Plaze de Mayo, San Telmo, and La Boca

The guy from Arkansas won American Idol last night.  Good for him.  That's the last I'll say about it.

Today I met up with someone I met earlier this week at the Expats' function.  We both had no plans, so we decided to meet up in an area of town neither of us had explored yet, and go out for a little adventure.  So we did.

We met near the heart of the city (and country, really) at the Plaza de Mayo.  This is the home of the "Casa Rosada" or "Pink House," made famous in the USA by Madonna singing out of one of the windows.  In this country, the real Evita is a goddess (think Jackie Kennedy plus Abe Lincoln and that's how they feel about her), so I won't say anything more about that.  Monday is a national holiday, so there were school children making an art project in front of the Casa Rosada.  It was quite a nice scene, and very cool for a toddler to grow up near such an important cultural landmark.  Think about finger-painting in the front lawn of the White House, and you get the scene.  

From there, we moved over to the historic San Telmo barrio, next to downtown.  This area is known for its Italian influence.  I passed many pizza places, several Italian flags and a lot of other good-smelling stuff.  However, since it was still mid-morning, I decided to wait.  That didn't stop the locals though.  One particular cafe had a young couple sharing a pitcher of Quillmes (the Budweiser of Argentina).  Did I mention that it was 10:45 AM?  My friend mentioned that he should move to this neighborhood.  I just chuckled.  

San Telmo is a very distinct neighborhood.  The European influences are very strong - especially the Italian - but there are also many contrasts.  I have no doubt that the original San Telmo could have been among the most beautiful places in any world city.  However, at some point, people there decided to stop maintaining many of the buildings, and raze others in order to build more modern (roughly 1950s) buildings.  To that end, you have a patchwork of beautiful neo-classical, spanish colonial, and Soviet-inspired buildings.  Its the oddest combination.  But it also proves quite handy for a graffiti artist's canvas.  And I'll give a nod to their graffiti.  Its creative, and much more artistic than most US graffiti.

I saw something that didn't make sense then, and doesn't make sense now.  But here's the picture:

Hopefully you can see that these three women are all wielding samurai swords.  It was honestly like a scene from a bad sci-fi movie.  I have no explanation, I was just an observer.  This was a public park, for clarification.  And they were playing music.  I can say no more.

We then trekked over to the adjoining neighborhood of La Boca "The Mouth," which is appropriately named as it sits at the mouth of the local river as it enters the bay.  This is known as a tourist center and all-around eccentric part of town.  Years ago, neighborhood residents painted their houses in elaborate and bright colors.  Now, its a nationally protected landmark.  Here's a typical street corner in La Boca:

I ended my journey right where I started, in La Plaze de Mayo.  However, every Thursday afternoon - for almost 40 years - a protest has taken place.  "Los Madres de la Plaza de Mayo," or "The Mothers of May Square" have been protesting the disappearance of 30,000-40,000 men and women during the military dictatorship phase in Argentina's history.  Students of political science, suspected socialists/communists, professors, and others were taken under suspicious circumstances.  They are now called "Los Disaparados," or "The Ones who Disappeared."  Every Thursday afternoon, their remaining mothers gather and walk in a circle around the statue in the middle of the Plaza.  It was a sobering moment.  But it also made me respect these women.  I'm not sure exactly what they are now hoping to accomplish, but you must admire their persistence.  And you needed persistence to watch them, too.  I took them a LONG time to make it around the statue.  I only stayed for the original.  I figured the sequel would pretty much be a repeat.

By the way, ignore the banner they are carrying.  It was for agriculture reform, but apparently activists give the women different banners to carry each week.  They don't actually care about agriculture reform, they just carry the sign.  

In an unrelated matter, the Razorback Baseball team WHIPPED the Florida Gators in the SEC baseball tournament yesterday.  Kentucky basketball will have the best recruiting class in the history of college basketball (not good), and I've decided its near impossible to keep up with American sports from over 5,000 miles away.  Although, help me out with that one if you can.

American Idol

So, people from South America like to consider themselves "Americans" too (since they're from South America).  With this being the case, I feel a little trepidation when thinking about starting a conversation about 'American Idol.'  I'm worried about getting into a deep philosophical debate on what it means to be "American."  So, I've never brought it up.  Plus, its not on TV down here, so no one would know what I'm talking about anyway.  

