A Final Note

It's been 60 hours since I arrived home to Connecticut from my 47 day adventure in Argentina.

And now, I have a LOT of thoughts.

I am glad to be home....It's not so much that I was homesick. I kept in touch with a lot of you while I was gone, which made it easier to be away. But I have to say, I missed America. I never knew how much I liked the American lifestyle or how well I relate to Americans until I was abroad.

A list of things I missed:
1. Throwing toilet paper in the toilet. (Perhaps that's TMI, but that's life.)
2. Being able to be in and out of a restaurant in an hour for a full meal instead of 2 hours for a coffee.
3. Knowing that the cops are there to help you.
4. Knowing that when you get in a cab the meter will not suddenly jump 6 pesos in 2 seconds and that your cab driver will take you to where you asked. [Note: this was only one time, but I was warned about sketchy cabs when I first got to Buenos Aires. I was safe. Don't worry.]
5. Using a wallet in a purse instead of reaching into my money belt every ten seconds (which looked like I took my money out of my underwear.)
6. Drinking water from the tap.
7. Consistent heat (or air conditioning) and hot water. Invaluable.

As I readjust to life in America, I have to say that the past 6.5 weeks were absolutely incredible. To think that I was in the city, in the mountains, at the waterfalls, walking on glaciers and sailing to the end of the world all in a month and a half is overwhelming. But I did it.

In the most modest way possible, I am so proud of myself. I have wanted to take this trip for the past two years and finally I made it happen. It may have been planned a little late for a trip of its magnitude, but I almost think it's better. I proved to myself how badly I wanted it and got my act together for the best post-graduation memory ever.

As for my goals for this trip, I think I accomplished all of them.

Speaking Spanish. When I first arrived I thought that my Spanish was ok. Definitely sufficient to get by in a Spanish-speaking country. And it was enough...to get by. The thing is, I was taught something between Spanish Spanish and Mexican Spanish in high school - which is why a lot of people thought I was from Latin America or Puerto Rican. For all those who just laughed that someone might think I'm Puerto Rican, you had the same reaction I did. Ridiculous.

During week two, I had started speaking Spanish (well, castellano - Argentine Spanish) literally all day. Morning til night with my friend Carlos from Sao Paolo, Brazil. My head pounded in pain. It was as if my brain was resisting an English detox and week two was the equivalent of humpday. But after two straight days of headaches I never wanted to speak Spanish again. So the English-speaking friends I had avoided in the beginning - in the name of learning the language - I began to seek out instead.

But once I started traveling to cities outside Buenos Aires, the locals I met were a) easier to understand and b) more willing to help me with my castellano. I had some vocabulary lessons from my friend Nacho who arranged all of my Mendozan excursions. When people gave me a chance to make mistakes, I learned from them.

Traveling really pushed me to perfect my castellano. If I thought people didn't speak English in Buenos Aires, the locals of the other cities showed me. With no choice and no pressure, I was really able to speak freely and practice. And people were generally impressed that I had only learned Spanish in school and not in another country. By the end of my trip I felt pretty fluent. I transitioned easily between English and Spanish when I needed to and I sounded a bit more like a South American citizen (most people thought I was from Venezuela in my last week and a half).

Now, I really feel like I speak Spanish. My teacher from my junior year of high school had convinced me a long time ago that the only way to truly learn a language is to go to a country and speak it. He also believed that you have to go for at least 3-4 months.

After going to Argentina I agree that traveling abroad the way to learn a language the way people actually speak it. Spanish is a language in which slang is deeply pervasive to the point where countries have entirely different words for objects and verbs - let alone different pronunciations for common words. As for the time requirement, I think it depends on the person and their drive. I think I learned the language. I'm back to being fluent!

Using the language, I experienced the cultures of multiple regions of Argentina and obviously had a ton of fun.

But the most valuable lessons I learned were ones of independence. I navigated a country on my own. I bought airlines tickets, booked hostels, and managed 6 cities in 6 weeks. I went alone but made a TON of new friends from all over the world. From my friends, I learned all about international customs and a few words from other languages.

I learned to hear my gut and I have actually started to trust it. I've learned to do the things I want instead of the things I feel I should do. For example, when everyone told me to spend my second and final day in El Calafate at El Chalten instead of on the glacier boat I chose to do what I really wanted. And I loved it. YAY progress with decision-making! I also learned to relax and go with the flow and be bit more spontaneous. The best experiences are not always planned.

I guess you could say this was a successful "independence" study.

As much as I learned while traveling alone, I haven't decided if I'd do it again. I think next time I'd prefer to bring along a partner in crime and share the experience with someone. I also haven't decided if I'll travel for that long a period of time again. I guess it all depends on where I go.

A lot of travelers I met abroad were traveling for months at a time. Sometimes I felt that I was less of a world traveler because I missed home or I was only away from a month and a half. I did realize that I love home and as much as I want to see the world, it's ok to see the world in shorter spurts. It's ok to like home and there is no right way to explore the globe.

And so, I have come out of Argentina having learned a lot about myself and a lot Spanish. But most importantly, I had a fantastic time doing it.

Thank you all for accompanying me on my journey. Thank you to Rachel for taking care of me when I first got to BsAs and for lending me a winter coat. Thank you to Fernando, Alan and Sima for making me at home in BsAs. And a final thank you to my amazing parents for supporting me in this endeavor.

For the last time: BESOS!!!!!

Last Licks

So this is it. The final countdown. I arrived back in Buenos Aires 24 hours ago, and I have 24 hours until I leave. I am definitely excited to come home. But that doesn't mean I didn't have a total blast here.

People seem to think the two are mutually exclusive. That if I want to come home it must mean that I didn't have a good time. Au contraire. I just feel that I accomplished my goals. I did what I came to do and now I am ready to return to the American lifestyle I didn't know I loved until I left.

