original is a converted theater. All of the books are shelved where the seats used to be in the balconies of the house. The cafe is on stage an the kitchen is in the wings. So cool.

Then we did the dinner and bar thing and turned in for the night. I am sick with a cough by now.

Tuesday. This is it, damnit. I am getting out of Buenos Aires. I am leaving for Mendoza tonight. I booked my Micro (sleeper bus) and my hostel and said sayonara - well I said ciao, but you know.

I met my new Spaniard friend David at El Museo Evita for a farewell to the city. We spent time browsing through her dresses, hats and reading a bit about her politics as well. We watched videos of her speeches off the balcony of La Casa Rosada. She was beautiful. What she accomplished was pretty amazing, but what is sad is that a lot of her organizations to benefit the people of Argentina seem to have fallen to the wayside.

We then ran to dinner and I grabbed my bags to ride to the bus station to take my sleeper bus to Mendoza. I sat next to the cutest little 7-year-old girl. She taught me little games that she and her friends play. Tutti Frutti is kind of like scattergories. We played until the lights went out. Then we laid our plush leather seats down flat and slept until morning. How cool to sleep flat in transit? It´s a good thing too, because my bus ride was four hours longer than intended.

But all of a sudden, I looked out the front window of our double decker bus and saw the faint outline of snow-covered mountains against the pale blue sky. WOW. The Andes are pretty impressive, in case you thought they wouldn´t be.

Gabe´s brother Ramiro hooked me up with his friend who works for a tourism company so he helped me coordinate my days in Mendoza and he took me to dinner. People who know people are the luckiest people in the world.

Horse-backing riding in those mountains this afternoon.

Photos of all of this forthcoming.

Despite all of the rough times the past few days, I am really doing well. With help from people here and people at home we got over the banking fiasco. I am still meeting amazing people and experiencing more Argentine culture every day. AND I´m back on track with speaking Spanish instead of English all the time. I think I grew from these minor setbacks. So it´s allllll good. I´m so excited for my adventures here. Will write very very soon!!!

BESOS!

Casa Fuera La Casa (Home Away from Home)

We've hit the two week mark!

Last night Rachel and I ventured to the Jabad House (that's right j = ch here) for Shabbat services and dinner. Surprisingly, Jabad used the melodies most familiar to me of the shuls we have been visited. I guess my tunes are more traditional than I had realized.

Though the building was freezing, the community was extremely warm. We met a woman from Cordoba, Argentina who had just moved to Buenos Aires five months ago. She is a flautist and a music teacher, so she and I got along very well. The Rabbi and his wife were so sweet. They have 11 children. Eleven. I was trying to count while I sat there and I got up to 7 or 8. I nearly bowled over when I heard 11. But I guess Jabad everywhere is the same.

Before dinner the Rabbi made a beautiful speech about the purpose of Jabad around the world: so that Jews always have a home away from home (una casa fuera la casa). He welcomed us and we just felt so comfortable. At the end of the meal we all went around the table and introduced ourselves - said a little something.

So I said: Hola, me llamo Ruthie. Soy de los Estados Unidos, naci in CT pero vivo en Nueva York. Soy de vacaciones aca pero algo que me intersan son las comunidades judias en otros paises. Me fascina que no importa donde estas, todo es lo mismo. Creo que eso es lindo. Gracias por todo, el bienvenidos y la cena. Shabbat Shalom.

Hi, my name is Ruthie. I'm from the States, born in CT but I live in NY. I am on vacation here but one thing that interests me is Jewish communities around the world. It fascinates me/I love that it doesn't matter where you are, everything is the same. I think it's beautiful. Thank you for everything, the hospitality and the dinner. Shabbat Shalom.

This being my third Shabbat here, I do feel like I am totally welcome in this city whenever I go to shul (shil).

In fact, I am finally starting to feel like I live here in Buenos Aires. It happened so fast. While there is a lot to do here, most activities don't take so long - maybe a couple of hours. So I've slowed down. I'm starting to fall into a routine and I feel like I have a real network of friends. Between yoga and tango lessons I am taking classes among the residents here. I'm relaxing a bit more.

And I think that helps. This city has a more relaxed attitude and I think by slowing down (at least during the day) I fit in more. In the past couple of days I've done some touring, going along with the theme of being Jewish.

