VICTORY!

WE FOUND ROOT BEER!!!!!!!!!!

I found it hidden away at the end of the aisle and proceeded to scream at Leah from across the store until she got to me. Everyone though we were crazy, it was so exciting, and of course we took pictures. We then bought ¨svelty¨ vanilla ice cream and introduced Dominic´s family to root beer floats. They loved them and hopefully we are spreading a tradition.

Happy New Year and we´ll be sure to post our adventures tomorrow!

Days 2 & 3: Viña del Mar, Chile

Kelly spoke to soon as she closed her posts declaring us non-sunburned, as she managed to miss 2 large spots on her back that now gleam an irritated red.

We took the 10 pm bus from Mendoza after showering in the bus station. We were again on the top floor of the double-decker in the front seat: the death seat. Fortunately we couldn't see more than a few feet in front of us (except when we were passing trucks and had buses coming straight at us, which happened twice) because we were winding around the edges of mountain cliffs that surely would have made me nauseous if visible. We also had an extremely obnoxious woman with hot pink lipstick across the aisle from us who jabbered away all night. At about 2 am we crossed the border, having to wake up and get out to go through customs. Not so fun. And not at all warm...we were rather unprepared for the freezing weather atop the Andes mountains. We shivered our way in a half-sleep through various security points and then off we went.

We arrived in Viña del Mar at 4:30 in the morning, an hour and a half before ETA. Without cell phone or Chilean currency, we were trapped in the freezing station, fighting sleep and waiting for Dominic, my friend who we're staying with, to come save us. It was the best exercise in patience I have ever undergone.

We slept until 5 in the afternoon in the most comforting down bed and awoke to a delicious meal with her family. Her parents are nice and her 9 year old brother is energetic and funny, but none of them speak English so conversation can be difficult at times. Fortunately we have Kelly's sunburn to talk about all the time.

At night we went out to the Carnaval Cultural in Valparaiso, a neighboring coastal town with the biggest New Years celebration in South America and quite a lot of festivity leading up to it. We, as well as pretty much the rest of Chile, showed up for a free concert that a popular Chilean group - Shamanes - was giving. Note: we have officially left the land of cumbia and tango and are onto all reggaeton, all the time.

The crowd was so thick that I literally was forced to lift my feet at times and still was moved along with the rush of people. It was the only time in my life I have seriously feared death by trampling. But the music was fun and the dancers entertaining and Dominic and her friends taught us how to dance like a Chilean while passing the boxed wine. The next group up was Chico de Trujillo, who are apparently lesser known but play more typically Chilean beats. Dancing to this music involved a lot of jumping up and down, which was good because it was pretty darn cold out.

After the concerts everyone walked to a street with an extreme incline and chilled with all the other party-goers. This is where we had our first go at a Chilean classic - an Italiano - which is a hot dog in a GIANT bun and loaded with tomatoes and avocado (and mayo, but we got without) to look like the Italian flag. We danced with random drum circles and later sat in our own circle with Dominic and co singing Spanish songs and Kelly and I contributing beat-boxing rhythms.

The next day we slept in (her parents think we do nothing but sleep) and woke up again just in time for lunch. Dominic´s grandpa offered to take us to Concón, a small town nearby, and we got a crazy ride up and down the many hills of the coast. We stopped to get out to walk around rocks jutting out into the water, it was stunningly beautiful despite the cloudy weather, and we could see hints of the land surrounding the cove in the distance. Then we went to a nice beach and stuck our feet in, but it was literally freezing, so we went for seafood empanadas (delicious) then made our way back. We passed giant sand dunes on the way, which we promptly climbed despite the near-vertical incline (everything we do is in preparation for walking the Inca trail...) to get a great view of the ocean on the other side.

At night we relaxed at Domi's house, watched My Best Friends Wedding and ate homemade cake her mom had waiting in the oven for us. Chile is pretty fabulous.

Day 1...MENDOZA!

I am currently typing in a cyber cafe in Mendoza, Argentina and the keyboard is completely different then what I am used to, so forgive any typos. On the plus side, the computer mouse I´m using has a picture of Bart Simpson sticking his tongue out at me. Have I ever mentioned how obsessed South America is with the Simpsons?

Anyways, we started off our adventure last night at 8 pm. We got to sit in the very front of the bus, which is basically like a rollercoaster ride. The driver never stays on his side of the road and it definitely felt like we were in the death seats. Once we sat down and got comfortable, we eagerly awaited the beginning of whatever ridiculous movie the bus driver was going to pick. As we saw the play symbol appear on the tvs, we laid back and got ready. Little did we realize it was a 2 hour long dvd of the most random music videos ever. Some of my favorites include ¨2 Hearts¨ by Phil Collins, ¨Chiquadita¨ by ABBA, and ¨Always¨ by Bon Jovi. Definitely the best was when Air Supply´s music video came on for ¨All Out of Love¨ and it was a kareoke version. Leah and I sang along quite loudly, along with the crazy wine guides who were sitting behind us. We began talking to them and they offered to give us a wine tour, but we preferred to do our own thing and left them at the bus station.

We got into Mendoza around 8 30 am and it none of the tourist places opened until 9 so we had breakfast at a nice cafe and planned our day. We got some tourist information and we told to go rent bikes at a shop called ¨Mr. Hugo´s.¨ It was this awesome little shop with tons of bikes, 2 dogs and a parrot that would scream hola at you. We grabbed a map, hopped on our bikes, and rode off wearing about 18 coats of sun block.

Our first stop was about 4 km away. There were no real bike trails so Leah and I just rode along the side of the road. Luckily the drivers were all used to bikers so we never came close to getting hit. Our only issue was getting absurd pick up lines thrown at us as cars whizzed by. Don´t worry parents, neither of us were tempted.

We went to a wine museum and got to see how wine was made, sampled several different types of wine at several wineries and had a great lunch at one of them. Our favorite spot was definitely ¨Histores and Sabores¨ which was a chocolate and liquor shop that had over 30 different flavors of liquor. We each got to sample one. I chose pomelo while Leah went for the banana with dulce de leche, shocking I know.

We finally returned to Mr. Hugo´s and I´m not gonna lie, I really can´t feel my butt right now. We biked over 30 km and the last 5 were incredibly painful. Fortunately, good old Mr. Hugo welcomed us big with a big glass of wine and a hammock to rest our weary bodies in.

So that was our first day, no one got too sunburnt, and we are catching a bus tonight at 10 pm that will get us into Santiago around 6 am. No idea what is in store for us, but I´m pretty excited.

And We're Off!

Okay everyone, after packing up all our crap and throwing away stuff we forgot we had, Leah and I are ready for our "Great South American Adventure!" This will be the last post I make from my computer for 2 months, which I think is pretty crazy. I have a feeling we will be blogging a lot more frequently because we will have so much to talk about, so get excited.

Our first stop is Mendoza for a day, then we are off to Chile. Wish us luck!

Merry Christmas everyone!

So Christmastime in Argentina is a bit different from what we're used to. And all we really wanted was snow. But instead I went to work in a halter top and ended up sweating all night regardless.

On Christmas Eve everything is closed here because it's the Argentines bigger night of celebration instead of Christmas Day. So since Sugar was open and served food, every single foreigner in the city was there ordering hamburgers. And a few single dads with kids...very much Tim Allen, Denny's, "The Santa Clause" for those of you who know what I'm talking about. This meant that I was extremely stressed until the kitchen closed at 1 am, at which point I was able to relax a bit and hang out with Kelly and my friends who showed up at the bar. It ended up not being such a bad way to celebrate, and I think everyone there felt a certain camaraderie of the shared desire to all be in our respective homes for the holidays.

Get Inspired!

I Found this video, I think it's amazing. If you have an urge to be inspired, or feeling low, or just want to test your movie trivia, check this out!

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Pasta pasta

When looking for dining recommendations in Buenos Aires, I always resort to www.guiaoleo.com.ar , which is what life would be like if Argentina had google maps... or any other useful, logical, modern tool for locating and rating desirable city features. What information I find there is always crosschecked on SaltShaker, the blog of an American chef living in BA. He has a closed door restaurant that I've heard is wonderful and writes useful reviews about eating in the city, so when I found out he was going to offer cooking classes, I tried to hop on. Unfortunately, they had filled up almost immediately, but I emailed him and he said if I wanted to squeeze into sporadic classes of the 10-class series, we could work something out.

The series is focused on Italian food, and I chose my first class as the second of the series: pasta. I spent Tuesday morning with two Americans, far more clued into the gastronomy world than I, and Dan, our leader. I learned an incredible amount about Italian cooking, flour, and food shopping in Buenos Aires...everything from why put a good amount of salt in boiling water (it allows you to boil the water at a higher temperature) to where to find purple corn from Chile that makes a refreshing (non-alcoholic) drink called Chicha that I've become quite a fan of. We also skimmed some of Dan's history and experience in the culinary world: turns out he used to be the manager of the wine selection for Lidia Bastianich's restaurants (she has a well-known Italian cooking TV show and several upscale restaurants...Mom and Evan: remember when we went to Becco?)

