Palermo

Herro Guys,

My hostel days are over (for now) and I currently live in a posh neighborhood, Palermo, a little north of the city proper.  When my homestay mom, Mechi, picked me up we had to take a taxi from the hotel because the only car they have is a motorcycle which wouldn´t have been able to carry my luggage efficiently.  Inside the taxi we began chatting and like any Argentine, she has heard of California and New York.  I was explaining the states between Colorado and California, Nevada and Utah when Mechi said, “Oh, Utah is filled with Mormons.”  I began my sentence, “Or rather Utah is…” then the taxi driver raised his hand, but I continued, “Filled with idiots.”  Then he declared that he is a Mormon.  Oops.  He didn´t really talk for the rest of the ride.

The house is most comparable to a town home, maybe?  There are three levels and a terrace on the roof but it´s connected to other houses on each side.  The second level really only is my room which is nice.  Unfortunately there isn´t a place to hang my shirts, maybe I can figure something out. 

We have been doing orientation activities for the past couple days and for the next week or so we will continue bonding.  I definitely don´t want to bond with some of these people.  Nonetheless, I have found some really nice and intelligent friends.  After several written exams and an oral exam I have been placed in the most advanced level.  During my meeting today I will meet the other Post Advanced Spanish II students and we will all judge each other as if we were at a beauty pageant.  There are 81 students and I´m curious how many will join me as the elite.  Perhaps that sounds too pretentious.

I miss Syndri, the mountains, Boulder, my friends, my family, and being able to understand everything.  Nonetheless, I have two new dogs, Manuel and Catalina, endless streets of buildings, Palermo, new friends, Mechi and Max, and to work hard to keep practicing and improve my fluency.  It´s a nice change, I think I want to go to Stockholm. 

Bye friends ):

It seems I have forgotten you.

            Since our last date many of come and gone.  Last night was a pseudo going away party for many of our friends.  Russia, Colombia (2), Chile (5), Sweden, Norway, Brasil (3), Germany (2), and Israel all left.  England/Brasil leaves tomorrow (he’s a mix).  We grilled hamburgers and smashed beers while enjoying our last night together.  Some had been here for almost a month and others only a couple days but we loved them all.  Now we are left with a fat Chilean family, many awkward old people (who apparently don’t know this is hostel because they keep complaining about the noise), and a couple new cool people.  Three chicanas from California, a Swedish boy, and another Brit just showed up; I’m pleased with the latter two, but I prefer Mexican girls to chicanas.  Still not as fun but soon I will be leaving the party house to live with Máximo (Max, 32 marketing researcher for a Publishing company) and Mercedes (Mechi, 38 free lance graphic designer) who will be my Argentine family.  I am very excited to live with two very young, artful, and beautiful people.  Perhaps I can take their two dogs to the park, but I won’t rival any other dog sitters who will instead have about 8-15 dogs with them, what a sight (see FB picture for reference). 

            I won’t bore you with banal tourist expeditions that were nothing but touristy.  

Quilmes

Yesterday is really hazy, I don't really remember except I made new friends the night before and we hung out again.  I took Advil and I feel a little better.  Apparently the whole time I've been here everyone has been partying on the fourth level terrace and I didn't know till the older German mentioned something to the younger German and me.  We climbed the stairs together and emerged side by ostensibly that I was trying to shag the younger German.  Three Canadian girls who don't speak Spanish were trying to teach everyone King's Cup and were 35% successful with rules transfer and 100% successful getting people drunk.  I met a lot of Chileans and Brazilians I didn't know before, they are cool people and definitely DTP.

I am continually amazed by the amount of people just going from country to country, hostel to hostel for months, some before college and some after.  Maybe my first act as a Law School graduate should be 9month long hostel-bouncing trip.  Sounds rewarding but I don’t think that would help pay off loans.  I will find a way! 

Running around

I decided to actually locate the hill that last night led me to the slums.  It's called Parque Lezama and I was actually really close.  The man's name was Pedro de Mendoza and the year was 1536.  I decided since it was light to visit Boca again.  I have a lot more fun exploring the city and following people than going to museums, which aren't free...  But there are limits to my expeditions; today I was stopped by two men who told me not to continue because it was too dangerous.  When has that ever happened to you?  I found it excitingly different and appreciated.  I turned back and went home.

Whenever I don't quite know what to do or have a spare hour I enjoy walking back to the first street I found and enjoying the lively atmosphere.  

            As to be expected in hostels, people come and go.  Today three Canadian girls came.  I was surprised by all the guys I have never seen before asking them to drink and do other seemingly innocuous activities although we all know better.  Maybe I should wear a dress.  Tomorrow the younger German girl is going to send me a message whether I should change hostels or not.  I think it would be exciting to try a different one that isn't far away and the same cheap price of 10USD/day.

I have been thinking about running for the past two days but wanted to make sure I had at least some general idea of where I lived in relation to other places.  I took the leap today and went running.  I was just going to be modest and wear my short running shorts with my shoes.  I think I left one of my orthodics at home and perhaps the shorts too.  Instead I wore my two piece tri suit, I know kind of obnoxious, and my Vibrams.  I actually really enjoyed running in Vibrams for the first time and I could tell the locals did too, you're welcome.  I also wore sun glasses so I couldn't be easily identified.  But that might have been for naught because I was the only person running, and the only person I have seen thus far running through downtown Buenos Aires (there are a couple people I've seen running in Puerto Madero). 

That is all.

Public Transportation

I didn’t actually go to bed pacified by sweat after eating a fruit bar.  I decided to live or something like that and autoschediastically went on an adventure to the hill famed to be the location where some guy during some year first declared this area as Buenos Aires.  I didn’t find the hill but instead some of the poorest neighborhoods in Buenos Aires, specifically Boca.  However, I was never assaulted or bothered.  Which perhaps is one of the biggest differences between Denver and Buenos Aires; in Buenos Aires the people are very kind and helpful-even the less privileged.  Whereas in Denver I would have been harassed excessively in the comparable neighborhoods by local hooligans.  So I began looking for a taxi to save me.  I would see one on the other side of the road and then cross hoping more would be following then one would be on the other side of the road, it was really depressing for me.  Finally one saw me flapping my arms and jumping from across the street.

            I decided to sleep in a little because I had a long day of flying with pubescent girls, exploring a colorful city, and getting lost in dark barrios.  When I woke up one of the German girls asked me what I was going to do knowing of my little success last night.  I told her I would open my tourist book and pick something.  Instead she recommended going to Tigre and Delta, 28 kilometres north of the city.

            I struggled to find the Subte (Metro) initially as I have yet to get a map of the city besides the small ones I examine in my tourist book before leaving.  That said, I get lost frequently but that’s how I can learn how to get around the city.  Finally I took the Subte to Retiro and then took a train to Mitre then another train to Tigre.  I paid 10USD and toured Delta on boat which was pretty fun but not super exciting.  I did learn something about public transportation which is apparently not exclusive to Buenos Aires but I had never seen, people will place socks, candy, mirrors, stories of their dying kids, or valentines on your lap walk away and then collect payment or the item.  Also, it is common to sing or in some other way perform on the trains and Subte and then expect compensation.  I compensated nobody.

            I went out for a drink with one of my German roommates.  I had to tell her I´m gay to lure her out though; straight guys should try it, 100% success rate of making girls divulge everything.  I definitely prefer dark beer to lighter.

            All of the above paragraphs begin with “I” and I feel selfish.

 The receptionist must have known I am gay because all four of my roommates are girls, and we get on splendidly.  The other three are Italian, Spanish, and another German.  The Italian has been to this hostel four times, the Spanish just arrived and is trying to find a friend, and the other German is older and learning the Tango.  The younger one (with whom I had a beer but explained I wasn´t trying to pick her up) and I went to look at another hostel because although this one is nice it lacks the homely feeling she recounted to me of her past 10 months in hostels all over the world.  Perhaps if she moves there tomorrow and likes it I will follow.    

A lot of things here are pretty cheap like taking the Subte for miles costs only 23 cents.  I managed to buy two apples and a plum for 53 cents.  Maybe I can buy an animal next; because apparently all of Buenos Aires at 22:00 is walking their dog.  Or in the case of a lady I saw, 18.  I couldn´t believe how quickly the dogs attacked the trash on the curbs and then proceeded to get approval from their owner which she liberally distributed.  Ew. 

The Start of Something Big

I left Denver early yesterday afternoon for what I hoped to be an amazing experience in all respects.  Before reaching the Paris of South America I had a short layover in my favorite state, Texas.  Backstreet Boys played in my ears to keep the crazies away.  Luckily I didn’t need to interact with too many Jesus loving, football throwing, McDonald’s eating, and truck driving lunatics.  I did instead deal with a group of 50 adolescent girls returning to Cristina.  Despite the shrill yelling, group clapping, and persistent movement they weren’t too obnoxious. 

After a nearly ten hour flight of the man next to me trying to rest his 50 year old balding head on my 21 year old shoulder I was welcomed by the lush green fluffs of life in Ezeiza and the urban etches on the horizon, Buenos Aires. 

Because I accidentally arrived 10 days before my orientation (oops) I needed to manage on my own with the vague directions I was emailed.  After exchanging my dollars for pesos I secured a bus trip to Retiro once the employees inspected my Vibrams and asked if I would give them away; safe to say I am still wearing my pieces of Boulder.  Then I ordered a taxi which was only about 7USD to my hostel in San Telmo (the Buenos Aires neighborhood most associated with the Tango).  Because I arrived at noon and the check-in was not till two the receptionist directed me to the computer lab, which is actually three mismatched computers in a hall; but they still work considerably well and I am pleased.  I managed to be moderately productive, making sure “Qué carajo” actually does mean “What the Hell” and contributing to Zuckerberg’s empire.  After a quick and refreshingly cold shower I hit the cobble stone and began exploring my future home. 

Of course I didn’t really know where I was going but I just walked towards the masses and ultimately located a road of shops, street vendors, and performers that would make (Pearl St. in Boulder + 16^th St. in Denver) * 500 shame in comparison.  I kept walking till I found Plaza de Mayo and La Casa Rosada both of which were stunning. 

I decided I should probably stop fasting and eat lest I become as dry as Ben Stein.  As such, I consciously stumbled in a mall that reminded me of Union Station in DC.  I had some sandwich on some table watching some tennis match trying not to be too obvious as I observed the locals as if I were Jane Goodall in Tanzania.

Later I bought Borges, El Idioma de los Argentinos (hopefully not too trite) and began reading next to the dique that leads to the Río de Plata in Buenos Aires’ newest neighborhood, Puerto Madero.  Around me old gays rollerbladed and stray dogs searched for food, I was only interested in the latter.

I will have a Nature Valley bar and the beads of sweat will pacify me to dreamland.
Also, the men are pretty hairy but some are definitely ok.