On Thursday I visited the El Museo Judio y El Templeo Israelito. Though small, the museum shows the history of the migration of the Jewish people to Argentina. There were traditional objects: Torahs (Sephardic ones!), a pocket Tanach, Chanukiot, the index of immigrants. I much preferred looking around the Sanctuary of the synagogue. It was so beautiful. Originally intended for an orthodox congregation, the upper gallery for women had the most beautiful wood carved chairs. I think we may try shul there our next Shabbat.

Thursday night I had my first full night out Argentina style. I went out for a real dinner with friends at 10:30. We had a DELICIOUS meal until about 12:45. We walked over, shivering, to a bar to grab some drinks before we headed back to Lost (the hip hop club). We left around 5 and turned in for the night. Going out at 2 am is much easier when you are not hanging around your hostel tired first.

Yesterday, I continued my Jewish ways during the day. Shopping. I tried on every pair of boots I remotely liked. Of course, I bought nothing. Don't worry. I'm going to have to buy leather here. It's the thing to do. But, spending a lot of money.....not my forte. In actuality, the leather here is cheap for the excellent quality. I just need to find the perfect ones before I commit. I need to make sure that they are the ones I really love. Though my friend reminded me yesterday "they're shoes, not a husband." She has a point. But so do I.

For me to have spend a whole day shopping instead of touring, I must feel like I live here.

Anywho, after shopping came Jabad (you already know about that) and then I passed out hard core.

Buenos Aires on the whole is really great. I feel more and more comfortable every day. When I first got here, I didn't feel like I needed to study abroad here. Now that I have been here a little longer, I still don't think I needed to, but I understand how I could have spent more time here. New York is my true home away from home, so I won't give that up...but for this summer, Buenos Aires is a good second.

On the agenda: moving to my new homestay, tour of La Casa Rosada, tango lesson, go out.

BESOS!

Palaces and Clubbing and Tango, oh my!

Tuesday was a GREAT day. I woke up at a reasonable hour for once in my Argentine life. I went to check out the Eco Pampas Hostel to see if I wanted to stay there for this weekend since I am saying goodbye to my simplistically beautiful abode :(

It is way nicer than the hostel I last stayed at and it looks like I'll be sharing a room with 5 other girls, so hopefully I'll make more new friends fast. Then I started off towards Alto Palermo (the nice shopping mall in my neighborhood). Notice I say nice in my neighborhood because this city is COVERED in high end shopping malls. Well, I needed a hoodie. It is damn cold here. But I decided to rough it one more day because I didn't want to take time away from touring.

Surfacing from the subte I immediately came face to face with one of the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen. It's like a bigger and more elaborate Low Library - same intricate detail, but just more of it. The building is the Palacio del Congreso where the government gathers to vote and do, you know, government things. I had to wait until 4 to take a tour so I wandered down Avendia de Mayo. Directly across from the Palacio is the Plaza del Congreso with the Monumental del Congreso.

Wandering around this city as much as I have, there are monuments everywhere. A pillar here with a man on a horse, a pillar there with a man in his military garb. But this monument embodied extravagance. It's more like a playground for statues than a monument. Four massive staircases, numerous fountains spitting water around the entire perimeter, statues of men and women and horses. Now that is what I call a monument.

Spattered with hotels and cafes, on my stroll down Avenida de Mayo is where I found the beautiful mural graffiti all of the guide books say is everywhere. Maybe graffiti is everywhere, but full murals of art are much more common in this neighborhood. I arrived at the Museo del Tango, scheduled to be Stop #3, but who's counting.

I glanced over some tango history, read about important dancers, poets, choreographers, cantantes (singers) and composers. But I also got to eavesdrop on the rehearsal of a tango orchestra. I think the accordianist amazed me the most. Watching the rehearsal made the long walk completely worth while. Especially when they played that really typical tango song (da-duh-da da-da, da-duh-da da-da, da-duh-da da-da da da-da da da-da-da). It's on that commerical for...I don't know.

Anywho, then I walked all the way back to the Palacio (after grabbing two empanadas) for my tour. So worth the walk and the wait. Our first stop was the Assembly Room where the voting and everything actually takes place. After taking Art Hum, all of my architecture knowledge kicked in and I was in awe. By order of the president, you are not allowed to take pictures in there. But the red marble and white marble and the cedar hand-carved doors and cherry banquettes, (sigh) classically beautiful.

After our history lesson from Tour Guide Daniela we wandered into the main Salon. It was lovely, but not quite as impressive as the Assembly Room. So naturally you can take pictures in here. The best part was the stained glass ceiling made of 5 panels each representing a different field that the Argentine governemtn felt were important. I can only remember art and science. Law must have been there, too.