The first pasta we made we did completely from scratch (the rest we used mixers to quicken the kneading process). It's called Pici alle Briciole - basically thick peasant noodles in an agli'e olio sauce with breadcrumbs for texture. Then we made a whole wheat pasta, Langanelli con I Ceci, in a surprising garbanzo and celery sauce. Then Agnolotti, which are like half-moon ravioli, which we baked like empanadas and dipped in sauce. Finally came the gnocchi in herbed cream sauce, which almost didn't make it but fortunately was salvaged and turned out deliciously. My favorite was the Pici...it was a texture I have never before experienced. Everyone else seemed thrilled by the whole wheat pasta, which was good, but I think they were just originally whole wheat downers who were shocked that whole wheat could be so delicious....but not this girl. I knew better.

Here's Dan's post with link to pictures of our meal: http://www.saltshaker.net/20081210/magic-and-pasta

Happy Immaculate Conception Day!

It is now 7:11 in the evening and I am just waking up. The still heat is stifling and our fans are useless...if I could sleep more I would. But I suppose I have to be awake anyway because we're making a trip to La Cabrera tonight, our favorite spot for steak in town.

I slept all day because it is Virgin Mary day or Immaculate Conception day or something along those lines...basically it's an Argentines-don't-feel-like-working day, so I have the day off. Which in parallel meant that I had a day on at the bar - we stayed open all Sunday night as if it were a Friday or a Saturday. Now that summer vacations have started and study abroad students are returning home for the holidays, the clientele has switched from a good mix of expats and Argentines to almost strictly Argie, meaning less tips and later hours for us. David, a Brazilian kitchen guy, is leaving today and will be gone for a few months (as most of us will be), and as he's the first to go, a bunch of us thought we might as well go out after work. At 7 am. It's amazing that you can do that here, but I surely won't be making a habit of it. 7:11 is too late to wake up.

Kelly and I dined last night at Sarkis, a much talked about Armenian restaurant in Palermo. Kelly, having never had Armenian/Middle Eastern food, was a bit nervous I think, but since her foray into Indian cuisine last month went so well I wasn't concerned. We showed up at 9 (on the early side in this country) and despite a huge dining room were made to wait for a spot while space cleared. The dining room was so vast that our waiter resorted to air traffic controller-like hand motions to guide us to our table from across the room.

Dinner was delicious, we got a quartet of appetizers that the waiter recommended, and then we shared a lamb entree. Which first showed up without yogurt, which I was having none of, so he brought the plate back and doused it in yogurt and pita and onion, and presented it to us with a rather exaggerated but earnest 'ta-DA!' We ate til we physically could not continue, and walked to Sugar.

***Pictures added below, to Thanksgiving dinner post

In the spirit of December and Christmas and any excuse to be able to play one of my favorite SNL skits, I give you DICK IN A BOX!

Causing A Scene

Yesterday Leah and I went shopping with some friends at Once, the cheaper, more fun shopping district in Buenos Aires.  It came to our attention that there were several t shirts with interesting pictures or catch phrases and here are my top three:

1. A t-shirt that said, "I like the kisses, follow me."

2. A tank top that had a picture of Macaulay Culkin doing his famous Home Alone face.  Oh and a picture of Michael Jackson creepily staring at him from behind through a window. And of course I found a picture of it, so why don't I just show you:

3. My all time favorite t shirt that I desperately wish I had purchased was a dark blue with the word DIVA down one side in large silver glittery letters and the lyrics to Tina Turner's "Private Dancer" down the other side.  

Because of these lyrics, the rest of our night consisted of Leah and I breaking randomly into the song, singing like we too had lived a rough 50 years of smoking cigarettes and dancing privately for money, just to live, just to survive!  The shimmy dance we used definitely added to the performance and everyone at California Burrito Company either loved us and joined in, or thought we were insane.  

Happy December!

It's officially December, which means it's time to bring out the Christmas music!  Leah and I sat in the kitchen for about 2 hours today, drinking delicious mate and blasting carols.  The two Italian girls chilling with us were able to feign ignorance over knowing the lyrics of our songs, but don't worry, we promised (more like threatened) that they would know the words by the time Christmas rolls around.  

Hottest Thanksgiving EVER

Leah and I spent our glorious Thanksgiving holiday in a wonderful little resteraunt called Amaranta Bistro.  They had everything we could have possibly asked for in a Thanksgiving meal, even cranberries!  There was this awesome butternut squash soup, turkey with stuffing, potatoes, vegetables, and of course, pumpkin pie.

The only problem was that it was hot.  Not hot in the way that you feel mildly uncomfortable, but hot in such a way that sweat was pouring off everyone in rivers.  There was only one fan in the entire place, and it was placed above our table so that it hit all the other tables perfectly, but not ours.  I think Leah and I each went through 3 bottles of water before we had even finished the first course.  The worst past was that once the food was brought out, the steam from the food would hit us in the face and makes us even HOTTER, if it was at all possible.  I later found out from a friend that this Thanksgiving was the hottest one on record in BsAs.  If you were standing out in the sun, then you were standing in 104 degree heat.  

Stuffed and incredibly overheated, we decided our only option was to go chill in the cinema for a couple of hours and cool down in the amazing air conditioning.  We bought tickets for the only movie showing at that time, having no idea what it was about.  It turned out to be some terrible movie with Catherine Zeta-Jones and Guy Pearce about Houdini and psychics and true love blah blah blah. 

After the movie we went to an air conditioned bar for a while, were still incredibly overheated and decided to go home to watch my favorite actor, Tim Allen, in The Santa Clause.  On the way home the wind was so strong we were blinded by the debris in the air and saw someone actually get hit by a blowing branch.  We got inside just before the storm arrived, which thankfully broke the heat wave.

I also should mention that Leah decided to dye her hair that afternoon.  We spent at least 20 minutes studing the boxes at the pharmacy, deciding which red would be perfect for her hair.  We chose a light, rich red, very similar to the color her hair already was.  So we watched a Friends Thanksgiving episode (the one with all the thanksgivings) and dyed her hair. Unfortunately, after Leah rinsed her hair out, we realized the box had LIED.  Her hair is now darker than mine, if you can imagine, with hints of red, but definitely far FAR different than it was before.  I'm finally getting used to it and think this is a good look for her, because who doesn't want to be a brunette? 

Video: Iguazu and Misiones

Actual video footage proof that we are still alive and kicking in Argentina...

Get Excited

Okay, get excited because all day Leah and I have been working on an awesome photo montage/video thing of our trip last week. And by working on I mean she has put the entire thing together while I just sat there laughing til I cried of shame over movies of me playing with my food on a bus ride.  Hopefully that footage will never be seen by you fine readers, but Leah has been known to have a cruel streak, so be kind if you view it.

It should be up within the next couple of days and I feel like it's been put together so well that you will feel like you were actually THERE.  And with awesome music.

My 2 cents

Okay, so Leah has done an amazing job describing the first leg of our vacation, I just thought I would make a few comments of my own. Being the lucky person I am, I have had the opportunity to visit the falls twice now, and both experiences were equally amazing.

I never realized one month difference could change the falls so much. It was 20 degrees hotter, much sunnier, and full of mosquitoes. Thankfully Leah and I had the foresight to purchase suntan lotion and bug spray before the visiting the falls, with the latter having the amazing brand name of "Fush!" I am also grateful to Leah for being equally, if not more, insane than I about applying our suntan lotion. I think we must have stopped every hour to put more on, yet I still managed to get red. Why am I so pale?!

Anyways, there was also more wildlife this time around. Last month I saw iguanas, a tucan, and coatis. The coatis were actually my favorite part. They are the south american version of the raccoon and will steal your food from you if you turn to look somewhere else. There were signs everywhere saying to watch out because they may bite, but I just thought they were too cute to do so. Then out of the jungle lumbered this giant coati that had a coller on it. Something tells me that that fat guy was the reason for all of the signs.

This time there were fewer coatis, but a lot more iguanas and little lizards. An iguana actually sprinted across my feet when i was walking up the side of the waterfall. I had no idea that lizards could move that fast, so it was pretty cool. We saw birds, termites, and giant ants similar to those in the 4th Indiana Jones, so you can imagine how gross they were. We even saw wild guinea pigs.

