first week in buenos aires: LET ME BREAK IT DOWN

Tomorrow will mark the date of my first week in Buenos aires, and if I do say so myself, ive been quite the tourist. But in the best and most fruitful sense of the word. Let me break it down:
Monday: my first day in Buenos aires.. walked the entire avenida Corrientes and the main block in san telmo. That walk is basically the equivalent of my apartment on 106th to 42nd st, and then over to the east river. in perhaps a quantity and quality of heat comparable to new york in august. Oh, also in jeans and hiking boots because my legs were too disgustingly bitten up to bare wearing a dress.
Tuesday: cate arrives at around 1. We eat an acelga tort and some cherry tomatoes and then head out to Palermo. We walk around Palermo and discover that unlike new york boutique shopping- which is both out of our price range and most often lacks in originality after 3 stores- the shopping in Palermo is amazing. Cate buys an awesome bathing suit top, and we discover the power of a fantastic necklace. We stop for beers at the main plaza which is boxed in with bars. This is at around 7…we’re hoping that the beers subdue our hunger until the ungodly hour that these argentinians expose themselves to the restaurant scene, but alas, we’re just not that strong. We ask for a good parillada place, but the directions to our unaccustomed ears goes to waste, and thus we’re sent searching for esquinas y derechas (corners and right turns) on unknown blocks. Finally, we find it but its only a parilla place- which means that you can get all the good meat/intenstines/liver etc that you want, but it doesn’t come on the tabla por dos personas..and thus ordering takes a bit of finesse. The voyage was well worth the wait. Ive never tasted a piece of meat more incredible. Ojo de bife. Wrapped in its own fat.. in resturaunts in the states, sometimes people wrap steak in bacon to give it more fatiness and flavor-very unnecessary in this carnivorous paradise.
Wednesday: san telmo shopping. Antique district..i bought a fantastic shirt with a crab on it. Later that day, we went to the Alamo with these guys from our hostel. It turned out to be really great. Girls paid 20 peso (≅ $5) and guys $30..but your entrada got you 3 drink tickets. I WISH I HAD MY CAMERA. With 3 tickets, you got a bucket of beer. Not bottled beers in a bucket, but the equivalent of a bucket used for washing dogs, painting houses etc…of beer. One ticket got me a vodka orange juice (just to get things rollin…). One of the guys that we went with was an Aaron Carter lookalike and thus he drew a lot attention. But good attention. Not tourist attention, or attention like the gringos get in chile. We were invited to sit down with some argentinian girls who we quickly became friends with. They invited us to a birthday party on Friday and we enthusiastically accepted. NEW FRIENDS. It concluded with a better night of hot, sticky sleep..and by better, I mean intoxicated and thus less noticeable.
Thursday: we had heard that the tourist buses were not only a great way to see the city but a good way to get around if the bus system seemed overwhelming. Plus with the heat of the day, we thought the wind on the double decker bus sounded pretty damn appealing. We hopped on at the main plaza at 1pm. Rode around and sweated our dresses see-through until we got to La Boca, a colorful district outside of the city. its location right at the port of the city made it a common destination for turn-of-the-century immigrants- think tenament NY..lots of people sharing apartment buildings, disease, poor living conditions, but the sense of upward mobility. Parts of the neighborhood are really pretty and colorful because the Italians who settled down there used the extra paint from the shipping boats to paint their buildings. In the heat of the day, it was time to retreat inside and see some museums. We saw the museo de papel—some cool prints. And then this other museum that was home to a very famous la boca artist who painted these vibrant industrial scenes. We reboarded the bus and took it to an area near Palermo where we were meeting up with this guy that cate had shared a cab with from the airport. We got beers near the plaza and then retreated inwards to a less touristy area where the drinks were perhaps cheaper. AND INDEED THEY WERE. When we were walking to meet him, I had spotted this dodgy bar that was obviously EMPTY at 7, but def had the potential of filling up. So we get there and we make our way to the roof where there are a couple of people and a nice breeze. But wait. Its Thursday and they have FREE PIZZA. Individual pizzas. As many as you want. All night. No questions asked. BEST THING EVER. We’re still not sure of the name. Either freedom bar or Hollywood in Cambodia. Either way, I now have two nights of the week checked off. Wednesdays at el Alamo and Thursdays here… im making excellent progress in this new city of mine.
