Searching

One of the adventures of living abroad is trying to figure out where to get something I need. Back in the States, whatever random item might occur to me, I usually have a pretty good idea what store – or what type of store, at least – would sell it. During my time here searches have been launched for envelopes, birthday cards, plain yogurt, meditation cushions, tortilla chips, and plenty of other things I can’t remember right now – and those searches have ended with varying degrees of success. A new search is about to be launched, as the long-handled lighter I use to light the stove (since the automatic “spark” button doesn’t work – I don’t think I’ve seen a single one in this country that does work) is running low on lighter fluid. At the supermarket today I bought matches, to avoid getting stuck without any way to light the stove, but I have no idea where to get lighter fluid. Supermarkets here often aren’t quite as all-encompassing in their stock as grocery stores back home; similarly, drugstores tend to be much more specific in what they carry. I also don’t know if they call lighter fluid by some other wacky name and not the rather literal liquido de encendedor that would be my first guess. My initial idea was to go back to the store where I bought the lighter (an independently owned grocery store near my old apartment – this type of store is called a chino here, because they’re pretty much exclusively run by Asians) and ask them. But first, I’ll take the Ask An Expert (Local) lifeline, when a bunch of Argentines come over for game night tonight.

Tierra Santa

I’ve been meaning to write about this since my friend Cate and I went there a few months ago – I was photography assistant while she took pix of the director for the cover of an amusement-park magazine in the States. I first heard about Tierra Santa soon after I arrived in Buenos Aires in 2007, as a lot of my traveler friends had been to check it out. I believe it’s the only religious theme park in the world, and pretty kitschy to boot (how could it not be?).

I’ll let the pictures on the site (click link above) speak for themselves… I’ll just add that where else in the world could I see The Resurrection three times in one day – and where said resurrection is accompanied by that famous song from Carmina Burana, and it’s canceled if it’s too windy? The concessions workers (and even the janitors) dress in period garb, and there are some cool sections devoted to different religious leaders, including Gandhi. All in all, a crazy unique place (with a director who wears tons of make-up and fishnets and high-heel sandals!).

Here’s my reward for being photography assistant:

El Día del Trabajador

How did I celebrate May Day (Worker’s Day)? I slept in, then headed out into the super-quiet city for lunch and happened upon a neighborhood restaurant serving up big bowls of locro (it’s that time of year again). Not the best I’ve ever had – no chorizo, lots of fat, no beans – and served with a salsa picante that hardly pica (“bites”), but enjoyable nonetheless. Sat in the warm fall sun and soaked up some rays… then it was time to get to work, which will carry me late into the night – no holiday for me!

Today…

I saw:
a guy wearing a shirt that said “F*** Milk – Drink Beer” (in English)
a horsedrawn cart
too many other things to name!

Inmigraciones

Yesterday I went to renew my visa at the immigration office, giving me a first-hand look at how it all unfolds. These processes make me appreciate so much more the struggles that people from other countries go through to be able to come to/stay/live in the U.S., and the relative ease of my experience with it here thus far is not something I take for granted. The 2 1/2 hours I spent waiting for various pieces to fall into place made for great people-watching (something I would have missed out on if I’d remembered to bring a book with me!). It is quite humbling to be one of just a handful of European-looking folks in a massive crowd of people filing various papers, paying fees, and trying to handle a foreign bureaucracy. For many of them, though, at least they have the added benefit of speaking the language – I don’t have any hard facts but suspect that the majority of immigrants are coming from Paraguay and Bolivia, and others from further afield in Latin America. I also saw some Brazilians, but the next biggest group after Spanish-speakers seemed to be Asians. The only real problem I encountered personally was discovering that the last stamp in my passport was placed on top of a strip of clear tape (apparently used when I had pages added to my passport), and some of the ink was rubbing off – making it hard to tell how long a stay I was granted and what date I entered. I had to go to another area where they verify and repair stamps, to get a printout and have someone notarize my entry stamp, basically, before I could get the renewal. No big deal, it just added about 30 minutes to the process. And, unfortunately, just a week ago the price to renew TRIPLED, so this was no longer a cheap endeavor (well, it’s all relative – still less than US$100). It would have been cheaper to go to Uruguay, if only I’d thought I had the time to do that this week.

Hot Spot

Today I went with two friends to a fancy Scandinavian restaurant that is supposed to serve a good brunch (a real rarity in this city). It did turn out to be quite tasty, with bagel-shaped bread even (they were good, but I’m not quite sure I can call them real bagels!), and yummy cocktails – I had a dill martini, particularly special in a city that doesn’t seem too big on martinis, and where it’s difficult to find fresh dill as well. On top of all that, I spotted Argentine-American musician Kevin Johansen there while we were waiting. I’ve seen him play a number of times and was sure it was him right away, even before I noticed the Argentines murmuring about him. He’s shorter and not as cute up close (isn’t that always the way?) and my friend noted how poorly behaved his daughter was, running around the tables and such – in general Argentines don’t seem to keep as tight a leash on their kids in restaurants and the like.

Civilized

For a lot of reasons that aren’t worth getting into at the moment, most people here (including me) pay their bills by going to an outlet that’s equipped for bill-paying (could be a pharmacy, grocery store, post office, random kiosco) and paying them in cash. After finally getting hold of the phone company to explain an extra charge on my bill, I ran out to pay that and my gas bill this morning, thinking I’d get a jump on things by arriving just when the post office was opening at 10, but I wasn’t the only one with that idea! I was 11th in line outside the front door, but managed to get through the line and back home in half an hour (though while I was waiting in line I realized I had left one other unpaid bill at home; luckily it’s not due for a few weeks). On the way back, I passed my neighborhood police officer, who usually hangs out in front of the grocery store on my block, walking down the street towards his post (and not really from a direction where there’s a café nearby) carrying a little ceramic cup of coffee.

Observations

I know a few people who upload a photo to their site every day (or try to), and it’s a cool glimpse of their world/lives. But I almost never carry my camera around, and it always seems like a hassle to hook it up to download pictures – I am definitely not interested in doing that daily! But, there’s no reason I can’t do the same thing in words, and try to give you all a little slice of life down here. I can’t promise to do it every day, but I’ll do my best!

This idea came to me this morning when I was walking around the big park by my house. It’s the best place in these parts to exercise outside and there are lots of people out and about, making for some great people-watching. This morning I saw lots of interesting characters, including a woman in her sixties wearing a T-shirt that said, “Yo! Juicy Girl.” When I was there the other day (I’m trying to exercise more often!) I saw a woman with a shirt that said, “You don’t even have a chance.” It’s pretty funny to see people in other countries wearing shirts with English sayings, especially because they often don’t know what they say (I can’t imagine wearing something without knowing what it says!). One day at salsa class my friend told a guy that she liked his shirt, and he asked her what it said. The answer? “This is my party shirt.”

Life Is Good

I have just over two weeks left until the end of the 1,001 days designated for doing these 101 things. When I saw the date approaching on my calendar I started thinking back over the list, and then read over the list today, and was kind of bummed at some of the things that remain unfinished. But I know that’s kind of silly, considering that many of the things haven’t been a possibility because I’ve been busy doing other awesome things, and because my life has changed way more than I anticipated back when the 1,001 days began January 5, 2006. If things like Move to another country, Meet lots of interesting people, and Experience something new every day had been on the list, they would have been checked off with ease.

I’ve been really busy – working most days, squeezing in some exercise and maybe a little knitting, and going out many nights a week – and when I have a rare quiet night at home I relish every minute. Quality-of-life and productivity gurus often say that if you’re “too busy” you need to assess your commitments and make sure you’re not saying yes to things you don’t want to do. But it’s pretty unusual that I find myself doing something I don’t want to do – it’s just that there are so many amazing opportunities and activities going on that I don’t want to pass up! These are just some of the things I’ve done so far this month: numerous nights playing games at various friend’s houses, a friend’s birthday dinner and salsa dancing, cooking dinner with friends several times, tango music concert and another show, weekly massages, dinners out with roommates and friends, several goodbye parties, a waterdance workshop with people from Couchsurfing, salsa dance class, Couchsurfing movie afternoon, and Peruvian cuisine cooking classes… and coming up in the next week a night at the theater, a voice yoga class, and being a model for a photographer friend’s photo shoot. Even though none of these things is on The List, how can I go wrong?

Boca Wins!

The smoke has cleared, my allergies are lifting, and I’m high from the crazy energy of a live fútbol game at La Bombonera, where the Boca Juniors just beat Maracaibo from Venezuela. Tonight’s game was kind of a big deal as part of the Copa Libertadores. Their win, and another game tonight in Chile that ended in a tie, means they’re on to the quarterfinals, and everyone was thrilled. Of course they won the Copa last year, so it was probably a given they would win tonight.

I don’t think I’ve ever been to a professional soccer game in any country, but going to a Boca game in Buenos Aires is a pretty big deal. They are known to have some of the craziest, most loyal fans, and a good team to boot. I can hardly describe the energy—and the noise!—in the stadium. The most hyper fans were sitting behind the goal closest to us, and I don’t think they stopped singing/shouting and jumping up and down and pumping their arms at all the whole time we were there. There were drums, and firecrackers—the smoke was so thick at one point it was hard to see the ball on the field—and banners practically half the size of the field, unfurled over the top of the stands, one proclaiming “You can imitate us but you can never equal us.” The screeching whistle sound they use against the other team made it sound like we were in a cave full of bats, the sound echoing off the stadium walls. The fans in the “good” section where we were, high up in the vertigo-inducing stands, were a little more serious and actually quieted down to concentrate on the game now and then. But any little action on the field and they were shouting and (if there was a goal scored) hugging each other, or shouting and (if the team or the ref did something they didn’t like) throwing their hands in the air, and often jumping in on the songs coming from both ends of the stadium. I didn’t understand all the shouts, but I did catch enough to know I’ve probably never heard so much cursing in my life—the guy behind us was so emphatic we felt his spit raining down on us. And one of the songs said something like “I’ve been with Boca since the cradle,” which gives you just a hint of how fervent these fans are. It’s impossible not to get caught up in the excitement, and I was pumping my arms, clapping my hands, and pounding the seat when they screwed up, just like everyone else. At the end as everyone was celebrating and slowly filing out (or staying and partying), I felt the concrete stands gently swaying beneath me.

Despite some of the rumors I’ve heard about the games, and being in the serious minority as a woman (I’d guess no more than 1 percent of the crowd was female), I felt really comfortable where we were—though I was awful glad we weren’t in the hooligan-filled mosh pits that were the cheap seats. We went with a tour, which felt pretty cheesy, and didn’t get us as much “tour” as we expected in terms of insider info, etc., but it was handy to not have to wait in line to get tickets, and to have a van waiting for us afterwards instead of trying to find a cab or bus in all the craziness. I’m so glad I finally got to be part of this very Argentine experience!