Darn, I totally meant to blog yesterday. I was having a day full of pensiveness on the prevalence and permanence of mortality...and didn't make it a priority to blog. Oh well. Next time I am so inspired, I shall endeavor to share my thoughts.
Best part of yesterday: walking into two completely different stores on two separate occasions just in time to hear my favorite Venezuelan man singing my favorite Spanish song. :)
Worst part of yesterday: staying up too late. Enough said.
Best part of today: being ready for the Migraciones interview tomorrow, with all of the documents--finally! After this I may begin working soon.
Worst part of today: realizing how I cannot handle over two weeks without a gym. It's killing me slowly.
_________________________________
More good things that have happened lately: call with boyfriend last night, TWO functional (as in, no longer losing water out the faucets) sinks, clean apartment, wifi connection continues to work without any issues, safe ride home from Bajo Flores last night to my apartment after sunset. :)
Today I slept in, as a result of said late night, and then dawdled around for breakfast and more playing of the guitar.
Before long, it was two in the afternoon, and time to leave for Ingeniero Butty, the street on which Globant's office building resides. I got the last two necessary documents, and headed to Florida to spend some time browsing shops. I found the perfumey thing I had been wanting, and saw a street performer dressed (spitting image) as Captain Jack Sparrow. I still do not understand the store Falabella, by the way. It's like four or five floors of nothing I would ever need. Thoroughly confused by this...
Then I came back home, had some snacks, washed some clothes, and talked to some friends on facebook. Cannot wait for a daily routine that gives me people to talk to face to face so I can remove myself from a permanent state of being "online".
Today was really quite droll, I have to say. Tomorrow will make up for it, I hope. The meeting with Migraciones is in the morning, then in the afternoon (at about five) I'm going into one of the villas again to help with the music class, and then hanging out with friends tomorrow night. They may be coming to hang out at my apartment--how cool and grown-up is that. :)
So, here's to a better tomorrow. It's almost Friday, everyone! Whooopee! (:
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
I Have Skype Now: Day 14
Best part of the day: Getting an anticipated email update from a best friend, and other social networking communications. I love that technology is totally on my side here, permitting me to stay in touch with whosoever I desire.
Worst part of the day: Not making it to the cemetery here in Recoleta today. Why didn't I? Isn't it funny how with empty, agenda-less days it is so much harder to get anything done? I feel as though I already resign myself to underachieving when I awake past ten in the morning, and don't have set goals for the day. New goal: set more goals. :)
_________________________
I had the opportunity to sleep in today, which was very nice and much needed. Then I made breakfast, where I am working on remembering how long I like my boiled eggs cooked for; is it seven minutes after the water boils, or including boiling time? Do I keep the eggs in the water from the very start? Then there's the whole issue of moving the poor devils directly from fridge to boiling water, then they crack, then the water's all goopey... anyway. Not what you came to this site to read tonight. :)
After breakfeast, I began playing my guitar again. I think my fingers are callusing nicely. Guitar is a nice activity for many reasons, and one of them is the possibility of facebook chatting in between songs or verses. So I keep from being lonely between the two activities.
Then, all of a sudden, I had a realization while I was playing.
I am VERY done with what I'll call merely "subsistence cooking". Subsistence cooking: making a mix-n-match "meal" out of the fridge/pantry contents and expecting it to work long-term. SO, in efforts against enabling this laziness any longer, I hopped on epicurious.com to find some recipes, or at least ideas for possible food combinations. I picked a dish to make each day for this week and next, and a shopping list that goes along with them. Today's masterpiece was a garbanzo bean (aka chickpea) salad, with parsley, garlic, lemon juice, and olive oil. I made rice to go with it, for I felt it was not substantial enough on its own. It was scrumptious! And more importantly, it tasted of success. Of taking a step towards managing things better. Of making the decision to grab this bull by the horns, and completely learn how to live independently. And of lemons whose equal I have never tasted.
Also, it continues to be a hige bonus that while the rice, pasta, meats that I don't buy/eat, and other meal ingredients cost the same or more as in the States, the best part--the fresh fruit and veg--remains cheap.
Before I made dinner, however, I had gone for a walk around town. I was tired of the apartment, and went to see if I could find a gym at which to get a membership, or maybe a cafe to scope out some afternoon. I found several of both. Now I just have to eenie-meenie-miney-moe it. That can be done.