Then we went to the library. Oh my Lord. I felt like Belle in Beauty in the Beast. I mean, it was not quite as expansive, but it was lavish. I just love hand-carved everything and this room was practically completely widdled by hand. There was a gorgeous clock that was a gift from France. It was a small tour of three rooms, but stunning.

When I steped outside the Palacio I was bombarded by a protest. I guess it wouldn't be Argentina if I didn't witness a protest. I wandered past the marchers and headed back towards where I had been to the Manzana de las Luces. It was the original block where the Jesuits lived and built their church. It wasn't overhwelming. The best part was after I had looked around. I stopped in the gift shop where there was an artist painting. I stopped to watch.

Alejandro Levy, Jewish Argentinian artist. We had a nice little conversation for 20 minutes. It's funny. Sometimes my Spanish just spills out of me and sometimes I just struggle so hard. That was a case of the former. Which is why I lost track of time and missed 7pm yoga and had to go back at 9. Amazing. The studio here is just awesome. I can't wait to go back - mas atras! mas atras!

At around 2am I headed out to meet my friends so we could go to a club. You know. Normal Tuesday night style. We had free passes before 3am. Naturally we showed up at approximately 2:58. We danced a bit, but the DJ wasn't great. That's what we get for free on a Tuesday. While I was dancing I ended up next to this kid who looked SO familiar. I never forget a face although I don't think I ever knew his name.

Turns out, Alex Lichen graduated a year below me from Hall. Small world. Way to go Buenos Aires. After passing out at 7am, my plans for yesterday were a little off.

But I guess that's ok since a lot of things are closed on Wednesday. It wasn't my luckiest day. Turns out the not-to-be-missed tours of the Teatro Colon will not resume until September. Teatro Cervantes was closed because of a performance. El Museo Judio was closed because they are not open on Wednesdays. That had pretty much been my itinerary. So I wandered and ended up at El Museo de La Ciudad. Intended to be a glimpse of life and cultue in Buenos Aires, it was more of a shrine to matte (the tea they drink here). But it was cool to see all the different types of matte and matte glasses and some toys that children used to play with back in the day.

The big even of the day was my first tango lesson. SO GREAT. I learned a lot in only an hour and a half. It's very different from other dance. 1) You lead with your heel on every step - I'm so glad I've practiced leading with my toe for 19 years. 2) You lean slightly forward, putting your weight towards your partner so that he can push against you and guide you. 3) You are supposed to drop and loosen your arms at the elbow. The dance is entirely in the hands of the man, which made my job simpler. I really enjoyed it and I am for sure going to go back. It's just so sexy. Our teachers performed for us after class and I swear when the dance ended and they let go of each other, they were flustered.

My skills are not quite at that point, but we'll see. After tango I went to a KOSHER RESTAURANT! The food was amazing. I had some lahamagin...a little different here. Then I had the most amazing roast beef. This food is why the word divine was invented.

Anywho, I'm about to move to my new digs at the Eco Pampas Hostel. Wish me luck in making new friends!

BESOS!

Not so according to plan: El Tigre and Punta Carrasca

They say it isn't a good story if everything goes according to plan. Well, welcome to my Saturday in Delta del Tigre and my night in Punta Carrasca.

Woke up at what felt like the crack of dawn at 8:45 am, really wanted to shower but would've been late meeting my four friends at the train station if I did. We were going to explore barrios off a delta anyway, so I figured I'd shower after. After our hour long train ride - which cost a wopping 2.70 pesos (aka 60 cents) - we landed on El Tigre. It's an "outer borough" of Buenos Aires, so to speak. But the "city" is all waterways and islas. The rivers are the streets. The boats are the cars. In fact, boat gas stations are quite prominent around here. And I don't mean the kind where you pull your boat onto land and fill it up at the pump. I mean the pump comes to your boat, which docks in the water. This is the place to go kayaking, canoeing, wakeboarding etc.

We bought boat tickets to Tres Bocas which is generall the most visited of the islas. Our plan was to walk around the island (it is literally a circle), eat some lunch, go to the AMASING park (as my Brazilian friend said by mistake - he meant amusement), and take a train ride home so I could shower and head off to an event at Bet Hillel. Yay Jews.

Well. We got off the boat, an equivalent of a water bus. We walked straight up the dock and climbed over a bridge and headed off to explore the circle around Tres Bocas. We took tons of great pictures, saw a lot of the residences of Tres Bocas, relaxed on a random swing.