San Ignacio was also pretty cool and Leah didn't get a chance to mention my favorite part of the entire visit. We kind of joined a tour group, but about two minutes in realized we were the youngest people in the group by about 50 years and probably joined a private tour we weren't supposed to be on. The best part was the crazy old woman who made the group go into the shade and then basically fired questions at the tour guide for about 10 minutes. The poor guy answered them the best he could and afterword the woman insisted she be allowed to sit down because she was tired. Now I don't know if this was explained very well, but The San Ignacio ruins were spread out over about 6 acres of land, and we had only walked past the entrance. I don't know what this woman was thinking, but if she was already tired after having walked about 4 feet, how was she going to do the whole tour? I couldn't help but think her exhaustion was due to the heavy black jumpsuit she was wearing with about 10 lbs of jewelry and her high heels. We obviously took a picture of her and will post it as soon as possible.

Posadas was amazing and we will update soon. I also just want to take this moment to thank the game "Amazon Trail." Because of this game, (similar to Oregon Trail,) Leah and I were able to recognize most of the animals our tour guide talked about during the jungle tour and when we went to the Puma reserve in Posadas. Who knew that game was so accurate?

Iguazú Deja Vu

So almost a month ago, Kelly last updated the blog with the first edition of her thrilling tales of Iguazú. Since then, the blog broke down and we didn't update. Or, more accurately, nothing exciting really happened that merited rapid dissemination to all family and friends...until now.

Mostly, I've been keeping to a consistent schedule of teaching English Mon-Thurs and working the night shift at Sugar Bar on Fridays and Saturdays. As the weather got warmer (reminder: southern hemisphere), I started to feel smothered by the city having not left its gray, concrete confines since arrival in July. This led to a sort of panic: I HAD to get out of the city. So I canceled classes for the week (not being able to take a night off from bartending) and decided it was the perfect amount of time to see Iguazú falls. I was letting nothing stop me, even if I had to travel alone, but fortunately Kelly enjoyed herself so much on her first visit to the falls she didn't hesitate in agreeing to come along.

It's a condition of those traveling to Iguazú who are of a certain age and travel type to stay at the Hostel Inn. It's the nicest hostel I've ever seen - beautiful pool, good food, breazy lobby. However, the border town of Puerto Iguazú is somewhat lacking (though we did discover that they have quite a booming olive industry...who knew) and so visits are brief, generally limited to 2 nights: enough to see the waterfalls and experience the full rotation of meals served at the hostel. Which are amazing. The first night was a Brazilian rodizio style asado (which is to say a luscious side dish buffet and endless meat parading by on trays for your selection) with bottomless caipirinhas. This night's dinner is accompanied by a show; we were there for Argentine tango night, though Kelly experienced Brazilian showgirl night on her last visit. The whole town seems to be confused about whether it should be pandering Brazilian or Argentine customs to the tourists.

We spend the entire day on Wednesday in the national park that surrounds the falls, springing for the 'Gran Aventura' package tour which started with a ride on a 4-wheeler through the subtropical rainforest. Kelly and I managed to amuse boundless Germans with our renditions of the Indiana Jones theme song and various photo shoots. We saw 2 tucans and I saw some kind of midsize mammal scurry across the way (which Kelly missed because all I could muster at the sight of it was 'Kelly! Look! It's a thing...with a thing! Look!' and she understandably had no idea where to turn). We then boarded a boad and navigated the narrow rapids with Brazil on our left and Argentina on our right (closest I'll be getting to that country if they expect me to pay $100 for a visa) and approached the falls, which are completely indescribeable. You just have to go, there's no other way. You can look at pictures, but it won't really help.

The next day we woke early to travel on a bus for 5 hours to San Ignacio, which Lonely Planet said had some ruins. Sounded good to us.

The bus dropped us off on a red dirt road, one of many that cover Misiones province, which was kind of cool but kind of distressing as we had no idea where to go. Fortunately, the town is limited in size and activity and we were quickly able to assess that we needed to walk 5 'blocks' to see the ruins. Then we could leave.

We had lunch at Café Yesica, which was a sad spot to say the least. We pondered what it would be like to have such places as the finest restaurants in town. But we ate well and went on to the ruins, which were rather stunning in their size and vibrant red color. We joined a random tour that was in Spanish, left that after a bit and rambled about on our own. San Ignacio was a mission founded in the 17th century we learned, and we saw the inside of quite a large church, the library, row after row of houses, and the jail. It was fascinating, but the burning sun made us in a hurry to leave and we hopped back on a bus for an hour ride to Posadas.

My piece of advice for those traveling to Posadas: do not trust Lonely Planet. Nothing is right. The hostel we sought didn't exist, the naturaly history museum, aviary, and serpentarium, the main sites we wanted to see, had all closed years ago, and the best restaurant in town had changed names and ownership. We checked into a hotel the first night that was rather nice and were so tired that we were immediately sucked into an amazing Lifetime-style movie about a Amish orphans who are forced to move to Portland, OR of all places to live with their estranged aunt. It was amazing in its terribleness. Saving Sarah Caine I believe it was called. We then forced ourselves out for probably the most delicious meal we've had in a while. We had bountiful leftovers that we stocked in our minifridge with full intentions of finishing after we got back from the pub later that evening. However, we never made it to the leftovers as we both passed out into a food coma and then were both rudely awakened by food poisoning. Still, days later, we wished we had taken those leftovers with us, they were that good.

On our full day in Posadas we were at a loss for what to do. Fortunately, Posadas happens to have a fabulous Tourist Info Office that enumeriated for us all the possibilities (it was not a long list, but a thorough one). We decided on a trip to the Puma reserve followed by a day in town with a visit to the Paraguyan goods market and a stroll along the river coast. More on that later as my battery is dying.

Hooray, the blog is working again!

Sorry it's been so long, but day-light savings time seemed to mess with our blog and we couldn't post anything for a couple of weeks. But now that it seems to be working again, I thought I would share my amazing adventures in IGUAZU!

So before I get going, I'm warning that this is going to be a pretty long post and broken into two parts so it doesn't look so awkward. I'm also going to write like I just went this past weekend because I saved it when it wasn't posting on the blog and it's easeier that way. It's basically uncensored as well because it's soooo much funnier that way.  And for those of you who don't know, Iguazu Falls is a series of waterfalls shared by Argentina and Brazil and were featured in the recent (and pretty terrible) Indiana Jones flick, making them extra cool.  

So last week at some point, the idea of going to Iguazu was mentioned at a bar by my friend Kris.  I didn't really think anything of it until Wednesday, when Anna apparently volunteered me to go and I was included in the plans.  I am greatful to her for this, because as most of you know, I really need a push to go through with things and I never really had any intention of going until she basically forced me to.  Anna and I were going with 4 other people, but decided to take a cheaper, less fancy bus then them, so we left at different times, but would meet at the station in Puerto Iguazu and then go to our hostel.  So we bought our tickets for

 the 20 hour bus ride and planned on leaving Thursday night at 6 55.

We arrived at the bus station with plenty of time to spare.  We asked an attendent which bus to go to and he pointed us towards one headed to Iguazu.  We stood in line and the conductor looked at my ticket, tore off the stub, then did a double take.  He proceeded to tell us that this was the wrong bus and our bus was about 4 over.  Unfortunately, by this time it was 6:57 and OUR BUS HAD ALREADY LEFT!  Nothing in Argentina EVER runs on time, but this one bus had to be on schedule, with no last call, no nothing.  So we ran over to our ticket booth and freaked out at the ticket guy until he managed to get us another bus, but it cost 40 more pesos and was a much less comfortab

le bus.  He then walked us over to where the bus would be and told us not to move until our bus got there at 8.  We stood there, really pissed off at ourselves and the whole bus station.  I kept checking the clock and at 7:55 we began to freak out because the bus was not there.  The same conductor who we talked to earlier saw us and tried to calm us down and finally just told us to go on a different bus from a completely different company because it had room and was headed towards Iguazu.

So we got on our bus (which left 10 minutes late, btw) and tried to relax, but not before seeing the bus we were supposed to be on pull up as we were leaving.  Oops.  Worse news was to come.  This bus company was the only company in the entire bus station that did NOT serve alcohol with dinner, which was basically the only perk of the 20 hour bus ride.  So there 

we were, leaving an hour later, on a cheaper, slower bus with no booze to help medicate us through the long ride.

Just as Anna and I were at the point of despair, we turned around and saw sitting behind us not one, not two, but FIVE american guys who had clearly started drinking and had several bottles of alcohol between them.  We started talking to them, found out they were all University of Colorodo students and were staying at the same hostel as us.  We talked from our seats several rows away for a while, ate the disgusting food that was supposed to be dinner, then moved to the back with them to have a mini party.

We hung out in the back of the bus with these guys for several hours, probably annoying everyone around us.  We were delayed two hours due to a traffic accident, which only made everyone on the bus more restless and annoyed.  We played card games, watched a terrible Argentine movie, and even sang a few disney songs.  Anna and I decided we were tired and wanted to get a good nights sleep at around 1, so we said good night and passed out.  The boys said they settled down around 3, probably more from the amount of alcohol they drank than from actually being tired.