After dinner, I was able to SKYPE my family. Huzzah! This has been our struggle, because the BlackBerry tablet that I have with me does not exactly support (software-wise) the Skype. It is the most common app used by friends and family of mine, though, so I was missing out. Now I am capable--woohoo! So, skype me. All you skypers. Yeah.
I played my sister and dad songs on the guitar I've been learning. It was fun just to share that with them. And now, I'm at bedtime. Nothing tomorrow, again, so I think it's time to visit the cemetery, and maybe see if the roses have bloomed in the Palermo rose garden. Goals. :)
Worst part of the day: Not making it to the cemetery here in Recoleta today. Why didn't I? Isn't it funny how with empty, agenda-less days it is so much harder to get anything done? I feel as though I already resign myself to underachieving when I awake past ten in the morning, and don't have set goals for the day. New goal: set more goals. :)
_________________________
I had the opportunity to sleep in today, which was very nice and much needed. Then I made breakfast, where I am working on remembering how long I like my boiled eggs cooked for; is it seven minutes after the water boils, or including boiling time? Do I keep the eggs in the water from the very start? Then there's the whole issue of moving the poor devils directly from fridge to boiling water, then they crack, then the water's all goopey... anyway. Not what you came to this site to read tonight. :)
After breakfeast, I began playing my guitar again. I think my fingers are callusing nicely. Guitar is a nice activity for many reasons, and one of them is the possibility of facebook chatting in between songs or verses. So I keep from being lonely between the two activities.
Then, all of a sudden, I had a realization while I was playing.
I am VERY done with what I'll call merely "subsistence cooking". Subsistence cooking: making a mix-n-match "meal" out of the fridge/pantry contents and expecting it to work long-term. SO, in efforts against enabling this laziness any longer, I hopped on epicurious.com to find some recipes, or at least ideas for possible food combinations. I picked a dish to make each day for this week and next, and a shopping list that goes along with them. Today's masterpiece was a garbanzo bean (aka chickpea) salad, with parsley, garlic, lemon juice, and olive oil. I made rice to go with it, for I felt it was not substantial enough on its own. It was scrumptious! And more importantly, it tasted of success. Of taking a step towards managing things better. Of making the decision to grab this bull by the horns, and completely learn how to live independently. And of lemons whose equal I have never tasted.
Also, it continues to be a hige bonus that while the rice, pasta, meats that I don't buy/eat, and other meal ingredients cost the same or more as in the States, the best part--the fresh fruit and veg--remains cheap.
Before I made dinner, however, I had gone for a walk around town. I was tired of the apartment, and went to see if I could find a gym at which to get a membership, or maybe a cafe to scope out some afternoon. I found several of both. Now I just have to eenie-meenie-miney-moe it. That can be done.
After dinner, I was able to SKYPE my family. Huzzah! This has been our struggle, because the BlackBerry tablet that I have with me does not exactly support (software-wise) the Skype. It is the most common app used by friends and family of mine, though, so I was missing out. Now I am capable--woohoo! So, skype me. All you skypers. Yeah.
I played my sister and dad songs on the guitar I've been learning. It was fun just to share that with them. And now, I'm at bedtime. Nothing tomorrow, again, so I think it's time to visit the cemetery, and maybe see if the roses have bloomed in the Palermo rose garden. Goals. :)
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sweet Breads, Music, and Friends: Day 13
Best part of the day: My new friend F.
Tonight I hung out with F, one of the congregation at La Mision; one of the youth to whom the Zs minister. We walked around Recoleta, had ice cream, and then played some guitar and shared favorite musicians, bands, songs. His English is impeccable. His smile is stellarly friendly. And he's Colombian, from Bogota, so we had much to talk about!
Worst part of the day: Waiting at the doctor's office for my pre-occupational examination.
This morning, really early, I had to go to ESMINSA to get a checkup that is (in Argentina) mandatory before obtaining a job. They really don't mess around--blood test, blood pressure, visual, am-I-pregnant scan...all of it. But I then got a whole day free, so I started by treating myself to sweetbreads from a panaderia I passed on the way home. The photo's up on Facebook.