The path kind of tapers off and we end up tip-toeing on rocks squished into the mud. We should have known when we were in the mud. We came upon a house with a rope hanging like a swing from a tree. My friend started messing around and soon the little old man who lived in the house came outside. "Estan perdidos." It means "you are lost." "Um, nope....estamos yendo por la vuelta." [Um, nope...we are going around the cirlce.] "Estan perdidos."[You are lost.] "Pero seguimos este mapa..." [But we are following this map.] "No, equivocaron cuando cruzaron el puente." [You screwed up when you crossed the bridge.]

OH! You mean the very first thing we did. You mean the bridge we crossed half an hour back up the road? We weren't supposed to cross it? Oh good. Hahahahahha. Many, I can only imagine if we had kept going. What if my friend hadn't just climbed on this man's property. He would not have come out of the house and we would have wandered the poverty-stricken landscape of Tres Bocas and there would have never been a circle to turn around on.

Well, we headed back the way we came, past the houses and their grills, past the relaxing swing, past the flee-bitten dogs, past the little restaurant, past the gas station, and back over the bridge. We decided to walk along the river. Thank goodness it was a beautiful sunny day. And when the river became monotonous we ventured back inland to explore the real vuelta. Turns out, our version was more interesting.

So we went back to the river. Plopping down we immediately ordered a liter of Quilmes, Argentine beer. Shockingly, I enjoy this beer. Did you hear that, Matt? I enjoyed beer! I had my first "asado," grilled meal. Argentina is famous for their grilling. I was excited to have protein (YAY fish!), but they don't use any seasoning. So it was good fish, but without much flavor. Natural and delicious nonetheless.

We dined for a long time and then decided we'd better get back if wanted to follow our plan and ride the roller coaster in the AMASING park. So we asked for the check. And we waited. And we waited. We asked again. We fed the dogs our leftover food. We waited. We missed the boat. We were pretty irritated. 294 pesos (for 5 people - how silly) and 45ish extra minutes later, we boarded the boat.

It was so late that we were supposed to be heading back to BsAs so I could shower. Remember that? But I decided that we had come all this way, we had to go to the AMASING park. We got to the AMASING park 20 minutes before it closed. So we gave up on that. We walked through the market - people here are obsessed with wicker. Wicker baskets, wicker chairs, wicker trunks, plain wicker to go home and make wicker things. It was kind of funny watching all these little people carrying furniture on their shoulders and heads back to their cars as if their houses were empty and until today they had had nothing to sit on.

We had nothing to sit on for the train ride back. We had all been planning to take naps on that hour long ride. But remember, almost nothing in this day went according to plan though we had a ton of fun anyway.

I dashed off the train and headed into the subte to get to the Cafe Concert at Bet Hillel which was starting somewhere between 8 and 8:30. Bet Hillel, and the conservative shuls here in general, are big on music. Their services are accompanied by a keyboard, a flute, sometimes a saxophone (Amijai had a cello). It's very orchestral and beautiful - not so folk-lory as when services are musical in the U.S. But this evening of music was kind of like a talent show of all the young adults in the community.

I met Alan's family and sat with Sima (who is renting me the apartment). I'm in love with her. She is just the cutest and sweetest. Such a hip grandma. The show was fun and I made a friend my age in the congregation. He's studying to be an engineer and wants to go to Cambridge. We were yelled at for talking during the show. But I was so excited to make an Argentine friend! As it turns out though, there are a lot of kids who like to sing in this community. Approximately four hours worth. What's funnier is that they love to sing American music. Some Alanis Morrisette, the Beatles (ok not exactly American), Jason Mraz, U2. I felt like I was at home as I sang along and really enjoyed myself.

Finally, at 1245 I made it home. SHOWER TIME! We were all planning to go out and party big. So I showered and called the gang to find out the dress code. No one knew. Do you wanna know what's silly? That people here don't go anywhere until 2am. You know what's sillier? Sitting in a towel at 1:30 am waiting for your friends to call back and tell you what you should wear.

But by 230 I was dressed and ready to go. A quick cab ride to Terrazas del Este and I was in club heaven. Luckily I found my friends and we headed straight for the room with Latin American music. Attractive men! So here they are. I mean, not all of them, but certainly the most attractive bunch I'd seen so far. The music was great. So much energy and passion. The only problem was EVERYONE wanted to hear this music. Buenos Aires is full of clubs with house and techno music, but surprisingly few of Latin music and reggaetone.