Friday: move hostels in the morning. Perhaps in a different month, rancho urbano would have been a better option. But the 6 person rooms/scorching hot showers/ cat poop on the floor sitch that this hostel had going on was not working. So we moved to tango backpackers in Palermo. Its part of Hosteling International so its obligated to meet at least some health standards. A lot more English is spoken..but its not such a big deal. Later that day, wee stumbled upon semi-famous empanada place and were blown away—it was accompanied by a traditional argentinan stew (locoro) and a palava, another argentine favorite.
We still had the tourist bus option because we bought a two day pass. Hopped on at a stop near Palermo and took it to Recoleta. We hadn’t intended to go to the museo de bellas artes, but its grandeur intrigued us from afar. From up close, we were sold by its price of $0. I guess I should have assumed a city like Buenos aires would have just as much of an impressive art collection as new york, but still, I was taken aback. Tons of Degas…goya, Borrador, Torres García.. amazing. I didn’t invest in the audio tour but I have a feeling ill be back multiple times; by the time I got to the modern stuff, I had museum fatigue. Subsequently, this led to getting ripped off by an orange juice vendor, which for some season produced a roaring and uncontrollable rage. Cate had never seen this side of me. Oh the things to learn… we then went to the architecture museum which was underwhelming, but free so whatever. We made our way back to the hostel after walking through Argentinas MOST EXPENSIVE MALL.. Our days allotment of money had already been spent (mine on ORANGE JUICE!!!) and so we went to one of the many HOMEMADE pasta stores and bought ourselves some gnocchi. After cooking in the thousand degree kitchen, we napped, showered and scrapped ourselves of the sweat/dirt residue, and then prepared to venture out and meet the argentinian girls at the bar. This was at about 2am, so we were impressed that we were doing something so, well, age appropriate. The club was underwhelming, the girls weren’t there, and the drinks were expensive so we left with the intention of coming back. We found a cheaper bar a couple blocks up and sat down for sangria. These two guys started talking to us and so we carried on conversation until the point where we had convinced them to be our tour guides the next day and show us Puerto madero-an area we hadn’t seen yet. It was 4am by the time the jarra of sangria was empty, and clearly time for bed.
As an aside, neither cate nor I feel ashamed about the lack of partying we’ve done on this trip. For me, im going to be here all semester..For cate, she knows what south American partying is like?!!?? But its best to consult her blog for a more introspective analysis.
Saturday: we had heard that san telmo market was sat and sun so we planned to go san telmo on satuday, and Palermo market on Sunday because we would have to be back at the hostel at 2pm for the futbol game. Long story short, we heard wrong. So we ended up making a few phone calls and visiting a potential apartment. It was 8 blocks outside of the main square, in what seemed like a sketchier neighborhood. The apartment was coool though. Really cool. Something straight out of that French movie in spain with all the people living in the house. We made our way to Puerto madero and walked the main strip. Cate and I split a cheap burger and at 4pm, met the guys from the previous night at a plaza. We proceeded to walk the ecological reserve, get beers, and then visit another apartment near el congreso. DAY OF A LOT OF WALKING. Cate and I, predictably, had no intention of joining the Saturday night festivities and thus had an early dining experience at 9pm. Incredible wine, incredible cheese dish, mediocre meat. Got to bed at the very reasonable hour of 1am after two lovely, although sound-delayed skype sessions with liz and susan (SHOUT OUT) and a conversation with a belligerent and bumbling Coloradan at the hostel.
Sunday: Palermo market..because of the rain, not many vendors were open. Currently sitting in the hostel waiting to leave for the futbol game.