_____________________________________
For those who would like the full version of the blog, keep reading. It's free. For those whose attention spans cannot muster strength for it, I am not at all offended. :)
So, after the appointment this morning, I came home at around eight thirty or nine o'clock with the sweetbread, and enjoyed myself thoroughly while eating it. Then I opened my guitar case, and then before I knew it it was one in the afternoon. How nice to have a day to chill after a fastpaced weekend. Don't get me wrong--I loved both sides of the coin. It's just that one offsets the other ideally. So I played guitar, and facebooked. Very relaxing. Then I decided I should eat something, and then I felt lazy. I'd been sedentary basically all day, so I deemed it time to make an excursion to discover the park in Palermo. I had heard much about it, and I had about two hours to spare, so I set off.
There was some sort of accident or fire today on the next street over, it seems. All day I kept hearing sirens, and I walked past, seeing a crowd and several fire engines and police cars. Hope people are okay; I still have no idea what happened.
When I got to the Plaza Alemania, I decided I wanted to keep walking. The marvelous sunlight, Spring breeze, and Spring smell were intoxicating. Eventually I found a big ol' tree stump--the kind perfect for just sitting--and just sat. I listened to my iPod, sent some emails, and relaxed.
Soon I headed home, to get showered and get the apartment tidied up before I hung out with F. I made myself some popcorn, and it tasted delectable.
When F came and rang the bell for my apartment, he said he couldn't recognize my voice, that it sounded like a child's. He's right; I really do have a purely childish voice sometimes. Anyway, the porter wished me well, and we were off. Then the "Best of the day" listed above occurred, and as I played guitar and sang, and listened to him play, and heard his stories and shared mine, I got a sense of how truly God does orchestrate each human relationship for our benefit. He is using F and I as encouragements to one another, as we are both far from family, on our own. Plus, we're both crazy, so that keeps life fun. (:
I'm off to bed soon. Can't forget to close the shutters. Goodnight!
Tonight I hung out with F, one of the congregation at La Mision; one of the youth to whom the Zs minister. We walked around Recoleta, had ice cream, and then played some guitar and shared favorite musicians, bands, songs. His English is impeccable. His smile is stellarly friendly. And he's Colombian, from Bogota, so we had much to talk about!
Worst part of the day: Waiting at the doctor's office for my pre-occupational examination.
This morning, really early, I had to go to ESMINSA to get a checkup that is (in Argentina) mandatory before obtaining a job. They really don't mess around--blood test, blood pressure, visual, am-I-pregnant scan...all of it. But I then got a whole day free, so I started by treating myself to sweetbreads from a panaderia I passed on the way home. The photo's up on Facebook.
_____________________________________
For those who would like the full version of the blog, keep reading. It's free. For those whose attention spans cannot muster strength for it, I am not at all offended. :)
So, after the appointment this morning, I came home at around eight thirty or nine o'clock with the sweetbread, and enjoyed myself thoroughly while eating it. Then I opened my guitar case, and then before I knew it it was one in the afternoon. How nice to have a day to chill after a fastpaced weekend. Don't get me wrong--I loved both sides of the coin. It's just that one offsets the other ideally. So I played guitar, and facebooked. Very relaxing. Then I decided I should eat something, and then I felt lazy. I'd been sedentary basically all day, so I deemed it time to make an excursion to discover the park in Palermo. I had heard much about it, and I had about two hours to spare, so I set off.
There was some sort of accident or fire today on the next street over, it seems. All day I kept hearing sirens, and I walked past, seeing a crowd and several fire engines and police cars. Hope people are okay; I still have no idea what happened.
When I got to the Plaza Alemania, I decided I wanted to keep walking. The marvelous sunlight, Spring breeze, and Spring smell were intoxicating. Eventually I found a big ol' tree stump--the kind perfect for just sitting--and just sat. I listened to my iPod, sent some emails, and relaxed.
Soon I headed home, to get showered and get the apartment tidied up before I hung out with F. I made myself some popcorn, and it tasted delectable.