Much like at the hip hop club on Thursday, my movement was not as voluntary as I would have liked. And as it turns out, I wore exactly the wrong thing. Sure I looked great, but my nice jumper in a crowded club was not conducive to people spilling alcohol all night. And my long necklace, not conducive to people pushing past you and taking you with them. But never ye fear! I went to dance and so I danced! We danced in a big group circle. We salsa-ed with random Argentines. It was our best night out yet. The lights weren't even blinking too fast; I could see and dance!

By 6 am we were beat. It take a lot of energy to balance in your heels in a crowded club first starting at 3 am. We planned to take a taxi home. Ah plans. The taxis out front wanted 50 pesos. I didnt care. Thats how you get home. But my friend didn't want to pay that much so we walked away from the club, about 15 minutes down the road. So did 300 other people. By some miraculous stroke of luck we finally got a cab at 7am. Good morning and good night.

While Saturday proved that you definitely don't need things to go according to plan to have a BLAST, Sunday proved that no plan is just as good. After finally rolling out of bed halfway through the day, we gathered at the hostel to watch Spain vs. Holland.

VIVA ESPANA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The best part of the game was being in a Spanish-speaking country where the announcer yells GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!! It was a lazy but necessary day of recuperation.

And today I did more planning. Working on the arrangements for my excursions North, South and West and my sleeping arrangements since I leave my beautiful apartment Thursday. And taking a brief break at the Japonese Botanical Gardens.

When people invented blogs, I don't think they planned for people to write such long-winded posts. So much for plans.

BESOS!

Buenos Aires Underground: The Subte

Although today was my first successful trip on the colectivo (the bus) all by my lonesome, I still prefer the Subte.

A lot less intricate than the New York subway system, the Subte has about 5 lines, labeled by color and letter. I live on the Green Line or the D which runs along Palermo's main drag, Santa Fe. It actually stops right outside my window - although so does a regular train that makes a lot of noise. No worries...I sleep heavy. Nothing can wake the dead.

Anywho, a Subte ride is about 1.10 pesos (about 30 cents). Gotta love the dollar right now. I slip through the turnstile and down the stairs to what is generally a very pretty subte platform. There are vendors selling magazines and newswires, gum and candybars. But in larger stations, large kiosks (bigger than you'd find in the middle of the mall) sit selling watches, jewelry, books etc. On the D Line the walls are generally decorated in murals of painted tile often telling a piece of Buenos Aires history.

When the car pulls into the station, you can tell how old it is by how much graffitti plasters the side of the yellow-painted metal. The seats are covered in that felt-y kind of fabric - some cars have seats that are more like couches. And when you hear the siren that the doors are closing, the doors are ACTUALLY closing. Don't tempt them. They close fast. And hard. I think they could kill you.

People sell goods on the train - though they have a different style than New York. Instead of making a sales pitch for those delicious M&Ms, Argentines hand out their goods. They give them to you. They just place their magazine, or sheet of stickers, or hair ties on your lap and walk all the way down the subte car doing the same for every seated passenger. Conveniently, there are no doors separating the cars, only open air. The cars are connected by an accordian of plastic. So, then they come back around and collect all of their commodities. It's like I was given a gift for 2 whole minutes!

But the best are the subte performers. These artists grant the title "Subway Performer" new meaning. You have three little Mexican guys playing guitar and singing mariachi in New York, ha! We'll one up you. We've got a four man band with a drummer who has a box drum and a symbol (ON A STAND!), a bassist with an amp, a guitarist, and a plastic piano/clarinet player (the Playskool kind) AND we will all sing in 3 or 4 part harmony while doing it. So there. OR how about a full on magician - trunk and all?

And the people of Buenos Aires are a gracious audience. In New York, people feel like if you applaud you're screwed. That's it. You've acknowledged that you listened to them and now you have to hand over the dough. Here, people applaud generously. There was even someone who whooped and hollered for the magician. They don't necessarily give money - although some do. Their willingness to devote their attention and enjoy themselves simply speaks to that Argentinian warmth I feel a lot of in this city.

And with that I say with all the warmth in my heart: BESOS!

There was landing and there was settling: the first week.

Wow. The end of Week One. I can't believe it has only been seven days. I feel like I've been here forever. I suppose that is a product of my having nothing to do but explore and settle. So I have explored and settled.

I slept in on Wednesday after my big day of walking on Tuesday. Another disappointing day for my friends at the World Cup. After Argentina lost, my friends decided to cheer for Germany, since Tristan is German. At first, it didn't really matter to me either way. I told Tristan I would cheer for his team. But then I got to the game and I just felt more for the Spanish team. What's more, Rafa is from Spain and my love runs deep enough that I felt I should cheer for his country. Cheering for Spain in a room full of about 150 Germans is not so smart, so I sat quietly eating my omlette (YAY PROTEIN!) and sipping my licuado de frutilla y banana.