But before I jetset home, I decided to have my last licks in Buenos Aires. Last night I had a traditional Argentine meal at approximately 11:15pm. None of my friends are in town because Monday is a national holiday and everyone has a long weekend. So...there were literally zero people to go out with. I was bummed that my last Saturday night in Buenos Aires was so lame, but it's not like I was deprived of the BA nightlife scene while I was here. Nothing lost, nothing gained.

I guess the perk was that at 9:30 am when my alarm went off I was conscious. I went shopping and - drumroll please -----------------------------------------------------I BOUGHT BOOTS. After searching the entire city top to bottom, I bought my boots. They were the first ones I ever liked, naturally. It's just like me though. I had to know. I have two pairs of boots from Argentina and I can't wait to show them off to all of you back home. One short, grey pair of high heels and one tall, tan pair of medium heels. I know you wanted the details. They're even better in person.

I wandered around Avenida Florida for a bit. It seemed really empty. Either I was awake before the entire city, or I am one of the only people here on the holiday weekend. Maybe a bit of both.

Then, I had plans to meet my friend Jan from Calafate at 1:30 so we could go to the San Telmo Fair together. I had wasted the entire morning because I got my shopping done so fast. But, of course, I had wandered too far from any subway stop. It was 1:30 when I first got on a subway and I was freaking out. There was no way she would still be there when I got there. I switched from the D line to the C line. It was already 1:40. But sitting in my car was a familiar face. I never forget a face. Apparently neither does this guy. We had met for 10 seconds on the bus to the National Park in Ushuaia. He was going to the fair too.

So he and I ventured on, looking for Jan. No sign. We decided to go to the fair and see if we could find her.

SO MANY PEOPLE. There was no way.

Frenchman and I wandered for a while, talking about Argentina and travel and the history of the fair. It turns out, he's a Parisian Jew. Kinda cool. And it also turns out that in the middle of talking about keeping kosher you could literally bump into...Jan!!

The three of us walked around for a while until Frenchman had to leave to take a bus to Iguazu. Jan and I were on a mission to find all of the last presents we were looking for. We did it! But we also had a great time looking at all the knicknacks people were selling and just chit-chatting the whole way.

We also stopped for a short meal that ended up being an hour and a half. We forgot. We're in Argentina. There is no such thing as a short meal.

But we made it through and walked through the antique part of the fair. I don't know who buys that stuff, but it's fun to look at. And as the sun set we bought our final purchases and came out the other side of the fair right in front of the Casa Rosada.

It was perfectly poetic. The Casa Rosada and the Catedral were the first places I visited here in Buenos Aires. It only makes sense that these should be the last landmarks I saw. So I say goodbye to the city the same way I said hello.

Just writing now, it is a bit sad that my adventure is coming to an end. It was one wild ride. Full of awesomeness. Tomorrow is my last chance to tie up loose ends, say goodbye to my friends and speak some good old castellano Spanish.

I promise to make the most of it.

More reflections tomorrow.

BESOS!

Sea Lions and Penguins and Huskies, Oh My!

Apparently, Ushuaia is the place to ski. But, I don't ski.

So instead, I spent my day with lots of animals in the Arctic climate of Ushuaia. I took a boat ride in the Beagle Channal for a few hours. Whooo, it was really cold yesterday. But we sailed right up to the island where the sea lions lay all day long. They are so funny-looking. They're really fat and they fight with each other, trying to push one another off the rocks, and they sound like honking cars all the while. Really, they are uglier than they are cute. I find I prefer seals to sea lions, though it was cool to see them in their natural habitat.

The boat pulled away and we journeyed on to the lighthouse at the end of the world. Unless you pay 25 grand to go to Antarctica, this is the most southern lighthouse on the face of the earth. Pretty sweet. I was even farther south than when I was in the park yesterday.

We drove on and came to the island with the long-necked penguins. Technically, they aren't penguins. They just look like penguins with long necks. But they've got one up on penguins. They can fly. They're beautiful birds and I was within five feet of one of them. On our next stop we got off on a little island so that we were flanked by Chile on the left and Argentina on the right. Our guide taught us a bit about the indigenous people who first settled at the end of the world.

It was a relaxing morning...something to do. Not the most super excursion I'd been on but fun to see the animals.

In the afternoon I got to watch more tennis! Wooohooo! I watched RAFA kick some booty. And David Nalbandian was playing. The Argentines love him (because he's Argentine). What's funny is that they LOVE him and don't even care about Del Potro. It's funny because Del Potro has actually won a grand slam, yet they call Nalbandian King David.

Last night I had a great outing in Tierra del Mayor. I went dogsledding and snow-shoeing!!! When we first got there we had a little time to meet the dogs. Our sled was led by five white dogs and our leader Husky, Arnie. We rode about 2 kilometers. The dogs are really friendly to people but they do not like each other. Territorial is an understatement. I thought they were gonna tear each other apart with their teeth when we pulled over and they had to sit together.

We had a nice little dinner around a campfire with mulled wine. It's amazing how in the middle of a frozen wasteland a good fire - and some mulled wine - can keep 20 people warm. One of our guides, Carolina, brought out her guitar and they were singing classic Spanish tunes. She could tell that my friend and I felt left out being from the States. So she sang Proud Mary. It was priceless listening to her do her English accent. And then after dinner we snow-shoed back. It was a nice little walk and snow-shoeing is pretty easy. You just walk normally. I was a little bummed we didn't have the old-fashioned tennis rackets on, but what are you gonna do? The advances of technology to make things easier. Damn.

And now I am waiting for my flight back to Buenos Aires.

Two nights until I fly home!!

BESOS!

Ushuaia: the end of the world

Yesterday I arrived in the southernmost point of Argentina/the world. Google it on a map. It's pretty crazy that I'm here. And I didnt make up the name. It's real.

I arrived at Antarctica Hostel and immediately met up with two friends, one who I had made in Salta and an Israeli guy I had met in Calafate. The Israeli guy and I went out to get our passports stamped so that I have proof I was at the end of the world, and then to eat. Did I mention I was starving? It was practically blizzarding outside, which seemed normal to me. My Israeli friend was so excited to see snow.