When F came and rang the bell for my apartment, he said he couldn't recognize my voice, that it sounded like a child's. He's right; I really do have a purely childish voice sometimes. Anyway, the porter wished me well, and we were off. Then the "Best of the day" listed above occurred, and as I played guitar and sang, and listened to him play, and heard his stories and shared mine, I got a sense of how truly God does orchestrate each human relationship for our benefit. He is using F and I as encouragements to one another, as we are both far from family, on our own. Plus, we're both crazy, so that keeps life fun. (:
I'm off to bed soon. Can't forget to close the shutters. Goodnight!
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Whirlwind Weekend: Days 10-12
I know. It's day twelve, and I seem to have skipped days ten and eleven. But I think that that really means I lived days ten and eleven to their saturation point, to the utmost they could be. I believe I did.
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ DAWN OF DAY TEN. / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ /
Friday was an early morning with an agenda. I got up, ate something, and got on the subte. There was some fuss and shouting and police about some man in the subway, and I saw him run away. No idea what happened. I had a train to catch. So I went to the Comisaria I needed to--a government office that had DMV vibes--and got my Argentine criminal record. Spoiler: it's blank. Cool. Then I realized, at about 8:15 that this had taken way less time than I had expected, so I had hours to kill before I went to meet with the people at the office to touch base and keep things rolling. So, I meandered, tried to find a subte charge card place, and then went home. There were still dishes that needed cleaning, and a guitar to be played. Before I knew it it was time for heading to the city center for the meeting at the office. I made it in time, and was soon in conversation with J, who is the main aid I have in the process of coming to work at the company. I got to see the job offer all written out--a salary, 20 hours per week expected, and such. What a sweet deal! I can actually pay off part of this trip! So, that was successful. Plus she helped walk me through the online "get your appointment with immigrations" process. Friday, 30 September. I'm going to rock domes. But, I'm distracting everyone. Ahem.
Next, I raced to meet the translator, for my passport and US criminal record to get translated and legalized. I met F right outside the translators' association, and we quickly realized I'd forgotten to send a scan of the apostille* to translate. OOPS.
*Note: for those who have never, or not yet at least, had to go through the process of preparing to live in a foreign country that has ratified the Hague Agreement, here's what an apostille is. It's a certificate that validates a document that has been notarized in your country of origin. So, my criminal record, or birth certificate, say, is only valid if it has the attached apostille of the state wherein the document was created.
So, he was very agreeable--and as his wife had informed me by email "he is very flexible...we are quite tolerant! We practice meditation a lot, striving to be calm at all times, and cheerful". I love Argentine openness and conversationalism. :) Anyhow, the document was soon finished, between spurts of chatter about Jane Eyre and the Victorian view of self-sacrifice, how the Queen in chess is the true position of Woman, and how the Argentine economy is quite possibly the fault of the rich. We got the documents all legalized, and headed out the door. We were both in need of fuel, and I had to get to an ATM to pay him, so we wound up having lunch at a pizza parlor. What a neat place it is: all gaudy red-and-white everything, including the tile walls, and the pizza is prepared in a kitchen with a large window, and the dextrous pizza cutter/server is a marvel to watch. Then we left the restaurant just in time to watch the parade of picketers, proceeding through the city. F informed me that the picketers in Argentina are quite unique; they never cause damage to and car or whatever in their path, because they understand that they are part of the city system, the same one in which these bus drivers find themselves. Like the Circle of Life, I suppose.
By this point in the day, I was utterly wiped. I had spent my so-far eight waking hours walking hither and thither, and not stopping to eat or drink or pee, and always headed on to the next thing.
I went back to the apartment and crashed. After, that is, spending half an hour social networking, trying to invite/convince a friend of a Mexican friend to come to the church with me. She's here in BA studying cosmetology. Neat!
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
I woke up after a very brief doze, and went to the Z's, for tomorrow was the big concert I was headed to along with Mr. Z. and youth from the church. So, this way I could sleep over and leave at the crack of dawn with them to get in line (it being free). Met the Z children and Mr. Z. at their dance class/soccer practice pickup time, and went home for the evening. One of the church's youth, E, came over, and she, Mrs. Z. and I had dinner and a fascinating, long conversation about dating/marriage relationships and friendships, and the line between them. I enjoyed it very much.
Then, I went to bed. By that point it was post-midnight, and we were going to leave at six. Lovely.
\ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / DAWN OF DAY ELEVEN. \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ /
Yawn. It's still dark. Grab the coffee, grab the clothes. Guess the order should be reversed. Thought process vague at this hour. Get in the car, awakening now. driving with Mr. Z. to pick up E and R (parents of one of the youth) and J (one of the youth, he's closer to my age than most of them).
We were on our way to El Unico Estadio de La Plata: The Only Stadium of/in La Plata. Makes me laugh every time; and the thing is, it's not the only one. That made some people a bit angry, I'll bet.
Anywho, soon we were in the right area, and had to find the rest of the youth who'd gone the night before, and the seven of whom had spent Friday night in a tent for two. A chilly, cramped night of little sleep for all.
They had held a place in line for us all, starting when they woke up that morning, for they were staying for the second night of the Super Clasico as well because they could, and it was free, and they were with their friends. :) And so began an excessively long day of waiting in line. This was about eight o'clock in the morning, and the show was in exactly twelve hours.
Amidst several feuds of who was cutting in line (very Argentine, I am told), conversations about English words for things or meanings of English words, and shared potty-runs, I really felt like I was making great strides to getting to know the youth. They are hilarious, and I thoroughly enjoy them and their group dynamic. There were nine of us there, altogether: two of them were boys, the remainder chicas. I had a "choripan" for lunch, and that is a very flavorful sausage on a bun-like bread. Yum. Somebody passed out cold in the line at one point--I'm beginning to realize how much stronger the sun beams here, especially in a crowded place where walking about and leaving to buy things is discouraged--but he revived and was carried off in an ambulance.
Eventually, we entered the stadium (at about 5 or 6; my phone was beyond dead battery-wise, so I could not tell time), and could SIT. I got to have a long, wonderfully amusing and delightful conversation with J about most everything. Then there were a couple bathroom breaks as well, which in and of themselves took up basically forty-five minutes each run. Lines for women's bathrooms...sigh.
Then, at eight o'clock, the show commenced. It was incredibly thrilling to see the entire--ENTIRE--stadium filled with teens and young adults, filling the ground level and the stadium seating, ready and waiting to worship God and hear the Word together. There were several bands, several short speeches, and Dante Gebel's speech/sermon at the end. Powerful night.
We left the stadium before it ended, so as to get out of there before the throng, so that we would be home before two in the morning. We all had church the next day. In the car, we got warm, drank mate, and dozed. Pretty soon we were back in Bajo Flores, dropping people off, and then Mr. Z. and I got out of the car, into the house, and to sleep.
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / DAWN OF DAY TWELVE. \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \
I awoke to someone sitting on the couch on which I was sleeping. It was the oldest Z kid, I, who came down for his Sunday morning television.
After eating breakfast, getting dressed, and giving the elder Z daughter the desired french braids, I joined the family in the car for the drive to church. The service went very well, and even though the sermon ran long, everyone was in good spirits. I love the time Argentines dedicate to greeting one another, and conversing about how life is going. That's what always comes after the service is over. I love talking with the youth, children, and adults alike, and getting hugs and cheek-kisses from all.
By this point, I was pretty hungry, and A (he's from Paraguay, and in his late twenties) was not helping, talking about this Paraguayan yucca/egg/cheese/cumin dish that I now really want to try. The Zs suggested we go to lunch, and another girl here for a Pepperdine program in BA came along. McDonalds, as per the kids' request.
Then, the Pepperdine student and I rode the subte home together, for she lives in a neighborhood very nearby mine. Upon returning home, I finally had time to charge my phone, do some laundry by hand in the tub (hands are dry tonight!), and eat dinner. Now I sit here on my couch, soon to converse with family.
I'm really loving it here. I'm looking forward to a very productive week, maybe with some tourism on the side. I'll keep you up to date. I hope your week is off to a great start, dear reader! Chau.
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ DAWN OF DAY TEN. / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ /
Friday was an early morning with an agenda. I got up, ate something, and got on the subte. There was some fuss and shouting and police about some man in the subway, and I saw him run away. No idea what happened. I had a train to catch. So I went to the Comisaria I needed to--a government office that had DMV vibes--and got my Argentine criminal record. Spoiler: it's blank. Cool. Then I realized, at about 8:15 that this had taken way less time than I had expected, so I had hours to kill before I went to meet with the people at the office to touch base and keep things rolling. So, I meandered, tried to find a subte charge card place, and then went home. There were still dishes that needed cleaning, and a guitar to be played. Before I knew it it was time for heading to the city center for the meeting at the office. I made it in time, and was soon in conversation with J, who is the main aid I have in the process of coming to work at the company. I got to see the job offer all written out--a salary, 20 hours per week expected, and such. What a sweet deal! I can actually pay off part of this trip! So, that was successful. Plus she helped walk me through the online "get your appointment with immigrations" process. Friday, 30 September. I'm going to rock domes. But, I'm distracting everyone. Ahem.