When Germany lost, Tristan and his friends cried. Real tears. So sad. They all went to drown their sorrows in alcohol. But Carlos and I ventured to the MALBA (El Museo del Arte Latinoamericana de Buenos Aires). Together, we successfully navigated the bus there (hooray!) and spent a couple of hours looking around at some modern Latin American art. I think it's official. I really just like classical European art. I may be a snob. Too soon to tell.

There were some cool moving pieces that played with light and shape. We had this great philosophical debate on art vs science all in Spanish. Pieces of art with mechanisms that bend light etc always remind me of little exhibits I saw at the Science Center as a kid. But to him, mechanism has very little to do with the message of the piece. Together, we made our visit a worthwhile experience.

We saw an incredibly controversial exhibit that I didn't like with basically pornographic photos - but to like a gross sense. Ah art. The boundaries you push.

Then we ate at the cafe next to my apartment before wasting time at my apartment so we didn't end up out too early. Here, you absolutely cannot go out until 11:30. And I'm not talking about the actual fun part, I'm talking about the pre-gaming, drinking, eating part. That happens around 11/11:30. The actual fun, partying part can't happen until 2 am - which is considered on time instead of fashionably late. I tell you, my body clock is so out of whack I don't think I know where I am. But I do know that I have cool friends and I am having fun.

So we went to a bar around 12am until - all of a sudden - the hour struck and waiters basically threw the tables up against the walls to clear space for the dance floor. Restaurant/bars are actually restaurant/bar/clubs. We stayed until about 3:15 and made an "early night" of it.

Yesterday I went grocery shopping first thing in the morning and had another first rate experience with the Argentine machismo. Walking around the supermarket I bumped into a boy. He said hi, so I said hi. Then he told me he wanted to cook for me. Just like that. But he said the problem was that his shoulder hurt so much from when he has to stir for so long at the stove. He turned to me and told me to rub my hands together really fast. So I did....Then he hoists up the sleeve of his shirt and tells me to put my hands on his shoulder. Well I had no choice but to do it. Where am I? Who does this? Oh right, Buenos Aires. Argentine men.

Yesterday I went to the zoo. It was a lot bigger than I expected for being smack dab in the center of Palermo. The elephants were awesome. One of them kept raising her trunk and opening her mouth for people to throw food to her. The baboons were hysterical and the lemurs were so graceful in their balance. It almost looked like they were trapeze artists...or dancers ;)

Then I went boutique-ing in Palermo. Some clothing is very plain. Some is really strange - patchworky and made of all different textiles, which is cool for people who are into that sort of thing. But a lot of things are nice and I was in an "I love clothes mood." If I had all the money in the world.....

I stopped in a little mod Mediterranean cafe for some tea (did I mention it's SO COLD HERE??). Enjoy the heatwave everyone. For me. I beg you.

Last night my friends and I went to Club Araoz for their weekly hip hop night, Lost. I'm shocked by how much American music they listen to here. I'd say it's 85% American music and the rest a bit of Salsa Regaetone. I flopped into bed and planned to sleep indefinitely.

Luckily, I did wake up..haha. I subwayed to El Centro and schlepped my butt to the Sheraton to try and make plans for all of the outings I want to do around the country. Guess what? They don't make those plans at the concierge desk. They have a travel agency. They were closed. 9 de Julio. Independence Day. Damn.

So I glanced at my map and happily saw that I was near Puerto Madero. I could go to Punte de la Mujer - a famous contemporary bridge that is shaped like a pair of tango dancers. As it turns out, things that look close on a map are not so close in real life. But I had gone thus far, I trekked on. Gosh darnit I made it to that bridge and I have this zoomed out picture to prove it.

Then I dragged my tush to the Galerias Pacifico (the famous mall) that I had passed on the way to the Sheraton, at which point in the morning I had said to myself "Oh good, I'll stop there in two hours on my way back."

Four hours later, I plopped down at a cafe just under the archways of infamous ceiling paintings and next to the luxurious water fountain. It was relaxing. I finally made it back home, changed for shul and ran out the door. Now changing for shul is silly since they wear jeans here, but it feels more like Shabbat to me when I dress up. So I dress up and stick out like a sore thumb. But that works for me.