Now, throughout our entire mini party in the back, one boy was especially drunk.  His name was Damon and he was slurring and forgetful and overall very funny.  What wasn't funny was when I woke up at around 3:30 am to hear him spitting behind me.  This concerned me because whenever I am about to throw up, I normally spit several times beforehand.  I turned around to see him bend over and my fears were realized when he began to throw up all over his feet and the floor.  I woke up Anna and we both stared in horror as he threw up several more times.  I began to hit the leg of John, his seatmate and told him to wake up and help his friend.  John pretended not to hear me until I told him that Damon had thrown up on his feet.  That got his attention and he went to get napkins to clean up the mess.  The smell was awful, but when we woke up the next day at noon, we could finally see the humor in the situation.

We finally arrived in Puerto Iguazu at 4:30 pm, 20.5 hours after we had begun.  We took cabs with our new best friends, the University of Colorado boys, and headed towards the hostel.  We checked in, relaxed, had dinner, then tried to go tob e dearly for our 7 am wake up call.

I'll actually talk about the falls in the next post, so bear with me as I try to type it all out.

break down

hi everyone, the blog is having some problems right now, but we're working on it. check back soon for exciting updates including kelly's trek to iguazu falls and leah's teaching and bartending escapades.

Time Bomb

One great thing about this hemisphere is that we still celebrate the ravaging of the Americas by Columbus, so I didn't have to work! Meaning I got to experience la Bomba de Tiempo for the first time, which, as Kelly has mentioned, is every Monday at 8 or so in Konex. It is a drum circle of some of the best musicians in the city, plus several hundred crazed (and surely drugged) fanatics gyrating and jumping and going to any length to try to identify with the beat. It is impossible to explain. I had somehow convinced Carolina and Andrea, two of my bartender friends from Sugar, to come with us, and we were all completely soaked through with sweat by the end, so naturally, we got pizza.

The pizza was fabulous...the experience, a little off-beat. Halfway through the meal the lights went out and the black crushed velvet curtains parted to reveal...a puppet show. That might have been funny, I don't know, I was too distressed to pay attention to the Spanish. So we called it an early night and returned to our bunk beds.

In other news, life here is good. The new house is relaxing and we're getting used to it, lots of interesting, cheap restaurants nearby and a much more bohemian feel in the neighborhood. My Spanish is improving rapidly thanks to working at the bar and going on a few dates with a Peruvian who speaks 0 English. I've picked up more hours teaching English and still enjoy that, but I'm thinking about possibly going back to taking a Spanish course for some more practice since I have more outlets to use it now. Or picking up Portuguese. We shall see.

New Diggs

So Sunday Leah and I moved into our new shared house.  We previously lived in one of the nicer neighborhoods in the city, but it was more residential and had an older crowd than we wanted, so we moved to a younger neighborhood.  Unfortunately for us, the the previous tenant of the room Leah is moving into was a moron and kept the keys with them, so we have to share a room until they are fedexed to us.  Also unfortunately, there is only one key, but so far that hasn't been a problem.

The house is very cool.  There is a living room, thousands of bathrooms, and a huge basement kitchen.  I was just downstairs making coffee when I ran into a roommate.  We talked spanish for a minute, but he was talking waaaay too fast for me, so we switched to english.  He goes to BC and promised to teach me how to cook, so I'm already benifiting from this move.

We also had to say goodbye to our old landlords, which was a little scary.  I personally was terrified they were going to find something broken or wrong with the apartment, or at the very least realize Leah had stolen tuberware and I had taken an adaptor.  Thankfully, they noticed nothing and we got our deposit back.

I'm now off to study spanish and then go meet up with people at taco night.  Thats right, every Tuesday I go to the most American restaurant in the entire city and pay 1 dollar for tacos with the other US-food deprived ex-pats.  Hasta luego! 

3 more months!

Tuesday Leah and I had to go renew our tourist visa down at the immigration office. It was definitely one of the more insane mornings I've ever had. We got up around 8 am and took a bus over toward the general direction of the office, having no real idea where we are going besides our bus driver's vague gesture towards a cluster of buildings. We chose to enter a random blue building and entered a huge courtyard and proceeded to get halfway across it before 3 men in uniform chased us down. Apparently we were trying to enter the high security coast guard building. Oops.

We found the right building and wow, was it crowded. We forced our way through people and asked a woman handing out numbers what we needed for our visa. Money, passports, and copies of our passports, which we could make on the second floor. We headed that way and asked a security guard where the stairs were and he just laughed at us and told us we had to walk 6 blocks to the nearest kiosk because the copier was broken and probably never going to be fixed.

30 minutes later we were back and had our numbers, 25 and 26. At this point it's around 10:30 and the sign says you can't take numbers past 11, so we were glad we made it in good time. We waited about 45 minutes and Leah went first. The delightful woman behind the counter took one look at what Leah had and was like "NO, you need copy of when you ENTERED country, not your picture!" Holy crap. We made copies of the wrong thing because the sign and number lady weren't specific enough and now we were basically being called idiots because we didn't understand it. We left the building pretty pissed off, planning on returning the next day.

Leah was literally in a rage. We walked away from the building and were in the middle of the street when she stopped, screamed, "No way, I'm not coming back tomorrow, these bitches are dealing with us today!" and turned around, heading back towards the immigration building. Turns out we could take numbers until 2:30 because all we wanted were tourist visas. The sign didn't explain that because apparently that would just be too difficult to mention. We each got a number, 43 and 44, and I stayed in the office while Leah ran to get copies of when we ENTERED the country. I also feel it's important to mention that as Leah was leaving she was on a rampage and was shoving people out of her way, including some old man who's glasses she smashed into and made him drop. I was left to apologize to everyone as she was already out of the building.

So my number was 43, they were on 27, there was plenty of time. OR WAS THERE? Suddenly, the woman started calling numbers. 37, 38, 39, 40...no one was showing up. I panicked, because Leah wasn't back yet and she had our passports and the copies and we were NOT getting new numbers again. 41, 42, 43. By the time they called my number, I was frantically calling Leah, who told me to stall because she was almost there. 44, 45, 46...51. They got up to 51 before someone else finally had a ticket. I ran up to the woman before 51 and waved my numbers around and kept saying un momento un momento, and she just stared at me like I was deranged, which at this point I probably was. Finally I saw Leah running from the other side of this giant room and I just stood in front of the woman waving my ticket until Leah arrived. She finally understood, renewed our passports, and 30 minutes later we were out of there.

Amazing Video

Okay, I've watched this about 4 times and it keeps getting funnier each time.

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I told you to stay away from my magic frame!

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Sugar Sugar

You can now all consider yourselves friends/family/acquaintances/admirers of Leah Alexander: bartender and waitress extraordinaire. I know what you're thinking: is she qualified for this position? And in response to your reservations, I must pose a parallel question: was I qualified to teach English? No. But I can speak English, and have been successful. Therefore, by some kind of transitive property, I will be a successful bartender thanks to my ability to drink. Pretty sound logic if you ask me.

I started last week at Sugar Bar in Palermo and I'll be working Friday and Saturday nights from 9 pm til 6 or 7 am. This pretty much eliminates social options on the weekend, but it's nice to be making money instead of spending it. It is extremely painful and hurts my back and legs and feet like nothing I've ever done. The pay is minimal, but we all got bonuses today since it was apparently the best night we've ever had (I like to draw a correlation to me joining the team recently, but I somehow doubt that's the only factor). But the music is excellent, I get to dance and socialize all night, practice my Spanish, drink and eat for free, and hang out with my coworkers who are all awesome and fun.

I'm still teaching English during the week and enjoying that. It's difficult because the hours are so haphazard, it's always part-time so I never have a regular income. But we're moving next week to a shared house in a cheaper neighborhood, so that should benefit me.

La Bomba!

So last night I was invited to this event called La Bomba.  I had absolutely no idea what to expect and I was told you either love it or hate it.  Which meant I dragged my new friend Anna with me in case it was horrible.  First we went to my friend Nanu's house, because she has a dog and I had to get my dog fix for the day.  We show up wearing jeans and t shirts and the first thing Nanu says to me is, "you probably should have worn joggers," which I'm assuming meant sweatpants.  Then Nanu asks us if we would like shots of tequila. Mind you, it's about 6:30 on a Monday. We were a little unsure, but decided that if Nanu thinks we should have tequila, well why not.  After a couple of shots, we catch a bus and head to the club, with Nanu taking her shot to go.  Thats right, she put it in a plastic shot glass and drank it on the bus.

When we get there Nanu drags us toward a crowd of people who I recognize as couchsurfers I have met at previous events.  Everyone is hugging and giving the Argentine kiss, I just tell Anna to go with it.  Everyone is also drinking giant liter bottles of beer and before I know it, I've been handed one to share with Anna. After about ten minutes of mingling and pretending I know people, we are told to chug because it's time to go inside.