I actually pride myself in the fact that I've only watched one full episode of American Idol.  I think the premise of this show is ridiculous and creates fake celebrities (a la Paris Hilton type celebs).  However, I've recently been bombarded by friends and family from back home telling me that this kid from Arkansas - Kris Allen - just might win, and is already in the finals.  And I must admit, that its kinda cool.  Its become bigger than a silly karaoke show (in my opinion) and bigger than the contestants or that idiot British judge.  Its become a social topic based on the West Coast v. Heartland differences of the contestants, and the country for that matter.  

Anyway, even thought this is completely arbitrary and quite small in the marco-scope of life, I really want my guy to win.  I watched a clip of the California guy screeching like a wounded crow, and can't believe he's actually on the show - so I don't see how there's even a contest.  I don't know the rules, but if you can still vote, go vote for the Conway-grown boy-next-door Kris, since I can't.  

Post-script:

I can't believe I just wrote this entry.  I feel like every cliche of a typical blogger writing about such ridiculous things as 'American Idol.'  Please don't hate me, since I already hate myself enough as it is (for writing this, I mean).  

Job, schmob. I got one already.

For those of you who personally know me quite well, it would never cross your mind that I would ever be a teacher, yet here I am.  I got a job yesterday as an English teacher down here in Buenos Aires.  

To clarify, this particular job will actually be more like a private tutor.  Now that am I a teacher, I don't even get all the cool teacher accoutrements like chalkboards or long wooden pointers.  The students travel to me and we sit at a desk.  

Now, I will list my teaching qualifications:

1.  Once while visiting my mother's first grade classroom, I flicked a student on the back of the head and told him to "shut it" while my mother was talking.  My mother told me she would be sued (thankfully she wasn't).  

2.  See #1.

As you can see, I am rather unprepared for this venture.  My jefe (boss) told me that she has all the required syllabi and teaching materials, but that "classes" were up to me.  Essentially I'm going to wing-it until I get the hang of it.  I guess I can do that okay, since I did win a round of a high school debate tournament after I lost all of my notes and essentially made stuff up.  

Well, I start next week.  I'm continuing to look for other jobs - mostly companies based in the US.  Hopefully this teaching gig will tide me over until I find something that can give me a little more relevant work experience that I can take back with me when I return.  On the plus side, this job can theoretically support me (without extravagance) on its own once I get a full slate of students.  Therefore, it looks like I'll be here for a while now.  And that is a very cool development.  

So, friends and family - make your travel plans!  A perfect late summer or autumn getaway would be a spring in Argentina!

Ok, so I'm in another country, right?

This afternoon and tonight I met up with a bunch of native English speakers through an online forum that I've been viewing.  I've been a little trepidacious about meeting these people online.  I have never done it when in the States, but this online community of other expatriates seemed like a genuinely good group of people.  The "community" feel of the posters helped put my mind at ease.  In addition, I used a lot of advice I gleaned from the pages of the forum to help me in my move, so I met a group of them, and had the best time!

First, I met a 24-year-old woman from Sydney, Australia for a late lunch.  She is a copywriter, and therefore can work from anywhere in the world as long as she has an internet connection.  She was allured by a strong Aussie Dollar versus the Argentine Peso, much like I was (with regard to the US Dollar).  Anyway, I have been here for two weeks and she had been here less than a week.  I know enough Spanish to get by, and she knows "Si."  Oddly enough, I was the BsAs veteran in this equation.  

We met at "El Obelisco."  Its one of the landmarks of this city and country, and its also in the middle of the widest city street in the world - Avendia 9 de Julio, named after Argentina's Independence Day.  It was a rather public place, so if this girl turned out to be an axe-murderer, I would have 18 lanes of traffic and hundreds of witnesses to help me.  

As it turns out, she was exactly who she said she was (we had talked on Skype before meeting in person), and we had a wonderful lunch and a fun time exploring a part of the city neither of us had previously visited.  We decided to meet today so we could arrive at a larger Expat function and already know someone else.  We met about 8 other people at a cafe in Palermo, a trendy neighborhood in town, for late afternoon coffee and snacks.  We met at 5 and stayed there until 8.  Me, the Aussie and another man in his 50s fro California all decided to continue our conversations at another cafe and eat dinner.  We talked history, politics, Argentina, food, travel and many other things.  While we didn't agree on everything, the camaraderie of foreigners in this new country produced a wonderful evening of conversation.  In addition, it was nice to see hear the Californian's accent (in a strange twist, the Californian's mother was from Dumas, AR - so we had some fun talking about America from a southerner's perspective).   