Alan met us inside Bet Hillel after guards confronted Rachel and I with the third degree. It was so intense. What is your name? How old are you? Why are you here? How did you find out about us? How do you know Alan (our host)? How do you know each other? Phew. Then they did it again when we reached the door, because our first interrogation was on the street corner preceding the building.

Services were beautiful and I couldn't believe that it was already my second Shabbat abroad. Crazy. The days are slow but the weeks are fast here in the Southern Hemisphere and I'm tired already. BESOS!

Bikram Yoga Buenos Aires

Being a Bikram yogi is kind of like being a Jew: your practice is the same no matter where you go.

I climbed the stairs up to the studio - which compared to New York and even CT is incredibly spacious - and immediately felt home. There's an entire lobby area for checking in before you enter the big red sauna with mirros lining that walls on THREE SIDES. GENIUS! There's also a little Zen sitting area up the stairs and opposite the locker rooms.

My instructor's name was Isabel. She was fantastic. The class was a great review for my "Body" vocab. Hips, knees, ankles, shoulders, chest, thumbs. You name it, we used it.

I actually understood everything she said and I loved how the English names of the postures translate so well to Spanish. Halfmoon pose: medialuna. Full locust (airplane): avion. Eagle: aguila. She kept driving us to "empuje, Empuje, EMPUJE...cambio" and "estire, EStire, ESTIRE...cambio."

Fall back, more back, way back just turned into "mas atras, mas atras, mas atras."

Even though Buenos Aires is incredibly humid as a city, the room was bearable and I had a great class. I think it's just because my adrenaline was up I was SO excited to a take a class in Spanish.

After class I met the director, who is American. His name is Jay, hehe. He and his wife went to training about 9 or 10 years ago and were living in Dallas and wanted to open a studio. They moved to Buenos Aires specifically to open a studio. Caveat: Jay's wife is Chilean so they were going to open up in Santiago, but there was already competition there. So they picked Buenos Aires simply so they could be the only ones. Yogis crack me up. I think "yogi" probably means healthy vagabond in another language.

This was especially evident when I added my little pushpin to the map on the wall. WOOHOO! I made my mark.

Namaste

Despite my plans to go to Thelonius on Sunday, I never made it there. I decided to go up to the common area of my hostel and see what was going on. Best decision ever.

There were a bunch of kids just hangin around, listening to music. Here is your new cast of characters: Alex (UVM grad '09 who has been living in Chile for the past 8 months), Tristan (German who has already traveled the world by age 22, Australia, Bali, China, schooled at Oxford and now takes Spanish here for 2 months), Nina (Swiss girl, met Tristan in Spanish class), Natalie (German friend of Tristan), Claudia (Columbian girl who lives at the hostel and speaks very little English), Carlos (on vacation from Sao Paolo, Brazil - he and I get along the best).

Sunday night we all decided to head to Plaza Serrano. It turns out that no matter how dedicated people are to the nightlife here, Sunday night is still a bit more mellow. We went to a bar where there was live jazz karaoke. It was small and nice and I started singing along. Well then Tristan was dedicated to getting me up there to sing. The problem was, all of the performers were from a voice school, so they wouldn't let me up there. So he insisted that I sing at the table and the entire walk home.

We headed back relatively early so I got my first night of normal sleep. Monday I moved to my apartment. It's farther from the center of town and from my new friends, but really nice to have a bathroom and a mirror readily accessible.

Fernando's mom, Sima, greeted me here. She helped me get settled in - showed me the jacuzzi on the upstairs balcony (important things like that). Then she toured me around the neighborhood, which I pretty much knew from all the walking I've been doing. Her help probably would have been AMAZING when I first got here. Although it was reassuring to know that I had navigated correctly on my own. She helped me get a phone and told me where to change money. Problems solved now. She took me to a little cafe in Alto Palermo - an elegant little shopping mall.

I had my first Almojar. Delicious. It's basically a cookie sandwich: two white cookies with dulce de leche in the middle. Dulce de leche is what Buenos Aires is famous for. It's basically caramel but sweeter and less sticky and you can have it in a more liquidy form or a more taffy-like form. In an almojar it's just kind of gooey and milky rich in taste. It was SO sweet of her to treat me.

After 2.5 hours with Sima, her grandson Alan met up with me. We strolled over to yet another cafe - they're cafe culture is no joke. There I had a licuado which is somewhere between a smoothie and flavored milk. My licuado de banana was so yummy. We spoke switching back and forth between Spanish and English and he invited me to his shul (or shil) this Friday. The little old woman next to us overheard and began to talk to us all about her Jewish upbringing and her granddaughter who I guess is away at school and very active.