We entered this giant open space which reminded me of entering a football stadium.  There were concessions to buy beer and empenadas and then there was a giant entranceway into this room full of people jumping and dancing.  There was a huge stage with about 15 men dressed in red banging on drums and singing, with a crazy energetic man conducting them. Anna and I chose to buy beers then stand in the corner and watch everything for a little while.  I can compare the situation to a concert, because it was obvious a lot of people were on drugs, but these people had more room to move around in than a concert, so the dancing was amazing to watch.  Everyone was sweating and laughing and just having a great time.  We finished our beers and decided to join, though not nearly as over the top as some people.  Nanu grabbed us and dragged us to the middle of all the dancing, and for two hours we jumped around and apparently experienced the "good energy" of the place.

When La Bomba was finally over, EVERYONE was covered in sweat. Kind of disgusting, but it was cool to see people so unselfconscious about it. There was a La Bomba after party, but Anna and I chose to skip out on that until next time.  After all, it was only 10 pm on a Monday and I was just not prepared for all the insanity.  Next time I plan on takin pictures, because you have to see it to really believe it, but it is one of those cultural things I'm glad I was able to experience.

Wild parakeets!

So, Saturday Leah and I went to a huge park for a picnic with our friend Fatima.  It was a beautiful day and nice to be outside with friends AND the wild parakeets.  Leah and I must have seemed like crazy people, but it was so weird to feed bread to bright green birds that I have only seen in pet stores.  They were just so green.  We forgot cameras, but next time we go we plan on taking many pictures.  Fatima just laughed at us and told us we would have to visit her in Bolivia because she has monkeys in her backyard and she can't wait to see our reactions to those.

Saturday was also great because I got to meet a good friend of Katie Wenzler, one of my best friends.  Anna and Katie are friends from U of M and I've been corresponding with her for a while about her coming to BA.  She finally arrived and we hung out all night, met some of her American friends, and then went to bother Leah at her new job. Ah yes, for those who don't know, Leah got a job as a bartender/waitress on Friday and Saturday nights at a bar called Sugar.  Yes, she has left me to my own devices on the weekends, forcing me to go out and make new friends without her.  

Anyways, I'm off to some thing called la bomba (without leah dah) that apparently involves drums and dancing.  I have no idea what to expect but plan on reporting in full detail tomorrow, so hopefully that post will be far more exciting then this one.

COOKIES

I came to the very disturbing realization today that no one in Argentina has had proper cookies.

The lack of cookies in this country is not new to us; about a month in Kelly went crazed one weekend and practically salivated in front of the counter at Tea Connection, the extremely Americanized cafe nearby which is the only place known to sell cookies here. But whether it be lack of money or short attention span, we passed on those cookies, but the craving has been reinstated thanks to a sudden crush of holiday specials being shown on TV, from Full House to Family Guy. Why? I don't know. But a Lifetime holiday special starring Tate Donovan and Anne Heche seems like a good enough reason to celebrate an early Christmas with some Santa-shaped sugar cookies.

Today I started teaching a new student. Relevant update: I now teach through Wall Street Institute, where I sit for several hours in a row and have a new small group every hour, and through 2 other institutes that pimp (for lack of a better word) me out to their business clients, and those students I have more regularly and get paid twice as much for. We got to talking about holidays, as Argentines seem to take the first day of Spring as a legit vacation day, and we covered various other holidays and their traditions (New Years, oddly, is not about bubbly to them), and any such conversation with me naturally comes down to the food.

And this is where I realized that these people have lived their entire existence without cookies. Cookies to them are breakfast biscuits or, at best, oreos. They also have something called alfajores here, which are like extra floury cookies with dulce de leche in the middle. They are nothing compared to homemade batches of Christmas cookies and snickerdoodles. Peanut butter cookies were beyond their mental grasps.

If anyone has a good recipe for Christmas cookies that we could use, that would be awesome, as I promised many a porteño today that I would bring them some. Preferably ones with few ingredients. That I can eyeball the measurements for. Or are in metric.

For some reason I find this hysterical:

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MALBA and Suspicious Vans

Kelly and I made our second museum trip yesterday to MALBA, a major collection of modern Latin American art... not exactly our cup of tea, but we convinced the guy at the desk to let us in for free despite our lack of identification so all was not for naught, and we happened to run into Emma who we met at the potluck the night before. Across the street was pretty much the largest Carrefour (supermarket) I'd ever seen, with an extensive home goods and electronics selection. They had a tray out with Jim Beam samples and some champagne for tasting. The meat section, per Argentine standards, was extensive and included some kind of packaged rat tail but surprisingly no pig heads. Pictures will be posted later today/tomorrow.

At night we decided to go to another CS event, this one was at a bar/club called Uniclub or something along those lines. We went to our friend David's apartment first, which we had never been to before and were pleased to discover that it involved a zebra skin rug (again, pictures to come). Then we met up with some more characters from around the world and headed to the party. Downstairs, I thought I recognized Yoshi, who is a chef from Israel who I met at the potluck. I approached him and said, "Hey! You cooked the fish last night right? It was delicious." This man was perplexed. Yoshi he was not.

The real Yoshi, and Aussie Zara and Bolivian Fatima were upstairs. We had a grand old time dancing to "Love Shack" and our current favorite "I Don't Feel Like Dancing." Our friend drove us home in the most ghetto, run-down bright yellow VW van I have ever seen. It belongs on this website: Suspicious Vans.
Come back for pics.

CS Potluck

Yesterday I went with Leah to go shoe shopping on the main shopping street, Santa Fe. Unfortunately, this shopping expedition proved futile for myself when I learned that shoes in this country do not come in my size.  I attempted to squeeze my apparently gargantuan sized foot into the largest size the stores had, a 40, but it just wouldn't fit.  Leah found some really cute shoes though, so I suppose I will just have to live vicariously through her.

Last night we went to a couchsurfing potluck.  Each person was supposed to prepare a meal from their own country, or at least something they were really good at.  Leah chose to make a tortellini salad and I chose to watch her make it and help chop onion when necessary.  I did buy the wine though, so I feel that kind of counts for something.  

We got there and recognized a lot of people from the previous Saturday.  Everyone was incredibly friendly and welcoming once again, especially when I pulled out the bottle of wine. Glasses were running out, so Leah made the genuis decision of using a yogurt cup as a wine glass.  Everyone was preparing their dishes and chatting, there was at least 15 different things to eat.  Finally everyone brought their food out and set it on the floor.  There was fish, meatball sandwiches, greek yogurt, spicy thai curry, tacos, the list goes on and on.  The dessert was even better.  A giant flan and a giant chocolate cake that was probably one of the greatest things I have ever eaten.  Leah and I were still discussing it today, which I know is both pathetic and a little embarrassing.

After the amazing dinner, everyone just sat around and talked.  It was a lot of fun and I was only mildly embarrassed when one person told me that I really opened up once I had some wine in me.  We all know it's true, so I've embraced this fact and moved on.  We left at around 12 30, too full and exhausted to continue on with the party.

We've been invited to some private birthday party held a huge club tonight, which we plan on attending.  The best part is that their are numerous fake names on the list for us to use so we can get in.  The only issue with this is that they are all Argentine names, so unless I can suddenly speak spanish and Leah can darken her hair and eyes, we might have a slight problem pulling it off...

Our First Couch Surfing Meeting

Contrary to what you may believe in regards to how Cousin Kelly and I spend our time in Buenos Aires due to the narrow perspective provided by this here blog (because we can't really help that alcohol really spices up our lives), we are occasionally spotted leaving the house in the daylight hours. Why just this Saturday we attended our first Couch Surfing event, that started at 4 but we showed up fashionably late at 4:30 and were still the first ones there. Nanu, the hostess, was really friendly and we sat around and talked until the apartment was full with about 30 people, at which point we broke up and played various board games.

We fell into the kitchen table kids who play taboo group, only taboo in this case was in Spanish, which is challenging for so many reasons you couldn't possibly grasp until you're staring at a card that says 'microbe' and you can't say disease, infection, germ, bacteria, and several other Spanish words whose meanings you can't derive, therefore eliminating just about everything you could've possibly said. Also, Taboo is no where near as awesome with no buzzer control. But we improved our vocabulary while charming the locals with our sarcastic wits.

This went on for 8 hours and we met and air kissed a ridiculous amount of people. We walked home at midnight and, though exhausted from so much human contact, needed to rehash the night over a glass of wine. I decided it was high time for Kelly to try Indian food, so we stopped into the Indian restaurant we've wanted to try and debriefed.

Oh, the people we meet

I would just like to say, that right now in Argentina, it's starting to get warm, and it's kind of weirding me out. After all, it's fall in the US and I'm expecting to see the leaves turning, feel the air getting colder and did I mention that fall is my favorite season and I'm a little sad I'm missing it? I'm especially nostalgic for a pumpkin spice latte from starbucks, or actually, pumpkin spice anything, but Leah promised we could make pumpkin pancakes, so hopefully that will help.