argentinians friends we made the night before....bench in reserva ecológica.

puente mujer, puerto madero.


best coffee place ever. and yes. that is a free mini ice cream cone that came with my coffee.

houligans boarding the tourist bus

snapshot of la cate y yo as we wait for the tourist bus



typical BUENOS AIRES ARCHITECTURE. que romantica.

cate and i on the tourist bus. i would argue that 70% of the reason we invested in the doudble decker was for the wind on the 2nd floor.

cate holding up the caricuture that some 12 yr old drew for us in plaza dorrego. obvioulsy, we were scammed.

FIRST DAY IN BUENOS AIRES

Tonight will be my first night in the hostel in Buenos Aires, and even without having experienced the nightlife, I already get what the hype is about. However, for better or worse, I understand it as a new Yorker; or rather, the things that I have fallen in love with already are the things that makes it similar to new york, and the things I love about my own city.
But this realization is not without others. For example, ive never considered myself much of an architecure person. Ive never studied it, and never repented not having studied it, so its been really suprising that the two places Ive really enjoyed thus far have been the places where the architecure has made a really impression on me. But ive found that rather than being impressed by the individual stucture or its mechanial features, I’m instead impressed by the aggregated physical aesetic that it contributes to the look of the city. The buildings in viña were a constant reminder that we were close to the playa, and that the people, despite the dismal politics and history of their country, could disassociate and embrace the gifts of their locale.
In Buenos Aires, the streets in between the big avenidas remind me of that classic upper west side block- between central park and Columbus, the ones when you walk down the center of the street the trees form a canopy over the rows of tightly parked cars, and only peripherally can you see the stoops and upper levels of brownstones. On the more central streets, theres an abundance of Italian-influenced buildings, with semi-juliet balconies and some novice stucco work…but very reminiscent of that building on the corner of 71st and broadway that you can see from the McDonalds corner. Again, its not that I find this style anything special, but only that it creates an urban aesethic that I relate to, and also one that I find particularly pleasing.
Although the cab driver who transported me to my hostel was less than friendly, im finding the staff at Rancho Urbano more than accommodating. The guy who checked me in gave me a host of things to do (including estimated sites of exhaustion), but I took to walking the main avenida, and gradually making my way to San Telmo, the acclaimed bohemian section of town. I encountered of a lot of independent designer boutiques- very sporty and colorful harem pants etc. The only thing that ive found regrettable about south American thus far is that the concept of an ice coffee is not only foreign but incomprehensible. And also the only thing that I crave in extreme urabn heat like this. There is nothing like walking around with a container-size cup of dunkin donuts coffee….wow, I didn’t think a MORE American phrase was possible. Alas, I managed to finagle one out of semi English speaking barista, and needless to say it hit the spot..and more.
I assume that each barrio has its own plaza central, but I doubt they have the duplicated sensation of those in traditional pueblos- tomorrow, cate and I will investigate. I’m thinking that we’re going to see Palermo tomorrow, the proclaimed Soho of Buenos Aires. It was exceptionally hot today, regardless of the fact that I was ill equipped by wearing jeans and boots.. all I know is that im doing the argentinian citizens a favor by sparing the sight of my re-opened bug-bites wounds that procured on the farm…ill think of it as the immigration impuesto that Argentina does not require.
The lights went out in the hostel and theres no internet. Thankfully, the fan is still working. Actually, im looking for a stronger word than thankfully. Mercifully?...Hm, too religious.
So its me and an un-opened bottle of wine, plus three Americans of still unidentified origin and age, although they don’t appear to be travelling together. One of them laughs like Mr.Schwaebach from high school. He’s older than the others and feels semi-out of place in the bohemian travelling culture. Outfitted in archeologist gear, in addition to his complete ignorance of the Beatles leads me to believe he’s into something with science- the nerdy type that recently finished med school, if not residency, and has just taken to travelling and the hostel culture.
The other guy just goes, “Its nice to come from one of the most prosperous countries in the world.” Oh man, I gotta get out of here.