At least now, there was a reason for the cold. Although, to be honeset, other places in this country were colder. It doesn't make any sense. I am in Antarctica and I'm not that cold. In fact, I can go outside without gloves and be comfortable. Silly. I met a ton of people almost immediately here. Everyone is super friendly. We had a mate circle, which I loved and just talked. Then, my night was made whole. Tennis was on tv. I watched Rafael Nadal kick some swiss butt when he beat Wawrinka in straight sets at the Rogers Masters in Toronto.

But I sidetrack. Ushuaia.

I woke up at a decent hour this morning to take the bus to El Parque Nacional de Tierra del Fuego. My friend Monique and I hiked the entire trail. The park is really beautiful all covered in snow. We trudged through the trails and slid down others. We saw some red foxes and some rabbits, too. It was a nice daytime activity for a few hours. We walked all the way to the end of the earth which is just so cool. It is the fartherst point you can walk to on earth! - well unless you're a scientist and get special permission and a team to go to actual Antarctica.

By 3pm we were back on the bus to town and pretty tired. Hiking is awesome. I'm actually a huge fan. But the snow makes it harder and we were pooped.

It was a pretty simple day. I think I'm winding down at the same pace as my trip. Still enjoying my last few days, but I'm happy to just relax in the winter weather and sip mate with my new friends. And listen to some Christmas music. I can't help it. It feels like winter to me. Hence, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reigndeer.

BESOS!

Icebergs and Glaciers

After walking on glaciers Monday, I was having a tough time deciding what to do on Tuesday since all of the activities in El Calafate are full day adventures. Originally, I had three days planned, but it turns out I had to pick between hiking in El Chalten and going on a boat ride through the rest of the glaciers.

Hands down, everyone said to go to Chalten. But something was nagging at me. I came to Calafate to see glaciers. So I decided that even if it would be repetitive, that the boat ride was what I wanted.

Boy am I thrilled that I went with my gut! It was an absolutely incredible day. I left the hostel before 7am to book my ticket on the boat...a bit of last minute planning. But when I got to the Catamaran the family from Barcelona that had been on my minitrekking trip was in line for the boat.

It's funny how you can just connect with people. I mean, yes, this family was on my minitrekking tour. But they were in another group. I don't even think I said two words to any of the three of them all day. And yet, when I saw them in line for the boat we all got so excited to see each other. The power of a familiar face.

And so we spent the day together on the deck of the boat. So many people stayed inside. I was shocked. It felt AMAZING to be outside cruising the channels of Lake Argentina. It was extremely windy. So much so that the son of the family, Arturo, and I leaned back into the wind and it held us up.

Soon we were on our way to the Upsala glacier, the largest of the glaciers down here. As we sailed through the canal, we started to see icebergs!! All I could think of was Titanic. Not in the scary, oh-my-goodness-I'm-going-to-die kind of way, but in the wow icebergs are huge and no wonder it tore a hole in a cruiseship. The icebergs started out flat and wide, like huge blue-white stepping stones in the green water. Oh yeah, today the water was green - halfway between mint and aquamarine. Actually, exactly like opal green. I know opals aren't green, but when the lights hits them there is a certain streak of green that shines. That was the color of my entire view since there was water pretty much as far as the eye could see.

We made it to the Upsala glacier. It's three times the size of Perito Moreno and four times the size of Buenos Aires. We could only get as close at 15 kilometers because of all of the icebergs in the way. It was a vast vast plain of white, like a jagged bridge adjoining two mountains. We only idled for a few minutes because we were so far away before venturing on to the Spegazzini glacier.

Through the Spegazzini Canal we saw UNBELIEVABLE glaciers. I wanted to hop off the boat and climb on them. There were icebergs with arches. Icebergs with caves. Icebergs in funny shapes. Icebergs that just towered above the catamaran. The icebergs were the same sparkling blue as Perito Moreno, but free-floating.

Then we arrived at the Spegazzini glacier. I think this one is the prettiest. We crept up to it so that we were only about 200 meters away. The glacier cascades down the side of a beautiful mountain peak until it flattens out on the water. And....WE SAW IT RUPTURE. I am the luckiest girl ever. I couldn't believe I watched two different glaciers rupture. And this one was waaaay up close. We felt the repurcussions on the boat as we rocked back and forth. My Spanish family and I were speechless. We took so many photos together and of each other that everyone thought I was their daughter. Well, they adopted me for the day.

The boat backtracked through the Spegazzini Canal to our third stop, Perito Moreno. I wasn't that excited since I had already seen the glacier for the entire day before. That'll show me. We saw the third and only other visible side of the glacier and.....the biggest most grand rupture anyone has ever seen (ok maybe not anyone ever, but yeah). An entire wall of the glacier, from top to three quarters of the way down cracked and just slid down in to the water crashing and busting.

My day was complete. Clearly, I made the right choice.

That night I met up with Jan and some other friends in the hostel for my last night there. Jan, another guy from Texas, a British couple, one Argentine and I all went out to eat. We wolfed down our food and then sat. Waiting for the Argentine to eat his little personal pizza. We were all on pins and needles. Looking at each other like "he's going to take a bite soon, I know he is." I finally couldn't handle it and went to the bathroom. Came back. The same piece of pizza was on his fork from before. Seriously? I know Argentines like to eat slowly and like indulge in their food, but we were all clearly waiting for just him. Cultural differences, haha.

I was sad to leave Calafate the next day. I really LOVE the town and my hostel was so nice and clean and warm. I slept in a sports bra and pj pants my last night. Amazing. It takes so little to make me happy.

But onwards to Ushuaia and the end of the world!

BESOS!

Walkin on, Walkin on, broken glaciers (doo doo doo doo)

I skip a mostly uneventful weekend to bring you my Patagonian adventures from Monday in El Calafate:

Wow. Another day of crazy adventures and awe-some views.