Anyways, sorry for that little bit of whining, I'm in fabulous Buenos Aires, and don't really miss anything in the US yet. Except maybe Dr. Pepper. SO Friday Leah and I planned on getting up early to go and apply for our CUIT/tax numbers, but when we woke up we decided that we had a better chance if we applied on a Monday instead of a Friday. We figured that the person who decided whether to accept or deny our applications would be a lot more generous at the beginning of a new week than the end of a long one.

With that decision made, we went back to bed and woke up several hours later, much more prepared for the day. We each did our own thing, Leah made some lentil type meal for dinner, then we headed out. We decided the we needed the familiar comforts of the Alamo after our crazy Thursday night, but little did we realize it would be just as crazy as the night before.

It started out calmly enough, the bouncers recognizing us and letting us in. We got beers, we chilled, Leah got harassed by some Colombian that I couldn't bother being civil to, so I went and got us seats at the bar. Fortunately for me, Leah sat on the outside and was more prone to being harassed by weirdos, and believe me, she was.

First there was the crazy Argentine man in sunglasses who came running up and pounded his fist in front of her and started shouting at her. I don't really recall what he was saying, something about TEACHING ENGLISH (fist pound) and GETTING HIS TEACHING CERTIFICATE (fist pound) and WANTING TO GO HOME TO TOUCH HIMSELF(fist pound + maniacal laughter). I was laughing so hard by that time I was of no help. The two guys next to me told me I should help her, but I honestly had no idea what to do. I mean, he was clearly drunk and coked out. Then I made eye contact with an older man (way older) standing behind them and he saved the day by distracting the crazy guy.

Unfortunately, the old man thought he could come and talk to us after he got rid of crazy. I was fine with it until I told him I was from Ann Arbor and he called me a rich bitch, which I really did not appreciate. I turned to the guys next to me and started talking to them, but unfortunately, Leah got stuck talking to the old guy who turned out to be a severely racist and an asshole. Once again, the guys next to me told me to save her, I kept trying to include her in conversations, but the bar was loud and it was impossible. Finally the old guy got the hint and left. We talked to the two Argentine guys a bit longer, but they were a little weird. The only memorable thing about one of them was his hair was FANTASTIC, but he knew it, which was not so fantastic. It was comparable to Mr. Bingley's (see right), that red haired guy in the Pride and Prejudice movie, except even taller. I wish I had gotten a picture.

Finally, we were left alone for a while, then Leah got to chatting in Spanish with a guy and I was glued to ESPN, watching the awesome football commercials, especially the one about the USC/OSU game the next day. Man I miss football. Then I started talking to a guy who turned out to be American which was GREAT because I was sick of trying to speak spanish and it was nice to just talk football with someone.

Leah and I left at bartime, agreeing once again that bars are really only good for single serving friends and no way to meet real people. Fortunately for us, we had a couchsurfing event the next day, which I'll let Leah tell you about since couchsurfing is her baby and I'm just along for the ride.

Champagne

As Kelly's birthday weekend of celebration develops, we miss more and more of the daylight hours to sleep.

On Wednesday, after the tragic film that is Wanted, we indulged in champagne and went to The Red Door, an unmarked bar in San Telmo where we discovered the delightful homemade pretzels and hummus they serve. Appropriately, Kelly made friends with the bartenders while I chatted with some artsy weirdos. We then went to Museum, per Wednesday night tradition, and had a grand old time and devouring the 2 kilos of ice cream I gifted Kelly then ate myself.

Thursday night we returned to B52, the restaurant Megan introduced us to on our very first night in Argentina. It was quite as delicious as we had remembered, though the menu had changed. They have their own reserves of Malbec, which is delicious, and the decor was reminiscent of being inside a wine bottle to me - green lights tinted the windows and dark wood and a spiral staircase reminded us of an old professor's library. Plus, you get amazing free champagne whenever you go, and we got extra by announcing Kelly's birthday, which is obviously a ploy we will continue at many new restaurants.

We followed dinner expecting quiet drinks at a bar in Plaza Serrano and an early night, but the swarms of people wanting to twirl us on the dance floor forbid it. Seriously, what is with the dancing here? I can't keep up. And yet at one point Kelly was being chased by the owner with promises of free champagne (and he didn't even know it was her birthday...) while I led the conga line for a lap around the floor.

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!

Today is my birthday, Leah took me to see a movie to kill some time and the only one worth seeing was Wanted.  I say worth seeing because I didn't realize how TERRIBLE it was.  Plenty of action, little plot, more of a wait for the dvd sort of film.  We are about to go out tonight having killed bottle of cheap champagne between us.  I just have one memorable quote from my father via ichat to post:

Keith Stone: I can't tell if you guys are dumb and dumber or wild and wilder

Leah: Well, I'm pretty sure we know which one is the "er" in both scenerios

Obviously she was talking about me, but I've looked past the insult and seen the humor. Anyways, we are off, thanks for reading!

Hey guys, thought I would check in so people know we are still alive.  Today Leah and I began the process of getting our CUIT, which is like a tax number so we can actually be semi-legitimate and find jobs.  This is more for me, by the way, since Leah is already a productive member of society and gives back to the community, whereas I only help the economy by going to the bars.  We had to go to the police station today, where the cops there were surprisingly helpful and friendly. They need to stop by our place tomorrow or Wednesday to make sure we have a legitimate address.  They could be coming at any hour, so I hope I hear the buzzer.  

Apparently that's the easy part, because once we get a certificate from the police, we have to go wait in line for several hours and fill out all these forms, blah blah blah.  I probably would have given up on this long ago, but thankfully Leah has a different mentality than I and is making me go through with all of this.

Um, Saturday night was really fun.  We made new friends at this bar Gibralter.  Some I hope to never see again, including some scary man who told me I should be an actress because I have very expressive eyes.  I tried to express I was going to hit him if he didn't leave me alone, but he didn't get the hint.  Fortunately Leah did and we escaped to another section of the bar where we met a cool guy who took us to our FIRST HIP HOP CLUB!  It was a little intense, with the metal detectors and being patted down for weapons, but they did play 50 cent, Snoop, and even that Tipsy song I loved when I was 18, so I would consider going back.

Other then that, we've become obsessed with couchsurfers.com.  We want to go to Uraguay this weekend or the next, and hope to crash on some complete stranger's couch and have them show us the town. Preferably a rich, good looking stranger, but we could easily settle for some hot guy with a futon.  Hopefully I've sufficiently freaked my parents out with that last comment, hasta luego!

Tropic Thunder

Leah and I just went to see Tropic Thunder.  It was great, Robert Downey Jr was brilliant, we laughed, good times.  It was also a very awkward experience. Comedic films really do not translate.  We would laugh hysterically at subtle jokes and we would be the only ones laughing. Apparently the line, "my urine smells like bologna and I don't know why" is not funny to the Argentine community, but I thought it was amazing and Leah and I were the only ones laughing.

Ironically, before the film there was a trailer for Superhero Movie and the crowd thought that that piece of crap was the funniest thing ever, even though it is obviously one of the stupidest movies of all time.  So yeah, thats my bit on cultural differences for the day, we're off to check out the bar scene.

you know how i know you're a lush?

Today started with a job interview for another English institute, PLS (Professional Language Services). I went in not expecting to get it as it's more serious and for businesspeople, but they basically just asked me when my available hours were and signed me up immediately. So that starts next week and I'm pretty clueless as to what it entails.

Kelly then met me for lunch at California Burrito Company on Lavalle, close to the Wall Street Institute where I work. It was like Chipotle, which was awesome, and although the tortilla wraps were not up to par, the guacamole and real tortilla chips made up for it. Kelly managed to make a fool of herself in front of all the clientele by tripping not once, but twice on her way out, with the second time nearly taking out the corrugated metal siding of the food counter.

I then worked for 6 hours and had some of my favorite students, which always puts me in a good mood. When I went to leave and said goodbye, my coworker Norberto said, "Ah, The Alamo is calling you." I asked him to repeat this, because my honest-to-God first thought was... "How does the Alamo know I'm at work?" I not-too-quickly realized that this was not literal; that, in fact, my favorite bar does not keep tabs on me and try to contact me when they haven't seen me in a week to check on my state of wellness. Norberto meant the Alamo is beckoning to me. And that is how I know it's time for a break from the Alamo.

silly americans

Yesterday we wanted helado, so we went into a store we had never been in before. There were at least 30 different flavors and only half of them were labeled, so being our obnoxious selves, we decided we had to try ALL of them to figure out what they were. We avoided the ones that had old, withered looking marachino cherries in them. At first the guy behind the counter (sporting an amazing jheri curl mullet) humored us, and eventually he took it upon himself to select the flavors which we should try next, deriving great entertainment from our reactions.