All in all, a great night.  We stayed at the restaurant until after 11:00 PM, and none of us realized it was that late.  And to my surprise, none of the people there were stereotypes of "American's living abroad."  I expected to be the only normal American living here, surrounded by Hippies and people with EXTREME political views (of which I don't subscribe).  On the contrary, I didn't meet one Panama Jack-hat-wearing, Ernest Hemingway-emulating baby-boomer.  

I really felt that I was home away from home tonight.  Besides the English, we all had similar perspectives to curious Argentine customs.  In a rather funny moment of introductions, we didn't know whether or not to greet each other with a kiss, as is custom here, or greet each other like we would back home.  Finally, someone can empathize with me in this awkward decision to kiss someone when we first meet!  

To put an end to my stream-of-consciousness ramblings, below are two curious shops I passed while out tonight.  Between all the English I had heard and seeing these signs, I had to question if I was still in Argentina.

The "Bubba's" sign came in quite handy when describing Arkansas.  With that said, how it exactly got its name, is a complete and utter mystery.  I asked to speak to the owners, but they were not there.  The "Kentucky Pizzeria" shop really threw me for a loop.  Its even blue and white.  It was closed, but I want to go in some day and see if there is a wildcat somewhere in there.  However, if there is, I might have to leave a city that has already been staked out by the bad boys of the bluegrass state.  That, or I'll open a Razorback-themed pizzeria in BsAs just for spite.

Oh yeah, and another thing...

I know I just posted a few hours ago, but this has been bugging me for a few days now.  I'm from a relatively warm climate.  Arkansas isn't exactly like Alberta, so I'm not really a fan of cold weather.  I'm from a place where we averaged one snow-day off from school every year.  Some years two, some years zero (hence, average).  In the deepest throws of summer, it gets F 100+ degrees  with "drink the air" humidity.  All in all, I'm from a relatively warm place.

HERE, its a different story.  The tipping point in my decision to finally put the pen to paper (and when I say pen and paper, I mean fingers to plastic keyboard), was an afternoon jog.  

A.D.D. MOMENT - I love jogging in a large city.  Don't get me wrong, I love nature, but trees, fields, sky all look the same while you're bouncing up and down running.  A city is filled with different people, events, buildings and streets.  It keeps the mind active and exploring while your body is pounding out the miles (or kilometers down here).  Add an iPod, and you've got a pretty cool little music video directed by yourself going on in your head. - END OF MOMENT.

During my jog, the temperature was hovering around F 57-60 degrees.  It was late afternoon, so the sun was set behind the tall buildings of the city (but not set over the horizon).  So I was shaded most of the time.  There was a wind of about 10-12 mph with gusts of about 20 mph.  I wore athletic shorts and a white undershirt with the sleeves cut off.  It was a little cold to the skin, but I was going running - I planned on getting hot.

When I hit the street, people looked at me like I was wearing a straight jacket.  You know when you're watching a football game played in Green Bay, Chicago or Buffalo, and there's those guys.  You know the ones.  Their shirtless torsos are painted their teams colors, or maybe spell out a war chant of their team.  A couple of my best friends from college did that for most Arkansas football games, and it gets chilly in late November in the Ozarks at night.  The point is, you know the guys I'm talking about.  Now, think of the reaction of yourself and you friends when the camera closes in on them and you see their breath when they open their mouths.  You say, "Oh my God.  IDIOTS!" or "What are they DOING?!?" or "They're gonna get frostbite!" or something like that. 

Those are the types of reactions I garnered when I was seen in a cut-off shirt in 58 degree temps.  It should be said at this time, that most people who live here have never seen snow in the city, only in the skiing cities in the Andes.  At the current temps of 50s, people are wearing coats, not jackets, coats.  Women and men alike are wearing scarves, wool - not silk fashionable ones, and women wear gloves.  When I walk briskly at this pace with a shirt and a jacket, I begin to sweat a little.  The people around me look like Nanook of the North.  