Next, I raced to meet the translator, for my passport and US criminal record to get translated and legalized. I met F right outside the translators' association, and we quickly realized I'd forgotten to send a scan of the apostille* to translate. OOPS.
*Note: for those who have never, or not yet at least, had to go through the process of preparing to live in a foreign country that has ratified the Hague Agreement, here's what an apostille is. It's a certificate that validates a document that has been notarized in your country of origin. So, my criminal record, or birth certificate, say, is only valid if it has the attached apostille of the state wherein the document was created.
So, he was very agreeable--and as his wife had informed me by email "he is very flexible...we are quite tolerant! We practice meditation a lot, striving to be calm at all times, and cheerful". I love Argentine openness and conversationalism. :) Anyhow, the document was soon finished, between spurts of chatter about Jane Eyre and the Victorian view of self-sacrifice, how the Queen in chess is the true position of Woman, and how the Argentine economy is quite possibly the fault of the rich. We got the documents all legalized, and headed out the door. We were both in need of fuel, and I had to get to an ATM to pay him, so we wound up having lunch at a pizza parlor. What a neat place it is: all gaudy red-and-white everything, including the tile walls, and the pizza is prepared in a kitchen with a large window, and the dextrous pizza cutter/server is a marvel to watch. Then we left the restaurant just in time to watch the parade of picketers, proceeding through the city. F informed me that the picketers in Argentina are quite unique; they never cause damage to and car or whatever in their path, because they understand that they are part of the city system, the same one in which these bus drivers find themselves. Like the Circle of Life, I suppose.
By this point in the day, I was utterly wiped. I had spent my so-far eight waking hours walking hither and thither, and not stopping to eat or drink or pee, and always headed on to the next thing.
I went back to the apartment and crashed. After, that is, spending half an hour social networking, trying to invite/convince a friend of a Mexican friend to come to the church with me. She's here in BA studying cosmetology. Neat!
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
I woke up after a very brief doze, and went to the Z's, for tomorrow was the big concert I was headed to along with Mr. Z. and youth from the church. So, this way I could sleep over and leave at the crack of dawn with them to get in line (it being free). Met the Z children and Mr. Z. at their dance class/soccer practice pickup time, and went home for the evening. One of the church's youth, E, came over, and she, Mrs. Z. and I had dinner and a fascinating, long conversation about dating/marriage relationships and friendships, and the line between them. I enjoyed it very much.
Then, I went to bed. By that point it was post-midnight, and we were going to leave at six. Lovely.
\ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / DAWN OF DAY ELEVEN. \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ /
Yawn. It's still dark. Grab the coffee, grab the clothes. Guess the order should be reversed. Thought process vague at this hour. Get in the car, awakening now. driving with Mr. Z. to pick up E and R (parents of one of the youth) and J (one of the youth, he's closer to my age than most of them).
We were on our way to El Unico Estadio de La Plata: The Only Stadium of/in La Plata. Makes me laugh every time; and the thing is, it's not the only one. That made some people a bit angry, I'll bet.
Anywho, soon we were in the right area, and had to find the rest of the youth who'd gone the night before, and the seven of whom had spent Friday night in a tent for two. A chilly, cramped night of little sleep for all.
They had held a place in line for us all, starting when they woke up that morning, for they were staying for the second night of the Super Clasico as well because they could, and it was free, and they were with their friends. :) And so began an excessively long day of waiting in line. This was about eight o'clock in the morning, and the show was in exactly twelve hours.
Amidst several feuds of who was cutting in line (very Argentine, I am told), conversations about English words for things or meanings of English words, and shared potty-runs, I really felt like I was making great strides to getting to know the youth. They are hilarious, and I thoroughly enjoy them and their group dynamic. There were nine of us there, altogether: two of them were boys, the remainder chicas. I had a "choripan" for lunch, and that is a very flavorful sausage on a bun-like bread. Yum. Somebody passed out cold in the line at one point--I'm beginning to realize how much stronger the sun beams here, especially in a crowded place where walking about and leaving to buy things is discouraged--but he revived and was carried off in an ambulance.
Eventually, we entered the stadium (at about 5 or 6; my phone was beyond dead battery-wise, so I could not tell time), and could SIT. I got to have a long, wonderfully amusing and delightful conversation with J about most everything. Then there were a couple bathroom breaks as well, which in and of themselves took up basically forty-five minutes each run. Lines for women's bathrooms...sigh.
Then, at eight o'clock, the show commenced. It was incredibly thrilling to see the entire--ENTIRE--stadium filled with teens and young adults, filling the ground level and the stadium seating, ready and waiting to worship God and hear the Word together. There were several bands, several short speeches, and Dante Gebel's speech/sermon at the end. Powerful night.
We left the stadium before it ended, so as to get out of there before the throng, so that we would be home before two in the morning. We all had church the next day. In the car, we got warm, drank mate, and dozed. Pretty soon we were back in Bajo Flores, dropping people off, and then Mr. Z. and I got out of the car, into the house, and to sleep.
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / DAWN OF DAY TWELVE. \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \
I awoke to someone sitting on the couch on which I was sleeping. It was the oldest Z kid, I, who came down for his Sunday morning television.
After eating breakfast, getting dressed, and giving the elder Z daughter the desired french braids, I joined the family in the car for the drive to church. The service went very well, and even though the sermon ran long, everyone was in good spirits. I love the time Argentines dedicate to greeting one another, and conversing about how life is going. That's what always comes after the service is over. I love talking with the youth, children, and adults alike, and getting hugs and cheek-kisses from all.
By this point, I was pretty hungry, and A (he's from Paraguay, and in his late twenties) was not helping, talking about this Paraguayan yucca/egg/cheese/cumin dish that I now really want to try. The Zs suggested we go to lunch, and another girl here for a Pepperdine program in BA came along. McDonalds, as per the kids' request.
Then, the Pepperdine student and I rode the subte home together, for she lives in a neighborhood very nearby mine. Upon returning home, I finally had time to charge my phone, do some laundry by hand in the tub (hands are dry tonight!), and eat dinner. Now I sit here on my couch, soon to converse with family.
I'm really loving it here. I'm looking forward to a very productive week, maybe with some tourism on the side. I'll keep you up to date. I hope your week is off to a great start, dear reader! Chau.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
It's the Little Things: Day 9
Little things make the day.
Things like the excellent choice of glasses frames I saw on a young schoolgirl today, and like the cool invisibility of sitting on my balcony in the frigid night air this evening. Things like finding a capo for my guitar at a music store on Florida with a lovely older salesman who knows his stuff about music. Things like taking shelter in a bookstore when rain threatens. Things like having just enough cash to get to your friends' house, where you are safe from cash needs. Things like having just enough cash for all you must do tomorrow after the day's purchases, and like getting every article of clothing--every sock--back from the laundromat to whom you hesitatingly entrusted your dearest sweatshirt and leggings. Things like having time to practice guitar. Things like having a family to talk to, and like having the technology to extend conversations internationally. Things like conversation and email and phone and people who genuinely care. Things like living blessed in Buenos Aires.
Things like the excellent choice of glasses frames I saw on a young schoolgirl today, and like the cool invisibility of sitting on my balcony in the frigid night air this evening. Things like finding a capo for my guitar at a music store on Florida with a lovely older salesman who knows his stuff about music. Things like taking shelter in a bookstore when rain threatens. Things like having just enough cash to get to your friends' house, where you are safe from cash needs. Things like having just enough cash for all you must do tomorrow after the day's purchases, and like getting every article of clothing--every sock--back from the laundromat to whom you hesitatingly entrusted your dearest sweatshirt and leggings. Things like having time to practice guitar. Things like having a family to talk to, and like having the technology to extend conversations internationally. Things like conversation and email and phone and people who genuinely care. Things like living blessed in Buenos Aires.
Observations: Day 8.5
Yesterday, I sent postcards, spent time outside in the sun, and went to the Flores area to help with a music class in one of the villas, and then attend a Bible study at the church again. I spent the night with the Zs. I feel much better.
Now, I would like to post some of my observations of the trip so far, rather than just rattle off the activities that fill each day. Here goes.
Getting on the subte at the Carabobo station, the train is mostly empty at this hour; a few older men, a few young women, maybe some middle-age businessmen, and definitely no school children, for it's school time. If I'm lucky, it is one of the old trains--those that are not yet out of commission, from decades long past. The all-wood interior is softly lit by overhead lamps of an antique sort of style, a refreshing distinction from the fluorescent ocular horror of subte hallways and newer trains. I board the train car, and watch the handhold rings that have supported decades of people rock gently back and forth. As I ride from one end of the A line to the other, I look forward to the unidentifiable smell that accosts my nose at about Castro Barrios, or a little bit sooner. It is a warm, welcoming, woody scent, almost sauna-like but drier. I don't know if anybody else even notices it. I certainly have no idea what's causing it. Maybe it is best to just enjoy it.
Eventually, it is time to get off at Peru, and hop on the D line home. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven stops later on a new train. The uglier ones, sans-character. The main activities of passengers: sleep, listen to iPod, look at one another. What an amusement to watch people watch other people, knowing that you yourself are most likely meanwhile being watched.
Walk the four blocks home, one straight shot on Agüero. Pull out the keys, but not too prematurely--don't want to flash the fact that soon I'll be a bit distracted opening a door, prime time for those inclined to rob me. Successfully and quickly open the door, walk through, make sure it shuts well. Bien cerrada, okay, going up. I take the stairs, for a bit more movement. Besides, it's only two flights. Unlock the front door--two separate locks and keys--and open the door. By now I know to expect no one else there; a transformation that occurred very quickly, thankfully. The space is mine, for better or for worse.
Open the curtains, pull up the shutters, let some natural light in. The same in my bedroom, the other bedroom. Ahhh. Open the balcony doors, sit there. The air is fresh and, today, cool. I should clear the table, it's a mess. I should switch my clothes from the first bedroom to the other--I switched to the one with the better-but-smaller mattress. I should go get cash.
But for the moment, I am content to sit here; just myself and the city sounds, and my guitar within an arm's reach.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Lazy Day: Day 7
The adrenaline on which I seem to have been running thus far finally blew today.
I woke up feeling dreadfully nauseous at 3 am, and couldn't shake it enough to get real sleep until about 8. It was, I would bet, a combination of factors--like new water, new body clock, new germs, same old not-enough-sleep. :)
Anyhow, fortunately, today was a entirely blank day. I was not to miss out on any immigrations progress. I stayed in the apartment for some sleep in the morning, and had some trippy dreams. Then I eventually went on a grocery shopping walk for fresh air, milk, bananas, and crackers. Then, lay upon my blanket on the apartment floor and watched a Bones episode (with this internet, it took twice as long) and ate some food. Soon it was dinner time, and then early bedtime prep.
Terribly unfortunately, it is the last night of winter, and everyone is celebrating the coming of spring tonight. I was invited to have pizza with the porter Walter and his family, but best lie low tonight. How sad.
Tomorrow shall be better, though. I hope to get laundry washed and postcards sent. And to enjoy SPRING!
I woke up feeling dreadfully nauseous at 3 am, and couldn't shake it enough to get real sleep until about 8. It was, I would bet, a combination of factors--like new water, new body clock, new germs, same old not-enough-sleep. :)
Anyhow, fortunately, today was a entirely blank day. I was not to miss out on any immigrations progress. I stayed in the apartment for some sleep in the morning, and had some trippy dreams. Then I eventually went on a grocery shopping walk for fresh air, milk, bananas, and crackers. Then, lay upon my blanket on the apartment floor and watched a Bones episode (with this internet, it took twice as long) and ate some food. Soon it was dinner time, and then early bedtime prep.
Terribly unfortunately, it is the last night of winter, and everyone is celebrating the coming of spring tonight. I was invited to have pizza with the porter Walter and his family, but best lie low tonight. How sad.
Tomorrow shall be better, though. I hope to get laundry washed and postcards sent. And to enjoy SPRING!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)