Not to be left out, his coworker wanted to introduce us to a curious pale yellow ice cream that was mostly untouched in the front of the store. When we asked what flavor it was, the man refused to tell us and just handed us a sample. Jheri-Curl tried to warn us with exaggerated gesticulation. Leah tried it first, made a horrible face and said, "EWWW." Kelly was intrigued, since this was the first ice cream Leah had ever tried and not likee. Kelly tasted it and immediately wanted to spit it out. It was wine flavored ice cream. Not a good expensive wine flavor, but a boxed, 6 days old, severe hangover the next day, franzia type of flavor. Then Kelly finished it when no one was looking so it wouldn't drip on her and tried not to throw up.

All the men behind the counter were laughing at us, which was especially strange because their uniforms consisted of ridiculous red bowties and white shirts with pink lettering all over them, so who were they to laugh at us?! Anyways, we gave our order to the guy, and once he got our cones he added one of the disgusting marichino cherries to the top of each one, as an extra little treat. It would have been rude to ignore this gesture, so as he watched we both ate the cherries. Let's just say the rest of the ice cream was glorious in comparison.

touring the city

This weekend, we finally took a tour of the city. Granted, it was at 8 am on Sunday after a long night out, but it counts.

We finally met up with Juan, Tammy's Argentine friend who went abroad for a semester to Illinois, and he gallantly showed us a night on the town. We started out at a bar in Palermo at 12:30 or so, then worked our way into Shampoo, which is CLEARLY the kind of club that only permits really ugly girls because Kelly and I couldn't get in for a while (I think it was Kelly's windbreaker that really did it). But when we left the club we were hungry, so we went out for empanadas and tostadas while the sun rose. Taking advantage of the bright and uncrowded streets we drove around town and were literally shocked by the city that we hadn't seen. It was quite the pleasant surprise... we saw Boca stadium, the port, lots of buildings, some stray dogs, and Kelly was stared down by a bus driver on the early morning shift. We got home at 9, turning our made-up faces in embarrassment, pretending we somehow didn't notice Walter, our doorman, washing the sidewalk. I think the fact that we tried to hide is going to make it more awkward in the long run.

In other news, I've been teaching many hours of English and I love it. The only downside is that I speak English all day, so my Spanish is not exactly in top shape. I have different students every hour and every day, so I never really see them with consistency, but it's finally getting to the point where I've had enough repeats to see their progress and, more importantly, pick favorites.

Correction

Here is what actually happened Wednesday night upon leaving Museum:

Kelly has a habit of asking people what their favorite Parrilla is in the city as a way of breaking the ice with those who don't speak English. So I asked this to Jorge (not George) our cab driver, and he interpreted it as us wanting to go to a Parrilla right then. I said no, we didn't want to pay for the cab ride and such, he turned off the meter and said it's fine, you can come as my guests, I was going any way and I'm inviting you. So we drove to Belgrano. The place was called Lo de Charly and it was half-filled with men who just finished night shifts and a swarm of off-duty police officers.

The food came and Kelly just stared at it, so I kept yelling at her, "Just don't ask," but it was incredibly delicious (except for the aforementioned squiggly intestine-type swirl). When we were too full to go on, Kelly made to leave, but I informed her that the meat was yet to come. Which came with a delicious salsa criolla, so we forced it down. The whole time we made small talk in Spanish and the wait staff just stared at us, obviously confused by our presence.

He then drove us home and refused our money, so we threw 20 pesos at him and went home with our leftovers. Which Kelly ate at 6 am today upon our return from Amerika, the gay club.

cow intestines anyone?

Last night was a little different than our usual Wednesday. It started out normal, with Cousin Leah and I heading to the Alamo for some drinks. We got there a little later than usual because I was deeply involved in Fast and Furious 3: Tokyo Drift, but Leah managed to drag me away from the TV. We were in the downstairs bar and noticed a girl wearing a Mets T shirt, so we got to talking. She was with a few others and I think they were there for some summer teaching program, but they were pretty drunk and hard to understand. It turned out it was one of the girl's birthdays so we decided to take them under our wing and drag them to Museum.

We got there, lots of dancing, lots of fun. When they played Usher's Yeah, lets just say we went a little nuts. It was after we left the club that things got a little weird.

I'm going to interrupt this posting and just say that as I type this Leah is cutting her bangs in the bathroom and just said, "whoa, bold move Leah." I really hope it turns out okay, cause I don't feel like doing damage control.

ANYWAYS, we get in the cab and I look towards the front seat and there is A TV ON THE DASHBOARD! The cabdriver, George, turns it on and we begin watching Transformers (in spanish of course). George noticed how into it I was and pulled over to let me sit in the front to watch it closer. He and Leah began talking and I had no idea what was going on when all of a sudden, George turns off the meter. I look around and we are heading in the opposite direction of our apartment. Leah seemed perfectly fine with it, so I just continued watching the movie until we pulled over in front of a restaurant.

Apparently, Leah had asked George where the best Parrilla food was and he had thought she meant right then, at 3 am. I guess he took it upon himself to take us to this very Argentine restaurant and feed us. We sit down, he orders for us, I have no idea whats going on. When the waiter brings food, its this delicous salad of eggs and potatoes with olive oil and lots of salt. George mixes it together and scoops it all onto or plates, grabs hunks of bread and hands them to us, and tells us to eat. Best A bar food ever, let me tell you.

But then the next course comes out and I don't even think about what I'm eating. It's all different types of meat, some really chewy, some really delicious. I've tried everything and I look over at Leah and she's eaten most of hers, except this weird curly cue meat. I asked her why and she was like, "Kelly, do you realize what all of this meat is?" Then it hit me. I was eating all the disgusting insides of the cow and didn't notice cause I was too drunk! She was laughing at me and was like, "yeah, I don't know what any of this is, but just eat it. I think your favorite one was the kidney." We started guessing what each meat was, and came to the conclusion the weird curly one was probably intestines and should be avoided. Unfortunately, that didn't stop George from trying to put the rest on our plates.

Now, I am stuffed at this point and cannot keep eating and its getting close to 4:30. I thought it was time to go, but little did I realize that we still had the whole rest of the cow to eat! Leah was like, "Kelly, we just ate the insides, now it's time for the outside." I thought she was joking until the waiter brought out this platter of steaks. I just started laughing hysterically, because it was SO MUCH FOOD. George kept scooping more of the potato salad onto our plates and telling us to eat, but I was sooo done with it.

Finally, we left the place and started driving home, watching Transformers all the way. I think Leah was passing out in the back, but I was into the movie so I stayed awake and talked to George. He kept shouting, "Megatron!" and "Optimus Prime" at me, which was really the only "spanish" I could handle at that point. I think he even said, "Megan Fox, muy sexy!" It was hilarious. He dropped us off around 5 am and insisted we didn't pay him for the cab ride because he had enjoyed our company and gave us his card in case we ever wanted him as our cab driver again, which we obviously do.

We are SO cool

So this is a conversation Leah and I had at the bar Saturday night. We'd had a pretty long week, going to clubs since Wednesday, and we decided we just wanted to chill and have a beer somewhere. The Olympics were on the TV and it was some sort of gymnastics/dancing with jump ropes thing. From there we got on the subject of Michael Phelps.

Me: He just doesn't really do it for me.
Leah: No, me neither.
Me: But that whole 10,000 calorie a day thing is pretty awesome. I can only imagine what he eats.
Leah: Do you think he can have empty calorie stuff, like Doritos?
Me: Nah, I bet he has to eat like, 20 eggs, really boring healthy stuff.
Leah: When I was a lad I'd eat 4 dozen eggs, every morning to help me get large. And now that I've grown I eat 5 dozen eggs, so I'm roughly the size of a BAAAAARGE!
Me: That's it! Michael Phelps is on the Gaston diet!
Leah: I wish I could be on the Gaston diet. I don't know why more people aren't on it. It clearly worked for him.
Me: I always thought Gaston was kind of a stud, ya know, in a Disney way.
Leah: Yeah but I can't get the visual of his smelly feet when he goes to propose to Belle out of my head.
Me: I know, but still, Belle should have given him a chance. He was the best guy in that village. I think she was being a little closed-minded about the whole "waiting for her perfect storybook prince." You really didn't like Gaston?
Leah: Oh no, I was all about the Beast.
Me: Yeah, I guess he was cute after he transformed.
Leah: No, no, no. I thought he was much sexier when he WAS the Beast.
Me: AHAHAHAHA that does not surprise me at all.

This discussion went on for several more minutes. We have talks like this all the time. People must think we are CRAZY

Argentina gets the gold!