My tour left at 8:30 this morning (a bit more reasonable an hour) to go to the Perito Moreno glacier. We took a short busride through El Calafate - my current city of inhabitance - to pick up the rest of the passengers on our tour. I LOVE IT HERE. The town is just so beautiful and peaceful. It's exactly what I needed after a bit of a hectic weekend in Buenos Aires. It's so...lodgy. My hostel is like a wood cabin - except with heated floors. Everything is just rustic and homey. The perfect place to relax and enjoy.

And...it's NOT THAT COLD HERE. Do you believe that Patagonia of all the places is where I am not cold and I am not wearing all of my clothes at once? After driving through town we started on our bus ride to the Perito Moreno glacier. We drove along Lago Argentino which was a beautiful shade of what I can only describe as crystal blue. Like Swarovksi or something. It just sparkled against the blanket white mountains. There were icebergs floating everywhere and the shore looked like a quaint arctic beach.

Our tour guide spoke to us about the history of El Parque Nacional de Los Glaciares and the wildlife that lives here. Apparently, pumas and condors are among the biggest animals that call Patagonia home. We even saw a few condors flying!! Their wingspan is about 3 meters long. Just imagine that swooping overhead. Powerful scavengers. Soon after I opened my eyes (the guide's voice put me to sleep a bit) and we were at the dock to take the boat across the lake to the glacier.

The glacier is AMAZING. It's just this huge carpet of ice bridging the gap between the shores of Lago Argentino. I also never knew how blue ice is. Ice glows blue. It's shimmering and irredescent and bright. And the shape of the glacier surface is brilliant. It's so random and jagged. Adds a bit of danger and fierce-ness to the sight of it. Once we pulled onto shore the cameras came out and our guides split us up into an English group and a Spanish group. I couldn't decide which to do since it's nice to meet locals and the guides speak better Spanish, but at the same time...the English group was smaller. Smaller = better when it comes to tours.

So I stayed with Marco for our English tour. Thank goodness I did. I met this awesome girl from Texas and a couple from England with whom she is travelling. We ended up spending the day together and we had a blast. Our guide led us up the shore to the map of the glaciers to explain to us the ecological facts and figures. Just as we turned our backs, the glacier ruptured. That's right. We heard a crash. Turned around. Dust and ripples in the water. A glacier rupture (extremely rare mind you) happened while we were there and we missed it. We were a bit disappointed. What are the chances of that happening again today? Marco was pessimistic: zero. Well...zero point five.

But it's ok. We were about to walk on the glacier!! It's the third biggest glacier in Argentina. So why were we on the third biggest? Marco thinks the publicity is best for Perito Moreno. Haha. That, and it's the easiest to get to. Perito Moreno is also a well-balanced glacier. It has a zone of accumulation and a zone of ablasion. Basically, Moreno has beaten global warming. As it melts, it also grows. In fact, sometimes it slides so far, it reaches the opposite shore creating a complete bridge and causing the water level of the lake to rize 15-20 meters. Pretty sick.

In preparation, we fastened our clampons. I felt like I was 5 years old again, getting ready to go ice-skating but with feet too little that they don't have skates small enough, so you wear clampons with your sneakers. We trekked down the shore and up onto the ice. I was WALKING ON THE GLACIER! You look really funny walking up a glacier. Marco told us to walk like ducks when going up and walk like monkeys when coming down. Basically, you have to keep your feet set wide apart so that you don't step on your own feet. You also have to take high steps so that your foot can come down with enough force that the clampons dig into the ice.

Trust me. You need to have your clampons stuck in the ice. The wind is so harsh here that it knocked people over. It's a cool feeling (and kind of funny) to stomp your feet into the glacier and feel the wind try to bowl you over and yet remain completely upright while other people - who didn't smash their feet in - blow all over the place in front of you. What can I say? I'm a natural glacier-walker. Haha. Or I just follow instructions and look like a duck and a monkey.

We walked by some lake/ponds on the glacier. The clearest water I ever saw. I felt like if I jumped in I'd fall straight through the earth and out the other side. (I don't know where that would put me, but that's just how clear and bottomless it looked.) Trekking through the ice was easier than I thought. I expected the ice to be really smooth and glassy everywhere, but it was pretty slushy where we were walking. We trekked in a single file line. It made me think of Vertical Limit or something. We went into a little ice borrow (see above left) and just hiked all along the craggy surface. Incredible. Then at the end, they served us alfajores and whisky. Hysterical. And they fill the whisky glasses with glacier ice. So I had a sip just to say I drank the glaciers. But whisky is not my drink. And I didn't even need it to warm me up!

And to think...when I was in Vegas I was upset that I couldn't go to the Ice Bar in the Mandalay Bay. Ha! I had whiskey on a glacier. In Argentina.

And then we descended the glacier and hiked through the forest for our late lunch. The view was just incredible. Imagine living in that log cabin and waking up to this every morning. Sigh. The song that popped into my head today was "The Prayer." Apparently, glaciers make me think of serenity, peace, grace and Charlotte Church.

After lunch we re-boarded the boat and the bus to drive to the balcony view of the eastern side of the glacier. OMG. They really should do this part of the tour first. Because you see Moreno from above and you think to yourself "I want to walk on that." Incredible. Jan and I (that's Texas girl) walked around the balconies for a while. When we heard a crash. OMG. OMG. It was happening again. Guess it's my lucky day since there was a 0.5 chance!! We saw part of the rupture this time. We watched the ice crash into the water, though we missed it break off the glacier. We got to the lowest balcony and just stood in awe. The glacier is larger than the city of Buenos Aires, it just extends as far as the eye can see until it blends with the clouds hovering over head.

We decided to start making our way back up through the trees to the bus. And then...a crack. OMG. Again?? We missed it. Damn trees. So we RAN back down to the low balcony to get a full view and not miss it. Could it really happen four times in one day? Yes. Yes it can. The last and final rupture was the coolest thing I have ever seen. This massive slice of glacier from the surface to about 3/4 of the way down just cracked like a paint chip off a wall and sagged and dropped in slow motion into the lake causing the entire lake to wave with the impact. I wish I had it on film....