In summation, I thought that moving here would not be a large shock temperature wise.  I expected it to get colder than I normally associate with "South America," but reasonable temperatures.  Well, I got the reasonable temperatures, but not reasonable locals!  I refuse to be ostracized as a member of the Polar Bear Club (look 'em up if you don't know about those freaks) just for jogging in a sleeveless shirt.  My hosts don't think I'm serious when I walk across the street without a jacket and its 60 degrees.  They think I'm unprepared for my errand, when in fact, if I bundled up like them, a trip to the supermarket would be like a trip to a sauna!

Good news, this is a water front city with cool Atlantic Ocean breezes, so in the summers (I've been told), the temperature rarely gets above 90 F.  This truly is the best of both worlds.  It has seasons, yet not extreme ones.  PERFECT!

Argentines know how to EAT!!!

So, I have heard many things about the food of Argentina.  I have heard from many people that this country has the best steak in the world.  It is among the world's leaders in the wine industry.  They have a love affair with a tea called mate (pronounced mah-taye).  On the other hand, I have heard critics say that the food here is bland, and totally fueled by meat and potatoes.  

I have another perspective on the food of Argentina.  I LOVE the food here.  They love their postres, or deserts, more than Americans.  Cookies, cakes, pies (with mounds of meringue), ice cream and many others.  They have a chocolate/caramel topping that they dollop on anything called dulce de leche.  The literal translation is "sweet milk," but that's not exactly an accurate descriptor (although, neither is HAMburger).  

My meal last night was a perfect example of this.  A popular breakfast/brunch at a streetside cafe here is cafe con leche y medialunas = coffee with milk and croissants.  However, last night I was introduced to the "Grande Medialuna," an enormous croissant.  And when I say enormous, look at the picture below.  For scaling purposes, my host is holding an Oreo cookie next to it.

Now that we know HOW mammoth this thing is, I will tell you how it was prepared.  Picture in your minds, a homemade variation on the 6-foot-long Subway party sub - with a gargantuan croissant.  We stuffed ham and mozzarella cheese inside two horizontal cuts, making a double-decker sandwich out of one piece of bread.  Three adults were eating this once piece, and after an hour, we conceded defeat against the Gastronomic Goliath that, I aptly named "La Locura" - The Madness.

With all that said, this dish is not exactly common.  And with that being said - no matter how common or not, I've never seen this anywhere before in my life.  And for that, I am proud of my newly adopted country.  

CNN Deportes

I will try to make this short, but every time I feel a twinge of pride in my homeland - especially when I'm this far from it - I feel the need to tell someone.  Since I can't just pick up the phone and call a casual friend (and still afford to eat tonight), I will tell everyone on the inter-web-net.  I also noticed a curious phenomena recently, so I will juxtapose that with my previously mentioned pride.   

I was watching CNN en Español this morning.  About every 20 minutes, they interject international sports news - CNN Deportes.  They mostly cover European soccer and American sports; right now its the NBA playoffs and MLB.  This is very nice for me.  I love sports, and while I'm not the greatest NBA fan, I get very excited when I see former Razorbacks on the tube.  When that particular tube is in another continent, I get a little more excited.  Granted, the highlight of the highlight was LeBron James, but Joe Johnson - NBA All-Star and face of the Atlanta Hawks franchise - was out of necessity included in the summary.  That was enough to make me very happy.  I was very excited to see my intercontinental Razorbacks represented.  However, I then saw a clip of the Cleveland Indians and the Chicago White Sox from the MLB.  Although he was not pitching in yesterday's game, I saw Cliff Lee - Benton native, former Razorback baseball player and reigning AL Cy Young Award winner.  Other than it being a little chilly outside, this day had gotten of to a rather good start!

Now, to juxtapose my pride with my curious observation.  As an American (or estadounidense down here), I do love my country.  I consider myself patriotic, and although I may not announce my nationality on every street corner of a foreign city, my pride as an American is never far from my mind.  However, I was reading a textbook yesterday.  It was produced in Argentina, of course in Spanish, and its subject was European expansion and colonization.  In this book of roughly 400 pages, there were 8 paragraphs about the USA spanning from Christopher Columbus to The Constitution.  In addition, I saw more than one factual inaccuracy in those short paragraphs.  