She also asked me where I was from and when she heard New York had to ask me if I knew these two Jewish girls who she knows that live there. Well, obviously New York's Jewish community is quite a bit larger than she realized. She is going to join us at Bet Hillel on Friday.

That's what I mean about the people. In America they might be considered invasive or aggressive, but I think they're just super friendly.

After my relocation and two cafe stops, I finally got a start to my day at 3 pm. I took the subte down to Avenida Florida which is in the Financial District of Buenos Aires. It's a cross between the Financial District and the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I went to explore Museo Mitre. Emilio Mitre was a famous miliarty man and the museum is his house. This was the type of tour I like: self-guided, set up to show you how the person lived, light history lesson along the way.

Of course the most fascinating room to me was the library. It was stuffed to the brim with old editions that lined all four long walls. I found it so beautiful. On my way out I stopped to thank the older man and younger woman who had welcomed me. I ended up talking to them for 45 minutes about my trip and where else I should go and what to do and what to see.

They asked me if my parents were worried about me traveling alone - I think we all know the answer to that one. Valeria and Marcellino were just too cute. Again, friendly people.

There is more - feel free to pause here and return later to read about Monday night through Tuesday.

Monday night my new friends and I went to the Konex Center to see a live drum show from a band called La Bomba del Tiempo. Peronsally, I liked the drum band at the street fair better, but the scene on Monday was so cool. We were basically in an open plaza packed in tight. But Argentines don't just stand and bob their heads to music. They DANCE. So we danced for hours to this drum band until the show ended around 10:30. We headed back to Plaza Serrano and ate dinner because we were starving. They make good pizza here.

I tried to get an earlier start to my day yesterday. It almost worked. After lunch (I had missed breakfast) I went to the bank to change money. They were giving me a hard time but this one really nice teller helped me out and got me the money. He also friended me on facebook later. See, aggressive to the point of invasiveness. I actually laughed because when I had left the bank I had thought to myself "that would be a new way to make friends."

Anywho, I finally went on my walking tour through Recoleta. I started by getting lost on the bus. Then I took a cab to the infamous Cementario de Recoleta. The cemetary is a small city. Row after row of sarcophogi pay tribute to important families of Buenos Aires. These sarcophogi are so big, they may as well be houses. Some of them have staircases that lead to underground chambers. Others, you can just pull back the layer of cobwebs, look through the glass and see the coffins. It's kind of creepy to think that there are people in there.

Important military men generally have statues that go along with their sarcophogi. I wonder how important you have to be to have a palace like this one.

Of course I visited Eva Peron. You'd think that after all she did she would have a more prominent spot in the cemetary. But her tomb is definitely the most decorated.

At another tomb the statue of the woman and her dog should bring you good luck if you rub the dog's nose.

After having enough of the dead, I wandered past the Facultad de Ingeniera. Impressive in size and original architecture, I don't understand why the engineers can't get it together and maintain the building better. I then wandered into the Design mall. It's a mall dedicated entirely to housewares. Obviously it was the architecture I enjoyed.

Crossing La Plaza Francia, I looked at the Floralis which is a huge metal flower whose petals close according to the amount of sunlight present. Just in front of it is El Museo de Las Bellas Artes. I dunno how much bellas artes is really inside - it wasn't totally my style. So I left and wandered through a church and then to the 5th avenue of Buenos Aires.

I had planned to have afternoon tea at the Alvear Palace Hotel. It is unbelievably gorgeous and of course requires a dress code I did not meet. So I will go back another day. Instead, I stopped into a cafe for some food because I knew I wanted to go to yoga. I almost died from the richness and sweetness of my panqueques de dulce de leche. Similar to crepes, I had no idea what to expect when I ordered them. I figured I'd try it and see what the order brought me. Yay for trying foreign desserts.

I made it home in time to grab some clothes for yoga and head to class. One of the best classes I've ever taken, I love this class in Spanish. More on that later.

Rejuvenated, I walked back to the hostel to see my friends. There were a few additions: a guy from Costa Rica, a girl from Rio, another guy from Sao Paolo, a guy from Portugal, Tristan's girlfriend from Greece. The amount of languages being spoken was unbelievable. Even between those who speak Portuguese there is so much variation they couldn't understand each other. We settled on a mix of English and castellano (the Spanish here) before anyone got dizzier.

And that concludes this chapter of Ruthie in Argentina. Now I must get ready for the day ahead of me.