And that was how we ended our day. Rupturing glaciers. Intense.

BESOS!

Bungee on the Bridge!!!!

Well, I had to go in the afternoon since I was going solo and there was no morning group. I was so amped up and ready to go by the time the van came to get me at 3pm. We drove an hour and a half to the bridge in Dique Cabra Corral. The bridge sits over this gorgeous river between two mountains. The girl in the same van as me bought the "adrenaline pack" so they had her do repelling, puenting and ziplining before I got set up. While she was, you know, having fun, a group of five other kids came to bungee.

Somehow I ended up first. Originally, I didn't think I wanted to go first, but when they told me I thought to myself, "Ok. Cool. I won't know what to expect since I haven't watched anyone, making it all the more fun and new." They locked me into my ankles braces and I climbed up onto the metal platform that extends perpendicular to the bridge. I looked down. It really wasn't that far. And the river looked soft just in case, haha. Really, it was only about 140 feet. Less than I had repelled over cold hard rocks.

I stood with my toes hanging over the edge and my fingers gripping the side railings. I raised my arms up...and had to put them back down and take a deep breath. Standing up there and leaning the tiniest bit forward without falling is way scarier than actually falling. But I told myself that it would be awesome and that I should just dive off like Pocahontas dives off that cliff in the beginning of her movie.

So I lifted my arms superman style and leaned forward. When I started falling I closed my eyes tightly. But when I felt like I was flying I opened them. INCREDIBLE. I opened my eyes before the bungee cord rebounded back on my body. Unfortunately, I didn't touch the water at all. I wanted to hit it with my hands...but they must have miscalculated my weight. Oh well. The water was way too cold to dunk. WAY too cold. Even the guys from the company told me not to dunk.

So the bungee pulled back and I kind of bounced around and spun and swung back and forth. It's the strangest feeling because you are just hanging upside down with no point of reference as to where you are in the world. SO exhilerating. I loved it. I got in the boat afterwards and then ran up all of the stairs from the dock to the top of the bridge. I was jumping and running around. My heart was raising, my lungs were pumping. The adrenaline felt awesome.

Really, the jump was no big deal. The feel itself is fantastic, but the jump itself...I don't know. Not terribly extreme. I'm super glad I did it.

Video footage to follow.

BESOS!

To Jujuy (it's just fun to say)

Although it is Tuesday, I'm going to write about last Thursday. Can't have you missing out on anything.

Day two of excursions and today on the agenda was Tilcara and Humahuaca in the most northern province of Jujuy - pronounced choo-choo-ee for the Jews out there (for the non-Jews, its not like a train). Today I was on a tiny tour of four people. I was one of the four. There was a couple from Santa Fe and a guy from Buenos Aires. Even though I was totally of a different generation, they were very sweet and we got along well enough for our day long excursion.

We started in Purmamarca, where I left off the day before. The colors are way more brilliant in the morning sun. Now I could actually see all of the seven colors in the seven colors hill. We even drove through the hill (well not through it, but through the valleys behind it). The red rock is really soft, it crumbles like clay at the mere touch of it. It's just crazy to think that rocks (not gems) can be purple or pink.

We journeyed onward towards Tilcara, stopping many times on the road to take pictures with the monstrous mountains we were casually driving around. My favorite part of the drive was seeing the mud brick houses and one room houses randomly spattered in the hills. People hanging laundry and sweeping their front step just off the road where Middle of Nowhere meets Beautiful Mountains. We paused in front of one of these houses to take pictures of the hills in Maimara. My tour guide was this old old man named Jorge with broken teeth. But he was so excited to have young blood on his tour. He was my personal photographer for the day and was spouting ancient knowledge about the mountain folk all day.

As we continued on to Tilcara I got excited to see the Incan ruins. Until Jorge told us that they were all reproductions. The only original is in Tucuman - a town not on the agenda. Despite the blow to my expectations, the ruins were cool. It was interesting to see how the people would haved lived in these tiny little stone huts on the height of mountains with no vegetation but forests of cacti. They must have been a resourceful people.

After wandering the ruins for half an hour we made it to the Archaeological Museum of Tilcara. If you are an archaeology nerd, Salta and Jujuy are for you. I am not so much an archaeology nerd, though I appreciated how important the recovered objects are to the history of Argentina and its people. I appreciated that the sun had come out and I removed one layer without being cold!

Back in the car, we drove onwards to Humahuaca - the northernmost point of the day. We stopped at the Tropic of Capricorn on our way. It's kind of cool to think that I was on a major line of latitude. We ate lunch in Humahuaca at the most meager little 'restaurant' that only exists because Humahuaca has become a turist stop. I think it was the only restaurant there. The town is about three blocks big. And this city made me decide that Salta and Jujuy are very much like Mexico.

The people have similar features, rounder faces, darker skin and they show their age. This one woman, I just loved her face. Her wrinkles were like folds in a well worn bedsheet. She wanted to sell me some earrings she had made. Just like in Mexico, the mall comes to you. All of the little artisans (and I mean little because they are a short people) hobble up to you trying to sell you silver bracelets or wood carved mate cups or hand-knit ponchos. Ponchos are not back in - not outside of the mountains. The men are also like Mexicans. While South American men are aggressive, the men here are just gross. The cat-calling the whistling and the kissing...I eventually ended up yelling at this 15 year old boys that I was not a dog. That's what I felt like. I mean you whistle and make kissing noises for a dog. Not a person. Ew. But anywho, I wandered around Humuhuaca amidst the vendors and up to the massive stone monument as the sun was setting.

We took a long drive to the capital of Jujuy, Jujuy. Here we stopped at the government building and saw the Salon de las Banderas where the origianl flag of Argentina is kept. Then we also visited La Catedral de Jujuy. That's another thing. Salta and Jujuy are very christ-y. I mean that in the most non-offensive way possible. It's just very Christian. Not spiritual. Just crosses and replicas of the Virgin Mary and churches everywhere. I think that may have to do with why I didn't dig the vibe there. The sites I saw were lovely, and the people I met were great, but I suppose I prefer Mendoza to Salta.