WWOOFING in chile

Travelling alone is a profoundly different, and infinitely more scary experience, especially with the current level of my Spanish. Currently, im on the 24 hour bus to Buenos aires from viña del mar. my journey started at 6:45 am, although I chose not to sleep out of some delirious notion that my slightly intoxicated state necessitated 2 hours to pack the ten things I left out?
I don’t know how strange I look witting with my laptop on a bus, but because most of my fellow passengers are savvy Buenos Airesans(?), the appearance of a Mac should not seem THAT foreign.
My travel panic started earlier than was necessary. The bus just simply did not show when it was supposed to. I struck up pleasantries with a couple of people around me to assuage my anxiety. “The buses arrive 2 minutes before or 3 minutes after their departure time, but leave shortly after. So be ready” (they said, in Spanish) so I waited and waited and nothing came. I saw a crowd gathering at what I was assuming was our departure lane, so finally I gather my 4 cumbersome travel companions and head inside to inquire. Something with the machina ended up being faulty, and thus I would have to take a bus to Santiago (la capital de chile) and then transfer buses. When were they going to announce this information?!??! It was as though if I didn’t inquire, they simply would have done nothing. After a hazy understanding of what was required of me in Santiago, I proceeded to doze lightly on the 2 hour connection. Once in Santiago, I made the quick transfer, and found myself next to a handsome Argentinian, whom ive yet to engage in some good spanglish confusion…oh, he does not know what hes in for.
I would say that the level of my spanish is currently intelligible, although my level of understanding is only at half-mass. By that I mean that I feel as though im understanding the information that people are trying to convey, but I could not do an exact translation of what they said/how they said it, and I always feel as if I haven’t understood ALL of what was said. This is just a progress report, not something that im legitimately concerned about/discouraged by.
Last night cate and I saw Avatar before going to valpo to see some sort of festival/music performance. All I knew about the movie was that people recommended seeing it in 3D; its content, its animation, even its director were completely unknown to me. Aside from the fact that I cried through the good majority of the movie and was incredibly moved by the story (impact of fern gully x100), I think im capable of offering SOME criticism despite my awe. Because I saw it in chile, a country that has a very recent and commanding past regarding the united states and the thematic role of first world/dominant world powers, it was a really intense experience to say the least. Obviously my fellow movie-watchers were not confronting the same feelings of guilt and shame- but were they thinking, “fuckin US, at it again…typical”? The movie had Spanish subtitles, but because it was not a dialogue-heavy movie, and most of the dialogue was idiomatic expressions of typical American personalities, most of the comedy was met with delayed sighs or grunts. Oh, and one last thing. Ill put it out there and stand by it. I thought the sex scene was good, if not great. Better, and more passionate than some sex scenes with humans. Very Pocahontas meets Twilight.
But, now for some WWOOFing reflection.
Unfortunately, I would say the experience, or rather the mentality that’s required of the workers, is not for me (at this moment, in my very young age). Perhaps it just doesn’t fit with my priorities- the priorities of a young female American, such as myself. But what was alarming about this realization was not only that I had encountered an opportunity that I had chosen for myself and not liked it, nor that I would allow myself to be stereotyped in such a way that conditions my incompatibility with WWOOFing. Both things are true and equally scary. But it was more that I lacked the maturity to engage in manual labor. And not only manual labor for long hours of the day (7am-9pm), but manual labor on the basis of survival.
I discovered this fact at the first farm. Cate and I had awoken at an ungodly hour to take a bus from viña to Santiago, and then from Santiago to Linares. We got to the farm at around 6pm, and were greeted by the youngest son and daughter near the road that the bus had left us. We had met another gringa at the bus station, and thought she was a fellow WWOOFer. It turned out that she had come to south America around a year ago and had recently bought the property that faced the WWOOFing family’s land. Her house still required a ton of renovation, but it seemed like a manageable project that she attended to every morning with renewed energy. She had also fell in love with a Chilean cyclist, which probably gave her good reason to stay. Her intention was to construct a 6-10 bedroom guesthouse and convert it into a health retreat for obese Chileans. Im not sure about statistics, aside from the fact that chile is the worlds greatest consumer and producer of trigo (grain from making bread), but I know that it’s an extremely bread-heavy culture. And not pan integral. White bread, with every meal, and most times in between. Her assumption might or might not have started with the realization that atkins would simply never work in this country…perhaps not, but its still a logical conclusion.
The first night we were there, we spent time with the family in the living room, sand-papering Calabasas (gords) that the family uses for all sorts of things (bowls, utensil dishes) and sells as artisania (cactus pots, mobiles etc).
pic
I instantly clicked with the oldest daughter over our fanatic love of twilight… this might have even occurred even before she burned me with instrument she uses to decorate the gords- needless to say, I have a great scar. The children-included bonding session took place only after we had been interrogated by the parents about our values, and why on earth we live in cities??!? It gets better…hang on.
The next morning we woke at 7, and met the family in the kitchen for a quick breakfast of pan and té- a routine that would be repeated every morning. I choose to work in the fields on the first day, and had cate take kitchen duty. My first days responsibilities required weeding and making new walking tracts in between the frambuesa (raspberry) bushes. It was in this time that I met the most unfriendly of creatures. And oh the irony. THEYRE ONLY IN CHILE FOR THE MONTH OF JANUARY—go fucking figure. Really, they have a commonly known departure date- January 21st. Here they’re called the tabanos, but further south theyre referred to as the coliguacho.

Pic
This quarter-sized nemisis to human life not only travels in 2’s and 3’s, but moronically makes circles around you while discharging a horrible buzzing noise. Most argue that it’s bite does not in fact sting. I beg to differ. Most also argue that they attack because they smell the fear hormone (if you produce it- which must mean that I had converted all of my estrogen to w/e this hormone is)… to make a 3-week story short, this first day was one of the rare occasions I found myself working outside.
Some, in this family and the next, were amused by my dislike. Others were aggravated by my inability of overcome their existence, but no one more so than myself. And not for a lack of trying. I tried headphones, prayer, meditation, yoga, mantras- nothing worked. On the third day, la patrona took me into the fields to pick flowers (ones that perhaps would not attract them) but when this task failed (or I failed at being able to stand the bugs), she stopped me on our walk back to the farm, turned to look and me and said, “its your nose ring. Its not platinum- the only noble metal. Its throwing off your energy. You have bad energy. And that’s why they come to you.” THANKS?
Needless to say, I found myself doing a lot of the food preparation, in addition to sweeping and cleaning. In chile, its custom to peel everything- tomatoes included. Im now a master peeler…not really much more to say about that.
Although housework can, at times, be quite relaxing, this family made nirvana more inaccessible than it would be in rush hour traffic. “No hablamos, gritamos” (We don’t talk, we yell). Naturally they were aware of this, but it didn’t stop them from bickering at even the most indecent times of day. OVER ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING. It was apparent that they had had so many WWOOFers that outsiders didn’t seem like company, and they would conduct themselves without reservation.
My birthday happened to be more eventful than I would have ever thought possible. The kids had spoken of a hike that they intended to do the coming Sunday, but when we mentioned it was my birthday, they started hoarding the chickens eggs in order to make me a cake (it really turned out to be a cake for snacking on during the hike, but i guess I provided the excuse for a cake, as opposed to just bread) We were given the day off, and allowed to go with the kids and the gringa we met at the bus stop to this mountain called Vizcacha (?). However, when we got there, we discovered that we had been entered in a hiking race of sorts; we were given numbers, and maps, and they recorded our time at various points in the course. Needless to say, cate and I dominated.
Actually, we were amused at the time is took some people to complete the course…a good 2-3 hours after we had crossed the finish line.
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At the end of the course we were given a hearty pasta meal, during which I consumed my first alcolohic beverage as a legal drinker- light beer and orange fanta! Later that day we were given medals and t-shirts and congratulated with an awards-ceremony of sorts. It was almost embarrassing how unchallenging the course was..and receiving a medal for completing it was as good as mocking us. Later that day, we ended up a clinica because one of the girls had suffered from severe dehydration. The situation was not scary, but in any case, it did highlight our failing health care system and that if this happened in the united states, should would have had to pay generously for her banal diagnosis and an IV drip.
We only stayed at that farm for 5 days because another WWOOFer, this one male and apparently more useful than us, was coming. Some of the highlights were definitely the mothers comment about my nose ring. But its necessary to make this comment more contextual. Upon first meeting us, we proceeded to have a brief discussion of the city and country we come from. During said time, she managed to voice her belief that 9/11 was a conspiracy that the US government was in on. Okay. Later, she told us that cities were the creation of hombre (man) but with the influence of the devil. These were not Christian people. Moreover, the mother would spend her nights transcribing messages that she received from aliens- secrets and information about human evolution etc. Quite an ironic scene; 3 kids squatted around a T.V watching trashy news reports about crime and sex scandals, while their mother meditates and channels other worldy beings.
It was this ‘source’ that she used to refute our argument that cities occurred because the countryside was not able to sustain a growing population and the problems that people were encountering without the existence of government and laws.
“Who told you this?”
“Its just the course of history, its logical, but I guess we also learned it by studying the history of most countries.”
“Well, its incorrect, I know otherwise.”
The father had a less abrasive approach, although he was definitely in the same camp as his wife, despite not being one of the ‘chosen ones’. The one thing he said that stuck with me most was the idea that in cities, ones external senses are constantly being engaged- a restlessness or circumspection of everyone and everything. Por eso, one cannot concentrate on the inner senses, and reach a state of inner tranquility because there is too much going on on the outside. Its an idea that doesn’t seem terribly relevant to me as of yet and hasn’t posed many probelsm, but I think that in the future, wanting to reach/reaching this point will be something I covet.
We left in the middle of the day and arrived in Concepción at around 6 oclock. Finding a hostel was only semi difficult but we settled in a cheap pension, which is like a person who has a lot of vacant rooms in their house and rents them out occasionally; needless to say we were the only guests. Cate and I dined over a fantastic bottle of wine and pretty incredible Italian cuisine in celebration of my 21st year. At 5 the next day, we met Andy, the owner of the second WWOOFing farm that was in Concep dropping another WWOOFer at the bus.
Despite preparing myself for an aussie accent, andy turned out to be an older British gentlemen with embarrassing Spanish. He had met Carmen, la Patrona de la casa, in the mid-90’s back in England but she had convinced him to move back to Chile with her. She would not arrive until 3 days later, but what she lacked for in time, she made up for in evil.
(..to be continued)
pictures:



our view on the farm.

our moms prayer circle...how she communicated with aliens

meta! (finish line)

our living quarters

the family home.



mid-climb kodak moment

top of the mountain: our time 2:37...not bad?

cate and i wearing our t-shirts after the race

our woodburning stove...what we used to cook all of our meals

picture of the enemy

me on my 21st birthday!

artesania that the family makes out of calabasas (gords)

Today is our last day in Viña. Cate and Amanda had made a list of things that they wanted to show me, and I think we’ve crossed off just about everything. I got to see those incredible dunes that ive been seein in cate and amanda’s pictures and they were beyond words. Minus the desolation and thirst, I actually feel like I now know what it would feel like to be stranded in the desert- colossal mounds of sand are actually as hard to climb as you would think!




My profile picture is taken there but it really doesn’t capture the beauty. We took a pretty long bus ride to get there but when got off right in the middle of a highway, all you see are these massive sand piles. There were people selling wooden snowboards for sand surfing, and the occasional asshole who would zoom by on this 4-wheeler. God, men and their need for speed?



Yeserday, cate and I went to the house of famous Chilean poet Pablo Neruda. This was only after we drank wine and ate some ceviche in a super market haha. This event was then followed by lunch where cate and I both sampled our first chorillana (a pile of fries with chopped steak, chorizo onions and a fried egg on top)…obviously the equivalent of a heart attack on a plate, but we had a massive hill to climb after it so we weren’t too preoccupied with the calories. Valparaíso is incredibly beautiful in that it has the look of the semi-beautiful brazilian favelas and their colored roofs, but without the drug lords and with actual sanitation. That, and it looks right into the pacific.
When we got to the house, there weren’t a lot of people there because the day had been pretty overcast. Regardless, as we were looking out onto his patio, cate says to me- “Neruda must have just said to himself- im going to build my house in the most beautiful location in valpo.” And she was right. The house was an asymmetrical, 5-floor masterpiece of collectibles for the poet’s life. The entrada came with an audio tour that detailed the acquisition of each of his collectibles, as well as his philosphies about homes and objects, leisure and work. The decorations in their entirety had this very whimsical element- pink and white striped wall paper, a very bulbous fire place that separated his circular living room and the boxy dining room.. all enclosed by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the colorful rooftops of valpo and into the mar. it was really spectacular.


Later that night, we celebrated sarah’s (friend from cates program) last night. Amanda cate and I begun the festivities with Annies (generously provided by Amanda) and a WHOLE LOTTA rum and piña/durazno jugo. Another homestay student from Mississippi came along and pregamed the night. For some reason, we felt is necessary to preemptively tell her that she was going to feel overwhelmed/excluded because of our dominating New York peronalities..as if she wasn’t going to discover this on her own?! The conversation turned political/religious but we knew we had to make a decision. AGREE TO DISAGREE …and keep drinking.

(clearly i felt bloated)

We ended up going to a bar right around the corner. Personally, I felt like I was in a Brittney Spears video..but then again, when do I not. The back of the bar was the dance area and white tapestries hung from the ceiling to create a circus-tent affect. Naturally, the gringas got on the DJ stage, which in turn caused fear and trepidation in our onlookers below and thus no one asked us to dance. Finally, some 12 yr. old white boy that looked straight out of the opening scene of clueness..asked me to dance—


but how long is it acceptable/legal to grind with a minor?
we left cuz cate felt ANOTHER craving for mcdonalds. This time, her defense was that she didn’t get two pieces of meat…only one. We’ve been justifying these late-night cravings with the notion that on the granjas, we’ll be more or less vegetarian, free of alcohol and marijuana, and thus we’ll regain our bodily purity- somehow. These fun argentinian guys started to talk to us after we chowed down, and we exchanged emails. GREAT SUCCESS- tour guides for when we travel to Mendoza! I found their Spanish a lot easier to understand so that puts me at a certain degree of ease. Also, ive noticed that all of these south american men smoke cigarettes in a very feminine way and ive questioned, on more than one occasion, whether or not theyre gay? Commentarios? Maybe its just my American perception of gay behavior/indictors…
Amanda is coming to meet me for our last day of fería shopping and then its off to the granjas. We’ll wake up tomorrow at the crack of dawn to travel the two hours from viña to Santiago and take another 5-6 hour bus to Linarés, and then another short bus to somewhere near the farm. Cate said the woman sounded really sweet on the phone, and this is also where ill be ringing in my 21st year of life, so hopefully we enjoy the company.

