Catch up Post

Sorry I haven’t posted for awhile, I’ve been busy. So while I was out living, here’s what’s happened:

Dia del campo: We went to a ranch for a day and got to see what Gaucho life is like. It was obviously very touristy, but in the way Americans go to the Flying W Ranch for a taste of the Old West. I enjoyed myself more than I thought I would. The dancers were fun to watch, and I got to try it myself. There were horses you could ride, but I chose not to. There was a long line and I’ve been on a horse plenty before—although I didn’t say no to the carriage ride around the farm. Then we were served an asado (BBQ). When the servers came with the meat, there was special music to mark its entrance. They take their beef seriously here. Fortunately for me, I got pasta and fried veggies. I could not have eaten the blood sausage and other hunks of meat barely cooked. There was more dancing after lunch and then we went to watch a horse game. The object was to get a lance through a tiny ring hanging at eye level. This traditional game was more exciting than it sounds, and it was cool to route on the players. Of course, the winner would be rewarded with a kiss from the girl in the crowd. We went back inside for a traditional dessert, which I don’t remember the name of, and mate coticita. More dancing and picture taking later, we were on our way back to the city.

La Bomba: A group of 12 drummers play every Monday night at Konex. They are really good and very talented musicians. I finally went with Kelsey one night (or morning, they didn’t start until 1). Besides all of the other people smoking pot, drinking alcohol, and shoving into me, it was a very enjoyable experience. Something about “the drum beat carries on” made it easier to connect with people and feel like a part of something bigger.

Mothers of the Disappeared: I skipped class one day and went to Plaza de Mayo to see this demonstration. Every Thursday at 3:30, these Madres de los Desaparecidos come to the Plaza and hold pictures of their sons and daughters who disappeared during the Dirty Wars, 35 years before. During that time, some 30,000 people were kidnapped, tortured, or killed by the government for unknown or unjust reasons. Many people of the dictatorship are still unpunished today, which is why the mothers still protest every week. The event itself is fairly small now: ten or so mothers, with white scarves covering their heads, lead a group circling around the plaza, carrying a banner and holding pictures of the disappeared. I was confused why the banner said “Malvinas siempre Argentina” instead of something about the disappeared. I’m pretty sure the demonstration has morphed recently when the Falkland Island topic got hot. I’ve heard from people that in the past they read the names of those who disappeared. They didn’t do that this time. Instead, there was chanting and singing, but no name calling. I didn’t understand enough of the Spanish to figure out what was going on, but it was still a neat experience.

Puerto Madero: the swanky place in town. Kelsey and I went to a museum on a boat, called Sarmiento Ship Museum. It was cool to see all of the old time nautical stuff. It made me feel like I was on the titanic. We also walked on the impressive, “Puente de Mujeres” or Women’s Bridge. It’s meant to signify how strong the women of Buenos Aires are. It’s fitting since the president, Cristina Kirchner, lives in Puerto Madero. The neighborhood is fancy and expensive, and you have to be careful not to be run over by teenagers on roller skates. It seems to be the transportation of choice around there. We even saw a few mothers pushing strollers with skates on. Seems a little dangerous to me.

La Boca is one of the most touristy areas of the city. Literally meaning “the mouth,” it is a port to Rio de la Plata. It is also home to the Boca Juniors Futbal Stadium, a central part to the Argentine identity. I didn’t get the chance to go to a game, mostly because it’s rather dangerous. Fans dress up head to toe, sing chants on local buses to and from games (literally making the bus sway), drink too much beer, and are very passionate about their teams. They’ve been known to rush the field and turn violent. I was satisfied watching from afar on TV. Another part of La Boca that is famous is called the Caminito, known for its iconic bright colors and overpriced tango shows. The neighborhood was colonized by the people of Genoa Italy, and they painted houses with left over paint from the ship yard. Parts have not been altered, but others have been “refurbished” to keep the “traditional” feel alive. It has a certain charm to it, but it’s definitely made for tourists. If you’re looking for authentic Buenos Aires, here is not the place to find it.

Teatro Colon: The night before our last final, Jessica and I went to see the Buenos Aires Philharmonic at the Teatro Colon. I went on a tour of the building before, but I was still surprised at how good the acoustics were. We had seats way up (less than 20 bucks), and had very little leg room. We also couldn’t see all of the stage. Good thing hearing it was more important. I love music. It brings people together. It lets us just be one—instead of people from different countries who speak different languages and have different values. We all speak music. I also was thinking about the evolution of music (and of humanity in general). Violins and the string family were created in the 1500s. Since then, there have been slight modifications, but nothing drastic. Why haven’t we come up with a new instrument by now? I guess once you have some that works, that plays well, we don’t need anything new. I also was thinking how amazing it is that almost 50 people can be so in tune with each other and the music that they create such a unified and pure sound. It really is a miracle. And what is it about music that keeps us interested? If we have the same instruments, the same set of keys and scales, how is it that timeless? While I won’t pretend to have the answer to this, I do know that for me, music is what makes me feel human. It connects me to myself, nature, and other people. When a very talented pianist played a solo, it made me miss playing, miss sharing it with other people. The Argentines really appreciate music too. They would applaud, standing on their feet, until the director came back on stage time and time again. They applauded so much that the pianist played an encore. I really enjoyed that night.

Finals: It was very hard to make myself study for my last test of undergrad, but I managed to pull a B in the class. Usually, I would not be happy with this grade, but since I’ve been here, I’ve realized grades aren’t everything. When I got to Argentina, I knew no Spanish, and now I can communicate. That’s proof enough that I’ve grown and learned a lot.

Farewell lunch: ISA provide a last meal for the Spring 1 students. We could order an appetizer, main course, dessert, a drink, and coffee. I was not expecting such service, but the ISA staff is amazing. Saying goodbye was a weird feeling. We just finished our finals, most people were leaving the next day, and there was no time to debrief. I sat and looked around at all of the faces, wishing I had gotten to know  more of them better, and glad I stayed clear of others. I realized that my time with them had gone quickly, almost like a dream. But it isn’t the end for me.