I will make a few concessions.  The main point of the book is Spanish and Portuguese colonialism and the subsequent independence movements/wars.  I get that.  This entire continent (almost) speaks those languages and their collective cultures owe much to those countries.  With that said, half of the book was about independence movements/struggles.  

A catalyst is defined by Merriam-Webster's Dictionary as "an agent that provokes or speeds significant change or action."  Without the US Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution, there would be no independent countries in South America as we know it.  Those two events served as the catalyst for more world change than probably anything else in modern world history.  Independent countries in Europe and their former territories control world business, control most of the world's money and have the highest standards of living around the world.  This does not include the vast political implications of the US's example as a functioning republic gave to the world.  To summarize all of that into 8 paragraphs - no matter what the context - is a glossing over of world history.  US independence was the catalyst that allowed every democracy (in any form) all over the world to exist right now.  To spend more time talking about ancient Bolivian potatoes is, in my opinion, a travesty.  Then again, I only like my potatoes twice-baked with cheese, sour cream, butter and chives.  

China town and around...

Today I visited China town - or barrio china in spanish.  However, I will not post about that tonight.  Rather, I am going to compile a list of things I did not expect to see in Argentina.

1.  Neck Tattoos (and tattoos in general) - While tattoos became a worldwide trend in the 90s, only rappers, gang members, and people generally of ill-repute put tattoos on very visible places.  Now, I've seen tattoos on a congressional chief-of-staff, a well-regarded lawyer with both "sleeves" tattooed (many tattoos covering the entire arm as to look like 'sleeves' from a distance), even lips tattooed to look like lip gloss.  However, what I'm talking about in the States is either not-noticeable, covered up or otherwise hidden.  Here, tattoos are open and non-cover-up-able.  WOMEN, who would in every other regard appear "normal" to me, with gigantic rose tattoos on their necks.  I don't think this is a particular trend that will catch my eye any time soon.

2.  Public Nudity - Newsstands in the States sell Playboys, Penthouses, and all those types of magazines.  However, they are generally covered in plastic so they can't be perused by adolescent boys while their mothers aren't looking.  And most certainly, their covers are, while risque, nothing more than you can see on basic cable at midnight.  Here, they are open, nude-on-covers and not hidden.  In fact, I see men and boys of all backgrounds scanning that particular section with no guilt or hesitation.  I think I'll stick with the US version on this category.  People are very confident in their bodies down here, but in my opinion, some things need to stay mysterious - and this is one of them.

2a.  Breast-feeding in public - I will include this in a sub-section about public nudity, although I think we should adopt this practice.  While unsettling at first, this is a good thing for people in general.  Every medical opinion ever generated on this topic says breast-feeding is best for a child's development, immunity, overall health later in life.  However, in the States, we shuttle young mothers off to storage closets in the backs of stores and generally make it difficult for mothers to feed their babies.  Some cities and states have even made it illegal to breast-feed in public.  Argentina - keep the porn private, but I applaud your attitude toward young mothers. THIS is something we should adopt in the US.

3.  Freckles/Red & blonde hair/Blue & green eyes - While I knew this country was home to many recent(ish) immigrants, and I was told there were many Anglo-Argentines here, its still a little shocking to see.  I understand that my perception (as well as most Americans) of Spanish-speakers is filled with pictures of Latino/Hispanic Mexicans.  I told myself that I would fit in down here as an Anglo-European descendant.  However, when I see people I would generally think of as Americans (Anglo-Europeans, Black people, etc. - America's ethnic mix*) speak with a perfect porteño accent, it throws me for a bit.  I have seen many faces in this city, many of whom could be my relatives, and I now understand that that a country can be both Latino and heterogeneous - Argentina is one.  

3a.  Chispañol - This is my imaginary word for a phenomenon I witnessed in barrio china today.  We all know 'Spanglish' - a very informal, conversational mix of English and Spanish.  I am very familiar with it because I speak a good bit of it to my hosts.  I speak Spanish until I don't know a word, and I say it in English (with copious hand-gestures).  However, when I entered a restaurant in China town, I heard a curious mix of Chinese and Spanish - chispañol.  Strangely enough, I felt very at home in a Chinese restaurant.  The menu was very familiar, with the traditional westernized Chinese favorites, The Players Championship golf tournament was on a flat-screen television behind the bar, and I received a lot of food for a small price.  There was even the new guy who stood near the back who cleaned tables and gathered dishes that only spoke Chinese.*  It really felt like home!

*If any of you reading know me personally, you know that "political correctness" drives me nuts.  I don't care if my descriptions of a Chinese restaurant may be 'unseemly' or 'uncouth.'  I don't care if you don't like it when I wrote "black people."  The world would be a better place if people worried less about stepping on others' toes and just said what they meant.  If you think what you just read was rude, I'm talking about you.  Have a great day!

4.  Dog poo - People love their dogs here.  Since it is a city of millions of people, there are hundreds of thousands (probably millions) of dogs.  However, there is no rule/law (spoken or unspoken) that engourages people to clean up after their dogs.  On one hand, the tree-lined avenues and boulevards don't need outside fertilizer.  On the other hand, you often play an adult version of hop-scotch against your will.  

5.  Smokers - There are a LOT of smokers down here.  Curiously, a lot of seemingly athletic people smoke.  I've seen many people carrying tennis rackets and soccer cleats also dragging on a cigarette.  Smoking is demonized in the States now, and only smokers from generations past remain (except a few idiots from my generation), but I didn't think this many people smoked.  Oddly enough, its mostly recognizable American brands like Camel, Marlboro and the blast-from-the-past Lucky Strikes.  Americans export cancer (cigs) and Argies export heart disease (red meat) - this might not be the healthiest relationship.  

This is by far not everything I've noticed.  However in the interest of your time and mine, I will save the rest for later.

Saturday Morning

Not too much to say for today, yet anyway.  I woke up at about 8:30 AM local time, but it felt like The Night Before Christmas - "Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse..."  I don't just mean people in the apartment, I mean the entire neighborhood.  I tried, rather unsuccessfully, to go back to sleep, and gave up trying about 10:00 AM.  Anyway, at 10:00 in the morning, I go to the big window overlooking the neighborhood - and I don't hear a thing.  I open the window - and I don't hear a thing.  It is currently 10:35 local time and I just heard my first car or motorcycle drive by.  

I looked at the statistics - there are around 200,000 people that live within walking distance of where I'm sitting... and 199,000 of them are still asleep at 10:30 AM on Saturday!  

And I thought an American college town was dead on Saturday mornings... they've got NOTHING on a latin city!  At least now I know how they can all wake up on weekdays at 6:30 after going to bed after midnight, every night - they sleep all weekend.

For My Mother...

I am not sure if there is a "Mother's Day" here in Argentina, but I just realized that the American holiday is on Sunday.  Seeing that my mother is ill at the moment (and her only son just jumped a continent), I figured I would do something nice for her.  

As a life-long Arkansan, there are several things we are proud of: the Razorbacks, friendly people, southern charm, and to some degree, Wal-Mart. This inauspicious little "Five-and-Dime" out of Bentonville, AR, eventually grew into the world's largest retailer - and at times the world's largest company.  Not only are we proud that the "little-engine-that-could" store came out of our state, most of us really enjoy shopping there!  You can buy literally everything there - cheap.  Since my mother shops at Wal-Mart much more than anyone should, she has an affinity for the place.  So, two days before Mother's Day, I decided to make a run to the local Wal-Mart.  

When I arrived, I was absolutely shocked at how similar it looked to those we have in the States.  What I learned in college business classes was the following:  International Business Rule #1 - DO NOT carbon-copy your store and install it in a foreign country; they do not conduct business like you.  However, as you can see from the picture below, this Wal-Mart had the biggest parking lot I've seen in Buenos Aires (outside the airport).  There were even the guys round up buggies from the parking lot.  And they had the automated cart-collector, too! 

When I walked inside, (other than 1/8th of the store being a liquor store) it was also the same. The layout was a little different, but I looked on the shelves and saw "Great Value" brands and familiar clothing labels.  Not that I really plan on shopping there, but I even saw a rather nice leather jacket for $100 (Argentine pesos), which, as of today's 3.7:1 exchange rate, was about $US 27.  

Anyway, that was my adventure for today.  Mom, Happy Mother's Day - I hoped you liked my tour.  I think I'm going to try China town tomorrow for lunch.  Every China town I've ever visited in any city always has the best food for the cheapest prices!  I'm definitely hoping for more of the same.

ino Centenario 1876 y calle 15 (2025)