¡felíz año Nuevo! From what im told, we’re celebrated a couple of hours earlier than the majority of people that read this blog, and in much better weather..i can only assume. The tradition here is very different from the one in the states but after having experienced it, I think it accords very much with their emphasis on family and tradition. Viã del mar is right on the beach, as ive mentioned, and so all of the families go to the apartment with the best view of the ocean, of stake out a place on the boardwalk with their families and bring in the new year together. They wear yellow underwear for goodluck, eat 12 uvas (grapes) at midnight for goodluck every month of the year and also hold a dollar, or more like 10,000mil (≈$20) for wealth in the new year. Theyre all little superstitions but its comical to see how widespread it is. EVERYONE HAD UVAS IN THEIR BASKET AT THE SUPERMARKET.
As an aside, im writing this in my room while cate is still asleep (rarity) and there is this fly in my room. Did you ever notice how malicious a fly appears- it does this thing with its two front feet(?) as if its rubbing its hands together and plotting revenge on the human population. TANGENT
After you bring in the new year with your family, all the kids go out and the parents go to bed. But the point is to be with your family when it turns into the new year, and no trying/failing at finding someone to swap spit with.

Eitherway though, the plan was not to spend new years with amandas homestay family (even though they had the best view) because we were not invited. However, the 4 hour pregame left us a bit behind schedule as we had wanted to make it closer to the venue we bought tickets for. Instead, we make it just outside amanads house and my blatter comes beckoning. I decide that the matter is too urgent and that ill just go knock on amandas door, blabber my way through an excuse, and get a good view of the fireworks. This all worked out well except for the explanatory portion, which failed miserably. I think the prayer position of my hands sufficiently handled the job, but only after some time. I didn’t feel as though I was intruding all that much in the end, becuas these were the people we had spent Christmas with.
Viña del mar is internationally known for its new year’s fireworks show, and this year, a panel of Guinness book judges came to see the fuegos. For what I could see, there were 6 different raft-y things that the fireworks were going off from. It was pretty breathtaking. The lights below from the people wearing light-up head-gear, the beautiful night, the 30 min fireworks show, the company, the champagne. The only thing was lacking was that traditional MTV countdown; I found myself a bit confused as to when it was 11:59..but its comes and goes.
Afterwards, cate and sarah came up to amandas house, also uninvited, to pee and refuel for the long night ahead. We basically stuffed ourselves silly with sodadillas (beleenie equivalents) with all types of dip. YUM. We left after we felt sufficiently bloated and started the trek towards Salinas, which we were already hearing mixed reviews about.
The night and the club turned out to the better than expected but its still annoying that places ON NEW YEARS claim to have open bar. First off, there was only ONE bar and people were basically slammed on top of eachother, not moving, as THREE bartenders tried to serve 6-8,000 people- or so we are told. The venue itself thought, was very cool. Upstairs,downstairs,”champagne room”,outdoor tent with live rappers and a reggaeton artist, right on the water/position into the rocks-. We went with a decent amount of people, but somehow that did not stop the guys for positioning us to dance. Too bad its so far from true what they say about latin guys and dancing- they might like caderas (hips) on girls, but they surely don’t know how to move theirs. All around though, we had an excellent time. Amanda was coma-tose for parts but suddenly revitalized during blackeyed peas or being positioned by the many men with mullets. Well, it’s the euro mullet, but revamped. Sometimes it’s the shaved sides with curls in the back, dreads in the back, and unidentifiable assortment of the two. The guys and girls were all very attractive, but very young- this is something we had been warned about but it’s still a bit confusing. All the people at this club with 19-23 but they all looked like they were still in highschool. Anyone we talked to immediately asked how old we were because we stood out that much.
We left at 5ish and took the bus home. Along the way, cate got a crazing for mcdonalds. Perhaps it was not a craving but the only appropriate response to spending new years together in a foreign place. Fortunately, I did not break my ten year record of no mcdonalds but I will agree with cate that the meat did not taste as processed or greasy as I remembered/could imagine them in the states. On our very short sprint back to the apartment at 6am, all of the bars were still incredibly packed, almost as if the sun was not RISING.
Now we’re on our way to amandas place because her family went to their weekend house so we have apartment to ourselves to cook and drink mamosas and probably go to her pool…oh the life.