The best part about Salta was when Kristian taught me how to play pool. Do yo know that I have been trying to play lefty my whole life? Newsflash: I'm not a lefty. It went like this. I shot horrifically - which I had warned him about. Then Kristian went to shoot creating a bridge with his left hand. So I said, you're a lefty? And he goes, no. And then I learned how to shoot pool for real. Turns out I'm not that terrible.

One day left in Salta. About half of my trip had been on the anthropological/educational side, so I decided to end my trip with a bang.

Friday I went bungee jumping. Yup. My long-awaited dream of jumping off a bridge over a river (thank you Mandy Moore in Chasing Liberty) was finally going to happen!!!

BESOS!!!

To the Clouds!

I'm getting used to this rising-when-it's-dark-outside thing. It was my third day in Salta (Wednesday). Kristian and I looked like the walking dead at 6:30 in the morning, but we were excited for our trip to the clouds. We boarded the van at about 7:30 (once again Argentina never runs on time) and started off our drive into the mountains of the province of Salta.

We followed the path of El Tren a Las Nubes (the train to the clouds). The train was originally built to facilitate imports and exports between Argentina and Chile. But by the time it was finished, it was economically inefficient. So now, it's a tourist train through the mountains. To their credit, it is a very pretty drive. Our first stop was the Viaduct. Being winter, there was basically no water beneath it, but the mountains were beautiful even in the overcast morning weather.

The tour was a lot of stop and go. We hit three main points past the Viaduct and on the way got our every so often to take pictures of rocks. Sounds boring, but with rocks that pretty it wasn't. Our first official stop was in San Antonio de Los Cobres. I was told I had to go there. To be honest, I'm not sure why. We took some pictures of the tiny tiny town over a desert-like hillside and met some of the locals. They were only interested in selling their wares. They live off of tourist visits. Then we ate some lunch - well the meat-eaters ate lunch, I had what they called soup (hot water and barely). What I will tell you about San Antonio is that I have never seen a bluer sky in my life. You don't realize how blue the sky really is until there aren't any clouds in the way. And since we were above the clouds, I now know how blue the sky is.

Back in the van we had our first mate circle! Mate is the international drink of Argentina. It's basically tea, but the act of preparing it and drinking it is practically a ceremony. But we had time in the van, so Omero (our guide) passed around the mate. The first time I tried it here, I thought it was bitter. But it's amazing what you can learn to like when you are really really cold. Despite the cold, Kristian and I were having a great time. We were taking silly pictures, enjoying the views, and napping when we could in the van. AND next stop was the Salt Flats. Las Salinas Grandes are the third biggest salt flats in the world. The biggest are in Bolivia and the second place winner is in Chile. These salt flats were pretty huge, so I can't even imagine the others. The salt flats are the result of surrounding volcanoes that produce mass amounts of salty lava (or was it salty water) and then drying up, leaving behind huge plains of white salt. The volcanoes didn't know it at the time, but they produced a harvesting ground for the salt we all eat. They also didn't know that they created the perfect backdrop for silly pictures without depth perception.

I stood on Kristian's shoulders - like a shoulder angel. I squished him under my foot. He squashed me between his hands. We both went surfing on our little toy llama - a figurine we had bought for 5 bucks just so we could mess with it in our infamous photoshoot. We had the best time manipulating photos. Oh the easily entertained children that live in our souls.

After a 40 minute photoshoot, we got back in the bus for our ride to the highest altitude of the day and on to Purmamarca. We hit an alltime high of 4,170 meters. Everyone warned me about altitude sickness. I didn't feel a thing. Our guide Omero said it was all in our heads. So I chose not be sick. Pretty cool, huh?

We then continued on this massive sloping, winding highway. In a distance of 35 kilometers we descended 2000 meters. Thats a pressure change for you.

Finally, we made it Purmamarca. A beautiful little town by El Cerro de los Siete Colores (the seven colors hill). I loved the old-fashion nature of the town: the little old woman molding clay into a pot, the old man leading the horse who was dragging the plow through the fields. And in the backdrop, a mountain of seven colors. Purples, pinks, reds, greens, yellows, greys, browns. They weren't as vibrant as I had hoped, but they were there. Like a rainbow trapped in the mountainside.

That was our last piece of natural brilliance before the long drive back to Salta. But I spent the day above the clouds. It was well worth the trip.

BESOS!

(p.s. I am back in the land of no laptop internet. I will post pictures soon!)

Salta: It's a small city after all

Day Two. Kristian and the gang went to Cafayate for the day. I chose to stay behind and explore the city of Salta, which Kristian said would take all of ten minutes. Well, he was close to right. A few hours and boom. Done. But I had fun on my own anyway.

After booking tours for Wednesday and Thursday, I walked around the city of Salta. The city square is beautiful, with pastel-colored buildings on every side. There's a pink church, a pale yellow museum and some sky blue buildings, too. I went to the MAAM which is an archaeological museum featuring the Incan/Andean culture that predated the current state of Argentina's Northwest. It reminded me a lot of my Anthropology class from college. I'm not an archaeology person, but it was cool to see old fabrics and quilts. The coolest part of the museum is the rotating exhibit of Los Ninos de Llulliallaca.

These are the famous mummies of the children from an Andean village known as Llullaillaca. Apparently, the custom was to preserve bodies extremely well. So now there are certain museums who showcase these children. It sounds really creepy, but honestly the 15 year-old girl I saw didn't look like a person. She was dressed in a lot of layers of clothing, so it more looked like old fabric on a clay replica. Kind of gross that that is what you look like if you are mummified, but a lot harder to imagine as a real, live person. That was the highlight of the museum for me.

Then I wandered through the city center to the Teleferico of the Alta Montaña. The cable car takes passengers up to the famous viewpoint of the city (as opposed to the less famous but even more beautiful one in San Lorenzo). I took the cable car up to the top. It was cold up on that there hill. So I only mosied around for a tiny bit before looking for the walkway down. One thing about Argentina: there are no signs for anything - and when there are they are wrong.

So I walked in circles for a solid period of time trying to find the way down. Finally, I found the stairwell and began the very cold and very long descent. At least it took up some of my day. When I finally reached the bottom, I was in a really swanky little neighborhood for such a poor mountain city. Stone walkways, gated driveways, front porches. If I lived in Salta Id live here.

And by the time I got back I had time to snuggle up by the gas heater in the lobby and watch a movie. An uneventful day compared to most of my others...but at least I engaged with the city I had traveled so far to see.

BESOS!

Salta: Getting lost makes for a better story

After another crack of dawn flight, I made it to my hostel in Salta at 9:30 am. I plopped down on the couch and immediately met Kristian, my new buddy from Bristol, England. He was so friendly and invited me join him and a friend "doing whatever" that day.

Doing whatever was great. It happened so fast, too. Yay spontaneity. We left the hostel at 11am to take a random bus to San Lorenzo, the next town over. Everything is closed on Mondays and we hadn't booked an excursion, so hiking in San Lorenzo was pretty much the only option. When we noticed we were the only ones left on the bus, I asked the bus driver how much long to San Lorenzo. He laughed and said that the next stop was the last stop, so we better get off and enjoy the part of the town we landed in.

So we got off the bus and ran into an old villager of Salta trying to sell us a horseback ride through the hills up to the "Mirador" (viewpoint). Kristian and I had been joined by Carina from Denmark and Bruno from Brazil. Bruno was insistent on using his new GPS to navigate our trek through the hills, so we passed on the horses.

The thing about GPS is, it's useless unless you have a map of where you are loaded onto the device. Bruno hadn't paid for that software. So we knew that we were a little black arrow on a blank screen and we followed our little black line showing us where we had walked. If all else failed, we just retrace the little black line.

So we climbed down a little hill and crossed a river by stepping stones. We started hiking up the hill on what seemed to be like some sort of path. Following the path we came upon a random herd of cows. I don't know if you've ever seen cows just randomly in the wild, or not in a pasture. It's pretty cool. I never thought of cows as wild animals until Monday, especially when I saw the MASSIVE bull just cruisin through the thick brush of the hills. Those were some big, threatening horns. It's a good thing they appeared calm.

After some photos, we chose a path that appeared to lead upwards - since we were looking for the viewpoint to look over the city. We passed a stone wall and found a real path. Success! We also decided that since guided horseback riding tours come up on the hill all the time, our best bet was to follow the horse poop. Kind of like Hansel and Gretel, but with shit. Soon this real path had led us to a plateau where the view was blocked entirely by trees. "Oh look! A really nice view, if only I could see it." After that plateau, there wasn't really a path. So we wandered and stumbled upon a fork in a lesser path. We chose the one with horse poo and trekked on. Dead end. We went back and followed the other path. Excellent, another viewpoint with shrubs everywhere.

We backtracked on Bruno's GPS and took a different turn. We ended up with three options: right, left, straight. LEFT Bruno said. Left should take us down to the city according to the one other dot on his GPS screen that said City Center. We descended for a while and came upon.....a barbed wire fence. GPS didn't say anything about that.

I mean, come on! How could it not tell us there would be an impenetrable fence? And why hadn't Kristian remembered his wirecutters?

So we backtracked again. Bruno had been fired. Carina picked right when we got back to the three-choice point. Incorrect. So Kristian led the way straight. Eventually on this straight path I could see the stone wall from before. I voted that we go back and follow it the way we came. But where was the sense of adventure in that?

So we followed Kristian, down through the spiky, thorny brush, threw the pool of mud, weaving through the trees, down a steep gravel hill and finally back across the river. We made it!!! It was actually a really fun little trek. We didnt see much but the hills themselves, but who cares?

We were adventurous! We were daring! We were HUNGRY! So we stopped for lunch. Guess what we found on our table? A map. A map of the trail we should have taken. The trail that started about 50 meters up the hill from where we were. Yup. That's irony for you.

So we fueled up and went on the actual trek to the actual Mirador. This was a harder hike. Crossing bridges, smaller pathways (though pathways nonetheless), steeper hills, rockier terrain. But bright sunshine and a clear view at the top. We could see all of San Lorenzo, Salta and the town beyond (its name shall forever be a mystery). I also took a nap in the sun at the top, since I had been up at 4:30 that morning and we had hiked quite a bit.

Somehow we didnt get back to the hostel until after 9. Where does the time go? Oh right. I guess when you walk paths and backtrack and walk another path and backtrack it takes double the time. But it was a GREAT day. And I found out that going with the flow and getting lost and having to find your way out of the hills with a dysfunctional GPS is a lot of fun.

BESOS!

Weekends in Buenos Aires

The one perk about going out so late at night/early in the morning is that even though my flight was delayed 5 hours from Iguazu to Buenos Aires, I still arrived in time to meet up with friends and have a fantastic night out. We went to Kika (aka Old Faithful) and the dj was great this time around.

I planned to go on a hunt for leather products Saturday afternoon. After waking up pretty late, I did make it out eventually and I walked around Barrio Norte (where I live) for the first time since moving there. I happen to be on the border of Barrio Norte and Palermo - I spend all of my time in Palermo.

Barrio Norte is like the upper east side of Manhattan. It's quiet and clean and the buildings are older and well-maintained. I walked to Avenida Alvear, the 5th Ave of Buenos Aires. There are beautiful stores of Argentine origen, but there's also Louis Vuitton and Hermes etc., which I thought was interesting. There are so many American imports in Buenos Aires: Starbucks, Staples, McDonalds, Burger King, and now these major designer labels.

The television shows are all American, too. People LOVE Friends and The Office. I would think that the irony of The Office doesn't really read in Spanish, but they eat it up. There's also House and The Simpsons. And so much of the music in the clubs is from the States.

When I first arrived to Buenos Aires, I remember that I was watching television and I laughed that even things that aren't imported or translated are very similar. For example, a commercial for 'women's products' here in Argentina still has the same girls dancing around in white clothes looking all smiley, even though the product is Argentine. The messages are the same. I thought it was funny that despite many cultural differences some things are just the same.

Anywho (after that little tangent) I meandered through the high end shopping district. Found a gorgeous bag that I could never fathom paying that much for. But it was nice to look at. I also passed through La Plaza San Martin, El Palacio de San Martin and El Palacio de Paz. I think I'll go back to El Palacio de Paz since the pictures of the interior architecture look beautiful.

After a couple of hours of browsing (I do so much of that without purchasing it's almost absurd), I headed to my night of tango. First I took class. It was hard. My teacher accused me of dancing alone with someone else. It may have been the case at the time, but that's only because my partner wasn't guiding me. I mean...I know I often have trouble following since I prefer to lead (in life), but really since I have almost no clue how to tango, it's easier to follow. After a bit of a frustrating class (its ok frustration means I learned) we had a Club Tango 101 party.

We had snacks and just a running backtrack of tango music for all of the beginner students to practice with each other. Apparently, this is similar to a milonga setup. Buenos Aires is full of milongas - little tango houses where dancers go to practice their skills amongst each other. This was supposed to be lan atmosphere with ess pressure since we were all among beginners, instead of potential professionals that frequent actual milongas. Well, I don't know how they qualify a "beginner" because there were some pretty impressive students there. It made me feel like I haven't learned much...although I hope thats not true.

I did have fun though. Met some great people and my tango skills improved slightly by the end of the night. But I was STARVING. So I went to my new favorite kosher restaurant and had a delicious platter of chicken stuffed with plums. Wow. Where do they think of this stuff?

It was 12:30 am by the time I was done so I went home and decided to get a little bit of rest. (And my friends were being lame and decided not to go out.) But I guess sleeping is ok.

Sunday I woke up early to do some "real shopping." By real shopping I mean I planned to buy things. It was not my lucky day. I dashed back to Plaza Serrano to buy the hat that I really loved and didn't have enough money for the previous weekend. But when I got there, the woman laughed at me because she had already sold it. It almost made me glad that I didn't support her business. Do you believe she laughed at me? Sigh.

I really liked that hat, too.

But nearby was another store that had a shirt and a vest that had been on my mind since I tried them on. I waited half an hour for her to reopen (stores often close for an hour in the middle of the day for "lunch" or something). The shirt was gone. At least I nabbed the vest!!

I was feeling a little lonely on this Sunday, meandering back around through streets I have strolled on a few too many times. Wandering back towards the high end district, I passed a restaurant where a man and a woman were sitting together and each reading the newspaper. I wanted to bang on the glass and scream at them. ENJOY EACH OTHER'S COMPANY! YOU CAN READ THE PAPER ALONE! I'm kind of done with eating meals alone. Alone time is good, but I like talking during meals. On my path to self-discovery, this I have learned about myself.

The thing about being alone is that sometimes its great to be alone with your thoughts and do what you want in your day without bending around someone elses plans or expectations. The thing about being alone is that sometimes it's redundant to be alone with your thoughts. You don't realize much conversation you have with yourself until you are alone for a day and then you come across a friend at 10pm and say "hi" and it dawns on you "wow, that's the first thing I've said out loud all day." Haha.

I think, in general, all of this time alone has been good. It's a once in a lifetime thing. To just get up and go at your own whim. To just do what I feel like doing. And I'm learning how to listen to myself and determine what I feel like doing, instead of doing what I think I should do.

At the same time, I was feeling lonely Sunday night. So I went to yoga to cheer myself up. Yoga can always put a smile on my face. I think the more I really want to go, the more I enjoy myself and the better my class. I have fun in the 105 degree heat - especially since it's the only reliably warm place in Buenos Aires.

Then I got home and packed for Salta. I was SO excited! As much as I love the nightlife of Buenos Aires, and as much as I loved the city day AND night during Week 2, I much prefer the time I have in other cities. They are more exotic. It's easier to fill my days exploring and trekking and feeling out the culture. Most importantly, I meet AMAZING people outside of the city. Bring it on Salta!!

(More about Salta soon! I'm having a blast!)

BESOS!!

Food for Thought

The Argentine diet. I know I've spoken about it before. But at this point, I think it deserves its own post.

Desayuno (breakfast): Practically non-existent. Coffee or tea. Toast with butter. Medialunas. I don't understand how a sugar-covered pastry can be enough to start your day. Or how, if you eat enough of them to fill you up, you still stay skinny. Because people here eat sugared pastries all day and it doesn't seem to reflect. I have managed to find cereals in most of my hostels, but they eat the smallest tiniest bowls ever. Breakfast is tiny, but they build throughout the day.

Almuerzo (lunch): I still haven't figured out WHEN they eat lunch. There is no lunch time. Mostly I see people lounging in cafes having a repeat of breakfast. Though many tourists find large slabs of meet or sandwiches of breaded meat (milanesas) to keep them going for their busy days. Sometimes pizza is an option, too.

Cena (dinner): Famously eaten past ten o'clock at night, this is the biggest meal of the day for Argentines. At the same time, you pretty much get one course. There is no salad and then your meal. In fact, I don't think they believe in salad here. Their version of a salad is lettuce. Sometimes you can get tomato or onion (they are BIG on onions here). But really, its all about the huge portions of meat. For us "vegetarian" folk, it's pizza or pasta.

That's what I've found. The Argentine diet consists of four food groups: Coffee, meat, pastries, Italian (pizza and pasta). How these people don't walk around obese is beyond me. I think maybe it's because they smoke so much. Speeds up the metabolism, burns the extra fat. EVERYONE smokes here. Or maybe its genetic.

Either way, my dad knows that the first thing I want to do when I get home is eat some pancakes or waffles or french toast - maybe all of the above.

BESOS!