So our lease is about halfway up and our gym membership is about to run out (we'll see if that gets renewed...) and we still haven't even seen the Casa Rosada or Evita's grave. Which, to be honest, is not for lack of mobility but rather for lack of effort, as we have been to the cemetery twice but still haven't seen the tomb of it's most famous inhabitant. We did however complete our first tourist activity this week with a trip to the Museo Nacional de Arte Decorativo, which is probably the smallest museum in the city and the closest to our apartment and free on the day we went, but at least it's something. They were having a Rodin exhibit so I'd say it was 45 minutes well spent.

Pictures from the day out:


Last night we wanted a night on the town, and we decided trying a new bar was in order. We accidentally found some kind of local dive and had a couple of beers while we watched the soccer game (Argentina vs. Nigeria). At 3ish we left to go to Pachá, as has become the trend of our Fridays, as the music is much more Americanized (and danceable) compared to the electronica of Saturdays. We showed up expecting the typical unbearably crowded dance floor, and it was just as crowded as we expected except everyone was sitting. The screens around the room were all broadcasting the game. There was no music or dancing. Just sitting quietly on the white pleather benches the management had strewn about the dancefloor...it was very surreal. But we waited out the game with some more beer and then joined the celebration of Argentine glory by dancing to such hits as Scissor Sisters' "I Don't Feel like Dancing." And we ran into one of those rugby players...I swear, they are as omnipresent in this city as the dog crap that covers the sidewalks.

We came home at 6 starving, so we hit up McDonald's. They were out of hamburgers to our chagrin, as well as to that of the 30 or so teenage boys swarming the counter. So we devoured 2 large fries, then went around the corner and got empanadas which magically came with pieces of onion pizza-bread that I can't really describe but which was exactly what we wanted. Success.

Greatest Clip Ever

Dayman / Nightman

I get this stuck in my head AT LEAST 4 times a day.  I can say with full certainty that it is, in fact, the greatest thing ever.  Those who have also seen it should agree with me.  ENJOY

Accidental Pool Party

So we were invited to a house party by Time, one of our language school friends, in Palermo Soho. The house/apartment was amazing - all open air with lofts and a fire pole, very spacious and comfortable. But right when you walk in, their is a pool with colored lights in the middle of the floor. About 1.5 x 3 meters. Which was terrifying, because the floor was slippery enough, especially in heels. So we carefully avoided the pool all night by any means possible.

It was a cheese party. Mostly vodka and cheese. We socialized and lamented the absence of drinking games. Hours into the party, a couple Argentine girls showed up. And one walked straight into the pool. She just fell. Like a pencil jump into a 4 foot deep pool. And the whole party, maybe 30 people or so... turned and stared in silenced awe. I mean there was just nothing that could be said. We left soon after... all entertainment was bound to be a disappointment from there.

Our First Haircut

Today Cousin Leah and I decided to get our haircut at a place down the street.  This is a big step for me, because I live in constant fear of Argentine hairstyles.  We got there, filled out forms, and Cousin Leah was whisked away instantly, leaving me to wonder how to politely tell whoever cut my hair I don't want a mullet.

So some woman comes up to me and starting jabbering away at me in spanish. I tried to understand what she was saying, but I ended up just staring at her, so she probably thought I was mildly retarded.  We went near Leah and I had her explain to the lady I just wanted it cut with some layers, blah blah blah.  She was halfway through drying my hair when I mildly started to panic.  The layers were looking very spread out, very mullet like.  Then I realized it was the way she was curling and drying it, not the way it was cut.  That made me laugh and by the time she was done, WOW, it looked hilarious.

When I was finished, Leah was only getting her hair washed, so I went home.  Ten minutes later, Leah comes barging through the door screaming, "OH MY GOD!!!!!"  Apparently, she hadn't even waited to get her hair dried, she had just come running home.  I had no idea what the problem was until she turned around.  Holy mullet, funniest thing I have ever seen.  The bottom of her hair ended in a point about 4 inches lower than the last layer.  After I stopped laughing at her, we went into the bathroom and proceeded to cut the bottom 2 inches off of her hair, hopefully fixing the issue.  

Personally, I think she should have rocked the hairstyle a few days before fixing it, just to see what it was like.

No longer a vagrant, I am employed!

After 2 weeks of wearing out the 'refresh' button on craigslist job postings, success at last! I received two job offers and I had to decide on the same day and I was really torn (as those of you who I spoke to can attest to, and thanks for all your advice!) because they were pretty equal jobs in terms of the pay, which is shit (we're talking 4-5 USD/hour).

My strategy in applying for jobs was to apply to anything that said you needed to speak English. From there it was pretty easy - go on a few interviews, send some emails, done. Really not to hard to get a job here (am I speaking too soon? Let's see how cousin Kelly fares next week in her job search). Job 1 was with a company selling software to Catholic churches (an area I'm not too familiar with)...basically I would be working to call up the churches and inform them about the software and work with a small group of Americans. Job 2 was at Wall Street Institute teaching English. This institute is somewhat infamous for its low pay, but it would get me a more 'legal' working status which would make it easier for me to find jobs in other fields (read: bartending) later on. Or just at a better paying language school. Basically this legal status means I will get a tax number and a book of invoices and the school will be paying me for my services. Which sounds like I'm a call girl (don't worry Linda, it won't come to that).

So I went with option 2. I had training today, which meant me and a hilarious London girl used their software and took remedial English lessons, which were actually quite racy. We particularly enjoyed the story of Alice who meets an Italian in NYC and stays with him in a hotel then makes him pancakes in the morning. I actually teach a class tomorrow. I am in no way qualified for this, so we'll see how it goes.

Grillz

THIS is why we miss NBC Olympic coverage.

The bad part about Argentina

So Kelly and I have obviously been enjoying our time here, and thought there are negatives, they are nominal. Until this weekend when the Olympics kicked off and we were left stranded in the Southwestern Hemisphere with all events being showed only LIVE and mostly on a premium channel that we don't get. Being the greatest fan of the Olympics of anyone I know, this is devastating.

In hopes of cheering ourselves up and getting the spirit, we watched Miracle, which was awesome overall, but at the point that they played the Olympic Fanfare our hearts were filled with the sorrow and angst that comes from withdrawal from the NBC coverage we have taken for granted. Yes, we have heard about the events of last night, and no, we did not see them. And so, I beg you all to enjoy the Olympics for my sake and to not rub it in my face how these are the best Olympics ever.

Also, we've been finding this clip hysterical (if maybe a bit offensive?):

Long Week

Hey, it's been a pretty crazy week for me. Spanish classes have been really intense and I'm beginning to actually speak it in the real world. It's been pretty tough waking up at 8 am everyday while Cousin Leah gets to keep sleeping in (she's not taking classes anymore), but hopefully it will pay off.

We decided to go to our usual spot on Wednesday, the Alamo. We chilled in the downstairs bar for a while and ate dinner with our free beer. It was kind of a weird, older crowd so we went to the upstairs bar to visit our bartender buddy Joe. Once he saw us he was like, "well look who it is, surprise, surprise." He obviously loves us.

We sat down at a table to chill and were instantly bombarded by a group of guys claiming they really needed to practice their english and could they talk with us. There were literally 15 of them and it turned out they were rugby players for some athletic club. They eventually convinced us to go to a club with them because they could get us in for free and it would be SO SO FUN. We were actually planning on heading to that club later, so we just went with them, teaching them all sorts of North American slang along the way. We met up with the rest of the team, which had to be at least another 20 guys. All of them were sporting the Jonas Brother type haircuts, so by the end of the night, they all started looking the same. Lots of dancing, lots of fun, we left when I realized I had to be at class in 6 hours.

Thursday was pretty chill, and Friday was one of the more hilarious evenings I've had since I've been here. Leah and I planned on going out with our friend Jo, and english woman we met during spanish school. We planned to meet at the Alamo (obviously), but when we arrived, the bar was closed and taped off with signs saying the Argentine police had shut the bar down. We were, and still are, devastated. Where am I going to watch my Tiger baseball? or the Olympics? or FOOTBALL!?!?! Thankfully our friend Peter knows the owner and informs us its the corrupt laws of Argentina that have shut the place down. I guess the "gringo" owners of the Alamo won't submit to the corruption so they get punished by the police and health inspectors or something. Whatever, I just want the place open again.

Anyways, we decided to go to a cafe, have some dinner, drink some wine, and figure out the rest of our evening. Jo had been kind of seeing this Brazilian guy, so she invited him and his friend to drink with us. She warned Leah and I that they were almost too good looking, so we were a little apprehensive to meet these people. It was a little weird at first when they sat down and introduced themselves, but then one of them, Lucas, turns to Leah and I and says, "listen, I just want you to know that I am REALLY high right now." It was so unexpected and hilarious that everything was fine after that.

We left the Brazilians because they had an early exam and went to a club. Danced for a while, ran into some of the rugby guys, and headed home pretty late. We were invited to a rugby party tonight, but who knows if we will end up there. Sandra Stone did warn us that rugby players were nothing but trouble, so we might just have to make an appearance.


Jo and the Brazilians, Flavio and Lucas: