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A few more pictures

June 7th, 2005

Here are a few more pictures I just uploaded.

“Buenos Aires”

The girls and I in Plaza de Mayo, in the center of Buenos Aires
(I am on the far right with my arms crossed)

“Chile”
Mary Ashley, Alec and I waiting to go through customs on the Chilean/Argentinian border on our way back from Mendoza.

“Rafting”
The gang in Pùcon braving the 40 degree weather in anxious anticipation of the Class IV Rapids

“Isla de Dams”
Alec and I on a rock over looking the Pacific at Isla de Damas (off the coast of La Serena, approx. 8 hours north of Santiago)

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The Best & Worst of La Vida Abroad

June 6th, 2005

After being asked by a Chilean friend yesterday regarding the “mentality necessary to study abroad,” I began to think. After a couple hours of discussion, (and a few cappuccinos) I decided that in order to truly get the most out of his or her experience, one must be able to observe and consider both the best and worst aspects of life abroad. Thus, I compiled a list of my favorite (and least favorite) aspects of life in Santiago:

The Best of Santiago

-Being surrounded by mountains! (when they are visible through the “esmog”)

-Shopping in the outdoor markets; I never grow tired of browsing through woven llama sweaters, colorful scarves, and very affordable gaudy jewelry.

-The Chilean schedule. As a chronically late individual in the States, I find it refreshing to be consistently early here. “Early” classes begin at 10 and certain professors are typically 20-30 minutes late for their own classes.

-Living a bilingual life. Between classes, my host family, Chilean friends, “gringo” friends, journaling, various “media influences,” and traveling, I am constantly able to think, write, and interact in two languages. This is a very rewarding (though somewhat demanding) experience. It is particularly interesting when I forget what language I am speaking.

-In the words of the micro vendors, “Helado, helado, helado!” As an ice cream fanatic, I was ecstatic upon discovering the abundance of ice cream in Santiago. Though the ice cream bars on the micros are occasionally of questionable quality, a superior variety is available at the ever-present Nestle “Savory” stands, and ice cream crepe desserts are extremely popular at cafès in the most upscale neighborhoods. Although it`s tempting to eat nothing but mint chocolate chip, I have enjoyed sampling the new flavors. Lùcuma (a peach-shaped fruit, though the ice cream tastes more like butterscotch) and Chirrimoya (another fruit) are favorites.

-Teaching at the colegio. Although already familiar with various US artists, (Michelle Branch, Maroon 5) yesterday my class was introduced to Dave Matthews, John Mayer, Matchbox 20, and Bob Dylan, among others. Most of them enjoyed this experience; (country music, however, produced mixed feelings.)

-The weather! Yesterday, the US equivalent of Dec 1st, was 60ish and sunny.

-Cultural opportunities. In addition to the obvious cultural experience of living in another country, and the “cultural events” of Santiago (another free classical concert last night) there are unexpected opportunities as well. Tuesday night, at a friend`s house, I was able to spend hours talking with students from England, New Zealand, Ireland, Germany, and Argentina, among other places.

(While I am a perpetual optimist, I feel it is only fair to include ”the other side of the coin” as well. A study abroad experience, while exciting and completely worthwhile, will not always be perfect.)

The “Worst” of Santiago

-Constant attention. While at first it was fun to feel like a movie star, smiling politely at random compliments from the local men, the novelty has long since worn off. My female friends agree wholeheartedly.

-Rush hour. Micros, metro, lines, lines, lines.

-Fences. Nearly all houses and businesses (in at least 48 of the 52 comùnas) are surrounded by spiky looking fences. Although my host family reminds me this is a necessity here, it seems rather unneighborly.

-”Spontaneous Attempts to use English.” While I am willing to help others practice their English, it is not very helpful when people feel compelled to shout “Happy Birthday” (and any other English words they can think of) as I walk by. Friends with blonde hair are even more unfortunate in this respect.

-And finally, the lack of free refills! As I was told by a Chilean friend, this, (along with the absence of “put-in-a-quarter-take-out-a-newspaper” dispensers) is due to the Chilean tendency to take advantage of free items. Apparently McDonalds`attempts to make use of the Free Refill System were thwarted when customers continually purchased one soft drink for 8 or 9 people.

All in all, of coure, the positives far outweigh the negatives. Preparing for my first opera experience and a return trip to Valparaiso this weekend, I cannot imagine a better place to study abroad.

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Life in the Big City

June 1st, 2005

There are mixed feelings in the Study Abroad World. Some feel it is best to see as much as you can (several of our fellow van passengers from Mendoza displayed 30+ passport stamps,) while others deem it better to immerse yourself in one area/culture and really get a feel for the place you are living. Considering both perspectives, I decided that (after three consecutive weekends of travel) it was time to see a little more of Santiago.
My friend`s party early in the week provided an opportunity to immerse ourselves in the “Chilean University Culture.” This included, among other things, a lively discussion of the situation at the University of Chile, which, (along with other universities nationwide,) is currently “en toma”- taken over by the students-with all classes suspended. We recounted feeling slightly alarmed when greeted by large signs proclaiming “En Toma” as we attempted to attend class Tuesday afternoon. However, our fellow guests clarified that this “toma” is probably less complex than we`d imagined, often comprised of students, (equipped with only the bare essentials: sleeping bags and an ample supply of pisco,) camped out in front of the classroom doors. My host family later commented that this is a nearly annual occurrence, though it often cuts into summer vacation since the students have to make up classes later in the year.

Fortunately, cultural events have continued, and I was able to attend a classical concert at the university later in the week. The concert site, Campus Oriente, (formerly a monastery,) features an enormous cathedral, with amazing acoustics and better heating than my apartment.

The weather here, although sunny and 60ish today, has been in the high 40`s (F) and rainy for the past few weeks. Central heating is nearly unheard of, thus my house (like many of my friends`) features only one prized “calefacciòn” (space heater) which is moved from room to room as needed. I imagine Christmas cards displaying all family members gathered together, drinking eggnog in front of their sole calefacciòn.

With my host sister`s recommendations, I was able to explore some of Santiago`s discount shopping areas later in the week. Amazing how one`s conception of expensive is influenced by the environment; after countless discount sweater booths even a $5mil ($10) sweater seemed outrageously overpriced. Patronato (the discount neighborhood) also includes several cheap shoe stores, though the shoes displayed are often not even remotely similar to those actually for sale. Store owners do their best to convince wary customers that “Sketchers often goes by a different name,” and the peeling rubber soles can be “easily glued back on.” Fortunately, the movie prices are also cheaper than in the States, and with a student discount we were able to view “Star Wars Episodio III” for approx. $4.

It seemed as though all of Santiago was out on Sunday for ”Corpus Cristì” services and El Dìa de Patrimonio. Nearly all of the city`s museums, government buildings, and landmarks were open for complimentary touring, and the street markets were particularly crowded. Highlights included a gigantic sand mural near the Plaza de Armas, (home of Santiago`s famous cathedral,) several interesting street performers, and an ambitious dog trying to pull a picnic blanket out from under a sleeping woman in the park. Countless white tents crowd the plazas and the streets, and we were able to continue our shopping, browsing through woven sweaters, chocolate dipped apples, and every religious article imaginable (St. Teresa coffee mugs, etc.)

Although it will be nice not having to deal with pollution or public transportation in WI, I think I will miss all of the activity that comes with living in a city of 5 million. I certainly discovered that is not necessary to leave Santiago to see and experience new things.

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The Letter E (Teaching in Chile)

May 27th, 2005

CIEE offers a variety of volunteer opportunities for their program participants; these include working with impoverished families, assisting with after school programs, and distributing food to the homeless. Though I usually find any service experience rewarding and worthwhile, I was happily surprised when one of our program directors invited me to start an English language instruction program at one of Santiago’s best colegios (middle/high schools). Colegio Benjamìm McKenna is a “magnet school,” she explained, one of the city’s most well off, with gifted students and plenty of resources.

However, with class sizes of 45+, no gym and bare rooms (some without desks,) the colegio was not what I expected. Upon arrival for a preliminary meeting with Señor Rodriguez, the school’s English teacher, I inquired regarding the resources available (crossing my fingers in hopes of videos, workbooks, or even a photocopier.) “We have dictionaries” he announced proudly after much contemplation. I knew then this would be an interesting semester. Fortunately, I’ve had a little experience teaching English (and Spanish) in the States, and despite my uncertainty, I was relieved to discover that 14-year-olds are 14-year-olds regardless of what country you’re in. Despite the requisite school uniforms and custom of standing while the teacher enters the room, much of what I observed in Sr. Rodriguez’ classes was no different from my own high school.

The annual “Dìa de los estudiantes,” (Student Day, with free food and no classes,) a few days later, provided me with an opportunity to interact with the students on a more informal level. A few of the girls were anxious to show me around, and pointed out the different “groups”: boys who played fùtbol, boys who didn’t play fùtbol, and boys who juggled and claimed they were training to be street performers. The girls seemed a bit less segregated. All of the room parents came in to serve completos (hot dogs drenched in avacado and mayonnaise) and the students attempted to raise money for a school trip by charging admission to a “Cafè con piernas,” a (hopefully) more innocent version of the Coffee with Legs diners found on shady street corners all over Santiago.

Equipped with my new background knowledge, I was prepared to teach my first 2 hour class Wednesday afternoon. Sr. Rodriguez had assured me that all of the students had studied English extensively, thus I was a bit surprised when one girl confidently responded “Yes” when I inquired how many siblings she had. After a few questions, I concluded that the students’ comprehension of English vocabulary ranged from near fluency to a few words, making subsequent lesson planning a bit of a challenge…

Though the students seemed a little shy at first, (my open ended discussion questions were met with eerie silence) by the end they had opened up and were anxious to interact. I assured them that there was no need to be hesitant about speaking a foreign language, since I can certainly sympathize.

Since high school students are known to for asking “trick questions,” I was relieved when the questions remained innocent and fairly easy to answer. The most difficult involved why the United States grading system omits the letter “E.” Thus, I was surprised when Julio very seriously asked me to write “beach” on the board, along with a similar word, and say them loudly several times for the class to repeat. The class did a very nice job of repeating, though this was probably the one and only time I will be asked to say this in a classroom.

Since many of the students here are big fans of US music (Coldplay is a favorite) I am hoping to entice them to participate by including music lyrics in next week’s lesson. If this doesn’t work I can always lure them with chocolate chip cookies…

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Pictures

May 26th, 2005

Hello all,

I’ve been having trouble getting pictures uploaded, but I think I’ve finally gotten some from a friend Alec who got his uploaded so here you go.

Here’s my school, La Universidad Catolica:

Jackie's University

Here are some pictures from Cerro San Cristobal where we went the first week we were in Chile.

View from San Cristobal

Here’s a nice picture of our CIEE group:

CIEE Group at San Cristobal

Here’s La Virgen:

View of La Virgen at San Cristobal

And the view from the hotel:

View from the hotel

Do you remember my trip to Cajon del Maipo? Here are the pictures of our adventures there.

Cajon del Maipo

Here is the Embalse del Yeso on our trip:

Embalse del Yelo

We saw wild horses:

Wild Horses

And went horseback riding:

Horseback Riding

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Pucòn

May 26th, 2005

I had heard wonderful things about Pucòn. My host family insisted that Chile’s southern Lake District is one of the country’s most beautiful areas; a Chilean friend ranked it right up there with Punto Arenas (southernmost tip), where you can personally chip pieces of ice off a glacier and use them to chill your drink. We had heard rumors of jacuzzis and adrenaline filled excursions from the other half of CIEE students who had taken the same trip the previous weekend. Thus, upon arrival, morale was high, despite the fact that we had just spent 11 hours on a bus watching numerous showings of a poorly dubbed Jurassic Park III.

Ecstatic with the luxurious cabins (complete with jacuzzis, full kitchens, and fireplaces,) we dumped our luggage on the bunk beds and congregated in the dining room in eager anticipation. Naturally, there was a general feeling of hesitancy when the first activity turned out to be…a four hour bus tour! Fortunately, the tour included plenty of stops, providing us with ample opportunities to photograph a jade green waterfall, mountain lakes wrapped in ice and surrounded by volcanos, (most notably Volcàn Villarica, which was startlingly active a few weeks ago,) and foothills blanketed with pine trees. (Volcanos aside, those of us from the northern States felt right at home.)

The tour guide, extremely eager to help us preserve memories of Pucòn, seemed slightly disappointed when our group of 18 declined to have him photograph each of us individually, senior picture style, at every single overlook. He consoled himself by introducing us to the bright pink copihue, (co-pea-way,) Chile’s orchid-like national flower, protected by countless laws which subject the picker to full prosecution. He then proceeded to pick the very flower we had been admiring and invited me to take it home. This provoked shocked and sympathetic glances from my CIEE companions, and one suggested furtively that I should think twice before taking it out of the country.

The highlight of our tour was a two hour soak in the termas, natural hot springs enclosed in a Vail-like lodge. We soon grew accustomed to the slight odor of sulphur, and felt very privileged to be enjoying the snow covered mountains from the comfort of the termas.

After the luxury of the first day, we were ready to step outside our comfort zone the next, ignoring the icy rain and 40 degree weather to go white water rafting. Dressed in wet suits, parkas, and water shoes (none of which did much to alleviate the cold,) we piled into the raft with our guide, who seemed a bit anxious when he discovered that 4 out of the 6 people in our boat had never rafted before. When we had trouble discerning “Adelante” (paddling forward) from “Atràs” (paddling backwards) he decided that the class IV rapids may prove a bit much, and that we would be wiser to portage. This brought sighs of relief, particularly when the huge wave which engulfed our raft and nearly swept 2 passengers overboard was a “Class II.” However, our team pulled together, quickly learned the meaning of “al piso” (hit the floor so you don’t get washed out of the raft), and was eventually able to handle the Class IV when it came time.

The guide kept our spirits up by joyously announcing the name of each set of upcoming rapids; these included “La ùltima respira” (The Last Breath) and “El castigo de los pecadores” (Sinners’ Punishment.) After three hours of icy water and gorgeous scenery, we were ready for black coffee and dry clothes. After dinner at El Fogòn, a log restaurant in town, we took advantage of the cabin jacuzzi, cable tv, my friend’s peanut butter (mailed from the states) etc.

Undaunted by the less-than-perfect rafting conditions the previous day, some of us decided to try the “canopy tour.” Visions of parrots, monkeys, and tropical flowers disappeared as we strapped on harnesses, helmets, and carabineers in the sleet. We piled into four wheel drive vehicles, which brought us to the crest of a very large hill. Overlooking the vast canyons and rivers below, we observed the five long zip lines which would eventually bring us to the bottom. After a few practice runs, in which we learned how to brake and were informed that it was “particularly dangerous” due to the icy conditions, we were invited to ride the zip lines down. We certainly reached the “50km/hr” promised on the brochure, and though the sleet made it hard to see, the zip lines were quite an experience. Warming by the lodge fireplace, we agreed that it would be much easier to sleep on the bus ride home.

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Riding the Buquebus (to Uruguay!)

May 20th, 2005

Though we began our 4th day in Buenos Aires unfamiliar with the joys of Buquebus, by the end of the day we were all humming the tour boat’s theme song. Since Buquebus tickets were relatively cheap, and the ride only two hours (in comparison with 6-8 hour bus rides around the bay) we were willing to get up early to catch the boat to Uruguay.

Unlike our death-defying water taxi in Valparaiso, the Buquebus was enormous and very secure. The spacious lobbies and lounges, duty free shop, and various cafès kept us occupied for the majority of the voyage. The spectacular view of Buenos Aires from the water enticed many tourists to brave the cold sea breezes (around 45 degrees Fahrenheit) and step out on the deck. Although at first we suspected the Buquebus might be filled with commuters, this certainly was not the case, as most of the passengers appeared to be wealthy Argentinians (or tourists) on a day trip.

Our destination, Colonia, was a small harbor town which resembled both New England (weather!) and the Bahamas. A nice change from the big city, Colonia had only a few main roads, and the main attraction seemed to be the lighthouse. Most of Colonia’s inhabitants appeared to be involved with one of three industries: fishing, painting, or golf cart rental (though there were a few more daring tourists on mopeds.) We considered renting a golf cart, but agreed that the rain and cobblestone streets might pose problems.

Instead, we were content to wander the streets, visit the cheese and wine shops, stock up on souvenirs (Uruguay t-shirts!), and explore the country’s oldest church. While perusing the same gift shop for the third time, we agreed that while Colonia might be a nice place to visit during the summer, winter activities were rather limited. Before leaving we stocked up on groceries and I indulged in another submarino, unaware of what was to come…

The return Buquebus ride can only be described as “an experience.” While walking the few blocks back to the dock, the sky grew dark, the gentle rain turned into a downpour, and the wind picked up. As one of my more motion-sickness prone friends turned slightly green at the sight of the choppy water, we began to suspect what was to come. Not having had much experience on boats, I had always assumed that those movie scenes where things slide off of tables and the boat visibly slants back and forth were exaggerated. Unfortunately, these scenes could have been taken from our four-hour return journey, in which the elegant lounges were filled with miserable tourists, draped over chairs or sprawled on the floor in nauseous agony.

(Surely in an attempt to calm the passengers,) the Buquebus staff played the same “how to put on your lifejacket” video on the lounge TVs continuously throughout the journey, (at least 25 times). Drama increased when the captain, who was apparently new, had some trouble docking the Buquebus. We waited with fierce anticipation, watching the same skyscraper move back and forth in front of the windows for nearly an hour. Everyone clapped and cheered in a moment of true celebration when the Buquebus was finally maneuvered into its place.

Return customs (in a dim basement) provided more excitement; when the “Immigration Window” remained closed 30 minutes after all of the passengers escaped the Buquebus, an elderly lady almost started a riot. “¡Por favor!” she shrieked, “Estamos mal!” (Literally, “Please, we’re not doing well.”) Her yelling stirred up the crowd (we glanced around for an escape route if needed), and she grinned in satisfaction when the window was reluctantly opened.

Since our plane left at 10 the next morning, we decided to cut back on sleep again and make use of our final few hours exploring the neighborhood of La Boca. Though La Boca is one of the poorest barrios in La Boca, it has become somewhat of a tourist attraction. Filled with corrugated metal buildings painted rainbow colors and wrought iron balconies, it reminded us a little of New Orleans. Already at 8am, tango music was pouring out of shops into the streets - we had hoped to see some dancing as well, but apparently all of the dancers were sleeping.

Boarding the plane for home, we agreed that while we feel we’ve gotten a taste of Buenos Aires, there is still so much to see! A return visit sounds tempting (but first we need to get some sleep!)

This weekend: program trip to the city of Pucòn in Chile’s Lake District

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Buenos Aires: Episode 2

May 19th, 2005

Nearly everyone we met in Buenos Aires, including the other travelers at our hostel, mentioned an exclusive restaurant/club downtown called Million. Built in a restored four story mansion sandwiched between two high rise buildings, Million provided the perfect place to spend a Friday night, and feature the best drink list I`ve ever seen! We discussed future travel plans over drinks and a cheese tray, and rubbed elbows with the Rich and Famous of Buenos Aires, most of whom were dressed scantily (at least the females) and wearing fur. Our good fortune lasted til 4am, when all “non-members” are discreetly asked to leave.

Saturday morning brought a trip to the famous cemetary (and resting place of Evita) in Recoleta. I was expecting Arlington`s counterpart, but this cemetary was unlike anything I have ever seen. Instead of tombstones, the walkways of the cemetary were lined with stone houses, adorned with intricate carvings and 7ft. statues of angels. Although most were the size of a garden
shed, others were larger and had 2 or three stories. Most featured windows, doors, and staircases, where layers of caskets were visible. Apparently above ground burial (also popular in New Orleans) was an expensive choice for wealthy coastal families, due in part to the high water table. Vendor stands and cake sellers surrounded the cemetary gates, and provided a good opportunity for more Spanish practice. An elderly man near the gate was anxious to help us take a group picture, but apparently had little experience with digital cameras. I suspect he was holding the camera backwards since I now have several pictures of him and none of the group.

After maneuvering 7 people into a cab for the 5th or 6th time, we headed to Teatro Colòn, a famous and elaborate theatre downtown. After discovering admission was required (and another 2 hour tour would be involved) we decided to forfeit the theatre and headed for a laid back local piano bar for dinner. The food was wonderful and champagne was on the house. All agreed that Argentinian hospitality is unbelievable! (we are also becoming accustomed to the South American custom of not receiving the bill until we request it, leading to countless 3 and 4 hour meals.) Fortunately, we remembered that the boat to Uruguay would be leaving at at 8am, and called it an early night, heading back to the hostal around 2.

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Buenos Aires: Episode 1

May 17th, 2005

Buenos Aires, a true international city. Our first day in Argentina`s capital began with a trip to Plaza de Mayo, home to several important government buildings including Casa Rosada, the (bright pink) home of the President. Taking in the camera-happy tourists and countless security guards, we felt as if we had stepped into an October morning in Washington, DC.

After taking far too many pictures of Evita`s famous balcony, we headed towards Puerto Madero, the upscale nearby harbor. Surrounded by chic shops and classy restaurants, this area definitely caters to the city`s elite (and, of course, tourists eager to spend.) Ravenous after our morning of exploring, we decided to forego McDonalds (though they featured mozzarella sticks!) and sample the area`s best Italian at one of the dockside restaurants. The menu, which was mostly in French, featured several items we did not recognize. One of my friends, hoping to be pleasantly surprised, ordered an item at random and ended up with pumpkin ravioli. Clad in jeans and sweaters, (in sharp contrast with our fellow diners, most of whom were wearing ties) we received personal attention from the restaurant manager and dessert on the house.

Since it was growing dark, we decided to stick around the harbor and admire the yachts. Enchanted with the lights glittering off the water, the harbor bridge (a sort of graceful white fin, think Sydney Opera House), and the fabulous customer service, we voted Puerto Madero our favorite barrio thus far. Though we had slept little in the past 36+ hours, we felt it was time to sample the local nightlife. Guided by friends studying in Buenos Aires, we headed to a local “Irish Bar,” appropriately titled “Shamrock” but lacking any other connection to the Emerald Isle. Filled with outgoing Argentinian 20-somethings, Shamrock provided a good opportunity to gain perspective on the city, jot down the names of a few more “off the beaten path” places to see, and (even!) discuss the economic situation of Argentina vs. Chile. Not the typcial bar experience, to say the least.

After discovering we were unable to tour Casa Rosada without reservations on our second morning, we attempted a tour of the city`s underground tunnels, apparently used by the military and government at various times throughout the city`s history for transportation and protection. Unfortunately, though our tour guide`s oral presentation was interesting, the tunnels were blocked off and inaccesible to tourists. They looked mysterious and inviting (think Indiana Jones) and we made valiant attempts to photograph them through the gate. Disappointed by the guided tour scene, we consoled ourselves with a few hours of shopping on the 5th Avenue of Buenos Aires. Though the more upscale stores did not feature Argentina`s characteristic low prices, we were able to observe the most fashionable locals. Dripping wet from the sudden rain and wearing complimentary jewelry we were given when we bought film at the Kodak store we raised a few eyebrows.

My favorite part of the shopping experience occurred when we stopped at a corner cafè to dry off. As the others ordered medialunas (croissants) and coffee, I decided to try a “submarino,” Argentina`s tasty version of hot chocolate, consisting of hot milk and a chocolate bar (served separately so you can melt the chocolate as desired.) The waitress surprised us by bringing churros (strips of fried dough) instead of medialunas, explaining that “we`d like them better.” Although this customer service technique was strange, (and probably would be frowned upon at the restaurant where I work in the States) we agreed that the churros were good.

After a trip on Buenos Aires`historic metro, featuring old-time-train wood benches and retro signs, we strolled once more past Plaza de Mayo, which was now blocked off by even more security. We were unable to decipher the words of the various police officers who tried to explain the situation to us, and ended up deciding that the barricades were either due to a protest or a collapsed building. Altogether, however, we felt that Argentinian Spanish was slightly easier to understand than Chilean Spanish, with less slang and pronunciation more similiar to what we had studied in past classes.

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1st Impressions of Buenos Aires

May 12th, 2005

I have a new appreciation for air travel. After countless day long bus trips on overheated, cramped TurBus where the staff feels the need to open or close your individual curtains a few times every hour (and they must not be touched by the passengers!), Air Canda looked pretty tempting. Thus, a two hour plane ride, complete with imported chocolates and sinks with hot running water (we don´t even have that at my apartment in Santiago!) was close to travel paradise-though slightly more expensive than buses.

Arrival at the airport late last night brought the usual attack of rental car drivers and aggressive hostal recruiters. Fortunately, we already had reservations in barrio San Telmo, at a hostal which I remembered as “La Ciudad de Tango.” However, numerous requests brought blank stares from information desk workers, security guards, and (when all other options had failed) the janitor. Finally, I resorted to English. “Tango City?” I asked hesitantly…”Aahhh, Tango City!” exclaimed the relieved Traveler Services official, and promptly whipped out a brochure.

Tango City is, as my friend just noted, Lonely Planet in a hostal, complete with a freight elevator, a pool table, chandeliers and bean bags. Though our taxi driver warned us that San Telmo (our current home in the 22 barrios that make up Buenos Aires) is next to the city’s most dangerous neighborhood, La Boca, he assured us that the neighborhood´s countless Bohemian restaurants and off-the-beaten-track stores make any extra risk worthwhile.

After dropping our luggage, my friend and I decided to go out for pizza with two girls from Seattle who we met in the hotel lobby. They are currently finished with school and spending five solid months traveling around South America, free from the constraints of a university schedule. Someday, someday. Aside from the impressive pizza (complete with decent white wine and garlic fries for less than $3/person,) one of the highlights of the place included the fact that the staff did not try to speak to us in English. Although the majority of people I have met in South America do not speak English, those who do are often anxious to practice.

Buenos Aires was, at first glance (keeping in mind that it was dark and our sole perspective so far was from the backseat of an airport taxi) a very diverse city, and much bigger than Santiago with approximately 11 million residents. Massive cathedrals loom next to modern skyscrapers, and, of course, we are right along the Atlantic coast. In the epitomé of contrasts, beneath the ornate buildings and gourmet restaurants the streets (at least in our neighborhood) were filled last night with locals sorting through garbage, looking for recyclable items which they can exchange for cash. Apparently Argentina´s economic plunge in 2000 had effects more adverse than the low pizza prices.

Plans for the weekend include visiting the old Gothic cemetery, various sites from Evita, a couple ferías (huge craft fairs,) a day trip to Uruguay, and, of course, the requisite tango show. Time to go exploring…..

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1st Impressions of Buenos Aires

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